#far too many are satisfied with 'Im fine' no matter how tired i look

[bluebellhairpin]

Spent the last eleven years having to save myself, but man it would be nice if someone else cared enough to save me instead. Just once.

[tommysparker]

Never Forget You [Chapter 4]

A/N: hey y’all. just wanna say sorry for the posting schedule change. life is about to get hella hectic with school and the move sooo yeah. every second Saturday I will be posting! it’ll defiantly give me a chance to write more as well so im not rushing out chapters. anyways ive rambled long enough, enjoy :) 

Warnings: angst. theres fluff too but its fluffy angst?? im not sorry hehe. long italic paragraphs = flashbacks. 

From an outside perspective, one would assume the four of them were deep in thought, perhaps even communicating telepathically via the Force. They would only be half correct, as all of the Jedi were indeed thinking, but none of their trains of thought overlapped.  

Anakin and Ahoska were in the pilot seats, glancing at each other every other minute or so. They could feel the tension build thicker with every passing planet. The only sound filling the room was the faint running of the engine that kept the ship moving. 

You and Obi-Wan sat across from each other, neither one daring to make eye contact. Apparently, he was quite serious about the “not speaking from now on” agreement. It’s for the best, you kept telling yourself. However, the awkward silence that filled the ship made it harder to believe that. 

Out of all the things that could happen to you at the moment, this was by far the worst. 

On Gyfil, you had grown quite used to the sound of silence. In fact, over time you began to prefer it as opposed to the buzz of the towns. However, this was a different type of silence, one that had you bouncing your knee in anticipation for Anakin to announce you finally landed. 

Master Yoda had called you all for a mission briefing. There was a supposed Separatist group meeting on Ostor, given the intel you received from a client on your previous mission. The four of you were sent to listen in on it. 

“Young Skywalker and Padawan Tano, back up you will be. Great risks on Ostor, there are. Careful, you must be.” He turned to Obi-Wan and You. “Master Y/l/n, guide them you must do. In charge of the mission, I am putting you.” 

A sense of pride filled your body but you quickly humbled yourself. “Thank you Master.” 

Master Yoda smiled and turned to Obi-Wan. “Infiltrate the meeting, you and Master Y/l/n will. Stay together, you must.” 

Obi-Wan would have laughed at the irony. Mentally he still is. Stay together, you must. After the last conversation between the two of you, he had doubts about how that plan would go. However, for the sake of the mission he was willing to lift the deal made. 

You stood quietly, not being able to handle the loud silence any longer. “I’ll be in my quarters until we land,” you announced, making a point not to look at Obi-Wan and keep all attention to Anakin and Ahsoka. 

You left without sparing a glance back. 

He waited until you were out of view to let out a long sigh, running a hand over his beard and hunching forward. 

Anakin was the first to speak. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever had to endure.” His shoulders shook as he made a disgusted sound. “Glad it’s finally over.” 

“Just focus on getting us there in one piece, Anakin,” Obi-Wan snapped, immediately followed by, “apologizes, I didn’t mean to sound so...aggressive.” 

“So much for being able to hide stress, huh?” 

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Some things are harder to deal with than others.” 

“Is Master Y/l/n ‘some things’?” Ahoska asked innocently. 

Obi-Wan pondered for a minute, deciding the best way to answer. “Master Y/l/n is...many things.” 

“Like what?” 

Gorgeous. Strong. Kind. Perfect in every way. “They are highly skilled, almost as well as I am, if not better. A fine Jedi and a valuable member to the Order.” He stopped there before he’d say something he’d come to regret. Best to keep professional thoughts. 

“I still don’t understand why the Council sent them away like that. Surely there were other Jedi that could have completed the mission,” Anakin commented. He knew his former Master wasn’t satisfied with the answer they were all given but would never admit it. He had to push him to find the truth. 

“Whatever reasons Master Yoda and Master Windu had for picking Y/n are between them. You must stop questioning the Council’s intentions, Anakin. It will land you in very big trouble one day.” Obi-Wan says as if he hasn’t second guessed the Order as a whole before. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. The less you question things, the easier life is. 

“That’s why I keep you around, old man,” Anakin said in a teasing manner. Hearing Obi-Wan let out a light chuckle made him feel a bit better as they settled into silence once more, this time more comfortable and light-hearted. 

A bit more time had passed before Ahsoka spoke up. “Why don’t you ask Master Y/l/n what really happened?” 

Obi-Wan sighed. He should have known better than to believe she would drop the topic. Like Master, like Padawan. “It’s none of my business. Frankly, it’s none of ours so I suggest we leave the subject alone.” 

His answer, apparently, wasn’t good enough. “I’m gonna go ask them.” Ahsoka stands up to leave but is stopped mid-movement by Obi-Wan’s protests. 

“No!” He looked at Ahsoka’s slightly stunned face, and chose to ignore Anakin’s smug look. “Fine, I’ll ask them. But only once, and if they don’t want to indulge me then that is the end of it. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Crystal.” 

Meanwhile, you sat alone on the bed in your chosen quarters. It made you feel relaxed, in a way. Before leaving, you were extremely extraverted, always going out of your way to make acquaintances with everyone around you. The life forces around you at night kept you alive, it gave a sense of warmth and comfort to lull you to slumber. On Gyfil, there was none of that. You had to rely on your own warmth to comfort yourself to sleep. No lush trees or animals to provide even the smallest bit of connection. It was just You and the Force. Sleeping for the first time in the Jedi Temple after returning felt like a sensory overload. Everything was loud, and rough. You could feel it coursing through your veins at the speed of light. No matter what you did, it was too much. 

You didn’t sleep the first few days. Eventually you got used to the noise, but not enough to get a decent amount of rest at night. There was one sound that sometimes made it impossible to sleep, one Force signature that kept trying to break through the walls you put up to protect yourself when you’re most vulnerable. What scared you the most was the fact your own signature subconsciously fought back against the walls you put. You refused to acknowledge it, choosing to fall into a deep meditative slumber and stay alert as opposed to any actual sleep. Whoever it was would not get into your head so easily. 

Knock knock. Obi-Wan stepped into the room once his presence was made known, gently shutting the door behind him. “Y/n…” 

You looked up and squinted at him. “I thought we agreed to not speak?” 

“Yes, well, that proves to be a bit tricky now doesn’t it?” He smiled tightly and crossed his arms over his chest. 

You huffed out air in a sorry attempt at a sarcastic laugh, shaking your head a little. “What do you want, Obi-Wan?” 

It was neither hostile nor endearing. It was simply his first name. To him you sounded tired, and judging by the way you sat on the cot, leaning back against the cold metal wall with your eyes half opened, he presumed his assumption was correct. He spoke gently, “Anakin estimates we should be coming out of hyperspace and landing soon.” 

“I figured.” It wasn’t your intention to be stoic but that's how you’ve been training yourself to speak to the man in front of you. The faster the conversation ends, the faster he leaves. 

Obi-Wan, however, was not having it. “How are you feeling? I know it hasn’t been that long since you returned from your previous assignment.” 

You shrugged, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m fine.” 

“No one who says that is ever truly ‘fine’ Y/n/n,” he says, taking a step closer to the bed. “I know you. What’s on your mind, darling?” 

You slowly met his gaze, debating whether to open up or keep yourself closed off. On one hand, the idea of exposing your anxieties to someone didn’t feel right to you, letting someone know about your weaknesses and insecurities. However, you knew in order for the mission to succeed you would have to be willing to work with Obi-Wan and to do that a sense of trust had to be built. Rebuilt, technically. 

“If you wish not to speak, I understand.” He hesitated turning his back to you, “excuse me.” He was about to make his leave before you interrupted. 

“Obi-Wan, wait,” You sighed, shifting so there was room for him to sit on the bed. “Sit.” 

He did as he was told, eyeing you carefully. “Honestly, I don’t mean to pry.” 

“It’s fine.” You knew his intentions and as pure as they were you cannot bring yourself to tell him the truth. “I admit that I...am slightly concerned about the mission.” 

It wasn’t the answer Obi-Wan was hoping for, but he was willing to hear anything he could get out of you. “You have nothing to be worried about Y/n/n. You’re an extremely capable Jedi and I have no doubt in my mind you will lead us through it.” 

You smiled, only slightly but a smile nonetheless. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He smiled back. 

Your eyes locked tight with each other, and everything around you became emptiness. A void surrounded you both and the presence of the other was all that could be felt. 

“Staring competitions are pointless.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up straight and attempting to return your meditative state. 

“No they aren’t!: Obi-Wan argued from his spot across from you. 

“All you do is stare at each other until someone blinks. Waste of time.” 

“Nuh uh. Master Qui-Gon told me that--” Obi-Wan stood up, “--‘The eyes are a window to the soul’--” you laughed at the bad attempt he made to mimic his Master;s voice, “--therefore staring competitions can be a very good battle tactic.” 

“Jedi don’t do battles, remember? We’re peacekeepers.” You looked up at your friend. “Besides, you just want an excuse to get lost in my eyes.” 

Obi-Wan grinned. “You know me so well.” 

So much has changed about the man in front of you, you could hardly recognize him. You never allowed yourself the pleasure to examine what you missed out on. One moment he was a young man who looked like he could take on the universe, and now all you could see was one tired man doing his best. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, is what the old You would have teased. But post-living-ten-years-by-yourself You was different. In a way, you understood. Although you didn’t fight any life-threatening battles and put yourself in the line of fire every week, you have worked tirelessly towards the same goal. 

Peace. 

Like this moment. 

For once, it was quiet. You felt yourself relax slowly, focusing on the one noise that soothed your anxious mind. It felt warm and...close. Something you haven’t felt in a long, long time. 

Obi-Wan leaned closer, his heart reacting faster than his brain. He felt a warmth he had been longing for over a decade. When he reached out, he no longer felt desolate. He wanted to hold on to the feeling and never let go. 

But alas in time of war, small moments of peace only last for so long. 

“Hey! We’re here.”  

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[watchmegetobsessed]

Our song - Harry Styles

this one was inspired by the jingleball performance bc it was pure perfection and UGHH im obsessed.

dedicated to my dear friend @dontworrysunflower

disclaimer: the song Homesick by Dua Lipa is featured in this fic as an original work of Harry and the reader, but it’s obviously an existing song, I just thought that it would be the song they write

pairing: Harry x vocalist!reader

word count: 5.3k

masterlist

You’ve felt the adrenaline rush take over your body many times in your life and they were all different in some kind of way. The one you felt when you were about to write an important test in school, the one that bubbled through your veins when you got your first kiss. The one that rolled through your limbs and chest when you first performed in front of people that weren’t your parents and the one you felt when you got the news that you were chosen to tour with none other than Harry Styles as his vocalist, singing on his stage every other night in a different city and different country.

But none of those were anything like the feeling that takes over every time you stand on that stage, your microphone that’s labelled with your name right in front of you as thousands of people are screaming in the jam-packed arena. Though it’s not you they come to see and listen to, but you are part of the magic and it’s quite enough for you.

You could never be the one standing at the front with all the lights shining down on your frame, having every gaze in the place glued to you, listening to your voice. That brings the kind of anxiety you’re quite sure you wouldn’t be able to handle. You are perfectly fine standing in the back, being the support system while staying on the down-low as someone else shines at the front, in your case, it’s Harry.

You applied for the job with a reason, already having a huge appreciation for him as an artist, adoring his work so far, especially Fine Line. Upon hearing about the opportunity to be part of his tour, you didn’t hesitate to send your application in and following three auditions, you got the phone call that they wanted you on board.

He swept you right off your feet the first time you met him, but you didn’t expect less from him. Everything you heard about him being the most wonderful person to every walk the planet were proven to be nothing but the truth. You hit it off so easily and become close through the process of rehearsals. His odd little jokes, that funny laugh of his and the way he always peeks over his shoulder to meet his eyes with yours made you fall for him faster than you’d have ever thought you could.

Just as fast as your feeling for Harry developed, tour caught up on you and before you could blink twice, you were living on the road, always dressing from your suitcase, waking up in a different city every other morning.

The foreign studio feels a little odd, but still somehow familiar as you walk in with your water and notebook under your arm. Random studio sessions with Harry became a regular not long after tour kicked off. Harry’s creative juices were overflowing and he was aching to record his creations, constantly renting random studios near the hotel you lot were staying currently and one night, when some of you all were hanging out in his suit, he asked if you’d be down helping him record vocals for a song he’s been working on.

“I want to hear it with your voice instead of mine,” he told you leaning against the wall, a glass of whatever Mitch mixed him in his hands.

“Getting bored of your own voice?” you teased him, bringing his dimples out with the smile that plastered across his lips.

“Could say that. Are you up for it?”

There was no way you would have said no. So the next morning you found yourself in a studio somewhere in Sacramento, singing the vocals to a song no one else has heard other than you and Harry.

The tour has now reached Denver, you can’t wait to be on the stage tonight, but before that, you are having another quick session with Harry in the studio.

When you walk in, his head perks up from his leather notebook he always keeps on himself, filled with his scribbled lyrics. A smile stretches across his lips when his green eyes fall on your frame.

“Hey! Hope it’s not too early for you,” he softly says standing up from the chair as you put your stuff down to the small table in the corner.

“No, managed to get a good night sleep still,” you smile at him, taking a quick look around, though this recording room is just like the others you’ve been in.

“I think I figured out that part we struggled with last time. Changed up the ending a bit, would you mind giving it another go?”

You nod looking down at his notes, seeing the changes he has made in the vocals.

“Changed anything else?” you ask as you watch him get ready for the recording.

“Yeah, rewrote a few lines, think they are fitting better now.”

“Have you recorded them yet?”

“Will do now,” he tells you shaking his head.

Soon enough you find yourself standing behind the mic, headset covering your ears as you are waiting for Harry to start recording and the music to play in your ears. Once he shows up his thumb you do the same and a moment later the song you’ve heard last time you two were working starts flowing from the headset and you stare down at the notes in front of you, waiting for the moment when you have to start singing.

It takes you a few runs to nail it down, but when you finally do, you can see the satisfied grin on Harry’s face and you think to yourself that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to make him like this anytime.

“That was fantastic,” he beams once you join him at the screens where you see your voice appear as a pattern over a straight line. Harry does his usual magic before leaving it be. “Mind assisting recording my part?” he asks turning to you with an excited smile.

Nodding you let him tell you what to do and once he is all set behind the mic, you start the recording and the song. You listen to him in awe. There hasn’t been a moment when you didn’t feel the shiver running down your spine when he started singing. You are convinced a choir of angels is hidden in his throat, because it’s hard to believe he is just as human as everyone else.

He sings the whole song three times before he joins you again, listening back to what you have so far. The song is coming along pretty well and you can tell by the time he finishes it, it’s gonna be perfect. Everything he does is just pure perfection, whether he likes to admit it or not.

“You know how it would be absolutely perfect?” he asks you on your way back to the hotel. The two of you grabbed a coffee as well, so now you’re sipping on the hot drink, enjoying the somewhat sunny weather.

“Hm?”

“I think it would be best if a female voice sang the whole thing and the male was just the vocal.”

“Who do you think would fit best for it then?” you ask, immediately thinking of singers that could be perfect for the song. It wouldn’t be the first time Harry would sell a song to someone else, so you’re not surprised he is thinking about this kind of change.

“Y/N, I found the voice already,” he chuckles and you give him a puzzled look. “You. You are singing the song, I don’t need anyone else.”

“I’m not a solo singer,” you protest.

“There’s no such thing as solo or not solo. You’re a singer and a bloody good one. I want you to sing it.”

“But it would go to waste, because I would never actually perform it.”

“How are you so sure about that?” he smirks slyly at you, immediately making you nervous.

“Harry, I don’t sing solo,” you shake your head stubbornly, but he rolls his eyes at you.

“You could just try it. Let’s just record the song next time with you in the lead and then we can talk about the rest.”

“I’m fine recording, but I will never perform it,” you tell him, but his look makes you think he has other plans.

When tour reaches Dallas, the song gets a version with you singing solo and Harry doing the vocals in it. And though you had doubts about the switch, listening back to it you can tell how much it helped. It really is better with a female voice, though you are still convinced it shouldn’t be you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sell it to someone? I’m fine with that,” you ask him before the show in Dallas. You’re sitting on the table in his dressing room while he is painting his nails, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“I told you, I like it with your voice. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because I’m not a—“

“Fuck’s sake if you dare to tell me one more time that you’re not a solo singer, I’m firing you, Y/N!” he snaps, giving you a hard look, but you just laugh at his temper.

“It’s the truth.”

“Have you ever tried to go solo?”

“Not for years,” you admit and watch him screw the nail polish closed, pushing it aside, his hands lying flat on the table as he is carefully waiting for them to dry.

“So then how do you know you are no good at it?”

“Because I hated it back then, so I most likely would hate it now as well,” you state matter-of-factly, but Harry doesn’t seem amused by your answer.

“So you think you haven’t changed a bit in years? I hope you know that’s absolute bollocks.”

“Why are you so keen on making me sing solo?” you sigh, giving him a tired look. It feels like the two of you have been running the same circles since forever. It’s not his first attempt to get you sing more than just the vocals, he once wanted to do a cover and needed a partner because it was a duet and begged you for weeks to sing with him, but you didn’t give in. You just couldn’t.

“Because I think that you are a talented singer and I want you to feel the adrenaline rush performing gives you.”

“I do get that rush every time I sing behind you. That’s enough for me.”

Harry shakes his head pressing his lips tight together.

“That’s not the same as being in the lead. It’s a whole different world.”

“Yeah, one that makes me shit my pants,” you chuckle and he can’t push a smile back.

“Maybe we should just work on it. Your anxiety. I think we could actually make you feel better if we tried.”

“I still don’t know where this obsession with me being solo comes for you.”

Harry stands up, takes one last look at his nails before he steps closer smiling down at you softly and you bite into your bottom lip, realizing how close he is standing to you. His fingers tap in your cheek gently, running them down to your chin as he tilts your head up a bit.

“Just accept it, Love,” he smiles softly before stepping away and carrying on with his routine.

That evening, you stand at the back with the other two vocalists, eyes glued to Harry’s figure at the front of the stage, you watch him pour his soul out to the audience, interact with them and reach that state of mind you have never been able to get into. You know what he told you about performing is true, yet you are still terrified to do it yourself. It��s too nerve wrecking to have everyone look at and listen to you, so many chances to mess it up and make a fool out of yourself.

But when Harry’s eyes meet yours and he shoots you a warm smile, something shifts in you. The urge to have this connection with not just the audience and the song, but with him takes over your whole body and you make up your mind to at least give it a try.

Harry is ecstatic when you tell him later that night that you changed your mind. You see that sparkle in his eyes and it was already worth for you, just seeing him react like that.

“Though I have a few suggestions to change the lyrics.”

“You do?” he asks, seemingly surprised, but mostly amused that you had the balls to come out with it.

“Yeah. Just some tiny details.”

“Why haven’t you told me about these before?”

“Because it was your song. But if you want me to sing it, it has to be mine as well.” Harry stares back at you with a smile that’s filled with pride and joy, making your heart flutter in your aching chest as you think about performing solo.

“Our song,” he softly says nodding his head.

Arriving to Houston the two of you are quick to book a studio and work on the song. Harry lets you make any changes you desire on the lyrics, even says you did justice to it and that you should have spoken up earlier about your ideas. And then you record it.

It’s not that you have to sing the whole song and not just the vocals this time. You are completely fine with Harry hearing you sing, it’s the thought of performing it in front of anyone that’s not him, that’s what makes you turn into a wreck.

You record Harry’s vocals and once it’s all put together, you are blown by the outcome. You wouldn’t have thought Harry’s voice as the vocal would compliment you in the lead, but it’s just absolutely perfect and even you can’t find anything wrong with it.

“Love, this is what Heaven sounds like, I’m telling you,” he smirks at you from the chair beside you, playing the song for the tenth time, not able to get enough of the final product.

“You are so cheesy,” you shake your head, but feel the blush heating up your cheeks. His eyes linger on you a little longer before he turns back to the screen.

When the song is over he finally stops is so silence comes over the studio. Harry turns back to face you, his green eyes basically burning a hole into your head.

“So, when are we going to perform it?”

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” you sigh looking down at your hands fumbling with your shirt.

“And I do think it is. So I’m not stopping until you at least try it.”

Harry Styles gets what he wants. Always. And this time, no matter how hard you try to resist him, you just can’t deny this from him. Though it takes him time to talk you up, in Washington he finally gets you to give it a try in an empty stadium.

Most of the crew is out, since the building has been finished about half an hour before, so everything is perfectly set for tonight’s show when you walk out to the stage, following Harry in his heels. He asked the piano to be brought to the front along with a mic on it and another one on a stand next to it. The two of you quietly put on your earpieces, doing everything as if it was a usual occasion before a concert, only that this time the roles will be entirely switched.

“It’s fine, alright? No one is around,” he tells you when he sees how nervous you are to sing the song for the first time outside a studio.

“There are some backstage,” you mumble under your breath, not expecting him to do anything about it.

But he does. You watch him walk backstage, completely dumbfounded about what he is doing. He disappears from your sight and a few moments later you hear him shouting at the back.

“No one comes to the stage until I say so! Yea? Thanks!” he orders and then walks back as if he didn’t just boss around the whole crew.

“They will think you’re some kind of crazy celebrity,” you chuckle when he returns, a small smirk playing on his pink lips.

“Don’t care, Darling. Now sing you heart out for me.”

Harry sits on the piano bench, his fingers getting settled on the keys before he looks up to meet your anxious eyes.

“It’s alright. Just you and me, yea?”

Nodding you gulp hard and jump a little when he starts playing the melody the two of you have been working on for so long. You hear all the notes and you know you have to start singing, but you miss the opening. Harry stops and looks at you, as you move your eyes down to the ground, ashamed you messed up immediately.

“S-Sorry, I just—“

“How can I help?” he asks right away, not even caring about the fact that you messed up, focused on figuring out a way that would help you.

“I don’t know. I really don’t,” you sigh, feeling your nerves getting worse with each passing moment.

“Come sit next to me,” he then tells you motioning for you to join him on the bench.

“What?”

“Take your mic and sit next to me,” he repeats, scooting over to make you space. Hesitantly, you pull the mic out of the stand and walking over you sit next to him. “Now you are not in the center. Just listen to the music, watch my hands on the keys, okay?”

You nod, running your tongue over your dry lips as you hold the mic to your mouth before Harry starts playing again.

After the first few notes you close your eyes and when it’s time for you to start singing, Harry leans a little against you, giving you a kind of push to just do it. And it works.

It feels a little as if it’s not even you who starts singing, but it is. Your voice fills the empty arena along with the piano’s melody and keeping your eyes closed a little longer you let your mind settle. When the first verse ends you open them and watch his hands work on the keys, right as he starts singing the vocals, leaning a little forward so his voice reaches his mic.

It’s different. It’s electric and freeing, hear your voice through the massive speakers, to be in the lead and have Harry be just the support in the song. But it feels so right, better than anything you’ve ever felt.

Line after line, you hit all the notes and by the end of the song you are able to strip all your fears down and give yourself over to the music completely. As you sing the last few notes you feel Harry’s eyes on you and turning to face him, you are met with his warm, pride-filled smile and bright eyes, glued to you while his fingers press down the last notes.

The music dies down, the voice of the piano vibrates in the air a little longer until it completely disappears and the silence returns into the stadium.

“Love,” Harry quietly calls out for you and you turn completely towards him. “That was absolutely perfect.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper, your eyes never leaving his gaze.

“I know so,” he huffs, smile widening. He brings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead as you let out a breath you’ve been holding in for way too long.

He doesn’t try to make you perform that evening, knowing well it was enough for one day, but he does make you sing it with him in each city in the upcoming weeks. Before every concert, he empties out the area around the stage and the two of you sit down at the piano, singing your song until you feel comfortable enough to stand next to the instrument instead of sitting next to him.

The tour reaches New York and Madison Square Garden is getting ready to host Harry Styles for two evenings. The place is massive and you find yourself sitting at the edge of the stage when Harry emerges from backstage.

“Looks wild, right?” he asks sitting next to you, his thigh brushing against yours as he gets seated.

“Yeah. Pretty amazing.”

“This place has the most magical vibe.” “Yeah?” Turning to him you watch him take the arena in, his eyes glistening at the sight in front of him. You know it’s not his first time performing here, but it’s nice to see the excitement in his eyes regardless.

That feeling returns to your chest, the one you felt when Harry told you he wanted you to sing the song. The urge to be part of this amazing something that’s so much bigger than you.

“H?”

“Yea?” he turns to you smiling.

“Can I… Do you think we could sing our song tonight?”

You watch the pure surprise and excitement wash over his face, his smile stretching across his face as he stares back at you in awe.

“You want to sing it?”

Shyly, you nod your head and in a heartbeat his arms lock around you, pulling you into the tightest hug. The two of you almost fall off the stage, laughing together at his dramatic reaction.

“Of course we can sing it, Love. Would be an honor!”

Harry is quick to let the band know about the addition for tonight’s set and though everyone seems surprised, they are all supportive about your solo. As the time goes and the concert gets closer, you can feel the nerves building up and soon enough, you start to doubt your choice to sing the song tonight.

Right before it’s time to go on stage Harry takes your hand and pulls you aside, taking your face in his hands gently, making you look into his eyes.

“I know you are doubting yourself, but just know that I’m very proud of you, even if you decide to not sing the last minute.”

“I could do that?” you whisper, your hands finding his sides and you let them rest on him, a way to ground yourself in the windwhirl of your thoughts.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to make you do something you don’t really want. Though I know you will be amazing if you choose to sing.”

Nodding you let a weak smile appear on your lips and you notice as his eyes flicker down to them before he moves his gaze up to your eyes. He then pulls you into a proper hug before walking back to the rest of the band and vocalists.

Everything goes as usual and once again, you can’t take your eyes off Harry on the stage. Just watching him perform fills you up with life, enough to keep you from running away. About halfway into the set, as the crowd is still cheering after the previous song, Harry jogs over to you.

“You ready?” he asks over the noise and before you could think about it, you nod your head.

Two guys from the crew pushes the piano further to the front and they help to set everything up as you awkwardly stand at the side. Once your mic is in the stand you walk over there, heart hammering in your chest, hands shaking like crazy.

“I have a special song for you tonight,” Harry announces into the microphone as he makes his way over to the piano. “Please welcome the lovely Y/N here, who is gonna enchant you with a song we’ve been working on lately.”

The crowd screams and you allow yourself to look around with a weak smile. So many people, you think to yourself, everyone watching you.

“It’s called Homesick, and it means so much to us, so we hope you’ll like it Justas much as we do,” Harry adds before settling on the bench and his eyes find yours. “I’m proud of you,” you see him say, only able to read his lips since the crowd is screaming so loud. “Ready?” he asks and you nod, taking a shaky breath.

He sends you a warm comforting smile before glancing down at the keys and then he starts playing. 

Just like the first time, you close your eyes, forcing yourself to focus on the melody and nothing else. The lump in your throat is quite uncomfortable, but you open your eyes and see that Harry is looking straight at you, nodding in encouragement, as his fingers push down the keys to the notes right before you have to start.

“Here, where the sky’s falling, I’m covered in blue, I’m running and I’m crawling, fighting for you…”

Harry smiles wide when your voice flows through the speakers, filling the whole place, making everyone go quiet in a heartbeat as the song carries on. You feel your chest slowly deflating, the nerves cooling down with each sung note.

“You give me a reason, something to believe in, I know, I know, I know. You give me a meaning, something I can breathe in, I know, I know, I know…”

The chorus comes out perfect, your voice melting together with the piano and you finally feel your muscles relax as you slowly let go of every toxic thought that’s been tainting your mind. Harry leans closer to his microphone and his voice gently joins yours in the next verse.

“There’s a crack in my window, a bird in my room, angels all over that watch over you…”

Chills run down your spine hearing his voice, your eyes never leaving his gaze that’s fixated on your standing figure. You get lost in him and the song, something that came from the both of you, a piece of you and him. Standing there, singing this piece makes you feel closer to him than ever and you desperately want this feeling to last forever, hoping the song never ends though you know it’s gonna happen.

“When I’m walking on water all my dreams have come true. Still nothing means nothing without you…”

Homesick is exactly the feeling that bubbles inside you when you think of Harry. Because there’s this man you love so much, who is a home away from home to you, yet you still feel like you can’t be home entirely. Not in the way you’d want to. But standing on the stage in the spotlight, singing together with him as thousands of people are watching the two of you, yet you still manage to forget about them, for a moment, you feel like you finally arrived home. You are there, with him.

“Tell my heart to lie, but I know deep inside it’s true. That I wish I was there with you. That I wish I was there with you, oh I wish I was there with you.”

He plays the end of the song without tearing his eyes away from you, and there’s just a heartbeat of silence before the crowd starts screaming deafeningly, but that short moment… is yours and his.

Tugging your hair behind your ears with your shaky hands, your eardrums on the verge of breaking as you let out a laugh that was kind of a sob as well, relief washing over your body. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and rushing over he envelopes you in a tight hug.

“I’m so so so proud of you, Love. You were everything!” he mumbles, arms holding you so tight you almost lose your breath, but you want him this close, or even closer. You need to feel him, because it doesn’t feel real. His hold brings you a sense of existence only he can give you.

“Thank you, Harry,” you breathe out when he pulls back to look into your eyes, the screaming hasn’t died down even a tad little.

“No, thank you, Darling. You shined like the star that you are,” he grins, playing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before his arms fall off you.

You’d die to stay in this moment a little longer, but the show must go on. The crew pushes the piano back and soon enough, the next song starts. You stay in your spot for the rest, but you keep catching Harry smiling in your way, always making you blush.

The end of a concert is always a little hectic, everyone is all over the place. Still coming off the high you just experienced, you head to the dressing room you share with the other vocalists. They are going on and on about how amazing Homesick was, and you somehow still can’t believe tonight happened. Packing your stuff you barely notice that the door flies open, but you see Harry appear from the corner of your eye.

“Ladies, would you please give me a moment with Y/N?” he asks and the girls are quick to leave the two of you alone. You stand there, kind of dumbfounded, not sure why he is acting so dramatic. Once the door closes and it’s just you and him, he stares at you, chest heaving, his hair wet from his sweat, but he still looks breathtaking.

“Harry—“

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he cuts you off, your breath gets caught in your throat as you stare back at him, completely frozen. Opposite to what he just said, he remains standing in the same spot and you’re not sure what’s happening. “Can I? Please say yes, I can’t hold myself back for any longer,” he then adds.

“Yes,” you breathe out without even thinking about it. In a heartbeat, Harry crosses the room, chest smashing against yours as he wraps his arms around you, lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that almost makes you moan into his mouth.

It’s all a hot mess, teeth clashing, hands all over each other before his palms run down to the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. When you do, you wrap your legs around his waist and let him walk over to the table nearby, so he can place you on top, standing between your thighs as he keeps kissing you hungrily, his tongue melting together with yours in this sweet chaos. It keeps going on and on, neither of you wanting to let go of the other, but you are eventually forced to stop, coming short of air. Panting wildly, lips swollen from his kisses, you look at him to meet his gaze.

“You have no idea how hard it was to stop myself from kissing you on stage.”

“What?” you breathe out.

“Y/N, I’m fucking crazy about you and seeing you come over your stage fright, sing that song… our song, fuck, that did some unbelievable things to me. Please tell me you felt the same thing!” He is begging, not just with his words, but with his eyes as well and it crushes your soul entirely.

“I did. Harry, I always do when I’m with you.”

“Fucking Hell,” he breathes out before kissing you again. “You are… everything, Love,” he mumbles against your lips and you can’t push down the smile stretching across your face, hearing him say the same words he said right after the song.

“You’ve told me that,” you tease him, his gaze meeting yours as he flashes you his famous half-smirk, heart fluttering at the sight of him.

[miss-choco-chips]

Bird Watchers

It was something like an open secret in Gotham, that even though all it’s heroes were open to help no matter the situation, each one of them had a special affinity to certain matters.

For example, children from all districts knew to yell for Nightwing if they found themselves lost and scared. Small business owners often painted little Oracle symbols on their doorsteps, to warn away possible thieves with the knowledge that Gotham’s cryptic hacker had their eye on them. Working girls would send a quick prayer to the Red Hood before seeing their seediest clients; and as such, knew who to call for if things took a turn for the worst.

And Red Robin… well. His was a very specific bunch.

---.---

Warnings: depression, suicide attempts, overdose comic-typical violence (discussed, not explicit). Hurt-comfort all the way, baby. There’s also one scene, with the redhead, that I copied from the comics.

(it’s almost 2 am, I wrote half of this in one go, don’t @ me for mistakes. I’ll edit tomorrow. Maybe.)

---.---

The first time he stopped a suicide, he had just turned thirteen. The suit still felt wrong, too loose in all the places where Jason’s bigger presence would have been a better fit. Too small, too brainy, not brash enough, not good enough.

He would never think himself worthy, but he was all Batman had. There were no other candidates, not ones he could have thrown the job at without risking Bruce’s identity, so he’d have to make do.

But even so, he had been gaining a little confidence over the past few months. His training with Shiva, and Dick’s and Bruce’s focus on making him as ready for the streets as humanly possible, had ensured he never encountered a situation where he couldn’t handle himself, or get back up in time to avoid any casualties.

Except for right now.

“Hey! Don’t do it, please!”

Yeah, maybe yelling at the man precariously balanced on the edge of a how many feet tall building wasn’t his wisest moment. He’d berate himself later. Now was freak out time.

Said man stumbled for a second before regaining his footing and turning to look at Tim. He couldn’t be more than forty, with a bit of an overgrown beard and tired eyes. He had something clutched in one hand, tanned and calloused from work, the other over his chest, probably due to the scare of having a bat suddenly appearing behind him.

“R-Robin…”, he gasped, shook out of whatever reverie he was going through for a second. “W-what… I mean, why are you…?”

‘Okay, Tim, breath. Can’t call B, he’ll notice, get startled and jump. Can I catch him if he does? My grappling hook is made to withstand more than my weight, but if I can’t handle the strain of swinging us both to safety…’

He couldn't risk it.

“Good evening, Mr…?”

Surprise and good manners made the man automatically answer, “Ed. Ed Harrinson.”

Encouraged, Tim took a tiny teeny step forward. Ed’s entire body shock and he leaned backwards. Tim froze, fear keeping his breathing and heartbeat hostages for the time being, stopping the first and kick starting the second.

“Mr Harrinson, I’d like to ask you to step away from the edge? I’ll call an ambulance for you, and…”

“No!”, the man screamed, suddenly over his surprise, a look of determination trying to masquerade his obvious exhaustion. “If you call an’one, I’ll jump.”

Tim wisely kept the ‘you were gonna do it anyway’ to himself. He nodded slowly, hands emerging from the confines of his cape to show Mr Harrinson the lack of a communication device.

“I won’t, then, but may I come closer? Please?”

It was on the last word, high pitched and wavering, that the man cracked. With wary demeanor, he waved him over, pointing to a patch of rooftop a little far but close enough for Tim to feel comfortable- or as comfortable as he’d get, in these circumstances.

As he approached, he could feel the man analyzing him. The little gasp when he stood by his side didn’t go unnoticed.

“You are… smaller than I imag’ned. Too small for a bat. My boy’s taller than you” he mused, likely to himself, but Tim grasped onto that bit of information and clutched at it with both hands, desperately.

“I’m short compared to my peers, so maybe I’m the same age as your son. How old is he?”, he asked, in his most conversational tone. Fear still had a grasp over both his lungs and heart.

Something in the man’s face shifted.

“He… he just turned fifteen.” Older than Tim, then. Ed continued, “He’s… ”, in a second, the sadness was replaced by pride, “he’s grown up p’tty well, if I say so m’self. A fine young man, that kid. He’ll go places.”

For a beat, Tim tried to imagine his own dad here. As much as he’d hate to see Jack in Mr Harrinson’s place, he couldn't help but wonder if he’d be talking about him the same way Ed spoke about his son.

He… didn’t think so. If on the verge of death, thoughts about his son would probably be the farthest from his dad’s mind.

“You sound like you love him very much. He’s a lucky guy” he said sincerely, a tendril of hopefulness still twisted around his stomach. His hands weren’t shaking any longer, finding solace in the fact that the man in front of him didn’t look like he was about to jump right that second.

Mr Harrinson’s face fell.

“Got served an’ unlucky hand, with an old man like me”, his eyes went back to the abyss, to the empty, poor litten streets below them. “Go ‘way, kid. Leave m’ be. Notta business what I do. Gotta do this f’r my kid.”

Fear came back, full force.

“I- Sorry, but I can’t help but think about your son”, he blurted out, the only bit of information he had about the man was his only tendril of hope. “Someone who loves his child as much as you seem to must be a good father. A father that… would be missed dearly, if lost so young.”

Mr Harrinson looked even more devastated. Tim was doing this all wrong, wasn’t he?

“There’s no other way t’ keep’im safe!'' he yelled, and for a minute Tim thought he had decided to jump then and there. Instead, he dropped to his knees, hands to his head, paper still clutched in one fist. “They’ll get to him if I don’t! Once I’m dead, they’ll just leave’im alone!”

Tim crouched next to him, tentative.

“Who is ‘they’, sir? Maybe I could help…”

Ed was already shaking his head.

“Nay, they said not to go to the bats. Kill my boy, they will, if I do. Seen them offing others for less, so I believe them.”

“Ah, but I’m too short to be a bat, am I not?” he smiled, wobbly at best but sincere. “Besides, who’s gonna tell them you spoke to me? I”, he gestured to his mask, “know how to keep a secret.”

He considered for a beat, before tired shoulders fell, defeated. He offered the slip of paper towards him, unseeing eyes on the street below.

Robin read the note carefully, noting the sloppy penmanship and cheap paper as well as the message itself.

“Mr Harrinson…”

“I know”, he whispered, “I know working for the Black Mask wasn’t my best idea. But m’boy needed to eat, and the landlord was gettin’ impatient. And now, for whatever reason, boss wants me dead. And if I make ‘im dirty his own hands, he’ll dirty ‘em twice and send me with my son for company to the other side. Felix is too young, and he’s good. Can’t let ‘im pay f’ his old man m’stakes, ya hear me?”

Tim thought his words over carefully.

“Mr Harrinson… I don’t think this comes from Black Mask himself”, for one, Blackie wasn’t one to avoid blood on his gloves, nor to send such a shitty note. The man lived for the drama, like most A-listers did, and he’d never forgo the aesthetic of an expensive peachment and beautifully worded threat. Also, if he wanted this man gone, he would have put a bullet in his head the second he clocked in; and if it were revenge he was after, he wouldn't have gotten a warning note but his son’s head sent to him instead.

He folded the paper and put it into one of his multiple pockets, free hand going to the man’s shoulder.

“I know Black Mask’s M.O, mister, and this is not it”, no need to spook him further by describing what it was, though. “Probably just a colleague who wanted your position, or has a grudge for whatever reason. And that, I can help you with. If you work with me on this one, we can both make sure Felix has his Dad making breakfast for him tomorrow morning, and all the days after that. After all”, he smiled, no longer uncertain now that he had firm ground to work with, “your son is going places, and he’ll have to be well fed to reach them, right?”

Mr Harrinson’s smile must have had magical properties, Tim thought. There was no other explanation for the way it returned his breath back to his body.

---.----

The next time he saw a jumper, a few months later, he was slightly more ready for it. Bruce had congratulated him on his work with Mr Harrinson, and the subsequent raid they could make on one of Black Mask’s warehouses thanks to the man’s information, but Tim hadn’t been satisfied until he had read every single mission report on the batcomputer about attempted suicides. And succeed ones, too. Need to know what went well and what didn’t, after all.

So when he saw the fifty-something woman crying on top of a tower in City Hall District, he didn’t almost-crash in his attempt to get there in time. He landed softly, making just enough noise to let her know she wasn’t alone, but careful to not startle her.

“It’s a little cold up here, Lady. If you’d like, I can walk you home?”, he tries for cheeky, despite the cold fear nesting in his stomach like a grumpy, spiteful bird.

The woman, sitting by the edge, turned her head to look at him. The movement called attention to her long, strawberry blonde hair, neatly braided, and her pretty diamond earrings. The face under her perfect make up was gaunt and pale, tear tracks cleaning paths of skin to his trained eye.

Despite him interrupting what probably were very private thoughts, she smiled at his approach, kind and polite. It didn’t reach her eyes, but the intent to put him at ease was generous enough.

“I may be a lady, but any adult worth their salt would insist on walking the young child home, instead of the opposite. Besides”, she patted the rooftop under her,” I live here, so it’s not a long walk at all.”

Tim stepped closer, carefully.

“May I sit?”

“I could use the company for a bit”, she accepted, head turning back to the city below.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, before Tim’s soft voice broke it again.

“Is there anything I can do to help convince you not to do it? Please?”

The lady smiled. “You are a very sweet boy.”

“That’s… not an answer. Can I at least know why?”

“Won’t it torment you, in the future, if we speak now?”, she asked a question of her own, turning to face him again. Despite her words, there was nothing but kindness in those deep green eyes. “If you don’t know me, I’m just another one who jumped. If we talk, I’m afraid I might stay with you long after I’m gone. You are too young for that kind of weight.”

Tim swallowed. 

“That’s easily solved, Miss;”, Dick’s rule of thumb; if unsure, always call a lady Miss before Mrs “don’t do it.”

She spared him a long, meaningful look, and he slumped over.

“Not my best, I know, but I’m kinda freaking out now?” She wasn’t like Mr Harrinson, no motive he could see, no strand to pull and unravel her pain. “Please, just… why?”

She patted one of the hands gripping his own knee. His other hand rushed over hers, sandwiching her cold, slim fingers between his gloved palms.

“There’s nothing left for me. I have a nice job, live in a pretty side of town, have friends, and still… it feels so empty. So… Meaningless. Why even bother?”

Tim chewed on her words silently. He was way out of his depth. A tangible, physical problem? He could solve those, no biggie.

Depression, though… that was a different giant to tackle. Was he even prepared enough to?

A strong gust of wind made the lady with braided hair shiver. Without thought, Tim unclasped his cape and draped it over her slim shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, head tilted like a curious woodland animal. Tim felt strongly protective of her, of this kind, sweet lady, who said she had it all, except the one thing that mattered to her.

“I’m used to it”, he shrugged. “This suit is very warm, but cold air often trickles down from the neckline and… well. Gigs of the job and all that.”

The lady tutted, frowning for the first time since Tim arrived.

“That won’t do, young man. You need a scarf. The nights will only get colder from now on.”

He shrugged again.

“I just… don’t have the time to buy one. And I had one, but… There’s these kids who often hang out by the park, and they were so cold, I just couldn't swing by and ignore them. So I gave them my scarf to share between them. I’m just kinda bummed that I don’t have more to make sure they all stay warm.”

The braided haired lady hummed for a second.

“Well… I knit”, she started, carefully. “I don’t have children or grandchildren to give my final products to, so they’ll go to waste after I’m gone. If you’d take them out of my hands, you’ll do me a favor.” 

Tim wanted to say no, unwilling to make this any easier for her, but the chance of getting her away from the edge was enough to quell his voice.

She went and came back within minutes, a big cardboard box balanced over her shaky arms. He rose to help her, meeting the woman halfway through the roof, a good distance away from the abyss.

“This red one would look good with your suit… oh, and the green one, to keep with the theme! Or maybe the yellow one… Shame pink would be such a bad fit for your colors, because that wool is the best I worked with…”

Tim’s hand carefully took said carf out and looked it over. There were about six others in the box.

“I could take this to those kids I mentioned before… It’d still not be enough for all, but more to share between them means less cold.”

She hummed again, looking at the unfinished projects on the bottom of the box.

“If… If you give me a few days…” she muttered. “I mean, I’m in no rush”, a hand vaguely gestured towards the rooftop’s edge. “I could spare a few days finishing those, and you could take them to these kids you spoke about… and maybe, I can help make a few children less cold with this silly hobby of mine.”

Elated beyond words, Tim nodded vigorously, waxing poetry about her work and about just how excited little Ellie would be with this soft, pretty pink scarf.

His patrol route could use a few detours, after all, if that meant keeping Braided Hair Lady away from her roof.

---.----

He was just returning from a late supply run when he bumped into The Cats.

It was in an alleyway, a block off from Mrs Eloise Denvarow (formerly known as Braided Hair Lady). The older woman had caved after three months knowing each other, of Tim passing by her apartment once every other night to pick up her baked goods or knitted masterpieces, to distribute between street kids and working girls, and told him her name. It was said in passing (“Stop with that ‘Lady’ thing, honey. It’s Eloise”), as if lacking importance, when in reality it meant the world to him. Sure, he’d already known, having run a background check on her the minute he came back to the cave after stopping her from jumping, but there was that implicit vow between them, that she wouldn't tell him her name and jump, wouldn’t make him carry its weight on his shoulders forever, so it was… it was a promise, on her end, a reassurance, and Tim wasn’t even embarrassed that he cried in her arms like a baby for ten minutes.

So here he was, a month after that, still riding that high, when the desperate call from below caught his attention.

There were two teens on the dirty ground, nested among cracked bottles and old newspapers. The girl was lying in the boy’s arms, with him screaming for help.

“Robin! Thank fuck!”, he almost sobs, arms visibly tightening around the girl. Tim wants to ask how he knew to call for him, and if the proximity to Mrs Denvarow’s place was luck or not.

But it wasn’t the time to ask.

The girl was pale, which only highlighted the bruises on her face. Someone with a big fist punched her. It doesn't seem likely, considering just how distraught the other kid is, but he checks his hands just in case; fortunately, too small for that kind of damage.

She’s also breathing erratically and, when he puts a gloved hand to her neck, he realizes just how crazy her pulse is. 

Fear Toxin? Except Scarecrow is still in Arkham as far as he knows, and even if he had gotten away recently, he needs time to develop his precious chemicals. Joker’s Venom and Mad’s Hatter drugs don’t have quite this results, and Ivy doesn’t usually attack street girls just for kicks; they are also too far from her usual turf for her to be a viable suspect.

So, that leaves very few choices.

“Overdose?”, he ventures a guess, hand already fumbling through the pockets on his belt.

The other boy sobs harder, nodding while looking down at the girl in his arms. Tim gently takes the girl from him to position her straighter, to help her down the vial he finally found in his belt. It was supposed to help flush out any chemical in a few minutes, tops; they usually used it when a new type of Crazy Criminal Drug made its way to the streets and they didn’t have the time to properly prepare an antidote. It was strong, and vicious in its path to devoid the body of any and all external agents, which was why it wasn’t a preferred method; who’s to say the civilian in need of a flush isn’t in some important medicine? The Big Flush, as Dick calls it, lacked any kind of finesse or discrimination.

But it was their best shot right now, so there goes nothing. 

There’s silence while they watch the girl’s progress. He doesn’t bother asking if he called for an ambulance; they are obviously minors, probably homeless, and even if the Wayne Foundation takes care of children’s hospital fees, they’d avoid it to keep themselves out of the foster system.

But then, the kid kept talking.

“I… I found her near Grant Park. I… I didn’t know what to do, so I dragged her here. She/” and then he breaks again, hands grasping one of hers, as if letting go meant he was giving up on her and he couldn't bear it.

“Grant Park is only five blocks away,” Tim thinks out loud, mind already a mile away “and Moench’s Row illicit night clinic is about the same distance from there as this place. Why did you bring her here?”

“She… Alley… Oh, her name’s Allison, by the way. And I’m Thomas. Tom.” Introductions, miraculously, seem to do the trick here and calm him down. “Nice to meetcha.”

Tim’s not deterred by his toothy grin, but he has to admit he’s kinda cute. Like, stray cat cute.

Huh. Alley, Tom, cat… Yeah, that checks.

“What happened with Allison?” he presses softly, one arm still keeping Alley up and against his chest, the other hand on her pulse point, taking note of the way the heartbeat seems to be stabilizing. The puking fest was gonna start soon.

“She… It was on purpose.” Tom confesses, eyes going clouded for a while. “She tries to not be home, yknow? I met her in kindergarten, and even then she’d try to hide behind the teacher’s desk in hopes they’d forget about her and close the building with her inside. Anyway, we pretty much live on the streets these days, and Alley… she’s very depressed. I convinced her to see someone a while ago, even stol/ I mean, earned the money for it myself”, he’s quick to correct, eyes glancing up to see if he was smooth enough to cover it; which he wasn’t, but Tim was in favor of letting that small one go, “and they gave her a prescription for antidepressants. She’s been kicking it down the road, but she’s gotten a lot worse and I wouldn't lay off her case about it, so she sneaked back home to get some money from her folks to pay for it.”

By the way the kid looks at her bruised face with unmeasurable guilt, Tim knows she didn’t go unnoticed.

“And… I don’t know. We were supposed to meet up by the Commerce Street Highway, but she was late, so I walked around for a bit and… I saw her there, on a bench. She was/ she was still conscious then, and she told me… she said ‘these aren’t what the doc gave me, but they took the pain away all the same’.” Again, Tom chokes on his own emotions. If he had any free hands, he’d try to put one on his shoulder for comfort. “I don’t even know what she took, or where did she get it from!”

Tim has heard whispers of loan sharks and drug dealres camping toghter by the Fashion Distric, just north of Grant Park, so he can make an informed guess as to how that happened. Also, he now knows what he’ll do the rest of the night, once these kids are safe.

When Tom has gotten a grasp of himself, he pushes again.

“So, why did you bring her here?”

He shrugs, a bit abashed.

“Well… I mean, everyone knows about how Mrs Denvarow is the one giving clothes and food away, and that you help her distribute it. Well, not everyone, but… you know, the street kids. We flagged her building with a yellow skull and everything.”

A yellow skull grafitti, Tim’s mind translates, is the street equivalent of a ‘don’t fuck with this place’ sing. A sort of protective sigil. He wonders how he missed it.

“And… This is kind of your thing, right? So I figured you’d be better prepared to deal with it than some overworked clinic that might even not have enough free equipment to help us. Good think I did, too” he gestures at his friend, whose face is now looking flushed; a sign both of growing health, and of the upcoming puke. Tim’s quick to turn her so her back is to his chest, head tilted down just in case.

As if rehearsed, Alley chose that exact second to empty the contents of her now flushed stomach. Tim would need a sample of that, to catch the responsible dealer.

Tom held her hair away from her face while Tim kept her steady, and she blinked bearily at them after it was done, still not completely lucid but a world away from the girl she was ten minutes ago.

“She’ll still need a hospital.'' Tim informs Tom sternly. The boy had taken his friend in his arms again, softly rubbing her back to help with the uncomfortable ache leftover after puking your guts out. “The Moench’s Row clinic should be able to help with any side effect, but she’s safe for now.”

He nods, thanks Tim again and again and politely refuses his help to take her to the clinic. They part ways, both parties probably thinking this would be the last time they saw each other.

Still, their situation sticks with Tim during the rest of his patrol, and he decides to stop by the clinic, just to check on them. His knuckles still ache from the absolute beating he delivered to the ones who gave Alley the money and sold her the drugs, so he’s in better spirits and hopes to spread it to the kids.

Alley is awake when he visits, and her shy, little smile is enough for the rage inside of Tim to die down. The bad guys dealt with, the civilians safe, everything in its proper place.

He sleeps a bit better that night.

---.----

He almost doesn’t see him. 

Actually, he probably wouldn't have, deeply lost into his own head, had the guy been anything other than a redhead. That exact shade of  orangy-brown auburn, that he would have to pick up from his workbench at Titan’s tower after Bart had decided to ‘keep him company’ during his all-nighters. 

It was ironic, how now he would give anything in the world to have those same strands of hair fucking up his experiments, if only for the impish, ‘please-don’t-kill-me-I’m-an-angel’ smile he would receive in exchange.

“Hey”, he greets, landing softly at the man’s right, sitting a few feet away from him, too tired to even stand up on common ground. “What’s happening?”

He shouldn’t be doing this. He really, really shouldn’t. His own mental health was less than stellar, and even thinking about it made him feel worse. He didn’t deserve to feel bad, not when civilians were in the hospital after his latest fuck up, Cass was missing, Cassie barely hanging in there, the family a mess with Damian’s lovely introduction, and… well. Every other person he knew…

Point being, there must be someone else, in a better inner place, that could speak to this guy. But since no one seemed to be patrolling this route, Tim could only hope to stall him long enough for a more capable vigilante to show up.

The guy looks startled, then angry. He has green eyes, he notices, under the glasses. Not sure why that sticks to him.

“What are you doing here? You’re not going to try to stop me, are you? You’re not going to swing down and catch me in mid air or something, are you?”

He seems defensive, but Tim notices a bit of hesitancy. He has worked with less.

(He wishes he had more energy to do more with what little he has)

“No. If I did, what’s to stop you from doing it again later, or tomorrow? I can’t be with you every second.  If you want to do this, you are going to, no matter how much I don’t want you to. And I don’t want you to, just so we are clear.”

The guy still looks suspicious, but he hasn’t taken that last step forward, so… a win?

“I just needed to sit down for a minute. ‘been thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up lately, and…”

Auburn-hair deflates a little, turning away from Tim to examine the night sky. “Well, that makes two of us.”

The bat signal lights up the night. His newfound companion looks at it, then him. “Do you need to get that?”

“Nah. Batman will, and if he needs help he’ll call me.” Tim shrugs. He needs a coffee-power-up. He needs to sleep. He needs for his loved ones to not be dead.

He needs to see if there’s anything he can do for this guy.

“So, do you want to tell me why you’re doing this? So someone can go to your family and friends to let them know?”

After all, if it was him who did it (and… wasn’t that food for thought?), he’d like Bruce and Dick to know why. To not… to not blame themselves.

Redhead looks annoyed again. Uh. A short fuse, this one.

“Don’t try any psychology, or try to make me feel guilty about hurting anyone… this isn't about anyone but me.”

He shouldn’t say it, but… “That’s pretty naive,  but whatever. Tell me anyway.” He smirks a bit, then “Unless you’re in a hurry or something.”

He hears the guy (he really should ask his name) as he tells his story. A cold, clinical part of his mind recognizes the symptoms described almost unconsciously by the guy as depression. He would know, after all. The other part of him, the part that made him Robin, that made him human, discarded the label; there was much more to this guy than his illness, and he would treat him like it.

“So here I am,” he finishes, now sitting side by side with Tim, both their legs hanging above the bustling city. “Now’s when you tell me how stupid this is. That other people have much bigger problems, there’s hunger and war, and I’m weak because my problems are nothing next to stuff like that.”

Tim thinks of a father, desperately thinking his death would save his son’s life, when in fact it would have only made it worse. He thinks of a woman, so full of love and warmth, looking into the abyss and feeling empty inside. He thinks of a couple of kids, one hanging to life with nails and teeth, the other hanging to her just as fiercely.

He thinks about himself. About looking at a future version of himself, hating what he sees, and deciding to drown the bud before it can even flower. He thinks of sickly green water, of cloning equipment in a laboratory, of a phone falling to the ground after delivering him with more bad news.

He’s still in a bad place, still probably not the most capable person to be doing this, but a part of him is sure this is the right answer. The only answer.

“No. Your problems are worse than anyone else’s, because they are yours. I’ve... felt bad like you have, and some pretty bad things have happened to me.”

Red hair looks as tired as Tim feels, so it’s a surprise that he has enough energy to glance at him worriedly, hand stretching a bit in his direction in a half-formed attempt to comfort.

“You guys make it look so easy, swinging around, having fun… Things get bad for you, too?”

Tim looks down, and smiles. It’s a sad, bitter thing. He thinks about parents lost before ever connecting to them, about a girlfriend going away, a sister lost to the madness of their lives, about two best friends gone, one even dying in his arms. 

He gives no details. Doesn’t talk about it all, just shares a little bit of himself. It’s only fair, after hearing about this guy’s demons. Misery loves company, doesn’t it?

“So what do you do? How do you deal with it?” the guy asks when he’s done, looking at Tim by the corner of his not-very-dry eyes.

Tim forces himself to remember. “One of the things I’ve learned is that it gets bad for everyone sometimes, Superman, Batman… everyone. I remember that I’m not alone, that things do get better. Sometimes on their own, most times when you work at them. And when I have trouble remembering those things, I find people to talk to.”

Most of those were dead, but Tim is hit with the epiphany that not all of them are. He still has people. He still…

“And you’ve got people like that? That you can talk to?” asks the guy, tone both worried and hopeful. Tim stands up, does his best to look calm.

“Yeah. Your folks, and old friend, even a trained counselor you’ve never met before… someone who has a totally different perspective because they’re not as close to your problems as you are. Maybe they give you advice, and that’s great… or maybe they just listen. Sometimes, that’s all you need. Anyway, that’s how I deal with it when things suck. And it works. Want to come down from there and give it a try?”

The guy gets back to his feet, as Tim watches from behind. Having been in this situation before, the fear grabbing a hold of him isn’t new, but it's different. He thinks he's too worn down. It takes the edge off of any emotion. 

Except hope. Hope still hurts like a sharp knife when it’s snatched away. He prays it won’t be, right now.

Green eyes (Jason- that’s who they reminded him of) look down, deep in thought. Then he turns, smiles at Tim. There’s hope in him too.

“Yeah, why not?”

They get down together. He gives him a few numbers and they have breakfast together. The guy promises to call his English teacher, at least. Tim promises himself to call his brother.

At least, he still has Dick.

---.----

He’s been putting off doing his rounds since he came back, he knows. But…

It changed him, a bit. Going around the world, dealing with his grief while staying on his toes, ready to break down one second and having to field off attacks from all sides the next, with the Demon’s honeyed whispers echoing in his ear and mind. 

He’ll never tell anyone, just how tempting it had been. How much he had wanted to reach for that offered hand. To lay his head on someone’s shoulder and let the responsibility bleed from his.

Tim will never tell anyone, but he’ll always know. And it’ll always make him hate himself a little bit more.

So, he’s different now. And he’s scared- that the people he gave hope to, that he talked with, that he could never stop thinking about, even halfway across the world- that they won’t like this new, worn down him.

That Mr Harrinson the Good Father, Braided Hair Lady and her sweaters, the inseparable Stray Cats, the girl with the bright yellow cardigan, the kid with the scarred wrists, the woman with beautiful star-like freckles that she’ll hopefully pass on to her baby, the gentle giant man with calloused hands, the petite but fierce young teen with defiant eyes and dead name, the soft spoken girl with the loudest laugh, auburn-haired boy and his hopeful and sympathetic green eyes… and so, so many more. They all knew him, maybe not at his best, but certainly better than now. The boy that kept them from jumping had been a bright, magical Robin. The teen that came back to their city was dark, weary Red Robin. It felt kinda like he had cheated them, returning this broken version of himself to their doorsteps.

But he had to go check on all of them. Even if Cass (and it was such a relief, that even after he lost everything else, the return of his sister could at least be a speck of light in the mist of misery surrounding him) had promised to do so, there were so many of them… and she couldn't possibly remember everyone, all the time. And if anyone had fallen through the gaps… if anyone had stood on a rooftop, waiting for their Robin to save them, only to think ‘nobody cares’ as he didn’t show up…

Tim gets sick only thinking about it. If it did happen, then he needs to know. He has to carry their names with him, that’s the least he can do for failing them.

So he’ll go check on them… anytime now. Soon. The moment he gathers enough energy to climb back to his feet and get his grapple hook out.

...The city looks full of life, beneath him. Like it feels the return of its Knight. The end of the internal quarrel among it’s vigilantes, that almost tore it all apart. The relief in Nightwing, the hesitant peace in Red Hood, the mellowing of Robin.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the worst ways)

Maybe it also feels Red Robin’s emptiness. Maybe that’s why it's so lively down there, like the ground is calling to him, just as it did when Ra’s broke the window with his body.

He thinks... he won’t have to check on anyone, if he jumps. And that way, there will be no name to carry with him to his grave.

“Robin!”

“Stop!”

“Don’t do it, please!”

He startles. Hadn’t even noticed when he got to his feet, nor that one of them was hanging over the abyss. The fact that he wasn’t alone on that rooftop any longer hadn’t even breached his usually perfect spatial awareness.

They didn’t call for him, but the voices sounded distraught, they were close, and he was a former Robin, so he turned around, tired, but with obedience and service too ingrained in him to consider denying help to whoever it was.

It turned out, he wouldn't need to go make his rounds any longer. His rounds had come to him.

There were… too many people on this roof. It was way too crowded.

“Robin!”

It was one voice now, not a mixture of them, so he could identify the one yelling his former alias. Allison broke from the mob of people (and there were more still, filling in from the open rooftop door, like a never-ending stream…) to run to him, looking like she might have just jumped into his arms, if not for Tom clutching her hoodie to stop her a few feet from him. Good move, considering he was still balancing precariously on the edge.

“Alleycat?” he whispered, a little blown. She looked so different (magenta looked amazing on the tips of her hair, and she totally pulled off that lip piercing), but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He’d been so relieved, when she first opened them after that dangerous overdose.

“We were so fucking worried, dude”, came from Tomcat just behind her, still gripping her hoodie (still keeping her safe; some things never change).

“I…”

“Where were you?” Maddie, not longer yellow but still wearing a cute cardigan, stepped up too.

“I’m… I’m not Robin”, he blurts out. They… knew it was him?  It… like, obviously there was a new Robin, Damian was (still, but probably not for much longer) smaller than him, but to immediately know that he was…

“Yeah, no shit. I’d know that long hair and noodle limbs of yours anywhere, kid. Known you too long to be fooled. And the new kid’s really trigger happy with that lon’nife of his... You’re still the Robin I prefer, and fuck if I understand the name passing you heroes do” Mr Harrinson spoke from the back of the crowd, one hand clutching his kid’s shoulder, the other arm around…

“Braided Hair Lady?”

Eloise smiles at him, soft and warm as ever, a little shy when his eyes go to the arm hugging her close and back to her. He recognizes some of her handmade scarfs around the necks of plenty of people on the roof. 

“I… wasn’t aware you all knew each other.”

A petite young teen steps forward, walking until they were shoulder-to-shoulder with the Strays.

“Most of us met through the app, and then introduced the others. There’s more, of course, but not everyone could meet here. Samantha’s baby was born just two months ago, so she chose to stay home, but we promised her pictures, so you’ll have to say cheese soon birdboy. Also, I found my name. I’m Cal.”

Allison’s smile broadened and she sneaked an arm around Cal’s waist.

“They are the new Straycat. Calico cat’s are the cutest shit ever, aren’t they?”

Well… Having someone as badass as Cal watching Tom and Alley’s back would sure make Tim feel a lot better about both kids being out in the streets. 

Were they still on the streets? He’d need to find out and fix that, soon.

Then it hit him. “What app?”

Auburn-hair smiled from his place, at the front of the crowd just behind the Cats.

“Felix over there,” he pointed over his shoulder at Mr Harrinson’s son, who smiled shyly at Tim, eyes shining in gratitude and admiration like they always did when Tim did his rounds and checked on his dad, “defended you in a GothamHeroes forum once. Some bratty douchebag was complaining about you landing over his car or something and this kid went for his fucking troath.”

“I was in that chat too,” spoke Tom, smiling a little too savagely for a kid that sweet. “He tore the idiot to shreds, speaking about how you saved his dad’s life and took it upon yourself to make sure he was still okay even weeks after you met. I mentioned how you saved Alley and Mrs Denvarow, we exchanged numbers… then we met Cal during one of our rounds handing out Mrs D’s scarfs and food. They were weary of everyone else, but trusted us because they heard you talk about the clothes and baked goods... And Cal’s friend Gina worked with Samantha on the streets and told them about her story...”

“Soon, it seemed like people personally saved by you were just… popping out of the snow like daisies” Blair laughed, and it was still the loudest, brightest noise. The night seemed a little clearer, the air a little fresher for it. “Felix made his own private chat and added us, and we added everyone else we knew… The word went around about it, and more and more people joined in…”

“It’s really a wonder how you had any time to fight crime, seeing how often you were apparently comforting jumpers on the roofs” Ailbert, still as gigantic and gentle as always, raised a hand from the middle of the group. He had a little girl on his shoulders, probably the baby niece he had taken in after his sister’s death. 

“Then the new kid appeared and Gotham went to hell on a basket, and no one saw you around any longer”, Elijah, wrists no more scarred than the last time he saw him, his arm tangled with Maddie’s, went on. “We were… well, we were a bit confused.”

“Speak for yourself, Cal jumped Red Hood one night, held him at knife point and demanded to know what the fuck happened to our Robin. We were like, zero chill.”

“Sorry, they did what?” Tim was definitely in the twilight zone now. 

“No thoughts, head empty, only murder”

...Tim needed to give Jason a quick call. Also sign Cal up for anger management. And probably, judging by the way both Alley and Tom were looking at them, get one of the adults to give them the talk.

Mrs Eloise smiled at him, and like always it served to calm his nerves. That woman was a different kind of magic than Alfred, but magic indeed. “Anyway, dear, what matters is that we were worried about you. And then this incredible young man, Aaron,” she waved at him, and he winked one of his green eyes in response, “suggested we kept in closer contact with one another, so anyone who spotted you could inform the others.”

Aaron shrugged, his auburn mane of hair bobbing with the movement. “It just seemed like it’d be easier to have an alarm set up, since messaging everyone would take so long… and then someone suggested making a map of Gotham so we could have clearer routes for the kids handing out Mrs Denvarow’s stuff… and someone wanted a shared blackboard to write theories on where the fuck you were with others… and a few demanded a space to share photos, possible sightings or old selfies with you… It kinda spiralled and I thought it’d be less of a chaotic mess if I made an app that could do all of that, instead of all of us using multiple apps for the different fixtures everyone asked for… Since this is Gotham, we also added some Rouge Alarm for whenever a criminal was set loose. It helped keep us safe, and if we knew when crime was happening, we could pay attention to which heroes answered the call…”

“And then, you fought that firefly guy the other day”, Felix said, still by his dad’s side, still looking as awed as ever when looking at tim. “I was in the crowd, and I recognized you within a minute.”

“I don’t really understand technology that well, and the group chat was such a mess that day” Ailbert lamented, but he was still smiling. They all were.

That hit Tim then, hard. 

They all looked so happy to see him. To have him back. They had been waiting for him to be back, banded together to make sure they’d all know when he did.

“You looked so sad the last time we saw you” Blair added softly, sadly. “And… when you saved Aaron, you told him about such sad things…”

Elijah winced “And I heard the Midnighter fell from Wayne Tower a few weeks ago, but then he was never seen around again, and your suit looks kinda similar, so that was probably really you… and, that fall…”

“We were very worried” repeated Eloise, but her eyes didn’t lose their warmth. “But you’re back now, and we can keep track of you and each other now, so it’s all good. It’s wonderful to have you back, love.”

This was an out of body experience.

Something must have shown on his face, because Cal snorted.

“We adore you, you dumbass. You are our hero.”

Alley smiled. “You are our Robin.”

Tim fell into her arms, and away from the roof’s edge. The rest of the crowd was upon them in seconds, all eager to pat his back or joke about the cowl hiding his hair from their hands.

He met eyes with Aaron, over Alley’s shoulder. He looked like the hope Tim had helped plant in his heart all those months ago had flowered, and the petals filled his heart.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the best ways)

“You should download the app too, so you always have someone to talk to. Look it up. It’s called BirdWatchers, because we’ll always look up and out for you. Because when we wanted to jump, you lended us your wings to fly instead.”

It was like this fucker wanted Tim to cry.

“Welcome home, Red Robin.”

[arcadejohn127-9]

It's okay, I'm here, I'm real

indulgence and vent based on a event that has happened to me somewhat recently but it's been long enough that I've gotten over it but still sucks that it happened - reminder, just because there are bad experiences with weed doesn't mean it's evil, just means be careful and smart about where you get and much you take - how you feel whilst doing it can heavily influenced what kind of trip you'll have

Be smart and responsible, know your limits and always have someone you trust with you

Mammon is irresponsible as always and Lucifer is there to comfort him. Big brother is going to make sure he's safe and okay whilst he goes through a bad drug trip because no matter how much they argue and insult each other they will always have each others backs

Angst/comfort

Warning: weed, bad drug trip, angst, sudden panic attacks, detailed descriptions of trip, drugs, taking too much drugs, heavy dissociation

It wasn't supposed to be like this; he thought it would be fine. He forced himself to breathe. Slowing his sudden gasps as his heart spiked. He could feel his mind blur as the weed finally kicked in. It hit him all at once and his skull pounded; the left side of his face was buzzing like a hive.

He mentally cursed at himself for being reckless but they were such small brownie slices! He didn't expect it to hit this hard.

He wanted to break down and sob his heart out but he had to stay calm; he was on the verge of a panic attack.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was marching down to his younger brothers room. Snarling to himself as he knew he was going to confront mammon ONCE AGAIN this week; he really wished that he would just be responsible for once.

The eldest demon threw open the door.

"Mammon, I said keep your habits in your own room! I had to stop Beel from eating every single brownie you left in the fridge-"

His lips immediately flew shut; his eyes landing on the rigid form of the younger demon. Eyes screwed shut and Barely keeping his breathing steady. Lucifers eyes landed on the plate beside him; already able to connect the dots.

Lucifer slowly approached, trying not to stress mammon even further. Mammons eyes opened once again; they were glassy and obviously he was holding back tears. The whites of his eye already turning red.

"how- how long has it been?"

"What do you mean?" He sat down beside him, watching closely to the males expression.

"I heard you coming and I closed my eyes and now you're here- how....how long did I have my eyes shut for...?"

Lucifers chest clenched; he always seen Mammon get hurt or in an unpleasant situation but this was breaking his heart. Mammons hands were shaking as he was trying grasp the world around him; nodding to himself as he was gripping to any spec of reality he could get.

"only for a few moments, mammon."

"seriously?! It felt like hours." He laughed, leaning back on his bed, still dazed.

"How many did you take? You're obviously not having a good trip, I haven't seen you like this since you first started."

"it was only 4! And they were tiny! Did you see em?"

He did, in fact see them. That was the whole reason he was even here; because he saw a pile of mini brownies all wrapped up and stuffed lazily into the fridge. He announced his annoyance just seconds ago but he can't blame his brother for not processing it all; he wished he would be more careful.

"I did....I did see them, let's get you comfortable."

He helped mammon take off his jacket, shifting to grab a nearby hoodie. He sniffed it to make sure it was still fresh through he was mammon didn't care at this point. After putting mammon in the hoodie he guided him to lay on the bed.

Mammon felt another sharp spike of panic seeing his brother leave his side. Weakly grabbing out to him as tears rolled down his cheeks, Lucifer patted his hand. Softly reassuring him he's not leaving. Lucifer pulled the blanket over his brother before taking off his coat, neatly placing it on the chair.

He mumbled sweet 'im here' as he came back to his brothers side. Crawling on the bed on the other side of him and laid down. He embraced mammon from behind, the other male gripping his brother's arms as he let out shaky sighs of relief.

You see, mammon was so relived. Why? Because Lucifer felt real. He was real. His clothes, his hold, his arm - it all felt real. He desperately clung to his brothers arms as he got comfortable in his bed. Lukcily, it was big enough for the both of them but it was still somewhat a squeeze.

But right now that didn't bother Mammon. He just needed to feel something solid. The world around his was weightless; false. All just a blurred background to trick him. More tears came out; curling into himself as he mentally reminded himself that it'll all go away. This feeling wil go away.

"I hate.....I hate feeling like this again....it's been centuries since I've had one this bad- I hate it - I hate it so bad...."

"I know, I'm here, just get some sleep - it'll make it go away faster."

Lucifer leaned his forhead against the back of mammons head. Giving him a gentle squeeze. For a moment Mammon panicked; Lucifer sounded like how he did in his dreams. Those dreams never ended well for him. He always got hurt.

Together, they breathed in and out. Slow steady breathes coming out if the both of them.

"I know but- whenever I close my eyes I feel like I'm dreaming - I can't - I can't tell the difference..."

"I'll tell you how long it's been, just rest."

"it's been an hour, Mammon, go back to sleep."

Despite his reluctance, he nodded. Mammon closed his eyes, trusting his brother. He laid there; unable to tell when he was finally asleep. It was strange because he wasn't tired at all and yet it was effortless. Or maybe it wasn't; he had no idea. It was all just darkness within darkness. He could sense the world shifting as he kept his eyes closed.

Finally, he awoke. Feeling more refreshed and for a few moments - sober. He felt fine. Normal. Grounded. But those feelings weren't going to last. Lucifer noticed his awakening, patting mammons arm and sighed tiredly.

"it's okay, I got you." Lucifer always had him, no matter what.

"an- an hour-?!" His voice squeaked, pain coming out as he let the words echo in his head in disbelief.

Was eternity really only an hour? Was this how it was going to be? He'd wake up every hour still experiencing this awful trip and unable to tell if he was even actually awake.

Mammons tried to go back to sleep; his legs suddenly twitching and jerking. He couldn't remember when that happened. But he was being persistent; sleeping was going to fix this. He was sure belphegor would be amazing at this.

Next time his eyes opened; they immediately went for the clock that's by his bed. He was vaguely aware of the time before he closed his eyes; but at what time did he close his eyes? Was it the first time he closed his eyes or the most recent? When was the most recent?

He whimpered and groaned to himself, moving his hair out of his face. He was able to see through his fringe but it felt odd - it was like looking through a TV screen. Everything behind his hair was far away but yet, he could still see it if it was up close. Being free from his hairs tricks he got to have a another moment of being sober.

Lucifer was sleeping. He spend the past couple of hours just staring at the wall, not wanting to disturb mammon. Soon enough he always went to Dreamland; bored of waiting. But somewhere in his brain he could still sense the world as If he was conscious; sensing mammon was once again awake.

"It's been 3 hours - it'll be over soon." His voice was groggy but mammon was thankful the change didn't make him panic.

He is legs kept twitching and moving. He couldn't stop it. His body was just moving on his own. Lucifer moved one of his arms much to mammons dismay; grabbing a water bottle Asmodeus left not too long ago. He handed it to mammon.

"Drink, you'll need it."

Mammon was in no position to say otherwise. His mouth dryer than a dessert. He chugged down the water until he felt satisfied; closing his eyes once again and let himself drift through sleep and uncertainty.

Next thing the both of them knew was Mammon was keeping close to the edge of the bed. Mumbling about falling off the edge. But he couldn't move; he kept hunching like was going to throw up. He kept taking large gulps of water as he his mouth kept drying up in moments.

Lucifer rubbed his back, trying to keep him from throwing up. That would only cause the poor demon to have a panic attack and he didn't need to be struggling to breathe mid way through barfing.

Thankfully; time flew by at last and it was the next day. Both brothers still snored as they held onto each other. The other brothers checked in to make sure they were okay, mammon had plenty of water and Lucifer has some snacks to eat.

It was going to be okay

He was okay

Thank father it's okay

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt81

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

As soon as the portal closed behind them Chloe and Luka dropped their transformations. Marinette was once again piggybacking Chloe as they turned to look at Tikki and the other Kwami. She hadn't wanted to transform again because she wasn’t certain what Tikki had done and was worried the other four would disappear along with her. She couldn’t afford to have the League members find out if they were just temporary, and she had no way to ask Tikki with them all there.

“You couldn’t have given me some type of heads up or warning?” It was so strange talking to Tikki while she was in human form. It also hadn’t escaped her that all five of the Kwami were in her designs and she wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or if Tikki had just picked the first things that had come to mind.

“I’m sorry Marinette. I’m tired of watching them treat you like that and I had to do something. I was going to discuss this with you to see if you were okay with it but I really do think you could use the extra help and they volunteered.” So not temporary then, that would require some serious thought. “As I said Plagg can destroy their bodies so if you don’t want to keep them here it’s an easy fix.”

“It’s not that.” Marinette just sighed. This was just one more complication that she really didn’t know how to deal with at this point. “They’ll need identities, papers, and I have no idea how to go about getting those. I’ll need to look for a much bigger place than I was thinking and I’m not sure I can afford that yet and be able to renovate it for wheelchair access as well. Not to mention-” She cut off as Damian shoved his phone in her face. She’d noticed him on it but assumed he was trying to calm down his family. On the screen was a huge house not too far from her current school.

“What do you think of this?” She could only blink at the screen for a moment before she grabbed the phone to get it at a better distance so she could read it properly. It wasn’t a house either, it was a freaking mansion. Twelve bedrooms, fourteen bathrooms, two kitchens for crying out loud, and that wasn’t counting the guest house, or groundskeepers house or whatever it was. It was three stories plus a basement but it did have an elevator. Then she looked at the price.

“Damian there’s no way I can afford that right now, and honestly it’s probably too big.” He was shaking his head before she’d even finished.

“You don’t need to afford it. Since I’m staying here for the foreseeable future I need a more permanent residence that lives up to the Wayne name and can house whatever family members happen to show up. If it happens that when I end up leaving Paris you like it and can afford it you can buy it from my father, but until then since you’re such a ‘good influence’ on me he thinks us staying in the same residence will be beneficial to the both of us. And don’t worry about documentation for your new friends, Alfred is already preparing everything.”

She could only stare at him. He’d said everything in such a matter of fact tone, as though her answer were a foregone conclusion. She wanted to be annoyed with him but she knew it was his way of showing support and caring. She looked back at the phone and really looked at the pictures. The front entrance didn’t have steps and there were at least two bedrooms on the first floor. Even with the elevator she’d rather not have to be dependent on it in case of repairs or power outages. It could work.

“Fine, but I’m paying for any renovations that need to be made for me. And I’m paying rent since there will be five of us living there and I have a feeling Chloe will be there more often than not.” Damian just raised an eyebrow at her.

“I can tell my father that but he won’t listen. This won’t be a drain on our resources at all and he’ll want you to save for your future. I will try to talk to him though.” That sounded about right. When you have money to just throw at a problem you don’t necessarily consider how other people will see it. Damian was tapping away on his phone again and frowning in annoyance.

“He says if it will make you feel better about it you can be the family designer and instead of rent comp the materials. Sadly enough that probably will work out about right given how many of us there are.” She blinked at that. Sure, the materials wouldn’t be cheap but the exposure she’d get from the Waynes wearing her designs exclusively would far outweigh the cost. Damian was now scowling at his phone. “He also wants to see if you’d be willing to work with our R&D department to make materials for protection that can be put into all sorts of clothing. We actually commissioned you for suits with Kevlar once and he was very impressed with both the utility and design.”

“I remember those. It was a fun challenge if a rather odd request. Granted I didn’t think it was too strange given the amount of people in the public eye that get attacked.” But could she really just let Bruce Wayne pay for her housing like this? Wouldn’t people talk? It could hurt his reputation to be housing a teenager. At best they would think he was keeping his son happy by keeping his girlfriend close, at worst… she didn’t even want to think about it.

“He also wants to circulate a story that you were attacked after you revealed yourself as the designer behind Functional Fashion and that’s how you were paralyzed. Between that and having you actually work with Wayne Enterprises it would make sense that we would be concerned about your safety enough to house you in a secure location.” But would it?

“What if my parents technically lived there as well? Maybe even in the guest house or whatever. They wouldn’t be there much because of the bakery but I think it would help with the public image if they were part of it as well.” She didn’t realize until she said it that it meant she was agreeing to this plan. Given the satisfied look on Damian’s face he realized it too.

“And we can have the Kwami make appearances as your staff. Digg would obviously be a bodyguard. Primm looks more like a customer service type or receptionist, and Jett perhaps something with design or tailoring? They don’t have to actually do anything but if the press thinks they’re living at the house because that’s your base of operations it would help. Lyccen…” He seemed at a loss for the Kwami of Anarchy. Granted they could change her look if they had to but she had a feeling Tikki had chosen their attire for a reason.

“Personal assistant. The way people view the disabled everyone will assume my having someone with me all the time to help with things is completely normal.” As much as she hated to say it, it was true. If she could afford to pay someone to help her with normal day to day tasks that were ‘harder’ in a wheelchair no one would question it. Especially since she’d only just lost the use of her legs. As much as she wanted to be independent she could see the use of having a ruse in place to make it seem like she wasn’t. “But how do you plan to get around the fact that there was no police report? Or hospital stay for that matter?” It was a problem she’d been trying to figure out herself. How was she just supposed to show back up paralyzed when she had absolutely no explanation or proof for what happened.

“My father invited you to Gotham to talk about this collaboration and you were attacked there. We are very private and prefer to deal with things in house so it won’t be hard for him to convince the Commissioner to make a report after the fact. We can falsify medical and travel records easily enough.” It was amazing how much morally gray area there was when all you’re doing is trying to save the world.

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[reviee]

three prologue | 1 | 2 |

summary: Post-war. Canon-divergent. In which Team 7 governs Konoha, much to Sakura’s dismay. —SasuSaku

note: third installment of my multichap fic (im surprised, too) and finally my extremely long headcanon of how sasuke tells sakura about the massacre exists. also, read on ffn for easier viewing, linked in the title.

Sakura finds Sasuke’s chakra signature on the south side of the village before she arrives. She is soothed by the feeling, in contrast to the early days of his desertion, when she felt anxiety at every turn.

“Sasuke-kun,” she calls to him and he turns around, looking so painfully familiar to her, as if they were going to meet Team 7, in the way that they did when they were twelve.

They walk together silently, stopping at an empty plot of land. She recognizes it as the old Uchiha district, emptied after the destruction Pein had wreaked on Konoha. Sasuke quickly forms hand seals, and a stone appears, a sharingan carved into its center.

“I’ve been here before,” Sakura says to him softly, looking around. She pauses, wondering if she should divulge the reasons that she had been here. It doesn’t matter anymore, she thinks, if they are to go forward.

She can feel Sasuke’s eyes on her, but they are not accusatory, only curious.

“After you left, I did some studying, on you, Itachi, the Uchiha clan…” to find you, is what she leaves unsaid.

She looks around the field, remembering the old and abandoned buildings that had been here before.

“Most things about the clan were classified, of course, but sometimes I helped Tsunade-sama after hours at the Hokage Tower. Under the properties owned by the Uchiha clan, this was one of them.”

Sakura remembers, as a thirteen-year-old girl, running around frantically attempting to find information on one missing teammate, while her other teammate had also left her behind. For two and a half years she was alone, spending the majority of her time with Tsunade, and only rarely seeing Kakashi.

Kakashi had been embarrassed, she knows now, because he had been naive in his reassurance that everything would be alright. Still, she thinks, she would have liked it if he had at least practiced taijutsu with her. He was, after all, still her mentor.

But, she supposes, she had been Kakashi’s student only insofar as he was Team 7’s leader. To him, Sasuke was his pupil, the one he had passed raikiri down to, and that student had now been using it on his friends.

“There was nothing here, except empty houses,” she looks at the sharingan on the ground, illuminated by dim moonlight, “nothing I could see, anyway.”

“It’s a special seal,” he tells her, “for sharingan users. This is the nakano shrine, where the Uchiha clan held their meetings.”

She nods and they walk descend into the structure. She spots at the far end of the room they enter, a pedestal with a blank stone tablet on it.

“What is it?”

“It is the monument that contains all of the clan’s secrets,” Sasuke replies, “You need the sharingan to read it, and some parts can only be read by those with the mangekyo.”

She nods, unsurprised by the clan’s level of secrecy. Growing up, the disappearance of the Uchiha clan should have been a huge scandal, but she had only heard whispers of a deserter and the word massacre. She knows now that the Hokage must have covered it up and looking at the scrolls had only confirmed that there had been little information disseminated about it.

Even now, she thinks, looking at Sasuke, nobody in the village knew much about the whole clan that had disappeared.

She wonders if it is alright for her to know about this.

“So,” he breaks the silence once again, “you read the scroll I left you.”

She nods. She had a suspicion that it was Sasuke who had left the scroll for her last night, unsealed, but it is good that he is confirming it. She had wondered if this was going to be an open secret between them, or if perhaps he had a point in doing so.

He had known about the truth behind the massacre, she realizes, and Naruto must have, too. Why didn’t anyone tell me, she wants to know, but remembers being left behind, and tells herself she should have expected it.

But, still, she thinks about Sasuke telling her, in his own way, and wonders why.

“I did,” she confirms, “I had no idea.”

He is silent for a moment. “Me neither,” he tells her honestly, “Itachi shouldered the burden all by himself,” he pauses, looking at her.

“That’s what being on the Konoha Council means to me.”

Sakura understands. Last night, she had thought, so this is the truth that Sasuke-kun lives with. She realizes that divulging this information might have been only a part of their roles as council members, but she nevertheless feels connected to him in a way that she hadn’t before.

“Then,” she walks up to the pedestal, standing next to Sasuke, “we should honour his memory.”

“Aa,” he agrees, and picks up the tablet, “I want to fill this with information about my mangekyo, and possibly the rinnegan, as well. There’s only been very few who have awakened the former, and only me who has the latter. For the sake of the clan, I think it’d be prudent to.

“Will you help me, Sakura?”

“Of course, Sasuke-kun,” she replies without hesitation, and he nods.

It is rare for Sasuke to ask her, of all people, for help. He is often reluctant to accept her efforts, even for the smallest injuries, and she understands that sometimes it is because he does not want to trouble her. Don’t bother, he’ll say, as if to tell her, don’t bother with me. But she had never been good at leaving him alone.

“Let’s go, then,” he puts the tablet back down on the pedestal and blows out the torch. “Didn’t you say you were going to cook dinner?”

She grins, thinking about the fresh tomatoes that she had bought that morning, and follows him out.

.

 .

 They eat dinner in silence, but she does not mind because he looks satisfied. She wonders how long it has been since someone has cooked for him and feels happy to be able to do so.

He washes the dishes without being asked to and she dries them. They are synchronized, in a way that Sakura hasn’t felt since their genin days, and she is lulled into a sense that this could be their future.

Sasuke sits on the floor of her living room, his legs crossed primly and his back straight. She kneels in front of him, and watches as he closes his eyes, before she sucks in a breath and places her hands on his face.

“I’m in your care,” he murmurs, and her heart flutters.

Sakura is astonished at the complexity of Sasuke’s sharingan. She had, before the war, briefly examined Kakashi’s eye, which was wholly imbued with what she knew now as Obito’s presence in addition to his own, as two chakras working together. The way it had been implanted had also been rudimentary, but effective, confirmed by the decade of rigorous use Kakashi had gotten out of it. She had been amazed by Rin Nohara’s ability to so rapidly unravel the way that the eye worked, and hopes that she can do the same, for Sasuke’s sake.

She had also seen firsthand how much chakra the sharingan depleted—Kakashi’s inability to deactivate it slowly and continuously burned chakra, even when it had been covered by the headband.

Unlike Kakashi’s eye, Sasuke’s eye is imbued with many chakras: she feels the foreign presence of the chakra that fuels the rinnegan, and the dominance and tightly controlled presence of Sasuke’s own chakra, but most of all, she feels the languid presence of Itachi’s chakra, peaceful and yet overpowering.

She feels the immensity of Sasuke’s sharingan, especially in conjunction with the rinnegan, and understands better how strong he is. It frightens her a little.

They sit like this for a better part of two hours, taking only short breaks so that she could write notes. Sasuke does not say a word, but she is reassured by the sounds of his even breathing. Sometimes she indulges in the sight of the soft lines of his lips, slightly parted, and wonders what it would be like to kiss him. Somehow, despite everything, she feels twelve again.

“Sakura,” he says, catching her wrist in his hand, “let’s stop for tonight. You’re getting tired.”

She blinks and realizes that she has used an immense amount of chakra by intricately tracing his pathways. She lets her arms fall to her lap. Sasuke’s hand lingers for a moment, before he returns it to his side.

She sighs and sits next to him, her back leaning against the couch. She glances at him, blushes, and decides to lean her head against his shoulder. It’s the least he could do, she decides, although she feels slightly apprehensive.

“There’s something else I want to show you,” he tells her quietly, apparently fine with this act of intimacy, and adds, “if you’re not too tired.”

Without lifting her head, she replies, “I’m fine.”

He is silent, and then she feels his fingers on her forehead, just as she had felt them on the day he left for his journey. She remembers the warmth from then, and feels it even stronger now, and realizes that he is transferring chakra to her.

“Sasuke-ku—”

“Just wait,” he tells her, keeping his fingers on her forehead. She closes her eyes.

Suddenly her mind is filled with images—they are hazy, as if she was in a dream, and she realizes it is the Konoha from more than a decade ago. This is the sharingan’s genjutsu, she thinks, and it is so real that she feels the heat of the sun on her cheeks.

She sees a young Sasuke, at four years old, sitting next to Itachi. No, she thinks, these are Sasuke-kun’s memories, and watches as the young Itachi pulls his brother over his lap.

“Big brother will always protect you, Sasuke,” she hears him say, and tries not to cry when she sees the unabashed admiration in the little Sasuke’s face and the tragedy that awaits him.

The scene switches, and she sees a slightly older Sasuke running towards Itachi, who is dressed in full ANBU attire. There is another Uchiha member with disheveled hair leaning against the residence’s front door, presumably waiting for Itachi, and smiling at Sasuke.

This is what his family was like, she muses, before he had lost everything.

“Maybe next time, Sasuke,” she recognizes the words coming out of Itachi’s mouth, before the young Sasuke is tapped on the forehead in the same way she had been.

Her heart clenches.

“Sorry, Sasuke,” the other Uchiha says, “let me borrow your brother for a bit.”

Sakura is filled with a carefree feeling when she sees the young Sasuke’s expression, pouting like the child that he had been. Even Sasuke-kun can make faces like these, she thinks, and briefly remembers similar expressions he had made in their genin days.

He spares her the images of the massacre, she realizes, because they are suddenly on top of a building, surrounded by a vast forest, and she can see Sasuke, around the age he was three years ago, in a black attire. She sees Itachi, bloody, stalking towards him.

“Sorry, Sasuke,” she hears him say with his last breath, “but there won’t be a next time.”

She feels the sensation of Itachi’s fingers on her forehead, the force of the knowledge that he had left with Sasuke swirling in her head.

The scene switches again, and they are now in a cave, and Sasuke is dressed in the same attire he had been wearing during the war. There is a bright light coming from across the room, and she is surprised to see that it is Itachi, with edo tensei eyes.

He is dissipating, she notes, and her mood plummets, now overshadowed by a deep sadness that she has never felt until now.

“…you don’t ever have to forgive me. And no matter what you do from here on out, know this… I will love you always.”

She can feel the weight of Itachi’s forehead against hers, and the complete helplessness that is coursing through Sasuke. She feels as if she cannot breathe, the pain in her chest wound so tightly that she gasps achingly. She realizes that she is suffering for real, that this pain mirrors the one that Sasuke had felt even more profoundly, and that there are hot tears rolling down her face.

Sasuke quickly releases her from the genjutsu. She lets out a small cry as he wraps a strong arm around her shoulders.

He is silent as she cries, his fingers gripping her shoulder reassuringly. Her mind is blank, she cannot even begin to comprehend what has just happened, but she knows that she has never felt anything like it.

Sasuke had shared his memories and feelings of his brother with her, in a way that only members of the Uchiha clan could.

“The Uchiha clan valued love and friendship above all else,” Sasuke tells her, his voice steady and calm, “and feels everything too deeply. When that feeling consumes them, the sharingan awakens. That is the Uchiha clan’s curse of hatred.”

Sakura has nothing to say. The words echo in her head, and she cannot stop trembling. She leans into Sasuke in an attempt to calm herself, and feels him tighten his arm around her, the warmth of his breath on the top of her head.

She falls asleep in his embrace.

[horansqueen]

AM Conversations : chapter 28

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.3k. -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- if you want to be notified when this is updated, please message me or leave a comment!

- you can send me questions and theories and comments. tbh they all make me SO SO SO SOOOO HAPPY! and make me want to write more! you can also tell me if there are things you WANT to happen. you never know, i may add it :P

- thanks for being patient btw! i work a lot these days and will work even more in the next few weeks (until halloween) so i may not update as often as i’d like. :(

- note for this chapter: please forgive me

-please, message me, give me feedbacks, it would mean sooo much to me!

Chapter 28 : His chapter

NIALL

I was happy to have found my best friend back. It seemed like everything was back to normal, or almost. I split my time between Liv and Maya and I was trying to satisfy both, although Maya demanded more attention than I would have thought at the beginning. We had our occasional disputes, I couldn't lie, and most of them were about my best friend, but I was trying not to think about it and I never mentioned it to Olivia.

"Niall? Are you listening to me?"

"Mm?"

I looked up from my phone to look at my girlfriend. She looked pissed and glanced at the plate in front of me. Most of the time, she preferred to eat out and it sort of bothered me but if it saved us from an argument, I was in.

"You barely ate anything." she pointed out, raising her eyebrows.

I looked at her plate and then back up in her eyes.

"Your plate is pretty full too." I argued, moving my chin a bit as my eyes found my phone again.

I wanted to mention that she barely ate at all but I kept my mouth shut because I knew it was a touchy subject for her. Still, I worried about her and I was surprised she insisted on going out to eat since she barely did in the end. Perhaps it was only to make people believe she ate and not get any question. I felt my phone vibrate and looked down at it, quickly typing an answer to the message I just got. The conversation about food seemed to be over but when I heard her voice again, my heart jumped slightly.

"What's so interesting on your phone, Niall? Can't we just eat together and talk?"

I sighed, maybe a bit too loud, and put my phone back in my pocket, feeling it vibrate again immediately but trying to ignore it.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

Her face changed and she looked down, making me believe that the conversation we were about to have was not a fun one. I breathed in deeply but subtly, trying to remain calm no matter what she'd say but knowing it wouldn't be easy.

Maya was more and more jealous as time went by. It had been a few weeks since Harry and Olivia broke up and since then, she had become a bit possessive and got mad almost every time i'd hang out with my best friend. She'd text me a few times an hour, ask many questions about what we did and said. and one time, she even showed up at Liv's, pretending she was 'in the neighborhood'.  It was not easy and we had that talk a hundred times, but I was starting to think that things would never change.

"I've seen the picture." she let out, making me frown. I was about to ask her what pictures she was talking about but she continued. "Of you and her... kissing."

Once again she put emphasis on the 'her' which is something she always did when it came to Olivia. I couldn't remember the last time she actually pronounced her name.

"What are you..."

I didn't have time to finish, she moved her phone up and showed me a picture from the day before. It was all over google, or it seemed, and I could see a very bad picture from very far away of a supposed and obscure kiss between my best friend and I. The angle was shady and although it was probably not photoshopped, it also was clearly not what was happening for real. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, taking a bite of my cold of pastas.

"You know it's just the angle, right?" I asked with an obvious tone full of judgement.

She breathed in, her facial expression turning into a angry one as she brought her phone closer to her, leaving it on the table. She moved closer to me, leaning against the table a bit, and sighed again.

"I think it is exactly what I see."

With my fork still in hand, i leaned against the table too to talk in a low tone.

"Three or four years ago there was a picture of Harry and I kissing that appeared online with a bunch of different articles titled ridiculous shit like 'Harry Styles' New Squeeze Is His One Direction Bandmate Niall Horan' and I can assure you Harry and I never kissed even if you would doubt it with the picture." I explained roughly but in a whisper. "It's what these people do, it's their job to start bullshit about celebrities. I'm sure you had your fair share. So if I tell you this picture is not real and that I was not kissing Olivia, then you should trust me."

She blinked a few times and shook her head and although I knew I hadn't convinced her of anything, I also knew she didn't have any argument to keep this fight going. Or I thought so.

"So you're not having sex with her?"

I choked on my beer and cleared my throat before swallowing hard. All I could think about was the time I fingered my best friend and how I came all over myself from it. It was very weird to think about it while looking at my girlfriend but I finally sighed. I hadn't touched Liv in that way or cheated on Maya again ever since and even if I couldn't pretend I hadn't thought about it, I had been physically faithful to her. Well, except that one time.

"Why would you even ask that?" I wondered rudely, a bit louder this time. "How many times do I have to tell you that she's just my best friend?"

I felt my heart jump in my chest as if i had just expressed a lie and maybe I had. Can someone really be just a friend if you also have sexual thoughts about them?

"Then why don't you ever make love to me?"

Her tone was rude but her voice was low and it seemed even rougher this way. It felt like a slap in the face and I held my breath, staring at her as the anger showed on my face turned into annoyance and a bit of embarrassment. I could feel my cheeks burn, not because I was not banging regularly a girl like Maya or because she was talking about it in public but simply because of the reason why.

"You know... love is a big thing and.."

"Fine." she cut me. "Why don't we have sex, then? Better?"

I cleared my throat without answering her question and licked my lips before looking up in her eyes. I was not having sex with Maya because I was too horny for someone else. It had never happened to me before but it was the truth. Maya and I fought a lot and argued and whenever it would happen, I clearly was not in the mood to be lovey with her. Even on our good days though, I couldn't do it. I had tried and we had a few times, but most of the time i'd find an excuse. Sometimes, i'd even wait until she was asleep to join her in bed, which resulted in many nights spent on the couch since I would end up falling asleep in the living room instead. The last time I had tried to have sex with Maya, I thought about my best friend and it felt so wrong that I had to stop and pretended I had a migraine. Yes, a fucking migraine. I was pathetic. I had this gorgeous model in my bed and I couldn't think with my cock for just an hour in order to shag her.

"I've just been tired and busy." I let out as if it explained anything. "Are you really mad about that? Seriously?"

She didn't answer but pressed her lips together, staring at me as I shook my head.

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you." I pointed out, playing with my cold food by running my fork a bit too violently in my plate.

"If you're not getting it from me, you're getting it somewhere else. I know how men work, Niall."

I sent her a frown and then scoffed, shaking my head again. I couldn't believe we were having this discussion and it made me feel like shit. Did I really want to go through that all the time? Of course, I didn't imagine Maya and I to get married or anything and if I wanted to be honest with myself, I didn't even see myself dating her in the long run. Perhaps this whole relationship was not worth trying to save after all.

"Really now?" I asked, slightly pissed now. "You know how men work? Well then I hope you saw this coming."

I grabbed the cloth napkin I had placed on my lap and wiped my hands with it before throwing it in my plate a bit roughly and looking up in her eyes. She seemed surprised but I knew she knew exactly what I was doing. I leaned closer to her again and stared at her for a few seconds.

"I'm tired of this. We're done."

With an annoying noise, I pushed my chair back and got up, grabbing my coat and diving both my hands in my pockets as I walked away. I stopped when I met our waiter and gave him two bills of a hundred to make sure everything was covered and to apologize if we disturbed other clients. I just wanted to be far from here as soon as possible and I thanked him before leaving quickly.

I breathed in deeply when I stepped out, the cold winter air reaching my nose and making me feel suddenly lighter. Was it wrong of me to feel so relieved to be single again? Perhaps, but I couldn't help it. I waved for a cab and quickly got in but giving the driver my best friend's address instead of mine. I really needed to see her and I felt like I hadn't seen her in way too long.

                                                       ---

I stood in front of her apartment building, my hands still in my pockets as the cab disappeared behind me. I didn't know if it was a good idea and I knew I was here unannounced but even if it hadn't happened in a while, we used to do that all the time. I wasn't sure she was there as I rang the bell but I decided that if she was not, i'd get inside and wait for her anyway, no matter how long it would take for her to come back.

It took longer than expected for the door to unlock and I put my keys back in my pockets, opening the door and rushing upstairs. When I knocked, the door opened slightly and Liv's face appeared, making my smile grow bigger.

"Hey, sorry I didn't call." I apologized, licking my lips. "Can I come in?"

I was excited to see her, impatient to tell her we'd get to spend more time together and explain that I was single now.

"Uhm, yea, of course."

She took a step behind and I pushed on the door slightly and walked quickly inside.

"So guess wh-" I stopped myself suddenly, my voice stuck in my throat as my smile fell. "Harry?"

My bandmate was there, sitting on her couch with half a blanket on him while the other was moved. She was clearly sitting there before opening the door and I noticed how close they must have been from each other. There was a movie on pause in the background and I tried to make sense of the scene in front of me.

My eyes found her again and I frowned, taken aback by the fact that I had not seen this coming at all. Perhaps I was too busy fighting with Maya to realize Olivia and Harry were hanging out again and I hated it. I hated it more than I could explain.

"Wow, really?" I asked, getting pissed for the second time tonight. "Him? Here?"

She frowned and shook her head a bit before shrugging but I didn't let her talk.

"You didn't even think to tell me that you two were spending time together?" I added, not giving her time to talk. "You didn't think to mention that you wanted to try again with him or that you had feelings for him again? What am I to you? Are we even still best friends?"

"Niall, it's not what you-"

"No, wait." I cut her. "I come here to tell you I dumped Maya and I find you cuddling Harry?"  I shook my head and scoffed, slipping my hand in my hair and turning on my heels so my back was facing her.

"It's really not what you think, Niall."

Hearing Harry's voice pissed me off even more and I shut my eyes tight with a groan. I wanted to tell him to mind his own business but I was scared that this business was now his, too. I missed the days Olivia and I were both single and always together but it seemed like it wouldn't be happening again. At least, not soon. Fucking Harry. I knew I was mad at him for no reason but I couldn't help it.

"He's right." Liv agreed with him, twisting something in my stomach. "And we weren't cuddling."

I turned back to her swiftly, raising my eyebrows as my lips parted.

"Don't lie to me, I have two functioning eyes!"

"Oh my god Niall calm down!"

Her voice took me by surprise and I took a step back as Harry got up from the couch slowly and walked up to her, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. That display of affection made me want to puke.

"I'll leave you two, call me okay?"

She nodded and he smiled before turning to me and giving me a short head movement as a goodbye. His hand slipped from her arm and I watched it, holding my breath the whole time. We waited until the door closed behind him and I breathed in but we stayed silent, just staring at each other. She seemed to glow and I didn't want it to be because of him. She moved two locks of hair behind both her ears and I surprised myself wishing I was the one who pushed them out of her face with more delicateness than the way she had done it.

I thought she'd propose me a drink and that we'd talk sitting on her couch but she just brought her arms closer, crossing them over her chest and bringing her shoulders up.

"Harry and I are just friends, Niall, that's all."

I hated that answer and it reminded me that I gave the exact same one to everyone who asked about me and her. Why did I have such a hard time believing it when it came from her mouth? Perhaps it was because it was hard to believe when it came out of mine.

"I'm not getting back with him, Niall."

I sighed and shook my head, bringing my hands to my hair and pulling on it a bit too hard. I don't know why I was getting so mad but I couldn't help it. It was raising inside me like a volcano near boiling and I closed my eyes, pacing quickly in a small circle and letting out a few groans. I couldn't seem to ease the anger I was feeling and it was making me even angrier.

"You know what? I don't believe you!" I let out.

"Why?" she asked with a frown, taking a step closer. "I won't go back with him!"

"And why wouldn't you go back with him mm?" I asked a bit too loud, throwing my arms in the air in a ridiculous way. "He's perfect, he clearly still has feelings for you and you two didn't really have any reason to break up."

"Because... that's not how it works, Nee." she replied, shaking her head and avoiding my eyes.

I blinked a few times, staring at her, breathing in as my hands formed fists. I could feel my nails digging gently in my palms and the word escaped my mouth in a yell. "WHY?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU OKAY!?"

Silence. All I could hear was the pace of my heartbeats accelerating in my chest. My muscle loosened and I opened my hands as my shoulders fell.

"What?"

My voice was low, almost inaudible.

"I love you Niall. I'm in love with you." she added, swallowing hard. "I've always been. Since the day I found out what love was, I knew the love of my life was you. I didn't stop loving you, not even half a second. It's always been you, and no one else."

"That makes... no sense." I whispered, shaking my head and taking a step back despite myself.

"Except it makes all the sense in the world, Niall, don't you think?" I watched her tilt her head on the side and it hit me just how vulnerable she looked. "Don't you think we make sense?"

"As best friends, yea." I explained now completely calm. "As.. maybe a bit more than that, sure. We make sense as ambiguous best friends that people question, okay, I get that."

I stared at her, unsure if my heart had stopped or was going too fast for me to feel the beats. Weirdly, I wanted to take her in my arms and beg her to take her words back so everything could go back to normal. Why didn't I see this before? Or did I? Why didn't I want to see this before?

Her emotions changed, her face softening but also turning into a sad expression. I felt like shit, I felt out of place, I felt guilty... and all these feelings couldn't seem to make me find the right words.

"But Olivia, you and I? As a couple?" I shook my head, raising my eyebrows and bringing my shoulders up. "No, it doesn't make sense. It wouldn't work."

I was searching for her eyes but she was avoiding any contact and we remained motionless and in silence for a few minutes. It was awkward and I couldn't put a finger on the last time it was awkward between us.

"Do you love me, Niall?"

Her eyes finally met mine and my lips parted at her question. I pushed my hands deep in my pockets and shook my head slightly.

"You always ask me that question. My answer is still the same."

She took a step closer and my gaze followed her. The closer her body was getting, the harder my heart was beating. Why did this have to happen?

"I mean real love."

She didn't try to add anything else, we both knew what she meant and we both knew I was avoiding the question. She took an other step closer and I looked down in her eyes as her chin moved up. My eyes roamed in her face, trying to memorize every single detail : the way her tin lips were slightly parted, the way her green eyes had an halo of gold around the pupils, the way her button nose moved up delicately when she talked. I brought one of my hands to her cheek, slowly and gently, and ran my thumb on her skin. She looked on the verge to cry and I didn't want to admit that I felt tears coming, too. I was losing my best friend.

"I can't." I just said, taking a step back and feeling my hand slip from her face before letting my arm fall. "I'm sorry."

I sighed and closed my eyes for a few seconds, trying to stop my whole body from throbbing and finally just shook my head before turning around.

"Niall..."

I swallowed hard and breathed in without turning back to look at her.

"I'm sorry."

And then I did the worst thing I could have done. I left.

                                                    ----

My whole body was burning and throbbing and I stopped running as soon as I was out of her building, holding myself on my knees with my hands, my eyes closed. It felt horrible, like I was trapped in a closed elevator in-between two levels... like I was stuck in a secluded and locked place without being able to get out. I had a hard time breathing and I tried to concentrate on inhaling and exhaling to get back to normal.

It took a while but when my crisis was over, I moved up again and searched for my phone in my pockets. I realized my hands were shaking when I tried typing a message but I finally hit 'send'. It took me longer than I thought but I eventually found a cab and ended up in bar, sitting on a stool and drinking a beer. I was twisting it in my hands without tasting it, probably warming the liquid with the palm of my hand pressed on the bottle. I felt someone sit next to me but it's only when I heard his voice that I looked up.

"Six tequila shots." Louis ordered, looking at the barman before turning to look at me and then back at the man behind the counter. "No wait, make it eight, please and thank you."

"Oh I'm not getting drunk." I pointed out with a frown.

"Fuck yes you are." Louis chuckled. "I'm seeing your face and you clearly need it. What happened? You broke up with Maya?"

I scoffed and looked back at my beer, taking of sip of it and grimacing slightly.

"That's not why I asked you to meet here, I just needed company."

I was not sure if it was a lie or if it was only half a lie but it didn't matter. Louis knew me too well and when he laughed, I knew he didn't believe anything I said. The barman came back and aligned the eight shots in front of us as Louis handed him a bill and my eyes roamed on the shots slowly.

"Let's drink half of them then you can tell me what the fuck is wrong Neil, okay?"

I rolled my eyes at the nickname and grabbed one, quickly downing it and turning the shots around, putting it back on the counter with a light thud before grabbing the other one and doing the same. My throat was burning because of the alcohol and so were my eyes but there was clearly no link with the shots. I rubbed both my eyes and sighed again but when I turned to Louis, he was waiting.

"Olivia told me she loved me."

Louis blinked a few times and shook his head.

"Okay... and?"

I opened my eyes in surprise. I had expected a different reaction : a loud laughter, a shocked expression, or even a grimace... but indifference? No, I hadn't seen that coming at all.

"And?" I repeated, raising my eyebrows. "She loves me, Louis. She LOVES me."

This time, Louis laughed and shook his head, pushing an other shot on the counter to get it closer to me.

"Because you're gonna tell me you didn't know before she told you?"

He grabbed a shot and brought it to his lips. I watched him as he swallowed the third and the fourth, grimacing and finally turning to look at me. I was not really sure why it was Louis I had called. Probably because he was the first contact I found, or maybe because I knew he was going to tell me things the way he sees them. He was going to tell me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear.

"N-No..."

"Then you're a fooking idiot, Niall."

"Thanks Tommo, that really helps." I let out with sarcasm, raising my nose and drinking my last shots before grabbing my beer again.

"So, you two are dating now?" he asked, taking the cigarette from behind his ear to place it between his lips.

My face twisted in an other grimace and my nose raised up at his words as he took his lighter out of his pockets. I watched as he lighted it up and inhaled a long puff, letting the smoke come out from his nose. I was not even sure it was allowed to smoke in this bar.

"No, of course we're not dating. I don't.. We're not..." It seemed like I couldn't finish my sentence and I sighed a bit too loud.

"Let's face it Niall. The only thing that would change if you two started dating would be holding hands and having sex. It doesn't sound too terrible does it?"

He tapped on his cigarette and the ash fell on his napkin before he licked his lips. I tried to think about having sex with Liv every day and holding her hand... I tried to think about cuddling her at night, dancing with her in the living room, having conversations in the AM all the time. Louis was right, most of those were things we already did.

"But dating means love, it means a steady relationship, it means being faithful and owing your time and heart to someone. it implies a lot more than I can give her. I can't give her that."

"Can't or won't?"

"I hate you, Tommo." I groaned, grabbing my beer again and drinking what was left of it.

"You're scared, that is pretty obvious." Louis said, his lips moving a bit as he shrugged. "But it's time you man up and admit how you feel. Or i'm telling you, mate. You're gonna lose her. And this time, it may be forever."

[maple-keenes]

they wanted heaven from me, i gave ‘em hell

summary: heaven pays no attention to the actions of those in hell. roman isn't sure whether he's doing the right thing anymore, but he's certain of one thing - that his father isn't fit to be king. and he'll do whatever it takes to make sure that he won't be anymore.

pairing: logicality and prinxiety

tw: murder, death, discussion of murder and death, remus, deceit, morally grey deceit, weapons, criminalization of gay people, homophobia, cursing

wc: 5837

a/n: this took me THREE MONTHS to write and i am ashamed of how bad it turned out 

read it on ao3

general:

@analogical-chaos @theflatpancake @ilovemygaydad @alltimevirgilant @virgiliananxiety @romanticsanders @theincediblesulk @wroammin @creativity-killed-thekitten @bitchyybabyy400 @wooflesthatwoof @lyditist @heck-im-lost @max-is-tired @demurphart @thelowlysatsuma @land-of-dragons-and-frogs @theeternalspace @magicallygrimmwiccan @weirdsthenewnormal @romansleftshoulderpad

--

The king looked down coldly upon his son, who, despite being ordered to his death, was oddly cheery.

“Roman Delacour, you are nothing but an embarrassment and a traitor to this family. You and that… boy… have brought shame upon our kingdom and you tried to murder me, you wretched man.” The king turned up his nose, refusing to look at his son.

Roman smiled crookedly, glancing up at his father. “Daddy, please. Forget about the whole sodomite thing for five minutes, won’t you?” He laughed. “Personally, I find it ridiculous. I think the fact that I’m being executed should fall entirely on the arranged coup, not the boyfriend.”

“ENOUGH!” his father roared, gesturing for the executioner to slap his son. “You are shameful, boy.”

“I’m aware.”

The king wrinkled his nose. “I do not want to have this disgusting creature in my sight any longer! Take him to the dungeons."

Roman caught the eye of a regal man standing to his father’s left and winked. The executioner stood up, grabbing Roman by the arm and wrenching him away until they were out of sight, down in the hallway to the dungeons.

“You know, you didn’t have to actually slap me,” Roman remarked conversationally.

“It was part of the facade,” the executioner grumbled. “Now shut up or we’re gonna get caught.”

Roman grinned, walking side by side next to the executioner as they made their way to the dungeons. As they finally were out of anyone’s sight for certain, he shook off the loosely tied ropes binding his hands and pulled of the ‘executioner’s’ mask, giving his boyfriend a wry smile. “You’re clever, Virgil. I didn’t think you could pull off the executioner act.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You have no faith in me, my dearest prince.”

Roman kissed him deeply, wrapping himself around Virgil. “Oh, I’d have you on the dungeon floor if I could, Virge. Many thanks for rescuing me from a terrible fate.”

"Well, I couldn't just leave you to die, my darling."

about five months prior

"A toast!" the king cried, "to my dear son, Prince Roman. May your victories be plenty."

Roman beamed as his father and the rest of the court applauded. He stood up, raising his glass to the rest of the court, the ladies giggling and swooning as he smiled at each of them in turn. “Father, you honor me. I hope to bring great glory to this kingdom!” The crowd let out a raucous cheer, clapping and hollering for their beloved prince.

Oh, their beloved prince, the savior of the kingdom. An amazing title to have bestowed upon oneself, but Roman despised it. Oh, he despised it. He was trapped, caged in a life he didn’t want. His dad was a dictator, his mother was dead, and he was… he was Prince Roman. He was the symbol of hope for this twisted kingdom.

Late one summer evening, Roman saddled up his horse and rode out into the woods, the lantern swinging in front of him as he cantered through the forest. It was practically dark when he decided he should really start to head back, though his plans were interrupted by strong hands grabbing him around the waist and pulling him off his horse. Roman’s cries were muffled by a gag slyly placed around his mouth as the edges of his vision dulled and then everything…

Stayed vaguely in focus, because he wasn’t going to black out. Gotcha.

As he was dragged, his vision slid in and out of focus. Roman supposed that was on purpose, though he wouldn’t have been able to tell you where he was anyways. When they reached the hole that this hooligan was dragging him to, the prince was promptly tied to a chair and then, only then, did Roman realize that the hooligan currently in the process of binding is legs to the chair was unreasonably attractive. Oh, he had skin like a perfectly roasted coffee bean, and gorgeously tousled brown hair all pulled together with grey-blue eyes. Roman could fall right then and there.

Of course, he wouldn’t. Because he was a man, and therefore he would marry a woman, not a beautiful kidnapper. But oh god, those eyes…

What was the harm in flirting a little? Especially with a man who was certainly going to be executed once his father found him. The kingdom would never stand for its beloved prince being missing, and Roman would be grateful, even though his father could only truly be described, as the author would say, as a word that begins with a and ends with sshole. And tyrant. Murderer. Etcetera.

“I don’t suppose you’re only on your knees for my viewing pleasure?” Roman asked lazily, retaining that ridiculous confidence he’d become known for.

His captor looked up. “Oh honey, I only get down on my knees for attractive princes.”

Roman was quite put out by that. Never, in his life, had he been insulted and rejected so thoroughly in the same sentence. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why I’m bound hand and foot.”

“Nah,” his kidnapper replied, flashing him a cheeky smile. “I’m going to go fetch my friends. And then we’ll see about your fate.” He bit his lip, still laughing. “Personally, I was all for execution. My friends are less cold-hearted.”

“I don’t think I could ever see someone as attractive or humorous as you are as cold-hearted,” Roman remarked, grinning at his mysterious captor.

The man winked. “You’d be surprised.” With that, he turned and walked into a room off to the side, returning a minute later with his friends, Roman assumed.

One was taller than the other by quite a bit, sporting a royal blue bandana tied fashionably around his neck. Roman could have sworn he’d seen that face before, the pale skin contrasted against dark brown hair and dark freckles. The picture of regality in posture and poise, but a boyish face nonetheless.

The other was shorter, bouncy, and smiling. This was not a situation where one should be smiling, so he had to admit he was impressed. He has long curls… come to think of it, Roman was fairly certain he had also seen this young man before. God, he really needed to start paying attention to the servants’ names.

“So, my dearest prince, these are my friends. They will decide your fate.”

Tall glanced at him, annoyance and disdain evident. “You have far too much of that ridiculous flair for the dramatic in you.”

“Aww, I think it’s sweet,” Short cooed. “Hi, Prince Roman. I’m Patton, that’s Logan,” he pointed to Tall, “and your captor is Virgil. He’s kind of a... well, he’s a nice jerk, but we love him no matter what.”`

Roman gasped, attempting to point at Logan. "You! I know you! You work for my father!"

Logan nodded. "I am an advisor to the throne. Surely we've met before, prince."

"Once or twice. You are a spy, then?" he questioned.

"Certainly. The former duke - or king, now, I must call him, may trust me, but I know the man is a tyrant." Logan sighed. "I didn't mean to live a double life. I have been Remus' advisor since he was 25 years of age and I 18."

"So… you're old, is what you're saying."

He let out a short, barking laugh. "What I'm saying is that I know your father very well. And his brother, when he was still alive."

Roman opened his mouth in protest, ready to call the older man out on his faulty memory, (his father never had a brother) when Virgil interrupted with a loud "Anyways. Life stories later, prince murdering now. Any last words, Roman?"

"Now hold on a minute -"

Patton placed a calming hand on Virgil's arm. "Virgil. He is not our enemy. Nor are we going to murder him for the actions of his father. The servants I meet are fond of Roman. He is kind to them when his father is not. And the court nobles… well, they know that he is different, if nothing else."

Realization dawned on him. "Patton… do I know you too?"

Patton gave him a small smile. "From a long time ago. It makes sense you would not recognize me, but nonetheless, I still think you are kind and I would much prefer you as an ally and friend than dead on our floor."

(It is months later that Roman finds out the truth about Patton. When the secret is revealed, Roman will think back to this moment and wonder how he missed it, because it was all in the eyes and he just wasn't looking hard enough.)

"So I'm outvoted?" Virgil asks, scoffing. "Fine. But he could still run off and go tell his father and we'd all be dead. We don't know him."

"I do," Logan and Patton chorused.

He shoots them a glare. "Well, I don't." Virgil walked over to Roman and poked him in the chest rather harshly. "How do we know you won't rat us out to Daddy?"

A million reasons ran through Roman's mind.

Because he's a horrible tyrant.

Because he starved thousands.

Because he treats his council and family like we are less than dirt in private, and as if we are gods in public.

Because he murdered my mother and he'll kill me too.

"Because he doesn't deserve the throne he sits on. No country deserves a land ruled by someone with no one's interests at heart but their own." Roman sighed. "And… because I hate him more than you do."

Virgil leaned back, seemingly satisfied with Roman's answer. "Well. I guess that's okay." He reached out his hand to Roman as a gesture of "I guess it's okay if I don't murder you today".

Roman took it. "Good to be a part of the team," he responded. "What do we do now?"

Virgil raised his eyebrows as a smile overtook his face. "Now you learn how to fight."

--

It was two days later when Roman returned to the place he'd met the other three, mumbling something or other about Virgil being a bitch and also unfairly attractive for such a bitch.

Virgil was already standing outside, twirling a dagger between his fingers and smirking at Roman. There was a straw doll set up a few yards away from the hole marking the entrance to the secret lair or whatever.

"Guess who finally showed up." Virgil sheathed his dagger. "Thought we agreed on 4?"

"Had to convince my guard not to follow me out," Roman said, dismounting from his horse (who had, luckily, wandered back to the castle after Roman was kidnapped).

He nodded, and Roman took that to mean that this was an acceptable excuse. "What'd you tell them?"

"That I had a hot date with a cute boy," he answered along with a wink.

Virgil turned bright red. "I - I can't - " he stuttered, before quickly regaining his confidence. "I feel sorry for the man. His company is quite unattractive."

Roman scowled. "I'm gorgeous, thank you. And I told them that I would like to hunt and i would prefer to do so alone. They were much more keen to believe that excuse than a woodland tryst with another man."

"Oh, I wonder why?" he muttered sarcastically, tossing Roman a plain dagger. "First lesson, close combat."

He held the dagger in his palm, studying it. "It's… well, frankly, Virge, this dagger is boring. And I already know how to fight!"

Virgil shot him an exasperated glare. "Firstly, defending your life or someone else's is not supposed to be a glamorous affair, Roman. Secondly," he continued, ticking them off on his fingers, "you know how to fight like a royal, which means you know how to fight sword fighting instructors and that's about it. And finally, don't call me Virge."

"Jesus, okay." Roman rolled his eyes. "Okay, master sword fighter, teach me your ways."

"No more snark outta you." Virgil grabbed Roman's hand amd balled it into a fist. "Is this the right way to make a fist?"

"Touchy, aren't we?"

"Stop talking and answer my question."

Roman sighed. "No, it isn't. I'll break my thumb if it's inside the fist."

"Correct," Virgil said, smiling. "You're not as useless as I thought."

"Thanks," he replied, annoyed, though he grinned back at Virgil.

Maybe this would be fun after all.

A month passed of combat training with Virgil, potion-making and medicine with Patton, keeping track of the king's movements with Logan, and planning. What for, he didn't know. But they sure as hell did a lot of it.

“So, Logan.”

"Roman."

Roman leaned back in his chair. “When we first met… you said that my father had a brother. And... I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I just - I've never even heard of an uncle."

Logan's face softened, just a little bit. "I suppose your father wouldn't have wanted you to know about him, no."

He went quiet for a bit, mindlessly flicking through their notes. "What was his name?" he asked, avoiding eye contact.

Logan glanced at him, then looked back down at his papers. “It was Damien.”

“Damien,” Roman repeated. “He was exiled when I was little. I never knew he was my uncle.”

“He was better than your father, but that’s sort of a low bar.” Logan chuckled a bit at his own joke. “Damien was… he wanted people to respect and admire him, and he wasn’t always great at telling the truth, but he was a decent man. You deserved to know him.”

Roman gasped in mock astonishment. “Logan… is this your way of saying that you liked someone?”

Logan glared at him. “I like some people plenty. Currently, you’re excluded from that minority.”

“Well, thanks for telling me about my uncle.” He shifted in his seat a bit, shutting the book in front of him. “It was nice of you. Now, on to more important topics, since you mention that you do, in fact, like people -”

“I would prefer to end this conversation here.”

“And I wanna talk about your love life, because we’re friends now and I want to. So, guess we don’t always get what we want.” Roman shrugged. “I remember one story about you at court that you weren’t married yet, and one of the ladies in Princess Madelyn’s kingdom - you know, the one about a thousand miles east from ours - was quite interested to learn this.” He winked, not subtley, as Logan rolled his eyes.

“Roman, I do not want to talk about this. Also, this is quite the change of topic. How long have you been waiting to ask me?” he said, decidedly looking anywhere except Roman.

Roman grinned. “Since I met you. Come on, I’m a prince. I never get to gossip with my friends!”

Logan shut his book and sighed. “Yet instead of talking to the other 20 year old, you come to the 35 year old advisor?”

“Well, I’m curious, Logan. To the rest of the court, it’s a big deal you’ve never been married because it's so uncommon -"

"Roman!" Logan exclaimed sharply. "As far as legality goes, I am not married, no. Is that good enough for you?"

He gasped. "Does that mean you're married illegally? Is it a princess from another kingdom? Or is it someone higher ranking than you and the court doesn’t approve of the marriage?” Roman continued to speculate as Logan slowly tried to open up his book and continue to read. It was a few minutes later that Roman noticed Logan had completely tuned him out and he began to pester Logan into telling him why he wasn’t married legally.

Logan, sensing that this conversation wasn’t going to end until he told him the truth, sighed and set his book down, saying, “It’s not a legal marriage because I’m married to a man, Roman. And as forward-thinking as the king claims to be, that marriage is not legally recognized in this kingdom. If you’re going to tell your father, remember that we’re all very good with a knife.”

“Oh my god, that’s so obvious!” Roman shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t guess that. You know, there was this prince from Valdovia who visited when I was like 17 and we ended up making out instead of going to the dinner -”

“It’s great that I don’t have to stab you, but for the love of all things, please stop talking.”

“Who’s your husband? Would I know him?”

He blushed. “Virgil! Come collect Roman, please!”

Logan refused to take any meetings with Roman for a few days after that.

Since it had been a couple months since Roman had joined their motley crew, Virgil and him had developed a rhythm to their day-to-day fighting. Most of the time, Virgil won, but Roman was starting to catch up. This particular time, it had been a couple days since Roman’s conversation with Logan, and he was just excited to see Virgil.

Neither man would ever admit (Virgil especially, since he maintained a steady cover of constant annoyance with Roman) that they looked forward to these daily lessons.

And they would never, ever admit that they looked forward to seeing each other.

They started off like this -

Strike.

Parr.

"So, did you know that Logan is married?" Roman asked.

Kick.

Block.

"Yeah? Him and Patton have been married for like, five years."

This caused a sufficient break in Roman's concentration, and Virgil was able to land a punch on his shoulder.

"You're kidding," he responded, regaining his balance and aiming a kick to Virgil' side.

"I'm not." He rolled his eyes, easily blocking the kick. "No more talking now."

Dodge.

Punch.

Roman got distracted enough watching Virgil fight that when Virgil kicked him next, he lost his balance and fell down, though not before he tried to grab onto his opponent’s arm to pull himself back up, which ultimately resulted in Virgil falling on top of Roman.

Virgil blushed, hard. “S-sorry -”

“I usually prefer my men under me, but this is nice…” Roman said, grinning.

“Don’t say things like that,” he mumbled.

Roman raised his head up and gave Virgil a quick kiss on the cheek. “There. End of conversation. We can get back to -”

The rest of his sentence was cut off by Virgil kissing him full on on the mouth. Roman grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, wrapping his leg around Virgil’s and that is when Patton walked out.

“Oh!” he exclaimed softly. “Er, boys -”

Virgil rolled off of Roman. “Sorry! We were just… um…”

Patton raised an eyebrow. “Making out on the forest floor?”

“Little bit, yeah.” Roman flushed. “We were fighting and things got a little bit out of hand.”

“You two are so cute!” he said, giggling. “Aw, I was rooting for you guys. I’m gonna go back inside now but just know that I totally approve and -”

“Patton!” Logan called from inside the hole. “Get back here, I need your help!”

And that was the end of that.

--

Two more months passed of holding hands under the table and kissing each other at the end of fights, of Logan’s stiff congratulations and Patton’s overwhelming acceptance, of training and planning and planning and training, when Logan gathered them all in the main room of the hole and announced formally that the time had come to murder Roman’s father.

“Really, huh? Five months of all this planning and it’s finally time to kill him?” Roman asked, trying to hide the panic slowly creeping into his voice.

Patton laid a comforting hand on his arm. “Roman, you know we’d never make you -”

“No,” he interrupted, voice hardening. “I - I apologize. It feels weird that thing we have been planning for some long has finally come to pass, and I guess it’s just a bit overwhelming for me.” Roman took a deep breath, collecting himself. “What’re we going to do?”

Virgil smirked, standing up. “I’m glad you asked, darling. It requires you to get arrested.”

“Arrested?”

Logan nodded. “We need you to try to kill him and get caught.”

“...why?” he asked.

“If someone were to kill the king, wouldn’t the first in line be the first to suspect? You can’t be there when he dies for real,” Patton explained. “And I can’t either, so when -”

Roman cut him off. “Why can’t you? They don’t know you.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You still don’t know?”

“Save it for later, Patton. Now, I would also be highly suspect, but no one knows who Virgil is. Virgil is our lynchpin. Now, for the rest of it…”

Roman listened intently to his part of the plan (which involved getting caught, escaping, fighting some guards loyal to his father probably, and then being king. Simple, really, if you thought about it) but he was still hung up on Patton’s ‘you still don’t know?’.

Of course, Roman didn’t know a great many things. Roman didn’t know that he’s actually the fictional creativity of a 30 year old man from the year 2019 being written about by a teenager with nothing better to do. He didn’t know about Cup O’Noodles. He didn’t really know what exactly his relationship with Virgil was. Despite all this, the most important thing that Roman does not know is the identity of Patton, who is sitting to his left.

After the meeting, Roman cornered Patton and insisted they talk.

“I - you seemed confused when I asked why you would be suspicious. Why should I know you? Is this some great oversight on my part?”

“Well, a little bit, yes,” Patton said, leaning back against the wall. “You said you never met your uncle. I know for a fact that’s not true.”

Roman folded his arms across his chest. “Fine, so I met him once when I was three. Why do you - oh.”

He smiled a little bit. “Do you remember me now?”

“You - you’re my cousin! You’re Damien’s daughter!” Roman flinched. “Er, I’m sorry. You’re Damien’s son. That’s why - that’s why I knew you - I knew I had met you before! You were my favorite cousin!”

Patton was practically beaming now. “I really have missed you, you know. It was kind of weird, not telling you who I was. But I thought it was for the best…”

“So you are my cousin. Damien’s son,” Roman said, inclining his head towards Patton, who nodded briefly. “But… when I met you… you were a girl.”

“That’s all correct. My dad was never really one to hold me to gender conformity.”

“But my father - he doesn’t like your dad. And… Damien was supposed to be king but he convinced the court to banish him so he could be king, which happened when I was around three so you left with him when you were what, 15? Did I miss anything?”

Patton shook his head.

“And nobody told me this.”

“Apparently not,” he replied.

“I… I’m really sorry, Patton. I feel like I should’ve recognized you earlier,” Roman apologized.

Patton stepped forward and hugged Roman tightly. “Hey, none of that. You know me now. And you’re gonna be king, right? So my father and I will be allowed back into the kingdom.”

Roman smiled a bit and hugged him back. “I promise.”

A little while later, Roman was preparing to mount his horse and head back to the castle as Virgil approached him. Roman set his saddlebag down and turned to him, tilting his head in confusion. “Is something wrong?”

“I - no, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to ask you - before we go through with all of this…” Virgil trailed off, looking sheepish.

He placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “If this is about the fact that you’re going to have to kill my brother, then I promise I find that a much more attractive quality than you think.”

“It’s not, but duly noted,” he said, laughing a little. “Um, I wanted to ask if you would maybe want to be my boyfriend? I know our relationship is a little weird, and we might die in a couple days, but I -” he coughed, as if it was hard for him to get the words out, “I really like you. You’re the first person I’ve felt this close to ever.”

Roman smiled. “Did you just say something emotional? With no sarcasm at all? Who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?”

Virgil perked up, looking at Roman. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes, my love,” he responded, giving Virgil a chaste kiss. “Now, I have to get home before dinner, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Alright?”

“Alright.”

--

Dinner was uneventful. King Remus hadn’t deigned to join them, so Roman struck up a conversation with Logan, who had thankfully attended, about foreign policy or something.

It was when Roman was headed to bed that things got interesting, so to speak.

As he was putting his crown on its cushion, there came a knock at the door. “Come in,” Roman called, stepping back to be able to look at himself in the mirror.

“Roman, what are you doing?”

Roman whirled around to face Remus. “Father! I - I was just putting my crown away. It’s getting late, and I wanted to be rested for my hunt tomorrow.”

The king nodded. “I noticed you’ve been hunting a lot lately. Is there a particular animal you’ve found hard to catch?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“If you must know, Remus, there is a deer who is being quite stubborn,” Roman lied. “I had a query for you…”

“Yes?”

He took a deep breath. “There was a man with a daughter that visited when I was very little. Who was that?”

Remus blanched. “I - I cannot tell you.”

“Do you not recall?” Roman pressed.

“It’s not important, Roman,” he snapped. “Come on, get to bed. I will see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow passed in planning, planning, and more planning. Roman was set to fake the attempt on his father’s life tonight, and Virgil to rescue him by posing as the executioner. Logan had access to the dungeons, so he would meet them down there with Patton after the king had died for real, and they would escape from there.

So when nighttime fell, Roman tucked a knife into his clothes and went to the king’s room. However, when he approached, he heard voices from inside… one his father’s, and one that he remembered from a long time ago.

“I refuse to let you come back. There’s no fun in being king if your dumb old brother is here too.”

Roman stifled a gasp with his free hand. Damien.

“I’m not the dumb brother! You’re the one running this kingdom into the ground!”

His father harrumphed. “I’m leaving, and you best not be here when I get back.”

Roman reached for his knife as the door swung open and he was face to face with his father.

“Roman?” Remus’s eyes flicked down to the knife clutched in his son’s hand. “Well, I figured you were plotting something. Shame it’s gone so badly for you,” he said, feigning pity.

“Father, I -”

Damien walked over to the door, leaning against the frame. “You know, Remus, I always liked your son better than you. I can’t blame him much.”

“Brother, get out of here. Guards, take my son to the dungeons.”

The exiled king’s eyes glittered. “Oh, I will. Roman, do say hello to Patton for me. He hasn’t stopped by in a while. And congratulations on finally getting together with your boyfriend, Patton was quite excited about it the last time we talked.”

Remus turned to Roman, his curiosity overwhelming his fury. “Your boyfriend?”

Roman held his chin high. “Yes, my boyfriend.”

“Well, I guess you’re to be tried for two things tomorrow. Guards!”

At noon the next day, a guard Roman didn’t recognize dragged Roman out into the Great Room, and he was forced to kneel in front of his father and the rest of the court.

“Behold!” Remus cried, “My horrid son!”

You know what happens next.

Roman didn’t seem to mind one bit that he was about to be executed. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

“Roman Delacour, you are nothing but an embarrassment and a traitor to this family. You and that… boy… have brought shame upon our kingdom and you tried to murder me, you wretched boy.” His father turned up his nose, refusing to look at his son.

Roman smiled crookedly, glancing up at his father. “Daddy, please. Forget about the whole sodomite thing for five minutes, won’t you?” He laughed. “Personally, I find it ridiculous. I think the fact that I’m being executed should fall entirely on the arranged coup, not the boyfriend.”

“ENOUGH!” Remus roared, gesturing for the executioner to slap his son. “You are shameful, boy.” The flicker in Roman’s father’s eyes suggested that while Remus appeared furious, he was actually quite enjoying this.

“I’m aware.”

The king wrinkled his nose. “I do not want to have this disgusting creature in my sight any longer! Take him to the dungeons."

Roman caught the eye of a regal man standing to his father’s left and winked. Damien raised an eyebrow in response. The executioner stood up, grabbing Roman by the arm and wrenching him away until they were out of sight, down in the hallway to the dungeons.

“You know, you didn’t have to actually slap me,” Roman remarked conversationally.

“It was part of the facade,” Virgil grumbled. “Now shut up or we’re gonna get caught.”

Roman grinned, walking side by side next to the executioner as they made their way to the dungeons. As they finally were out of anyone’s sight for certain, he shook off the loosely tied ropes binding his hands and pulled of the ‘executioner’s’ mask, giving his boyfriend a wry smile. “You’re clever, Virgil. I didn’t think you could pull off the executioner act.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You have no faith in me, my dearest prince.”

Roman kissed him deeply, wrapping himself around Virgil. “Oh, I’d have you on the dungeon floor if I could, Virge. Many thanks for rescuing me from a terrible fate.”

"Well, I couldn't just leave you to die, my darling."

Roman giggled. “Okay, handcuffs.”

“Kinky,” he mumbled as he locked Roman into the cuffs, pocketed the key, and put him in the cell. “Now, I’ll be back in about 12 hours and we’ll kick some guard ass.”

“Bye bye.”

Roman wasn’t entirely certain of how long 12 hours was, but one thing he was now sure of was that it was a lot longer than he had previously thought.

By the time the sun rose the next day, Roman was starting to wonder what had happened to Virgil. He hoped that he wasn’t caught or worse, dead, but he couldn’t be sure -

His thoughts were interrupted by Virgil rushing in as if on cue and dragging Roman out of the cell, unlocking his cuffs on the way. “You run to the fight! I have to get out of here before they catch me.” Virgil pulled him in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you when you’re king, Roman.”

Roman followed Virgil’s instructions and ran towards where he could hear the yelling, keeping his head down as he barrelled through the corridors. When he reached the front lawn of the castle, he saw a million flashes of silver as supporters of his father fought those who opposed him. He saw Patton battling a couple of guards and Logan punching another nobleman in the face, and Roman bit his lip and flew into action.

Strike.

Parr.

Keep your thumb inside your fist, Virgil’s voice reminded him.

Kick.

Block.

You’ve got this.

Dodge.

Punch.

Find your rhythm.

He was getting tired now, and the fight seemed like it was never going to end. As a last ditch resort, Roman cried, “Am I not the king?”, attempting to get everyone’s attention. A couple of people nearby turned their heads, so he continued to talk. “You think you know my father but you don’t! He was a madman!”

“He knew what was best for us!”

“He wanted what was best for him!” Roman snapped. “Remus starved hundreds so he could torture more! He murdered the queen! He is not your king, my people.” He took a deep breath and yelled, “I am your king! And I command you to stop this right now!”

The field fell silent, and Roman made his way through the battlefield. Some of the court he had known best were staring at him with hatred in their eyes he had never seen before. Still, he held his head high and kept walking.

“You know my father as the man who brought you peace after Damien was exiled! You know him as our fearless leader!” Roman yelled, walking through the throngs of people. “But he never knew you. Remus never cared about you!”

“And you do?”

Roman started, a bit taken aback. “I -”

Did he?

“Of course I do,” he said, softer. “I don’t want people to fear me. I want you to respect me. I’m young. I have more time to learn. I won’t be perfect, but I will be better than a man who only wanted the throne to take it from his brother.”

There was a soft murmuring among the people in the crowd, and then a voice called out, “All hail King Roman!”

“King Roman!”

Roman smiled to himself. We did it, guys.

epilogue

“A toast,” the king said, “to the birth of the heir to the throne!”

The rest of the court cheered, the king’s most favored advisor the loudest of them all.

Roman smiled and set down his drink. The child him and his husband had decided to adopt had just been born, and so called for a celebration.

It had been about ten years since the death of his father, and though some people were reluctant to accept Roman at first, he had quickly become favored by the public. (Especially after the legalization of gay marriage and increase in civil rights.)

He walked around, mingling with a few of the guests until he reached his cousin and Patton hugged him as tightly as possible, nearly knocking the breath out of him.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you!” he cried, and Roman laughed.

“Thanks, Pat. I’m sure you will absolutely be his favorite uncle.” He smiled. “I promise Virgil is around here somewhere…”

“Right here, darling,” the man in question said, putting an arm around Roman’s waist. “Hey, Pat. Hey, Logan.”

Logan nodded. “Prince Virgil.”

Virgil stuck out his tongue at him, and Roman laughed. “Love, he’s just being formal.”

And so Dukes Patton and Logan, Prince Virgil, and King Roman, talked together and laughed together, and not a single one thought about what had happened ten years ago.

After all, those in heaven pay no mind to those in hell.

[submissivekpop]

attention whore; im changkyun

Requested: yes Words: 2100+ Warnings: smut, sub!changkyun, dom!reader, brat taming, overstimulation, daddy kink (with a twist), pet play,  A/N: I stand by what I’ve said several times, I suck at endings >_<

Sitting right in front of you, his eyes fixated on yours, Changkyun makes a big show out of readjusting his pants, his hand lingering onto his crotch way more than it usually does. The defiant look on his face tells you the reason behind that, and you can't help but sigh.

So typical of him to behave like that, willing to do anything so that you'd just pay attention to him. Not that you've been neglecting him, of course, he just feels like you have, since your attention wasn't on him the entire time during dinner – to be fair, it wasn't your fault if he decided to invite his friends over, and you chatting with other people was only the logical consequence of his decision.

Slightly raising your brow, you stare back at him, now unzipping his pants, trying to understand how far he's willing to go.

«What do you think you're doing?» you ask, your voice startling him despite him knowing you're right in front of him.

«They're tight» he mutters, before standing up and taking them off, tossing them on the floor before you can say anything else.

«Is that your excuse, kitty?»

He blushes at the sudden pet name, silently nodding – no matter what, he has no intention of letting you see the effect your words have on him, not if he can avoid it.

«They are.»

Humming in response, your gaze moves to your phone once again, focusing on the online paper you were reading before Changkyun caught your attention. When you do, he snorts, bothered by the fact that, once again, he doesn't have your undivided attention – not that he needs it, he just wants it.

You don't need to look at him to know that he's shifting on the couch – uncomfortably, you'd say – and, when you give him a quick glance, you can see him fiddling with the band of his boxers, clearly wondering whether to take them off as well as he moves around, trying to find a position that's comfortable enough – why he's doing it, though, you don't know. Then, just when you think he's finally finished, he starts shifting once again, before deciding that no, he doesn't need to wear his boxers anymore – after all, it's just the two of you.

«I wouldn't do it, if I were you» you warn him, as his hands move over his crotch, his intentions clearly painted on his face – and, you notice, his member already fully erected.

«Oh, so now you're interested» he says, a mocking tone that makes you understand his bratty side is slowly emerging. «Should I have done it at dinner too, huh? Maybe you would have paid attention to me as well then.»

Shaking your head, you sigh.

«I did pay attention to you, but we had guests over» you explain, knowing you'll need plenty of patience to convince him. «Guests you invited.»

«That doesn't mean t-that – ah – you had to ignore me» he pouts, his sentence briefly interrupted by a breathy moan as he starts stroking his length.

«Stop it» you warn him again, your voice stern, but he ignores you nonetheless, increasing his pace instead. «And I didn't ignore you, you know that.»

«You don't get t-to tell me – oh, god – what to do.»

His hands are now working relentlessly all over his shaft, focusing on his sensitive tip as he openly disobeys you.

«Changkyun, stop.»

Once again, he doesn't listen to you. Instead, he throws his head back – theatrically, if you had to be honest, way more than he'd usually do it, and you know he's pretending just to get you to do something – before focusing once again on you.

«W-Why don't you go and say that to Kihyun, huh?»

Oh, so that is what it's really about. Kihyun.

Sure, you have talked with him more than usual, but there's absolutely no reason for your boyfriend to be jealous.

«I bet he'd l-love it» he goes on, not giving you enough time to answer. «Oh, Kihyun, you're so good!» he says, repeating the same words you used at dinner, mocking your tone.

«Are you... jealous, kitty?»

He doesn't answer, but the way he blushes tells you you're right.

«You know why I praised him?» you ask, rhetorically – of course he does, but you're going to explain it once again. «It's because, once your friends came over, he decided to cook for everyone, and didn't allow anyone to help him. Praising him was the least I could do.»

«S-Still, you ignored me.»

Getting up, you sit next to him on the couch. His hands don't stop, not even when you're this close to him. The look in his eyes tells you he's begging for a punishment, and you're more than willing to give it to him.

«I-It feels – ah – good» he moans, biting his bottom lip as your eyes take in as much of that view as you can. He's still teasing you, making you think that his hands are enough to please him as much as you would, but you know better than that.

«Why don't you cum, then?»

His eyes go wide, your words clearly surprising him.

«Y-You mean... you're okay with that?»

You nod, shrugging as if you couldn't care less about what he's doing. Once you do, his movements stop completely.

«This is not fun» he whines, causing you to grin, satisfied with the way things are turning out. «Aren't you mad?»

Instead of answering, you simply get up, heading towards your bedroom, not even bothering to look back to see if he's following you.

«Fine, I'll do it alone, then!» he yells from the other room, but, once again, you do not answer.

In less than two minutes – enough for him to realize you weren't going to come back – he slowly follows you inside your bedroom, stopping before the bed on which you're currently laying.

«Done?» you tease, causing a needy whine to leave his lips.

Climbing on the mattress, he kneels in front of you, his hands on his thighs as you stare at him – his twitching member catching your attention.

«Please, Y/N, please.»

«You know that's not how you should call me» you chant, sitting up before slowly crawling closer to him.

A deep shade of red colours his cheeks as he lowers his gaze, suddenly shy at the thought of the name you like so much.

«D-Daddy.»

Humming in content, you gently caress his face, before forcing him to raise his chin and look at you.

«Say it again.»

«Daddy, please.»

«What a good kitty...» you praise. «Such a shame you decided to misbehave earlier.»

Knowing what's about to come, he can't help but smile – a smile that he doesn't even try to hide. After all, that's what he's been craving the whole time.

Motioning for him to turn around, you kneel, sitting on your heels, and he quickly does the same, his hands behind his back without you even telling him. Taking your belt off, you swiftly tie his hands, not bothering to take off his shirt before doing so. Then, you take off your own shirt, tossing it on the floor, wondering whether it'd be better to leave your bra on or not. Knowing how much he loves your breasts, you decide to take it off, putting it right in front of him – your action causing him to whine at the thought of having you almost naked and not being able to touch you.

«I need to punish you, kitty» you say, your hand pulling him against your chest, your bare skin in contact with the fabric of his shirt – not enough to tease him as much as you would like to, but you'll have to settle with this; in any case, you know for sure he can feel your perky nipples against his back.

Once you're sure he's in the right position – a bit surprised that he's not putting up a fight, as if his bratty side had suddenly disappeared – your hand clutches around his shaft, while the other one slowly moves up to his neck. A choked out moan leaves his lips as soon as you gently squeeze his neck, slowly jerking him off as you do so.

«Did you have to behave like that, kitty? Huh?» you ask, slowly increasing your pace, your only intention being to bring him as close as possible to his high.

Instead of an answer, he lets out a deep grunt, trying to control himself so that he won't start thrusting his hips.

«What was that?»

«Ugh, fuck, s-sorry» he mutters, his deep voice barely audible, a few gasps here and there as he tries to speak.

The way you keep on squeezing his neck is driving him crazy, grunts and moans leaving his lips as he feels himself getting closer and closer to his high.

«P-Please, daddy» he begs. «Please, can I cum, please?»

«Do it, kitty.»

It doesn't take long before you can feel some warm and sticky substance on your hand, causing you to slow down your pace – but not stopping completely. Instead, your hand still around his neck, you keep on pumping him, quickly going back to your original pace, his eyes wide in shock as he understands what you're planning on doing. Not that he minds – quite the contrary, in fact: he loves it. Your room is filled with lewd sounds – your hand working on his members, his soft moans and deep grunts, your lips kissing and nibbling at his ears, a few high-pitched moans following as soon as you do so. Soon enough, he's begging again.

«Fuck, daddy» he moans, slowly getting used to the name he's calling you with – like every other time, it takes some time before can be completely comfortable while using it. «I-It feels s-so good.»

«Does it, kitty?» you tease, slowing down your pace on purpose, sending shivers down his spine.

He nods, gasping.

«F-Fucking love it.»

Instead of reminding him that it's a punishment he's experiencing – and punishments shouldn't be that pleasurable – you do your best to push him over the edge and, after some begging from his side, he comes all over your hand once again.

«Do you think you can take one more?» you ask, not sure how much his body can take before he gets too tired for it.

«As many as you wish, daddy.»

Pleased with his answer, you start moving your hand once again, using his own semen as lube, and swiftly increasing your pace. At the same time, your other hand squeezes his neck several times – not enough to cause him actual pain, but enough for him to feel light-headed once again.

In less than two minutes, he's cumming again – this time, he's forgotten to ask for it, but you let it slide. It goes on like this for almost half an hour – him reaching his high more times than he can count, and you cooing and praising him every time he does. In the end, both of you are exhausted and completely spent. Despite that, you know it was worth it – and the expression of pure bliss on his face only confirms it.

«You okay, kitty?» you ask, once he has caught his breath, while untying his hands.

«Yeah» he whispers, his head reclined over your shoulder as you gently massage his wrists. «That was amazing.»

Humming, you move so that it's easier for him to lay on the bed, before getting off and grabbing a few napkins from the night-stand.

«Are you sure it wasn't too much?» you ask, trying to make sure you didn't accidentally hurt him, as you start gently cleaning him.

Shaking his head, he props himself on his elbows, watching as you move around his crotch, cleaning any remain of semen you can find.

«What's with the daddy thing, by the way?» he asks, and you can tell by his tone that he's not trying to tease you, he's just genuinely curious.

«I just like it» you say, shrugging. «Don't you?»

«Oh, I don't mind.»

Still, he indulges in your kink. Not a thing too many people would do, and you're grateful for that.

«What about a hot bath?»

«I'll pass» he answers, shaking his head. «Too tired, maybe tomorrow.»

Agreeing with him, you quickly stop by the bathroom to wash your hands, before climbing back onto the bed. He's already under the blankets, waiting for you with the prettiest smile you've ever seen.

«You can be quite an attention whore sometimes, you know that?»

«Isn't that why you love me?»

Laughing, you rest your head on his chest, quickly falling asleep to the steady, calming sound of his heartbeat.

[got7-markjinson]

Strawberries and Chocolates

Pairing: JB x Reader x Yugyeom Genre: Fluff; Warnings: None!

You were in love with your childhood friend, Im Jaebum for as long as you can remember. But you have been keeping it a secret which slipped out one drunken night with him. Avoiding the awkward confrontation, you employed your neighbor Kim Yugyeom to pretend to be your boyfriend.

A/N: As I post this, they just released film teaser and I’m screaming/crying! @katdefbeom @parkhabits HELP!

Read: Chapter 1, Chapter 3(END)

Chapter 2

“A dancer, huh?”, Kat repeated when Yugyeom answered her question on what he does for a living. You’re all currently inside a tailor shop, having a fitting for the dresses and suits of the bridesmaids and groomsmen. It was supposed to only be you who was required to go, but Kat insisted you bring your new “boyfriend” with you.

You were nervous at first, but after introducing Yugyeom to everyone, they seem to welcome him. It didn’t even occur to you that Yugyeom is a very charming person. Somehow you always thought of him as this annoying neighbor and nothing more. But you even got a few looks of approval from your girl friends when they saw how he looked like. Looking at him closer, you realize, maybe he is handsome. Plus his height adds to his points, too.

“Yeah, I do all types of dances but I’m currently teaching street dance at the JYP studio.”, he added.

“Wow! JYP studio! I’m impressed. It’s really a famous studio for dancers.”, Mark chimed in. “I have a few friends who go there for some of their classes.”

“Really? That’s good news for us then!”, Kat clapped her hands. “Maybe you can help us for our dance rehearsal!”

“Dance rehearsal?”

“Yeah. We’re actually planning for a dance at the reception where everyone of our close friends dance with us. That is, if you’re not too busy, of course.”

“Oh, no problem!”, Yugyeom grinned. “If it’s for Y/N’s friends, just let me know so I can make time to help out.”

Kat smiled at Yugyeom’s remark. She’s so happy to see and hear that Yugyeom really cares for her friend.

Meanwhile, inside the dressing area, you were reaching for the zipper of your bridesmaid dress. You were facing the mirror, your back towards the door, when you heard someone come in.

“Need any help with that?”

You turned around to see it was JB. “What are you doing here?”

He chuckled and stepped closer to help you zip up the dress. “I was dying to see how you look like.”

“You mean, you were dying to make fun of how I would look like.”, you corrected and turned to face him again.

He laughed a little more and you see his eyes disappear into crescents again which never fails to make your heart flutter, “That was the plan.”, he said and with both his hands holding each side of your arms, he takes another look at you in the dress. “But you actually don’t look all that bad.”

Your eyes squinted, waiting for the catch, the punchline to the joke. But it never came. He just looked at you with a content smile on his face and you felt your cheeks blush.

Wanting to get rid of the awkwardness, you focused your attention to the tie laying lazily around his neck, “What did you with this?”, you laughed and tried to tie it for him. “Don’t tell me you still don’t know how to tie this.”

“And you do?”, he asked.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“I didn’t know that.”, he looked at you in wonderment.

“Well, Mr. Im Jaebum, there’s a lot of me you probably don’t know about, anymore.”, you tapped the tie on his chest, looking satisfied with how it turned out.

Just then, Yugyeom opened the curtains to your dressing area, “Y/N, are you done?”

You and JB turned to look at him in surprise and quickly took a step back from each other.

“Yup. We were just about to go out.”, you answered.

JB nodded to Yugyeom and stepped ahead.

“What was he doing here?”, Yugyeom whispered to you.

“Just saying hello.”, you answered and followed JB out the dressing area.

After Kat checked on all the dresses, she sat back down beside Mark. She asked Yugyeom, “So what do you think of how our Y/N looks? She looks better in a dress, doesn’t she?”, she teased.

“I don’t know.”, Yugyeom answered with his eyes on you and you’re signaling something in the lines of ‘answer nicely, or you’re dead!’, he grinned. “I actually think she looks better when she wakes up in the morning with her messy hair and sleepy eyes.”

You can hear Kat and a few of the other bridesmaids, squeal from Yugyeom’s remark. Yugyeom gave you a quick wink before grinning, pleased with himself.

**

After a few days, you were surprised when Kat setup another meetup at a dance studio near your place, whose name is familiar to you, but you can’t remember why. You came in and was ushered into one of the rooms. It was dark at first with only a light shining on one person at the center. A song started playing in the background and you can see how the dancer in front smoothly started moving.

When he turned around, you finally saw that it was none other than Yugyeom. You were caught in surprise. He was totally different from how you pictured him to be. It felt like he’s really born to dance, and you can’t help but admire how well he performed. You were speechless the entire time until the song ended, and all the lights went on. You saw your friends were also already there watching with you and applauded.

Yugyeom saw you and gave you his signature puppy look smile, and you smiled back.

Kat revealed about the plans to have the entourage dance with her and Mark during the reception and that is why you were called here. To practice dancing. And now your palms are sweating, predicting all the embarrassment you are going to have when everyone will see you have two left feet.

The next hours were spent on Yugyeom teaching you and your friends the dance to the surprise performance. You thought Yugyeom would tease you because of how slow you were compared to the others, but you were surprised with how patient he actually was with you. He even praises you when you get the step correctly, even if it’s not that good.

Thankfully, the practice ended, and everyone bade their goodbye and thanked teacher Yugyeom.

“You got quite a catch there, Y/N. I’ll make sure you catch the bouquet at the wedding.”, Kat whispered to you before leaving you and Yugyeom standing at the curb in front of the dance studio.

You just now noticed Yugyeom was holding your hand when he pulled you to walk towards your apartment building. You looked at it, how big his hands were enwrapped with yours. You looked at his back, you just now realize how wide and tall he is. Just the boyfriend material, if you didn’t know him any better.

“Why are you so quiet?”, he asked. “Dancing made you tired?”

“I’m sorry I’m not as used to dancing as you are, Teacher Yugyeom.”, you mocked, and he laughed. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re going to teach us dancing?”

“I thought it would be a good surprise for you.”, he grinned. “Plus, I don’t think you would’ve approved.”

“What do you mean?”

“Of me, being around you and your friends as much as necessary.”, he clarified.

You nodded but didn’t deny.

“I’m actually surprised with one of your friends, was it JB?”, he added.

You looked at him, waiting for what he’s going to say about him. Your JB.

“He danced so well. I would’ve thought he’s a dancer, too.”

“Oh”, you nodded and Yugyeom noticed how you smiled proudly to yourself. “Yeah, he’s cool like that.”

When you reached your door, Yugyeom asked, “Hey, can I take a shower at your place first? My shower is still acting up and I wanted to clean before sleeping.”

“Yeah sure. I’m gonna watch TV before sleeping anyway.”, you settled on the couch as he returned to your apartment with a towel and change of clothes.

After showering, he saw you all sprawled out on the couch, asleep. He chuckled at how carefree you were. He turned off the TV and took the remote slowly out of your hands. Raising your hands over to his shoulder, he carried you into your bedroom and tucked you in.

He brushed the hair away from your face and grinned when he saw you smiled in your sleep.

**

The next day, you woke up to see a chat from JB.

JB: “Do you have any plans today?”

You typed back, “I have work until 6.”

JB: “Can we meet up after?”

You typed back, “Sure.”

**

You arrived at the restaurant JB reserved and saw he’s already there waiting for you. He stood up when you walked closer and gave you a hug.

It was pretty casual at first, ordering food, eating, having small talks, and updates on the KatMark wedding plans. After dinner, you both walked at a nearby park.

“Five cats???”, you asked in shock and he laughed at how you reacted. “How could you live with five cats?”, you asked again.

“Remember when we were young, we both wanted cats?”

“I remember. But I didn’t think it would be that many!”

He laughed again. “Jen was against cats. So, I guess when we broke up, I splurged.” And with the mention of Jen, you both got quiet. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me and Jen breaking up.”

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I’m the one who was unreachable.” You say.

“You say that, but…”, he began. “I actually avoided you back then too.”

It was the first time you heard it. “I didn’t tell you that me and Jen broke up because I don’t want to tell you why we broke up in the first place.”, he said.

“The truth is, she was really jealous of you. I have put you in a pedestal that she said I wouldn’t be able to love anyone. And I kept telling her she’s wrong about it. That you are special to me but not in that way. But she keeps comparing herself to you. Saying things like, if it was you who did that, I wouldn’t have been mad, or if it was you I’m with, I would have been happier.”

“When we broke up, I thought about it, and maybe she was right. I have loved you for far too long, maybe I just needed to tell you that and everything would be fine. Which is why, I was really excited for the reunion.”

He smiled, trying to compose himself as he tells you this. “Don’t worry, I know you already have Yugyeom. Who I think is really a great person, by the way. I don’t want to ruin that. I just wanted you to know… “, he paused. “When you told me that you loved me back in the bar at that reunion, I thought that was my chance to finally confess my feelings too. But I guess I was too late.”

“I guess what I’m saying is… I’m glad you found him. I see the way he takes care of you. Just forgive me for being a little bitter that it wasn’t me but know that I’m really happy for you.”, You can see the sadness in his smile and your guilt was creeping up into you again.

You couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t really say you and Yugyeom’s relationship is not real. No, you were already in too deep to go back now. Tears are starting to form from your eyes and you summoned all your will not to let it drop.

**

You were about to put your keys into the door knob when you were startled to see Yugyeom standing in front of his door just a few paces from you.

“It’s really unfair you’re telling me not to date anyone when I see you’re dating someone else.”, he said. His face serious, different from how he usually is.

“What do you mean? JB?”, you asked. “No, that’s not a date Gyeom.”

“It isn’t? Then why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?”, he asked. Please tell me I’m just being paranoid, he said to himself.

“Look, Gyeom.”, you say. “You never asked me why I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend. I think you need to know why so you understand.”

You walked to the mini playground of your apartment building. You both sat side by side on the swing set under the night sky to talk.

“JB was my childhood friend and I’ve loved him since forever.”, you confessed. “When we graduated from college and had work, he started dating a girl named Jen. The first time I heard of it, my heart was torn to pieces. I know I deserved that, since I never really did anything to tell him about my feelings. And I know I couldn’t bear seeing them together, so I avoided him. When I saw him again at that high school reunion,”, you breathed in. “…my stupid drunken self, confessed to him. About how I fell for him. But I can’t go through with him confronting me about it. So, I took the coward’s route. I told him I already have a boyfriend.” You sighed. “I was so afraid of what he would say or what would happen, I just wanted to let it be the same as it is.”

“Hmmmm...”, Yugyeom thought for a few seconds after you spoke. “I think your fear is invalid. I think if you straight ahead and tell him your feelings he would accept and reciprocate it.”

“I’m afraid of that too.”, you replied.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been living my life thinking of this perfect “what ifs” with him. He was that dream, the ideal thing I have in my life. I’m afraid when we get together, it wouldn’t live up to it. and if we end it, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to get him back as a friend.”

“Well, nobody knows that. Nobody knows what would happen, right? You just have to take a leap. Afterall, wouldn’t reality with him a million times better than your perfect “what ifs”?”

You sit and stared at Yugyeom for a moment. You wonder where he found wisdom to speak like that. It gave you a lot to think about. You’re thankful you had that conversation. You somehow see him in a new light. He’s not that annoying neighbor anymore but rather this smart, reliable friend/pretend-boyfriend. 

**

A/N: Dear reader, when you reach this, please help me decide who y/n ends up with. Team Yugyeom or Team JB ^_^

[aisu-zeilia]

To Allure and Impede

SUMMARY: Marvin Lockens was fifteen when he was brought under Jameson Jackson’s wing and first started learning how to control and use his magic. Since then, he’s met Henrik Schneeplestein, the Castle’s doctor and his father figure, Chase Brody, the Castle’s Third in Command and best archer around, Jackie Bullmon, the Second in Command and Head Guard who’s always wearing red, and Sean McLoughlin, the King Himself, as well as various others. Yet, despite being with them for more than four years and proving to be a skilled mage, they all still treated him like the shy child they first met. And he was tired of it. What happens when he meets a stranger in the woods, who gives him cards to hand out and disappears into the shadows? What happens when he hides it from everyone? What happens at the Masquerade?

W̙͍̠̿̄͘h̬̲͇̻͎̍a̖̣͇̯͌̈͆ͯ̒͊̿t͇̗̖͕̻̽̄̑ ͚̼̜̪̥͎ͪͬ͊ͦͫ̉̚H̻̯͈͎͇͎͇ͣͣ͛͛ͣ̇ã̠̼̝̖̫̌̽ͯ̍̑p̝̌̐̿̔ͩͤṗ̷̻̳ͤ̂͋ͬ̋͒e̫̪̣̽̐ń͓͚̞͈̲̯͡s̶̀̐͋͂̈?̥̖͊͘

Chapter 2

Word count: 1587

Warnings: nostalgia, lies, high anxiety levels Whoop, chapter two is up and runnin! I had a bit of fun, mainly with the reminiscing part. Again, thank you to my beta readers, @lin-apples and @jackjames-exe . I dunno what else to say, except im not really sorry for the ending.

previous // next

"Marv, there you are! I got Sal and came back only to find you gone." Chase commented, approaching him with reins in each hand. He paused, examining the ruffled apprentice. "....what...happened to you? You're covered in mud and theres a buncha grass on your back. "

Marvin blinked, looking around. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about!" "....you sure?" Chhase looked at him suspiciously, handing him the reins to Sal. "Yeah, im perfectly alright, " Marvin replied, an attempt to brush off any concern. "I just thought I sensed something, but all it was is older magic. Like, weeks old, and I was barely able to sense it." Chase crossed his arms, sending him a blank look. "That doesn't explain the mud. " "....may or may not have fallen down a ditch...." Marvin looked away sheepishly as the guard began to laugh. Immediately the tips of his ears were turned pink. " Hey, its not funny!" He attempted to defend himself. "I can't really see when im looking for traces, my eyes have to be shut!" "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, " Chase waved his hand, yet still qore a smug grin on his face. "Now come on. I trust that you're alright, but it would be best if you got checked on. So go see Henrik after you change, okay?" "Fiiine" Marvin rolled his eyes, mounting his paint. He readjusted his cloak a bit once in a while as they rode home, chattering the entire ride home. Jokes were occasionally made, all the qay to the gate. Chase never noticed the new deck of cards on the sheath of his sword.

"Ah, Marvin! Good to see you, " Henrik Schneeplestein commented, looking up from the bandages that were currently being reorganized. "Sit, sit! What can I do for you?" "Hey doc, " Marvin commented, having pit on fresh clothes after washing off. "Chase sent me." Henrik huffed. "Why? Did zhe lad get stuck in something again? I warned him to not go down zhe laundry chutes!" He snorted, hopping onto the stool by the Castle medic. "As funny as that would be, no. Actually, i was out with him earlier and may or may not have fallen down a ditch..." "If I had a coin every time one of you fell down into something in zhe woods." Henrik rolled his eyes. "Is your ankle sprained or anything?" He set the box of bandages to the side and turned to face the apprentice. He ahook his head. "No, I feel fine. But Chase still wanted me to get an ok from you." "Considering how many falls he takes, I should be less surprised." Henrik stepped closer, examining a few joints and liftingthe back of Marvin's shirt to check for any bruising or scratches. All the while, the patient seemed unusually quiet. "...Is something zhe matter, Marvin? " Marvin blinked. "Hm? No, why do you ask?" "Well, its as if something is on your mind. Like something is concerning you." He thought for a moment. "Nothing comes to mind at the moment Doc. But I'll let you know if it ever changes." Henrik was hesitant to let him go so easily. If something was actually bugging him, then they should talk, right? "....Alright. But feel free to come and talk to zhe good doctor if ypu ever need to!" "Soooooo any other doctor. Got it." "I'll have you know I am a 100% qualified real doctor!" "I know, I know! Im kidding around Henrik." "Hmpf" He continued his examination , having him stand, walk around, hop, and do a couple of other basic actions to make sure he was alright and not feeling any pain. "Well, as far as I can tell, you seem to be physically alright. " "Thanks doc!" Marvin stretched, feeling a satisfying pop in his back. He walked over to the door, but paused. "....hey Henrik...?" -Hm?" The doctor had turned back to his work, reorganizing a few scattered papers on his desk. ".....nothing, nevermind, " he shook his head. Best not to disrupt someone busy, afterall. "See you at dinner?" "See you at dinner, Marvin." He replied, smiling behind the surgical mask he always wore.

Marvin inhaled, wandering the halls of the castle aimlessly. He knew where he was, since he had spent years already wandering the many rooms the stone building held. He knew where to turn to reach the ballroom, the dining room, the foyer, the library, as well as everyone's room. The Apprentice paused, looking up at a stained glass window. It was tall, showing a dark and a light figure. Solaris and Lunairis. The sun and the moon. As the hall continued to stretch further and further, the story of the creation of life continued being told. He took a few steps back, leaning against the walls. Eyes shut, head tilted up, and overall simply just basking in the memories and the nostalgia. Marvin chuckled to himself. When he first came here, he would always come back to this hall, always seeming to read the story on the windows just a little bit different each time. And each time, he could spend hours on end just sitting in this hall. What did he call it again? Hall of histories? Histories indeed. It not only reminded him of the history of the land, but his own history as well. His first spell took place here. He was continuously muttering the words, making sure he got them right. Next thing he knew, an entire suit of armor had toppled over. Marvin laughed, remembering how he ran away and hid for hours. The old grandfather clock chimed. Five o'clock. Almost time for dinner. With a sigh, he opened his eyes and continued his wandering. The difference now, though, was that his aim was for his own room.

"Hey teach!" Marvin opened the door to Jameson's office, smiling at his instructor and his sovereign. One arm cradled a book, the other held the door open. 'Hello Marvin,' Jameson signed, a small smile on his lips "Hey Marv!" Sean waved, currently sitting in the seat that was usually reserved for the mute mage. "Ohey Sean!" Marvin chimed, walking in with a pep to his steps. He set his book down on his chair, opting to sit on his desk instead. "Whatchu two doing?" 'Nothing much.' He signed, turning slightly so both Sean and Marvin could see and understand his sign language. 'Just discussing the Ball in a few days.' "The one for Mark's birthday? " Marvin asked, head slightly tilting. "Yeah, " Sean nodded. "Him and a few of his and my court members should be arriving over the next couple of days. They'll all be attending." "Is Felix coming, and will he be coming early?" He asked. Sean chuckled. "If I didn't invite him he'd probably send us a crate full of ducks again. And you know him. He's always early so he has a say in the decor. " "That sounds about right," Marvin shrugged. "And I do not have to attend the masquerade, right?" He winced slightly. "About that......no, you have to attend the masquerade." "What!" He squawked. "Why!? I've never had to attend before!" 'Because you're the next court mage. As such, you have to attend all functions,' Jameson signed calmly, not even flinching at the outburst. He had gotten used to it after teaching him for so long, afterall. "He's not wrong, Marv. We've given you the freedom to decide for the past four years." Sean spoke up, trying to play off the jump that was caused by Marvin's sudden outburst. "Jamie is already attending! Why do I have to go too?!" He protested. No, he didnt want this. 'We already told you.' Jamie signed. " That doesnt explain shit! It's my life, i shouldn't have to go if I don't want to!" "Marv, please just ca-" Sean was cut off by a sudden slam on the desk. Jameson had slammed the book that was previously in between his arm and side onto the wood desk loudly. He quickly began signing, even somehow adding a very angry tone to it. 'Marvin, listen to me! For the past four years we have given yo freedom and choice for every event bevause you were a child. But now its time to grow up. You aren't the child on the streets anymore so quit acting like it!' Marvin blinked. He could feel the tears building up, breathing becoming slightly more difficult. ".......you can't make me go if you can't find me. " Suddenly he was running, slamming the door open. He didn't care where to. He just needed out. He needed space. Safety. He needed to get away. He couldn't see. He could barely feel himself run into someone. Couldn't hear the shouts of alarm, the footsteps behind him. He didnt know how, but he reached his room. Yet, Marvin still didn't feel the freesom, the space he craved. The room was too small, too confining. He needed out. So, the young mage grabbed a bag, a clean and veey basic cloak, as well as a different, more basic mask. Marvin threw open the balcony doors, ignoring the feverent knocking at his door, the shouts to get his attention. He was already climbing down the vines that grew onto the walls of the stone. By the time someone unlocked the door, he would be gone. There would be no finding him anywhere on castle grounds. Marvin had run away.

[alyjojo]

20 memories & isms I love about you.

1. He sent me flowers at work. Twice 🥰

2. He left work to help me fix my tire, outside my ex’s house. Never drove on a highway before that day. (no I shouldn’t have dated the guy, but that particular Gemini is the asc degree of our composite chart, he’s the reason we ever met at all, and hubby is the reason we broke up so...lesson learned)

3. He made me eat his mom’s food. Not only that but excitedly. He’d be like “mom is making hot spaghetti and you’re gonna come over and have some”...I’d say no thx 20 times but he wasn’t hearing it. Hot spaghetti day. I felt weird having someone’s mom cook for me. She probably felt weird too tbh, but he was so over the top happy about mom, food, and me, that it didn’t seem to matter and worked out fine 😆

4. He’s so forward, and bold as hell. I’m irritatingly shy and very guarded. Literally the only way he got me was because he’d act before I could really even think about it or think myself out of it. Winners mind.

5. He moved me into his moms house. I was not ok. Not not not. My pride is...well it exists, and burns like fire whenever help is given. I will never ask in all my life and idc, feels better that way. Will gladly die first. My rotors were broken though (I could write a book just about car problems fr), I needed two and it was gonna take awhile. I’d be in the city and he’d be way out there. He’s like nah. You stay. He insisted...and I stayed. Staying was not a me thing, he changed that.

6. He gave me a baby. After all of the years I didn’t have periods, needed pills to have a normal body, all of the times I talked myself out of that sort of life altogether because I clearly didn’t have the guy (ex was not a kid guy) or the working body parts to even do that, must not be for me. First time in our new apartment, boom baby.

7. First time in our slightly bigger and nicer apartment, boom baby 2. We started actually using protection after she was born. Clearly we can.

8. He worked stupidly long hours and put up with so many people that just had no fn clue, it put a strain on everything, most of all him. When he got the offer for Indy, I pushed it. And pushed it. And pushed. May as well have pushed him right out the door, we were going, because those people suck and you’ll never get the chance to be seen while you’re doing that glorified delivery guy’s job for him. We’re going. So, we did, and he got me out of this damn state. At least once.

9. He loved getting lost with me, and it was my favorite thing. Indiana is a beautiful state and I encourage anyone to get lost there, on purpose.

10. I forgot work. He caused some serious change. Everyone else lost their job, including hubby’s favorite person ever, Jonathan. Today he’s the sole survivor of a mom and pop shop, and I’m so unbelievably proud of him. The best part though, is two of the guys from work used to come see me at my new work all the time, with all their bar bitches 😆 They were my favorite people, I was always so excited to see them. Hubby tried to get them back on, and did for one of them. And when the bigger boss needed a new smaller boss bc hubby was leaving the state, hubby fought like hell for Jonathan. Like Highlander, there can only be one *sksksksksksk* They looked at a couple and hubs was like no only Jon knows the ways of the force. They hired him back, Jon has sent him some of the sweetest thank you messages...it changed his life, and hubs still loves him very much. It’s adorable.

11. Screamy baby Shmoo, she was a screamy baby, and so very beautiful. Baby Bam was like a dream, she was the perfect baby in every way. My screamy baby Shmoo was also a perfect baby, with a pitch that could break glass and sometimes she just wanted to practice for hours. Usually I got her to bed with mama snuggles & milk, singing Alison Krauss and rocking. Sometimes though, on the roughest nights, it’d be over an hour before I’d open the door with screamy baby still in a fit, and he’d take her. He’s so warm and calm, he’d win every single time, and I’d be like...zzzzz tysm ily tyty zzzz....

12. His jokes. He’s not funny (yes he is don’t tell him). He thinks he’s funny. He jokes all day every day about everything always. The girls know when dad says something to be skeptical bc he said they gotta go outside and till the land with tiny shovels, and when I roll my eyes they know he’s full of it. What’s funnier, his mom was the kind of person that took things literally always. Every time him and his goofy dad were being sarcastic, I’d have to tell her that because they’d have her believing crazy stuff. My kids share a lot of her isms, that’s one. My son absolutely does not joke, he is quite literal (so far), and I always have to scold hubby or tell lil guy nooooo he’s kidding. I don’t talk about his silliness nearly enough and I should, that’s him ❤️

13. His relationship with his mom. His mom was always on the...I wouldn’t say weaker side, but older, regular pain, on disability. He was her BABY. Her eyes lit up like Christmas when he entered the room. She loves him so so much. His sister... You know the kind, or...just imagine, probably close. He hated it. He got his job pretty young and just kept it. Always had money, always offered to help his mom, always was like IM FINE MOM. She just wanted to do for him, and he’s always been the kind of guy that wants to do for himself. And she was so funny, she’d slip $20 into the diaper bag and tell me “don’t tell him”, putting it on me. So we’d get in the car. And I’d be like there’s $20 in the diaper bag, knowing he’s gonna be pissed if he finds it (she needs it). And he’d get it, run into the house, set it on her table, and run out the door while she ran after him hollering protests 😆 Lots of other stories too. I miss her so much, I can’t even imagine how much he must.

14. His relationship with his sister, and other whirlwind people. He’s like a rock. I’ve spent lots of time with his sister, but not at once. The one day I did, I came home and my brain was so full of her bazillion ideas and impulsive let’s do this and just one thing, opposite thing, different subject, back to the subject, hey let’s do this, omg I have an idea. I love her to death but I had to sit and just...dump my brain. Ask myself for my own input bc I’d lost wtf...what were we doing again?!? Him though? Doesn’t miss a beat. No...no...no...I’ll think about it...no...no..change subject. No issue saying no. Back then I was like thank god, girl would have me on a cruise to Aruba tomorrow with costume jewelry and black face before I could even think to protest. Not him.

15. Making up. The difference between Taurus moon and Sag moon is that Taurus moon stays mad for the rest of their lives (hello...) and Sag moon wakes up in the morning like nothing happened in the history of ever. This was something that irritated me THE MOST. Don’t make me laugh, I’m pissed at you. Over the years, it became the only way we’d talk at all sometimes. Is certainly the only reason we made up, countless times. He never stopped trying to make me smile, even if I wanted nothing to do with it.

16. Acts of Service. Is not mine, which is either words time or touch and I really can’t decide which. All. He speaks a whole other language. He will let me nap, or take the kids somewhere, he will spontaneously clean or go grocery shopping, walk the dog, mow the lawn, hang out at the birthday party. It didn’t start right away, more and more as he learned my isms. He’ll make me coffee as I’m coming down the stairs. I rarely have to ever ask for any practical thing. He knows my orders for anything, recently there’s been twice that he literally read my mind before I spoke. I try to do the same for him as much as I can, because I know that’s his language and I really appreciate him.

17. Bedroom games. The man knows my body like a map, no, an Excel spreadsheet 😭, and how to get every reaction he’s looking for. He is the only man to ever satisfy my insatiable ass. He made me a whole new person in that regard. He says the same about me. Never an issue there. It’s this far down the list cuz it’s not the most important, but it’s pretty important too so there that is.

18. We share the same goals. We judge the same way, like why did they wrap this like that it looks sketchy. We parent the same. We decide the same. We critically think and weigh ideas the same. We walk the same line in the same direction. If anything he’s too negative sometimes, but that’s his own personal thing. Can’t be full of Capricorn and not lean more toward pessimism (not “realism”) sometimes I think. If it’s worth it, I’ll try to coax him to middle ground. Sometimes it’s a battle, but only if I’m really sure. Usually, he’s right, so I just let him lead.

19. When I was pregnant with my son. Initially. It was hell. His car was trashed, mine was broken and thousands of dollars to fix (this particular car in this particular year has this and what a coincidence it was particularly my problem...cars, I’m telling ya). I was two feet out the door with his shit, but his sister’s issues led to my heart. Because her kids. I love them very much, of course they can stay here and not with some strange person hell no. I cannot describe how angry I was at him. HE strapped backpacks onto his back and walked to the nearest store. Hauled so much crap in a huge backpack and just his arms. Over the course of two months. He quit drinking. He went above and beyond to do get offer or provide anything I could even imagine. More romantic then I think I’d ever seen him before. At least...it had been some time anyway. Of course...he was lying to me. The whole time. To what extent idk. Regarding the work shit, idk. Thus the question and the dream and the crazy and the...crazy 😞 Wanted to piss me off boy he got that tenfold. His actions during this time period are 💯 why I stayed. He was clearly trying like hell to prove to me he could try, and it’s more than anyone I’ve ever known has even bothered to “bother” with. I was impressed, and proud. Respect counts for a lot more than love sometimes, and at the time I respected him.

20. He’s an amazing father. There are so many stories I couldn’t possibly write them all. Our son though, he chose daddy, right from the start. Nothing like our daughters, nor any kid I’d known. He’d scream, FOR his dad. He’d only sleep on his shoulder. Hubby held this baby for hours on end. If he didn’t baby would demand it, but it was very natural to them both. Baby wanted a bottle, and hubby to give it to him. It blew my mind. Hubby got his little teammate and together they’ve changed my life and perspective in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined.

I’ve spent so long sporadically venting on here that I don’t think I’ve ever posted the sweet things. So many great memories and daily...everything...are missing, so many years and little moments. That would take forever. Its always been my frustrations, which was the purpose. This is my heart. No matter what happens, all of these things will always be true.

[sunnysidewrites]

Wolf!Wonwoo

Requested by anon: The Wonwoo fic and Taeyang fic are so freaking cute and they are so well written too omg! Please write more fics for the both of them as they're my favourites (: Wolf!au? Thank you ((((:

Requested by anon: Wolf!au for wonwoo or woozi! Thank you and I love your works!!

so i got the same au request i hope both of these suited your taste! LIKE I SAID I HAVE OVERWHELMING FEELS FOR WONWOO SO THIS IS PROBABLY LIKE THE LONGEST HEADCANON I’VE EVER WRITTEN THIS IS SUPER LONG OMG BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY EVERYONE!!!! BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE WONWOO IMAGINES :)))) if you weren’t satisfied please send me another request!

oKAY NO LIE I WAS LITERALLY THINKING ABOUT THIS LAST NIGHT

I was lying in bed and was just like “hm you know wonwoo really resembles a wolf????”

aND THE NEXT THING I KNOW I HAVE 2 REQUESTS ABOUT THIS AU LMAO

I love jeon wonwoo anyways

You lived near a very dense forest with your grandpa

Since it was a small town, there could only be so many things that could happen before word travels

Ofc nothing ever happens in your small town the most eventful thing was when the local market ran out of your favorite potato chips like honEST TO GOD

But as of late there’s been more signs of wildlife in the forest and everyone is lowkey freaking out like what is this we haven’t even had livestock in 80+ years????

Thanks to the dense forest there’s been showing a steadily increase in deer population yay!!!! But also what!!!!

With deer ofc comes…………

Wolves

Packs and packs of them

You’re worried for your life what if a wolf is gonna attack you one day since you’re right next to their habitat!!!!!

Your grandpa is just like lmao y/n chill i was a hunter back in the days we’ll be fine

It was a chillier day than usual in the winter and temperatures were dramatically dropping

You were tired of being cooped up in the small little house so you were just roaming around in front of your porch and playing with the fluffy snow

You smol child were too busy cutely hopping around to notice a wolf lurking behind the trees oH SNAP

It wasn’t until it got a little closer that you felt a strange presence and you know that eery feeling in the horror movies where it’s like …..i feel like someone is there…..

You immediately stopped and cautiously looked around you

You would have missed it if you weren’t so keen about your surroundings bc the wolf so easily blended in with the forest and snow

yOU WERE GONNA SCREAM BUT dude they can probably smell fear that’s not your best choice here

your heart leapt in your throat so you couldn’t have screamed even if you wanted to (you did)

Gdi your grandpa was out running errands and he left like half an hour ago so you’re kinda screwed!!!

The wolf looked so,,, ethereal and majestic with its mix of black, gray, and white fur and it was still pretty young

It looked more like a wild husky so beautiful i love dogs

But you obviously didn’t have time to soak in their beauty you were about to get eaten for pete’s sake

You were very very very slowly backing away from it your door was only a few steps away

buT IT KEPT INCHING TOWARDS YOU LIKE PLS LEAVE ME ALONE ALL YOU WANTED WAS TO MAKE A SNOWMAN (it doesn’t have to be a snowman im sorry that joke is old)

You decided that maybe since this winter was harsher than normal it was hard finding food

So once your back hit the wall yOU SLAMMED & LOCKED THAT SHIT

You rummaged through your fridge to see if you could find absolutely anything for the wolf to leave you tf alone

“Aha!” you grabbed a piece of red meat and cut up a fourth of it into smaller chunks

You were pretty damn smart like we’re talking about how a pre teen be doing all of this

You brought your cutting board to your window and sure enough the wolf was still outside your house yiKES

You cautiously opened your window and you could see the little ears perking up

You threw the pieces as far as it could reach the wolf in the hopes of him leaving once he’s gathered his meal

At first the wolf jumped back in surprise like ??? what’s this human doing?????

After a few minutes of inspecting the meat the wolf cautiously approached the makeshift meal and started to gobble all of it in seconds flat

You’re just like,,,,,,,,,,,,,, that could have been me oh my god,,,,,,,,,,

After it finished eating it looks back up to you and even from afar you can see gratitude and hints of,,,, sorrow??? in its eyes

It turns back to the forest and disappears as fast as it came

All your little body can do is slump against the door clutching your beating heart like i WAS GONNA DIE TODAY

You thought that would be the last time you were gonna encounter a wolf but there wouldn’t be a plot then lmao

You managed to prevent any more wolf encounters as you grew up and by the time you hit 20 you have been successful

But all good things must come to an end

You decided to go to a college nearby to still help take care of your aging gramps but the school isn’t all half bad it’s pretty decent so good for you reader!!

It was now winter break aka the longest school holiday your college granted you with so you decided to return home and spend some Quality Time with your grandpa

Your grandpa’s health has been declining more apparently than ever

One time you had to rush him to the hospital because he fell unconscious and you were trying so hard not to tear up and be strong the whole time

You stayed overnight at the hospital despite the nurse insisting you return home but you just camped outside the hospital room and slept there

You woke up to a random blanket on you and you figured it was just a nurse who knew better than to convince you

Your grandpa quickly recovered in a matter of days go gramps

When he was finally discharged and you were approaching the front desk about the bill they were like “oh it’s already been paid for”

“What that’s strange I didn’t even get the bill yet”

“Someone walked in last night and said they’ll take care of it for you miss”

You thank her and walk away in confusion like,,,, ofc you’re grateful that you didn’t have to pay but who on earth would do that?????

One day you wanna explore the forest because i mean you lived next to it for basically almost your entire life and you don’t even know what it looks like!

Ofc your grandpa is like do you wanna get killed child um

“Pls gramps I lived my whole life being terrified of that forest and now that I’m older I kinda want to see what it looks like,,,, I’ll stay close enough to have the house in my view!”

“sigh,,,, well you’re an adult now I trust that you can make decisions for yourself so,,,, fine”

So off you go to your death exploring

You’re amazed by how enchanting the forest looks like from within, nothing like what you see from your house

The snow only adds more of a magical sense

There’s a small pond and some bushes where you guess is the deer’s habitat but they probably left to find a warmer spot

You push yourself to discover more about the forest so you inch just a litttttle farther

You see a bridge and think ????? did someone live here or something why is there a bridge?????

And being the curious cat you are you crossed it only to see aNOTHER HOUSE LIKE UM WHO THE

you hear some muffled talking and you’re just likE OH CRAP I GOTTA SCRAM so you hide behind a fairly big trunk just in time before some faces are in your view

You see a group of men around the same age as you and at first they seem to be normal but what’s normal about living in the middle of the woods????

You carefully eye each of them, and you mentally do a headcount of 13

One of them immediately catches your eye and you can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity

He’s wearing a gray turtleneck and black skinny jeans with a gray winter coAT SLJDKFLJDSFLJFDSLJFDLJDFSJDSF I LOVE WONWOO THE MODEL

He seems to be aware of you and he’s like @ the group

“Guys… do you sense someone here?”

And you’re like oH NO MY COVER IS BLOWN ABOR T M I SS ION

And the guys are like eh wonwoo you’re probably being a little paranoid

“Wonwoo it’s been years just let it GO!!!” (what’s up with all of these frozen puns this is unintentional i sTG!!!!) “the last time you said this it was just a rabbit!”

And you’re like ???? what do they mean by that buT I GOTTA JET

You wait for them to enter the house and wonwoo is the last one

He scans the area one more time and does a little head shake before heading inside

you can’t help but feel a tug in your heart because he just looked so disheartened and dejected

And he sWEARS he could have smelled your scent but maybe it was his brain tricking him like it did all these years :(((

Who hURT MY EMO SON wait you did indirectly lmao

You get tf out of there like “i aint trying to die again bye yall”

You’re scrambling to get out of there and when you reach the house your gramps is like so how did it go

“uM I HAVE HOMEWORK TO DO BYE”

Gramps: but??? it’s ,,,, break,,,,,,

You contemplate about what just happened back there

You: i shouldn’t go back i got lucky and didn’t get eaten alive

Also you: but i need to find out more ok it’s settled I will return

Soon enough you found yourself visiting the same place every day and now wonwoo is rEALLY on edge

“gUYS DON’T YOU SENSE IT WHAT THE HECK”

“wonwoo…….. We acknowledge your senses are the better ones out of us but…… you need to let her go”

You’re like omg what??? Her??? Who’s her?????

“You know I can’t do that…… she fed me -- hey wait a minute, is that someone over there?”

OOOHH FUCKKKKK

You’re like oH WELL FUCK MY LIFE

They whirl around to where his finger is pointing and they’re like hmm wait he’s right it looks like someone’s shadow

“COME OUT WHOEVER YOU ARE”

And you’re scared to literally freaking death bc you are not trying to get yourself killed but i mean you kinda had to see it coming tho

So you do what a reasonable person would

RUN

“hEY WHO ARE YOU”

But you just keep running and you eventually get lost in the forest and you’re like oh my god pLS NOT NOW

You’re desperately trying to reroute but you’re pretty sure you passed by that same stump six times

You try to calm down like ok look it’s still probably around noon and the sun is still out you still have time

That is until you hear a crunch of a leaf

And you’re like oH MY GOD NOW WHAT

You turn around to see you’re surrounded by dark black wolves

This is it this is where you die

And you’re trying to find an escape but you’re practically cornered

“Please….. Go find something else to devour……. I swear I am not tasty at all…………… I’m all bones you wouldn’t want that right aHAHA………...”

One of them inches closer to you and you can guess it’s probably the alpha male since it seems to be the biggest

And you’re like welp i lived a good life IM S ORRY GRAMPS YOU WERE RIGHT

You’re in the middle of having a mental breakdown when the alpha suddenly bares his teeth and you know it’s gonna go down

Just as it’s about to leap on you, you see another blurry figure slAMMING INTO THE ALPHA

A full on wolf battle is going on right in front of you

Not only did that wolf come but his entire pack did so it’s pack vs pack

And some black wolves are still trying to get @ you ;))) to devour you ;)))

I gotta go

But obv the other pack is like dON’T TOUCH HER and you’re super confused bc 

Well there’s obviously more than one thing to be confused about but your main concern is why am I not getting eaten??????

You can’t help but notice the one who rammed his body in your attacker has very,,,, familiar looking fur,,,,,,

And you’re like oMG NO,,,, NO IT CAN’T BE HOW

Since the wolf brawl has temporarily taken the focus off of you, you’re like ok this is my chance 2 escape

You don’t get too far like probably 15 feet when you’re feeling really lightheaded and nauseous

You stumble upon a tree and try to steady yourself but the events took a huge toll on you and so you collapse

Right before you do you feel someone’s arms holding your waist up and some yelling

“I… finally…. found you….” you hear someone whisper in your ear before you really blackout

By the time you regain consciousness the sun is about to set

You’re stirring around in a foreign bed and you’re like wait,,,, hold on,,,,,

Your eyes slowly adjust to the dim light and the strange room

You’re fully awake now and start panicking like where am i???? Am i gonna die?????

You see someone’s head on the edge of the bed and you’re like WHO THE

“oH GOODNESS” your little outburst woke him up

He groggily yawns and rubs his eyes “oh great you’re awake!!!!!11!!11”

You just stare at him in 34384682 emotions welling inside of you like pls do not hurt me i just want 2 go hOmE!!!

He starts to introduce himself as Wonwoo but who cARES YOU JUST WANNA GO HOME

“Ok Wonwoo i have no idea who you are or where I am but I need to leave before I’m actually gonna get killed by my grandpa I appreciate you letting me stay here for the time being but I gotta go now thanks i guess??? bye”

And you’re trying to keep your cool and escape as fast as you can but he’s right on your heels

He is nOT gonna let you leave so easily after spending the past decade thinking about you

You reach the outside of the house and you realize,,,, hey it’s the house i saw earlier,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

He eventually reaches you and pulls you around by the arm and you almost gasp when you see the intense look he has in his eyes

“I,,, can’t let you leave just yet”

“Please i’m sorry for snooping earlier!!! Please let m eg o I swear to keep my distance!!!!”

“tHAT’S THE THING I DON’T WANT YOU TO KEEP YOUR DISTANCE”

You: what

Him: what

“What…. did you say?”

“Don’t you remember me? You fed me”

And you’re like ?????????? ?? ???????  what is this guy on

“Uh… Wonwoo, was it? I think you have the wrong person; I don’t know what you’re--”

And it hits you

That day you thought you were gonna die

You look at him completely baffled like how is that even possible???? That was,,,, a wolf

Your breath is hitching you’re gonna faint again that means he was the same one who saved you from being eaten

“I know it’s hard to believe but that was me!!!!! Food was extremely difficult to find at that time and when I saw you…. Well, i was hoping you would be willing to spare me something”

My heart poor little wonu was gonna starve to death if it weren’t for you

“But…. but how….”

“Ah…. well that’s a story for later but the important thing is I was eternally grateful to you and I was determined to find you again,,,, I wanted to return the favor for saving me. Who do you think paid off your grandpa’s medical bills? I hope that blanket was warm enough for you”

YOU’RE FLIPPING OUT LIKE HOW DID HE

Turns out he’s been watching you from afar as his human form as your little guardian angel (or stalker…. tbh) im crying

“You were thankful just for some pieces of meat I gave out?”

“It wasn’t just some meat. You saved me from dying! I hadn’t had any food in my system for a week. I’ve helped your grandpa plenty of times at the market before. I also purchased those textbooks you needed for that math class”

“Wait but my friend gave those to me?”

“Yeah well that’s what I told her to say to you LOL”

gdi your friend was probably geeking out about how good looking he was

And you’re just trying to process this but it’s overwhelming to say the least

“You… you did all of that for me???”

And he’s like ofc!!! :DDD you deserve everything and more!!!!

And you’re like oH MY GOD DID I JUST DIE AND SEE AN ANGEL

“What about that pack from earlier?”

“That’s our rival pack,,,,, I’m so sorry you had to get caught up in our rivalry but good thing I got there in time. I told the others to help protect you”

And you start tearing up because of how gracious and humble and caring he is and he’s like oh nononono and starts to freak out and hugs you

You’re gonna bAWL why is this guy so nice to you he’s even rubbing circles on your back to help calm you down

“I’m not asking much of you…. but can we try getting to properly know each other? You were the only single person to not judge me in my wolf form,,,,, everyone else would throw sticks and stones :(((“ (words do indeed hurt you tho) “and i’m also grateful that you were able to accept me even as a creature that you feared”

you take a moment to breathe and eventually accept bc even tho this is all so sudden and foreign you can just tell he has a heart of gold and doesn’t wanna hurt you

Ofc your gramps throws a fit when you get home and he’s like wHY IS THIS GUY WITH YOU

After a long long talk things are settled and your gramps is like ok fine you can date her or whatever but one wrong move and your head is gonna be hanged here

“gRANDPA WE’RE NOT DATING (yet)!!!!”

“I’m just saying i got my eye on you boy”

You spend the rest of your break getting to really know Wonwoo and try to overlook his,,, alter ego thing,,,, as best as you can

You’re outside making snowmen and snow angels and just being so carefree about everything

You somehow end up in a snowball fight with wonwoo and he’s like ur going down!!11!!

You’re hiding behind a tree and peek out to find him but when all of a sudden someone ambushes you from behind

“I GOT YOU” he screams in your ear while you’re laughing and trying to wiggle out of his arms

You guys stumble and fall with him on top of you oHMYGOHDGHLGDS

Your laughter dies down a little and all you can think about is how close your faces are

He softly smiles at you and leans down to give you your firST KISS IM SCREAMING

“HEY KIDS WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING”

“gRANDPA STOP”

[toyfrog]

Spader' Portguese Interview: Planting a Massive Oak Tree and Breaking Away!

Oh, yes he is.

Without a Doubt: Spader isn’t happy. And it seems his own fanbase are out of touch with his true feelings on the subject of fame, and why he just wants a simple work schedule like he had in Season 1?

Is that too much to ask? Apparently so. And because he’s been forced to work all the time, it’s taking him away from his private life.

HES NOT HAPPY.

But those who follow me *know* this already.

James Spader stars in “The Blacklist” since 2013. It’s more of a dark character in his career, the ones he’s drawn to.

[I’VE MENTIONED THIS: WHENEVER A LEAD ACTOR BECOMES FRUSTRATED WITH STORY, OR IN SPADER’S CASE, ADD THE SHOOTING SCHEDULE, THEYRE GOING TO VENT. NOT IN THE STATES BECAUSE THEY ARE PROTESTING IN THEIR OWN WAY THEIR DISTRESS OVER THE CURRENT STORY DIRECTION. ILL EVEN ADD ON THAT THE INTERVIEWEES ARE HAND PICKED BY THE SAME SOFTBALL CREW WHO WILL WRITE JUST ABOUT ANYTHING TO HYPE A BAD SHOW OR INTERVIEW THE SAME ACTOR OVER AND OVER THE ACTOR WHO LOVES TO HEAR HIMSELF TALK, LIVES THE SPOTLIGHT, NILS IS A TERRIBLE DISEASE FOR ROOKIE ACTORS. THEY START BELIEVING THEIR OWN PRESS UNTILL THOSE RATINGS CRASH THEIR Q SCORE]

[SO WHILE AMIR ARISON, AND RE TWEET THEIR ‘LOYALTY’ BECAUSE THEY ARE GETTING THE MOTHERLODE OF AIRTIME AND STORY, OTHER ACTORS REMAIN SILENT AND FOR GOOD REASON. THE SHOW IS ALARMINGLY IMBALANCED.]

James Spader’s debut in the art of representation took place in the cinema in the early 1980s, but in the nearly four decades of his career, the actor stood out as a TV character in “gray” or completely dark. That was the unethical Alan Shore of Fair Cause and Boston Legal or the puzzling Robert California of The Office. But also from Raymond “Red” Reddington from The Blacklist, NBC series issued in Portugal by SIC. Dressing the skin to these villains is not an imposition, but Spader admits in an interview that DN had access that feels “a certain attraction” by them.

“I’ve always found anti-heroes very attractive and of course playing a villain who mixes his evil with humor and irreverence can be a lot of fun,” he explains. [HERES THE DISCONNECT: RED IS A VILLAIN-HIS FANS REFUSE TO SEE THAT. INSTEAD THEY FEEL RED IS THE LONG SUFFERING HERO HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH LIZ. YEA. THATS *NOT* WHATS GOING ON HERE AT ALL. IN THE END, “HE MUST PAY.” READ THE FARMER PARABLE AND YOU’LL KNOW THE ENDING. It DOES NOT MATTER WHAT GOOD RED DOES IN THE FIVE YEARS….IN THE END, “HE KNOWS IN HIS HEART THAT HE MUST PAY.”]

In fiction, he believes, tyranny represents “in many respects the extremes of society” and is a “kind of morbid curiosity” in knowing these extremes that impels it.

[DO WE SEE HOW SPADER AND KLATTENHOFF APPROACH THEIR INTERVIEWS? ALL ABOUT THE CRAFT NOT THE STORYLINE. NEVER ABOUT THE STORYLINE BECAUSE PROFESSIONALS LEAVE IT TO THE WRITERS. BUT IF RATINGS SINK BECAUSE OF THOSE CHOICES, THE ACTORS THROW SHADE IN A PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE WAY AND SPADER BROUGHT HIS OAK TREE]

The success of his “Red”, the man most wanted by the FBI - who gave himself on the condition of being released and in turn helping to catch criminals on a blacklist - is also due to “luck” On television had come “at a time when anti-heroes were not plentiful.” “Now there’s probably more, though I do not have time to watch TV. I’m too busy doing it,” stresses the interpreter. [HE DOESNT WATCH TV HE DOESNT WATCH BLACKLIST ITS WHY HES NOT ON TWITTER HE GOES SHOOTS HIS SCENES AND GOES HOME. HE DOES NOT HANG OUT WITH ACTORS OR STAFF HE IS LIKE MANY ACTORS WHO PREFER TO AVOID THE SPOTLIGHT EXCEPT WHEN THE DIRECTOR SHOUTS, “ACTION”]

In his house, he says, “there is not a single television yet.” “I’ll move in soon, who knows if there will not be?” Jokes Spader, 57. “I do not know if this is not a paradox … I spend so much time, so many hours, [NOTICE HE KEEPS BRINGING UP HIS SHOOTING SCHEDULE? TRY MEMORIZING HIS DIALOGUE THE WINTER FINALE SHOWCASED SPADER FOR 21 MINUTES. THATS EXCESSIVE. He’d prefer ten maybe 8. 21 MINUTES LEAVES NO ROOM FOR ANYONE ELSE. FANS MAY BE FINE WITH THAT BUT SPADER ISNT. THATS OVERTIME] so many days, weeks and months to live within the television fiction and within the television drama … [SPADER IS TIRED. SPADER WANTS WHAT HE WAS PROMISED IN SEASON 1.I dedicate so much of my life to television as when I do not I’m working, I do not want to waste time with her, "he explains. [Her AS IN HIS GF? I would assume?]

Incidentally, probably not watching the fiction on the small screen is that James Spader does not have a formed and "objective” opinion on the evolution of the industry. “I do not know if I understand the business, I know it’s changing, it’s getting more involved and growing, it’s expanding in a dizzying way, [AND HERE COMES THE OAK TREE TO PROVIDE ENOUGH SHADE TO REACH LOS ANGELES] but it’s very complicated to be aware of what happens if we spend a lot of time working, [WORKING SHOOTING, NO TIME WITH HIS GF OR FAMILY NO TVS IN THE HOUSE DOESNT WATCH THE SHOW NOT ABSORBED IN RED ITS NOT HIM AND HES TIRED OF THE CHAOS-MY BELIEF, THE BAD WRITING. USING HIM TO FIX THE WRITING. USING HIS CHARACTER TO CARRY THE SHOW AND THE IMBALANCE TO THE SHOW] Which is my case, "he explains.

Compared to other NBC hit series such as This Is Us, Chicago Fire, Chicago Justice, or Timeless, [ALL THESE SHOWS HAVE BETTER RATINGS THAN THE BLACKLIST. THATS HOW BAD THE SHOW IS. WHEN ACTOR DOESNT USE THE EXCUSES OH, THERES MORE SHOWS ON TV, WE HAVE A BAD TIME SLOT, THE LIve 7 PPL WATCH-YEAH NO HE MAKES ZERO EXCUSES BECAUSE HE KNOWS.

ITS THE STORY TIER. HE WANTS IT TO GO BACK TO THE WAY IT WAS WHERE HE HAD LESS OF A SHOOTING SCHEDULE. SO FOR THOSE THAT SCREAM MORE RED AND LIZ AH THATS NOT WHAT SPADER WANTS. HE WANTS LESS.] The Blacklist ranks 13th among the 18 issued by the North American station. But it was once one of the biggest audiences. [BUT IT WAS ONCE ONE OF THE BIGGEST AUDIENCES. RECALL SALKE SAYING THE BLACKLIST IS POPULAR OVERSEAS? RECALL ME SAYING WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE BAD WRITING SHOWS UP? When PRESS DO INTERVIEWS THEY GET TO VIEW THE SEASON EPISODES. THATS WHY THIS INTERVIEW HAS BLACKLIST ON ITS DEATHBED] The fourth season, currently on display in the US, debuted in September last year with 6397 million viewers. The most recent episodes were below five million. [A BLOW INDEED ALL BECAUSE OF TOM PIMPING, ARAM PIMPING, ELISE PIMPING ALEXANDER KIRK PIMPING, SARAM PIMPING KEEN2 PIMPING AND FINALLY PLOT DRIVEN STORY WITHOUT PIMPING THE THREE MAIN LEADS AS THE SMASH CREDITS INDICATE FOR A REASON: RED/LIZ/RESSLER. NO INTERACTION WITH THE MAIN LEADS REFLECTS THE RATINGS-THE WRITERS KNOW WHAT THEY DID THATS WHY THEY ARE SILENT AND SO DO THE ACTORS. CURRENT STORY DIRECTION SINCE 3B KILLED THE SHOW] A blow that has left the doubt in the air: will NBC cancel or renew the story? [TWO MILLION VIEWERS LOST AND COUNTING. EUROPE SENDING THE SIGNAL TO NBC AND THE SHOW:FIX IT]

Spader remains optimistic, and believes that what has so far kept this story on air "is a strange mix of things,” [HERE COMES THAT MASSIVE OAK TREE AGAIN JUST PLANT IT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WRITERS ROOM OR ON TOP OF EISENDRATH'S DESK] including the fact that screenwriters are in Los Angeles [OMG WRITERS YOU ARE OUT OF TOUCH WITH THE MECHANICS OF NEW YORK AND OF COURSE BY THE TIME NY GETS THE SCRIPTS EDITS HAPPEN ADJUSTMENTS HAPPEN REGULARLY] and recordings take place in New York. “We do not even live our lives at the same time … [HE HATES HIS SHOOTING SCHEDULE DID I MENTION THAT? IF LA IS WRITING AT FOUR PM SPADER AND GANG ARE FILMING AT 7 PM OR 9 pm, OR TEN PM OR SIX AM OR 8 AM TO ACCOMODATE LOS ANGELES AND TO ACCOMODATE A SPIN OFF] The series is strange, sometimes surprising [SOMETIMES SURPRISING IOW HELL GET A GOOD SCRIPT LIKE CAPE MAY OR IN S3 IN MARVIN GERARD BUT MOST OF THE TIME ITS STAGNANT, PREDICTABLE AND PLOT DRIVEN] and intense, sometimes irreverent, [OAK TREE] sometimes passive [PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE] and still volatile.” [IOW IF THEY DO A 180 STORY FLIP BACK TO ITS As DIEGO SAID REGARDING S3 A MAGICAL FORMULA, NOT PLOT DRIVEN BS THE SHOW CAN LAST. BUT HE DOESNT WAX POETIC NOR DOES HE SUGARCOAT THE HYPE AND HE BRINGS UP IRREVERENT SOMETIMES? Yeah look it up. HES NOT HAPPY. ]

On the direction he would like to see the plot follow, [MAN I LOVE THIS YES JAMES WHAT PLOTLINE DO YOU WISH FOR BOKENKAMP AND EISENDRATH TO FOLLOW IM GOING TO GUESS ITS NOT KEEN 2 ITS NOT THE BABY, ITS NOT THIS ISOLATION OF THE LEADS AND HE NEVER MENTIONS RED AND LIZ NOTICE THAT?] the actor only says that “the most satisfying is when there is an abrupt change.” [ABRUPT CHANGE OR AS WE SAY IN THE INDUSTRY A 180 STORY FLIP. End KEEN2, SHAKE THINGS UP GO BACK TO RED/LIZ/RESSLER ENOUGH OF ARAM HES HAD THREE STORYLINES IN ONE YEAR AND TOM HAS HAD THE MOST EXPOSURE THAN ANY ACTOR COMBINED AND WHAT DID THEY GET? LOSS OF ADVERTISING 0.7! KEEP IN MIND IF TBL DEBUTS AT 0.8 ITS TOAST. It needs 1.0 TO STAY IN CONTENTION] “I think we’ve already been successful in that aspect and it was precisely these heights I most liked The Blacklist.”

[OY SPADER IS NOT HAPPY. FANS ARE NOT HAPPY ADVERTISERS AND NETWORK ARE NOT HAPPY AND NOW WRITERS ARE SILENT. FOR SPADER, ITS JUST A PAYCHECK NOW. BETTING ON RE WAS STUPID. GO BACK TO ORIGINAL STORY DIRECTION LIKE I SAID-A 180 STORY FLIP…SEEMS THATS EXACTLY WHAT SPADER WANTS: ABRUPT CHANGE AND IF THEY DONT DO IT AND LEAVE IT LIKE IT IS I DONT THINK HE WILL RENEW HIS CONTRACT BUT CONTINUE TO PLANT THAT MASSIVE OAK TREE .]