#but the total number of chapters is definitely gonna keep rising

[courtney-deserved-better]

just finished the latest chapter of the longfic and it's now broken 30k words! we're currently at 10/14 chapters

[blazingparker]

What’s Up, Danger? (Chapter 3)

Here it is! the final chapter of What’s Up, Danger? As I’ve said before, I was totally blown away by the response to this fic. Thank you to all of you who commented, left kudos, reblogged, and everything else!!

read it on ao3!

---

“JARVIS, what time is it?” Tony called out as he fiddled with repairing one of the gauntlets on one of his older suits. It had gotten damaged during the battle of Sokovia, and he’d just built a new one rather than ever repairing it. Now, with his refusal to go after Spider-Man and the lack of other missions, he’d had plenty of time to catch up on lab projects and even fix up his old suit.

“It is currently 2:37 in the morning on Friday, January 25th, sir. Might I suggest you retire and get some rest?” Tony frowned, setting down his tools. Peter still hadn’t called him, and he never stayed out patrolling this late when he had a class the next day.

Peter. The last few weeks with Peter had been some of the best of Tony’s life, hands down. While they still hadn’t defined their relationship, they were more than friends and there were definitely too many feelings involved for them to just be fuck buddies.

For once, Tony didn’t dread the early hours of the morning when JARVIS would hound him to head to bed. He’d talk on the phone with Peter, listen to how his day went and maybe tell him about his latest project before they would hang up with whispered words of affection and head to bed. On particularly good nights, he’d meet Peter in his apartment with takeout (Tony wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking he could cook, come on) and they’d cuddle up on the couch with a movie. Sometimes, he’d need to stitch Peter up or help him out of his suit to tend to his injuries, which he was always more than happy to do. Things were perfect. They were perfect.

In fact, the only reason why Tony hadn’t asked Peter to be his boyfriend yet was because he knew the young man had enough on his plate without adding the media frenzy that came with dating a billionaire. Not to mention the Avengers would find out, and that would make it even harder for Peter to keep his identity a secret.

Tony wasn’t really known for being a patient man, but for Peter? For Peter, he’d wait.

Well, not tonight. Tonight, he was done waiting. It was close to three in the morning and Peter still hadn’t called, which was highly unusual.

“JARVIS, pull up the local news.” Tony turned and leaned back against the lab table and brought his mug of coffee to his lips. Maybe Peter had gotten held up with a bigger issue, like another burning building or a larger threat that required more time to take care of. If that was the case, the local news would definitely be covering it.

What they were actually covering made him drop his coffee mug, the ceramic dish shattering when it made impact with the floor.

A blonde newscaster was speaking, but Tony tuned her out in favor of reading the tagline and watching the footage.

Spider-Man Abducted by the Avengers. There was a shaky video, likely recorded by an unassuming passerby, of Peter standing on a roof with his chest heaving. Then, out of nowhere and seemingly for no reason, he tensed. A second later, a dart could be seen sticking out of his neck. Tony’s chest filled with dread as he watched Peter pluck it out and stare at it, swaying in place. When Peter collapsed, Tony actually made a move as if he could catch the young man, and felt fury bubble up when he saw what happened next.

Steve fucking Rogers caught Peter, quickly restraining him with a pair of vibranium cuffs before slinging him over his shoulder and carrying him off.

“--people of Queens are furious. There are talks of a march on Avengers tower. They have protected us from larger threats, yes. But Spider-Man was the one looking out for the people of Queens and New York at large every day. Where were the Avengers when Lacy Collins was almost assaulted last week, when Spider-Man rescued her? Where were the Avengers--”

Tony wasn’t listening anymore. The newscaster was right, of course, Peter was better than all of them. Peter deserved nothing but the Avengers’ respect and instead he’d gotten a dart to the neck and vibranium cuffs. He stormed out of the lab, grabbing his cell phone.

“JARVIS, dial Patriotic Fucker,” he all but growled as he got into the elevator. “And take me to the suit lab on level forty. The one with the landing platform.” There was no way they’d bring Peter back to the tower, which meant Tony needed a suit. Now.

“Tony, we caught him!” Steve cried out after picking up on the first ring.

“How fucking dare you,” Tony said lowly. “The mission was to learn his identity, Rogers. Not drug him and arrest him!” By the end, he was yelling into the phone. “Where the fuck did you take him?”

“Tony-I thought this was the best course of action. He was avoiding us even more.”

“Because Clint took a fucking shot at him! If an Avenger tried to take you out, would you really be peachy-keen and excited to chat?!” Tony screamed. “You star-spangled shit, you’ve compromised everything! As if he’s ever going to work with us now, after this little stunt! Not to mention they’re talking about protests against us on the news!” Taking a deep breath, he exited the elevator and made a beeline for the nanotech suit he’d just finished up. Grabbing the little housing unit, he placed it against his chest and double-tapped it, allowing the suit to encase his body.

“Clint and I are with him at the compound. We’re upstate.” Steve’s reply came after a beat of silence, and he actually sounded remorseful. Fucking finally, Tony had a location. He blasted out of the lab and away from the tower, JARVIS automatically plugging in directions for the fastest route to the compound.

“Did Natasha know about this? What about Banner, or Thor?” Tony barked out, determined to get as much information as possible before he got there. He wanted to be able to put his full focus on Peter, not these idiots.

“No. Clint and I made the call. They’re not to blame for this, Tony.”

“Oh, and that makes things better? You kidnapped my-” Tony hesitated. Peter wasn’t technically his anything. “My Spider-Man,” he finished lamely.

“Yeah, we’re gonna have a chat about that, Tony. About the Stark Tech he’s wearing, and how your number is saved in his phone under the name ‘Snarky Bitch’. You’ve known. You knew this kid and didn’t tell the team.” Tony found his blood running cold for the second time that night.

You knew this kid.

“Steve Rogers, did you take off his mask?” He yelled, and the silence on the other end was enough of an answer. Feeling fury take over, Tony let go of any semblance of restraint he still had. That was the final straw. Peter had taken his secret identity incredibly seriously, and he deserved to reveal it to whomever he chose. Not have that choice taken from him.

“Yes, I know him. I know his name, and I’ve been helping him out,” Tony seethed. “Unlike you, you frozen fuck, I got him to trust me. He trusted me, and I helped him in return. He deserved that much. He’s sweet and kind and everything the world seems to think you are. But they were wrong. The great Captain America that the world knows would never drug and kidnap a college kid just because they didn’t do what he wanted.”

“Tony.” The voice on the other end cracked, and Tony smirked. Steve knew he was right.

“I expect you to be gone by the time I get there, which will be in about twenty minutes. You’d better stay away from him until I say otherwise, or I swear on my mother’s grave that your face will be meeting my gauntlet. Capische?”

“Understood. And-for what it’s worth, Tony, I’m sorry. I really thought this was the right call.” Tony huffed out a sigh.

“For future reference, if the plan involves drugs and kidnapping, it’s not the right call.” With that, he hung up on Steve and focused on getting to the compound as fast as he could. After a painstakingly long flight he arrived, storming through the doors and down to the detention level where he knew Peter would be. Tony exited the suit and put it on sentry mode, striding purposefully down the hall of cells, looking, searching--

Tony came to a dead stop in front of the last cell on the right and felt his heart fall right out of his body. It was Peter: restrained to a chair, in his suit but without his mask. His head lolled to the side and if Tony couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest, he might have thought the young man was dead. Each of his legs was tied down to the chair and his hands were behind his back, likely in the vibranium cuffs still.

“JARVIS, unlock,” Tony whispered weakly, and rushed in as soon as the glass door slid open. Gently brushing Peter’s curls out of his face, he dropped to his knees in front of the man. “I’m so sorry, Peter. So, so sorry,” he whispered before making his way around to the cuffs so he could get Peter’s hands free.

---

Peter woke slowly, blinking against harsh light and instinctively letting out a groan of pain when his headache made itself known. Instinctively, he tried to rub his temple and couldn’t keep from whining softly when his hands were held down.

“Sit still, Pete. Please. I’m trying, okay? I promise, I’m trying.” Tony’s voice? That didn’t make any sense, Peter had been on patrol.

Patrol.

It all came flooding back to him - the dart, his dizziness, and the vague feeling of being restrained and carried off. After that, nothing. Now, he was awake and clearly restrained and Tony was there.

Tony had sold him out? Peter didn’t want to believe it, but it was the only thing that made sense. Tony was doing something with his cuffs and he was tied down tightly, unable to move. Tony knew his routines and when he liked to head home, and could have told the Avengers when it would be best to strike. When he’d be the most exhausted.

You idiot, he thought to himself. Peter dropped his head to his chest and tried desperately to fight back tears, not wanting Tony to know he was awake. As Spider-Man, he’d been shot, stabbed, punched and kicked. But this? This hurt the worst of anything he’d ever experienced.

All of a sudden, there was a loud bang and the pressure on his hands was gone. Peter pitched forward with a squeak of surprise, not expecting to be freed. Strong hands caught him and gently eased him back into the chair.

“Peter? You back with me?” Tony was in front of him now, face etched with concern as he brushed Peter’s hair out of his eyes and moved his hands down to his wrists. The older man gently massaged them, trying to ease any soreness as Peter slowly looked up at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, shocked at how raspy his voice sounded. Tony just stared at him, confused.

“Because Steve and Clint are idiots, and this never should have happened. Bambi, I’m so sorry I didn’t check in sooner, I thought you were patrolling.” Tony started to ramble, and Peter’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You didn’t...do this?” He asked, and winced at the horror that instantly took over Tony’s face.

“I’d never. I’d never, ever do something like this to you. You’re my Danger, my sweet-hearted vigilante who puts everyone ahead of himself and who I adore. I’m so sorry. If I’d known-” Tony was cut off by the swift press of Peter’s lips against his. Peter didn’t know why he’d doubted Tony for a second. Of course he would never sell him out - why would he help him and why would they be...whatever they were...if Tony’s whole endgame was to unmask him? He would have bailed after Peter pulled the mask off that one night all those weeks ago if that had been the case.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, hiccuping as he tried to keep the tears at bay. “I just-I woke up and felt you doing something with my hands and I thought-I thought-”

“You thought I was putting you in the cuffs instead of taking you out of them,” Tony murmured in understanding. Peter just nodded as the other man focused on releasing his legs.

“I’m sorry-” he tried to repeat but was stopped by a finger against his lips. As soon as the finger was removed, it was replaced with a set of soft lips.

“No apologies, Bambi,” Tony whispered, and Peter just nodded again. He still felt exhausted and sluggish, likely because of the drugs making their way through his system. Luckily, Tony seemed to read his mind. “How about we head up to my private rooms, get something to eat, and watch a movie? Hm? Just like we always do.”

“That sounds nice,” Peter murmured back, pecking Tony’s lips one more time. He then grasped the man’s hand, slowly standing up and yelping in shock when his knees immediately gave out and he went crashing towards the floor.

That never happened, though. He was caught in a pair of strong arms and lifted up in a princess carry as Tony prevented the cold concrete from greeting his face. Peter’s arms instinctively wrapped around Tony’s neck.

“I’m sure I can walk if I could just try again,” Peter tried to protest, and Tony leaned their foreheads together.

“Let me do it. You’ve probably still got some stuff in your system, and I’ve been worried sick ever since I saw the news. Just let me take care of you. Let me take care of my-” Tony cut himself off, hesitating.

“Boyfriend,” Peter blurted out before staring at Tony with wide eyes. You don’t know that he wants that, Parker. His friends literally just drugged and kidnapped you, he’s probably just feeling protective--

“Boyfriend,” Tony repeated. A huge, real smile was plastered on his face as he held Peter even closer. “Let me take care of my boyfriend.” Blushing, Peter responded by simply pressing his face into Tony’s neck as though it would allow him to hide. After a split second, he pressed a soft kiss to the skin there. Tony nuzzled his face into Peter’s hair for a moment before turning and walking out of the cell.

“You know, I never got to hear about your night. Before all this, I mean,” Tony remarked as he carried Peter towards the elevator.

“I guess not,” Peter mused, pulling back just enough to look up at his boyfriend. Boyfriend, he could say that now.

“So...what’s up, Danger?”

“Oh my god.”

[changyang-cloud]

Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Niè Huáisāng Characters: Nie Huaisang, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin Additional Tags: I don't even know what to tag this, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, i guess, Accidental Baby Acquisition, later on, they're just gonna be there for each other now Series: Part 2 of Write Our Names On Dragon Wings and Lift Our Hearts Summary:

Surrounded by the bright smiling faces of his family-- his brother, and husband, husband's brother and sister and their husbands, their children, nieces, and nephews...-- Nie Huaisang finally felt relieved. More than that, he felt happy.

Nie Huaisang had overheard what those other sect leaders were saying. That the sect of Yunmeng Jiang was almost negligible at this point, much less “great.” Why would they waste their resources supporting a lost cause?

Nie Huaisang remembered when he first heard the news of the massacre at Lotus Pier, worrying after Wei-xiong and Jiang-xiong, and even Yanli-jie. They had all been kind to him, had been friends to him. They didn’t deserve this kind of fate, leaving everyone unsure as to whether their sect had any survivors left.

He also remembered how relieving it felt to know that Jiang Yanli had been away at the time, safe in Meishan, and that Jiang Cheng had made it out alive.

That he was here in Qinghe, no less. He remembered running out of his private room faster than he’d ever run in his life, barely taking time to compose himself before walking into the receiving hall where his brother was talking with Jiang Cheng.

He was well. Largely uninjured, and not very eager to tell about how he escaped and where he had been these past few weeks. But he was well, and that was enough.

“Whe--where is Wei-xiong?” Nie Huaisang asked, noticing his striking absence easily in the tense quiet of the room.

“He--” Jiang Cheng tried, but his face was dark, and the words didn’t come.

It was months, and still, Jiang Cheng heard no news of his shixiong. And even those months were not spent comfortably. Nie Huaisang watched as sect disciples left on missions, coming back with only a thread of life left. He wasn’t particularly good with handling blood, but he helped the best he could delivering clean rags and keeping everyone organized.

Maybe if he had trained like Da-ge told him to, he wouldn’t be so useless, but that was a past mistake, and couldn’t be helped. Besides, he wasn’t just an extra pair of hands. When Qinghe was a chaotic mess of servants and disciples running about, he kept everyone on the same page, got everything where it needed to go. When he accompanied his brother to the war camps--despite his insistance on sending him to stay home, safe--he helped organize rations, double and triple checked that everyone was fed and well before going to bed hours after everyone else.

He wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t useless, he could prove it!

And if he could prove he wasn’t just the useless second son of Qinghe Nie, then Jiang Cheng should have no problem proving himself a capable soldier and sect leader--because he was both those things, far more than Nie Huaisang could ever hope to be.

Those old sect leaders didn’t know what they were talking about, anyway. They didn’t bother to look at was right in front of them, so why listen? The truth was, Jiang Cheng had inspired hope in many, and dozens from rogue cultivators to children were eager to join his ranks--and follow him to the death, if need be. The numbers didn’t lie. After this war was over, if they were able to make it through, the Jiang Sect would rebuild itself to its former glory, there was no doubt.

Though, in Nie Huaisang’s opinion, they would likely even exceed that reputation.

Nie Huaisang racked his brain, pulling up old memories of Jiang Cheng, trying to think of something to comfort him. He also particularly avoided hoping to “cheer him up,” because there was really no hope in that. It was completely understandable for the situation. But if he could ease the pain, that would be enough.

In passing, Nie Huaisang thought it would have been easier to comfort Wei Wuxian. Then again, he questioned whether Wei-xiong genuinely enjoyed so many things, or if that was just his bright personality.

Either way, he finally landed on the one thing that he thought Jiang Cheng really loved more than anything. His sister. More doably, his sister’s soup, since his sister was sent safely off to Lanling and Nie Huaisang did not have the means to bring her here just to cheerp Jiang Cheng up for a moment.

So, soup. Nie Huaisang couldn’t cook by anyone’s standards, of course. Not that he’d tried very hard, as he rarely felt the need or desire to try hard at anything, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t , right? Resolved, Nie Huaisang made his way to the Bujing Shi ‘s kitchens.

“Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang, a few steps away from slipping into the kitched where no one could catch him skipping class, whipped around to face the voice. “A-Fen-jiejie?”

Nie Yanfen walked lightly, a familiar teasing smile decorating her face. “Why aren’t you in practice?”

Nie Huaisang grimaced. “I have more important things to do, actually.” Nie Yanfen raised an eyebrow skeptically, and Nie Huaisang threw up his hand in defeat. “Okay, maybe more important is an exaggeration. A-Fen-jie, I really have a good reason this time!”

“Huaisang, since when have I told on you for skipping classes,” Nie Yanfen countered with a laugh. It was true. Nie Yanfen was nearly Nie Huaisang’s brother’s age, and her cultivation was nothing to scoff at, but their temperaments couldn’t have been more different. Nie Yanfen wasn’t just occasionally indulgent in Nie Huaisang’s mischief, but sometimes even an active participant. “What’s your ‘good reason’?”

Nie Huaisang pouted at her tone, but answered, “I want to make something nice for Jiang-xiong, before they leave for Hejian.”

With a fond smile, Nie Yanfen put a hand on Nie Huaisang’s shoulder, “What kind of ‘something nice?’”

“...soup.”

Nie Yanfen gave him a knowing look, and walked with him back into the kithcens. “I’m afraid we don’t have any lotus root on hand…”

“That’s alright,” Nie Huaisang replied. “It’s not like I could compete with Yanli-jie, anyway. Might as well try something different.”

And Nie Huaisang may not have known how to cook, but Nie Yanfen did. It took nearly the entire afternoon and one failed pot before Nie Huaisang managed something good--under Nie Yanfen’s careful instruction, of course.

The satisfaction alone from the fragrant secnt wafting up from the bowl in his hands was almost enough. All that was left was to give it to Jiang Cheng.

“Jiang-xiong?”

Jiang Cheng’s grouchy face greeted him as the door opened, a crease between his brows that seemed rather permanent as of late. The smell rising from Nie Huaisang’s hands didn’t go unnoticed by him either, though, and he gave Nie Huaisang a questioning look. “What is this?”

Nie Huaisang put on his most carefree smile, gently pushing past his friend to set the tray on the table. He stood and turned around with a little flourish, saying lightly, “Soup?”

For all he was grouchy, Jiang Cheng was a total sap.  Not that he was going to let anyone know it, but Nie Huaisang had been close enough to the two brothers from Lotus Pier that he knew to look for it. The smile when he tasted the soup wasn’t disguised, but the tears were.

It felt as if their troops had no sooner left for Hejian that they had returned, with Jiang Cheng’s arm slung over Nie Mingjue’s shoulders and his other hand pressed against his chest. The soldiers behind them looked exhausted. At least, the ones that were still fully-conscious.

Da-ge wasn’t injured, fortunately. And the cultivators that had come back only accounted for a fraction of the ones they had left with, who were still at the Hejian front with Nie Zonghui as commander.

Nie Mingjue was hurrying to get to Gusu, and insisted Nie Huaisang come with him. If Nie Huaisang wa in Gusu, he reasoned, he wouldn’t be in danger.

But Nie Huaisang didn’t think of any of that. He only thought of how Wei-xiong was still missing, but Jiang-xiong was  here  and alone. And if Jiang-xiong was here, then he could help him.

Nie Mingjue stormed off to Cloud Recesses without him. Jiang Cheng woke up that night.

“Jiang-xiong?”

“Huaisang,” he said, voice coming out weaker than he seemed to have intended.

Nie Huaisang hurried to his side, forcing a smile. “No, no. Don’t sit up. You need to rest. I’m afraid Da-ge will drag you back out to the field on account of lacking manpower too soon anyway, so you should rest while you can…”

He hurried around, not stepping more than a few feet away from Jiang Cheng’s side, but going down a seemingly endless checklist of questions and tasks. Getting him to eat some soup from the kitchens that he reheated, asking if any of his injured were bothering him…

“Huaisang,” his voice came roughly, while Nie Huaisang’s mind was still racing.

“Y-Yes?” He was confused. They didn’t usually call each other by name like that. Sure, they were friends. But it wasn’t like Jiang Cheng to just change his address so flippantly. That was more of a Wei Wuxian thing, and Jiang Cheng was most definitely  not  his brother. Nie Huaisang had thought before was just a one-time thing. A slip-up.

But he had done it again. And it felt so intimate…

“Thank you.”

But this was war. There was no time to think about these things, now was there.

Wei-xiong was back. And for once since the war started, Jiang Cheng’s smile fully reached his eyes. He looked like an idiot like that, and it made Nie Huaisang grin. He bombarded Wei Wuxian with questions the second he caught sight of him, and he merely laughed as he answered each one vaguely. But Nie Huaisang couldn’t really be bothered to analyze his words. He just knew that this finally felt almost like old times, as he brought them something to drink and they caught up.

And that Jiang Cheng looked happy, and Nie Huaisang wished it hadn’t taken so long for him to see that expression again.

Of course, in war, these types of moments never lasted long. Wei Wuxian was back, and apparently more powerful than ever, so Da-ge didn’t hesitate to sweep the Yunmeng siblings out to the field again. And they got good knews almost every time upon their return.

Almost every time, being the key word.

“A-Cheng…” Nie Huaisang whimpered. He silently berated himself for breaking down so easily.  This is a war, Huaisang. You can’t be the same delicate kid you’re used to being.

Jiang Cheng looked at him with hurt-filled eyes. No doubt, the pain in his heart was a thousand-times greater than Nie Huaisang’s. But that was what hurt. Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but laugh and commend Jiang Cheng’s will. Even under all that pain and all that pressure, he still had the courage to keep fighting. Seeing him like this, though, tattered and broken, both inside and out, with Wei Wuxian off tooting away on his Chenqing elsewhere, and Jiang Yanli safe in Lanling. He looked alone, and cold--hurt and scared. But he still put on a brave face. Nie Huaisang really couldn’t believe him, how he could do it.

And the sight broke his heart.

The wounds on his chest were superficial, easily treatable. The wounds in his heart, less-so. On some level, Nie Huaisang imagined that seeing your loved-ones die might be easier than this, seeing the person you care about beaten down by the world and fighting to hold on. Wasn’t this kind of life a fate worse than death?

But this was war, and the threat of death loomed closer each day. Even that thought couldn’t bring relief, only fear.

There were tears in Nie Huaisang’s eyes, but he blinked them away. Crying wouldn’t do him any good, all he could do was figure out the next steps. Figure out how to keep the people he loved safe, and the people they loved. More than Nie Huaisang couldn’t bear to see Jiang Cheng die--his body reduced to a cold and lifeless corpse, forever alone and unsmiling--he really couldn’t stand to see him lose anything more.

Gone was the friend who hid his amusement with harsh words; who smiled behind everyone’s backs, a smile that could burn the whole world down and leave you with nothing but brilliant light and contentment. He was replaced by this man, quick to anger and hard to please; who cried behind closed doors into the night, sniffling with a sorrow enough to sink a thousand ships and flood a thousand lands. And Nie Huaisang loved him, still.

That was why, in the end. Why he had to do his best to get them through this war. He wasn’t useless, he couldn’t be. Useless means letting go and throwing your fate to chance. Only by finding control in life could Nie Huaisang help the people who he cared for. He wouldn’t hesitate to do so, for Jiang Cheng; for Nie Mingjue.

Nie Huaisang squeezed his hand one last time before daring to peel his eyes away. Though, he had barely stood when a breaking voice called, “Huaisang…”

Nie Huaisang bit back a laugh amidst his stifled cries. “What is it, Jiang-xiong? Can I get you something?”

Jiang Cheng shook his head weakly, his eyes still fluttering between open and closed in the dark room. “Huaisang, don’t leave.”

Nie Huaisang hesitated for a moment, but sat back down anyway, tracing the back of Jiang Cheng’s hand with his thumb as if that might bring him some comfort.

Maybe it did, Nie Huaisang couldn’t know.

After a few minutes, Nie Huaisang whispered, “Jiang-xiong, I need to sleep too, you know. I’m going to go for now.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t say anything, his eyes already lightly closed and his face relaxed and dreaming. Nie Huaisang didn’t leave without one last whispered goodnight, and the silent promise to keep trying. Not until they made it out this pitch-black, blood-drenched tunnel would he give up and surrender, he swore it on his life.

A-Cheng, be careful.

The war was over. This statement alone should have been a cause for celebration, but as always, there was more to life than that.

Nie Huaisang didn’t celebrate that night, nor the next.

He flew from Qinghe to Qishan he second he heard the news, but his cultivation was poor, and it took longer than it should have. The news. That the siege on Nightless City was a success, and Meng Yao had delivered the final blow to Wen Ruohan.

That his brother, who had been captured, was seriously injured, and two of the five generals that had been captured alongside him, dead.

The war was over, but it wasn’t yet time for celebrations.

“Xichen-ge,” Nie Huaisang gasped, still unable to catch his breath after running all the way here. “Da-ge.” His eyes floated over a third figure. Someone he hadn’t expected to see, but nonetheless recognized. “Meng-xiong?”

Lan Xichen was standing between the two others, his eyes not leaving Nie Mingjue and his expression insistent. Nie Mingjue grumbled, giving up whatever argument they were having and turning his attention to Nie Huaisang.

But Nie Huaisang was still quite bewildered, and upon realizing that his brother was at least well enough to be standing, and even arguing, he was only staring at Meng Yao, an expression on his face that he himself wouldn’t have been able to decipher.

“Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue called sharply, but Nie Huaisang didn’t move, words still trying to form on his lips.

They never did, before a hand gently grabbed his wrist and brought him back to the real world. The touch was gone as quickly as it had come, but now Jiang Cheng stood in front of him, arms folding in salute to Nie Mingjue. “Nie-zongzhu.”

Finally capable of normal thought, Nie Huaisang hurried over to his brother, “Da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue responded with some mumbled harshly, in a way Nie Huaisang knew to signify fondness.

After making sure his brother was really okay and giving Lan Xichen a pointed look which said, don’t let my idiot da-ge walk on his injuries for too long, Nie Huaisang let out a sigh of relief as the three heads disappeared from sight.

“Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang turned his head, remembering the tug on his wrist and the fifth figure in the room. He smiled. “Jiang-xiong.”

The war was over. And maybe it was just about time for a goddamn celebration.

[bubblyani]

Bail Out : 09

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 09: Loyalty 

Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault.  However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne,  surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your  choices in life, career, and in love.

Word Count: 7300+

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Violence

Author’s Note: Heeyyyy!! Sorry for the 3 week absence. Needed to get some personal stuff on track and finally writing once again. Perhaps I am also sad to end this series also. But, I am determined to end this perfectly. One more chapter to go so it’s not the end yet. Enjoy lovelies!

CHAPTER LIST

(10 am)

Concern came over John Blake, thus translating into physical pain when his fingernails dug into his palms. All the while the young woman sitting before held his attention for a few seconds that seemed like pure torture.

Her graceful, manicured fingers danced across the computer keyboard, pressing in a rhythmic manner as she searched for specific piece of information. Looking up finally, she displayed a choreographed smile: “I’m sorry, but there’s no record of an appointment with…Officer Blake” She said. Bowing his head down, John chuckled with disbelief: “No...” He replied, shaking his hand before putting it on her table, “There has to be a mistake...” His voice rife with seriousness, “You see, I called you…you’re Simone right?” “Yes?” “Yeah, I called you yesterday and I was told…10 am” John stressed on it, eventually growing irritated. Finally, with approval granted by Commissioner Gordon himself, Officer John Blake finally was in the clear to approach Erik Henderson for further questioning. There was a game to be a played, and he played it well. He followed the rules, he made the appointment with his secretary, all in the hopes that today will not proved to be a hassle.

At least, that was his intention. Until now.

“So sorry, Officer…” the cold smile continued to linger in young woman’s face,“...but no appointment. But…” she paused, grabbing John’s attention, “…if you can wait a bit I can fit you in on a free time slot, how about that?”

Though her smile grew wider, it was evident her intentions were far from sincere. With a huge sigh, John smiled back tightly.

“That would be great, thanks”  He said politely, for the game was still on, and he had to keep playing. Joining Officer Nina Langdon, they made their way to the hallway together.

Henderson Incorporated Building proved to be lavish. And it certainly exuded a different energy from Wayne Enterprises. The decor had over-compensating written all over it, as if gold had a massive explosion, while the scent of strong lavender invaded their nostrils without permission. Nina sighed:

“Bet we’re gonna get ditched, I’m 100% sure” she muttered, with her arms folded. “Yeah...” John agreed, as they collectively gazed upon the secretary from a distance, “…especially now that it’s pretty obvious Henderson doesn’t wanna see us” He said. Turning back to the redhead, he sighed, “You didn’t have to come with me, you know”

“You kidding me?” Nina asked, shaking her head slowly, “I assigned myself to this case…” she stated, “…like it or not, I’m with you all the way”

John’s lips curved upward, for the subtle affection she delivered was not to be ignored, “Okay…” he accepted. For truthfully, he was always relieved to have her around.

“Although I’m definitely not happy with the waiting part” Nina pointed out casually. “Wait…What?” Laughing, Nina put her hand on his shoulder, “I’m kidding…” she added, “Cause…” suddenly her laughter disappeared, leaving nothing but a serious facade, “We’re NOT leaving until we talk to Henderson”.

Surprised, yet convinced, John nodded before dialing a number on his phone.

“Ma’am?” He began, with the phone pressed against his ear, “It’s Blake…”

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A call from John Blake was not expected by you that morning. Truthfully, you didn’t expect any call from anyone for you had no intention to answer any. But given the situation you did answer his. Sitting by the edge of the neatly made bed, you listened to Blake on speakerphone whilst dressed in nothing but the white towel.

“But…couldn’t you just go back another day?” You inquired with concern.

“We could…” the policeman replied, “But I won’t be surprised if they suddenly find it inconvenient to see us then” “Fair point…” you agreed with a nod. Looking up, you involuntarily smiled by the sight of Bruce walking towards you in a bathrobe,  “I really appreciate the help, Officer” You added. “Well, this definitely is a case unlike anything I’ve ever seen…” he said, “So we’ll keep you posted”

The moment you hung up, the mere device that was the mobile phone suddenly seemed insignificant as you stood up to face your lover. It was not long before you and Bruce Wayne possibly had the time of your lives making love without any sense of restriction nor interruptions, while the morning was the sole witness. It was not long before this neatly made bed had been full of crumpled sheets, and one destined wet towel. For others, it may have appeared to be a complete state of mess. However, for you it was a sweet reminder of total satisfaction, for that mess was a memory worth treasuring for eternity.

A gentle breath exited your lips the moment he pulled the towel off your nude frame. Gingerly placing a bathrobe around your shoulders, Bruce dressed you up with care. He even took his time proceeding to the smallest detail by tying up the robe tightly, all the while he maintained an unbreakable gaze at your direction. You felt attended, you felt cared for. Truthfully it had been sometime since you had this felt from a man. And it simply proved more than satisfactory.

“Thank you…” You murmured, closing one’s eyes in pleasure when he placed a loving kiss on your forehead. With a gentle tug on the sleeve, he guided you towards the chairs that faced the large windows. The moment your eyes graced over the outside world, you could not help but chuckle all the sudden.

“What?” Bruce inquired, and his confusion was valid. “Just…” You shrugged as you took a seat across from him,  “...never knew I had to literally worry about someone trying to have me killed” you added, feigning laughter. It was no laughing matter. For this was not an average matter of concern. It was much bigger. Given the manner your fingers nervously held the others, it was simply clear as day how you worried for your life.   “Well, I’m here…” Bruce’s gentle voice anchored you back to the light. For all the sudden, you remembered who exactly you sat across from. The guardian, the knight. Your knight. “I know….” You replied, smiling softly, “And I’m glad” you said, taking in a deep refreshing breath in what you were blessed with before you.

As much as the Dark Knight was glorious in black, Bruce appeared  ethereal in white. He always did, ever since you laid eyes on him. For you, he was the poster boy for crisp white shirts, pulling them off well it seemed criminal. And even this bathrobe he donned, came to a close second. The manner his hair gently had fallen over his face, the manner his side profile was proudly flaunted by mother nature, you could be nothing but grateful to witness them. You indulged then sight as he turned his head, gazing across the Gotham skyline with interest. Rays of sunshine illuminated the high rise buildings and other structures nearby, and the sight clearly had brought a huge smile to his face.

“Wow…” He finally breathed, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He said softly, his eyes still on the skyline.Your own eyes widened with disbelief.

“Please don’t tell me this is your first time realizing that!” You exclaimed, raising your eyebrows. “It is…”   “What?” Leaning forward, your jaw dropped involuntarily,“But...” you scoffed, “...how is that possible?” “Guess I’m not blind anymore...” Bruce replied, except his eyes were not glued to the skyline any longer. Where they were glued, you need not proof, especially when your cheeks began to flare up. His gaze, that gaze, it was what you always longed for. All these years. A gaze full of content. A gaze full of genuine affection. So wholesome it seemed unfathomable. “Why me?” Those words escaped you before you could take control. Bruce raised his eyebrows. “I don’t follow...” “I mean…” you paused, shyly bringing your legs up to sit cross legged, “I was too busy falling for you...that I didn’t even bother to ask you…” you chuckled, “…out of all the people, why pick me?” Truthfully, this was riffed with genuine curiosity. Thus, you did not blame yourself. Surprised by your inquiry, Bruce did not rush to answer. However, that in turn made your pulse race: “Cause, granted Bruce…” you interrupted, “.. I’m not this beautiful foreign ballerina, model or even an actress-” “You are very beautiful…” he protested gently. “Oh! I know I am…” You were surprised by your own  confidence, “It’s  just that…” taking a deep breath, you continued, “Wow! I actually can’t believe you think so…” you found yourself say, suddenly lost in the hazel orbs, “What? that’s not the real question…” you said, scoffing whilst shaking this spell away.

“You seem distracted” Bruce purred, his gaze affixed on you.

“All thanks to you…” you chuckled, blushes making an appearance once again. Inhaling deeply, you looked at him with genuine earnest: “Why...did you risk everything just to come bail me out that morning?”

You inquired, sitting up straight, “You’re Bruce Wayne...you’re someone who could definitely hold up your own…” you added, pointing at him with a sense of grandiose, “…and what I did was colossally embarrassing, not just to you but for the whole company...so…why?” “Loyalty…” Bruce’s reply, it made you blink. “Sorry?” He smiled, “Your loyalty…it…struck me…” he said, “And honestly...” he added, “... bailing you out was simply my way of thanking you…” “And I will always be grateful for that…But why-” “-did I fall for you?” He finished the sentence for you, but in a different way. One that made your heart skip. “I was gonna say...care for me but, I’ll take that instead” you said, smiling shyly. He chuckled: “I wish I could give you a clear answer on that…but I can’t…” he replied, in all honesty, “I mean, can you?” That was when you came to the simple realization. Not everything was a checklist, some phenomena in life are simply many a reasons infused into one entity. “No…” you breathed, “I guess I can’t…” you chuckled, “I mean, it’s not like it’s a Math Test where everything is technical, right?” You said, to which he nodded in sheer agreement. “The moment we started to talk...” Bruce began, “It just felt…so familiar…” he said, in a dire attempt to grasp the words, “…It felt like we were two-” “-friends?” This time, it was you who finished it for him. And he agreed here as well.

“Exactly…” he said,  “And then I just…I just couldn’t stop…”   “I get it…” you said, “I get it a lot” you agreed with a chuckle. It was no difficult task to do so, for your heart was brave witness to all the suffering undergone within you, the suppression of emotions brought up by him, “And, I know what I’m gonna say is very, very cheesy-” “Cheesier than the dinner last night?”

You could not help but guffaw, “No…” as he laughed alongside you, “Oh! come on! I trying to be serious here…” “Sorry…” Exhaling deeply, the laughter died down. Composing yourself from the humor, you were a surprise to your own self as you rose up from the chair.

“As I was saying…” you began, walking towards him while running your fingers through your hair, “…clearly there were the obvious signs of…wealth…and luxury surrounding you…” stating the obvious, you had an air of professionalism that seemed to amuse him, “…but from the moment I spoke to you in the car…” you said, certainly full of surprises as you sat across his lap, “I realized that…I really just wanted to spend time with…you”. A deep breath was indeed necessary, drinking in the man that was Bruce, “I really wanted to win the heart of Bruce...not the billionaire. Just…Bruce-”

His blessed name exited your lips in the best possible manner, especially when his own greedy lips captured you in a kiss. A kiss that traveled deeper to the trenches unknown in your soul. Your hands found haven in his hair, fingers tangled in his luscious locks, allowing your affections to transmit to him through the mere follicles of his existence. Bringing you closer to him, his hand rested gently on your back, stroking with a sense of care and even more. His lips, they seemed essential to you day by day, kiss after kiss. And that realization seeped in to you the moment he pulled away.

“Don’t go today...” His words, they brimmed of a plea. Yet, in truth, you did not seem to require much convincing. “I won’t…” you said softly, against his lips, “Cause… luckily for you…” your face lit up with cheer, “…. this employee rarely takes leave…”

Chuckles filled the room between the two. This, this simple form of comfort, happiness, it was all you ever longed for in life. And when it kissed you and held you tenderly, you found it quite difficult to believe.

“But seriously, I honestly think we both deserve a good break” you added with conviction, “Maybe we can watch something nice. Maybe I can cook for you, feed you, …” your affectionate tone had him throw you a hopeful gaze, “….Maybe watch you do pushups , and act like a lovestruck teenager” you chuckled by the mere thought of it.

“Anything you want…” Bruce certainly did not seem to mind, holding on to you with a sense of high value.

And in truth, those plans were simply perfect.

Even in the comfort of home, it certainly was a vacation. Just you and him together, the world was suddenly your oyster. Excitement bubbled within you both, when it finally was possible to experience the life of a normal couple. And you certainly was surprised when Bruce found it equally enthusiastic. Be it cooking, and cleaning which seemed to have some familiarity already. Be it an unexpected nap, curled up in each other’s arms, occasionally indulging kisses by the sofa whilst engaging with the television. Or be it gazing into each other’s eyes whilst slow dancing together in your sweats and t-shirts. Dusk was welcoming, bringing in nothing but softness while soothing music played in the background. Seeing him this content, you only wished Alfred had returned to witness.

“Do you like this?” You inquired gently, brushing one’s nose against his. And against the changing colors of dusk, you saw him nod. “So much so, I wish I could show you off to the whole world” he breathed.

That heart stirring phrase, surprisingly left you with a needful reminder. With your pulse growing fast, you were overcome with an urge.

“Bruce…” you began, “There’s something I want to tell you…”  you said, which suddenly captured his attention. You took a deep breath “I-”

“Master Wayne!”

Alfred Pennyworth’s booming voice never failed to gain attention. Both of you released each other from seeing the older man walk fast. Bruce grinned at him.

“Missed us already, Alfred?” He inquired. However, pleasure or amusement was the least of his concerns. In fact, his face was filled with concern.

“It’s about Arkham, Sir”

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“A security breakdown? at Arkham Asylum?”

Shooting up from his seat, Blake cried out into his phone, “But… how is that even possible?”. Shocked from what she just heard, Nina could do nothing but watch him.

“Yeah, man. That’s what they told us” Officer Dave Ramirez replied from the other side, “We’re on our way to hold down the place. It’s all good, John, don’t worry. I’ll look into it…”

“Thanks, Dave”

Hanging up, John sighed heavily, sitting next to Nina, “Something doesn’t feel right…” he said. He was not mistaken. For must that happen now? Out of all the times? Or had he just become the victim of a delusional nightmare?

It would seem fair, considering the fact waiting was all John and Nina had to do from morning, the one giant hurdle to overcome in order to reach their goal. At times, it seemed like a punishment, yet they kept waiting. Hours passed, and still they waited. They may had to go run down to satisfy their need for sustenance with some sandwiches, but they did not hesitate to return with more motivation and wait once again. Only upon looking through the glass windows were they informed of the arrival of dusk. And now with the news of Arkham, everything seemed out of reach and uncontrollable.

The young secretary suddenly stood up from her desk with a huge smile on her face. “Mr.Henderson is waiting for you…”

She said brightly. John and Nina looked each other, wondering if it finally was their chance as they got up. But to their disappointment, it seemed she was addressing the 4 men in suits carrying suitcases that just arrived behind them. Given their appearances and features, Blake quickly identified them to be the Henderson Legal Team. Shooting cold glances, the men swiftly entered Henderson’s office one by one. And this time, Nina Langdon scoffed out loud:

“Unbelievable…” she muttered under her breath. “Nina…” filled with hopelessness, John muttered with concern, “…we can go bac-” “No!” She interrupted, looking at him, “We waited this long…” she said, “Not now…”

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It was not shameful to acknowledge  the simple fact you were nervous. For it was not the time to be in denial.

“Would you like to return to the Penthouse miss?”

You halted. Pacing back and forth in constant motion, you certain had forced Alfred Pennyworth to take notice. And you were embarrassed by it.

“No, I’m good…” you shook your head, “Thank you” smiling softly. Suddenly, you were overcome with a sense of unprofessionalism. You took a deep breath, “Did Bruce always use this place?” You inquired, looking around the underground concrete chamber.  

“Not when he was in the Wayne Manor” Alfred replied, sitting in front of the CCTV monitors. With the fire burning most of the Wayne Manor down a few years back, it seemed to make quite the sense to find solace in the Wayne Penthouse and here. Though the news blamed the man’s intoxication for the fire, you wondered if there was reason deeper at play. His enemies? Could tonight be a trap set out for him as well? Involuntarily you found yourself rubbing your forearms as a result. “It’s Master Wayne, Miss” Alfred said, “He will be alright” Smiling at him gratefully, you stood next to him to watch the screens. He was right. You hoped to believe him above all others. It was not too long since Bruce left. Thus, the memory remained fresh in your mind.

“But, but...wasn’t the Asylum supposed to have firm security?”

Your naive and loud  inquiry also was fresh in your memory, as the three of you descended to the concrete chamber. Your eyes were filled with quite a sight of the lair, the moment the white lights began to illuminate.

“It was supposed to…”

Bruce replied, hurried walking towards the monitors. Truthfully, when Alfred came in with the news, you assumed you would have been ask to head home. Therefore, being asked to accompany was unexpected. However, you worried of your possible lack of helpfulness.

“And we just have audio?”

“That’s what Gotham PD got…”

He said, as he kept replaying the phone call. The caller presumably from Arkham, was filled with fear. The more times the clip was played, the more you sensed the atmosphere in the room tense with every second. And by the 5th replay, you saw Bruce get up.

“I gotta get over there…” he said.

“What?”

Your involuntary response leaped out as your eyes traced his movements. As much as you were filled with wonder by the sight of the Bat suit, hung on a transparent rack that emerged from the concrete floor. “The police is going to need all the help it can get, if a breakout happens…” He added standing with arms crossed,  “Especially with the patients in there…”

“You mean like the J-” “Yeah…” “Of course…”

You said quietly. This certainly was not the time to protest for his safety or panic. A sense of responsibility came over you, the responsibility for your own emotions here. You were obligated to offer him your trust in this moment. Turning towards you, Bruce flashed a soft smile:

“Sorry I couldn’t give you the full tour…”

You shook your head without hesitation, “There’s time for that later…” you said, walking over to him, “Just-”you paused, “Be careful, okay?” For that all you could utter. That was what you should utter.

“I will…” Bruce replied, with you a reassuring look, “You stay put”

The sudden vibration in your sweatpants pocket, ushered you back to reality. Taking the phone out, Your eyes widened by the sight of the caller.

“Clara! Hey!” You answered with a smile, “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you last night I-”

“Listen, I need your help” you heard her mutter, “I think…” she inhaled a shakily, “I think I’m in trouble…”

With a cascade of words streaming out of her lips and into your ears through the communication line, certainly made you freeze in a stance. The manner in which your hand clenched, you were certain her distress was no simple matter. She needed your help.

Your initial instinct longed to dash out to the rescue. Yet you made a promise. Never did you preferred to be the naive one and break Bruce’s trust. However, you would never forgive yourself if you could not help either.

“Alfred..”

You breathed, as soon as you hung up, “I’m sorry but… I think I gotta go…Now before you say anything, there’s just a place I really need to be…A friend is in trouble” your lips rambled with concern, “Alfred, you gotta trust me. I wouldn’t go unless its necessary” you brought your hands together, “Please-”

“I believe you…”

Alfred answered with confidence. And you were truly surprised. Perhaps you expected protests and refusal.

“You do?”

“Yes” He said, “Which is why… I know you will do exactly as I say…”

Then again, given the years this man had lived through, it could be possible for him to easily trace of sincerity in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you felt your fist loosen:

“I’m all ears…”

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The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, or Arkham Asylum for short, a psychiatric hospital-prison was home to the most criminally insane in the city of Gotham. Thus, the mere mention of a breach of it’s security certainly caused panic far and wide.

However, the moment Officer Dave Ramirez arrived at the scene, doubts and confusion was all he could come up with.

Standing in the midst of the chatter and the several police cars parked, his arms remained crossed as he slowly shook his head in disappointment. His gaze affixed on his partner, Officer Vance exiting the Asylum building with a skinny man handcuffed.

“A False alarm? Really?”

Ramirez inquired his partner with a scoff, “Do they think we’re a joke?” He questioned further as the man was  seated in the car. He certainly had a fair point. Never did they expect to come down all this way just to realize security breach existed, and it all was nothing but a fake call made by one convincing staff member in administration. With Arkham managing to apprehend the staff, several Gotham PD cars with armed officers had arrived just for a simply handover. It was an embarrassment to the riches. Closing the car door behind him, Vance sighed: “Well, the call was pretty convincing” he replied, looking at Ramirez, “Why he did it, he wont say..” “What?” “Yep, quiet as a mouse-” “HELP!” The loud cry from the seemingly quiet man forced every officer to turn in alarm, including Vance and Ramirez. “Oh…my…god” Ramirez muttered in shock as he lowered his guard. By the sight of none other than the Batman himself.

In a matter of swift movements, he had seemed to grabbed the man out of the car, only to press him fiercely against it with a loud thud! “Why did you do it?” Batman growled at the man, as Ramirez and Vance approached him, “Why did you make the call?” “Please! Don’t hurt me” the man  whimpered whilst hyperventilating, “I had my reasons” “Trust me, Buddy” Ramirez began, “Better save yourself now with the truth, before the Court rips you out with prison time” Truthfully, no officer was as shocked to see the Batman than Dave Ramirez. Known to the whole station as the shameless fan of the Dark Knight, this moment was rewarded for his patience. Yet regardless, it was key that he maintain his level of professionalism and suppress his inner fanatic. With his breath slowing down, the skinny man raised his hands in defense as he took a deep breath: “I was on my way to the store on my day off...” he continued, “...and all the sudden a car pulled up, and it got dark cause I had a bag over my head” he gulped, “....the next thing I knew, I was drowned in a bathtub full of ice” he said in pain, “...threatening me to fake a security fail and call the police…” “You could have told us that, you know?” Vance said. The man’s eyes widened. “How could I, man?” He said, “I was being fucking watched” he added through gritted teeth, “He was threatening to kill my family” “Who was it?” Batman inquired. “Some guy” he said, “...he was dressed in all black” “With a skull shaped mask?” Batman managed to add to his query before the cops could even interfere. The man nodded frantically: “Yes! AH-” Dropping the man down from his grip, Batman surprised all as he began to walk away out of the scene, “Keep this man safe” he growled pointing at the man. Vance and Ramirez looked at each other with confusion: “Wait! What’s going on?” Ramirez inquired. “This is a ruse” Batman replied hoarsely, as he climbed on his Bat-pod, the red and blue blinking lights reflected in his direction in the night. “For what?” Dave seemed more confused, until he gasped, “WAIT!” He cried as the Bat-Pod exited their location with a roaring sound, disappearing into the darkness faster than anyone expected. “Damn it!” Dave cried out, throwing his hat on the ground. Vance seemed concerned. “You okay?” Dave sighed into his palms, “Couldn’t even take a photo of the guy”he mumbled, to which Vance did nothing but roll his eyes.   “Pretty sure he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, Dave. The guy’s too smooth”

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Parting greetings were heard and exchanged between the secretary and other employees as most of them prepared to go home after a long day. Half and hour passed, and the Lawyers still appeared to be in Henderson’s Office. Crossing his legs, Blake looked at the young woman:

“Long night tonight, huh?” Blake said, motioning towards the office door. She however, did not look surprised.

“Oh, it’s nothing new” she replied nonchalantly, turning her attention back to the computer.

Finally, the suits managed to exit Henderson’s office, but to John’s surprise, Simone still did not offer the green light he so required, as she merely shook her head in feigned apology. Exiting the washroom, Nina returned, only to identify the dejected look on John’s face.

“Still no?” She asked, to which Blake nodded upsettingly. Never was he the one to give up. Except this time, he was compelled to. A part of him wondered if it was his sheer naiveté blinding him. Sighing, it seemed that Nina Langdon was not going to take this anymore.

“Well, here goes nothing”

She muttered, taking a deep breath, “Ma’am?”

Changing her voice to a more polite tone, Nina approached the secretary, “Uh… it’s Simone right? I’m sorry but I think there’s a problem with the lock in the washroom. Could you check it out for me?”

Confused, the young woman seemingly was encouraged to listen. “Yeah sure...” She said, standing up to follow Nina towards the washroom. Getting up , John leaned towards that direction to listen:

“The door seems fine” he heard the young woman’s voice echo, “…Where exactly is the proble-HEY!!!”

“Oh gosh! I’m so sorry! See? I told you there’s something wrong with the lock. Let me-Let me get some help, okay?”

Smirking to himself, John could detect Nina’s feigned innocence with his eyes closed. And within seconds, she appeared before him, for time was of the essence:

“I locked her in. GO GO GO!” She hissed.

Suddenly tension was high, and while Nina kept watch by the washroom, John made his way to Henderson’s office. One way or another, he was certain to charge his way in and obtain answers.

“I hope we can put an end to this soon, Mr. Henderson…”

John paused. He had to, upon hearing a polite male voice through the door, which conveniently was never completely closed. And that was when he realized, out of the 4 men that entered half and hour earlier, only 3 had left. Holding his breath, John remained frozen as he could possibly be.

“….the Police is starting to get suspicious. Did you see the two waiting outside?”

“What? They’re still there?? I figured making them wait will make them leave”

Erik Henderson’s irritated voice boomed loud enough to end up in John’s ears with clarity. Given the tone of this conversation, he was more than certain this was of great importance. And when he took out his phone and pressed record, he was grateful of his decision.

For the answers he desired for, were finally handed to him on a silver platter. For the waiting finally seemed worthwhile. For Henderson’s attempts were merely futile.

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Your legs shook with nervousness in the taxi, when you made your way to Wayne Tower.

The fact you were merely dressed in Bruce’s black T-shirt and your sweatpants did not seem relevant at all at this point, for it was vital that you be there. For Clara. Especially since her phone call kept replaying in your mind on a constant loop:

“You might think I’m nuts but, I think I may have a stalker situation. Told you! It’s nuts, but had a feeling ever since I came to Wayne Enterprises. Uh…weeks later, it started to get worse…that’s why…that’s why I even had to leave sooner than my contract. When I left, I thought it would get better, but now I’m getting these weird silent calls and-Oh god! I didn’t know who else to call. Can we meet at Wayne Tower, please?  Its the safest place I could think of…”

The moment you felt the vehicle slow down, you were not hesitant to quickly stuff extra change you had into the pleased driver’s hand, jumping out of the car soon after. “You alright, sport?” Bill the Doorman inquired, as he saw you dash towards his direction. “Yeah!” You panted, “...by the way, did you see Clara come in?” “The consultant lady?” The man inquired, “Sure, I-” he paused when you made your way inside in a flash. Already past closing time, the building was almost unoccupied. Thus, the elevators were kinder. Tapping your foot impatiently as you made your way up, you truly wished for Clara’s safety. In your life, You were proudly capable of getting your Best Friend Allison our of debt. But tonight, you wondered if you were truly able to help out Clara? Would you possess the necessary sources? “CLARA!?!?” Yelling out, you jumped into the HR Floor. Only to find no one there. “Boss! What you doing here?” Except for Greg, the Assistant Manager, who walked towards you with his bag slung across his chest. Panting, you were certain you were a mess. Truthfully you did not care.   “Looking...” you panted, “...for Clara…” you said, holding him by his forearms, “Did you see her?” You inquired in seriousness. “Yeah I did...” he appeared confused, “ ...said she was heading to the roof....” Greg added,  “I mean, it was kinda weird to see her back after the goodbye and-” “Okay great, Thanks Greg!” You would normally feel remorseful for cutting him off this way, yet this was not the time. For it seemed you simply were not blessed with enough time. With the technology of Wayne Enterprises, getting to the top floor was not task at all, yet even the mere few seconds seemed terribly slow. “Please, Please! Don’t be in trouble” You muttered to yourself, “Please...” Jumping out once again, your heartbeat reached a new level of speed, whilst you prayed to find her outside on the rooftop.

“CLARA? I-”

Halting in your tracks, you froze. With immense shock. A shock you had never faced before in your life. Clara Bennett stood by the edge of the rooftop. Except she was not alone.

“No!” you breathed, “ Alpha... ” The pain of the strangulation haunted you once more, upon seeing the dark figure. Grabbing her tightly by the back of her neck, Alpha stood beside Clara, with a gun pointed directly into her lowered head. Given the distance, you had difficulty tracing Clara’s emotions at this point. Regardless, you knew she was a mess.Your heart pounded even further with desperation. Were you really capable of assisting now? “YOU!” You cried, taking a step forward, “W-What are you doing here??” Desperation forced you with an inquiry. For you were genuinely impatient for answers.However, Alpha did not reply. A passenger plane headed towards the direction of Wayne Tower. You would not have paid it much attention if it were not for Alpha looking up. What plan did it have? You were helpless. “What do you want with her? She’s got nothing to do with this!” You yelled with desperation as the plane flew overhead with enough proximity, forcing you to yell out even further as Alpha grabbed Clara tighter. The sound emitting from the flying machine was thunderous, and so was your fear:
 “Please! Just leave her out of th-”
 An air shattering bang struck you hard on the ears, leaving you frozen. It was a gunshot, and it seemed quite evident. Especially when Alpha finally lowered its gun, leaving Clara Bennett to fall on the ground, like a piece of meat. Suddenly, all your worst fears had come to light.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!”

You bellowed, your feet urging you to dash over to her body. Alpha had disappeared somehow, and truthfully you did not care. “Clara? Clara?” You cried out, as tears flowed down your cheeks like a raging stream, “Oh my god! Oh my god!” you whimpered, seeing her slumped on her stomach facing down, body unmoving, “ Please don’t be dead, Please…” you said, as you turned her over. 
 Except your tears did not make sense, when you realized why she was a mess. For it was not Clara. As much as you were certain it was her clothes and the hairstyle, it was not her. Though it was someone seemingly familiar.

“E-Emilio??”

You muttered softly, eyes widened by the sight of the man dead on the ground. However, you were filled with another confusion. If this was Emilio in disguise, then what of the real Clara? Where was she all along?

Bang!

A thundering clap rang in your ears as your body jerked with surprise. Before you knew it, you found your own self  falling to the ground in an instant.

You landed on your back with a loud thud! Your breathing was loud, but your heartbeat was louder. Even your sight did not fail to grow blurry. Thus, numbness had taken over you whilst you were knee deep in confusion. Only within a few seconds did a raging pain arose from your stomach.
 You were shot. Were you to meet Emilio’s fate as well?

“Don’t worry...Clara is okay” 


Screams exited your lips the moment Alpha’s voice haunted you, all the while pressing it’s foot on your stomach, right on the gunshot. Raging pain enraged itself even further. Suddenly your vision was far from blurry as you watched the dark figure stand before you.

“In fact, she’s more than..okay”

Alpha said, with its free hand reach for  its mask. You drew in deep breaths, “H-How?” You coughed weakly, “How do you know?”

Your inquiry seemed remorseful when you saw the figure slowly unmask oneself. And the moment it freed itself from the constraints, the moment your eyes caught the sight of the one behind it, every trace of oxygen suddenly expired.

For it was Clara.

Eyes widening even further, your heart plummeted straight deep, and hope was nonexistent anymore. Clara Bennett, the consultant was Alpha, the Assassin this entire time? Worst of all, the one who had been trying to eliminate your existence?

“No no no no…”

You kept repeating through the pain,  “I mean, Henderson being an ass, I can understand, but this?” You muttered weakly. With a scoff brimming with sadness, you looked at her directly, “You’re not even a consultant , are you?”

You inquired, which was followed by a cough.

“Why else wouldn’t I be working at Hudsons, the best HR consultancy company?” She chucked coldly, with her eyebrow raised, “They’re too legit to fake your way in…it’s definitely a grueling process”

You screamed further, as she continued to press on to the wound tighter with her foot. Standing tall and looking down at you,  Clara’s eyes had no life whilst her lips adjusted her expression close to smugness. A smugness that seemed much colder than what you saw in her on the very first day. Dressed in her black suit and armor vest, she was the epitome of power. And before her, you were certainly powerless beyond all measure.

Being smothered with pain, it was evident you were about to meet your maker. Worst of all, to face the end with treachery. Inevitability cannot be amended, thus you had no choice but to remain calm.

If only you spoke to Bruce one last time before all this. If only. Your heart may have not suffered from the bullet, yet it already was shattered into a million pieces. How could Clara do this?

“That’s quite the risk you took…” you breathed with snark, “...revealing yourself with all the CCTV’s around.” “Wouldn’t exactly be a risk if the cameras are rewired now, would it?” Clara replied with thicker snark, “Besides, I had help” You gasped the moment your eyes caught the sight of Emilio standing beside her, his head donned with red stains and no wig. You chuckled sadly. Indeed, he was never dead after all. Easily fitting the profile of the Bodega shootout, you never felt this idiotic to not notice. “Loyalty has its perks, you know that” Clara smiled, her actions familiar yet different at the same time. Your eyes grew watery. Indeed, you knew. However, little did she know she took advantage of yours. “So all that…” you began, voice choking with emotion, “…the initial dispute, driving me up the wall…” you sniffed, “…frustrating me, questioning my abilities, then..” “-Making up with you and being friends shit blah blah...yeah! It was all an act” she said, shrugging it off with casualty, “…how else could I get you to trust me?” It was a nightmare come to life. It was that unfathomable. Beyond your comprehension . Losing trust was never a shock. But to the degree of murder, definitely a first. “And here I thought I made a new friend…” you muttered, holding back your tears. “For a second I thought the same…” Clara added, to your genuine surprise, “…truthfully anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, I won’t lie….”  she said, her tone growing sombre whilst you caught a sense of warmth in her eyes,  “…but…” blinking the warmth away, her orbs were chilled once more, “…you know what they say: ‘Never mix business with Personal’ ” A part of you longed for the goodness in her to overpower her taste for blood. “Still…” you said, through gritted teeth, “ I think there REALLY was no need for theatrics like this ”  you said, looking at the emotionless Emilio. He had trained well, you had a feeling. And so was Clara. Was her name really that ? You wondered.

“True…” Clara acknowledged with a nod. Fearful whimpers left you the moment she stepped away from your stomach, cocked the gun and pointed right at you. “…but you were not so easy to kill now, were you?” She said,  “…especially with your special friend watching over you the whole time”

Panting, your eyes squinted with confusion, “W-Who?“

“She meant me!”

A familiar growl, it awakened your senses in a flash, alarming the others as another black figure jumped in to shield you.

Batman. Bruce.

The sight of the majestic, flowing cape and the pointed ears brought a sense of security to you once again. Even if you were dying.

“Well…” Clara pointed her gun at him with a smile,  “…this was an eventuality” “YOU AGAIN!”

Fuming with anger, Emilio yelled out upon mere sight of him. Fascinating how anger and rage blasts through his cold exterior similar to a bomb.

“You won’t get to her…” Batman growled, “…without going through me”

“Don’t worry!” Clara responded, “We won’t disappoint”

All before she began to fire shots at him, to your horror.

But Batman was indeed Batman. And with the shots being deflected with no hesitation, he seemingly managed to approach  her close enough for an offense attack, until Emilio dove in, lunging at Batman with enough ferocity, he fell backwards. Getting up, you watched him finding himself being surrounded by two assassins circling him like a pack of wolves. Impatient Emilio attacked first, with a diagonal kick right on his stomach, providing Clara enough  opportunity to kick from the back. Though attacked from multiple sides, Batman did not falter. With his sturdy frame safeguarding him, defense was his only option for the time being. However, that did not stop him from making life difficult for the two.

Panting hurriedly, you watched the Dark Knight, the man you truly cared for, being attacked by merciless assassins. This sight, it certainly was not the what you hoped for him. Not another death. Not when your own life was almost slipping away.

Except, you came to a realization. Was it not that you had been “slipping away”  for longer than expected? Placing a hand over the gun shot wound with suspicion, you felt through it. Looking at the hand, you gasped.

For there was no blood. Not even one drop.

With fingers tracing over your stomach further, you sighed with relief, when you were reminded why exactly.

Pure adrenaline and sheer motivation energized your heart to pump fast and for you to jump up to your feet. You were adamant in helping him. But you were well aware of your own limited capabilities. Watching the violent encounter, you suddenly heard an object drop. It was your phone, vibrating with a call. From John Blake.

“Officer Blake!” You answered with haste, “Thank God…” you wailed with desperation.

“Ma-am! Wait! Whats going on?” He inquired with concern, “ You okay?”

“It’s Alpha!” You cried, as you crouched on to the ground, “We’re being attacked at Wayne Tower-DUCK!”  You cried, looking at struggling Bruce, “Batman’s here but-”

“Okay! Okay! Stay Calm! We’ll be on our way…”

The moment you hung up, a text suddenly appeared on the screen. Also from Blake, which read:

Henderson on tape. This may be useful with Alpha. Hurry!

Seeing a voice file attached right below, your eyes squinted with confusion. What could that possibly mean? However, patience was beyond your reach at the moment.  Placing your trust on John Blake, you remained crouched and listened to the file. The moment the recording finally finished, your eyes widened with shock.

Amidst the chaos in the background, you stared at the phone screen. For the only question lingering in your conscious was: Could this actually solve everything?

——————————————————

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Miraclous: Rise of Anatis 49

And here's Guitar Villain. I hope you like it. The next chapter is the silencer inspired chapter, which I'm very exited for but right now, it's 3 am so I will be going to bed and I'll start it tomorrow. Also I can't believe this story's nearly at 50 chapters :D Anyway my bed calls!

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Chapter Forty-Nine: Guitar Villain Vs XY (2/2)

Luka smiled as he watched Jagged play his guitar. He was stood next to Penny and Bob Roth as Jagged played a solo for his new song. It was a rock song, devoted to Anatis and Lady Noir. Luka had to admit that it captured their energy perfectly and it made him wonder if Jagged had a similar ability to himself. He found it fascinating to watch Jagged as he easily moved his fingers across the fret-board. He really was an amazing guitarist. Maybe one of the best of all time. The rockstar was wearing his signature Eiffel tower glasses and was headbanging as he rocked out as well as jumping around, making Luka smile. He really did have a lot of energy. He jumped and did a power slide, throwing his head back.

 "My miraculous!" He sang, bringing the song to an end as Luka clapped along with Penny clapped before Jagged jumped and handed Penny his guitar. Bob Roth, on the other hand, didn't look so impressed but Luka got the impression that it was hard to impress the guy. "So what do you think of the first single on my new album? Can you feel it, Bob? Isn't it killer?"

 "Not bad, Jagged, not bad," Bob replied before lifting his hand into the air a little as Luka took a seat on the sofa. Fang climbed up and rested his head on Luka's lap. He smiled and gently patted the crocodile as he watched the adults. "But if you really want to be making something killer, let's talk about this duet with Mr XY,"

 "No way, he's not a rocker," Jagged replied, frowning as Luka rolled his eyes. XY's music wasn't even music at all. There was no heart or emotion. It was just boring and repetitive. It's almost as bad as Lila's heart song if you could call it a song. Luka thought it more as screeching, like a distress animal trying to call for help or foxes in mating season. "He's a baby. I bet he doesn't even shave yet. Nah, if you want me to do a duet with someone young, it should be my kid. He's got real talent,"

 "Yet not even signed," Bob argued, throwing a glare at Luka. However, he quickly looked away when Fang let out a low growl. "Besides, this 'baby' just pushed you out of the number one sale spot!"

 "And?" Jagged asked, shrugging. "Doesn't make him a true musician like me. Penny and Luka think what I'm doing is Rockstar material. They think I'm killer,"

 "Penny might be your agent and that boy might be your son but I'm your real boss," Bob growled, making Jagged glare at him and Penny step back. Instantly, Fang moved off the sofa and toward them in a protective manner. He pinched his nose before sighing. "Listen, Bob Roth records can't afford to be No.2 in sales or rep a No.2 rockstar! Get real, Jagged! You gonna have to modernize your music, change the way you look... Get a whole new style!"

 "Tsk," Jagged replied clearly annoyed as he crossed his arms. "You wanna talk about real? I'm a genuine rock and roller, Bob, not some pop star in diapers! I'm a real artist with real talent. Even my hair is real! And that's what people love about me!"

 He grabbed his guitar and slid over to Fang.

 "Isn't that right, Fang? Yeah," He asked the crocodile, grinning before jumping up. "And the artwork you came up with my new album is a waste of my time! Seriously, Bob, what is this trash? It looks like a perfume ad!"

 "And that's what people want these days!" Bob replied, poking Jagged in the chest.

 "Well, I don't!" Jagged replied, frowning. "Honestly, Bob, I don't get what your issue is! Last year, I got to number one without looking like that! My album covers are suppose to be raw to the bone, exuding the smell of sweat and leather!"

 "You do know, don't you, that if your next album doesn't rank no.1 in the charts, it will be the last one you'll ever do in Bob Roth Records,"

 "Doesn't seem like a loss to me," Luka muttered, causing Bob to glare at him.

 "I'd rather put out nothing at all rather then sing some pathetic duet with that baby faced nobody," Jagged muttered, turning his back on Bob as he glared. Penny held up her hands as she stepped in to control the situation.

 "Bob, Jagged and I had an idea," She replied, taking his arm and causing him to look at her. "It's concept is modern but it also respects Jagged's own 'rugged' style,"

 "The school girl who made these glasses has some real talent. I've commissioned her for several pieces since she made these and she's real good friends with my son so I know she is killer too," Jagged grinned, holding out his glasses as Luka glanced over. Is he gonna suggest what he thinks he is? "She gets my style. She'll design the cover of my new album,"

 "A school girl?" Bob asked, unimpressed.

 "Luka, show Bob your jacket," Jagged grinned, causing Luka to stand up and grab his jacket from the hook. He pull it on and walked over, causing Bob to look at it. His expression quickly turned from unimpressed to fascinated. "Marinette is a totally killer designer with a real bright future,"

"She also is the same age as the target audience, Bob," Penny explained, making him nod as he listened. "Here's her address,"

 "Alright but just think about this duet with Mr XY," Bob replied, taking the address and leaving the room as Luka took off the jacket and flopped back onto the sofa.

 "Why not contact Marinette yourself or commission her through her website?" Luka asked, making Jagged eyes go big. He forgot that Jagged didn't know about the website yet. Marinette was still shy about telling people, especially with the whole Reflekdoll incident. Luckily, they redid the photo shoot and got some really nice pictures. Juleka modeled most of the outfits but he also modeled a few of them. They even got some great photos of them together. He was really happy to see Juleka doing it. She honestly did amazingly. "Marinette's gonna kill me,"

 "Yep," Penny laughed before sitting down. "Since it's for Jagged's album cover, it works a little different to how we get his outfits but I'm sure Marinette will agree and do great. Though I wish Bob would drop the whole duet thing with XY,"

 "Why does he keep pushing it?" Luka asked, frowning, Penny sighed.

 "Probably because XY is his son," Penny sighed, making Luka frown. He didn't know that. "Either way, I can't wait to see what Marinette will come up with,"

 "Same here," Luka smiled as Jagged handed him a guitar. He smiled and took it before the rockstar grabbed his own and took a seat. The two of them began to jam, causing Penny to smile.

 ~Later that Day~

 "Marinette is here," Penny smiled, showing the girl in. Luka smiled and waved at her, making her wave back at him. He could tell she felt nervous but it wasn't because she was in front of Jagged Stone or Bob Roth. It felt like she was worried that they wouldn't like her design and honestly her music sounded a little dull, like her normal creativity had been sucked out of her. He frowned a little as she walked over to them and held out the cover design. Jagged took it and instantly frowned, holding it by the corner. Luka frowned as he saw it too. It was nicely designed but definitely not Jagged or Marinette's style. In fact, it looks very similar to the XY album cover and like a perfume ad but that explained Marinette's song. 

 "What happened to the raw impulsive artistry that made this?" Jagged asked, dropping it to the floor but Marinette didn't even react. She was not proud of her work at all. She sighed and stepped forward.

 "Yeah... about that,"  She mumbled, rubbing the back of her head. "Mr Roth told me-"

 "Marinette's young, Jagged!" Bob gasped, pushing her out of the way. Instantly, Luka narrowed his eyes and gripped his guitar tightly. "She represents the target audience. She's come up with a modern concert that's exactly what you need,"

 "You mean you pressured her into making that for what you need," Luka stated, making Bob glare at him as Marinette looked a little surprise. She pressed her forefingers together. So he was spot on then.

 "Doesn't it look a lot like the cover of that YZ guy?" Jagged smirked, clearly knowing what Bob had tried to before he turned to Marinette. "Marinette, don't listen to Bob. Could you do another one... you know Jagged Style?"

 "Yeah... sure," She replied but Bob placed his hand on her shoulder and growled a little, causing Luka to narrow his eyes again. He was ready to jump and pull her away from Bob if he moved his hand any farther. "But I don't know if..."

 "You're my girl, Marinette. Remember... raw, impulsive artistry" Jagged stated, taking her hand in his before turning to Bob. "I think we're all done here, Bob,"

 "No, we'-" Bob started, moving his arm around Marinette, causing her to look uncomfortable. Almost as soon as he did, Luka jumped up and easily pulled her out of his grip as Fang growled. He held her protectively as he glared at Bob backed away from Fang. Seeing the chance, Penny got up and walked over to them.

 "Come with me, Marinette," Penny smiled, leading her away from Bob. Luka gave him one last glare before turning to Jagged.

 "I'm gonna head out with Marinette," He explained, getting a nod of him. "See you later,"

 "Of course, Luka. Just drop us a text when you want to spend some more time with your old man!" Jagged grinned as Luka put down the guitar and grabbed his jacket. He jogged over to Marinette as Penny told her not to worry, causing Bob to notice. He tried to say they weren't done but Fang growled at him again, scaring him.

 "You off, Luka?" Penny asked, getting a nod of him as Marinette blinked up at him. "Well, don't be a stranger,"

 "I won't be," He smiled before turning to Marinette and offered her his arm. She giggled but happily took it as they walked over to the lift.

 "You didn't have to leave because of me," She mumbled, making him look at her.

 "It's fine," He smiled. "I was getting hungry and the music in the room was getting pretty loud so I could with the fresh air,"

 "Ah, I see," She replied before doing a dramatic sigh. "And here I thought you just wanted to spend some time with me?"

 "I mean um..." He gasped, going bright red and making her laugh. "I cou-could get you lunch if you like?"

 "Hmm, you know I'd like that," She smiled as they walked in the lift. She leaned over and pressed the button as she sighed. "But I really should get started on this album cover,"

 "Oh right, yeah... of course," He mumbled, going a little red. She giggled a little. 

 "But maybe we could hang out tomorrow?" She asked, making him glance at her. "I know it's not quite lunch today but it would be nice to spend some time with you,"

 "Y-Yeah?" He asked. His cheeks were still a little bit flushed. "That would be great,"

 "It's a date then," She grinned, smirking as he went a little red. She giggled as she thought it was adorable. The door opened in the lift, causing them to step out and head towards the exit. Marinette stopped and leaned up, kissing Luka's cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow then,"

 "Kay," He muttered, a little dazed. She smiled and walked, lifting his hand to wave as she left. He stood there for a few seconds as he smiled dreamily before Tikki poked him in his side, making him blink as Adrien got out of his car.

 "Hey, Luka," He smiled, waving to him as he walked over. "You ok? Your cheeks are red,"

 "O-oh I'm fine," Luka grinned as Chloe rushed past him and hugged Adrien, causing him to smile and greet her back. She noticed Luka and grinned.

 "Hey, Luka. Are you wanting to meet Jagged Stone as well?" She asked, making him chuckle a little. If only she knew. "I've arranged for me and Adrien to meet him! If you want you can come with us!!"

 "Oh, that's nice of you, Chloe," Luka smiled. "But I was just gonna get a bite to eat and head home,"

 "Ooh, why don't you have something from the restaurant?" She gasped, grabbing his hand and dragging him inside with Adrien, who just shrugged. Luka went to say he couldn't afford it, making Chloe tut. "Oh, don't sweat it, Luka. I'll get it for you. It's the least I can do given how kind you've been to me. Besides, you're my friend,"

 "Thank you but I really don't mind getting food else where," He replied, noticing Bob Roth sat doing an interview near by. He glared towards him a little.

 "Honestly, it's fine," She grinned, pressing the lift button. "Daddy won't care as he gives me anything I want,"

 "Well, I gu-" Luka started as Bob Roth mentioned something about Jagged doing a duet with XY but a growl cut him, causing everyone to look in direction it came from. Luka gasped as he saw a giant purple dragon that looks similar to Fang before noticing the man below it. He was dressed in a dark gray sleeved top with a turtle neck collar and yellow flames going up the sides. It also had pointed edges on the shoulders and the sleeves were purple with black fishnets on them. He had a dark gray belt with purple spikes on it around his waist. Her pants were dark gray with yellow flames up going up with his legs. His gloves and boots were dark gray with purple spikes on each of them. His hair was in long dreadlocks and was light pink with a dark pink ombre. He had black face paint around his eyes which resembled the face paint of Gene Simmons of Kiss. He was holding his guitar, which was a shiny purple with two black points instead of it's circular form.

 "From now on, you call him Guitar Villain and he'll never do a duet with Mr XY!" The akumatized Jagged declared, causing Luka to stare at him in shock. "In fact, soon there won't even be a Mr XY! Rocking Riff, Baby!"

 He played his guitar while head banging, causing a purple energy to appear and hit Bob Roth and the woman who was interviewing him. They started to rock out and jump around as if at a metal concert, causing Guitar Villain to smirk.

 "Soon there will be nothing but guitar villain fans," He declared, moving his hand in front of him. "The one and only rocker on earth,"

 "Dad," Luka muttered as he held up his hands in the horns symbol.

 "Dad?" Adrien questioned, causing Luka to turn and face him and Chloe, who looked at him with surprise. He had forgotten they were there. Adrien blinked and looked over at him. "Jagged is yo-"

 "Please don't tell anyone," Luka gasped, surprising them as the lift door opened. He pushed them in and pressed the upper floor. "I'll explain everything later but go and hide. I'm gonna alert the akuma app and hide behind that plant pot,"

 "Huh? But isn't it sa-" Chloe started but the door to the lift closed before she could finish the sentence. Luka moved behind the plant pot and ducked down as Guitar Villain began to walk down the stairs. He took out his phone and activated the akuma alert app, even though he was already on the scene. It would stop Adrien and Chloe from questioning him about that part.

 "Yeah! Guitar Villain!" Guitar Villain declared as he walked to the door with Fang flying next to him. "Whoo!"

 "Well, at least he's kind of himself," Tikki muttered as she flew out of his pocket.

 "Still it's like Hawkmoth has an issue with my family," Luka muttered, frowning. Hawkmoth has targeted Rose and his mum once and he's targeted Juleka twice. Now he's gone after his dad. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that Hawkmoth knows who he really is. However, he knows that he's been really careful with his identity. He let out a sigh before looking at Tikki. "Time to face the music. Tikki, spots on!"

 He transformed into Anatis and rushed outside as the doorman head-banged. He threw up his yoyo and swung onto the rooftops. He looked around and saw that a number of people, pigeons and cars had been hit by Guitar Villain, causing them to be forced to head-bang. He frowned to himself before swinging over to the Fontaine du Palmier, landing on it as Guitar Villain hit a mother and her child with his beam.

 "You know moshing is really bad for people's necks!" He declared, causing Guitar Villain to face him.

 "Trying to crash my party, bug boy?" He asked, taking out his guitar. "Awesome solo!"

 He played his guitar, directing a golden beam towards Anatis. He jumped up and moved out of the way as it hit it, causing it to fall. Guitar Villain didn't seem bothered by it's destruction and kept playing his guitar, trying to hit Anatis with the beam. He jumped over a number of cars to get out of the way of the attack and took out his yoyo, going to throw it at Guitar Villain but before he could, green fire was directed at him. He jumped out of the way and looked up, seeing Fang flying the sky. He opened his mouth again and breathed fire towards Anatis, causing him to run out of the way. Guitar Villain smirked and directed his guitar at Anatis as he tried to dodge Fang's fire, hitting him with the golden beam that pinned him to the wall of a building.

 "Welcome to my fan club, Baby," Guitar Villain chucked as he repeatedly hit him against the wall before letting him fall to the ground. Anatis jumped up and ran as Fang tried to blow a fire at him again. He jumped over a car but he was thrown back by the awesome solo beam. He landed against a lamp post and fell to the ground as Fang flew over and when to breathe fire at him. However, Lady Noir jumped in front of him and redirected the fire with her baton, allowing him to get to his feet. 

 "Annie, you ok?!" She asked as he dusted himself down.

 "Yeah, I'm fine," He replied, glancing up at Fang as it flew around and turned back round. "Glad you turned up when you did. Your baton would work nicely right now,"

 "Sounds like a plan. Give me a step up?" She replied before running towards him. He placed his hands to get, allowing her to step on them before he brought them up, throwing her upwards and towards Fang. She threw her baton as he opened his mouth, trapping it in between his jaws. She grabbed held of it but Fang shook her off, causing her to fall down. She moved her body around and jumped off the side of a building as Fang snapped his jaw, sending her baton flying. She caught it and landed on the ground, glancing around as Guitar Villain jumped on Fang and flew over to them.

 "You're wasting my time!" He declared, glaring at them. "I have a concert to go to,"

 With that, he flew off, making Lady Noir raise an eyebrow before the two heroes jumped up and ran across the roofs to try and catch up with him.

 "So who is the rockstar wannabe?" She asked, causing Anatis to frown.

 "It's Jagged Stone," He replied, making her gasp. "He's calling himself Guitar Villain but I'm not sure why he got akumatized,"

 "Damn, maybe it had something to do with Mr XY," She replied, making him look at her with a questioning look. "Oh, Mr XY gave an interview and basically insulted Jagged. He called him as has-been and Ragged. He then implied that Jagged didn't know real music, stole his catchphrase... you know the whole 'killer' thing and basically dared him to come to his gig, saying he would give him front row tickets in case Jagged couldn't hear because of his age,"

 "Rude," Anatis gasped, looking annoyed. "Jagged is the true musician here and he's not that old!"

 "Are you secretly a Jagged fan?" Lady Noir grinned.

 "That's no secret, Kitten," He grinned as they landed on a building. They could see Fang in the distance as he flew around the Eiffel tower. "Why is it always the Eiffel tower?"

 "No idea," Lady Noir replied, shrugging. "So what's the plan?"

 "Well, his power comes from his guitar," Anatis muttered, glancing up at the dragon. "We've gotta keep him from performing,"

 "Well, let's put a stop to this one man band," Lady Noir grinned before the two of them jumped over to the Eiffel tower and scaled it. They got to the top and climbed over the gate just as Guitar Villain went to hit Théo Barbot with his 'rocking riff' attack. Anatis threw his yoyo and pulled him away before he could be hit. Guitar Villain growled and glared at them as he saw them.

 "You two again!" He huffed, narrowing his eyes. "To the TV studio, Fang,"

 He jumped onto Fang and flew off, making Anatis to frown.

 "He's gonna get there before us," Lady Noir gasped as Anatis took out his yoyo. "We can't let him get to XY,"

 "I'm on it," He replied, dialing a number and holding the yoyo to his ear. "Hello, it's Anatis. Can you put me through to whoever is interviewing XY? Yeah, I'll hold,"

 He rolled his eyes a little, making Lady Noir snort with laughter.

 "Ah, Ms Chamuck, it's Anatis," He stated as Lady Noir turned to Theo and made sure he was ok. "Sorry to interrupt you like this but there is an akuma after Mr XY. He's on his way to the studios now so I need you to evacuate the studio. Me and Lady Noir will be there shortly,"

 He hung up and walked over to Lady Noir.

 "Time to go," He stated, making her nod. "You ok, Mr Barbot?"

 "Y-Yeah, just a little shaken," He replied, standing up. "Thanks for saving me,"

 "No worries," Anatis smiled before the two of heroes jumped down and headed towards the studio. The two landed outside the staff entrance as Alec Cataldi came out with XY. Anatis almost got distracted from the sound of XY's heart song. It was mechanical and boring. He shook his head and walked over before he gently took his arm as Lady Noir kept a look out. "Mr XY, please come with us. We have to get you to safety,"

 "So what's this guitar villain gonna do?" He asked, yanking his arm free from Anatis, making him frown as he moved his hands. "Blow me away with his 'evil' guitar solo?"

 "Yeah," The two heroes replied, making XY roll his eyes. Anatis took a deep breathe as Lady Noir placed her hand on his arm.

 "Once we've catch Guitar Villain, we'll get you to the Eiffel tower just in time for your concert," Lady Noir smiled but XY didn't even look bother. It made Anatis grit his teeth. This guy was getting on his nerve even more with each passing second.

 "Pft, who even cares?" He declared, causing Lady Noir to stare at him in surprise. Both her and Anatis were thinking the same thing. How was this guy even considered a musician? "My roadies can just project my image onto stage. Live concerts were so ten minutes ago,"

 Literally as the words left his mouth, he was suddenly swooped up into Fang's mouth, causing both heroes to blink in surprise before Anatis let out a sigh as they heard XY cry out. Alec ran off seconds later, thinking the dragon come after him.

 "I suppose we better go save him," He mumbled, making Lady Noir pout a little.

 "Do we have?" She asked, making him chuckle. "He's so annoying... live concerts are so ten minutes ago... how lame,"

 "Don't get me started, Kitten," He stated as they jumped up to the rooftops. "It hurts my soul just thinking about it,"

 "Well, you are the embodiment of creativity," She giggled as they jumped across before stopping. "So we're back to step one,"

 "Unfortunately," He replied, stretching. "I say we go and observe since we don't know what he has planned for XY,"

 "Hmm... are you sure this isn't just you punishing Mr XY for his lack of respect to music?" Lady Noir asked, grinning. Anatis gave her a smirk before jumping to another building. The two of them landed on a building opposite the Eiffel and crouched down to observe Guitar Villain and his hostage. Fang was flying around the Eiffel Tower as fans began to arrive. There was already a number of people out there though. It looked like it would be a sell out show, making Anatis roll his eyes a little. He stopped as he noticed a plank of wood been put out on the top of the Eiffel tower. Jagged walked out and played his 'rocking riff', hitting the audience with it. He made a devil horns sign and stuck out his tongue before walking off the plank and grabbed XY, who was tied up and shoved him onto the plank. "What is he doing?"

 "What he does best," Anatis replied, frowning a little as he glanced up. Lady Noir looked at him and rose a brow in a questioning way. "He's putting on a show and I think XY is the main act,"

 "Does this mean we get to go backstage?" Lady Noir grinned, causing Anatis to look at her and smirk back. 

 "Well, we do have VIP passes," He replied, standing up. She jumped to her feet as well. "Let's gate crash this gig,"

 "Rock'n'Riff, baby," She grinned before the two jumped across the roofs again and onto the Eiffel tower. They began to climb the tower as the crowd cheered and yelled. Guitar Villain appeared, standing close to the top of the tower as he watched them.

 "Hello Paris!" He shouted before jumping down and landing on the plank of wood that XY was stood on. He smirked darkly, causing the younger musician to step away from him in fear. "So you said your music is the only killer music around. Is that right?!"

 "I d-didn't mean it!" XY gasped as he continued to back away from Guitar Villain, getting closer to the edge as he did. "Li-listen, Mr G-Guitar... we can... do the duet your style!"

 He screamed as he almost lost his footing. He looked down and gulped as Guitar Villain jumped onto Fang and flew behind him. He tapped the plank of wood, making it wobble. XY whimpered and gasped as Guitar Villain jumped off Fang and smirked at him.

 "Too late," He declared, stalking over to XY. "I'm going to show you what real killer music really sounds like! Ultimate solo!!"

 He began to play his guitar, causing waves of green energy to spread out from his guitar. As soon as they hit XY, they began to make the plank he was stood on bounce up and down in a violent manner, causing the man to whimper in fear. 

 "Stop it! Please!" He gasped as Guitar Villain kept playing. As soon as it came near the heroes, it made them almost loose their footing and when it hit the audience, it knocked a number of them down. Anatis frowned as he held onto the side of the Eiffel tower.

 "XY is gonna fall," Lady Noir gasped as she gripped on part of the tower too. The solo came to a stop, allowing the heroes to be able to let go of the tower. Anatis took out his yoyo as Lady Noir stepped over to him and held onto him. He moved his free hand around her waist and threw his yoyo, grappling them up through the inner part of the tower. However, Fang swooped in and bit the string, causing the two heroes to fall. Lady Noir took out her baton and extended it, trapping inbetween the edges of the tower. She held on it and looked down as Anatis continued to fall. "Anatis!"

 Fang came back around and flew over to him, causing him to throw his yoyo. The dragon snapped it's jaws around it and flew off as Anatis held on, causing Lady Noir to let a sigh of relief. He jumped onto Fang's back and wrapped the yoyo's string around his mouth so he could control him.

 "Easy there, Fang," He stated, causing the dragon to look at him as a little bit of recognition appeared in it's eyes. He smiled as he made on attempt to throw him off. "Good Fang. Let's go. We have a stuck kitty to rescue,"

 He pulled on the string to direct Fang, causing him to fly down and towards Lady Noir. It flew through one of the holes in the tower and underneath Lady Noir, just as she let go. She landed on the dragon and catch her baton before Anatis flew it out of the tower. He pulled the string, getting Fang to turn around and fly back towards it as Lady Noir got up.

 "You ok?" Anatis asked as she held onto his arms and nodded. He glanced over at her before lifting one of his arms. "Step over here and put your arm around my waist. It will be safer for you,"

 "T-Thanks," She blushed a little before moving under his arm and placing her arm around his waist so he was stood behind her. It was a lot easier for her to hold onto him this way. "So the bug tamed the dragon?"

 "Fang's a big softie really, even as a dragon," He grinned as he pulled on the strings again, causing Fang to fly down again. He frowned as he glanced over at Guitar Villain and XY.

 "So how do you like the concert?" Guitar Villain asked, smirking at XY who was shaking in fear. "Still think your music is the only killer music out there?"

 "N-No! Please... do-don't!" XY gasped as a loud crack was heard. Anatis frowned as he looked over, noticing a crack in the plank. It wouldn't take long to break. Guitar Villain went to use his 'awesome solo' move but Anatis pulled the strings again, directing Fang over to him.

 "Not so fast!" He declared, flying Fang over low enough and close enough to cause Guitar Villain to dive out of the way.

 "My dragon!" He gasped as he landed on the floor before he jumped as Anatis turned Fang back around.

 "Anatis! Lady Noir! Hurry!!" XY begged as Lady Noir leaned a little closer to Anatis.

 "Nice job," She smiled before Anatis pulled Fang to the side to avoid Guitar Villain's attack. Lady Noir glanced over and scanned her eyes over Guitar Villain. He didn't seem to have any item on him other then his guitar, which must be where the akuma is. "I think the akuma is in his guitar,"

 "I agree but it's not gonna be easy getting to it," Anatis replied as he moved the strings to dodge the attacks. "I think it's time to go backstage for real!"

 She nodded as he pulled the string and directed Fang towards the tower. They crash straight into it, trapping Fang in the tower and throwing them off him. They landed on the other side of the tower's rafters before they got up.

 "You ok?" Lady Noir asked as Anatis dusted himself down.

 "Yeah, you?" He replied, getting a nod of her before he turned to Fang. "Sorry, Fang,"

 Fang gave him a look before the two of them jumped up through the inside of the tower. Anatis threw his yoyo as they got closer to Guitar Villain and XY and pulled himself onto a platform on the outside of the tower. Lady Noir landed next to him and frowned as Guitar Villain taunted XY.

 "Or is it too awesome for you?" He asked as XY yelled out in fear. Anatis narrowed his eyes as he watched the scene. As much as he didn't like XY or his music, he didn't deserve to be tormented or fall to his death. He took out his yoyo and threw it up in the air.

 "Lucky charm!" He called, causing a can of hair spray to appear out of thin air. He caught it and frowned a little as Lady Noir rose an eyebrow at him. He glanced at it and read the label. "Extreme fixing gel?"

 "I never knew you wanted to be a hairstylist," Lady Noir grinned as Guitar Villain began to play his guitar again. The green wave hit them, making them wobble. Lady Noir gasped and held onto Anatis as he grabbed the side of the tower and looked around in his luck vision. Guitar Villain's hair highlighted, making him smirk. "And here I just thought you were an artist,"

 "What can I say? I'm a jack of all trades," He grinned before flicking his hair. "I even do my own hair. Mind lending me a paw?"

 "I'm on it," She grinned, jumping up and running towards Guitar Villain. She clashed her baton against his guitar and used it to redirect his attack as Anatis climbed up on the tower before narrowing his eyes as he waited for an opening. Guitar Villain managed to get her baton out of her hands, causing it to bounce closer to XY before he directed his 'awesome' solo attack towards her.

 "Cataclysm!" She shouted, holding out her hand to protect herself. The beam hit her hand but began to freak out as soon as it touched her cataclysm, allowing her to jump over Guitar Villain and power slide to her baton. She picked it up and jumped back over to him, trapping him with her baton. Anatis dived down and ran over just as Guitar Villain threw her off and began to play his guitar to attack her, head banging as he did. Anatis shook the can and jumped over him, landing in front of him and spray his hair with the hairspray. Guitar Villain yelled and dropped his guitar, trying to pull his hair out of his face as he stumbled around blindly. Anatis smirked and went to grab the guitar as XY yelled.

 "H-Hey, don't forget about me!" He yelled as the plank cracked and sent him plummeting down. "Help!"

 Anatis threw his yoyo and wrapped it around his leg, causing him to bounce like he was on a bungy jump. Anatis pulled the string, causing XY to fall straight onto the guitar and break it in half. The akuma escaped from it as he took out his yoyo and threw it, catching it. He pulled his yoyo back to him and pressed it, releasing the purified butterfly back into the world before he threw the hairspray can into the air and called out for the cure. It burst into the magical swarm and dashed around Paris, fixing all the damage before it swarmed around the Eiffel tower and finally XY, Guitar Villain, Lady Noir and Anatis, moving them to a safe area on the tower. Guitar Villain fell on his knees and turned back into Jagged as XY gasped. He stood up and looked around confused before he noticed the two heroes.

 "Anatis! Lady Noir! What are you two doing here?" He gasped, excited before he noticed XY. "Oh... wait... you two aren't XY fans are you? I mean I can respect it if you are but I hoped-"

 "What is he doing here?!" XY gasped, cutting Jagged off as Anatis sighed. Lady Noir leaned over to him.

 "I don't think he remembers," She whispered in his ear as he nodded before he turned to XY.

 "He came to tell you that you completely underestimated the power of his music," He explained, causing XY to look like a fish as he gaped at them,

 "This guy is crazy!" He gasped, pointing to him as Jagged dusted himself down. He placed his hands on his hips and turned his head towards XY, smiling a little. "He's insane!"

 "Thank you," He replied, making Anatis roll his eyes in a playful manner as Lady Noir grinned before she gasped with widen eyes.

 "Oh no! I have to go!!" She gasped, causing the three guys to raise an eyebrow at her. "I have a deadline!"

 She ran towards the edge and jumped off it before bouncing through the city. Anatis shook his head and turned to Jagged as he placed his hand on Anatis' shoulder.

 "That's one funny feline," He grinned, causing Anatis to groan and face palm.

 ~Next Day~

 Marinette took a deep breathe as she rode the lift up to Jagged's room. She was feeling super nervous but she couldn't tell if it was because she was about to present her art work to Jagged or because she had a date with Luka later. Well, kind of date. She wasn't sure if it was a date but she wanted it to be. However, she was still sure he only liked her as a friend but she did like him a lot. However, she also liked Anatis a lot and she knew Anatis liked her. She went bright red as she remembered him saying that he liked her but then frowned as she remembered he had to reject her. She shook her head and took another deep breathe, vowing to enjoy her time with Luka regardless of if it was a date or not. There was nothing wrong with taking things slow and hanging out as friends. Besides, she was still moving on from Adrien. It wouldn't be fair to Luka to try and date him when she was a hundred percent over her crush on Adrien. She was getting there though. The door pinged, making her gasp before she stepped out and walked over to the door. She knocked on it and smiled as Penny opened it a few minutes later. 

 "Hello Marinette," She smiled, letting her in. Marinette gulped and followed her as she noticed Jagged sat on the sofa next to Fang as Bob Roth paced up and down the room. She also noticed that Luka wasn't hanging out here today but she shouldn't be surprised. He was still getting to know the rockstar after all. She couldn't expect him to be here every time. Her phone vibrated, causing her to take it out and look at it.

 L: Good luck, Melody. You've got this x

 She couldn't help but smile as she felt more confident. She put her phone away and turned to the rockstar. Bob Roth walked over and stood next to her as she handed the cover to Jagged. He leaned over and took it off her before leaning back and looking at it. Marinette nervously bit her lip as he studied it before a huge smile came across his face.

 "Oh yeah, this is it," Jagged grinned as he held it before he looked over at Marinette. "You did it, girl. I can almost smell the leather and sweat just radiating off this design,"

 He held it up to his nose and sniffed it as Marinette walked over to reveal the secret she hid in it.

 "You actually are smelling it," She explained nervously as Jagged looked at her. She pointed to a sticker on the design. "I concocted a special scented sticker for your album,"

 "I want it! I gotta have it!" He declared, gripping the album in his hands. "It's authentic! It's original! It's... so Jagged!"

 He brought it to his face and stroked it a little as Marinette smiled. However, Bob Roth did not seem impressed at all.

 "No, you can't!" He declared, making Marinette frown. "It's not what the public wa-"

 "Fine then I'm out of here," Jagged declared, glaring at him. "I'm sure another record company would be perfectly happy with a number 2 chart topper,"

 Bob growled as Marinette handed him back the XY album, causing him to snatch it and storm off. She smiled and turned to Jagged, who was patting Fang's head. He looked up and smiled at her.

 "Great job as usual, Marinette," He grinned, making her smile "We'll send you a payment soon. Your details are still the same yeah?"

 "Um yeah," She gasped, not expect to be paid but happy that she was. Penny gave her a smile and led her to the door, thanking her for doing the design. Marinette smiled and left the hotel room before getting into the lift. As soon as the door closed, she jumped up and down as Plagg flew out of her purse. "I can't believe it! I just designed Jagged Stone's new album!!"

 "I'm only gonna say this once so don't expect me to repeat it," Plagg replied, making her look at him as he looked to the side a little embarrassed. "I'm proud of you, Marinette,"

 "Aww, thank you Plagg," She grinned, gently cupping him in her hands and kissing his head. He smiled as the lift came to a stop and flew back into her purse as Marinette took out her phone and texted Luka before smiling to herself. Today was a good day.

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

Next Chapter: Chapter 50

[mihidecet]

Sbi&CO d&d AU: Don’t Keep me Waiting (2/?)

I’m back! Chapter two is finally here and, as promised, it’s a bit of a beefy one!! I do hope you’ll like it!

A special shoutout to Cassie and my sister, for basically creating the newly added character, and that anon who totally didn’t guess who was coming a week before I posted the chapter xD

The noise inside the tavern hits them like a tidal wave the instant they open the heavy looking oak doors: a cacophony of people talking, friends cheering, music playing and orders being shouted from one side of the room to the other. 

On one hand, it makes Wilbur flinch and recoil, his ears ringing with the sudden switch from being in the quietness of a mostly desert street to this; the good thing is nobody really pays any particular attention to their group entering. They do of course gather some looks and stares - they're a big group after all, most people here are either in small, four-people groups or even smaller. 

But Techno's trademark pink hair is safely hidden under a hood, in order to allow him to walk around without getting constant stares - respectful, fearful or otherwise. They're here to have fun, not pick fights; at least that is what they had decided on before signing up for the tournament. Except for Tommy: to quote the little demon, they were there to win.

Nevertheless. 

Wilbur is there, at that moment, in that tavern, to play and to share his music with a willing audience. So, while most of the others hurry to grab a big enough table and some extra chairs, Wilbur makes his way towards the innkeeper's desk, tail swinging back and forth, mind already running with ideas on what to play for this specific audience - adventurers are a picky sort, they either like your song or they boo you out of the tavern, and he wants to give a good impression especially with the tournament coming up-

The innkeeper sees him and Phil approaching, his eyes darting to his brand new splendidly hand carved guitar - he will never ever ever be able to repay Tubbo - before he lets out a tired sigh. Which comes crashing down onto Wil's mood like an avalanche, covering instantly all his bright ideas and expectations. 

It's Phil's hand on the small of his back that brings him back into focus, prompting him to regain the sway in his step - no time to mope, they're here for at least another month.

"I don't suppose you have a spot open for tonight?" He asks, putting on his best vendor voice, and he can see the tiredness in the eyes of the person in front of him. 

"I do not. You can have half an hour in two days. Name?" The person asks, voice flat with the face of somebody who's had to repeat this process so many times just tonight. So Wilbur swallows down his protest - half an hour in two days is a horrible deal - and nods amicably. 

"Wilbur, Wilbur Soot." The innkeeper looks to be thinking intensely for a moment - a spark of hope shines in his chest as he hopes for a moment that his name will be recognised, since he's spent the past years building up his fame by working tirelessly -, then they shake their head and write down something that vaguely resembles his name next to some numbers. Wilbur smothers the irrational, embarrassing disappointment that threatens to rise in his throat.

"You have my thanks, good sir!" He adds enthusiastically, voice pitched a bit too higher than normal, because a part of him feels for the poor soul who has to deal with people of all sorts, and swivels on his feet.

Phil's hand on his shoulder brings him out of his own mind as he's definitely not storming away from the poor innkeeper's table. He doesn't even need to say anything: Wil deflates instantly, tense shoulders sagging instantly and a long sigh leaving him as he leans into the elf. 

"I really wanted to play." Wilbur grumbles as Phil's hand moves from one shoulder to the other, effectively bringing him into a half-hug and ruffling his hair with a chuckle. 

"I know, and you're going to." The elf replies, tone calm and reassuring, and Wil can't help but ache a little, feeling like a kid all over again and not liking it even a little bit. Once, he would have stayed quiet and stewed into his own brooding mood, but he knows now that he can rely on the others for situations like these. So he ignores how awkward he feels at protesting for something as silly as this, and lets himself pout. 

"Half an hour is so little, though. And since we're not taking any jobs for a while it could help with paying for the tavern." Phil quietly hums in response and experience tells him that he's pondering over a good answer. Wil's eyes scan the tavern - bigger than he first realised - looking for Tubbo's bee, as he figures it's going to be the easiest thing to recognise in the literal sea of adventures of all kinds.

"You know we don't need it. And I'm sure once they hear how good you are, they'll be asking you to play every night." Phil comments, starting to guide him towards what he thinks is the right direction, but Wil is a bit more preoccupied with preening, slightly flustered, due to the compliment. One would expect him to be used to them, but the thing with his friends is that praises from them always feel a little more true, a little more honest, and they always hit him in the best way possible. 

When they join the rest of the team - clustered around a single medium sized table - Wil's mood has significantly improved. 

There's food already waiting for him and as soon as he sits down a fox jumps in his lap and curls up, snout raised towards him to slowly blink at him before he buries his head in his tail. 

Wilbur starts digging into his meal with gusto, lightly scratching behind Fundy's ear as the shifter decides to take a nap.

The tavern is, overall, a nice place. It's cool to see so many adventurers gathered together, and hearthwarming to be able to see many new friendships blossoming. 

After the team announcements that same morning, there are some people that have found themselves needing to look for strangers basing themselves only on names - or worse, nicknames. 

Wilbur figures that the people that are in the best position to find their teammates are those who have been paired with bards, as there have been half a dozen different people performing ever since they sat down to eat. 

Luckily for him, his own team has no such problems. Tubbo, Niki and Fundy, on the other hand, are still waiting to learn who their fourth is going to be. Since the training grounds will soon be open for team practices, starting from the next morning in fact, they plan on looking for them there. 

Tymora, or Lady Luck, has apparently other plans for them.

It's nearing midnight when a short man with only one eye and a thick Draconic accent walks up the stage for what seems like the hundredth time that night. In his hand, the same piece of paper that has been progressively getting more and more ragged as the evening went on. He unfolds it as he walks up, thanking the tired looking bard that is leaving the stage, and it rips in half - his only reaction is a sigh and a shrug.

He squints, putting together the parchment and pursing his lips as the two ripped halves slowly mold back together, then calls out, somehow magically raising his voice over the sound of the tavern's clients talking and clapping for the leaving bard.

"Next up: Quackity! Come up the stage!"

Fundy's fox claws suddenly dig into Wilbur's legs, making him wince in pain and choke on his sip of mead. A split second later, he's got a lap full of disgruntled mage. 

Tubbo, on the other side of the table, is standing on his chair in order to see the stage over a firbolg's shoulders - holding himself up by using Tommy's head, who is extremely unwilling. 

"A bard?!" Fundy exclaims, prompting Wilbur to move his eyes from the stage towards him with a frown.

"What's wrong with bards?!" He asks, helping him get off of him and into his abandoned chair. Before Fundy can find a way to put his rebuttal into coherent words, Wilbur's eyes snap back toward the stage as people are starting to give a quiet, tentative clap for the newcomer.

The kid looks human, probably about Niki's age, and he sits down a bit awkwardly on the stool he brought with himself before plucking a couple of strings on his guitar. They're sitting quite far from the stage, but Wilbur's trained eye still manages to catch the fact that that is an old and well used one - his heart squeezes just a bit at the thought of his former source pride and joy, the guitar he travelled with ever since he left home.

Wilbur knows, viscerally, of the fear that always precedes a performance, especially in front of a new crowd. Especially in front of adventures, whose tastes are ever changing and easy to sway from the crowd's perspective: adventurers either like you, or they don't, and if they don't you're not gonna have a good time.

And yet. 

After checking his guitar, the kid looks up with a bright smile and a confident expression and starts playing - no buildup, no further introduction, no boisterous announcements of his titles or fame. 

And by the gods does he play. 

He's good, but he's not just technically good: he's an entertainer, plays with his guitar as much as he plays with words and with the crowd - clearly making up verses for his songs to fit what happens around him, bantering with the adventurers that step up to his plays of words. Sometimes he bursts out laughing mid verse and despite that his fingers never stop flying over the cords, his laughter becoming part of the song itself. 

Halfway through, he catches Techno's eyes: the shifter raises an eyebrow and Wil simply nods, so Techno nods back

The tiefling is glad to know that they both think he's good, they had been worried about leaving the three newest additions to their team alone with a random stranger. 

And if the enthusiastic way the rest of the team is clapping for him, they're going to get along more than well.

Half an hour later a flushed and visibility sweaty Quackity makes his way down the stage, followed by a thunderous applause and some occasional claps on the back; one passing adventurer even thrusts a pint of ale into his hands, prompting what looks to be a flustered reaction from the bard as he quickly makes his way out of the tavern. 

Either that or he needed some air, which was completely understandable, especially after such an active performance. 

Wilbur is about to comment on the stellar introduction they just received when the sudden noise of hands slamming onto the table - their table - makes him jump in his skin.

"We have to go and say hi!" Declares Tubbo, still standing on the chair - now with Niki helping him not fall to the ground. 

Tommy nods enthusiastically next to him and even Fundy seems to be about to agree. To be quite honest, Wilbur wants to join in too and is therefore about to stand up when Phil raises his hands to get them to slow down. 

"You're gonna scare him if you all corner him outside. How about his three teammates go, on their best behaviour?" The elf concludes, shooting Fundy a pointed look. 

The shifter gapes, looking extremely insulted, then he starts to protest and finally he sighs with a pout. Ah, the wonders of people arguing with Phil. 

"Alright, no pranks and no scamming. Pinky promise." Fundy huffs out, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching down into his chair. Wilbur does his best to chuckle under his breath, because he's not any better, he's just not the target of the reprimand for this time. 

Then, Phil's stare turns to his left. 

"You too, Tubbo. No scams." He states, prompting Tubbo to almost fall over as he agitatedly protests, spluttering out indignantly.

Exiting into the coldness of the night is almost a shock, especially when compared to the almost too warm air inside the tavern.

The sounds coming from inside are almost completely silenced, and when they close the doors behind them the stillness of the night is all they can hear. Fundy shudders for a moment, his body struggling to adapt to the lack of heat, when his instinctive reaction would normally be to morph back into his fox form. He snaps his fingers together, conjuring a small flame in his hands to keep himself warm, and sees Tubbo moving closer to him before he remembers that ah, right, the kid can't see in the dark. 

Still, it's not hard to find their objective - their future friend, as he's already been dubbed by Tubbo. Quackity is leaning on the outside wall, right next to an illuminated window, pint abandoned on his side as he looks at the night sky, one foot tapping on the ground as if following a silent melody. 

In the beginning, the plan had involved Niki leading the way, so that she could introduce the three of them and they could all make arrangements to meet the next morning at the training fields, so that they could all be friends and hang out and win the tournament. 

Said plan is instantly scrapped the instant Tubbo lets out a small gasp, eyes going wide as he hurries to duck around Niki, swiftly avoiding Fundy’s hand reaching out to grab at his shirt. The young human scrambles to reach the sitting bard, who naturally flinches and stares in confusion at the kid running towards him. 

As Tubbo finally gets close, he stops and points at Quackity’s head.

"Hi! You have a moth on your head." 

Fundy’s groan is so loud, it reaches the two of them even though he is currently a couple of steps behind and hiding his face in his hands. Niki’s high pitched giggles follow suit, and are soon joined by a shocked burst of laughter - loud, bright, just like his music - from the human sitting in front of Tubbo. 

"I- Hi! I do?" Quackity asks, voice tilting upwards as he looks up, as if he could be able to see his own head by rolling his eyes into his skull. 

Tubbo giggles seeing him go cross-eyed, and reaches up to gently take the moth in his hand. The little bug’s wings flutter a little as he is moved, apparently not glad to be disturbed from his perch, but he seems to begrudgingly accept his new spot since Tubbo holds him close to the light coming from the tavern’s window. His wings are very pretty, a light grey with black streaks into them that look like the splatters of ink that cover the pages of Tubbo’s various notebooks - his ever growing collection of plans and schematics for new and old projects. According to Tubbo's admittedly limited experience with moths, this one is smaller than one would expect. Very tiny and friendly - "just like you!" Wilbur would probably say if he were there. 

"Aw, look at him! Isn't he cute?" Tubbo coos at his new friend, prompting a slightly awkward chuckle from Quackity as the man moves just slightly away from the insect.

"I'm not a fan of bugs, but, uh- he does look fancy." Q eyes nervously the other two, but Tubbo ignores it, too taken with his new little pal to take care of trivial things like introductions. Niki just smiles warmly and opens her mouth to do so - possibly to also reassure the poor human - , but Tubbo is already speaking again.

"My friend can speak to bugs! He said moths always think of food and light." Quackity is once again seemingly stunned, stuck between the awkwardness of not knowing who the people surrounding him are and the confusion regarding the topic of discussion. He blinks, shooting a look towards the bug in Tubbo's hand before quickly looking away with a light grimace, choosing to focus on Tubbo himself.

"Well, little buddy better not get hurt trying to reach a flame!" Q jokes, letting out a small chuckle. Tubbo's face turns from awed to serious in a split second, his other hand moving to cup around the moth.

"That won't happen, I'll protect him!" He answers determinately, nodding solemnly towards Quackity, who can only gape for a moment before bursting out laughing again, shaking his head a little. 

"So, uh … Is there a reason why you've cornered me, or are you just fans?" He asks after a moment, once his chuckles have died down, turning a raised eyebrow towards Fundy and Niki, still standing a bit awkwardly behind Tubbo. 

"Oh, we are your teammates! We recognised your name and figured we should say hi." Niki explains with a smile, moving to crouch next to Tubbo so that the young human can move the moth closer to her.

"You- oh! Oh! -" Quackity exclaims, eyes widening and suddenly looking at them with less confusion "-That's good to know, what a coincidence!" He comments, chuckling to himself as he wipes a hand over his face, grimacing at the dampness that comes away with it - he really needs to wash up.

"And yet! The gods smile upon us." Niki says with a smile, watching as the moth flutters his wings to move from Tubbo's hand to hers.

Nobody seems to notice the unimpressed look that Quackity shoots towards the night sky, but Tubbo's eyes snap towards him the instant he lets out a deep sigh.

"I guess so. Anyhow. I'm going to pass out on my bed, I'll see you tomorrow morning?" The human asks, tone a sweet mixture of enthusiastic, hopeful and exhausted as he moves away from the wall - his guitar in one hand and the untouched mug of ale in the other. 

Tubbo nods enthusiastically, grinning widely at him; next to him, Niki smiles kindly, while Fundy goes for a much more noncommittal nod of his head.

Quackity's eyes linger on the three of them for just a moment more, as if trying to figure something out, then he nods to himself and raises the mug to mimic a toast in their honour, opening the door to the inside of the tavern.

"Don't keep me waiting!"

[fanfoolishness]

All right! Off to liveblog Chapter 9, The Marshal!

Ah yes, recap. “Traveling for me, that’s no life for a kid.”

Except searching and searching for a Jedi takes time. Except Din and the kid fall into routines and habits and sweet little moments throughout the day. Except Din dreams sometimes, in the dark of deep space, that there are no Jedi... that the kid will always need him, and he wakes from these dreams feeling both grateful and guilty

Moff Gideon totally killed those poor Jawas, didn’t he.

What would it be like to be a Jawa, to find joys in scrap and metal, to dream of Egg???

To scavenge, perchance to dream....

I LOVE LOVE LOVE all the graffiti art for this scene

Also, Grogu’s pram absolutely got scorched in the flame trooper’s assault and Din didn’t go back for it or anything. Yet they’re using the one Kuiil made? This bothers me and it’s so petty.

3PO made it into the graffiti <3

Grogu is a budding art critic, change my mind

Gor Koresh, such a dick. But I love the music being so reminiscent of Jabba’s palace! Ludwig Goransson, you’ve done it again

I wonder if Grogu gets overwhelmed picking up Force vibrations in crowds? Is that a thing? Or does he mostly just get senses from other Force-sensitives?

Wherever I go, he goes. BECAUSE HE’S YOUR SON DINGUS

I can’t believe how adorable Din is, going on to total creepos about the fact that he has Been Quested

It just speaks to a very sweet earnestness on his part

“Put up your armor for the info” and Din: swivels his head like woah

What is Gor Koresh going to DO with the beskar anyway? He’s not even wearing any???? What a prick

He absolutely deserves everything coming to him

But Din even gives him a chance! What an idiot

Kick... BABY! (Anyone else ever play Peasant’s Quest on Homestar Runner???)

I always forget about the whipcord. How do I always forget about the whipcord?

Ooh Mando has a very homey cape this scene, I like

I’m glad he’s leaving this guy to be devoured by monster dogs, he’s gotta protect any other Mandalorians that may run across him

Does Razor Crest strike anyone else as a rather feminine ship? It reminds me of a sea cow. She’s got a belly on her.

PELI MOTTO MY QUEEN

She’s sooooo happy to see Grogu and he’s delighted to see her too and they’re all just so happy together

“I’m here on business.” Does that mean that they sometimes hang out not on business? Oh, what the hell, I’ve already written the fic.

Peli doesn’t dare leave the city walls. But maybe she will again someday? Sit a little in the desert, feel the suns on her face, the wind in her hair?

Is this R2-D5? Like, THAT R2-D5 that the Jawas nearly sold Luke?

The speeder bike has rusted. This lends more credence to my theory that Din and Grogu got to have a good amount of time together!

Grogu LOOOOOVES SPEED

Boy’s gonna be a pilot some day

I just... love... all of Din’s visits with the Sand People so much

Siiiiigh I love all speeder music in this series so much. Again, Ludwig Goransson, YOUR BRAIN

Just imagine being a little kid riding in the speeder with your dad, knowing he’s gonna take care of anything scary, and you get to go fast and see everything and feel the wind and it’s so delightful and you feel so safe even though you’re going 200km an hour <3

Hmm so a whole night fell on the way to Mos Pelgo. I just love watching episodes and looking for pockets of time that I can exploit with fic :)

Just imagine a Tusken calling him out and signing the word for “your son” and Din just having to go with it.

I always forget there is a little notch under the ear piece thing of his helmet. I’ve been drawing the damn thing for 2 months and still don’t have it down.

Short!cape version, activate!

Fake Boba Fett: *arrives*

Did he seriously have spurs back in the day? God I need to rewatch the original trilogy, don’t I?

Din watching Vanth order spotchka and being confused as hell, like “you know we’re not going to drink that in front of anyone, right???”

The body language in this scene is so good. The way Din stops, mid-step, and freezes. Then breathes, heavily, frozen in place. Ready to fight. Pissed as HELL. Take. It. Off.

Oh Din. “He’s seen worse” is not exactly a ringing endorsement for your ability to keep him out of trouble, lol.

Just imagine Grogu curiously feeling the vibrations of the krayt dragon and thinking he’s never felt anything so BIG in the Force before

I always forget what the name is the for the liquefaction of soil during a severe earthquake.... *doublechecks* goddamn it it’s just “soil liquefaction”

Doodle idea: Din having to clean tobacco spit off Grogu’s clothes from the spittoon

Awww Din’s speeder is so tiny next to Cobb’s pod racer engine speeder

Cobb Vanth: *runs away, steals ice cream, I MEAN A CAMTONO*

Yeeeeah running into the desert was maybe not the best way to survive in most cases

Luckily Jawas on Tatooine are honest and want to trade instead of steal his shit

I’m excited to see how shit goes down in the Book of Boba Fett! Do we get to see the Sarlacc escape on screen, FINALLY?

Weequay bartender: “But who WAS that masked man??”

Pew

God I miss the amban rifle so much!

It’s such a weird and sexy weapon

Do the dog things have a name? Tusken snarlies?

Every time Din speaks Tusken I die a little bit because I love it so

Awwwww he’s brushing the bantha’s teeth!!! It’s just very sweet to see

Grogu: ‘plz to not be eating me”

Din: *so fucking impatient about this guy not drinking a fucking gourd*

Grogu: *yay I love it when dad shoots fire!*

I love the sign for “kill it”

I also love how done Din is with petty squabbles, like, at all times

He just has no chill. Just “stop your whining, dammit.”

Grogu: “my dad is so smart”. He’s hanging on to every word Din says

Grogu: *watches dragon* DO NOT WANT

I love it when Din gets sassy. “They might be open to some fresh ideas.”

“It’s to scale.” *cackling*

Din volunteering the village is very yes. I also love when he is just absurdly old-fashioned. “Dragon will kill you if it takes its fancy, yadda yadda”

More energy thoughts from Grogu — everyone focused, tense, worried but Grogu isn’t sure why

A bantha is essentially a ground Appa and my husband votes to rename them a Grappa

Sand People always ride single file, to hide their numbers

Ooooh is this the same “the village rises up to defend itself” motif as when the Sorganites were training with Din and Cara?

It sounds very similar, but I could be making this up entirely

This episode was so fun on first watch but it doesn’t have a ton of emotional heft. I still like it, because I love all of them, but it’s definitely not as ripe for expansion of content as some of the others. Except, of course, to the Din/Cobb shippers, who said “hold my beer” and went off. Have fun, you crazy kids.

Run Sand People run!!!!

Seriously though Star Wars suffers from a serious case of the ecology never making any sense. What do banthas eat???? There’s gotta be SOMETHING for them to eat!

Krayt dragon: LOLOLOLOLOLOL

Mando tiiiiime but imagine Din glancing over to Cobb and for a second forgetting and being glad to fight alongside another Mandalorian but then he isn’t

Also there’s definitely room in this episode to write some cute little camp out scenes with Din and Grogu, awwww

Farewell to Mos Pelgo!

[stutterfly]

Love Bytes 07 | User Privileges | KNJ (M)

Last time on Love Bytes 06: Seokjin gives you an earful before you spend a peaceful evening with Namjoon. You try to convince yourself whatever is happening between you is nothing to think twice about, but you have to reconsider when morning comes. Luckily you’re able to focus your energy on the new matches on your dating app... Or so you think.

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 12K

Series: Love Bytes (7/?)

Genre: F2L, fluff, humor, SLOW BURN, friendship feels, ANGST! pining, sexual tension, smut, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, IT/Nerd!Reader

CW: anxiety, sexual tension, angst, pining, sexual thoughts, language, sexting, grinding, panic attacks (mentioned), reader gets gaslighted, negged, and bullied like this is the 6th grade (verbal abuse by a side character/anatagonist), reader gets dubcon groped (not any of our perfect boys; them and Jennie swing into action), brief homophobic comment by an antagonist, fuckboy Jungkook showing his soft side (s/o to Swipe Right Jungkook; believe in him), alcohol use/mention, best friend Hobi, bestie Jennie, BFFLs to the rescue, protective/jealous Namjoon, soft Namjoon feels, Namjoon about to whoop some jerk’s ass, reader is a Dumb Bitch™ about her feelings and toxic relationship warning signs

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7 masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

Do not repost.

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You haven’t been able to put down your phone all day. An onslaught of “Super Likes” has you playing the foreign role of an extrovert, acting as peppy as possible to present your “best self” to your potential suitors. By the time your battery percentage is down to single digits, you’re feeling just as drained. You fumble with the charging port near the head of the couch, cheek squishing against the armrest. It’s hard to find the energy to rise. Why is trying to get laid so much work? Jennie made it sound way easier. Keeping your eyes open becomes more of a struggle than it’s worth. No amount of socializing feels as rewarding as letting yourself drift off.

You don’t mean to sleep through several group texts and phone calls, but your phone’s reverberations fall near silent against the back cushion. You might sleep through the night if not for a loud series of loud, familiar knocks on your door.

‘Knock--knock-knock--knock--knock.’

You groan into the air, “Whaaaaaat?”

“Open the dooooor.” Even muffled behind the thick wood, you recognize Hoseok’s nasally whine.

Still half-asleep, you shuffle towards the sound. The deadbolt clicks against the light pressure of your fingertips and yields the shining face of your friend. His grin practically reflects the light of the hall and amplifies its shine. It's almost sickening.

"What, were you sleeping?” He frowns narrowing his eyes at you as he scrutinizes every last detail set in your features. “Were you crying? You’re not still upset about your terrible date, are you?”

You smack his hand away as he fusses with the rat’s nest that is your hair. “No, I’m fine. I’m just exhausted from socializing on Tinder all morning.” You yawn, reaching for your phone. “What time is it anyway?”

“You sound like Yoongi,” he laughs, drawing the curtain across the room to let in some natural light. “Don’t worry. You didn’t sleep through the night. It’s almost two.”

“Oh good, it’s only been a couple hours.” You wince as the room brightens, holding back an annoyed hiss. Soft rain patters against the leaves on the tree outside of your window. Maybe the weather is finally letting up and you can see some real sunshine again sometime soon.

“I just wanted to check in. I know you’re too polite for your own good sometimes.”

You miss the concern in his face as you scan the latest batch of matches that have messaged you since your power nap. There was a guy asking if you wanted to meet for lunch, but you missed the window. He seemed pretty nice so you want to apologize as fast as possible so you don’t seem like a total bitch.

When you don’t even acknowledge Hoseok’s words, his face hardens. “...But not all the time, apparently.”

You look up from the keyboard on your phone, halfway through constructing an apology. Sensing his annoyance at your manners, you turn off the screen and offer a guilty smile.

“I’m sorry, Hobi. Jennie and Tae sent me the photos this morning and--”

His countenance changes in an instant, dropping his pout and grinning like a maniac as he sprints across the room. “What? Really? Let me see!”

He hip checks you into the couch and you both fall to the cushions with a graceless flop. You know you could convince him to drop it if you really wanted to, but a part of you is really enjoying the positive reactions from your matches and the attention is doing wonders for your self-esteem. What’s one more person inflating your ego?

“Oh, just one sec. I want to apologize for ghosting this dude.”

“You ghosted someone?” Hoseok shakes his head in disbelief, throwing his arm around you. “I’m so proud! Did he deserve it? Was it the guy at the coffee shop?”

You snort, fingers tapping your keyboard thoughtfully. “No. There’s this guy I was talking to earlier. He asked me to lunch right after I fell asleep.”

He furrows his brow at you. “I’m not really sure that’s ghosting if you planned on responding.”

Your fingers stop tapping the keyboard and you look up at him. “Oh. Well. I definitely ghosted the coffee guy. Just unmatched and deleted his number.”

“Attagirl.” He grins, playfully nudging his knuckles into your jaw. “So what’s this guy’s name?”

“Mmm. Don’t want to tell you, in case it doesn’t go anywhere,” you mumble, backing out of the conversation.

Hoseok glances down at your screen and raises his eyebrows when he notes all of the conversations you have going simultaneously. “Wow! Someone’s popular.”

“I didn’t expect such a big change once I got the photos. I hate to admit it, but you guys were actually right for once.”

His eyes widen. “Hmm? Say that one more time? Hold on!” He pulls out his phone like he’s going to record the statement and then laughs. “I’m glad you finally see my wisdom. Now gimme.”

He flexes his fingers a few times to make grabby hands at your phone. You navigate to your profile and allow him to peruse at his leisure, nervously micro-analysing his blatant facial expressions. You’re mostly getting a shocked and excited vibe, laced with a hint of pride as he keep repeating “wow” at each new image. Just as he’s moving on to the bikini photo, your cleavage is obscured by a new message.

“Jihoon? Is that your lunch guy?”

“What? He responded? I’ve been cussed out for ignoring a dude for five minutes. They’re usually not so understanding in my experience.”

“Yikes, is that what it’s like for girls?” Hoseok shivers. “On behalf of all men, let me apologize to you.”

“You’re absolved of your guilt for waking me up,” you joke, prodding his side with your finger and giggling when he wiggles away from your touch. “What did he say?”

“He says he still wants to grab a bite with you, if you’re up for it. Ooh he called it a wake up snack with a winky face!” he teases, already bringing up the keyboard to respond for you. “What should we say back? Let’s see… I’m not hungry, but I’ve got a snack for you if you wanna come get it…. Winky-- Hey!”

You snatch the phone back from him, smacking him lightly in the chest. “I’ll figure out something a little less eager, thanks.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself. I think you should go though.” He’s already removed the scrunchie from your hair and is brushing it with his fingers to retie it. “Nothing like a rebound to get your mind off of things.

“I’m not having sex with him,” you mumble, sending off your response to Jihoon.

“Oh, by the way, we’re meeting up at Seesaw later. You can use that as your out.”

“You gonna buy me drinks this week too?” you ask sweetly, puckering your lips at him.

He scoffs. “Pfft. At Yoongi’s bar? Yoongi’s buying. Now, go put on some clothes that don’t look like you wore them to bed with someone else.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A points system is something Hobi helped you come up with. You meet up for a snack at a bar and have one drink with him, telling him ahead of time you have dinner plans with friends so he gets the idea right away that your time is valuable. He starts with 100 and you can deduct based on gross mannerisms or behavior.

That way he starts in the positive and only falls to the negative if things go poorly. If he loses enough points, you can end the date by saying you have to get ready because you’re someone’s ride--which is technically true since Namjoon refuses to get his license and you've naturally taken to being his chauffeur.

Now that you're treating dating like a game, it seems like a piece of cake. You can just throw if you've been matched with a shitty teammate. This time you're expecting it. No way are you going to get trapped for 2 hours talking to some dude who doesn't give two fucks about who you are. You’ll probably be back home in no time, eating some of that ice cream still in your freezer and pretending to be interested in some other guy's messages. That's what dating is, right? It's fine. It's a good plan.

You can tell Hoseok and Jin that you made an attempt, are too tired to go out, get drunk alone in your apartment, have a good cry over some self indulgent romantic drama, and pass out with your vibrator cupped in one hand. It definitely sounds like the night of a well adjusted adult with healthy coping mechanisms for rejection, loneliness, and anxiety. It's in your nature to turtle when you feel so shitty about yourself, and your friends know it. You're just hoping they'll accept your excuse of fatigue as a simple fact rather than a disguise for your unhappiness.

There's just one little hiccup you've run into with this foolproof plan. The guy who agreed to meet you for a single drink isn't the one you'd been talking to all morning. He's funnier, twice as handsome, and at least three times more suave than his online persona. Deducting points from someone so charming is proving to be difficult, even after downing a second rum and coke in your haste to work off the genuine butterflies fluttering in your belly.

You can’t get your hopes up. You tell yourself this and yet your brain is ignoring that mantra in favor of bashing you over the head with feelings of excitement, especially when he drops his hand beside yours on the bar. He gently brushes his pinky against the back of yours as he laughs. Suddenly you don’t want this date to end. The smallest touch sets your nerves alight and you’re craving more.

Do you dare to pull out your phone to check the time? Is it rude? You don’t want him thinking you’re not having a good time, but you promised Hoseok that you’d keep it short. It’s a risk you have to take. Pulling the mobile device from your pocket, you try to casually bump the power button to check the time. You bite your lip, realizing you’ve already gone ten minutes past the time you’d decided to end it.

“You sure you can’t stay for another? I’m buying.” The man beside you smiles and playfully bumps his shoulder against yours as his fingers finally curl around yours on the bar. Your gaze is fixed on the motion of his thumb caressing yours.

The breath catches in your throat and you stutter out a flustered laugh. Shy eyes peek up from beneath fallen strands of hair, trying to decide if this is actually happening or if someone is playing a cruel joke on you. His lips part into an amused grin as he tucks the strand behind your ear. His fingers are warm as they lightly trail along the side of your face and instinctively you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

“Mmm,” you hum, losing yourself in the simple sensation of fingertips brushing against your cheek. The comfort the motion brings reminds you of someone else, someone you’ve been feeling incredibly confused about as of late. Panic settles in your belly as you almost say his name. “Na--” you catch yourself and clear your throat.

Trying not to draw attention to your mind’s slip-up, your eyes pop open and settle on the bar as you slink away, nearly falling from the stool as you collect your purse.“N-Nah. I, um, have plans. But, um...”

He curiously cocks his head at you. “Are you okay to drive, lightweight? I can call you a Lyft.”

A nervous laugh passes your lips as you twirl your fingers around the metal ring that houses your keys. “I’ll be okay. Thank you! I’m just! Really clumsy. Sorry. Th-this was nice though. Can we--Can we do this again?”

Shit. Way to sound desperate.

Much to your surprise, Jihoon offers a dimpled smile with a raise of his phone. “Hit me up again, beautiful. Any time. I'll tell them to go easy on the rum next time."

You hesitate on moving in to kiss his cheek and instead decide to nod and spin on your heels, nearly missing the waitress balancing a platter full of food beside you. Adrenaline rushes through you on the walk back to your car, a soft rain dampening your clothes and speckling the screen of your phone as you check your messages.

Hobi: how’s it going?

Hobi: you’ve gone over time Dirty Girl

Hobi: 😂

Hobi: tell me ur alive?

As you settle into the driver’s seat, you fingers are already working to craft a response that might reveal everything that you’re feeling, but nothing you try to say seems to do any justice to it.

You: I survived. SS? :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Hoseok leans back in his chair, taking in everything you’ve told him with a big grin as he picks at the nachos on the table. “So he didn’t try to kiss you?”

You wrack your brain, which is starting to fill with the haze of alcohol. "No. He held my hand for like half a sec though.”

He snorts, crunching down on a chip. “Risqué. Who would have thought you could be so naughty?”

You roll your eyes, debating on whether or not you should admit why you were able to end the things when you did. You scan the plate of nachos and your jaw tightens, shifting from left to right as you try to reason that you hadn't been thinking of someone else while on your date.

"I mean he might have tried to kiss me if I didn't end things so abruptly," you contemplate aloud with a dramatic sigh. “He was so nice. What if he never wants to see me again? What if I blew it?”

Hoseok is scrolling through your messages with Jihoon, scrunching his nose. “Hmm. Or maybe,” he pauses to flip the screen towards you, “you’re just being silly. What, did you get drunk off one beer again?"

Jihoon: Make it home safe, lightweight?

Your lips curl into a smile reading the message, quickly texting a response.

You: I'm fine lol i told you I wasn't drunk. Sorry if I worried you at all!

Jihoon: oh good guess I can spend the rest of my night thinking about you for other reasons now 😏

Breathing gets a little harder as your heart swells to your brain and turns it to mush.

"Damn this guy's smooth," Hoseok murmurs as you set the phone down on the table, feeling completely dumbstruck.

"What do I say?" you ask, suddenly unable to form a coherent thought. Panic bubbles deep in your belly. There’s no doubt in your mind whatever you say will make this guy never speak to you again and you actually maybe kind of enjoyed his company.

Hoseok drums his fingertips on the table, a devilish grin spreading across his features as he begins to walk them towards your phone. “I can type out something for you.”

He bursts out laughing as you quickly snatch the device, sending off a simple blushing smiley.

“Bo-ring,” he sings into the rim of his glass, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Just as he’s putting his drink down, you’re bringing yours to your lips. “So does this mean you’re not sleeping with Namjoon anymore?”

A cough sputters from your mouth. Your drink comes dribbling out from between your lips like a boozy waterfall and ice cubes plop back into the nearly empty glass. “Namjoon told you?!”

‘Wha?” He raises his eyebrows, mouth hanging open. “For real?!”

Oh no. Oh. Nononononono.

“Not! Like that!”

He saw Namjoon coming out of your apartment this morning, but he failed to mention any recent developments. What’s he at, two weeks now? He can’t have confessed, but it’s clear that something has happened. Did he make a move? Did you?

A smug grin splits his face in two, as he plants an elbow on the table and rests his chin on his palm. For some reason the only thing playing in your brain as he stares at you like this is a quote from Spongebob Squarepants: ‘You like Krabby Patties, don’t you Squidward?’

“Stop looking at me like that!”

He continues to stare at you with his accusatory grin and you feel yourself cracking under the pressure.

“Hoseok!”

Silently waiting, he does a slow blink and lets out a lofty sigh full of longing.

“I--! We--! Slept. Literally slept. Not. Dirty,” you panic, trying to fix the mess you’ve made. Here you are telling Hoseok after making Namjoon promise to forget, to not say anything himself. You’re a filthy hypocrite. You only maybe planned on telling Jennie. Maybe. Because chances are she’d be looking at you the same way Hoseok is right now and you’re not sure you can handle the mortifying experience twice.

You drop your forehead to the table hard enough to rattle the plates and cups on the table. Hoseok cringes and reaches out to place a comforting hand on your back but then thinks better of it and awkwardly pats your head instead.

Your voice is muffled as you wrap your arms around your face. “We didn’t have sex. We were just sleeping in the same bed. Please don’t make it into something it’s not.”

He polishes off his drink and looks down at you. Something it’s not? It’s definitely something that should be. You idiots are so close to being everything you both want to be for each other, and yet for some reason you refuse to accept it as the truth. If you’re sleeping in the same bed, regardless of whether you're feeling each other up or if it really is just innocent cuddling, you’re already in too deep to call yourself ‘just friends.’

You narrow your eyes at him when he rolls his. It seems like admission is still a topic to be avoided.

“Fine,” he huffs, feigning indifference. “I was just hoping for some drama.”

Namjoon better get his shit together soon. You might actually see this smooth-talking person again. If he’s as charming as he seems, he’ll have you falling for him in no time. Hoseok contemplates whether or not the guy is just fishing for casual sex with an easy target, but he doesn’t know enough about Jihoon to say for sure. But you? As big as you talk, you’re soft. Squishy, inside and out. Either way Namjoon will be crushed; there’s no way around that. But the last thing Hoseok wants is to see is not just one, but two of his friends heartbroken.

“Don’t say anything. Please,” you beg, reaching for the hand resting on the back of your scalp and fixing your gaze on the table. The sound of desperation seems to confirm there’s more at play than friends snuggling up in the same bed. He wordlessly curls his fingers around yours, giving them a squeeze, which causes you to look up.

“I won’t say a word. Who do you think I am: Jimin?”

It feels like he’s opening the curtains in your apartment to let the sunshine in all over again when he smiles and you can’t help but let the silent giggles break your nerves down.

Familiar hands press down on your shoulders, giving them a gentle rub. “Damn. Drunk already, Geeksquad?”

You can’t help but straighten your spine and slink back into the motion, despite the fresh briar of worry prickling your insides. Are things weird? You feel like things are weird. You try to make sense of the confusion blossoming with your nerves, but fuck, it feels so good when he does that. “No…mmm.”

You melt into the man at your back and are met with a familiar dimpled smile. The anxiety in your stomach disperses as quickly as it came on. Hoseok watches in silence with pursed lips that threaten to curl into a smile. You guys are morons. The way you’re looking at each other is almost sickening; it’s like you’re the only two people in the room. Something has definitely evolved in your relationship, but it’s not enough. Not yet. He’s never wanted to smush two people’s heads together so badly.

Hoseok clears his throat and stands, pinching your arm as he passes by you. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

You smooth your palm over the tender flesh, wrenching yourself away from the hypnotic pull of the man behind you as you down your backwashed drink. He lets his hand linger on your shoulder as he slides into the chair beside you. Suddenly all you can think about is how good those hands felt holding you steady as he rutted his hips against your ass. You swallow, casting your gaze at the table while trying to push the memory from your brain. The harder you try, the more you remember. Moaning and grinding your ass back into him. The growl in his throat. The frantic panting in your ear.

He leans in, a familiar concern evident in his hushed tone. “Everything okay?”

No.

“Yeah.”

You wilt under his skeptical eyes, shifting your attention to the glass you’re now sliding back and forth between your hands.

“You sure?” he asks, letting his thumb trail down your arm

You try to remember to breathe, not wanting to draw attention to the flustered heat in your chest. It’s easy to attribute the inappropriate thoughts to your conversation with Hobi. He brought it up and he doesn’t even know. Not really. And now it’s all you can think about.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, brow furrowing.

Yes.

When you don’t answer, he rests his elbow on the table and uses his palm to support his head. “Office hours are closed but Namjoon’s therapy hours are open.”

I want you to come home with me again so we can dry hump like we’re teenagers. You wish you had a shock collar for your thoughts. Stop. This is Namjoon.

You shake your head and force a guilty smile as you meet his gaze. Regret courses through your stomach, causing it to do somersaults. You can tell he spent way longer styling his hair than he would have you believe, but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t do a great job. It’s surprising he would let it get so long in such humid weather, but the ashy brown color compliments his dark eyes well and you hate to admit he looks rather attractive with it falling over his forehead like this. It just looks so…

Pullable.

You want to twist your fingers in it and draw him in. Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek and you scold yourself, squashing the thoughts before they can take over. Think about something else.

Easier thought than done. Your brain has moved onto another target, focusing on the muscular forearm supporting his head. Has he really been working out? In his current position, the shadowy contours sculpted into his flesh seem more prominent than usual. It’s like you’re seeing them for the first time. The loose tanktop hanging around his torso probably has something to do with it. Your eyes linger far too long on a brown nipple poking out from behind the thin fabric.

He raises his eyebrows, watching your eyes wander everywhere but his face. You’ve been silent too long, but every thought in your mind threatens to spill out. You clear your throat, forcing your eyes to rest on his face. Anything is better than the hesitation heavily seated on your tongue.

“I had a date today.” Of course the first thing that comes out is just a complicated addition to the stockpile of conflict in your gut.

He does his best to remain stoic, despite the tendrils of hurt creeping up his chest. It's easier to mask the pain as surprise. "Oh? For real?"

"He seemed okay." You nod. "I didn't even spill anything on myself this time."

"Wow," he chuckles, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Look at you, all grown up."

“Yeah. I put my bra on by myself and everything,” you joke, oblivious to Hoseok’s approach.

His hands reach around your sides, planting two drinks on the table. One looks suspiciously like something you would drink and the other is most definitely beer.

“Wow, what did I miss?” Hoseok asks, hugging you from behind. Any excuse to tease you is a good one, especially knowing there’s something going on between you and Namjoon. His fingers walk up your arms and tussle your hair.

Namjoon watches your expression morph into embarrassment and graciously brings the beer to his lips. You’re so cute when you’re flustered. Warm butterflies attempt to extinguish the inky tendrils of despair using his heart as a vice grip. Again he had his chance to confess this morning, and again he didn’t. And now you’re here running through the details of your date with someone else. It would be selfish to tell you now, wouldn’t it? It’s just something he’ll have to deal with.

Hoseok watches his friend’s eyes drop to the table as you prattle on about your date. While you’ve known Namjoon for a little longer than a year, Hoseok’s been friends with him for much longer. Maybe that’s why you can’t see it: the hopeful light being sucked from Namjoon’s eyes even as he hangs on your every word. Because he’s so in love with you, he’ll listen to anything you have to say, even if it’s about your attraction to someone else.

Hobi pinches your sides, shifting the focus of the conversation to his grabby little crab fingers and how much you hate them. He mocks you, dodging your playful smacks to his ribs. If the opportunity arises to spare Namjoon from another second of heartbreak, he’ll take it. He knows Namjoon never will, no matter how much it hurts.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The work week passes quickly. Things almost feel normal again. It probably helps that you made a point not to get sloppy drunk, you didn’t kiss Jimin, and you didn’t invite Namjoon back to your place for another dry-humping session disguised as platonic cuddling. But there’s this nagging feeling in the back of your head, constantly reminding you that you liked it. Try as you might to deny it, nothing sounds more appealing than the safety and warmth of his arms.

Instead you’re rolling against the cold sheets of your bed, trying to will yourself to get up. Again you’ve been dreaming about him. Again you tell yourself it’s just sexual frustration latching onto a familiar face. And again you stare at the ceiling, entirely unconvinced that there isn’t something more to it. You wish you invited him over again this weekend. You missed how good it felt to have him at your back, sliding his fingers along your arms until you fell asleep.

You talk to him every day and yet you’re still itching for more, looking for any excuse to talk to him, hoping he’ll break something that you’ll have to come fix since he hasn’t all week. It’s strange. So roll onto your side, face smushed into the pillow as you send him a text.

You: i heard u say u were gonna buy me coffee today. That’s so nice bae 😍

You wait a few minutes before the dots appear on screen.

Joonie: You are literally the worst. My alarm was just about to go off. 

You: 🙂

You: u gonna tho

Joonie: Buy your own damn coffee

You: WOW RUDE 😭i just wanted a little succ

You: of the

You: caffiENE

Joonie: Why are you like this?

You: because ur my favorite person

Joonie: ….

He sends a meme from Spongebob where a fish is extending its neck with a judgemental stare.

Joonie: You don’t have to butter me up to get free coffee. Just text me your order

You: ashkfls;adsfkshfk ok ok gimme a sex

You: SEC

Joonie: 🙄

Talk about Freudian slip. You pause, considering what kind of coffee mood you’re in today. Bitter espresso or sugary sweet?

You: Vanilla iced coffee with one sugar pump please

Joonie: aight stop by my office. I’ve been having trouble connecting to the printer but no one has come to check it out

You: did u set up a ticket?

Joonie: Of course. I guess no one is as competent as you 

You: kiss ass

Joonie: 😘

You roll your eyes, close out the conversation, and purse your lips before setting the phone down. Your latest dream resurfaces in your brain, straddling Namjoon’s torso as he leans you back over his desk and peppers your chest with kisses. Again you tell yourself it’s not about Namjoon, but the thirst associated with the drought of your sex life. Running your fingers down your torso, you start trying to work off some of the residual tension from your dreams.

Conflicted doesn’t even begin to describe your feelings. Confused doesn’t cover it either. You’d already met up with Jihoon again for a serious competition of indoor minigolf followed by a casual fast food dinner. Even then you found yourself thinking of one lanky professor, his dimpled smile replacing Jihoon’s every time he laughed. It’s why you didn’t take him up on the offer to return to his place. That and the fear of potentially being murdered.

You don’t want to have sex with someone when you don’t feel safe, but you consider ways to combat that that feeling for the next one. Maybe bringing him to your place is safer. After all, Yoongi and Hoseok are just down the hall. They’d be sure to check in on you if they knew you had company. People have sex with strangers all the time. It’s not that complicated. Why are you making it into such a big deal?

You can’t help but feel a little guilty. Things have been progressing with him pretty fast, but you have plenty of other offers to meet up with guys that you just haven’t jumped on. It’s kind of overwhelming now. Maybe you should call this dating thing off until your figure out what the hell is going on with your brain.

Or maybe you should just focus on masturbating instead of the confusing guys lighting up the switchboard of your brain. As you reach for your phone and start typing in the familiar web address of your favorite porn site, a photo message from Jihoon appears. You wonder what kind of meme he’s stolen from twitter this time. Carefully, you pause your search in favor of opening his message. It’s definitely not the meme you were looking for.

What you do see is a whole lot of skin along with a carefully placed kissy emoji over his crotch and a “good morning” text accompanying the image. You swallow hard, allowing yourself to be a creep for half a second. You spread your fingers across the screen to zoom in, taking in the sight of the rippled shadows lining his stomach.

You: 😵 

You: im dead sorry we cant see each other anymore

Jihoon: 😂 sorry was that too much?????

You want to say no, but your belly does somersaults at the prospect of sending your own crafted picture as a response. It takes some finagling but you finally manage a shot with your arm wrapped around your chest at the perfect angle. No rolls showing, just a set of perfectly pouty lips, slanted jaw, and a great shot of cleavage. You know it’s taken you far too long to respond and you’re only slightly panicked as you scramble to send the photo over.

You see texts fly in from Namjoon and Jihoon and you swipe to close out the conversation with Namjoon. You quickly attach your photo and hit send, hoping Jihoon will feel rewarded for his patience. But your stomach sinks like a stone has been dropped into it. Your image doesn’t appear in the string of messages with him.

Jihoon: Left you speechless, huh?

You: JUST A BIT I NEED TO GO

You don’t give him a chance to respond or sass you for potentially getting off to that pic. You know how your statement reads, but you can’t be bothered to care with the other thought on your mind. Quickly navigating to your conversation with Namjoon, you wince, seeing the previous message he sent with the image you intended for another recipient.

Joonie: Whipped cream?

And there’s the risqué image.

If you ignore it, will he pretend he never got it? Or should you apologize right now and purge the view of the image by sending a billion texts? You decide on the latter, trying to perform damage control. He laughs it off and sends off a joke about just wanting a yes or no along with a few sickly emojis. You still feel terrible. How many times can you fuck up with him in one month? You’re surprised he still agrees to be your friend.

Hanging your head, you forgo touching yourself in favor of a cold shower.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

By the time your get to his office he’s just setting two cups on his desk and shrugging off his long trenchcoat. His back is to you as you attempt to quietly slink in, but he turns to hang the damp piece of clothing on the rack to your left. You freeze like a deer in headlights, but his eyes soften.

“Mornin’ Geeksquad.”

“Good morning,” you sheepishly mumble, shrugging off your own damp hoodie.

The shirt you’ve chosen today is a flowy button-up blouse, which is a step up from the t-shirts you normally wear. Paired with the form-fitting slacks and makeup you took painstaking attempts to apply this morning, you feel confident that you’re at least somewhat stylish, even if you’re not on Namjoon’s level.

“You…” He tries to remember what words are as his eyes roam over your form. Noticing the top two buttons of your blouse are undone, he clears his throat and tries to push the photo from this morning from his mind, but it keeps coming back. “You look really nice today.”

You smile, folding your arms over your chest as he noticeably stiffens, fumbling with his words.

“I mean, you look nice every day. But, ah…. This-This outfit looks good on you. Really good.”

He rubs the back of his neck and you relish in the appreciation he offers, even if he’s a mess about it. Your cheeks are on fire and you giggle, finding your heart jumping at the way he stammers his way through the conversation.

Why are you acting so shy? You love it when he loses composure. You swallow, allowing yourself to embrace the heat in your belly. Isn't this exactly why you started dressing up more at work?

Pushing the demon on your shoulder back into the floating expanse of your stomach, you press your lips together in a thin line, trying to hide the grin threatening to show off the teeth you've recently started whitening.

“And you’re waiting… For the uh…. The computer. Printer. Thing. Of course. Hold up. Let me log in.”

He crosses the room and sits in his chair, eager to focus on something other than your gorgeous face and distracting body since it's clear you're feeling yourself today. You plop down in the cushioned chair on the other side of his desk and rest your neck on the back of the chair to stare at the ceiling. He focuses on the screen, slowly typing his password and trying his best not to look past his monitor at you. He begins twirling a pencil between his fingers to keep himself from fidgeting.

While he had tried to make you feel better about the accidental photo, it was just another thing piled on to your interactions lately that have been making it harder and harder to keep his feelings to himself. Was it really an accident? Maybe you’re just testing the waters. After everything that’s happened, he’s not sure what to think. Everything feels too coincidental to be anything other than pure attraction flying between the two of you. But if that were true, you’d have asked him to spend the night again.

He was hoping for it, hoping for another chance to make his move. This time he’d be sure to lock the door and switch your phone volume to silent. This time he’d buy you a dozen misfit roses with a billion thorns. This time he had it planned out: flowers, dinner, movie, and confess with a kiss.

After hearing about your first date with this Jihoon guy, he decided he was going to suck up his insecurities and finally go for it. It was bad enough when he thought you’d end up with Jimin, but the thought of losing you to a stranger is far worse than he could have imagined. But the weekend passed without invitation and his courage waned as soon as it was clear he would have to initiate.

Thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things. What if he messed things up? Time already appeared to be running out when Hoseok had given him a deadline to confess by, but with your new dating developments, time seemed to be slipping through his fingers even faster than before. His hesitation helps nothing.

His stomach lurches as he considers the ramifications of the image you sent this morning. If you didn’t mean to send it to him, then it must have been meant for Jihoon. Are you really already exchanging nudes with this other guy? Has he seen all of you? Has he already lain with you? Filled the space in your bed? In you? Maybe Jihoon is the only one he knows about. What if you’re talking to even more people and that photo was for someone you haven’t even mentioned yet?

The pencil in his hand splinters into pieces with a loud crack and your head snaps up to look in the direction the sound came from.

“What was that?”

“Uh… Just me being the God of Destruction.” He rises motions for you to take his place in the chair as he pockets the fragments of the broken pencil.

You shake your head, grabbing your drink as you circle the desk and get comfortable in his chair. “You’re hopeless.”

Navigating the network doesn’t take very long. It just looks like a missing password to connect to the printer’s address. Huh. You don’t remember updating anything. Maybe your coworkers reset it. Regardless, it’s an easy fix. You take a sip through your straw and slam the cup down on the desk.

Suddenly your dream is on vivid display in your head and you freeze as you stare at the smooth, dark surface of the polished woodgrain. The sound of his balls slapping your ass echoes in your ears. You can see the scenario, clear as day. He grips your hips and fucks himself into your tight cunt, tits bouncing in his face as he sucks a hardened nipple into his mouth, praising you for your tightness, how you squeeze him, how you take him so well like the dirty slut you ar--

His hands come down on your shoulders. “Hey. You okay?”

Blood rushes in your ears and you shake the daydream off. You really need to stop watching naughty teacher porn but it’s always on the first page. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with Namjoon and everything to do with laziness. The problem with that is you’re usually very particular about the videos that you watch. Can you fully attribute it to laziness when this is the type of thing you found yourself skipping over just a few months ago? Don’t dwell on it, you tell yourself, continuing typing where you left off.

“Sorry, just… spaced out,” you mumble, leaning back in the chair as you finish up. “There. Should be all set.”

He allows his gaze to drop down past the two open buttons and straight to your breasts, perfectly nestled against the silky black material of your bra. His eyelids flutter and he licks his lips, hoping you don’t notice what a creep he’s being right now. How much spank bank material can he collect in one day?

“Do you want to test it?” you ask, quickly rummaging through the millions of icons on his desktop for any word document.

His breath hitches as you hover over one labeled ‘Draft_Trivia_L,’ double clicking it without a second thought. His hand catches your wrist and he spins you to face him as the document opens.

“You can’t just open things. That’s private!” he flares, heat building in his face. His gut fills with immediate regret.

You blink a few times and look down at your lap, feeling rather foolish. You’ve never seen him snap like that; it must really important. Regardless of your friendship, you know better as a professional. Your gut tumbles in endless circles. Just knowing you’ve upset him on top of everything else you’ve fucked up with your friendship has your mind heavy with guilt.

“I’m really sorry. I should have asked first,” you murmur, feeling like you’re about to cry. You’re not a child. You can handle being scolded when you’ve done wrong, even though it sucks. But this is different. He’s never gotten even remotely angry at you before. And you’ve never wanted crawl into to the server room and volunteer the remainder of your week sorting cables, but there’s a first time for everything.

The hands at your wrists fall to his sides and his expression softens. Before he can offer the apology on the tip of his tongue, you rise and head straight for the door.

“Test it out and let helpdesk know if it’s working.”

Just as you grab the handle and pull open the door, his hand pushes the heavy panel back in place with a click. You turn around, your back resting against the door, but he keeps his arm steady, hovering over you in a way that makes your heart race, despite the turmoil churning in your tummy.

“Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap,” he says in a gentle tone. “It’s just… that particular document is… very personal. It’s--”

“You don’t have to tell me,” you say in a quiet voice. “I fucked up. I’m supposed to let you drive after I fix stuff. I’m not supposed to touch anything other than what’s broken.”

“You know I don’t have a license,” he jokes, earning a soft laugh from you. He sighs. “Remember how I told you about that one student? Well it turns out they really resonated with our poetry studies. They told me it reminds them of something they like to do for fun.” He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck.

“They like to freestyle rap. Do tons of underground competitions, that kind of thing. So I’ve been working with them on bridging the gap between literature, poetry, and rap. And that document you opened… I’m trying my hand at it to lead by example. I want to share it with you, but it’s... not done and it’s a mess I’m still working through. But I promise I will let you see it when it’s done.”

“I’m sure it’s amazing. You’re a genius,” you admit with a shrug of your shoulders. “You have a way with words unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Don’t feel like you have to show me anything, Namjoon. You’re not obligated to.”

He scoffs, relaxing his posture to pinch the bridge of his nose as the compliment starts to sink in. Did you just acknowledge his sexy brain? He can’t help but grin like an idiot as he shakes his head. “I have to show you. It’s actually… I kind of wrote it about… I mean, for you.”

Your eyes widen, curiosity bubbling in your chest. “M-Me?”

What the hell could he possibly have to say about you that could turn into a literary piece to lead by example?

“Yes. You.” He takes a sip of the beverage in his hand before thrusting it in your direction. “You know what? I don’t actually hate that.”

“I know. You have a sweet tooth,” you giggle, swiping your finger across the whipped cream covering the tip of his nose.

You take your finger into your mouth and lick it clean. He watches you with hungry, longing eyes, replacing your finger with something else in his mind. He quickly covers the look with a sigh, gathers your coat from the rack nearby and throws it over your head, shielding himself from your teasing actions. You scramble to regain your field of vision and grin at him as he sits down at his desk again.

You turn to finally leave again, this time in much better spirits. “I’ll talk to you later, Joonie.”

“Geeksquad,” he calls, causing you to pause. “We’re good, right?”

You rest your face on the doorframe as you peer back at him with a shy, slightly smooshed grin. “Of course. As long as you don’t hate me for the million ways I mess up.”

He chuckles, warm dimpled smile gracing his features. “Never.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Thursday night. Finally. You sit on your couch legs propped up over Jennie’s lap, finding some time to catch up with your bestie. She passes the bowl of popcorn over to you, engrossed in the comedy-drama you’ve been binging for the last couple hours. When you shake your head and push the bowl back in her direction, she looks over at you.

“What’s wrong.” It’s a demand, not a question.

“Why would you think anything’s wrong?” you ask defensively, already feeling like you’re about to cry.

“Because I know you, you dumb bitch,” she responds with the love of someone who has definitely seen you at your worst. “Also your leg has been bouncing for the last ten minutes and if you had to pee you would just get up.”

Immediately you halt the motion you hadn’t realized you’d been making. “Jihoon wants to meet up again this week.”

“Wow. Does that make date three? Bow-chicka-wow-wow,” she jokes, causing your feet to rise as she bumps her hips up and down.

You swipe at the air and roll your eyes. “Please, like he wants to.”

She scoffs, stuffing her mouth full of popcorn. “Didn’t you say he tried to get you back to his place after the last one? Dude def wants to bang it out.”

You twiddle your fingers nervously. “Do you think I should?”

“What, fuck him?” she asks, blinking at you as though she’s carefully analyzing your body language through the fluttering of her eyelids.

You slowly nod, puffing your cheeks out and letting air slowly escape the little ‘o’ you’ve made with your mouth. “I already told him I would get drinks with him and I’m nervous about taking things further after.”

“Y/N, honey, why are you asking me? I’m not gonna do it for you. Do you want to fuck him?”

“I don’t know…” You rub your forehead nervously, looking back at the television. “But I think it might take my mind off of some things.”

“Like...?” she prods, realizing there’s something else you’re on the verge of needing to get out, but you need a teensy push to get there.

You purse your lips and stare up at the ceiling, trying to figure out a way to make it sound less crazy than the bottled up way it’s consuming your thoughts.

“When I’m with him... I can’t stop thinking about Namjoon,” you say quietly, feeling lightheaded just from having said it out loud. You said the words. You admitted it’s a thing. Now what? Jennie will know what to do.

“Ew,” she says out of instinct, knowing anytime she’s broached the subject of you getting together with Namjoon you’ve made gagging sounds. But when she sees the horror on your face, she pauses. “Oh, are we not at ew anymore? Are you finally cool with me saying he’s fine as hell? You feeling a little change, babe?”

“I don’t know what I feel. But it’s not ew. Not even close. I keep having these…” you pause and look at the unlocked door, wondering if there are any ears listening on the other side. Your voice drops to a whisper and you lean in. “I keep having these dreams where he’s… you know?”

“Oh, okay,” she says with a nod, not quite understanding what you’re getting at, but trying to be a good friend by agreeing anyway. She plants her elbow on the back of the couch and rests her cheek on her palm. “But like… how do you mean?”

Your eyes look everywhere but at her face. “You know…”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows furrow and it’s not until you make a crude circle with your hand and poke a finger through it a few times that her eyes light up with understanding. Her voice takes on a surprised tone. “Oh!” She pushes your legs off her lap, pauses the show, and scooches closer. “Okay. Wow. This is really happening. Finally. Details. Spill it.”

With a groan, you recount every last thing you can remember about the time you’ve spent with Namjoon in the last few weeks, everything from toilet hair to the most recent photo mishap. When you’ve finished, Jennie sighs loudly.

“I take off for like a week and this is what happens. I love you, but you are a serious fucking mess.” You’ve just been fanning the flames of the torch he’s been carrying for you. No wonder it’s all coming to a head like this. She’s surprised Namjoon hasn’t caved and finally confessed already. Isn’t he ready to blow at this point? She stifles a giggle at the double entendre.

“I know.” You stare at the ceiling, hands folded over your lap. “So what do I do?”

“Okay. Let me get this straight. You’ve slept in the same bed, cuddled, flashed him, almost made out with him, humped him, sent him a nude, you’re having sex dreams about him aaaaand you’re thinking about him while you’re on dates with other people… And you’re asking me what to do? You know what to do. Just bang it out already,” she says, clapping her hands together on the last few syllables to emphasize her point.

“Obviously there’s something there. So why don’t you just test the chemistry? You guys might be surprisingly compatible.”

You shake you head and run your fingers through your hair. “I can’t risk his friendship. I’ve fucked up so much already. Like what if we do it and he’s like… cool let’s not ever again. And then he tells me our friendship is over.”

“He won’t,” she groans, tossing one of the throw pillows at you. “Stop being dumb.”

“But…” Your mind races as you consider every last thing that could go wrong, hugging the pillow to your chest. “Jennie, I’m too scared to lose him. I can’t.”

Her brow knits in concentration. Your fears are understandable, but she knows you can be happy with him if you just open up to the possibility, especially since you’ve become such good friends in such a relatively short amount of time. But she also knows pushing you too hard too fast will make you clam up. You may not be willing to address what you feel, but at least there’s admission of some kind of feeling. That’s progress.

“So where do we go from here, Y/N? What are you doing?”

You wish you had an answer. “I… I’m calling Firewall on this. Right now. Namjoon keeps me in line with everyone else. You keep me in line with him.”

Jennie swallows, her heart breaking for you both as she nods. “Okay. If that’s what you want,” she agrees softly.

“It is,” you say, voice already full of uncertainty.

You have a date tomorrow night with Jihoon and you’ve decided you are going to stop thinking about Namjoon for the entirety of it. For the sake of your friendship and your sanity. You have to keep things simple and divided. So why does it feel like that’s way too easy of an answer?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jihoon is way better at dancing than you are, which doesn’t come as a surprise, honestly. What you do find shocking is the blatant boner you feel poking against your ass as he guides you across his hips and the filthy things he whispers into the slope of your neck. Clearly he uses dancing as an excuse to cop a feel, but the butterflies in your stomach and the heat in your cheeks tell you you’re okay with that. You shyly reach up to cradle your fingers around the back of his head, breath staggered as you slowly lean back to press your lips to his. His jaw is stiff, but his lips are big and soft and it’s easy enough to substitute the person you’re craving without a second thought. Fireworks explode in your brain, blocking off all possible hangups about the action.

As he brings his hands up to your chest, giving your tits a rough squeeze, you come crashing back down. Fuck. You had one job tonight. Firewall, remember? Your eyes shoot open and you’re left with a suffocating swarm of bodies around you and hands that feel constricting. It’s too much. You need air. You need air and space around you to figure this out.

You grab his hands and move them back to an innocent place on your hips. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you say, desperate to escape this place you suddenly feel trapped in.

He allows you to slip through his sweaty fingers and disappear into the crowd.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Namjoon says, unable to take his eyes off the way you’re moving with the man at your back. Is this his fate: destined to watch you grind your body on someone else?

Jennie, Jungkook, and Tae exchange worried looks. Hoseok just scoffs as he peers through the glass railing across the sea of writhing bodies.

“I know. What kind of dancing is that? It’s like she can’t remember anything I taught her. Crescent moon shapes. CRESCENT.” He grunts in frustration and drags his hand down his chin. “I’m gonna have an aneurysm.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair and placing his arms out around the back of Jennie and Jungkook’s chairs. “Of course that’s what you would see.”

She grumbles as Tae manspreads, knocking her knee with his. She settles for the way his fingers trail feather light touches at her back.

“Namjoon, you didn’t have to come,” she says sympathetically. “I just wanted to keep an eye on her just in case… I’m sorry. I know you guys think I’m crazy. But like… I’ve been with crazy. And if that experience has taught me anything, it’s to trust my gut.” She pats her stomach a few times and takes a small sip of her drink. “And my gut says don’t trust a hoe you don’t know, especially with your bestie.”

“That’s exactly why I had to come,” he sighs.

Touche, she thinks.

Suddenly you’re moving in a slow, sweet way that Jennie recognizes as your telltale shy kiss. As much as she likes the feeling of Tae’s fingers dancing with the ends of her hair, she stands and takes Namjoon’s hands, pulling him from his seat. She can hear Tae’s grumbly protests as she moves away, but it doesn’t matter. She’d really like to spare Namjoon the heartbreak of watching the person he loves kiss someone else.

“Joonie. Get up. Switch places with me. Come on.”

Her act of heroism comes too late. He falls back into his chair with his jaw hanging open, unable to stomach the sight. So he forces his eyes to focus on the ambient lights dangling from the ceiling. It's stupid. You're not even his, so why did that feel like getting punched in the gut? He closes his eyes and swallows the growing lump in his throat. Get it together.

Jungkook grimaces at Hobi, mouthing the words ‘what do we do?’ Hoseok looks from Jungkook to Namjoon, and then down to the floor where you’re prying Jihoon’s hands away from your chest and shying away. Squinting to get a better view of your form, he realizes you’re not just slinking away, you’re running away.

Hoseok rises, dragging his dejected friend to his feet. "Hey, let's get you something stronger than a ginger ale. Up! Up! Time to get our bodies moving. Things will be okay!"

Hoseok jerks his head in the direction he saw you running off to, making eye contact with Jennie. "Y/N is obviously okay! So let's not have wasted this time sulking when we could be getting endorphins going."

Jennie cocks her head to the side as she stands and peers over the rail, trying to discern whatever information Hoseok wanted to relay. Then she sees it: the distant form sneaking into the bathroom.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Namjoon groans as he leans his elbows on the bar. “You know what, I’m starting to think this wasn’t such a good idea. She’s obviously safe and happy. Can you please drop me off at home?”

Hoseok is looking past Namjoon, squinting into the crowd as though looking for something in particular. “You know this is your last weekend to confess before I tell her for you, right?”

“Hey. Don’t complicate her life. She’s got someone now. I appreciate the push, but it’s done. There’s nothing else to--”

“Hey isn’t that the guy?” Hoseok interrupts, hastily thrusting a pointed finger just in front of his friend’s nose.

Namjoon’s gaze follows Hoseok’s fingertip to Jihoon on the other side of the bar, putting his hands around some other girl’s waist and burying his face into her neck as they grind on one another.

“What the fuck?” Namjoon breathes.

His feet are moving without provocation and before he knows it, he’s angrily wrenching the couple apart. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Dude what the fuck? Do I know you?” Jihoon blinks, giving him a shove.

Namjoon’s shoulder dips back, but his stance is firm. He drags his lip through his teeth, a manic grin threatening to spread through if he doesn’t keep his jaw tight. “Try that shit again. I dare you. I will lay you out.”

The girl he was dancing with grimaces and quickly backs away, sensing the danger in this situation. Jungkook is waiting. He catches her wrist and spins her gracefully into his arms.

“Careful, gorgeous. Don’t want you mixed up in whatever that is, hmm?” he says, brushing the hair from her face with featherlight touches that contrast the solid mass of his body pressed against her side. “Don’t you want to dance with me instead?”

She looks like she’s about to slap him for a fraction of a second, but melts into a puddle as soon as she meets those big brown eyes. She weakly allows him to lure her away from the squabbling men.

“Maybe…”

“Hah. Well then. Maybe I’ll let you,” he teases, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek and disappearing into the crowd with her hot on his heels.

Jihoon’s jaw grows taut with annoyance as he watches his target slip away. He scoffs. “What the fuck is your problem with me? I don’t know you. Get lost.” He clicks his tongue and mutters, “fucking punk.”

“You’re here with Y/N and you’re out here feeling up other girls. That’s my problem with you.”

“Pfft. That’s what this is about? What are you, her boyfriend? Or do you just have white knight syndrome? Look, I don’t care what you guys are. Everybody has a side piece. Why are you being so judgemental?”

Namjoon’s concentrated brow briefly transforms into confusion, causing his response to die on the tip of his tongue. Jihoon catches the panic before he can turn his face to stone.

“Oh, that’s not it is it? I see how it is now. You’re stuck in the friend zone.” Jihoon lets out a smug laugh. “Are you stalking her? You must have seen our kiss. Tell me. How badly do you wish you were me?”

Namjoon feels like his teeth are going to break if he keeps grinding them together like this, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from unloading on this guy.

“Heh. Judging from your silence, pretty fucking badly. How long have you waited? Months? Years? Be honest. It drives you crazy knowing that I’m going to have her tonight, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t deserve her,” he spits back, unable to hold the jealous venom from his tone. “I’m not even worried. She’ll figure you out.”

Jihoon shakes his head, taking a few steps closer to him. “You’re wrong though. I know her type. She’s desperate for somebody to love her. Anybody will do. It doesn’t matter who.”

His words are like a sucker punch to the gut. What if he’s right? Regardless, he powers through his insecurities, knowing a guy as shitty as Jihoon is trying to go for the low blows to throw him off his game. “Man, do you ever get tired of spewing shit?”

“Dude, why do you even want her?” Jihoon shakes his head with a laugh. “Yeah, she's kind of cute but there are plenty of hotter chicks out there.” He clicks his tongue. “I thought I saw an easy opportunity to get laid but I didn't think someone as desperate as her would take this long to get in the sack. It’s kind of more trouble than it's worth for what's bound to be a mediocre lay. I can just tell.”

Namjoon clenches his jaw tighter, knowing that he’s just egging him on at this point.

“But I’ll fuck her anyway. Because I can.”

Namjoon lunges toward him but Taehyung and Hoseok are already grabbing his arms and steadying him like vines entangling a tree. Jihoon silently laughs like this is the most amusing game in the world.

“He’s not worth it. Don’t do something you’ll regret,” Tae says, glaring in Jihoon’s direction, who rolls his eyes in response.

“Time to cool off,” Hoseok whispers, working on backing him up. “Come on. She’s smart. Believe in her.”

Namjoon glares at the enemy he’s made today, wishing he got at least one punch in. “You best keep your mouth shut, or I’ll make sure it stays shut.”

“That’s fine. I’ll make sure Y/N’s stays wide open though, don’t worry.”

Namjoon seethes with rage as he pushes his friends forward, trying to return to the man pushing his buttons. “You really wanna throw hands, or you wanna keep making backhanded comments like a bitch? Let’s fucking go.”

“Joon, come on,” Tae and Hobi take turns trying to diffuse the anger in his eyes

Jihoon rolls his eyes again. “Listen to your boyfriends, bro.”

“Yeah, keep rolling your eyes. I see you looking for your fucking brain,” Namjoon quips with a snort. With a frustrated sigh he finally allows Tae and Hobi to goad him back to a distance where he’s not in danger of putting his fist in someone’s face.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You come back from the bathroom, panic attack only a hazy memory thanks to one of your best friends showing up to talk you through it. Of course Jennie followed you here to make sure you’d be okay. Honestly, you couldn’t be more grateful right now. She gave you the pep talk you needed.

When you finally spot Jihoon, he’s standing alone at the bar, casually leaning against it but looking pissed as fuck. Before you can ask if everything is okay, he’s pulling you into a deep kiss, forcing his wet, slimy tongue down your throat. He’s sure to make a show of it knowing that Namjoon is watching from somewhere nearby.

You wedge your hands between your bodies and break free of the kiss, feeling like that was super out of character for him with how you left things. You were hoping he’d be more thoughtful and considerate of your earlier reaction, but it only adds more proof onto the obvious statement that he is not Namjoon. You try to give him a pass because you know being horny definitely makes you stupid and needy.

“What’s gotten into you?” You giggle nervously, trying to ignore the anxiety nagging at the back of your mind. The butterflies have become a swarm of angry bees circling your belly.

He leans in to whisper against your ear, “I just want you so badly right now. I’m sorry. You wanna get out of here?”

You shift uncomfortably, unsure if you're ready for that, or if you even want that with him. A sense of obligation floods your brain, even though you know you don’t owe him a thing. How fucked up is it that you feel guilty for not putting out on the third date? You don’t actually know this guy that well, so how can you bring yourself to fuck him? Stop being a prude. It’s just sex.

Fighting the sinking feeling in your gut, you grab his hand and shyly smile at him, trying to reason with yourself that at least if you go back to your place, Hobi and Yoongi will check up on you. He takes the action as wordless approval, giving you another wet, sloppy kiss that makes the stone in your stomach feel even heavier.

He discards your fingers and moves to tugging on your wrists in a way that makes them ache. The ice pick of dread starts chipping away at the corners of your mind. He hasn’t given you a reason so far to think he’ll freak if you back out now, but the way he starts leading you towards the exit ties a knot in your throat. Soon you’re practically being dragged across the room. As heavy as the stone in your stomach is, it does nothing to slow him down.

“Jihoon. Hey, slow down! Wait a sec!”

It’s too late. Your shoulder hits the doorframe and you wince as hot pain radiates from the point of impact. Oh, that’s definitely going to bruise.

“Dude!” You wrench yourself away from his grip, nursing the growing welt on your shoulder.

He raises his eyebrows and turns back to face you, concern burdening his features. A light rain begins to blanket the two of you. “Oh, you should be more careful, Y/N. Are you okay?”

Despite the fact that he practically slammed you into the door on the way out of the building, you start to feel guilty for causing him to worry as he begins fussing over you. His fingers ghost over the hand you have clamped down over the ache.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to,” you mumble, attempting to shake off the anxiety in your gut. “But I need you to slow down. You don’t even know where I live.”

“So show me,” he prods, trailing his fingers to your chin. “I’m just so excited to be with you.”

You can hear Hobi’s voice in your head, backing the unsettling feeling traveling throughout your body. Stop making excuses. Ghost him!

You pull your head back, trying to gather the willpower to be brave and back out. “Okay… But-- I-I…” You allow a nervous chuckle to pass your lips. “Look, I-I don’t think tonight is gonna work. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling kind of sick.”

The smile on his face falls. Before he can respond, Jennie’s voice cuts through the sound of rain pattering nearby cars. “Hey!”

He looks over at the sound, furrowing his brow when he sees Namjoon walking out behind your friend.

Showing up to watch, Friend Zone?

Jihoon loudly sighs. “You know what, I’m feeling kind of sick too. Sick of you saying one thing and really wanting another.”

You blink, jaw dropping open. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a fucking tease. Always giving those bedroom eyes, telling me how much you want me, how bad you want to fuck me,” he declares, raising his volume as he watches Namjoon stop dead in his tracks.

Your face grows hot, despite the mist gathered on your cheeks. “H-Hold on. I-I never---”

“But you got this shy act going so I played along. For a bit. You want to play games again. Trying to tell me you want to wait, but I know you don’t. You were the one putting my hands all over your body earlier, practically begging me to fuck you out in the open the way you were pressing that ass into me.”

You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. Is this really happening right now? It’s a nightmare. You’ll wake up any second now. Everything he’s saying is a fucking lie. So why do you feel so ashamed, so guilty?

“You know what, Jihoon?” you pipe up, the distress in your voice apparent as the shrill words escape. “You’re being a real douche right now.”

“Yeah, well you’re being a real prude for someone who is maybe a six at best,” he snorts. “And god you’re fucking boring. You should be thanking me for even considering sleeping with you.”

The words shock your system and you stand for a few seconds just processing all of the hurtful things he just said. Suddenly the heat in your cheeks radiates throughout your chest. You feel like a fucking moron. Rage. Regret. Shame. Self-loathing. Everything hits you like a truck at once, culminating into a bubbling pressure in your throat. You want to scream, but nothing comes out except for the boiling tears streaking down your cheeks. Your hand flies up, landing across his face with a satisfying smack.

Realizing what you’ve done, your eyes go wide and then clamp shut in recoil as he raises his hand to retaliate. But the blow never lands. When you open your eyes Namjoon has his hand clamped around Jihoon’s wrist, glaring daggers at the man.

“You do not fucking touch her,” he growls. “You better get the fuck out of here before I beat your ass for even thinking about it.”

Your brain has already shut down by the time Jennie grabs your waist to pull you back into a bear hug from behind. Jihoon ticks his jaw and clenches his fists, tearing himself from Namjoon’s grip. When Tae, Hobi, and Jungkook appear by his side, it seems like he reconsiders the punch he was about to throw and backs away.

“You can have her. She’s not worth it.”

Your friends stand in front of you, an unmoving daisy chain of rage as the tears fall from your face along with the apologies on your lips. Namjoon is the last to turn around, but he’s the only person you can focus on as your body convulses with the emotional distress coursing through it. You’re soon enveloped in a group hug, pressed with a deadly tightness against Namjoon’s chest. It doesn’t make you feel any less broken, but it does make you feel grateful to have such a supportive and caring family. What would you have done if they weren’t here tonight? You shudder to think about it.

Namjoon’s fingers press against the back of your head as you spew snotted, muffled sorry’s into his shirt. He’s still holding you long after everyone else has let go, offering comforting words, making sure you know you have nothing to apologize for. In this moment, the world falls away, the pain falls away, and the only thing that matters is the overflowing love you can feel emanating from the man before you.

[managedmischiefs]

north//chapter seven

enjoy lovies!! it’s action time!!

genre: angst

pairing: season nine spencer reid x female oc

warnings: gun fire, mention of blood, a lot of time/location jumps sorry

word count: 6.5k

SPENCER

SIX MONTHS LATER

"Wheels up in thirty."

The team nods and gathers our things from the round table, leaving the briefing room to return to our desks and grab our go-bags. I take a seat at my chair and reach under my desk, eyes widening as I realize my go-bag isn’t there. I retrace my steps of the last few days of not being on a case and my brain produces an image of my leather go-bag in the corner of Amelia’s bedroom. Upon checking the time, I realize I won’t have time to hop on a train, get to Amelia’s apartment, and then catch a train back here within thirty minutes. I’d miss the plane and then I won’t be able to go on the case.

My phone sits on my desk, screaming at me to make a call. I know I need to call Amelia because I need my clothes for the case. But having her come here and show her face would mean that our secret would no longer be ours. It would give the team more material to make fun of me with and to tease me about but besides that. It would mean that our relationship goes from being just two people to being eight people. I’m sure Amelia doesn’t mind as much as I do, but the fear of something happening to her because of my job will linger forever. However, I really need my clothes and I can’t take the time to worry about the long term issues of telling everyone I have a girlfriend. 

I pick up my phone and dial Amelia’s number. A glance around the bullpen tells me that nobody is looking my way and that means they won’t be eavesdropping on my conversation. What am I even nervous about? Amelia gets along with everyone so I’m sure the team will like her. They will absolutely love her, Penelope surely already does. Everything will be okay, right? I can stand some teasing about her. I already endure the teasing about basically everything else in my life so I can stand some more. At least I can be open about Amelia and bring her to dinners at Rossi’s and she can bond with my best friends and we just won’t have to hide anymore.

“Hi, dove! What’s up? I just saw you like, ten minutes ago. Aren’t you at work?"

“Yeah, I am but I've got a problem and I'm hoping you can help." Once again, I glance up to make sure that nobody is listening.

"I'm at your service, Spence. I'm still at home and I just got dressed. It's your lucky day. What do you need?"

"I left my go-bag in your room. Do you think you could bring it over here for me?"

"Yeah, of course I can but are you sure you’re okay with that? You want everyone to meet me? I know you said you wanted to keep us a secret for a little while." 

No, maybe I’m not so okay with Amelia meeting the team yet but I can’t keep her a secret forever. I have some level of confidence right now so I can’t miss this opportunity to introduce Amelia to my friends. "It’s okay. Not a big deal,” a white lie never hurt anyone, right?

"Okay! I’ll be there in a couple minutes!” I can hear the beautiful smile on her face when she speaks and the thought of getting to see her once more I leave for this case somehow makes all my anxiety and hesitation float away, leaving elation in its wake. We say our goodbyes and then I’m left to my own thoughts without Amelia as a distraction.

I tap my fingers against the desk as I wait anxiously for my girlfriend’s arrival. I try to pick up the case file to observe it again but I just can't focus. Every time I try to read about the details of these dead prostitutes, my brain drifts off to something else and then I realize that I didn’t process anything I just read and I have to start over. All that is happening is that Amelia is dropping off my go-bag, saying hi to everyone, and then she’s going to leave. Simple. That’s all.

"Hey kid, you good?" I jump at the sound of Morgan right next to me, leaning over my shoulder and totally invading my personal bubble.

I nod quickly, shifting away from him so he’s not almost on top of me. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Morgan furrows his eyebrows and he doesn’t let up, moving around me to lean against my desk. “You’re being very quiet. That isn’t like you. And if-”

"Amelia!" Penelope squeals, running over to Amelia as she comes through the glass doors, throwing her arms around my girlfriend. This shrieking catches the attention of everyone in the bullpen, and even Rossi pops his head out of his office to see what's going on. "Is the cat out of the bag?" She holds Amelia out at arm’s length and then her eyes dart to me and then to the team around them. Penelope laughs nervously. "Well if the cat isn't out of the bag then I've definitely just ripped a hole in the bag for you!"

"It's okay," Amelia laughs, moving away from Penelope and holding my go-bag out to me. "Here."

"Thank you. You're a lifesaver," I set the bag on my desk chair and move beside Amelia so the vultures can’t swoop her up first. Amelia places her hand on my back and rubs up and down to soothe me, out of the view of anyone else.

Morgan’s eyebrows shoot up as he saunters over, adorning a smirk that I’ve seen far too many times. “Who’s this? A super secret girlfriend?”

"Um, yeah," Amelia steps closer to me and holds me even closer as I gesture to every member of the team, "this is Amelia. Lia, this is Alex, Morgan, JJ, Hotch is in his office, Rossi, and you already know Penelope."

When I look back down at Amelia, there's something in her eyes that I've never seen before. Her nostrils are flared just a little bit and her jaw is flexed, and she stops rubbing my back, grabbing a fistfull of my shirt instead. I wouldn't even peg this as nervousness to meet the team, this is just weird. I've never seen her act like this. She looks, I don’t know, maybe frustrated? Angry? Pissed off? All my profiling skills go out the window now and I’m absolutely baffled with the way she is holding herself right now.

Rossi is the first to speak up after the introductions, pointing his finger at Amelia. "Have we met before? You look familiar." Everyone, including myself, is utterly confused. Is that what I saw in Amelia's eyes? Recognition? Has she met Rossi before? But how?

"Um," Amelia clearly grasps for words as she retracts from my embrace, "it was really great to meet you guys but I've got somewhere to be so hopefully I'll see you all soon," and with that, Amelia gives them the fakest smile I’ve ever seen from her and speeds off towards the glass doors and eventually the elevator.

Without a second look at any of my bewildered friends, I run after her, catching up just as she's pressing the down button. "Amelia, what the hell? What was that? Do you know Rossi?"

She keeps her head forward, facing the elevator doors. Amelia huffs, tugging on the straps of her backpack and I just barely catch sight of her lip quivering before she twists her head away from me. "Just be careful on your case, okay? Keep being smart and be safe and come home in one piece and-"

"Please don’t change the subject. What’s going on? Why are you like this?” 

"Just drop it, Spencer," Amelia shakes her head at me and sniffles, obviously combating the tears that are threatening to fall. "I don't know who that Rossi guy is. I'm going to lunch with Jenna and I don't wanna be late or else she'll get annoyed."

"You go to lunch with Jenna at Camille's which is a ten minute and thirty two second drive from here. You meet at noon and it's only 11:30 so you have plenty of time. You're not gonna be late," Amelia shakes her head once more and that’s when the anger starts to rise in me. I’m just trying to comfort her and figure out why she is acting like this and she is blowing me off completely. It’s unfair to me. It’s unfair for Rossi to act like he did and it’s unfair for Amelia to blow me off when I’m trying to help. That’s all I want to do- help. 

“Please, Spencer. Don’t.”

I retract from Amelia, my jaw tightening. I watch helplessly as she slips into the elevator doors before they fully open. She slams her finger down on a button and her arms rise to hug her waist, head hanging down. If we were under normal circumstances, I would rush forward and scoop her into my arms and shower her in affection and listen to every word she has to tell me. But now there’s nothing from her and too much from me- too much frustration, too much confusion, and a lingering feeling of betrayal. 

I scoff at Amelia’s disappearing figure and turn on my heel, marching back into the bullpen. All eyes are on me as I snatch up my satchel and go-bag, stomping right back out of the bullpen and down the stairs.

///

THIRD PERSON

///

"Well, that was really weird," JJ grimaces, dragging her feet back to her desk and collecting her go-bag and case files.

"That was weird," Penelope pouts, shoulders hunched forward, watching helplessly as everyone’s faces match JJ’s when they start to scatter. "Guys, Amelia was the girl from the video chat like, six months ago that was braiding my hair, and she has never been like that. She has come by here a few times to leave things for Spencer and to hang out with me when you’re gone. She isn’t like that, guys! She’s funny and energetic and really friendly and not like that!"

"Rossi, do you actually recognize her?" Morgan asks next, turning to his colleague, interrupting his reverie. The group of profilers regularly steal glances out of the glass doors where the young couple is arguing in front of the bureau elevators.

"I do," Rossi continues to rack his brain for an answer. But matter how many times he recalls Spencer’s girlfriends face and continues to think Amelia, Amelia, Amelia, he can’t put a situation to the person. Spencer storms in and then out again, leaving a tense silence in the bullpen in his wake. Everyone shares wide-eyed glances at Spencer’s seemingly dramatic reaction.

"One of you check up on the kid, but Garcia come with me,” Alex goes rushing after Spencer and follows him down the stairs while Penelope hurries after Rossi, all the way to her cave and into her perfectly adjusted seat.

"Sir, what are we doing in here?" Penelope wonders, her fingers instinctively at the ready on her keyboard.

"Do a background check on Amelia. I'm sure you know her last name," Rossi leans over Penelope’s shoulder, watching her type in Amelia Stark. "I swear, I know that name."

“But why? You know I hate digging through someone’s personal life,” Penelope whines, slapping her hands over her eyes when information pops up about her friend. She feels Rossi lean even closer to her screen and she whines out. “It’s different when I do this alone because I do it out of love! This just feels wrong.”

“Then just forget I’m here. I know this name,” Rossi mumbles absentmindedly.

"I started doing a background check on her when she was here and no red flags immediately popped up," Penelope slowly drops her hands from over her eyes and starts to read the information that feels much more invasive now. "Okay, Amelia Stark- she's 25, moved to Virginia when she was 21, right out of college. She went to Carnegie Mellon and studied fine arts. She's an artist and an amazing one, at that. It looks like she has a couple low grade arrests in here but it's all for graffiti and street art. Friends all bailed her out and that was it, she was never charged with anything. Ooh, bad girl."

"No, no," Rossi shakes his head, "that can't be all. Keep digging."

Penelope whines out when she continues to type, slower than ever before in an attempt to drag out the invasion. "I don't know what you're expecting me to find, Sir. I also don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for so it makes it harder to- oh," Rossi gets even closer to the screen at the sound of her inflection change. "Many, many sealed court records- is that what you're looking for?"

"Unseal them," Rossi demands.

With a few simple yet hesitant clicks, Penelope unseals the court documents and Amelia Stark's entire life is opened up to them.

"This is how I know Amelia," Rossi breathes out. "Do you think Reid knows?"

Penelope shakes her head slowly, her eyes filling with tears as she buries her face in her hands. The air suddenly feels much more tense, they both realize, and a low level of guilt fills Rossi. "No, definitely not. He would've realized why you recognized Amelia if he knew. She definitely hasn't told him. And when I was joking about doing a background check, she seemed kinda nervous, but I just thought it's that kind of nervous we all get like when we're driving and there just happens to be a cop driving on the same road as you- not because of this!"

Rossi tugs his keys out of his pocket and taps Penelope’s shoulder. "Send me her address and tell Hotch I'll meet you guys in Texas."

///

AMELIA

///

I slam my apartment door shut, sending a sloppy and incoherent text to Jenna to cancel on lunch. I can barely see through the tears in my eyes as I try to hang up my keys on a hook and put my backpack beside it. My hands are trembling and even when I stop moving around so I can ground myself, the shaking doesn’t stop.

There's a sharp knock at the door, and I debate not even answering. I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound of my cries, trying desperately to wipe my cheeks but it doesn't really work. There’s no hiding my red face and my melting makeup, I’m sure.

"Amelia, I know you're in there. I hear you crying."

I grind my teeth when I hear the voice behind my door, anger bubbling up inside of me and it sizzles over before I can even think to stop it. I stomp over and throw open the door, finding Dave standing there with his hands casually tucked in his pockets. "Are you kidding me? You followed me home?"

"I knew you were familiar," Dave strolls right past me, glancing around my apartment like he was invited in. I don’t bother to close my door when I follow him into the living room, slapping his hand away when he reaches out to touch a canvas on the wall.

"You can't just show up and waltz in and start touching things! You're supposed to be on a plane going to god knows where! Get out, Dave. This is absolutely ridiculous!"

"Does Reid know?" Dave turns to me and crosses his arms, his face stoic and emotionless. I try to keep my tears from falling but it's a useless feat. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to answer but then all I can do is shake my head no. "No? You haven't told him? You've just lied about your entire childhood? Amelia, that's-"

"I didn't lie about anything!" I shout at him. "I just didn't tell him anything at all and he's fine with that because he cares about me. I don't need you fucking that up, Dave. So thank you for ruining my relationship because Spencer is pissed at me and he probably will be for a while and it's all your fault." It’s a wet kind of anger, the kind of anger that leaves you sobbing and grasping for words. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that I could lose Spencer over this situation, a situation that I’ve spent our whole relationship trying to avoid. 

"You can't blame me. I did recognize you. I just couldn't place why," he tries to defend himself because now he suddenly realizes that he interfered with something he shouldn’t have. He recognizes my tears and my anger and how Spencer stormed off and he sees that this is his fault. He has ruined our relationship.

"Dave, seriously, can you just get out? You're supposed to be on a plane by now," I march back to the door and place my hand on the handle- another invitation for him to get out of my apartment.

"Actually, we're going to Texas," my head slowly trails up at Dave's words and I meet his eyes for the first time since I was standing in the bullpen with my hand in Spencer’s. "We're going to Mike's police department. He called us in."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Dave nods at me, "I'm sure it'll be nice to see him again after all these years."

"Can you, um," I let go of the door and run into the kitchen briefly, picking up a box that I've yet to put a label on, "can you give this to him? I meant to mail it but I didn't get around to it. I sent the kids art a couple of months ago but they wanted more."

"Of course. Anything else you want me to tell him?"

"To be careful," my voice cracks, more tears streaming down my cheeks. Imagines of Mike coming home with bruises and stitches surface in my mind and they make me shudder. But then my mind switches and I’m suddenly picturing Spencer in stitches with a black eye and a busted lip and I slap my hands over my eyes as if that would make the mental images disappear. "To be really careful. And please, make sure Spencer is careful too. He's upset and-"

"I'll look out for the kid. I always do, we all do." Dave takes the box from my hands and pats my shoulder in the least comforting way possible. "Listen, I really am sorry that I exposed you like that. I didn't mean to do that, I just genuinely recognized you and I didn't know why. I had Garcia pull up court records and then I remembered why I knew you."

"Don't tell Spencer, please," I practically beg. "I-I don't ever wanna have to tell him but I know I do eventually. Besides, he'll probably," I roll my eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh, "look at what color socks I'm wearing and then be able to tell me my entire life story."

"Spencer's good at that," Dave gives me a small, proud, almost fatherly smile and starts heading out the door. "I won't tell but you shouldn't keep it a secret for too long. Like you said, he's good at what he does and he'll connect the dots. I'll bring this to Mike and tell him what you said."

"Thank you," Dave gives me one more smile before heading down the hallway. Before he can get out of the building, I stick my head out of the doorway and yell, "and don't ever show up at my apartment again."

SPENCER

"Did I miss some event in the bullpen before?" Hotch asks nonchalantly as he walks onto the jet.

"No," I answer coldly, not even looking up from the book in my hands. I’ve been staring at the words for almost half an hour yet I haven’t processed a single one. My mind is racing too quickly to actually attain any new information, no matter how hard I try. It doesn’t help to feel everyone’s gaze on me, their eyes boring into the back of my head. It’s a feeling that is far too suffocating for me to ever feel comfortable until they have averted their eyes elsewhere.

"I heard some commotion but I was on the phone," Hotch keeps talking and it enrages me that he’s supposed to be the best profiler on this team, considering he’s lead profiler and unit chief, but he can’t tell from the tone of my voice that this conversation needs to end. He just ignores my tone of voice and moves on with his life. I guess I should be used to that by now.

"Just some chatting. No commotion," Morgan gives me a look as if to say ‘how did I do’ but I just look back at my book.

"Alright,” Hotch accepts Morgan’s answer with ease, but not mine, “well, let's call Garcia and get started."

The rest of the plane ride is awkward and tense. In his normal fashion, Hotch ignores the tension and gives us all directions on where to go when we touch down in Texas. I only contribute a few facts here and there but I stick to attempting, and failing, to read my book. I just can’t seem to bring my attention anywhere but Amelia and Rossi. The questions swirl around in my mind and they won’t stop, no matter how many times I splash cold water in my face or try to have a conversation or read the case files. The questions keep swirling.

Why did Rossi recognize Amelia? Why did Amelia leave so quickly? Why was she on the verge of tears? How come Rossi isn’t on the plane right now? Is Amelia okay right now? Is she mad at me? Is our relationship over because of this one moment? Why did Rossi recognize Amelia? Why did Rossi recognize Amelia? And why did she recognize him too?

I don’t say a word as we land and split up in SUV’s, heading off to our assigned locations to start working. I cling to my distraction book and try, for the millionth time, to process the words on the page. But my brain is filled with nothing but Amelia, Amelia, Amelia.

"Agents," the sheriff comes up to us when we enter the station, shaking Hotch's hand before reaching for mine. I just lift my arm and wave at him, not even bothering to attempt a smile. The sheriff gives me an unsure look but drops his hand back to his side. "Thank you guys for coming out."

"It's our pleasure. I'm Agent Hotchner, this is Dr. Reid."

"Well, I'm Sheriff Michael Stark, you can call me Mike. I know your unit chief, Matt Cruz, and I asked him to bring this case to you because I could really use the help. We've never seen anything like this before. But I'm not gonna lie, I thought there'd be more of you," he leads us further into the police station and gestures to the very full evidence board against the wall. Oh gosh, that has to be refined and taken apart. Great, even more work for us. 

"There's other agents are the crime scenes now," I tell the sheriff, eyeing the evidence on the board that is incorrect or won’t help the case at all. Sometimes an enthusiastic police force is really helpful but in times like this, they’re doing more harm than good. I start pulling down all the evidence that won’t help and throwing it aside.

"Great," Mike watches me destroy the evidence board for a moment before plastering on a smile, “I’ll gather the force, and let’s get working.”

///

THIRD PERSON

///

Dave Rossi, go-bag and cardboard box in hand, struts into the Texas Police Department. Some officers smile with recognition as he passes them but he ignore all the attention. He’s used to it, anyway. Rossi goes straight to the sheriff’s office, knocking firmly on the door.

The door flies open and a smile instantly stretches across Mike’s face at the sight of an old friend and colleague standing in front of him. "David Rossi. Wow. It's been quite a while."

"That it has," Rossi steps inside the office, setting the cardboard box on the first chair he sees.

"I thought you retired a while ago. You published those books, I've got them all in my house.”

"Came back. The retired life wasn't for me," Rossi explains, then taps his hand on the top of the box. "I ran into a certain child of yours and she gave me this to give to you and your other children."

Mike's eyes widen when he finally notices the box, tilting his head to read Amelia’s writing on the side. "You saw Amelia?"

Rossi turns his head towards the window and gazes into the main room in the station, where Hotch and Reid are chatting over the evidence board. "Have you met Dr. Reid yet?"

"I have," Mike nods, already slicing the packing tape on the top of the box. "He's-” his hand freezes mid-air, eyes widening in realization, “oh my god. Amelia told me she was dating an FBI agent that works for the BAU. I can't believe I didn't put it together!"

"But Spencer doesn't know. I asked Amelia and she hasn't told him anything."

Mike scoffs dramatically, pulling out a large canvas and admiring the beauty of Amelia’s artwork. She has never disappointed him, Mike thinks. "How is it possible that she hasn’t told him anything? Her tattoos are basically the story of her life. She's got tattoos of her brother and a bunch for her mom, she has a cactus, a bee, a turtle. Her arms basically tell her life story."

"My guess?" Rossi suggets. "It's been cold. She avoided it because she was wearing long sleeves. But she asked me not to say anything so I have to ask you the same. She swore to me that she would tell him eventually so I don't want to come between them."

Mike’s gaze moves out the window again, eyes locked on the quick-talking doctor who politely refused to shake his hand. "She’s gonna have to tell him soon. But right now, we have better things to worry about. Someone’s killing prostitutes,” Rossi nods and saunters out of the office, joining his teammates, getting nothing but a cold, hard glare from Spencer. But Mike doesn’t see this interaction because he’s fishing though his desk drawer, searching for command strips to hang Amelia’s painting on the wall outside. 

/// 

SPENCER

///

I stare out the window as Morgan drives, studying all the sites that pass us. I know that Amelia grew up in Texas. I'm not entirely sure where because she never specified where, but I wonder if she ever walked these streets as a kid. I wonder if she held her brothers hand when they walked to school, or if her mother held her hand and dragged her away from a toy store. Or maybe an art store would be a more apt location for Amelia to get attached to. Did she draw her first picture while sitting on the curb and waiting for the bus? Did she run down these sidewalks with her friends in the middle of the night after they all snuck out? 

"Reid. Hey kid! You're spacing out again," Morgan reaches over and lays his hand on my shoulder. I quickly shrug his hand off my shoulder and pat my cardigan down on my shoulder to correct the wrinkles Morgan just created.

"Sorry, sorry. Was someone saying something?"

Deputy Bennett in the backseat speaks up, "I was just telling Agent Morgan about Joe's Bar and about Dinah. She's the woman who runs it."

I do what I can to keep my mind off Amelia. I miss her immensely, more than usual. We used to text each other constantly while I was away on a case but I haven't heard from her at all, and that breaks my heart. She's my sunshine, and if I don't have my sunshine, there's no way I'll be able to think straight. Her short and sweet texts that I always seemed to get when I’m away quickly became the things that encouraged me to work harder. They encouraged me to solve the case so I could get home and see her smiling face again. But now there is none of that. Not a single ‘hope everything is going okay’ message or a phone call that she swears she didn’t mean to do or a silly selfie of her in her studio or sitting on the couch. There’s no motivation and no encouragement to get home.

But I do what I can in the bar to distract Dinah and the deputy while Morgan goes to talk to the other girl. I don’t even remember her name. All I know about her is that she looks hauntingly similar to Amelia and I can’t get myself to look at her a second time. I ask meaningless questions with answers from Dinah that are all lies. But whatever Morgan is doing seems to be working so I keep going, trying to seem casual and nonchalant.

Morgan comes stutting back with his hands in his pockets, giving me a shrug as if to say got nothing, but his eyes tell a different story. "Alright, Dinah," the deputy says, "we'll get out of your hair now."

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help, gentlemen," Dinah says with a completely fake southern charm, returning to cleaning the bar with a rag.

I tuck my head down as we get back in the car and drive back to the station. My head floats back to the clouds, and I barely hear Morgan and Bennett's phone conversation with Hotch about Preacher Mills that they now have in for questioning. I pull my phone out a check for any messages from Amelia, only finding one from JJ, asking if I'm feeling okay. I ignore her, putting my phone away again and huffing in frustration.

"Lady troubles?" Bennett chuckles from the backseat, patting my shoulder in the same horrible way that Morgan did. "I don't need your profiling skills to see that from a mile away."

"I'm fine," I snap as Morgan pulls into a parking spot at the station and I’m stumbling out before the car is even in park.

I have every intention of dashing inside and ducking my head in a book to distract myself, but before I can even get to the evidence board, I stop in my tracks. That painting wasn’t there when we arrived. This is a new addition and it looks similar to the art I have on my desk at Quantico. I take a step closer to the canvas and my blood runs cold when I spot Amelia’s distinctive signature on the bottom right of the painting.

“You like the art?” Bennett is at my side once more. “We get a new one every few months.”

“Um, uh huh,” it takes me a split second to remember how to speak. I’m just so utterly confused. I thought I was close to learning every about this woman and she keeps surprising me. Amelia sells her art to museums and rich people who fill their houses with legendary artwork. What is this painting doing in a police station in Texas? “Where do the paintings come from?”

Bennett shrugs in an annoyingly casual way. “Sheriff Stark’s daughter is an artist or something. She sends them over here sometimes. He’s got a house full of little brats at home. Don’t know how he does it,” he chuckles and leaves me high and dry, even more confused than I was before. 

///

The case turns out to be much more complicated than we imagined. At first glance, we seem pretty convinced that the preacher is the unsub. But when all the evidence lines up, it’s clear to see that he is being set up. So we set off on the mission of trying to find the preacher to tell him we know he’s innocent.

"Preacher's car was just spotted at El Lobito's diner," Hotch relays the information to us. "Reid and Blake, Sheriff Stark is gonna drive you over. JJ and Morgan, take another car over. Rossi and I will coordinate from here."

Everyone nods as we pull on our vests, adjusting guns and double-checking ammunition. We rush off to our cars and speed off to the diner, sirens blaring. I refrain from checking my phone, knowing I need to clear my head if I'm about to go into a potentially dangerous situation. I can’t think about Amelia right now. I can’t think about her laying on the couch in her nearly-sheer pajamas with a glass of wine in her hands. I can’t think about her wrapped up in her duvet and sleeping without me. I can’t think about her crying over the event in the bullpen without me there to hold her. No, I can’t do that. I need a clear head. 

We arrive at the diner and we're all eyes, searching for movement from inside. Lorenzana comes up to us, her hand poised on the gun on her hip. "He's been in there a good five minutes now," she tells us. "No movement inside yet."

"What about patrons?" 

"Diner's closed," Lorenzana says.

"Looks like two entrances," Blake says, her hands on her hips. "The question is, is he alone?"

"Uh, guys," Deputy Bennett says just as JJ and Morgan run up beside us, "I've got movement. We should move in. We should move in right now."

"Actually," I glance inside and see that all the preacher is doing is peering through the window. Bennett needs to calm down and stop being so dramatic about everything, "we're better off establishing the perimeter first. Then we can open up a line of communication." 

"I think you're right," Sheriff Stark nods, effectively dismissing his defensive officers. "I think we should-"

Suddenly there's the loud screech of a gunshot and everyone ducks as an initial reaction. Sheriff Stark falls to the floor in front of us but Blake and I duck behind the open door of our SUV. The preacher starts reining bullets down on us, haphazardly aiming for anything and everything. So much for telling him we know he’s innocent and bringing him in for protection. 

"Blake," I tap her shoulder, gun drawn in my other hand, "we gotta get the sheriff."

Without another word to me, she runs right into gunfire. She grabs one arm of the Sheriff's arms and starts to pull him, but clearly can't. My eyes go wide and the gunshots pound against my eardrums as I push myself away from the car.

"Blake!" I’m screaming as I shield her from the bullets coming her way. There’s no doubt she would have been killed by any of those bullets. She should be more caeful. She has a husband to return home to.

There is a searing pain in my neck and it takes me a second to process that I've been shot. The world starts to move in slow motion when I crumble to the ground and stare up at the dark sky. There are tears falling down my cheeks and stinging my gunshot wound, but the stars seem to calm me. I wonder if these are the same stars that Amelia used to look at with her brother. I wonder if Amelia is looking up at the stars right now. 

Amelia. My girl. I can't find it in me to have an ounce of anger in me towards her anymore. I'd give anything to be able to hold her right now as my body fills with indescribable pain. I can feel her hand in mine and her laugh echoing in my ears, drowning out the gunfire around me. How does she do that? Her laugh always overpowers everything around us. I swear I can feel her lips on my face and I can feel her hands on my skin, and I want to reach for her. I can see her right in front of me, leaning over my weakening body and whispers sweet nothings in my ear. Is she actually here? I can feel her. Why is she in Texas? Why is she in the middle of a shootout? Why isn’t she wearing a bulletproof vest? She needs a vest. She needs it now.

With the little amount of strength I have left, I reach my shaking hands for the velcro on my shoulders, tugging on them. I tug, and tug, and tug, and nothing happens. The vest won’t come off. I can’t save her. I need to save her.

I'm jolted out of my beautiful daydream when I feel myself getting dragged against the pavement. My view of Amelia dissipates and I cry out, reaching my hand out for her. There's a face in front of me but I'm looking past them, smacking my lips together in an attempt to speak. But then the person is gone and I'm left alone again. I try to call out for my girlfriend, who has disappeared, still tugging at the velcro on my kevlar vest. She needs it. I need to save her.

I sit there helplessly for what feels like forever, hands shaking and covered in blood. The sound of gunfire starts to warp in my ears and it seems to get more and more distant by the second. Maybe the gunfire is stopping. Maybe Amelia is safe. If she isn’t safe then I don’t know what I would do. I try to speak again, but my jaw just goes slack and suddenly I can’t move it anymore.

Blake rushes over and crouches in front of me, pressing her cold hands against my bleeding wound. The temperature of her fingers jolts me in the most shocking and aggressive way, a gasp coming from my wide-open mouth. "Medic!" She shouts. "We need a medic now! There's too much blood!"

I can feel blood dripping down my body and my head is starting to get fuzzy. The blood soaks my kevlar but it doesn’t stop me from continuing to pull on the velcro. I don’t feel bullets flying past me anymore but Amelia still needs it. But the more energy I put into tugging at my vest, the more parts of my body start to render useless. My fingertips tingle and my eyes start to roll.

"Hey, you're doing great. Just keep your eyes open and on me," Blake tries to give me a smile, but it never reaches her eyes. "Eyes on me, eyes on me," I try to trail my eyes up to hers, but they just cross and my head starts to pound. "Spencer! I need your eyes on me!"

My vision starts to sparkle and then those sparkles burn out until all I see is black.

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[sharperthewriter]

Chapter 4 of Possible-y Utah

Chapter 4 - Final Day

(May 25, 2006, 6am)

The sun began to rise over the city of Middleton. Rays began to creep through the windows of Kim's room. She woke up and rubbed her eyes.

"Yes!" she exclaimed in triumph, "Final day of junior year is here!"

Kim got ready for school. That day, she was wearing baggy dark-denim Club Banana overalls over her green croptop shirt. She hooked up both straps and had the bottom hems rolled up. To finish the look, she had on giant gold hoop earrings, minimal makeup, a simple CB heart charm bracelet, and white sneakers. Her hair was in a ponytail.

"Hey, Mom and Dad! I'm going off to school!" she exclaimed. "I got my new scooter all ready to pick up Ron!"

Both James and Ann were in their work outfits.

"OK, Kimmie-cub. Don't forget to put on your helmet!" James insisted.

"And remember..." Ann added while sipping her coffee. "Safety first!"

"I won't! And I'm glad we bought an extra helmet for Ron." Kim said, grabbing the second helmet and her backpack.

"Ron! Hurry up!" Kim insisted to her BFBF. She parked her scooter at the Stoppable house.

"I'm coming, KP! Just as soon as I put my shoes on!" Ron said while putting on his sneakers. Rufus scurried out of the door.

"Thank you! I just don't want to be late for school!" Kim replied, handing Ron his helmet, "Nothing is more humiliating than getting detention on the last day of school!"

Ron buckled on his helmet and Rufus also put on a little helmet of his.

"Hold on tight, Ron!"

"You got it, KP!" Ron said, holding his girlfriend around his arms and feeling the denim of her overalls.

Kim zoomed off from the house on the scooter.

(7:45am)

The readerboard sign in front of Middleton High said, "Summer is here...so please read!"

Kim parked her scooter in the student parking lot.

"That should do the trick, Ron." she replied in getting off the scooter and removing her helmet.

"Yeah, KP, next time, we're going to try and get our full drivers license!" Ron said, also getting off the scooter.

"I wouldn't exactly worry about myself getting the license." Kim snickered, darting her eyes to Ron.

"Hey, I shall get through 'Barkin's Course of Death' this time!" Ron insisted.

"And not wreck the student driver car...again?" Kim asked. "Insurance is not going to cover the damages this time around."

"The twentieth time is the charm! Mark my words, I am gonna get my license!" Ron vowed.

The two of them came up to Kim's locker, which was located in D-Hall, aka the science wing of the school.

Kim then opened it. Wade came onscreen in the built-in monitor.

"Hey Kim! Glad that today is the last day of school?" the tech genius asked.

"Oh yeah, number 11 is going to be in the books for a few hours!" Kim replied, "Not unlike you, of course."

"Who breezed by grades 10-12 before my own eighth birthday!" Wade boasted.

"And I'm just...you know...getting by with C's." Ron nervously chuckled, brushing his hand against his hair.

"It feels a little strange, though, Wade." Kim said, "Ever since Drakken's Diablo plot, I've only had three take-over-the-world plots (one each by Dementor, Monkey Fist, and DNAmy) and foiled them all. Maybe the villains have finally given up evil."

"I wouldn't put it past them, Kim." Wade said, "You may never know when a plot or a kidnapping of a scientist would come up."

"We'll keep an eye on things, Wade." Kim replied, "Right now, though, I only have one final exam to get through first."

Then a familiar snarky voice came from behind.

"Well, if it isn't Farmer Possible and her farm-hand!" she taunted.

"Bonnie, I do not have time for your lame puns just because I wear a pair of overalls!" Kim impatiently muttered.

Bonnie, as it turned out, was wearing a pink croptop and baggy carpenter denim jeans that was showing off half her Club Banana yellow boxers. The back pockets were on her thighs. They were held up only with a loose CB belt. She completed the outfit with white sneakers, giant hoop earrings and a CB hat that she was wearing sideways.

"You know, Bonnie..." Kim continued, "...you really do look like a fool with your pants on the ground!"

"It's the latest fashion trend for mean girls like me!" Bonnie flaunted.

"And totally sick and wrong!" Ron complained.

"Bonnie, I would love to criticize your poor decision on how to basically wear pants..." Kim muttered, slamming her locker door, "...but I got an exam to take!"

"Whatever, Possible." Bonnie scoffed, "I will tell you something after you take your lousy exam!"

"Fine, Rockwaller!" Kim snarled back.

With that, Kim and Ron both left Bonnie behind to go to the World History class for her final exam to take. Ron had one more in Geometry.

(3 hours later)

Kim and Ron were now sitting in study hall after taking their last exams.

"Did you think I did well, KP?" Ron asked. He had taken geometry for his last exam.

"I'd say you'd barely pass, Ron." Kim explained, "Remember our study night together?"

"Yeah...wasn't that the night that you put a blanket on me because I was sleeping my head on your dad's desk?" Ron questioned.

"It was. You look so cute sleeping like that!" Kim replied.

"Awww...thanks, Kim!" Ron smiled at her GF's words.

"Ugh...why do you two have to be so mushy?!" Bonnie asked dismissively. She was sitting on her CB boxers and the back pockets of her baggy jeans were on her thighs. The bottoms were scrunched up on her shoes.

"Because we are a couple, Rockwaller, that's why!" Kim muttered at her rival.

"I'll make a sweet bet with you, Possible." Bonnie said, "I'll bet you $50 that you will not last one summer with Stoppable as BF material!"

Kim, sensing her hyper-competitive nature, agreed.

"What are going to be the terms?"

"If I win the bet and you break up with Stoppable, I promise that will not bully you anymore during cheer practice in senior year." Bonnie said of the terms if she came out on top. "And, on top of that, you will have to give your cheer captainship to me AND you will have to scrub the toilets of the locker rooms.

"And if I win, you will have to mop the entire gym floor! And your dad will have to drop the indecent exposure charge against Ron!" Kim decreed.

"Don't blame me if he got his boxers accidentally snagged by briar patches!" Bonnie countered. "But I will honor your bet...IF you win."

"You are so on, Rockwaller!" Kim exclaimed, fire raging in her eyes that was as red as her hair.

Ron looked at her in worry, "KP...you're putting a lot on the line here!"

Kim scoffed at what he said.

"Ron, don't worry! We'll still be tight by the beginning of senior year! Bonnie will definitely lose!"

Barkin then entered the room.

"Okay, people, since Miss Carol is not here because she overslept, smashing her alarm clock with a cartoonishly-giant hammer the night before, I will be taking over this study hall." he proclaimed. "Since all of you students are done with your exams, we are going to sit quietly for the next 45 minutes until the class is dismissed."

The clock then began to move its hands slowly and then fastly as if it had been hours.

"Clock's busted again..." Barkin muttered, tapping it on its side and adjusting it to the correct time: 11:19am.

Kim could only hope that the last 45-minutes of her junior year would fly by.

(12 noon)

The final bell finally rang, signaling the end of the junior year.

All of the students in study hall began to cheer and throw their papers in the air to celebrate. But just before they could exit the classroom, Barkin then got in the way of the door. The cheering subsided for now.

"Uh...Mr. B? I thought we were dismissed." Ron insisted.

"Stoppable, do you not remember that the bell does not dismiss the class, I do?" Barkin muttered. After a tense 30 seconds between the two, Barkin stepped aside.

"Okay, you're dismissed!" Barkin sighed, opening the door. The cheering resumed from the students.

Both Kim and Ron got out of Middleton High now that their Junior year was in the books. To celebrate, Kim decided to unhook the right strap of her overalls so that the strap dangled behind her back but kept the left strap up.

"So what can we do to celebrate now that we have 88 days of freedom?" Kim asked. "You know...as BF and GF!"

"KP, if you know me, I'm thinking along the lines of JP Bearymore's!" Ron replied with a smile, putting his hand on his girlfriend's shoulder. "Their new multi-level go-kart track just opened up and it's badical!"

"Mmm...hmm!" Kim smiled, "Maybe a movie afterwards? The newest installment of the John Glond superspy series is already out! And you know how much I love the spy thriller!"

"You're totally, on, KP!" Ron said, grinning.

[drunk-onsunlight]

Day #8 of Promptmas

Chapter 8:   How lucky that you dropped in (So nice and warm)

Summary:

Morgan knows Peter likes MJ and she is 67% sure MJ likes Peter too so she is trying to help them to get together for real and plans a snowball fight that ends up in them laughing a lot and holding hands

Read on Ao3

Notes:

This chapter was the hardest to write. I wanted Morgan to show her own little world and what she experienced with the Starks and the Parkers and it ended up hell hard to make! But at the end it was very satisfying to me Also, while I'm psting this I'm writing the last chapter of this fanfic and I have so many mixed emotions. Happy because I managed to end a project and sad because I loved the journey with Peter and MJ so much. Hope you all have a great Christmas week and stay safe!

Concept: Outsider POV & Snowball fight & Board games Shenanigans

Dialogue: “Do not throw that snowball” & “It’s hand holding season”

December 23rd

Morgan’s POV

I know Peter likes MJ, it’s obvious. Everybody can see it, except the two of them. And I think MJ likes Peter, well, I’m not entirely sure but 67% at least. I have known Michelle since she moved in with Peter and at first she was a little quiet and she didn’t speak too much but that changed when we took the time to speak to each other. I saw everything that Peter said MJ is, beautiful inside out, intelligent, passionate and many other awesome things. And Peter is an amazing person too, that’s why he is my big brother.

A few weeks ago I heard my dad talking with my mom about how much Peter had changed. He was dating Gwen and everyone loved her, even MJ, but things went wrong on a fight and she died. After that, Peter had a bad time, May was really worried about him so my dad convinced him to start a new life, rent and apartment, find a roommate, keep working with the Avengers projects and get that master degree he always dreamed about. Then MJ needed a roommate and their new life started.

Peter was happy now, he spoke about MJ non-stop and another bit about Ned, Betty and May. He developed new suits and web shooters and his college was going great. Mom said that MJ seemed like a nice girl and that was good that Pete was better after what happened with Gwen.

Suddenly my dad told my mom he thought Peter and MJ were dating because it was impossible that they weren’t with all the things Peter told him about. For him, lots of things sounded like dates and a normal couple life, so maybe I confirmed that their plans seemed like dates and the way they looked at each other was more than platonic.

I never said they were dating but my dad decided to make a last minute holiday party and invite them as a couple, then, they could confirm or deny if they were dating or no. For my surprise, they say yes. Now I know it’s a fake relationship but their reason to do it was actually really weak. And that’s why they need to see they like each other! So here we are, all of us sleeping next to a beautiful bonfire.

Pete and MJ are cuddling under a blanket. Pete is hugging MJ from the back, his hand is covering MJ’s, their legs are intertwined and MJ’s curls are all over Pete’s face. I’m dying to see what happens when they wake up and find themselves in each other arms. This is gonna be fun.

----

Update: yes! It was very funny! Peter woke up first and tried to take MJ’s curls out of his face so she woke up and when they saw their legs and how close they were, they both jumped like they were touching fire. I couldn’t hold the laugh

“You guys need to work on those details if you want to play like a normal couple”

“Good morning to you too Morgan” Peter said and MJ just made some unintelligible words

“Morning, Pete. Coffee MJ?” I know she is not a full person until her morning coffee. Peter told me that

“Ujum”

“I will take that as a yes. Help me, Pete?”

“Let’s go” we rise from the sand and moved inside the house to find May on the kitchen with my mom

“Hi, mom! Hey, May!” I hugged my mom and then then May while Peter greeted them

“Do we have coffee? MJ needs some caffeine or she will look like the Grinch” Peter was quietly hugging May

“We do. Peter, bring her some coffee and go find something warm. According to the news we will have snow in a few hours and we don’t want anyone getting sick” May told him and he moved away from her, served the hot coffee on a mug and went out again

“May, I’m really happy for Peter. Michelle is a really nice girl and they look really happy together. It’s really good to see Peter so bubbly and himself again” My mom told May and I could see she was speaking sincerely, we were all really worried about him after Gwen died. While they speak I search for something to eat when they talk caught my attention again

“I have known MJ since forever. She is my best friend’s niece. They even were our neighbors for a few years. Michelle has always been a lovely girl but her mom is not so nice I’m afraid. She was always judging Michelle for her life choices. That she was reading too much, that she wasn’t being girly enough, that she never had a boyfriend, so MJ kind of closed herself to everyone, except Ned and Peter” Wow, with May saying all of that I realized how lucky I am that my mom and dad always encourage me to be myself and not some made up version of what people want me to be. They know the weight of being a young Stark, heir of a massive company and part of a group of super heroes. People has expectations, some of them unrealistic

“I’m going to see if they want to play some board games with me. You can join if you want” I wanted to spend more time with Peter’s friends. I know how important they are for him

“Ok little one. Have fun. Maybe we will join later” I went out of the kitchen leaving my mom and May talking about lunch. I haven’t notice the hour but we definitely miss breakfast.

“Let’s play some board games!!!” I went out of the house and screamed my bright idea to Peter and MJ that were looking at the sea. They were snowflakes falling already

“No monopoly. That thing gets savage every time we play it” Peter had played with the Starks and let’s say maybe some houses were thrown at some point in the game. My dad is very competitive

“What about Uno? I like that one” MJ rose from the sand and cleaned her clothes before starting to walk with Peter to the house

“I love it! Set the table on the living room while I invite Ned and Betty”

“I’ll go to the kitchen. We missed breakfast. You need food, fruit, all of that, peanut!” Peter was an amazing brother, seriously.

I went to Ned and Betty’s room, knocked a few times and invite them to play. The door opened immediately

“Of course we would like to play, Morgan! We’ll be there in a minute” Betty looked amazing on a lovely red and white dress. She was all Christmas outfit. I took the opportunity and changed last night clothes before getting back to the living room with Peter, MJ, Ned and Betty.

“You can go take a quick shower and change while we set everything to play” Ned looked hype to be playing board games. MJ was right, they were huge nerds

“Thanks! I have sand all over my hair and it’s getting cold” MJ started to walk but I could tell she wasn’t sure about where to go

“Ned, can you show Peter your bathroom? I will show MJ the bathroom on the other room so we can play” I took MJ’s hand and lead her to the second floor where all the rooms were. Ned and Peter were following us. We parted ways but Ned had to take Peter’s bag so he could change his clothes.

Fifteen minutes later we were all together around the coffee table on the ground, ready to play. They all were speaking about how cold the day was but how beautiful everything looked. I could hear my mom with May in the kitchen laughing while my dad and Uncle Happy tried to cook something for everyone. A little secret it’s that actually Uncle Happy is very good at cooking and my dad learned a few things from him.

“Ok. Let’s start!” Ned was mixing the cards

“How many cards for each one?” Betty took the cards from Ned’s hands and started counting them waiting for an answer

“Seven” Peter and MJ spoke at the same time and the three of us just looked at them. I think Ned and Betty really believed the fake relationship thing, or maybe they are playing along too. Betty counted the cards and started to place them face down on the table in front of everyone

“Rules? Real ones or normal ones?” I had to ask them. People love to play by their own rules and totally ignore the real ones

“Wait, what?” Peter looked really confused

“Yeah. This game actually has point system. The first one to get 500 points wins” I explained to them and I could see everyone trying to make sense of the system points

“What about the Uno scream thing? Do you have to shout too the number of points you get? This doesn’t make any sense” MJ was examining her cards next to Peter

“You know what? Let’s forget about the points and play like everybody does” The points are actually quite weird and that’s why everybody ignores them

“Deal” The four of them answered at the same time. They are so weird

“Peanut? Would you like to go first?”

“Yeap. No problem” I chose my first card to be a yellow 8. Next to me was Betty and she went for a Red 8, it was Ned’s turn and he dropped a Red 4. It was Peter’s turn, he quickly picked a Red 9, put it on the pile and looked at MJ. She analyzed her cards and then the little pile, after a few seconds she decided to drop a Blue 9. It was quite an eventless round and it was like that for a maybe fifteen minutes. After that, things started to change. It was Peter’s turn and he dropped a +4 card.

“Are you kidding me, Peter?” MJ placed her two cards face down on the table and looked at Peter with amusement

“Oooohhh. This is finally getting spicy” Ned told Betty and me. I wanted to see what could happen

“I’m not letting you win, Em. Sorry” Peter looked everything but sorry

“I can see that! You are a terrible boyfriend” MJ looked indignant taking the 4 cards

“Now it’s getting personal” Betty spoke softly to us

“I’m a terrible boyfriend?! We are competing against each other, no couple rules apply”

“Peter that’s low” Ned was trying not to laugh at their exchange

“That’s no low, that’s clever” Peter was trying to defend himself and it was my turn to play so I helped MJ a little. I dropped a Reverse card and it was MJ’s turn again. She looked at me and I gave her a wink, I may have seen a few of her cards while she did her little tantrum at Peter. She took her card and before placing it on the pile turned to look at Peter. A Skip card was now at the top of the cards and Peter’s face showed his indignation. He had two cards on his hand, he was ready to scream Uno and he couldn’t

“Morgan!” Peter looked at me with even more indignation

“What did I do?”

“You traitor! You knew MJ had that card! You two are plotting against me! What is this? My little sister and my girlfriend ruining my game!” He was such a drama queen

“You just said it, loser. No couple rules in this game” We couldn’t help it, we started laughing at them. The round kept going with some change in colors and Betty giving me a +2 card. We kept playing and MJ took revenge on Peter several times and they made a little drama over who was the bad one and kept playing until Betty won.

“I hate this game” Peter dropped his two cards on the table for everyone to see them

“You sore loser!” MJ dropped her two cards and congratulated Betty

“You are a terrible player” Peter was actually very competitive and hated to lose

“Then let’s solve this tie” I had an amazing idea when I looked at the outside

“What tie? Betty won” Ned wasn’t seeing what I saw. They both have two cards, they played against each other, not with all of us and they were tie

“Yes. But they have two cards each. To know who’s a better player then I DECLARE A SNOWBALL FIGHT!” I started running to the door that leads us to the outside. Grab some snow and waited for the four of them to go out to kick Peter on the head with the ball I had in my hands

“Oh. It’s on, little one! You are going down! But first go find some gloves or you are going to freeze” He was extremely protective and totally right. So I ran back to the house, my gloves were on my room so I had to run the three stairs up, open the drawer on the nightstand and ran back to the beach.

When I walked outside the scene I found was adorable to say the least. Ned and Betty were throwing snowballs at each other while laughing and a little further Peter was on his back on the floor laughing while MJ prepared a huge snowball on her hands. She got ready to throw the ball but Peter got up off the ground

“Do not throw that snowball” Peter wanted to sound serious but his face was glowing with happiness and fondness

“No? What you gonna do to stop it? Loser” MJ’s voice demanded a challenge and Peter loves a challenge.

“Try me, Cat” New nickname I guess. But that changed MJ’s attitude, not a bad change, her back straightened and her feet started to move like she was floating in the snow. She balanced her snowball on both hands and threw it at Peter. He did a back flip and landed perfectly on his legs, a very Spider-Man move. If he was still trying to hide he was Spidey from MJ, he was doing a terrible job, but MJ didn’t look surprised either. I will have to talk to Peter later about that.

“Snowball fight!!!” My dad screamed and started running to make some snowballs and he threw one at me so I joined the fight with all of them. Soon, all of us were throwing snowballs at each other and laughing. After what seamed two seconds and not half an hour, more snow started to fall. My gloves were wet from the snow and everyone looked frozen but happy. I really love this season, it brings so much happiness to lots of people it’s amazing.

“Ok everyone!!! Let’s go inside! We need to eat something and change clothes” my dad shouted and everyone started to drop the snowballs they had in their hands, except MJ. She threw her snowball at Peter who had his back to her. He turned around and made a small snowball at threw it back at MJ but she moved away and he missed his shot. MJ was laughing so hard she was bent with her hands on her knees, suddenly she dropped to the ground and kept laughing

“Peter? Why is she laughing so much?” I had to ask. I was kinda worried. I have never seen MJ laugh so much

“She is mocking me, but don’t know why specifically” Peter was looking at her fondly

“Your hair is a mess!” MJ was calmer but some giggles escaped her mouth. She was right, Peter’s hair was all curls. He looked like he just got out of the shower and tried (and failed) to make his hair presentable

“Come on MJ. You are delusional, you need some food and warm clothes” He offered his hand to help MJ get up. When she was back on her feet they let go of their hands “You seriously need some warm clothes and something to drink, your hands are freezing”

“Well, the good thing is that it’s hand holding season and my brother can be a good boyfriend and hold your hand to help you warm up. Right Ned?” Ned turned around and I beckoned him to say yes

“After that weird exchange I’m worried about MJ’s health so please Peter, help my dear best friend to not lose her mind because she is freezing” God, I love Ned with all my heart

A little reluctant Peter offered his hand to MJ and with some visible doubt she took it. They seriously need to act more normal around each other when interacting as a couple if they wanted everyone to believe it. Actually, everyone thinks they are together but they needed to make the effort to keep everyone believing that.

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

Thanks to @spiderman-homecomeme for Promptmas

[firesoulstuff]

Captain Canary + “I… I think I have fangs.” 

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12378978/chapters/66345329

.

.

It has been a long, weird day, and all Sara wants to do is collapse into bed.

Today they went back to Transylvania 1735 and wouldn’t you know it, they ran into a pack of vampires. Worse than that, they ran into a pack of bloodthirsty, new member recruiting, not taking no for an answer vampires. It was a long, exhausting fight even by Sara’s standards, and in the end their possible lead on Savage turned out to be a bust.

It wasn’t a total loss, they did manage to save a good number of potential vampire victims, but telling that to an overtired crew full of bruises it’s hardly a comfort.

Sleep, sleep is a comfort.

Knock, knock

One that will apparently have to wait.

Sara groans as she rolls herself out of bed. She trudges across her dark room over to the door and when she opens it to find Leonard standing there his stiff and uncomfortable demeanor is the only thing that keeps her from demanding to know why he is waking her up.

Well, at first.

He just stands there, and sooner or later one of them has to say something.

“What?” She asks, her voice flat, and he opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again.

“I…” He eventually stammers, “I think I have fangs.”

She raises her eyebrows, suddenly much more awake. She reaches out and grabs him by the wrist and tugs him into her room.

“Lights Gideon.” She orders, “Did you get bit?”

The way is lips part but no sound comes out… That isn’t reassuring.

“Snart.”

He sighs, and with some evident reluctance he shrugs off his jacket, tosses it over to her bed, and then rolls up the sleeve of his sweater to reveal two shallow puncture wounds on his forearm.

She takes hold of his arm gingerly, examining the bite.

“It wasn’t on my neck.” He says, “I didn’t think…”

“No shit you didn’t think.” She grumbles, and releases his arm.

She takes a step closer, very much into his space, and she’ll think later about how he doesn’t normally allow people this close. She brings her hand up to cup his jaw at the same time she rises up on her toes, “Open.”

He does, opening his mouth wide, and she frowns.

“I can’t see.” She grumbles, sliding her hand down to his shoulder but not backing up. “Sit down.”

He glances back only long enough to make sure he knows where he’s going, then he backs up and does as she’s told him.

There’s an arch to his eyebrows, a surprise, maybe he wasn’t expecting her to be this clinical. He was probably expecting her to drag him to the med bay and let Gideon do the whole doctor thing while she scolded him for hiding the fact that he got bit by a vampire from the team.

She will be scolding him for it later, make no mistake about that, but Gideon can’t help things like this so first thing comes first.

He opens his mouth for her again without prompting, and with one hand resting on his jaw to keep him steady she peers inside. Sure enough, his canine teeth are unnaturally long; their points threateningly sharp.

“Dammit.” She whispers, and just to be sure this isn’t a joke she takes her free hand and traces a finger carefully along the edge of one of the fangs. It’s real, of course, and so she takes both her hands back and he closes his mouth.

She sighs, her hands on her hips as she tries to figure out where to go from here.

He’s still staring up at her, his expression dumbfounded.

“Yeah, you definitely have fangs.” She informs him, and he blinks. “What?”

“You… You’re telling me I’m a vampire, and with complete confidence in that you put your hand in my mouth?”

“Please.” She scoffs, “I’m already undead and controlled by bloodlust, what are you gonna do to me?”

He continues to stare up at her, and fine, he needs time to process this. So she’ll give him that and while he processes she crosses the room to her closet and slides open the door.

“We’ll need to move fast.” She informs him, throwing the words over her shoulder. “When the bloodlust takes hold of you the first time it’s almost impossible to resist, trust me.”

She jumps when she turns around because he is right there, barely an inch from her, and she is going to choose to believe it’s due to his usual silence as a thief and not any emerging vampire abilities.

She steps past him, depositing her clothes onto the bed.

“Where are we going?”

“To get supplies for a cure.” She answers, “It’ll take a few hours to make, and considering you’re already at the having fangs part of things we might not have more than that.”

“You seem to know a lot about this.” He says, and finally she stops moving.

She turns around slowly, and the expression he meets her with is every bit as worried as it is curious.

“I told you, I’m already undead and controlled by bloodlust.”

She could leave it at that, but the words come out so earnestly and that is not entirely unintentional. Even though her bloodlust is common knowledge on the ship, she’s gotten the feeling ever since she got on board – and especially after today – that Rip doesn’t know the half of what she is, and she hasn’t been too keen on brining it up.

But Leonard, she thinks as he takes half a step closer to her, is starting to figure it out.

“That pit…” He drawls, and he leaves the rest of the question unasked.

She nods, “Where do you think the first vampires came from?”

She can see his breath hitch. His eyes roam over her, suddenly looking at her in a new light. She gives him that for a moment, but she hasn’t forgotten that they need to get moving. They need to undo what’s happened to him, before it’s too late.

“The League?” He asks, “Weren’t you with them before you were put in the pit?”

“They’re The League of Assassins.” She reminds him. “It wouldn’t work if all their victims came back to life.”

He nods, and Sara can’t help but to smirk at the way his eyes are lingering on her lips, trying to solve a mystery hidden behind them.

“I had my fangs pulled.” She explains, “My canines are fake.”

His eyes widen, and while she is sure he believes her she opens her mouth anyway, and with a flick of her tongue and a gentle pull of her fingers she removes one of her two false teeth. She holds it out for him to see before she puts it back into place.

“Any other questions?”

“You go out in the sun.” He says, readily.

“Yeah, the whole sunlight is weakness thing is a myth. They thought the monster only coming out at night was scarier for movies.”

“Immortality?”

She shakes her head. “That’s Ra’s using the pit over and over again to prolong his life.”

“Turning into a bat?”

She snorts. “Nope.”

“Invulnerability?”

She shrugs, “The energy from the pit leaves us a little more durable, but it wears off eventually, which is why Ra’s uses it so much.”

He nods, “Garlic?”

“The main ingredient in the cure.” She says, “Which will only work if you take it before you’ve sunk your fangs into something, so let’s go.”

She turns around and starts to change, behind her she hears him shuffling about.

“We have reflections.” He says, and after pulling her new shirt over her head she turns to see what he’s talking about.

He’d turned around to allow her to change, and in doing so caught sight of her mirror on her back wall, and their reflections in it.

“Yeah.” She answers, moving now for her pants. “It’s the silver that old mirrors were backed with that started that.”

She kicks off her pajama pants and pulls on her jeans, then gets her socks on and turns back to get her boots.

“Vampires are, like, hyper-allergic to silver. Don’t ask me why.”

Leonard is watching her the entire time as she ties her boots, right up until she straightens up.

“You ready?”

“What about you?”

She sighs, “It’s too late for me.” She says, her arms crossing over herself. “When I first came out of the pit I didn’t have a soul; the bloodlust basically had free reign of me for over a week. I bit a lot of people in that time.”

His eyes flit away from her for the briefest fraction of a second and she knows just what he’s thinking, and she won’t stand for it. She steps closer, her hand moving back to cradle his jaw. He meets her eyes, his gaze soft.

“Please Len.” She says, moving her thumb to stroke over the corner of his mouth.

She tries to think of something else to say, a way to tell him she doesn’t want any more darkness on his conscience.

But he nods, the movement small and his gaze never breaking from hers. She smiles, and then in the spur of the moment she rises up on her toes and kisses his cheek.

“Let’s go.”

[quickspinner]

Second Chance - Ch 1 The One That Got Away

Hello friends! Continuing posting my backlog of work that was posted to AO3 but not Tumblr. You can filter the backlog tag if you don’t want to see these fyi.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Summary: 

It's been years since he last saw Marinette. He's a successful rock star and she's been traveling the world chasing her dreams. Luka thought he had grown up and moved on, but when Marinette lands back in Paris and seeks him out, it takes about ten seconds for him to figure out he can't resist a second chance.

Aged-up, total self-indulgent Lukanette fluff. There will be some implied sexual content later on but nothing explicit. 

The beginning of this first chapter comes from the last chapter of I Will Give You the Stars, and while you don’t have to have read that one first, the two stories do go well together.

Luka tossed his sweaty hair back from his face and looked out at the blinding lights. “Okay guys,” he said into the microphone, picking idly at his guitar. “I think we’re gonna take it down a bit for this next song. But first, can we bring the house lights up please?”

Used to his quirks, the lighting crew responded quickly, dimming the lights in his eyes and turning up the lights on the crowd in the packed stadium.

“That’s better,” Luka said, skimming the crowd of fans waving and screaming wildly. “I know this might be kinda weird if this is your first show with me, but I just like to see you. Put some faces to my audience. This is a two way street, you and me, and I don’t wanna forget that.”

A small crowd of girls off to his right screamed in rehearsed unison, “WE LOVE YOU LUKA!” 

He grinned toward them and winked. “Love you too, sweethearts.” As they shrieked excitedly he looked at the banner they were holding up, decorated with birthday cakes and glittery letters. “Seventeen huh? Nice. Happy birthday, babe.” The girl in the middle of the group wearing a sparkly tiara put her hands over her mouth, eyes huge, while her friends practically mobbed her. Luka chuckled and returned to his perusal of the crowd, meeting as many eyes as he could. Somewhere a group of fans screamed for Juleka and out of the corner of his eye he could see her raise a lace-gloved hand to blow them a kiss. 

Suddenly he locked eyes with a familiar sapphire gaze and the rest of the stadium disappeared. 

“Well hey there, beautiful,” he said softly, ignoring the several ladies in the line of his gaze who swooned or screamed. She knew who he was talking to, a slow smile spreading over her face. “I didn’t know you were back in Paris.” His grin widened as he took in the faces around her. “Wow, check it out Jules, looks like a bunch of old friends came to see us tonight. Awesome.” 

He tore his gaze away with effort, and looked up to the balcony. He couldn’t see faces up there as well, but he let his gaze rake across slowly before nodding. “All right. Now that we know each other, let’s get back to the music, shall we?”

The lighting crew recognized their cue, and the blinding lights were back as the stadium went dark. Luka stepped back from the mic for a moment to take a deep, centering breath, focusing on the vibrations of the stage that he could feel even through his heavy boots, the feel of his guitar in his hands, and the song he could still hear ringing in his mind even though he couldn’t see her anymore.

Then his fingers began to move, and he stepped back up to the mic.

***

They didn’t get to meet their friends that night, which was just as well as far as Luka was concerned. He wasn’t ever at his best right after a show, sweaty and sore and exhausted and he definitely didn’t want to see her looking like he’d just been run over by his tour bus. But Rose—bless beautiful, sweet, romantic Rose—Rose had his back. When Juleka wasn’t looking, Rose slipped a piece of paper in his hand that had a phone number, a time, and the name of his favorite café. “I knew you’d be free in the morning,” she whispered. “I figured you wouldn’t mind missing out on the sleep.”

“You’re the best,” he whispered back, slipping the paper in his pocket as Rose glanced anxiously at Juleka.

Marinette was already waiting outside the next morning as he walked up, looking like she’d walked straight out of his dreams. She caught sight of him and smiled, turning to face him as his heart skipped a few beats.

He was a grown-ass man and a legitimate rock star, and that smile still did things to him. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Luka grinned, opening his arms. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hi Luka,” Marinette smiled, coming into his arms to hug him and then rising on her toes to exchange cheek kisses. “The show last night was great.”

“It was great to have you guys there,” Luka said, letting her go and opening the café door for her. “I have to admit, I’m getting kinda sick of big shows. I miss connecting with people the way I did when I was playing smaller venues.”

“The price of being a famous rock star,” she said as he pulled out a chair for her at his usual table.

“Not that famous,” he protested, sitting down across from her.

“Pretty famous,” she grinned, leaning her elbows on the table to look up at him. 

He shrugged and grinned at the ground. “Yeah, okay, maybe.”

Marinette smiled. “I’m glad it hasn’t changed you, Luka.”

“So when did you get back in town?” Luka asked, ready to be done talking about himself. 

“Two nights ago.”

“And the first thing you did was come see my show? I’m flattered.”

“Really, I was lucky,” Marinette admitted. “The others got tickets ages ago, before I knew I would be here, but Mylene’s at that stage of pregnancy where she’s falling asleep all the time, so she gave me her ticket. I think Ivan was relieved, actually.”  

Luka picked up her hand. “Marinette, any time you want to come to a performance you know you just have to ask.”

“Says the man who’s changed his number four times in the last year,” she teased. 

Luka winced. “Yeah this whole fame thing really puts a crimp in my social life sometimes. I have a whole new appreciation for what Adrien went through in school. At least not that many people recognize me like this.” He gestured to his casual outfit, black jeans and a plain grey tshirt that were a far cry from his elaborate stage costumes and makeup. “Sometimes people recognize the hair and the ink but mostly I get left alone as long as I keep a low profile.” 

Marinette rested her chin on her hand and smiled up at him. “I like the hair. Must be cooler on stage this way, and it photographs better. Your eyes are too nice to be hidden all the time.”

“So my agent told me,” Luka sighed, running his hand over the short hair beneath the blue tinted locks falling from the top. “And you’re right, it is cooler. I like yours too,” he added, reaching out his free hand to tweak a loose strand on her shoulder. “You look good with it long. Anyway, I’m sorry about the phone thing. I’ll give you my assistant’s number before we leave, she can always put you through if I have to change it again. I don’t want to lose touch with you over something so stupid.”  He realized suddenly that she was blushing, watching his thumb move over her fingers. Fortunately the waiter approached just at that moment, giving him an excuse to let go of her hand casually. 

Luka was a regular here and he chatted easily with the staff as they came and went with water and menus, but he had a hard time keeping his eyes off Marinette. Damn, after all this time she still affected him the same way, drawing him in like a magnet. Like him, she was dressed casually, in jeans and a fitted shirt with a wide neck that left a distracting amount of her freckled shoulders and collarbone bare. She was everything he remembered, just matured, mellowed, more. He’d known in his gut that he was on a high-speed train to heartbreak the minute he’d locked eyes with her in the show.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing since you left,” Luka said as soon as the staff had left with their orders. 

“So many things,” Marinette breathed. “Luka, it was amazing, I learned so much and I got to see and do so much.”

“Tell me,” he murmured, leaning on the table, already entranced by her passion. God, he needed his guitar, he could write whole albums on the look in her eyes right now.

She brightened, pulling out a battered sketchbook. Luka moved his chair around the table to be next to her and propped his chin in his hand, letting her voice wash over him as she took him on a tour of her dreams.

“I’m not boring you, am I?” she asked suddenly, looking up at him with slightly wide eyes that reminded him of the nervous girl who’d walked into his room all those years ago.

“Not in the least,” he told her and he knew he must be giving her some kind of look because her blush spread down to her neckline. 

He was saved from doing something reckless by the arrival of their food. Clearing his throat, he moved back to his end of the table and asked about her parents. 

They talked about their families as they ate, the crazy things Anarka got up to that Luka had to bail her out of (sometimes with the police, once literally when there was a mishap on the boat), how Marinette’s parents had coped with her two-year absence, what their mutual friends had been up to. 

And she told him about the things that hadn’t been so great about her trip, the jet lag and the long hours, picking up from one city and moving on just when she’d finally gotten comfortable, the frustrations of frequently having conversations in English when it was neither conversant’s first language. 

“Every time I’d get depressed I’d feel ungrateful,” she told him, idly picking apart what was left of her food. “Like, so many people entered that competition and out of everyone they chose me to have this fantastic experience in all these different design houses, and there I was acting homesick and lonely.  And...meeting so many new people made me realize how rare and precious my true friends are...and how maybe there were some I didn’t appreciate enough.” She glanced up at him through her lashes, biting her lip, and he swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say. 

Before he could, she pushed her plate away and abruptly changed the subject. “So, when are you going to put out another calendar?” She ginned.

Luka groaned and put his face down on the table. “Please tell me you didn’t see one of those.”

“Oh I very much did,” she laughed. “If I can find it once I’m unpacked maybe you’ll sign it for me. October was my favorite, though July was probably the most...hmm...inspiring.” She laughed as he put his arms over his head, partly to cover the brilliant red that he was sure covered his neck and ears. “Luka Couffaine, are you actually embarrassed?”

“Thoroughly,” he said from beneath his arms. Sighing, he forced himself to sit up, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “I try really hard to pretend that whole thing never happened, honestly. I felt like such a—“ He shook his head.

“Was it really awful?” She asked, her amusement turning to sympathy.

“I hated every minute of it,” he said bluntly. “I didn’t want to do it but a bunch of things happened at once right then and my family really needed the money. And I figured, better me than Juleka, who knows what they’d have wanted her to do and her fans are way scarier than mine.” He made a face. “Don’t tell her I said that, she’ll get all pissed at me for getting all big brothery on her.”

“I’m sorry, Luka, I didn’t know.” Marinette reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I won’t tease you about it anymore.”

“Thanks.” His mouth quirked up at the corner. “October, huh? That was the black and white one, right? That one wasn’t so bad. At least it was artistic. And I got to wear actual pants.”

Marinette giggled. “And you made them look good. It was a good picture. Sexy, but soulful. And with the guitar and the ripped jeans, it felt like I was seeing you, and not a stranger who kinda looked like you, you know.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Honestly it wasn’t the pictures I minded so much, my agent kept the really embarrassing ones out of it and we made sure they were destroyed, just I could have lived without being treated like a doll without any feelings or dignity.” 

“Mmm, I see that a lot. A lot of designers and stylists stop seeing models as people. I guess knowing Adrien for so many years made it hard for me to think that way. The designers I was shadowing got really frustrated with me because of it.”

“Maybe I’m hopelessly optimistic but I think your way will pay off in the end.” He winked at her. “I can guarantee that if I ever have to do anything like that again, I’ll be calling you to be my stylist. If this tour weren't already under contract I’d hire you on the spot.” 

Marinette kicked him under the table. “You’re biased, Luka.”

“Always have been when it comes to you. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Luka,” she began and then hesitated. He waited patiently, though curiosity was eating him alive as she licked her lips and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Listen I know you’re really busy and your schedule’s kind of crazy and it was already super nice of you to make time to have lunch with me—“ Luka had to cover the smile tugging at his lips with his hand at this very Marinette ramble. “But I was wondering, if you might want to have dinner with me, um...as a date.” She swallowed and looked up at him and he could not believe that she thought for one second he might actually say no.

“Hell yeah,” he grinned, reaching out to take her hand. “I mean I do have to check my schedule, but I’ll make time. I’ll call you? Probably not tonight, but no later than tomorrow evening, I promise.”

His phone alarm went off in his pocket before he’d even finished speaking, and he sighed, pulling it out.

“You have to go?” Marinette smiled crookedly.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, silencing the alarm and putting his phone away. He reached across the table and took her both hands in his. “It’s been great seeing you again Marinette. I’m so glad we’ve been able to catch up.” He kissed her hands as he stood up. “I’ll call you soon, okay?” 

“Was everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Couffaine?” 

Luka turned, grasping the hand offered by the suited man behind him. “Fantastic as always, Gerard, and how many times do I have to tell you to call me Luka?” Gerard smiled under his mustache but didn’t reply. “Please let the lady have whatever she’d like for dessert on my tab, okay?” 

“Of course, Mr. Couffaine.”

Luka rolled his eyes and smiled back at a Marinette one more time with a quick wave, her own smile warming him as he turned to go.

The minute the studio's car service picked him up, his phone was in his hand.  “Lucille,” he said when his assistant picked up, hoping she couldn’t hear the idiotic grin on his face. “Yeah, I’m on my way, but have you got a few minutes? Can you run me through what my schedule looks like? I need you to free up an evening for me in the next week.”

It took more than a few minutes, and he had to cancel three meetings and move back a rehearsal, but he could not bring himself to care. 

Because when the one that got away suddenly walks back into your life and asks you out, who gives a crap about meetings?

[fatandnerdy30]

Land of the Avengers chapter 2

“May?” Peter tossed his bag into the corner of his school apartments, listening for his aunt moving about the house. “May, you home?” He bounced through the kitchen and down the hallway where he found his aunt working on something at her computer, headphones in and speaking to someone.

“That’s fine. Just keep an eye on her vitals and BP, okay?” There was a pause as the other person’s lips were moving. “No, no, she hasn’t had a problem with her oxygen since she was admitted, so you should be fine. If not, call me and I’ll walk you through it on my way. Janet, you’ll be fine, I promise. Just do what you have to do and you’ll be great. Okay, talk to you later.” The screen went blank and May sighed, pulling out the earphones.

“You got a call from your apprentice?”

Peter’s voice made the woman scream and twirl around in the chair so fast she actually spun herself in a circle. “Peter! Oh my god don’t do that!” She held a hand to her heart and gave her grinning nephew a mock glare. “I swear you’re out to kill me.” Getting up, she gave the young boy a hug. “How was school today?”

The boy was practically bouncing in May’s arms until she finally let go. “I have something amazing to tell you! Captain Potts suggested to Colonel Richards for Harley and I to take the flight test early!” His face was beaming so much it was almost glowing. “He scheduled the test for next week! And that’s not the best part, either. Colonel Richards told us we can take one person with us, and since you’re family…can you maybe take a week off?” He looked a little worried when May’s brow furrowed.

“Next week? Isn’t that a little last minute? And why a week? I thought the test was a one day thing.” What would cause the man to schedule a test so soon? Maybe she should call the school.

“Well, that was the only placement open in the next two years, and the colonel really thinks we’ll do amazing! And he also said we deserved a break, so the test would be the flight to wherever we’re going, he hasn’t told us yet, and back, but there will be a small vacation in between, so that’s why it’ll be a week. Can you come?”

“I don’t know, honey. That is really short notice, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to get that time off, but, I do have some vacation coming up, so I’ll talk to my boss. I can’t-” She laughed at the way Peter was practically bouncing in place. “I can’t promise anything, so don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

“Yes, May.” The boy was still grinning though. May’s boss was sweet on her, so he would so approve this vacation. He wouldn’t want Skip dating her, but if he could pull some strings, he would definitely allow it. “Okay, I’m gonna go call Harley and tell him the good news! Bye May!”

“Peter, I told you….and he’s gone.” She hung her head. “I swear that boy is too hyper.” She smiled all the same and turned back to her computer to get some work she’d brought home done before taking her nephew out to dinner to celebrate.

                                                       *~*

That weekend found two boys stepping off the monorail above the city and stopping to look up at the intimidating white and silver building towering over Peter and Harley. The afternoon sun glinted off the windows, reflecting it back onto the clouds to create a mirrored world of light. It was a sight to behold.

“I wonder how tall it is?” Peter asked, staring up at the top of the buildings that looked as if it were scraping the sky itself.

“It’s thirty-five stories tall, so about three-hundred-eighty feet in total. But, that doesn’t include the sublevel floors. I read it last night on my comp-tab. It’s really interesting. Did you know this is also where the city gets its power, including our school?” The younger boy just rolled his eyes.

“You’re a dork. Let’s go.” He laughed and pulled a pouting Harley behind him. They had just walked in and Peter stopped, causing Harley to collide with him. “Woah!! Look at this! How cool is this!” Peter’s voice echoed through the lobby, making a few of the employees smile and giggle. “I mean, we’re in the actual Baxter Building! I wanna see every floor before we go to the simulation floor!” Harley shook his head, pulling the boy’s head under his arm.

“No, we’re on a time schedule, you doof! We only have a week to prepare for our flight.”

Peter pouted and tried to pull his head out from Harley’s grip. “I know that! I just got excited, that’s all.” They walked to the receptionist, who was giggling at Peter’s outburst, making the boy blush and look down.

“Good morning boys. How can I help you today?” She smiled at Peter, who had looked up. “Hello Ma'am,” the older of the two spoke in a deeper voice. “We’re here to use the simulation room. We have our flight test in a week.” Harley puffed out his chest, but his voice remained the same volume.

“Oh really? Aren’t you a little young?” The woman pushed her brown locks behind her ear. The boy couldn’t be older than fifteen, possibly younger. and Jenny couldn’t allow kids upstairs just because they said they were given permission. If she did that, every kid would have to be let in, and she could never handle that.

“He’s not,” Peter said lowly. “But, I was offered to take the same test together as Harley by Colonel Richards himself.” He then pulled his backpack off his shoulder, digging around and showing the woman his pass. “He even made us these passes.”

“Oh my,” the woman stared at the pass, her green eyes wide in shock. They were actual building passes given to the members of Richards’ team themselves. “I had no idea the special visitors Mr. Richards would be so young. Let me just scan your badges and you can go right up.” Peter and Harley handed the woman their passes, both boys looking proud, as they should. They would be the youngest pilots on the sub-orbital force in history, especially Peter.

“Okay, everything checks out. You boys train hard, okay, but remember to take frequent breaks. I’ve heard that room can be intense,” the woman informed, her face serious.

Harley nodded. “Thank you, Ma'am. We will.” He began walking, Peter following, looking around with wide eyes.

“I still think this is awesome,” he said for the hundredth time. “Have you asked your mom to come on the trip?”

The older boy’s face fell as he nodded. “Yeah…but she can’t get off work on such short notice.” He had really wanted her to come, but she couldn’t. The diner wouldn’t have been able to cover her shift for a whole week. His mom did seem sorry to have to miss his test, but she promised to tell everyone at the diner, this way they could celebrate with them after hours. “But, I understand. I’m not some little kid,” he pushed Peter playfully through the elevator doors as they opened.

“Hey!” The younger stumbled, catching himself on the wall. “I’m not a little kid! I’ll let you know my fifteenth birthday is in two months, thank you very much.” He put his nose in the air.

“Okay, okay. Your aunt coming?”

Peter’s eyes lit up and he nodded. “Yeah! She said she’d talk to her boss, but it looks good! So, she’ll be able to video every second of the trip and show it to your mom when we get back!”

Harley nodded, watching the numbers rise until the elevator beeped and the doors opened.

                                                          *~*

“Woah…” was all Peter could say as the two stepped through the doors. The technology on this floor was amazing! In the middle of the floor sat a large dome shaped room that took up more than half the floor. “This…this is so cool.”

“I know, right?” Harley was looking around, his eyes wide with wonder, when suddenly a gruff voice snapped them both out of their stupors.

“Hey, there’s no kids allowed on this floor! It’s dangerous!” A hulking bald man made his way over to the boys, his footsteps quick. “Waddya think you’re doin’ here, anyway?”

“We…we have passes,” Peter stuttered, holding up his blue pass in a shaking hand. “The colonel invited us. For simulation practice…” His face was red and he was looking at the floor.

“Lemme see those.” The man grabbed Peter’s pass and studied it. “Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. You must be the little geniuses Richie told us about! How ya’s doing?” He clapped both boys on the shoulder, catching their winces. “You wanna get straight to it, or do ya’s wanna have a tour first?”

“Umm…a tour would be great, Sir,” the oldest responded.

“Tour it is. I know you’s don’t have a lot of time, so let’s get rolling. Introductions first. Susie! Over here!”

A blonde woman looked up from the keyboard she was furiously typing at. “What is it, Ben? I’m kind of busy.”

“Well, you can take a second break. These are the kids Richie told us about. Introduce yourselves.”

Peter and Harley stared up at Susan Storm as if they were seeing the northern lights themselves. “Miss Storm…I mean, Dr. Miss-I mean Dr. Susie…Oh, I’m dead.” Peter’s face turned an even brighter shade of red and he hunched his shoulders down until just the tips of his ears were showing. Dr. Storm chuckled as she took her glasses off.

“Susan is fine. And let me guess, the red one is Peter,” the boy nodded. “And that must mean this is Harley.”

“Yes Ma'am. It’s nice to meet you.” He held his hand out and shook the woman’s hand.

“Good to see one of you is together,” the woman said jokingly. “Don’t be so nervous, Cadet Parker. I don’t bite, I promise.” She smiled softly at the boy, who nodded.

“Yes Ma'am.”

“Good. Now, my job here is to measure spikes of electromagnetic fields that appear in the upper atmosphere.” She pointed to three screens that had small lines jumping up and down on them. “This measures the amount of activity, this tells me where they are and this one measures the frequency,” she turned to each screen respectively. “I see nothing new, so this is a good thing for suborbital pilots. It helps keep them safe and us out of trouble.” She smirked at her joke.

“Do you have any other jobs?” Peter asked, watching the lines on the screen jump.

“Yes, actually. I often have to go into suborbital space in order to get a better reading of the ozone for safer flights, and to experiment on new ways in order to create quicker flight plans safely.”

“That’s kind of awesome, actually,” retorted Peter, staring at the consoles. “Do you send your findings to the pilots or to the radio tower?”

“Excellent question. I actually send it to both, plus the pilots also get a vibration meter just in case any falling debris from space comes into the atmosphere. It’s happened quite a lot, and before this, a lot of crafts actually went down. We had a whole legal battle until we came up with this idea.”

“So it measures any kind of disturbance around the plane?” Asked Harley. “How does it do it? I mean, it’s got to have a high frequency to detect even the most subtle of vibrations in the atmosphere around the entire plane. There’s got to be hundreds of tiny cameras and wave sensors hidden in every plane!”

“Yes, actually,” Susan’s eyes were alight with wonder. “No wonder why Richard likes you two. He loves students that are full of questions.” She smiled down at the two. They really were a little young to be taking the flight simulation test, but her fiance had been talking about these two nonstop for days. Ever since Pepper had mentioned it, he’d been all gung-ho about it. It really was cute to see him excited about something.

“Don’t let Suzy-Q here bore you guys,” came another voice as the door opened. “I actually have the best job.”

“Great,” Ben sighed. “Kids, this is the younger-and dumber- sibling of Dr. Storm. Johnny, introduce yourselves to the cadets.”

“Heys, kiddo’s. Nice to meet you, I’m Captain Storm. The youngest pilot the Sub-Orbital crew has ever seen.” He made a muscle man pose. His uniform was a dark blue, as was everyone’s, but his matched him better with the darker skin. It might have been the shaved head, or his attitude, Peter didn’t know. All he knew was that he liked Captain Storm.

“Hello sir,” the younger boy said, saluting him.

“Hey, hey, no sirs around me, okay? And put that hand down, don’t want you poking an eye out. Just call me Jay, okay?”

Ben snickered. “He always wants to seem cool and hip in front of the kiddies.”

“Hey, I am hip, man! It’s just hanging around you old dudes all day makes me miss seeing young faces.” Jay then looked around the room. “Oh yeah…where’s their tour group? I was hoping to let the little group to take some photos of me being the awesome pilot I am.”

The two scientists looked at each other before bursting into laughter. “That’s a good one, hot head!” Ben cackled.

“What?” Jay cried angrily.

“There is no tour group. It’s just these two. They’re here to use the simulation machine,” Sue responded. “Oh, and I would rethink that 'youngest pilot ever’ title, because these two are taking the test in a week’s time.”

The pilot’s face fell as he stared at the two youngsters in front of him. There was no way! “When did this happen?”

“Colonel Richards told us earlier this week, Mr. Storm.” Harley felt pride well in his chest at that. And Ben noticed, grinning at the look on the boy’s face.

“Well, I think we should let them get to training,” the bald man said, clapping Johnny on the shoulder. “Come on. You can show off later, or maybe the kids can tell you how to do your job better.”

Johnny sent him a look that made Ben throw his head back and laugh, pulling the young man out.

                                                      *~~~~*

"This is the flight simulator," Dr. Storm showed the boy's the dome-shaped room in the middle of the floor. "The main reason why there are so many generators in here because of this. It takes a lot of energy to run the simulator. Probably enough to run the entire city for three years."The boys were stunned. It took that much energy to run the simulation machine?

"That's insane," Peter whispered. "But, isn't that bad for the environment? I mean, the generators make so much heat and the gasses they're known to produce have been proven to deplete the breathable air and-"

Susan held up a hand with a smile. "I know all of that, but Richard actually developed these especially with that in mind. It's a new kind of energy, renewable energy. It's something the world has never seen. Actually, you're the first people outside this building to see it." Her watch let out a beep and she turned her wrist to see the time. "And now it's getting late, so you two better get in there. You have today and tomorrow to practice before your test. I'd wish you boys luck, but I'm sure you won't need it." She opened the door latch.

"Just so you know, there is a water dispenser and a bathroom. People tend to spend a long time here and I got tired of having to clean up after they left." She sent a glare to the doors her brother went through. "So, I had Reed put in a bathroom." She gave the boys a tight smile. "Go on in. And we'll be monitoring you from out here, so we'll be the first to know if there's a problem."

Peter and Harley gave a nod in unison and stepped into the chamber. As soon as the door was shut behind them, they looked at one another. "Let's do this," Harley said, holding his hand out.

"And kick its ass doing it," Peter replied with a smile and they grabbed each other's hands in their secret handshake.

"Did I mention that we have cameras and microphones in there, too. So no bad language," Susan's voice made the two jump and look up at the camera that had turned to look at them, feeling her admonishing look through the lens.

"Sorry!" they yelled in unison and began making their way through the dome to the two seats in the middle of the room. In some odd way, they made the room seem emptier. Together they sat and buckled themselves in, looking around the white room.

"Good job on buckling up, boys. You don't know how many trainees make that mistake and treat this as just a VR ride instead of a potentially dangerous experience. You two signed the wavers, right?" The boys nodded. "Good. The room will make an odd noise as the simulation starts, but soon it will fade into the noise of the flight sim. Simulation starting in three......two....one....good luck boys."

They didn't get a chance to respond before the room started making a high pitched whirring noise before the room actually disappeared! In its place was the inside of a sub-orbital craft. Harley stared out the window and actually looked real, even down to the birds! "This...this is amazing!" His voice didn't even echo in the cockpit, as it was a small, full space. "The reality is so real." He reached out and touched a control, surprised to feel the yoke in his grasp. "Amazing."

"I wonder how they do it? Maybe it's something to do with the brainwaves that measure your senses? That would be amazing tech to put into use in the real world! Imagine what could happen if people didn't have to leave their homes in order to work, that would mean they'd be able to spend their lives in filtered air and therefore increase their lifespan by at least ten years!"

Harley gave him a look as if to say 'shut up'. "But, think of the damage the power one of these needs in order to run. Could you imagine something like that in every home? It would kill the planet indefinitely. It was a good thought, though, kid." The younger nodded and got a 'thinking' look on his face. "Worry about it after we're done, okay? Our futures ride on this simulation. We have to do good, or else those scholarships should be taken away." Peter's face turned serious in an instant and he gripped the yoke. "I'm ready. Let's get started."

[alittlefoxedup]

An Unexpected Reunion p2

Hey, sorry this is late, but I totally decided to do this whole week thing last minute. I have no idea how to link posts, but I come bringing fluff.

Day 2: Omega and pup

Jason held his phone between his cheek and shoulder. He hadn’t been able to sleep knowing this call was coming. Damian only managed to call once a month. The family didn’t know, and Jason wasn’t sure how Damian was keeping it a secret. It didn’t matter as long as he kept calling.

Damian chattered away about the dog Bruce had gotten him and other important issues of eleven year olds. Titus was apparently smarter than his classmates, and Tim was sighing just to annoy Damian. His nonstop talking always rolled back around to the dog though.

Arms wrapping around his waist scared Jason more than he’d ever admit. He managed to keep his mouth shut even though Roy deserved to be chewed out. He’d been very touchy the past couple of weeks. Three missions and four months under the same roof must be when Roy gets comfortable with someone. Jason wasn’t fighting it, but he didn’t understand. Was it just how Roy was or something more?

“Ahki? Is something wrong?”

“I’m still here. I was just trying not to burn breakfast.”

Roy took the spatula out of Jason’s hands and spun him away from the slightly crisp pancakes. The shooing motion was understood but not followed. Jason couldn’t get his brain to move past Roy not wearing a shirt. His scent mixed with the pancakes and bacon was not something Jason wanted to move away from.

The smirk and eyebrow wiggling quickly changed Jason’s mind. Jason refused to boost Roy’s ego. He sat down at the island and only watched Roy’s back muscles a little bit. Jason wasn’t going to mess up his call just because Roy wanted attention.

“Mother said you’ve been working with someone.” Damian was good at asking questions without actually asking a question. It had taken Jason a month to teach him to not outright demand answers.

“Yeah, I am. I’m busy when she’s free and vise versa so she hasn’t gotten to meet him yet.”

“I doubt he is worthy of your time.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “We’ve talked about this. You don’t get to decide who I hang out with.”

“Mother says he’s an alpha. He will pursue you.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You are a qualified omega.”

“Qualified?”

“Yes. You have learned how to manage a household and defend it. You are not unattractive.”

“That’s so sweet.” Jason bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“It is the truth. Only the best alpha should have the honor of courting you.”

Jason snorted. “Uh huh.”

“I am not being funny.”

“That’s why I’m laughing. I love the way you phrase things is all.”

“I don’t understand what you find so humorous. Your worth is not a laughing matter.”

“I know, I know. Dami, I know exactly what face your making when you say stuff like that. It’s really cute.”

Damian huffed. “I am not cute. Pennyworth will be here shortly. I will speak to you soon.”

“Bye, stay out of trouble.”

Roy set down a sizable stack of pancakes and two plates. He was still shirtless when he drowned his pancakes his syrup. Jason put a reasonable amount like a normal person and tried to ignore the fact that Roy was using the bars on his stool as a foot rest. Their legs were almost touching.

“So how’s the pup?”

“He thinks I’m a qualified omega.”

Roy choked and laughed at the same time. “Oh, yes. I’ve see your qualifications and concur. Smart, gorgeous, a good cook, gorgeous, and a badass.”

“You said gorgeous twice.”

“Because you’re extra pretty.”

“Shut up.” Jason felt heat rise to his face and tried to hide it.

Roy made a satisfied alpha noise that Jason didn’t know how to describe. “So damn pretty.”

Jason tried to ignore him and go about the rest of his day. Unfortunately, Roy had been turned into a lost puppy overnight and stayed close but strangely quiet. Having someone blatantly stare at him made reading and research difficult. That and Roy still refused to put on a shirt. The house was cool enough so Jason was sure Roy had motives but couldn’t figure them out.

“Why don’t you just go see him?” Roy took the laptop out of Jason’s hands as he finally settled on what he wanted to say.

“I told you I can’t. It was the last order he gave me. I’m sticking to it.”

“What if Talia ordered you to check on Damian?”

Jason furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“You said Talia was your mom so you’d have to listen to her even if it went against a certain asshole’s orders. It would be an exception that he doesn’t even have to know about even though I don’t think you should follow something so ridiculous.”

“That’s a poorly constructed loophole. Not happening.”

“He’d never know!”

“I would. I don’t want to do it.”

“Jay.” Roy leaned in and held Jason’s face in his hands. “You told me you missed Damian so much it hurts. A good alpha would never do something to bring pain to a pack member. He made it clear you’re not in his pack. You don’t have to listen to him. It’s not going to convince him you’re telling the truth.”

Jason couldn’t stop his whine as he tried to pull away.

“I know it hurts. You are the most selfless person I’ve met. You can be selfish for once. I hate seeing you suffer over this. I know Talia would be happy to help. We could make him think Damian’s visiting with Talia and maybe surprise Damian at the same time. That’d be fun, right babe?”

“Yeah, it would be, but it won’t work.”

“It will. Give me Talia’s number, and we’ll figure it out while you pack.”

“You mean go now?”

Roy nodded. “As soon as Talia can do it.”

Talia could be in Gotham in a week. Jason trusted Talia’s planning abilities but was skeptical of Roy’s. There had to be something in this for Roy. Just because Jason couldn’t figure out what it was didn’t mean it didn’t exist. There was no way Roy would risk running into Dick without a very good reason.

Roy was not going to be allowed to make hotel reservations ever again. Jason liked the distance from where Talia was staying, but he had concerns about their room. Roy had only gotten one room with one bed. The couch was obnoxiously small and looked uncomfortable. There were no excuses or explanations given. The only curtesy Jason received was Roy agreeing to wear pants.

It wasn’t even a king bed. Jason was painfully aware of all two inches that separated him from an alpha who was incredibly pleased with himself. The fact that one of them had to be the adult and it wasn’t Roy was the only thing that kept Jason from kicking him.

An hour of restlessness ended with Roy muttering under his breath. Jason lowered his guard to try to understand what Roy was saying and deeply regretted it. Roy wrapped his arms around Jason’s waist and pulled him against his chest. He threw one leg over Jason’s and started rumbling. Jason hated how much it worked but slept better than he had in a long time.

Jason left for Talia’s hotel room mid morning, grateful Roy hadn’t mentioned anything from the previous night. Being cuddled into submission was not something Jason had planned. Stupid alphas and their annoying good looks. Jason shook his head. He was there to see Damian not think about how tightly Roy held him. Hopefully, Roy wouldn’t get into too much trouble without him.

Talia let him in silently. Damian didn’t notice until the door closed. He stopped pulling out things from his backpack and froze for a second. Jason managed to slip off his jacket in time for Damian to practically leap into his arms. Damian smelled like Wayne Pack. Jason set about fixing that quickly.

After a quick greeting, Damian cut straight to the point. “Why do you let an alpha scent you?”

Jason ignored the pointed look from Talia. “He didn’t scent me. We were just in close quarters recently.”

“Why would you allow him to come with you?”

Jason didn’t have an answer. Roy could have easily stayed in their safehouse. Archers didn’t always make sense so Jason hadn’t thought much of it. It didn’t really matter as long as Roy didn’t get into any trouble. Jason just shrugged and steered Damian into talking about what he’d been up to.

The day ended too quickly. It had been fun and well needed. Talia brought only the best of nesting materials, and Damian showed off his artwork. Jason had managed to get Damian smelling like pack if only for a few moments. He couldn’t go home like that or Bruce would know or keep Talia away. It might have been overkill, but Jason felt better covering his tracks.

All that was left to do was fall into bed. The room was empty when he made it back before nightfall. Jason hoped Roy hadn’t slipped up. If he didn’t hear back in an hour, he’d check the closest bars. Roy would definitely sleep on the couch if Jason had to deal with entitled drunken alphas.

Halfway through getting ready for bed, Roy walked back in completely devoid of any scent with a ziplock bag of cookies. “How’d it go?”

“Good. What’d you do?”

“Went to talk with my sponsor.”

Jason cocked his head and leaned against the bathroom door frame. “I didn’t know Killer Croc was a baker.”

“Bet he only makes frog cakes. No, I needed to do something. Alfred gave them to me.”

“What did you do?”

Roy sighed and rubbed his face. “Nothing that could be possibly linked to you. I didn’t trust Dick not to spy on Damian so I distracted him. I don’t want to talk about it. I hope the cookies make up for the room thing. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“You can’t just drop it at that.”

“You gonna tell me why you really saved me? If you get a secret, I get one to. I’ll tell you when I’m good and ready. Eat your damn cookies and let me sleep.”

The cookies tasted like home, but Roy’s arms felt like home.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 247: Todoroki Angst

Previously on BnHA: Ujiko started some kind of procedure on Tomura to make him even more powerful, because that’s what we were all asking for at the end of the last arc, isn’t it? “Horikoshi can you go ahead and make the homicidal nihilist even stronger please and thank you.” Well not to worry, because he’s got our backs! Meanwhile Hawks poked around the villain HQ trying to find out more details about That End Of The World Thing That’s Happening In 4 Months, and came up with squat. But he did successfully pass on his secret message to Endeavor about how “THE CHILDREN ARE OUR ONLY HOPE,” so Endeavor shrugged and was like “fine, HEY CHILDREN, LET’S GO FIGHT CRIME.” Anyways, so I was thinking, do you suppose they all just figured out they’re actually in a shounen manga? Because that would explain a lot.

Today on BnHA: Endeavor gathers the kids together and is all “so tell me about yourselves.” Deku is all “I have two quirks shut up it’s not weird” and says he wants to get better at harnessing his power so that he can use it without it being destructive. Kacchan is all “I’m already strong but I want to become better as a person” and I appreciate how the other characters are able to hold themselves back from exclaiming, “THIS KID’S REDEMPTION ARC... IT’S TOO POWERFUL...!” because I sure the fuck would have if I was there. And then Shouto is all “hey dad, friendly reminder that I’m here because I want to get stronger to reach my own goals, but you’re still a shitty dad and I hate your guts.” Endeavor, to his credit, reacts very appropriately to all three kids (including a resigned “got it” to Shouto, which was in fact the only appropriate response, so props to him for that), and dives right on in to mentoring the shit out of them. He then delivers a challenge -- defeat at least one villain without him beating them to the punch. So that should be fun, and I mean that with complete sincerity. Bring it!

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

oooooh shit we’re starting right on a continuation of the Fuyumi panel from last week. TODOROKI DRAMA ARC INCOMING. THIS IS IT BOYS. THE BIG ONE

omg omg omg

friendly reminder that chapter 242, in which this internship was first announced, came out on September 6. that is six whole weeks that we’ve been waiting for this internship to actually get started for real. I WAS PROMISED CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND UNUSUAL INTERACTIONS AND UNLIKELY BONDS BEING FORMED. and I have been patient, because In Horikoshi We Trust, but is it finally that time now? I just need them to stop hinting at it and finally get to it before I lose my mind okay

so Endeavor is asking Baku and Deku for their character profiles

Deku: “I used to break bones on demand, now I shoot wind from my fists along with the occasional Venom Symbiote”

Bakugou: “I blow shit up and I also have your character development arc, but fast-tracked so that it kicked in before I could fully become a massive prick like you”

meanwhile Shouto just sits there pouting because as we know from the Babysitter’s Club arc (and also from the Sports Festival arc, during which he dragged Deku into a hallway and was all “time to tell you about my tragic past” completely unprompted), he actually has his own character profile on standby ready to go at a moment’s notice, but everyone just keeps it benched all the time. poor Shouto

(ETA: he will not be silenced!!)

so Endeavor is phrasing this in the weirdest way possible, asking them to state “their current ‘assignments’” lol what. at least the second part of this is clearer, with him asking what they want to gain from this internship

okay so Deku says he wants to control his power so that he can “move at max performance.” yes that’s a very good goal for you, World’s Last Hope

lmaoooo

“weren’t you the kid who broke every bone in his arms several times in succession while attempting to KO my youngest child.” way to make an impression Deku

so Deku patiently explains that, yes, but we’re WELL BEYOND the whole bone-breaking stage now and currently at the “trying to master my new SECRET POWER which is still under wraps” stage. get with the times, Endeavor

hahaha here we go. this is so painfully awkward

“yeah so I kind of have a second quirk now. you know. as one does. please ignore how the only other known person to ever have multiple quirks just so happens to be the greatest villain of all time who is currently incarcerated in Tartarus following his last stand during which the number one hero lost all his power. that’s not relevant. anyways so yeah, two quirks, it’s totally normal and not a big deal at all”

what the actual fuck is he going to do once quirks # 3, 4, 5, etc. come along? this is such a disaster it’s not even funny. and by the way, this whole time I’ve been ignoring the elephant in the room that is Katsuki’s face while Deku nearly spills the beans about his so-called secret. but let’s all just acknowledge that it’s amazing and it belongs in a museum

thankfully Endeavor has had more than enough of exercising his brain today after all of that codebreaking, and isn’t even bothering to ask any questions. instead he’s just like, “show me.” probably the right call; easier to just see wth he’s going on about rather than keep listening to this strange and incredibly suspicious explanation

here we go guys time for some BLOOP

that’s because you’re still scared of it! boy if you’re not going to listen to Katsuki then I hope Endeavor can knock some sense into you at least!

you know, Endeav may be scowling so hard his face is gonna get stuck that way, but so far he’s not half bad at this mentoring/coaching thing

really appreciate how he jumps straight into asking pertinent questions about what Deku wants to do with this new quirk, rather than being all “how the fuck do you go from breaking all of your bones to THAT”

so now Deku’s explaining how it works and says he’s been applying the same principles that he uses with Air Force

LMAOOOOO

this right here is the most accurate introduction to Deku that Endeavor could ever have possibly received. THAT’S IT, THAT’S THE CHARACTER

and it also neatly sums up his whole problem with Blackwhip as well, which is just that he’s way overthinking it. no fucking wonder he can’t do anything with it yet! he’s trying to run NASA-level calculations in his head in real time while using it, like wtf. just let loose boi

also can we stop and appreciate how both Bakugou and Shouto are just fucking done. like, Bakugou is one thing, but just look at Todoroki fucking Shouto, Deku’s #1 fan and admirer, being all “wtf I hate Deku now”

LMAO AGAIN

Burnin’ is quickly rising through my favorite character ranks. meanwhile Shouto has gleaned, quite correctly, that those were in fact words coming from Deku’s mouth. what kind of words is a mystery, but at least it’s something

omfg Endeavor can speak Deku

(ETA: one of the things I’m noticing on a reread is how Endeavor is approximately twice the size of the kids. and it’s not like they’re small or anything. but they look like toddlers next to him. he’s only 6′4″ how is he towering over them to this degree.)

I feel like Endeavor’s intelligence levels fluctuate from week to week. or even from panel to panel. enigma

so blah blah blah he’s thinking to himself “his raw power rivals All Might’s” and then -- ! LOOK AT THIS SHIT

SOFT ENDEAVOR ADOPTING DEKU WTAF. holy shit. if anyone says they saw this coming, I’m calling you out as a fucking liar. BUT I’M HERE FOR IT OMG

AND NOW THIS ONE’S TURN!

(ETA: Kacchan is 5′7″. pretty sure Endeavor is actually 8 feet tall.)

lmao Deku’s face. trying to work out what this means and whether it’s good or bad

meanwhile, after the multiple pages of extensive rambling from Deku, Endeavor is about to get an introduction from Bakugou which will likely just consist of “I WANT TO BECOME THE NUMBER ONE” with absolutely no introspection whatsoever. basically the polar opposite of Deku. gotta love it

HERE WE GO

ooh, unexpected! though still brusque. but to be fair, he’s gifted when it comes to saying a lot in few words

(ETA: out of the three, Kacchan definitely took up the least amount of time with his introspection. not bad for a kid who used to think the entire fucking world revolved around him. growth!)

now he’s bitching at Burnin’ for not having anything better to do than stand around heckling them lmao

SHE’S HERE TO PROVIDE COMMENTARY KATSUKI SHHH. in other news, today I learned that Burnin’ is actually me. huh

OH MY GOD KATSUKI IS METAING -- !! [ELBOWS MY WAY INTO THE FRONT ROW] EVERYONE FUCKING SHUT YOUR MOUTHS AND LISTEN!!!!

OH MY GOD

y’all Katsuki really just fessed up and admitted to needing to work on his growth as a person rather than his physical ability. along with a NEW ADORABLE CHILDHOOD FLASHBACK, EXCUSE ME WHILE I ORDER PRINTS OF THIS TO PUT IN MY WALLET

AND HERE WE GO NOW, THE WHOLE “I WANT TO SURPASS THE NUMBER ONE” PART. BUT IT WAS SO MUCH DEEPER THAN I EXPECTED, KATSUKI YOU CONTINUE TO MAKE ME PROUD! LOOK HOW DETERMINED HE IS TO BE A BETTER PERSON

PEOPLE OF THE WORLD, IF YOU’RE NOT ROOTING FOR BAKUGOU KATSUKI THEN WHY ARE YOU EVEN READING THIS MANGA HONESTLY

OMG ENDEAVOR

“this kid...” REMINDS YOU OF SOMEONE, DOESN’T HE! OH MY GOD I NEED TO SIT AND CALM DOWN AND DRINK SOME WATER

anyway so do you love him. YOU BETTER SAY YES!!

LMAO SHOUTO COULDN’T HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER

LET’S HEAR IT THEN, FIVE PEEPEE MAN!!

Endeavor is whipping back around on him all “I THOUGHT YOU CAME HERE TO MASTER YOUR NEW TECHNIQUE” with this look of borderline panic on his face that implies to me that it’s one thing to take on two new kids with no familiar baggage, and quite another to have to deal with his own son’s personal angst which is directly related to his own worst personal shortcomings and sins! but that’s just too bad, Endeavor! also, fuck you!

OH MY GOD TODOROKI SHOUTO HAS THE SOFTEST SADDEST EXPRESSION AND THIS SPEECH IS GOING TO MAKE ME CRY WHAT THE HELL

even Kacchan has gone soft. meanwhile, is somebody cutting onions in here or

(ETA: also, Kacchan really has been promoted to best friend status, hasn’t he? or co-best friend at least. Shouto really does value their time training together, huh. “spending time with these guys.” anyways so this officially is the TodoBakuDeku arc, sorry everyone I don’t make the rules.

also! I really love how Shouto’s character development has been all about him finally figuring out what it is that he wants. one way or the other, Endeavor has been the focus of his life since childhood. everything he did was centered around him, even when it was centered around defying him. it was still always him, and never Shouto. because he’d been raised as his father’s tool, he struggled with feeling like anything he achieved was just giving his father exactly what he wanted. so he never really had the freedom to strive toward his own goals until Deku finally broke him free of that mindset. it wasn’t until he was surrounded by others who shared the same dream he’d once had that he was able to move past the toxic part of that resentment. not to say that it wasn’t justified, because it was! and is, still. but all the same, it was hurting him at least as much as it ever hurt Endeavor, if not much more so. 

so I really like the message his arc sends here, which is that forgiveness is not so much for the benefit of the one who hurt you as it is for yourself. and that’s obviously not the right word for it, by the way -- “forgiveness” -- but it’s just a placeholder for lack of a better one. because obviously as we can see, he hasn’t forgiven him, but what he has done is put that part of his past behind him. for his own sake, for his own peace, which he deserves. anyways guys Shouto is so fucking strong and I love him so damn much. shit.)

“y’all didn’t think I was gonna put the Terrible Trio together with Endeavor and not follow through on it with piles and piles of Todoroki angst,” Horikoshi says, casually filing his nails with one eyebrow raised. “c’mon”

here it comes y’all

ain’t no force on this earth more dramatic than a Todoroki. did he somehow get a wind blowing in from somewhere. aren’t they indoors

loool Endeavor getting DRAGGED LIKE AN UNTIED SHOELACE in front of these kids he just met two seconds ago, oof. “don’t forget dad, just because I’ve mellowed out a bit and accepted that I need to learn how to use my fire side doesn’t mean I don’t still hate your guts because BOY DO I.” oh damn

so your kid is justifiably pissed at you for your decade and a half of abuse, not to mention annoyed that you’re just putting it all behind you now and acting like it never happened. but it’s not like it’d make things any better if he just went back to acting like a jerk with these new kids! so here we all are, with no easy answers for this situation. what’s a 45-year-old man trying to make up for his past sins to do

(ETA: boy I just took a stroll around the ol’ fandom and a lot of people have really strong feelings about this huh. the most common sentiment seems to be “YAASSSS SHOUTO”, which I can 100% get behind. but it seems like a lot of people are also angry that Shouto is in this situation to begin with. specifically, we have the usual faction of people who are upset that Endeavor is getting any kind of redemption arc at all, and would prefer if he remained eminently hatable and shunned and detested for the rest of his days.

and look, I get it. humans are hardwired to want things to be fair. we want karma. kindness should beget kindness, and cruelty should net you the same treatment in return. reap what you sow. and while some crimes occasionally fall into a grey area, it hardly gets more black and white than Endeavor’s case. not only is there the child and spousal abuse, there’s also the incredibly dubious consent issues that arise in the case of an arranged marriage. like, there’s really no question that what he’s done is bad. so to see behavior like that “rewarded” by his becoming the number one hero, and to see people actually admiring him, and to watch him taking steps to turn his life around even as his wife and children struggle to gather the shattered pieces of their own lives -- yeah, that’s gonna trigger something in a lot of people. because it’s not fair. he hurt good people who didn’t deserve it, and all of this makes it seem like he’s getting away with it.

but here’s the thing -- there are different types of penance. there’s punishment, but there is also atonement. and Endeavor is getting his just desserts in some ways -- by being forever denied the chance to reach the goal that he worked his whole life toward, and by finally developing a conscience, the better to fully experience the remorse of knowing the pain he brought about to his family. but what’s arguably more important than that is that he also has the opportunity to try and atone for some of the terrible things he’s done, by doing good in the world now. he is a hero. his job is to help people. every day he is making the world a little better by doing that. and that, to me, is such a fascinating idea: a terrible person doing good things. and it’s something that feels almost counterintuitive, and that’s part of why a lot of people have so much trouble accepting it, I think. but it’s a fact of life, isn’t it? if good people can do bad things, then it stands to reason that the reverse is true as well. 

and I’ll just come right out and say it -- for me, if it comes down to a choice of having someone be punished, or having them be forced to do good things to atone, I’m gonna go with the latter just about every time. because while it may not feel quite as viscerally satisfying, it’s the option that produces the greatest net benefit for the world. without Endeavor, the world would have one less person out there battling evil. and as I suspect we’re going to continue to see in this arc, there are other, subtler ways that he can still do good as well.

so yeah. it’s a tricky thing. but to be honest, the ability to explore this type of complexity is one of the things I respect the most about Horikoshi’s storytelling. he’s not taking the easy way out here. he’s not giving us easy answers one way or the other. no matter what kind of resolution we get to this character arc, it’s not going to be something that will satisfy everyone. but that’s just how it is. anyways, apologies for the rant.)

hmmm Endeavor

yeah you really read that one wrong. anyway I guess it’s your turn to make a speech now

...

classic Endeavor

(ETA: actually truth be told, that was quite eloquent, and pretty much the only thing he could have said in response to all that. it’s not like he can even begin to justify all of his actions, and pretty much anything else that came out of his mouth would have come off like an attempt to dismiss his son’s feelings, or him trying to weasel out of taking responsibility. there is pretty much nothing else he can say here except for “I understand. that’s valid, and I fucked up.” which this is pretty much acknowledging. anyways this whole chapter is basically the sequel/continuation to 192 and I’m loving it omg.)

so he says he’ll watch over the three of them as a hero, and lead them in hero stuff

oh, I wasn’t going to post this panel, but now Endeavor’s saying “those are the three fundamental skills sought after from a hero” so I guess I should, huh

ooh he says that generally heroes will choose to specialize in either rescue or battle, but his policy is to kick ass at all three. well that’s one similarity between him and All Might, at least. if you’re not here to both win and rescue then what are you even doing with your life am I right

damn there really is a reason why this guy is the number one huh

okay, like. not to knock like 99% of the other heroes out there, but is anyone else sitting there thinking “wow, finally someone competent” or is it just me. like, I really do get a sense of “he’s got it all under control” from him which is lacking with pretty much all of the other heroes. no wonder society is on the verge of being in shambles. what we really need is for all heroes to be this capable, and not just All Might or Endeavor or whoever happens to be the current number one

okay, Endeavor is really out here being a genuinely good mentor, I’m speechless

holy shit

-- WHAT, NO! ARE WE ALREADY DONE?? WHY

okay but I do love that, though. it’s a perfect goal for them. difficult, but not impossible at the rate they’re growing. and it also just so happens to be something that they need to be able to do if they really are going to be the shoulders that society is resting all of its hopes upon. and last but not least, it’s something that all three of them will be able to set their minds too gladly. kick this old man’s ass, kids

anyways. ladies and gentlepeople this chapter was only thirteen pages. shortest chapter we’ve had in a minute. but at least it was densely packed! even if Shouto took up like half of it with his Daddy Issues Speech. that’s okay Shouto we always welcome your daddy angst

all in all I am satisfied. character development, and finally a clear goal for the arc. though part of me would also love it if they manage to achieve this in like the very next chapter. you never know with these wunderkinds lol