#i actually wrote two small pieces on here ages ago (if you remember them you the real mvp) and they were like. fine ig

[princekirijo]

Honestly would love to try writing again but I don't think I would post it anywhere.

[cakesandfail]

Do you have any headcanons about how Vetinari ended up taking power?

Actually yes I do!

I wrote a fic about his first day in power that vaguely referenced this and while I don't have like, a fully fleshed out story, there are a few bits and pieces that I sort of bodged together from things in the books and what I personally find entertaining about him as a character:

There's a bit in Soul Music which says that there was a rat plague in Ankh-Morpork shortly before Vetinari came to power, and that his solution was "tax the rat farms". It's unclear in context whether this means he suggested it at the end of Snapcase's time in power or if it was one of the first things he did after he became Patrician. I've just gone ahead and assumed that the rat plague was the last straw for Snapcase and that actually having a good suggestion was one of the reasons Vetinari was in people's minds as a replacement

That then leads us to ask, well, what on earth was he doing there? He's been in power a fair while even by Guards Guards but chronologically must still only be in his early 40s by then, to have been in his late teens in the 30-years-ago bits of Night Watch (and he can't be older than that, because it's made fairly clear that he's in the Guild equivalent of secondary school at that time, and Vimes knows that the two of them are approximately the same age). Given his canonically hilariously long list of postgrad qualifications, he probably went straight from Assassins Guild grad school to the Oblong Office, more or less. Conclusion: he was the fucking INTERN. (or possibly working as a clerk, but calling him the intern is at least 500% funnier)

Given the running joke about him being this weird posh dude who doesn't seem like a threat until you remember where he was educated, I would imagine that his whole "ah capital jolly good here I go getting slang wrong again" bullshit started here. We know that among the Ankh-Morpork elite, pretending to be stupider than you really are is something that can both keep you safe and help you get away with a lot, because we see Vetinari and Vimes and Sybil do it. So this is where he got his practice. Bertie Wooster the FUCK out of your working day, quietly get on with the things that need to be done while nobody's looking, and nobody will realise because they just think you're Madam's weird nephew with the shit beard and the puppy

So, bearing all that in mind, picture this:

Snapcase is dead. The important people (at least, the people who think themselves important) converge on the palace. In a small room off the Oblong Office is a young man steadily working through a large pile of paperwork. Oh, yes, that's Madam's nephew, you know... Havelock, isn't it? They ask if he knows what's happened, and he says no, he has no idea, he's just been working his way through all these regulations, and gosh, they really are very dull. And... well... nobody else is here. And nobody else seems to understand the filing system, or the rest of the staff, or anything really. But he does.

This guy's had a few good ideas when he's been doing the minutes at various meetings, that makes him a plausible candidate surely? And he's so young, so he's going to need a lot of guidance from helpful, experienced folks, right? How useful. He's just smart enough not to be an obvious puppet. Very handy indeed.

And the cream of Ankh-Morpork society being what they are (truly the cream- rich and thick) they don't realise until it's far too late that this lanky goth weirdo they'd thought would do their bidding knows everything about everyone and he's been quietly furious about the result of the Glorious 25th for over a decade. And, whoops, they'd somehow forgotten that he didn't spend all of that time on Guild postgraduate courses doing resits. Oh dear. And now he's their boss.

[thetrevisostabber]

meetcute. aurora/ripley. 2.4k.

it was high time time i actually Wrote Out how these two met properly, because bone and i talked about it fucking forever ago at the start of the game and it's been referenced in-game a few times and i think they're cute. so here they are. in all their astoundingly stupid in love glory.

Olladra Smiles is an intimate venue. Showgoers had whispered about it with excitement, how rare it was to see such a prolific artist in such a small crowd, in a tavern, no less. Aurora's seen the violinist once before on a much larger stage in a tightly-pressed crowd that had given a standing ovation when their performance ended, greeted them briefly before they'd had to entertain the press; she's inclined to agree.

It's been her weekly indulgence for months now. There's something about the way the music rings through the air and the unrefined beauty of an improvised piece that keeps her coming back. And this performer—Ripley, she recalls, was the name in lights—has honed their craft to a science. Their masked face betrays nothing; the light, the environment, the cascading notes and atmospheric illusions—there's tenderness in every note. The nature of a performer is one that confounds Aurora. It demands both separation from and intimacy with the audience she can't fathom.

The Phiarlan performer winds the illusion around her mind so thoroughly she can almost feel the sea breeze whipping through her hair, the vaguely uncomfortable seat and smell of paper and smoke fading away with every pass of the bow on rosined strings. Each note rings cold on her skin. Soft light fills the space, brightening slowly in shades of orange and purple and rich green.

All of the colors fall away under the warmth of sudden brown as they make eye contact with her for a second. Just a second, a single spinning second in the spans of time that have passed over the ages of Eberron.

Right! Aurora thinks, watching Ripley spin on their orbit—is there a smile under the mask, or is that wishful thinking? I'm a lesbian. _

"That last one you performed. It's a beautiful piece. Did you write it?"

Ripley perks up at her voice, an ear twitching in her direction as they notice her stepping towards the stage doors.

"I did!" they say, putting a hand to their chest in what's clearly a very self-satisfied gesture. "It's new! And untitled. May I be so bold as to ask how it made you feel? I'm immune to my own illusions, you see. The audience's perspective means everything to a performer."

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a wordsmith." She steps forward when she doesn't at least outwardly detect them being too tired to deal with a fan; she loosens her tie a bit to show her dragonmark under her shirt collar. "I'm better with my hands."

Both of their pointed ears perk up. Their sudden rush almost takes Aurora by surprise; Ripley catches and spins the sudden burst of excitement into a tempered delivery, scooping their violin up from its case inside the stage door to press into her hands.

"Then what do you feel, holding this in those clever hands of yours?"

Aurora's heart pounds nearly out of her chest.

"Well," she stammers. She's not hiding how flustered they've made her very well, she knows, but she applies her eye and mark's magic to the violin anyway; it's intricately carved, enchanted with some of the illusion magic Aurora had detected back on the stage bursting into the crowd. "I'm not a musical expert but the craftsmanship... it's exquisite. With a mind like yours and an instrument like this there was attention paid to every note."

Ripley's ears are red when she looks back up.

"Something enchanting about it," Aurora adds as she hands it back over to them. Their hands brush on the exchange. Oh, Host. "I'm sorry, I don't think I've introduced myself and here I've seen your name in lights. Aurora d'Cannith. I've been indulging in your performances after work for a couple of weeks now."

"Yes, I remember you from the other night! Though I never caught a name. Wonderful that we've rectified the situation. Fostering interhouse relationships is so important, don't you think?"

The excuse to touch again is barely concealed and Ripley takes it with zest in a firm handshake. Their eyes are so warm behind the mask.

"It's been lovely to perform for you, Aurora," they continue. "Will you be attending tomorrow night's performance? Tonight was so quick and loose because technically you're not getting the full piece—the debut is taking place in the Wynarn Institute of Art at 6:30. I could comp your ticket, of course."

Aurora has at least two projects due at 6. "I'd love to, Lady Phiarlan. I can't wait to hear what it sounds like when you deem it complete."

"It's complete with a title!" They pluck the bow from the case, testing a note. "You always leave me feeling inspired."

A few measures of the illusion hum into existence around them both. Aurora tilts her head back to look up at it, suddenly rich with detail; clouds come down by the stage doors, sheets of cascading light wrapping around the two of them and twisting through their atmosphere.

"And the title?" Her smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

"Aurora," they reply. "I've seen it, once, on Farlnen. It took my breath away then. It must have been the inspiration that led me to write it all along."

And there they are again. Dazzling brown eyes cutting through the light show and through to Aurora's core, turning it to warmth.

"Are you busy after the show, Lady Phiarlan?"

"Who, me?" they ask, shimmying a little.

"Yes, you," she laughs. "You're comping my ticket to a debut performance of yours. Let me buy you dinner. Interhouse relationships, and all that."

"Oh, please. This kind of magic always leaves me hungry after." They tilt their face down a bit, angling their gaze. "Promise not to run away when I take the mask off?"

"Lady Phiarlan! I'm not that rude," she gasps—the rhythm of mock offense and exaggeration is easy with someone she only properly met minutes ago, somehow. "I may not be one of your stage tramps but I can be a decent person."

"That is a rare thing in the middle of a war, such as we are. Let me appreciate you for it."

In a conversation laden with unspoken meaning—was this how all the excoriates did it, she wonders, playing with fire, and then crosses the notion from her mind—Aurora is still a little nervous stepping closer into their personal bubble. Ripley's pupils dilate just a bit, ears twitching towards her again, every movement betraying fascination. She hopes. Dearly.

"In that case," she says softly, heart racing, "can I interest you in more privacy than a table for two for dinner tomorrow?"

It takes a moment to realize Ripley has taken her metal hand in their gloved one, bringing it to their mouth and leaving a streak of black lipstick against the metal.

"I'd be delighted. Just let me take you for breakfast in the morning."

_

Aurora waits until they've been in the hotel room about half an hour before letting the spell slip over her and following their path into the building. She's been in here a thousand times; this time her heart is pounding in her throat as she passes by numbered doors and through the hallway silence.

Ripley's song is still playing in her head with each step she takes. Their words swim over her—It's complete with a title!You always leave me feeling inspired.

She nearly walks right into one of the hotel staff—Ghallanda, she thinks, and almost panics before remembering she'd picked this hotel for its apparent lack of dragonmarked affiliations—and sputters a thousand apologies before continuing onward into the elevator. This time Aurora waits until the doors shut and leave her alone within to sit with her thoughts. The way their song had sounded last night—they had been beautiful in tonight's performance, the illusion refined and the song performed with bravado, but the intimacy of the one-on-one performance the night prior.

Though with how their eyes had locked the entire night, everyone else in the building could have left and she would never have noticed. Still warm, still steady, still bright in their collaborative mischievousness.

The doors opening knock her from the reverie, and she sets off down the hall with her heart beating in her throat. She'd seen the beginnings of a cast party taking place when she'd slipped the room key into their hand. Their smile was contagious every time she'd met them at the stage doors, but tonight there was something knowing that passed between the two, and the look in their eyes beneath that mask had only made her pulse race.

This kind of magic always leaves me hungry after, their memory teases in her ear.

Aurora nearly drops the key when she tries to slip into the room.

Curses fall from under her breath getting the door open. "Sorry," she says quietly once she's stepped in and dropped her disguise, turning and shutting the door behind herself the second she's over the threshold, "it took a little for the group by the front doorway to disperse and I thought coming in the side would have been—"

Hands around her waist interrupt her train of thought, and she follows their direction, spinning around until she's face-to-face with Ripley's gaze focused on her through the mask. She's never been this close to them before. It knocks all the explanations and words from her head.

"You're here," they say, voice smooth and cool. "That's what matters."

And then Ripley kisses her, and Aurora forgets anything she could have been thinking to grab them around their waist and pull them in so tight they breathe in tandem. Her back thumps against the doorframe and her hands move to tangle in their hair, messing up the calculated puff and curl; Ripley hums into her mouth, and she finds she likes the sound even more than anything they write.

"Dinner?" they ask against her jaw.

"Later," she says, hand inching below their belt. "I had something else I wanted to do first. May I—?"

Ripley's smiling when they kiss her neck. "The floor is yours, Lady Cannith."

The smile in return spreading across her face continues its course as she pushes them back by the chest into the room. She takes quick inventory—a queen bed, a table off in the corner, a dresser and a door likely leading to the bathroom—and continues to back them into the room until the back of their knees hit the bed and they go down with a look both dazed and wanting. Ripley's more disheveled than Aurora's ever seen them, black lipstick smeared, fine golden glitter falling like snow from their cheeks onto the fabric of their blouse.

Aurora clambers into their lap and wraps a gentle hand in the back of their hair, waiting for the nod before she tugs their hair back and kisses them again. Ripley keeps their hands back to prop themself up on the bed, but when they press forward for more she pulls back, a teasing smile taking over her face.

"Let me see you," she says. "Without this," she adds with a tap of her finger against the mask.

Their expression shifts, slightly, and Aurora kisses the corner of their mouth.

"I promised to be polite," she adds. The mask was always on whenever she'd seen them; she recalls their comment about not running and wonders who's been enough of an ingrate to leave them nervous. "I meant it. You can leave it on, if you want, jus—"

"No," they say. Something trembles through their spine delicately as they watch her lips unabashedly. "Do it."

Aurora reaches for the bow at the back of their head and tugs the tension from the ribbon until it falls slack in her fingers, gravity keeping the mask on their face; she waits a moment, treasuring how this feels right now, the moment of curiosity about this gorgeous person that is about to be sated, the wondering before the answer comes—and then lifts the mask free.

Ripley's eyes open slowly up at her. There's makeup here, too, bright peacock-green colors and bright blue swirls that are starting to mess a little from the sweat and spotlight and constant contact against the porcelain mask; Aurora's taken with their sweet, dark eyes again, warm brown peering up at her. But all the makeup in the world cannot hide their dragonmark. It almost ripples, alive, under their skin, the Mark of Shadow over their left eye.

"Oh," Aurora sighs. "Oh, Ripley, you're beautiful."

And just like that, she feels some of the tension in their shoulders fall away as they surge forward and kiss her.

_

"You didn't know my name until last night."

"No," Ripley says in a puff of smoke. They're curled up against her bare chest, turning their head just a bit to look at her with a cigarette carefully balanced in their fingers to keep from getting ash on the sheets—they keep moving like they're accounting for the mask until they remember themself. "I'm sorry. I would have asked before if—"

"No, no, not like that," she says. "I'm not accusing. I'm just... I'm curious, frankly."

They turn around and face her, stretching to put the cigarette on the night table. Aurora's hand intercepts theirs to take a drag; the handover is unspoken as she inhales deeply. "About what?"

Aurora coughs a bit around her answer, stretching for the ashtray; Ripley guides her hand to it. "I mean, do you always sleep with people you've just met?"

"Not typically," they say. "My encounters tend to be more... premeditated. You're a first in multiple regards."

"In what ways?"

"Not so premeditated . And not a cis man," Ripley says. "Is that okay?"

Aurora cups their jaw in her palm, even if she's suddenly thinking of how much more slowly she'd have gone if she knew. "Of course it is. I'm not judging you, I swear. It just makes me even more curious why your random lesbian and or bisexual encounter was with me."

Ripley watches her with an expression she can't name, for a moment. "You spoke to me like a person. Most people who find me, they're talking to the stories." They lean their head into her hand. "I'm not... seen very often."

"There's an engineer behind every creation. More people ought to be looking."

Their smile is gentle, this time. "Yeah, I bet you wanna engineer my. Hm. Creation."

"Baby, I'll get into your Creation Forge," she replies, dropping her voice a couple octaves, and Ripley laughs with delight, voice quiet enough not to get caught.

"Dinner?" they ask.

"Sure," she says, kissing their forehead.

[httpdabi]

My pet

Genre: romance, smut, normal AU with no quirks, university!reader x professor! Dabi,

Summary: Maybe skipping his class wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, the detention could wait for some other time, not like you weren’t getting sick of it anyway.

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: 18+, praise kink, bit of fingering in public place, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

Taking a deep breath you tried to calm yourself down a little. From all the papers, you had to lose the one from Professors Aizawa’s classes, which was pretty important. And the fact that he had a pretty big dislike of you didn’t help either, since you were sure that he will nag about it a whole moth or give you little to no time to write it again.

Rolling your eyes, you collected all the papers on the floor, putting them in one box, accepted the fact that your paper is nowhere to be found. With a big sigh you stood up and poured the hot coffee in your cup to go, before you took your bag from the floor and left your apartment.

You weren’t in the mood for Uni today, but at least you had only few classes, which meant you won’t spend much time there.

You checked your phone one last time, before you locked the door and hurried downstairs to catch your bus. Using the app, you always checked when will the bus arrive, giving yourself 5 minutes to catch it. This time you went out a bit earlier, since Aizawa’s class was the first one. After all you didn’t have the paper done, you couldn’t afford yourself more shit with being late.

,,Fuck’’ you hissed when you saw the bus already on the bus stop. You were about to run, but once you noticed all the people squished in it, you couldn’t force yourself to do it. After all, you were never sporty, every time you had to run to catch the bus, he would simply speed off and leave you half dead on the bus stop. Yeah, you had a condition of a dead horse.

,,I’ll be a bit late’’

you texted your best friend Mina as you sat on the small waiting bench. The next bus will arrive in 8 Minutes, which was enough time for you to smoke one. Upset about everything, you smoked your cigarette almost aggressively, puffing on it like it was your last one.

You don’t run. There is always a possibility that you will die if you run. So, it’s better if you come a bit late, then not at all. You thought to yourself.

Some people don’t come to the classes at all and no one gives a shit, yet you are worried about some stupid paper and being late.

When the bus arrived, you turned the cigarette off and got inside, finding yourself an empty seat as you hopped into it. Momo texted you that Aizawa is not even there and that maybe there’s a chance you’ll arrive before him.

Of course there’s no chance you’ll be able to do it, since the bus driver took his time driving. You were sure they had something against you. When you are trying to catch a bus, they suddenly turn into Formula 1 drivers as they speed off, but when you are inside of the bus, they follow every possible rule and drive so slow.

The moment you arrived, you walked pretty fast surprisingly, every second step you took, you tried to force yourself to run. You tried to push yourself between the students that had their best time in the fucking hallway of the Uni. Most of them giving you a weird looks as you started to run for the first time, upstairs.

Opening the door of the huge class, you stood there confused. The man standing there wasn’t Aizawa, so you looked around to check if the classroom was the correct one. It was. Scanning the room, you saw Momo in the last row giggling at you. Giving the man one last look, you made your way to your best friend.

,, You didn’t check your messages, did you?’’ She whispered quietly, as you hopped between her and Mina. Shaking your head you took out your notebook and placed it on the table, while Momo explained to you what’s going on.

So, Aizawa had some problems which forced him to be absent for the next 6 months, making his assistant Touya Todoroki take over his classes.

The three of you chit chatted quietly, as your new so called Professor was calling out your names to mark the list. Like in high school, you thought to your self as you put your hand up when your last name was called. Professor Aizawa never did that, one look was enough for him to notice who is absent and who’s not.

Everyone knew Touya Todoroki. He was around your age, and that made students a little bit more comfortable around him. You heard that he finished Uni one or two years ago, being one of the top students. Being that smart, and Aizawa’s one of favorites, they gave him the chance to work there as his assistant.

In your opinion, joking around with the students wasn’t really smart of him, since there’s always a possibility that they won’t take him seriously later on. But hey, maybe you were wrong.

Once the introduction was done, and he said enough about himself and all the plans Aizawa had for the next 6 months, he said that he’ll call your names out in alphabetical order, for you to give him your paper and sign the list he prepared for it.

You felt a bit uneasy when you realized that till now, all of them had their work finished and the possibility that you’re the only one that didn’t have it made your stomach twist.

When your name was called out, you thought about some lies you could tell him, none of them good enough.

,,I’ve lost it’’ you breathed out as you clapped your hands and slowly nodded your head. He gave you the ‘’are you serious’’ look as you stood there embarrassed a bit.

,,Is that even possible ?’’ he asked as he raised his brow at you, eying you out while you played with your fingers nervously.

,, Obviously, it is’’ you said, crossing your arms on your chest. What kind of question is that even? People come here and lie about their test being eaten by their pets, yet your honest and sad excuse was suspicious to him.

,, When is the next date ?’’ you added, hoping he’ll give you enough time to write it again.

,,Tomorrow’’ he said, not even looking at you.

,, WHAT ?’’ a scream escaped your lips, loud enough for everyone in the class to hear and look at you. Is this dude insane ? Even tho Aizawa didn’t like you, he would still give you maybe a week to finish it.

,,Take it or leave it’’ he said, with a small smile formed on his lips, like he didn’t just tell you to do something impossible. Rolling your eyes shamelessly, you turned around and made your way toward your seat, where Momo and Mina waited excitedly to ask you what happened and so on.

The moment your last class finished, you had to cancel all of your plans, making your way home immediately after it. That day, you couldn’t even afford yourself to make a lunch or dinner, since every second and minute counted. The only food for you was coffee and cigarettes that day.

The good thing was, that you remembered lots of things you already wrote, but sadly, the paper wasn’t really small, forcing you to write and write without taking even a small break.

You hoped that you’ll finish it till 11PM, since your first class started early in the morning, at 7 AM. Sadly your big hope sank like Titanic when you checked what time it was when you almost finished your paper.

It was fucking 3:37 AM.

That disgusting motherfucker, you thoguht to yourself, as you imagined how great it would feel if you had the possibility to break his fucking tattooed neck.

The moment you heard the alarm, you wished you were dead. If someone placed a gun on your forehead at that moment, you would probably beg him to shoot you. Taking more time then usual, you found yourself being late again. This time you didn’t give a single shit about it. You didn’t give a shit about looking like half dead bird, with your hair tied up in way too messy bun and dark circles under your eyes.

Stomping into the classroom, you didn’t bother to look or greet anyone, forcing yourself to sit in the first row, since more students remembered that they actually go to Uni and suddenly decided that today is the best day to show up. Mina and Momo didn’t sit close to each other or to you either, since the class was unusually much fuller.

Grabbing your phone out of your pocked, once it started to vibrate, you saw that Mina and Momo were writing shit in your little group chat.

,, Are we having this piece of shit all day?’’

you texted, ignoring the topic they were writing about.

,, Yeah, we’ll have one and half hour break in between, and then him again. I don’t mind it tho. Dude’s handsome as fuck’’

Mina replied, making you roll your eyes.

,, Handsome as fuck my ass. Bro looks like random junkie from the main train station’’

you tapped furiously sending the message, scrolling down your Instagram feed, not even bothering to look at him, when he called your name out when he checked the absence list.

,,No phone in my class’’ he said loud enough, when he noticed it. Ignoring his statement, you just continued to use your phone. It’s not his problem if you are using your phone, it’s not his fucking problem if you decide not to follow his class and fail it at the end. Sure, if you were interrupting the class, then it would make some sense. But since you didn’t interrupt him or anyone, it shouldn’t bother him at all.

In one moment, you had your phone in your hands, the next one it was snatched from your hands. Looking up, you saw him standing in front of the desk you sat in, with your phone in his hands, scanning the room if anyone else was using it too. Both Mina and Momo hid their phones fast, when they realized what just happened.

He stood there quietly as he did something on your phone. The only thing you could see was his thumb scrolling something on your phone up. Whatever it was, he had no fucking right to do it and it made your blood boil.

,, There is something called privacy, you sick fuck’’ you hissed loudly. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that you had less then one day to finish your paper, but you couldn’t stop yourself from insulting him. The moment you spat those words, you felt his eyes on yours. You noticed a small smirk formed on his lips as he turned your phone off.

,, You just got yourself in detention Miss.’’ He said, as he placed his phone on his desk ignoring your complains.

At that point you weren’t sure if he got all the dislike on you from Aizawa, or if you had that kind of personality that made people easily dislike you. Sure, maybe you overacted and embarrassed yourself in front of the whole class, but in your defense, he didn’t have the right to do it. None of the students were children. All of you had the right to decide on your own if you will pay attention to the class or not.

When the first class was done, Mina and Momo came to you immediately, eyes wide in shock as they talked about what just happened. The two of them waited for you beside the door, as you took your finished paper and made your way toward his desk.

He pushed your phone from the end of the desk toward your direction, as he told your friends that there’s no need to wait for you. Confused, they left immediately, not wanting to pull themselves into troubler or give you more of it.

,, Sit down’’ he said, as you stood there confused as well, gripping tightly onto your paper. Being a bit lost, you didn’t follow him immediately, standing there totally lost.

,, Sit the fuck down’’ he repeated, this time a little louder. You sat there, eyes wide open in shock. Sure, he started off as someone that looked like all of your classes would be fun with him, but with todays actions, and the small amount of time he gave you, definitely changed the view of him to the rest of the students. To you even more, since his sudden behavior wasn’t really pleasing.

,, Paper’’ he simply said, as he tapped with his hand on his desk. You gave it to him immediately, not sure if you are allowed to leave or not, also unsure if you can take your phone or not anymore.

,,Good, now go clean the desks or whatever’’ he said as he took your paper, scanning it a little bit.

,, You gotta be kidding me’’ you laughed. This dude has some serious issues, you thought to yourself. ,, We ain’t in fucking high school’’ you hissed. You were about to grab your phone, but his hand stopped you, as he grabbed your wrist with his left hand.

Without saying another word, he just shook his head towards the direction where the small bucket was. Usually prepared for the Cleaning lady that does her job once the class is over.

You wanted to make even more drama, and curse him out instead of apologizing for interrupting his class, but at that moment you didn’t have the balls for it. First of all, because you were pretty sure he was in contact with Prof. Aizawa all the time, and second, it was already clear enough that he dislikes you more then Aizawa does.

You took a deep breath, as you prepared the water. Hoping he will let you go soon, since everyone else is already on the break and if you were being honest, you were getting pretty hungry.

The whole time, he just ignored you as he was correcting your paper. He already corrected the paper the rest of the class turned in, so he wanted you to have your note too. Aizawa told him about you, never paying attention to the class and appearing just to avoid the shit you could get for missing the classes. He heard enough about all of you, and he wanted to make sure none of you will misunderstand him just because of his young age. Starting of with you, and giving one good example to everyone else. Sure, it wasn’t very nice of him to give you less then one day to finish your paper, but only you were the one without it, and he didn’t want to wait too long for it and make you lose the little focus you had on the rest of the class. He was pretty sure you would mostly focus on the paper you had to write, ignoring the other stuff he prepared.

You took your time cleaning the desks, humming some song that was in your head last few days. When you finished your task, you made your way toward his desk. Sitting down to the desk in front of his own, you wanted to ask him if you may leave or take your phone, but somehow it felt too weird to do it.

,, Spit it out’’ he said, his eyes focused on the paper you gave him. Of course he noticed the little uncomfortable glances you gave him, and the way you played with your fingers. Something about it gave him the feeling of power, in some weird twisted way.

,, Can I go ?’’ you asked fast.

,,No’’ he replied as fast as you asked, like he was prepared for you to ask him that, making you whine loudly. You were pretty sure if it was Prof. Aizawa instead of him, you wouldn’t even dare to react that way.

,, Text your friends to bring you something to eat. You ain’t having the break today’’ he said, still correcting the paper. With a huge sigh you took your phone and turned it on. Messages popping up one after other. Mina and Momo cursing him out, sharing their location with you and simply being worried a bit. You told them about the break thing and asked them to bring you some snack, as you complained how he’s actually torturing you.

His coughing took your attention, making you place your phone on the table as you watched him stretch his arms out, as he placed your paper in front of you. Your eyes widened when you saw a huge D and 52% written on your paper. Some students would just be happy they passed, but not you. The worst grade you ever got in last two years was C, and yet you almost failed this fucking paper, only few percent’s saving your ass.

,, The beginning was alright. You missed lots of points. In the middle, some stuff you wrote didn’t make sense at all.’’ He sighed as he rubbed his right eye a bit before he continued telling you what you fucked up.

,, The end was terrible, from all the facts you wrote, to your grammar. It was painful to read ’’ He added, as he played with the pen in his hands.

,, Not sure what you expected from me when you gave me less then 24 hours to finish this shit.’’ You spat, anger taking over you again. At this point you found yourself missing Aizawa, and first time you felt unsure if you will be able to pass this class.

,,Is this detention done now? Can I leave now ?’’ you asked, wanting this shit finally to be over, ignoring his words from before that you won’t have a break today. At your surprise he just laughed you out, pissing you off even more if it was possible at all.

,, This ain’t your detention sweetie’’ he laughed, as he took his phone out of his pocket. Telling you how you will have to stay every day after classes for 1 to 2 hours to help him prepare his stuff for next classes. For the next four weeks.

You weren’t sure if he was joking around or not. You knew that some students had to do it, for example, Mina had to do it for a whole week, since she pissed off your Professor Shigaraki, always being late to his classes last year.

The next day, you ignored what he told you, as you made your way toward the exit when the class was done, only to be stopped as he called your last name out. That was enough for you to understand that he wasn’t joking around, and that the next four weeks you will have to give up 1 to 2 hours of your precious time.

At the beginning all you had to do was print the papers he prepared for the classes, and grab some stuff he needed while he was writing something down, or correcting some shit. You found yourself regretting the decision to go to that fucking uni. Usually professors don’t give a damn if a student pays attention to the class, if he passes or fail. They are here to teach, not discipline and if you feel like failing, that’s your issue. Well, not in this case. You felt like they enjoyed torturing y’all just for their own satisfaction.

Later on he would command you in the middle of the class to grab something out the office, since you already spent few hours in it, knowing where his stuff is. You also got yourself a new nickname in class, which was ‘’Todoroki’s pet’’.

,, Chill out, you only have 3 more weeks’’ Mina said as she took a bite of her sandwich, saying how she knows how you feel.

,, Bitch, no one called you Shigaraki’s pet. This is embarrassing’’ you whined, taking a sip of your coffee. The two of you decided to ditch the rest of the classes, since it was his one anyway. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to anyone’s shit today, since she had one sleepless night, and you weren’t in mood to stay 2 extra hours.

Both of you spent some time in the café, gossiping about some people form your class and making plans for tonight. Since it was Friday, both of you wanted to enjoy your time a bit, instead of spending the night home being lazy as fuck. Mina told you that Keigo invited the three of you to his little house party that he made every now and then. Every time his parents would go somewhere because of work, he would throw a party that made him so famous among other students.

He knew you, Mina and Momo from the high school and he always got along with all three of you. Sometimes even tagging along with the three of you to grab a coffee, nagging about his affairs and so on.

Mina didn’t go home, since you invited her to come over to your place. Both of you getting a good ass nap before you got ready for the party. She wore some of your fancy clothes and you wore a simple white shirt, and your pastel purple strap dress over it, that hugged your curves perfectly. The two of you did your make up before you wore your black Martens boots and made your way to the party.

Momo was already waiting at the party for you, drinking her beer with Keigo. She placed her drink on the counter when she saw the two of you get in. There were already some people you knew, but you knew that in the matter of time the house will be full as fuck.

,, You two sick fucks, why did you leave me all alone today’’ she laughed out as she took one sip of her beer.

,, No one’s in the mood to talk about that fucktard and his annoying ass classes here.’’ You said loudly, as you made a drink for yourself, mixing Malibu with some cherry juice as Keigo asked the three of you what happened.

,, Professor fucking Todoroki is torturing the shit out of me.’’ You said as you placed a cigarette between your lips. ,, I never thought I’ll say this, but I really miss Aizawa’’ you said in one breath making your friends laugh at your sudden confession.

,, Ah, I heard about your new nickname tho’’ Keigo said with a huge grin on his face, making you roll your eyes. ,, What is it again?’’ he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You were about to tell him to shut the fuck up and drop this topic already, but a arm placed around your shoulders threw you out of the tact.

,, They call her My pet’’ a familiar voice said, making you almost choke on your drink. Momo’s eyes were looking at you in shock, and Mina tried to make herself unnoticed, since she skipped his classes with you today.

,, Bro, I heard that you are giving her some hard time. What did you do to my girl?’’ Keigo laughed loudly, as he greeted his ‘’friend’’. You sat there frozen, totally forgetting that you have a cigarette in your hand, that was now half way done. You weren’t sure how much he heard.

,, Nothing she didn’t deserve.’’ Your prof. answered, laughing together with Keigo. You forget that he was around your age, and that it shouldn’t be such a big deal to see him at party’s like this. After all, everyone enjoyed his company. You, Mina and Momo exchanged one look that told more then any word could. All of you grabbing your drink, before leaving the two of them in the kitchen.

,,What the fuck is he doing here ?’’ you spat out, not giving a shit if he will hear you or not.

,, I have no idea. This was so embarrassing’’ Mina said, laughing loudly as she drowned her drink down, grabbing another one immediately.

,, Why ?’’ Momo asked confused, making you ask yourself how much she drank already.

,,Girl, the fuck are you even asking ?’’ Mina asked her, still giggling around. ,, Usually people get smarter in Uni, what happened with you? ‘’ she added wrapping her arm around Momo’s shoulders.

,, Downgrade’’ you said, making your friends laugh, as Momo hit your arm lightly.

Keigo was playing the music, his phone connected to the large loudspeakers. At the beginning you hated his taste of music, but later on you simply got used to it and at some point you started liking the songs he would play.

The three of you were fooling around, chitchatting with some people you knew from Uni. Once you heard that Anxiety from Blackbear started playing, you made your way toward the kitchen where Keigo was. The moment he saw you he started making some silly dance moves, as you immediately started to hop around and copy his moves. The first time he showed you this song, you literally hated it so much, only later on to learn every word as it became the song of you two.

He started singing as you prepared another drink for yourself, waving your left arm in the air like Keigo did, following the beat of the song. At that point, you didn’t give a fuck about the presence of your Prof, since it looked like he didn’t really want to bother you either.

,, Having fun?’’ Keigo asked, as he placed his glass in front of your lips, forcing you to drink every drop of his drink.

,, Disgusting’’ you hissed, making a face. He laughed at your silly face and reaction as he pat your head. Taking a sip of your sweet drink, trying to cover up the Whisky he just gave you.

,, Touya, your detention ain’t shit. She still doesn’t have any manners’’ Keigo joked, as he shook his head a little.

,, I’m working on it’’ He answered, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

,, Oh shut the fuck up, both of you’’ you blurted, trying not to give them much reaction, since you were pretty sure they were just provoking you at this point. The two of them only laughed at your reaction, finding it cute.

Hopping of the long chair, you pulled your dress down, and made your way to find your friends. The house was full at this point. Greeting every third person, you tried to find either Mina or Momo, only to give up at the end.

Not wanting to go back in the kitchen, you made your way upstairs where the guest room was. Keigo and Todoroki noticed you going upstairs as Keigo tired to call your name out, only to end up being ignored since you didn’t hear shit.

You hopped onto the bed, your feet still on the floor, since you were too lazy to take off your boots. You placed the small ashtray on the bed, and lit your cigarette as you watched the people in the small hallway dance around and have fun.

Taking your phone out of the small pocket of your dress, you sent a message to the group chat, asking your friends where they are and telling them that you are in the guest room. Dropping your phone to the side, you enjoyed your cigarette, and the muffed sounds of the music. Looking at the ceiling, you waited for your friends to reply or come finally, since you wanted to drink and have some more fun.

The moment you heard the door close, your body twitched up.

,, What do you want now ? ‘’ you hissed when you saw Todoroki making his way to sit next to you. Instead of answering you, he just sat beside you, taking the small box of cigarettes and lighting one with your lighter.

You did the same thing, trying to cover the fact that you indeed felt a little bit uncomfortable. You laid down again, ignoring his presence as you puffed on your cigarette. You could feel his stare on you, as you tried to pull your dress down a little, scared it showed more then is should.

He laid down next to you, placing the ashtray to the side. In that moment you wished you were drunk, since the whole situation was freaking you out a little.

,, Chill out doll, we ain’t at Uni.’’ He said, placing his hands under his head, answering your question only now.

He looked a bit different then usual. Wearing simple black shirt with jeans, and Nike airforce. It looked good, but it kinda felt weird since the only outfit you saw him in was the formal one, in the uni.

You tried to move to the side a little, since he was a bit too close. Placing the ashtray on the nightstand, you took it as excuse to move a bit form him. Sure, he was handsome as fuck, sure you wouldn’t mind him that close, laying down beside you, if he wasn’t your fucking professor for the next six fucking months.

He noticed you wiggling to the side. How could he not notice that, as your dress got a bit up without you even realizing it, giving him view of more skin. He’s not stupid, he knew he made you uncomfortable, but he liked it. He liked the way when some of your friends called you by your new nickname. He loved the fact that he marked you his, without trying at all.

The moment you stood up, realizing that your dress is showing more then you intended to, grabbing the edges of it and pulling it down while whispering small apologies, his dick twitched inside of his pants. He placed one more cigarette between his lips, as he grabbed your wrist, forcing you to sit on his lap and not giving a single fuck if you could feel his erection.

,, What’s wrong doll?’’ he asked once you gasped in surprise. He loved how you didn’t dare to complain or even say anything. But was there even something to say? Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t find yourself to form a normal sentence anymore.

,, You heard what Keigo said. ‘’ he whispered, as he inhaled the smoke of his cigarette. ,, That my detention ain’t shit’’ he added, his finger on your jaw now, making you look at him.

,,What should I do’’ he wondered out loud, turned on only by the confused look on your face. You weren’t sure if he already noticed, but all he did at that moment turned you on. His grip around your jaw got stronger, forcing you to open your mouth lightly, as his lips got closer to yours only to exhale the smoke in your mouth.

,, You know, I have to punish my pet for being absent today’’ he said, his face only inches away from your own. ,, Sure, I thought you were sick at first. But look at you, healthy as fuck’’ he said, his other hand squeezing your ass tightly as he pulled you closer to his body. The position you were in was embarrassing for you, and you were pretty sure if someone walked in, you would be labeled as Todoroki’s pet forever.

He placed you onto the bed, slowly standing up to turn off his cigarette. You weren’t even sure what was happening anymore. You just sat there on the bed, as he locked the door before he made his way back to you. Standing in front of you, looking down on you, he couldn’t hide the smirk that appeared on his face.

Pushing you back lightly, your upper body fell onto the mattress giving him a perfect view of you, before he hovered over your body. He wanted to fuck your brains out, he wanted to hear you scream his name all over again as he fucked you into the mattress, but he had to risk it all with a question. Since you were giving him mixed signals, he had to be sure you wanted this as much as he did.

,, You sure about this ?’’ he breathed out, hoping you won’t turn into a fucking brat again and storm out of the room, or make any other unnecessary scene.

,,Yes’’ you managed to nod your head. Sure, the risk for you was huge, but what could even happen anymore ? You were already labeled as his pet, because of the stupid detention.

,, Good. Fucking. Girl’’ he said pointing every word out, as he placed soft kisses all over your neck, leaving sloppy purple marks shamelessly. Your breathing got a bit heavier hearing these three words coming out of his mouth.

He didn’t have time for foreplay, first of all, because he wanted to be inside of you, second, because the risk of people noticing was too big. Sure, he was around your age, but at the end he would probably lose his job.

,, Someone’s calling you’’ he said, still abusing your neck. Ignoring the phone and his words, you just enjoyed the feeling of his lips on your neck, wanting more.

,,Pick it up doll’’ commending, he pulled your panties to the side, as he touched your clit, groaning loudly when he felt how wet you already are. The thought of fucking you while you were talking to your friends got in his mind, and he couldn’t ignore it at all.

,, Yes?’’ you asked, sounding whiny more then you should, while he played with your pussy.

,, Bitch, the door is locked’’ you heard Mina on the other line, eyes wide in shock. You tried to pull yourself up, but his hand stopped you as he pushed you back into the mattress.

,, I’m.. I’m not.. ahh shit ‘’ You almost moaned when the sudden feeling of pleasure and pain took over you, as he entered you without a warning. Throwing your head back, you tried to talk, you tried to think of something, anything, to tell to your friend.

Touya closed his eyes, enjoying how your walls felt around his dick. Your pussy felt like it was made just for him. And it felt even better once he heard you fight the moan, while you tried to talk to your friend.

,, Keep being good for me’’ he groaned quietly, as his hips started to move at rapidly speed.

,,Are you with someone?’’ Mina screamed, as you closed your eyes, feeling every inch of his dick moving in and out of your core. All you wanted to do was throw the fucking phone away, and enjoy what he was giving you.

,, Y-yeah, friend’’ you said, trying to hold the moans, as he fucked you hard. Mina hang up after she told you that they will wait for you in the kitchen with Keigo. The moment the call ended, you threw your phone on the bed, placing your hands on his shoulders, finding some comfort in it. You were sure that people could hear the bed slamming onto the walls, maybe even your moans that he muffed with his hand.

,, You feel so good, doll’’ he groaned, every move he made was getting stronger and faster, turning you into a whiny mess under him. You placed your lips on his neck, sucking and biting on it as you tried to keep your moans low. You felt a bit proud of the marks you left on his neck. If you were marked his, then that was the last thing you could do to mark him too. Even if it was a bit.

,, Touya, please’’ you cried when he slowed down. Snuggling your face into his neck, you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down from the pleasure he was giving you. The slow moves were too painful for you, they made you feel every inch of his dick moving inside.

He moaned loudly when he heard his name slip out of your mouth. He wanted to hear more of it, he wanted to hear you beg for him while you say his name all over again.

,, You look so good when you want it’’ he said, tugging your hair back into the mattress, giving himself more access of your neck that was already marked by him, but of course that wasn’t enough.

,, Be my good girl and beg for it’’ he said, not moving at all. He wanted to destroy you, but at that moment he simply had to hear you beg for him.

,,Please Touya, I’ll be good. Please’’ you begged again, and that was more then enough for him.

,, That’s my good girl’’ he whispered, kissing your lips as he started to move his hips again. He was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, enjoying the way you were whimpering under him as you wrapped your legs around him, trying to get him closer to you.

,,So close’’ you mumbled somehow, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt his fingers rub against your clit. Only few rubs were enough for you to catch your high, biting onto his shoulder as you came all over his dick.

,, Such a good girl’’ Touya said as his speed increased, shortly after it, he comes deep inside you, groaning into your neck, as your fingers found their way to his hair. You closed your eyes, feeling his seemen filling your pussy up. He continued to fuck you as he was riding out his orgasm, slowly fucking his cum back into your core.

The two of you took some time to catch your breaths. His dick still buried deep inside you. The moment he pulled it out, you whined loudly at the feeling of emptiness. Placing one more kiss on your lips, Touya pulled your panties down, cleaning the cum that was leaking out of you with them.

,, You gotta be kidding me’’ you gasped when you realized what he did, only getting a smirk as a response.

Once he was sure that you were clean now, he pushed your panties deep inside of his pocket, giving himself a little present that would remind him of you, before he commanded you to unlock your phone, so he could save his number in it. Immediately calling his own number.

,, Don’t ever think of skipping my class again for the next six months” he hissed, as he grabbed your jaw, forcing you into kiss. All you could do was nod in agreement, promising that you’ll attend his classes.

He gave you one more kiss, before he left. Telling you to wait a bit, before you follow him, to make it less suspicious. Laying down on bad, all fucked out, you smoked one cigarette as you sent a message to Mina and Momo, telling them that you’ll be there in few minutes, and asking them to make you a drink.

Once the cigarette was done, you found yourself going downstairs, noticing that Touya was already with Keigo, talking about something. The moment you stepped into the kitchen, Mina and Momo started laughing loudly.

,,Oh, I see what’s going on’’ Mina gasped figuring out what just happened. She wasn’t dumb. Maybe others didn’t realized, but your overly marked neck, and the few hickeys around his neck made your friends understand what happened. Not like Keigo didn’t already know, he was the first one to support his friend, making him follow you into the guest room.

The next days, you found yourself waiting excitedly for your detention. Enjoying the time you were spending with him. Enjoying the risky sex the two of you had in the class room, in his office or in the toilet of the University.

Touya didn’t test your limits anymore, he knew that you were ready to do anything for him, he knew that he had you under his spell. But as much as he had you, you had him. He found himself spoiling the shit out of you, driving you home, coming to your apartment almost every evening and buying you little presents you never asked for.

You loved how he couldn’t keep his hands off you, not even in front of the class, ready to risk it all for you. Ordering you to work on some of his papers, while everyone else was chit-chatting or simply playing on their phones when the lesion was done. He wanted to let them all go, so he could fuck you there on the desk, but since it was too early, he just told them to do whatsoever, as you sat beside him, focused on your work.

The small gasp that came out of your mouth, once you felt his hand on your tight, squeezing it tightly, turned him on even more. You don’t wear skirt when you are having classes everyday, he had to grab that chance he had served in front of him.

,, Not here’’ you whispered, trying to look like nothing’s happening at all.

,,Yes here’’ he answered quietly, as he acted it out like he was explaining something to you, slipping one finger into your core.

The way he pumped his finger in and out of you, acting like he ain’t doing shit was driving you crazy. Also the fact that anyone that payed a little bit more attention to you, could probably realize what was going on, didn’t help either. The adrenaline was rushing in your blood, as you squeezed your tights together, trying to tell him that he’s hitting the right spot.

That day he finger fucked you in front of everyone, making sure no one noticed. Even tho no one gave two shits about the two of you, every person in their own worlds, you felt like all eyes were on you. You felt like everyone knew what was going on, as your head hang low, hair covering your face enough for you to squeeze your eyes shut as you came all over his fingers.

Once you found yourself breathing normally, you took your phone, opening the message that Mina sent you.

,, Girl, you can’t be serious’’

The two of you made eye contact, laughing loudly. Well, someone in fact noticed, thankfully no one dangerous.

[taeescript]

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?). 

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive. 

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something. 

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down. 

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say). 

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?” 

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects. 

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made. 

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.  

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.  

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”  

                                                            - Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.  

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter two rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

Moving and finding an apartment can be an incredibly long and stressful process. Unless you’re you, and life likes to throw a lot of curve balls at you for the utter hell of it.

Your dad dropped dead three weeks after you told Andy you were moving to New York. Coincidentally, right in the middle of you trying to find a place to live. He drank himself to death. Figures. You doubted you’d ever had a conversation with him that he was sober enough to remember. His untimely demise was unfortunate for him, because he died or whatever, but very fortunate for you. As his only child, you got his apartment in Queens and all his smelly hoodies.

You said your goodbyes to Andy and Dani after a night out in the streets of San Francisco. You had originally moved there after high school to start your show, The L/n Report. San Francisco was known for its crimes against the homeless population and you wanted to start with a story on that. You ended up interviewing Andy at the police station while investigating a missing person, and dated him for two years. Now, you were spending your last few hours in San Francisco with the very boy you once loved and the very girl he now did.

“Are you all packed?” Dani asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Pretty much. I gotta put my toothbrush and hairbrush in my suitcase in the morning. Other than that, I’m good to go.” You answered her. She smiled fondly at you as she linked her arm through yours.

“Hey, I’m really gonna miss you. More than that guy over there.” You whispered, nodding towards Andy, who had his head buried in his phone. Dani laughed and nodded in agreement as you continued to walk.

“I’m going to miss you too. You’re my best friend here.” She sighed sadly.

“I’m glad we’re friends. Most women in our position would hate each other.” You thought out loud.

“Uh uh. You’re thinking of women in films. It’s 2021, baby. Women support women. You and I are two talented, smart, beautiful women who would never be caught fighting over some boy. Especially not one who can’t take his eyes off his phone for two seconds.” Dani said loudly and smacked Andy’s arm. You laughed at the domestic moment but couldn’t help feeling a pain in your heart knowing he used to be that way with you.

“What, sorry?” Andy looked up. You and Dani looked at him before looking at each other and laughing.

“What’s funny?” He asked, growing annoyed.

“We’re laughing at you babe. Put your phone away. It’s Y/N’s last night here.” Dani scolded playfully. Andy sighed and reluctantly put his phone in his pocket.

“Right, sorry. And it’s not her last night here. She’s coming back. You are coming back, right?” He asked you. You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure.

“Of course I’ll be back.” You shrugged. “I just want to experience something new for a while. I’ve done a million pieces on homelessness and poverty. I want to see what fresh stories New York has to offer.”

“You’re quoting the Daily Bugle, aren’t you?” Dani teased you.

“That is verbatim what they said to me.” You admitted with a laugh. “But hey, it worked. As of tomorrow, I’m the Daily Bugle’s newest investigative reporter.”

“Who are you reporting on anyway?” Andy showed a rare interest in your work.

“Some guy named Cletus Kasady.” You answered. “He’s some hot shot serial killer down in Queens. No one knows how he’s hiding his victims bodies. Apparently none have ever been close to being found.”

“And they want you to write the story on him?” Andy raised an eyebrow, always with the condescending tone.

“Well they heard about the whole Carlton Drake situation and decided I hadn’t been through enough trauma in my career.” You replied, earning a laugh from Dani but not Andy. You and Andy had already broken up by the time Carlton Drake contracted a symbiote and tried to kill you and Venom. You stopped him before he could hurt anyone and wrote a career defining article on his lethal human experiments. You managed to leave out all information regarding symbiotes from the article, so your secret was still safe. You were a fairly well known reporter since the incident and your next job was waiting for you in New York.

In the morning, You and Venom got on a plane and made your way to New York. Being on a plane with Venom turned out to be the equivalent to traveling with a toddler. You tried to sleep, but every two seconds you had to stop Venom from getting into trouble. She kept trying to open the window, even after you explained to her that everyone on the plane would die horrible death if the window were to open.

“Stop that.” You whispered when you noticed a black tendril creeping towards the window. The lady in the seat next to you shot me a look of confusion. You gave her a fake smile and turned back to the window, doing your best to conceal the small black tendril that was coming out of your body and fidgeting with the airplane window.

“We want it open.” Venom replied telepathically.

“Do you also want us to blow out of the plane and into space?” You said through my teeth.

“We didn’t anticipate that but it’d be appreciated.” Venom answered, making you groan. The rest of the plane ride followed in similar fashion.

Seven hours later, you arrived at the apartment building. You had never been to your dads apartment, you didn’t even know he had one. You wondered what happened to your childhood home as you looked around the place. The apartment wasn’t too small but not too big either. The rent was practically nothing compared to how expensive San Francisco was, and The Daily Bugle offered to cover your expenses until the story was done. You figured after some redecorating and moving in, it would make a fine new home.

The first seven days in the apartment went by smoothly. You unpacked, with little to no help from Venom, and set up the furniture. On the eight day, you sat on the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels in the TV when you had a thought.

“Oh shit.” You said out loud.

“What?” Venom, who was curly nestled around your neck like a neck pillow, asked.

“I forgot mail exists.” You frowned. “We better go check the mailbox before it overflows.”

You and Venom grudgingly walked to the mailboxes and back again. No one was around, so she manifested herself and rested on your shoulder as I looked through the mail.

“Oops. I grabbed someone else’s mail too.” You clicked your tongue when you read a strangers name off the envelope. “I gotta find them.”

“Let’s go.” Venom said and pulled you towards the front door.

“Sorry, babe. This is a me thing, not a we thing. You know I love you but I don’t want to scare our neighbors. Not yet anyway.” You reasoned. Venom grumbled and went back inside your body.

You checked the address of the envelope and discovered that it belonged to the apartment directly across from you.

You knocked on the door and patiently waited for someone to open it as you mindlessly cracked your knuckles. Just as you were about to walk away, the door opened.

“Hi, are you May Parker?” You asked right away. You looked up from the envelope and your face instantly flushed. The person staring back at you definitely wasn’t May Parker. It was a boy around your age, maybe a little younger. He had soft brown eyes and wavy brown hair. It was gelled back loosely and you could see the outline of soft curls. To your surprise, he was just as flushed as you were. You stared at each other for a moment, no one wanting to be the first to blink.

“Yea. I’m May Parker.” The boy said finally. He shut his eyes in embarrassment and shook his head.

“I mean, no I’m not. But that’s my Aunt. May is my Aunt but I’m not May. That’s my Aunt May. I’m her nephew…obviously. Aunt May is my Aunt May. I…what?” He stumbled over his words and somehow turned even redder. His blush reached all the way down his neck, to his blue jumper that read “Midtown Tech” in yellow letters. You recognized the name of one of the most prestigious high schools in New York, already impressed with your new neighbor.

“Well hello, not May Parker. I’m also not May Parker. But I seemed to forget that when I grabbed your mail this morning. Sorry about that.” You said sheepishly as you handed his mail to him. The boy rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at it and attempted to redeem himself.

“It’s not problem. She and I always forget to check the mail so you actually helped us, um, whoever you are.” He smiled weakly. His voice was cute. He had that Queens accent that the people of San Francisco lacked, for obvious reasons.

“Oh, right.” You laughed in embarrassment. “I’m Y/N L/N. I just moved here from San Francisco. I live across the hall.”

You pointed to the door behind you as if he didn’t know what “across the hall” meant. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were never this awkward.

His eyes lit up a bit once you told him where you lived.

“Really? I thought that smelly guy lived there.” The boy said and you stifled a laugh.

“That smelly guy was my father. He died a little while ago so I live there now.” You told him, malign the boys eyes widen. They were so brown. Like little pools of honey. Or little pools of the Hudson River. You had seen a million pairs of brown eyes before, but none like his. They were quite distracting to be honest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I had. I had no idea-“ he began to frantically apologize but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. We never got along. And you’re right, that man stank.” You chuckled. It was the first thing you said that felt like your old self. You hadn’t really talked to anyone since moving to New York, with the exception of Venom and the occasional phone call from Andy or Dani. You liked talking to this boy, though you still had no idea who he was.

“Oh thank God. I thought I screwed this up before it even went anywhere.” He immediately turned red when he heard his own words. You saw the regret in his eyes and decided to throw him a bone.

“Well it certainly can’t go anywhere until you tell me your name.” You flirted. Again, he relaxed. You felt a surge of confidence knowing he wanted this to go well.

“Parker. I’m Parker Peter. I mean, Peter Parker.” He fumbled over his words again, making you smile fondly.

“We like him. He’s cute.” Venom said telepathically. You looked down at my shoes and blushed, knowing you liked him too.

“And he looks delicious.” She added, ruining the moment.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter Parker.” You gave him your best smile. “I’m glad there’s someone my age around here. Everyone I’ve met so far is either an old bitty or a creepy uncle type.” You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. You didn’t know what his sense of humor was like and he might not find you the slightest but funny. Andy always told you you were bad at telling jokes, and you feared he might be right.

Lucky for you, Peter burst out laughing.

“Ah. I’ve seen you’ve met Henry.” Peter pointed a finger down the hall. “Yeah, I’d stay away from him. He asked me if he could have pictures of my feet once. He said he’d “pay me handsomely” for it too.”

“Damn. So he beat me to asking you.” You pretended to be upset, which made Peter laugh again. The sound of his laugh made your heart pick up speed. You weren’t used to feeling like this. Boys rarely impressed you, Andy was just lucky you liked a man in uniform.

“Yeah. You better stay away from him.” Peter advised.

“It might be hard.” You clicked your tongue. “Our mailboxes are pretty close. I’ll make a mental note to never check my mail while wearing flip flops, though.”

Peter smiled at your joke. He had the kind of smile that you would make the person laugh just to see it again. It was brilliant.

“Well my mailbox should be directly above yours. So don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He grinned, and you grinned back.

“My hero.” You gushed as you put your hands over your heart. The tips of his ears went pink, like he was shocked that you said that.

“I’m no hero.” He sounded almost panicked, like you touched a nerve or something.

“We’re hungry. We need to eat.” Venom interrupted abruptly, causing you to jump. Since Peter couldn’t hear her, he looked at you strangely, not knowing the cause of your sudden jolt.

“Sorry, I uh, I thought I saw a spider.” You lied.

“If there was a spider, we’d eat it. We need food. Now.” Venom demanded.

Peter looked up at his doorframe for the imaginary spider.

“Yeah, New York is full of them.” Peter said skeptically. “Not that full, though. And some spiders are nice. One might even call them friendly.”

“Right.” You laughed at his strange wording, unaware that you were both keeping a secret.

“Would…” Peter began but trailed off, seemingly mulling something over in his head. “Would you like to eat dinner with my Aunt and I? I remember when we first moved in, it took us a while to get into the swing of things and make dinner every night. If you like, you could join us. And, you know, we could get to know each other.” He offered. It all came out in one breath. You could tell he was nervous and that only drew you in more.

“I’d love to Peter.” You said, and he smiled in relief.

“Great.” He gave an awkward thumbs up. “We usually eat around six so maybe come around then? She’ll be so happy to meet you. She loves cooking and she always tries to get me to learn but I once burnt cereal and I still don’t know how.” Peter began to ramble. He cut himself off and shook his head again. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

Then, you did something stupid. You put your hand on his arm like the dumb bitch you were. You barely knew this guy. Who the hell were you to touch him? He must’ve been thinking the same thing, since he instantly froze under your touch and stared at your hand on his arm.

“Don’t apologize. I can’t cook either. Unless you count making tater tots as cooking. Then I’m Gordon Ramsey.” You assured him, feeling him relax under your touch.

“You’re just gonna mention tater tots without warning us first? Our mouth is watering. Can we eat Peter?” Venom asked, making your eyes widen.

If it was socially acceptable to scream at your symbiote in public, you would’ve yelled “NO, WE CANNOT EAT PETER” from the top of your lungs. But since you didn’t want to scare Peter and the rest of the neighbors away, you merely smiled and made another mental note to smack the shit out of Venom later.

“I love that man. “Where is the lamb sauce?” Peter mimicked in a bad British accent. He had no right being as charming as he was.

“No no no.” You shook your head. “His best line is “I’ll get you more pumpkin and I’ll ram it right up your ass. Would you like it whole or diced?”. He’s said some pretty wild things but that one makes me cry.”

Peters laugh rang through the halls. To be the cause of that laugh was a feeling like no other. You stood there for a while, just looking at each other. His eyes grazed down your body, but not in a crude way. You berated yourself for not dressing better when going to meet the neighbors, clad in nothing but a grey hoodie and some leggings. Peter looked cute, but you had a feeling he always did. His jumper was pretty baggy and you could see a collared shirt poking out the top. He was dressed almost professionally and you found it incredibly endearing.

You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to know his secrets and his hobbies and what makes him itch. You wanted to see if he dresses this way on weekends too or what his summer clothes looked like. Your gawking was interrupted by Peters phone ringing. He broke out of his trance and answered it quickly.

“Hi, Mr. S. No I’m not busy. I mean, I’m super busy but I can totally make time for you. Yea, Happy talked to me. Okay. Okay. Where? Okay. See you in a bit.” Peter hung up and looked at you apologetically.

“That was my job. I have to run but I’ll be back in time for our dinner. I live at…you know where I live. I’ll see you then. Don’t be late.” Peter called as he ran down the hallway, towards the elevator.

“I won’t. See you later.” You called back.

You went back to your apartment and like a kid, broke out into a happy dance.

“Venom!! Did you see how cute he was?” You gushed. “And how funny he is? I have to get ready for tonight.”

Venom manifested and swirled around my arm.

“Someone has a crush.” Venom smirked. Well, as much of a smirk as she could muster with that huge mouth of hers.

“I don’t have a crush. I just think he’s cute okay?” You replied coyly. “Cute. And funny and sweet and charming and amazing. But that’s it.”

“We can feel your heart beat.” Venom reminded you. “It was going ten miles an hour. What would Andy say?”

You had been rummaging through your closet and stopped in your tracks. With Peters new inhabitance in your mind, you had forgotten all about Andy. You moved to New York to avoid his wedding and his moving on, and you might’ve succeeded.

“I don’t care what he’d say.” You decided. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But we want him to be.” Venom insisted. “We want him back, remember?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You answered honestly. “I just want to get ready for tonight.”

“Why are you getting ready now? You have 5 hours until you have to be there and it’s right across the hall.” Venom teased.

“Only 5 hours?” You sighed. “We better get moving.”

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Nightcrawler and the Princess

Kurt Wagner x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Being the princess of a small kingdom has its perks. However, you’re not sure this is a secret you can share with the rest of your friends…

Note: Did I make this a subtle crossover with the Princess Diaries? Yes. Yes I did. Don’t worry about it.

Reader is: Female

Warnings: Swears

Word Count: 1.8k

You carried the large box to the lunch table and set it there, in the middle of your friend group. Jean eyed it curiously.

“What’s that?”

“Care package from my mom.” You replied, using the pair of scissors you kept in your school bag to cut open the packing tape. “She said there’s stuff for the rest of you in here too. Probably candy or something.”

“That’s nice of her.” Scott smiled, watching as you opened the cardboard box.

“Ah, yep.” You reached into the bag and pulled out several packages of Genovian chocolates. “Here you go, guys.” You told them.

Kurt’s eyes narrowed at the bags, his tail hovering behind him curiously. He recognized that packaging. “These…I know these chocolates. Does your mother live in Genovia?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m from there, actually.”

Peter thought for a second, already munching on chocolate. “Wait, I thought you were American.”

“Nope.” You laughed, reaching further into the box and pulling out a handful of little Genovian flags she’d sent. “Ah, right. Independence day is coming up.”

“Where even is Genovia anyway?” Warren asked, admiring the little flag once you handed it to him.

“It’s a tiny little country between France and Italy.” You explained. “It’s really beautiful there, though.”

“It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.” Kurt reminisced, sighing fondly.

“When did you visit?” You asked him.

“Several years ago.” He said. “The circus had a few shows there when I was young. The people were so kind, and the coast sparkled like diamonds.”

“You were with the Munich circus, right?” You asked him, trying to remember. He nodded proudly, a smile settling onto his face. “I was at one of your shows! I knew you looked familiar! Oh my god…” You laughed and shook your head. “I should have put those pieces together sooner.”

“You were there?”

“Yeah! My mom took me for my birthday.” You smiled, remembering the show fondly.

And Kurt knew then the information that you were withholding from the rest of the group. His eyes widened slightly and he studied your features. He remembered you. He remembered that day and he remembered the feeling of his heart hammering when after the show, the Queen of Genovia herself introduced him to her daughter, who was about his age. She’d taken her there because it was the princess’ birthday. Though your meeting was brief, he’d remembered it all this time, thinking of it every once in a while…the time he’d met a princess.

You didn’t look all that different now than you had then. Why you hadn’t told the rest of your friend group, he wasn’t sure, but he would keep the secret for you. Of course he would. He smiled softly, admiring you with his new revelation in mind. Even before he’d figured it out, you’d already been a princess to him anyway.

Peter studied the look on Kurt’s face and squinted. Something was going on. Something was going on and he would get to the bottom of it…

***

Over the weekend, your friend group had decided to go to the mall, but before you left, Kurt knocked on the door to your room.

“It’s open, come on in.” You told him.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the room timidly. You were at your desk, reading what appeared to be a letter written on a piece of paper.

“What’s up?” You asked, not looking up from the letter when you asked it.

“You’re coming to the mall, right?”

“Yeah, what time is it?” You glanced down at your watch. “Oh shit. Sorry I’m late.” You chuckled, folding the note and tucking it into your dress drawer. “My mom wrote me a letter with her package.” You explained.

“How nice!” Kurt smiled and you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering at the way it lit up his face. “Do you write each other letters back and forth?”

“When I have time to, yeah.” You nodded, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Well, shall we?”

Kurt nodded and offered you his arm. You took it and in a poof of smoke, suddenly, you were standing in the living room, where the others were all standing.

Peter had a weird look on his face and you weren’t sure why, but you knew he was up to no good. He always seemed to be…

The squad piled into the car, as usual, and arrived at the mall in under thirty minutes. Jubilee picked the tunes, which was always a good choice, so the ride there was pleasant and relatively uneventful.

You all walked inside and started the routine of shopping around in all of your usual stores. The prom was coming up, so you all spent some time in the dress place on the upper level of the store.

“What color dress do you think you’re going to get, (Y/N)?”

“Mmm, I’m not sure.” You thought for a moment. “Maybe something pink. Or…blue?”

“I think blue would look great on you.” Jubilee grinned, flipping through the rack of blue dresses.

“I agree.” Jean smiled, her eyes flicking over towards Kurt, who was on the other side of the store with the boys.

“Hey now.” You warned, your cheeks warming at the thought. “What did I say about reading my mind?”

“I didn’t need to read your mind. You’re more obvious than you think you are.” She chuckled.

“What she said,” Ororo agreed, causing your cheeks to flush even hotter. “Why don’t we ask the boys which one you should wear?”

“That’s a great idea.” Jubilee agreed, despite your shaking head. “Hey boys!”

“Yes? What’s going on?” Kurt bamfed over beside you, looking at Jubilee curiously.

“Which dress should (Y/N) wear to prom?” Ororo held up one pink dress and one blue dress.

“The blue one.” Scott said knowingly, crossing his arms and smirking. Okay. So he and Jean had talked, then. “Definitely the blue one.”

“I agree.” Warren nodded.

“What do you think, Kurt?” Scott nudged the teleporter.

“I think you’d look beautiful in anything. But I do like the blue one. It brings out your eyes.”

“T-thanks.” You blushed, giggling. None of you committed to dresses, so after looking around for a while the squad decided to hit the food court while looking over movie times.

“So…” Peter looked up at you and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the rest of the group. “When were you planning to spill the beans…your highness?”

You swore your blood ran cold. You looked up at him, your heart racing in your chest and the color drained from your face. “Excuse you?”

“You heard me.” Peter raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair confidently. “When were you going to tell the rest of us your little royal secret?”

You froze, staring at him for a long time. “Maximoff,” you said through gritted teeth, your eyes glowing faintly. “Choose your next few words very carefully.”

“Oh I have. (Y/N)’s the princess of Genovia.”

“Pfft. As if.” Scott scoffed, chuckling, but he stopped when he looked at the look on your face. “Oh shit, is he serious?”

“Who the fuck told you?!” You asked him, your voice raising the teeniest bit. “The only people who know are Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy, so which one do I have to kill when we get home?”

“Neither. I snooped in Xavier’s office. Found your file.” Peter shrugged. “And of course, that begs the question: Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Listen…” You exhaled a long breath, looking to each of your friends faces for a moment before fixing your eyes on the table. “When people know, they treat me differently. I don’t think they mean to, but they do and it sucks. I like having friends and I love hanging out with you guys and I didn’t want to ruin that because of something as stupid as status.”

“You’ve got us.” Jean promised. “We’re not going anywhere. This doesn’t change anything. And…I already kind of knew. Not that you think about it often, but every once in a while…”

“I figured that might happen, yeah.” You chuckled. “Thanks for keeping it on the DL.”

“Of course.” She nodded.

“I knew too…” Kurt confessed, looking you in the eye.

You crinkled your eyebrows and then nodded, understanding. Of course he knew. You two had met before, after the show. You’d asked your mother if you could meet some of the performers, and she’d pulled some strings to make it happen. You distinctly remembered meeting Kurt. You remembered his smile and his adorable pointy ears.

“That’s right.” You smiled. “We met.”

“We did.” He agreed, nodding, a smile tugging at his lips and a faintly purple color creeping across his cheeks. “Although, I’ll admit, I didn’t realize it was you until…very recently. We aren’t kids anymore.”

“We sure aren’t.” You agreed, a chuckle escaping your lips.

And it was fine after that. It was normal. Much more normal than you’d expected it to be. Another week came and went. You finished your letter to your mom, Queen Clarisse, and when its response came back in the mail, you found it accompanied by a small picture she had saved all these years. As soon as you looked at it, a smile on your face, you knew you had to show Kurt.

So, you ran out to the courtyard, where you knew he was, and found him reading under the shade of a large tree in the front yard.

“Kurt!”

“What’s up?”

“My mom sent a few copies of this photo. Do you want one?” You asked, sitting next to him in the grass and handing him the photo. He looked it over, holding it very carefully in a large, three-fingered hand.

“This is us, ja?”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed, nodding. “A very long time ago.”

“We were so young…” He murmured, admiring the smile on his face as well as yours. He remembered you’d been nervous to meet him and at first, he thought it was because of the way he looked, but quickly learned it was because you’d been enamored by his performance. Absolutely blown away. You’d been so kind to him then, just as you were so kind to him now.

“We really were.”

“Do you mind if I keep this?”

“It’s all yours.” You told him. “So, what’cha reading?”

“Beauty and the Beast.” He told you. Ever since remembering that one of his best friends was a princess, he’d been on a bit of a fairytale kick.

“Mmm, that’s a good one.” You smiled and tilted your head, your eyes sparkling. “Read to me?”

“Of course.” He laid back against the tree again, holding the book open with his tail.

You got closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting your head against his lean chest. His arm wrapped around you and tugged you closer, and without even thinking about it twice, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline before starting to read again.

Kurt decided then that there was no place in the world he’d rather be than under his favorite tree, a princess resting contently against his chest.

Part 2?

[hewhofightsbythesword]

scotch or irish? tommy shelby x reader

warning/s: underage drinking, swearing, violence, and slight smut

 inspired by disco pigs (2001) 

A/N: I was really high when I came up this idea. Even wrote it while I was high, but I couldn’t find it the next mirning. Wasn’t sure if I really wrote it or if it was a dream. Either way, it’s here lol After like two weeks. Sowwyy 

Tommy and y/n. y/n and Tommy. For as long as the pair can remember, that’s the way it has always been. Born only a few months apart, the two created an instant bond so strong that Aunt Polly said it would transcend through many lifetimes. And of course, Aunt Polly was never wrong in the matters of the heart. This was a friendship full of heart, romantic and platonic love for there was not one without the rest. Tommy’s mother would say to Polly, “That boy... it’s his cleverness that’ll kill him.” Martha found herself confiding in her more, so she continued, “As long as Tommy and y/n have each other... I am not worried.” And everyone knew. Everyone except Tommy and y/n.

The two had very similar minds. What one was thinking, the other was already mentally processing and vice versa. It would be almost adorable if it wasn’t so weird, as Arthur Sr. would call it. It was only weird because they were so smart. Against everybody else (even Polly at times, although she would never admit it), they were always two steps ahead.

From a young age the two understood their natural connection. For example, at the age of seven, Tommy and y/n planned to swear a vow of silence together that was planned to last a total of ten days. At first, y/n was met with slight worry from Tommy.

“We need code names! What should I call you if I need you?”

“You won’t have to need me, silly. That’s the whole point! I will already know, and so will you.” The logic was missing. They were both aware of this but none cared.

The goal was set for ten days. Not a single word was uttered between the kids or anyone else for that matter, aggravating the living hell out of those around them, especially Arthur who would’ve done anything to be a part of the joke. However, by day five, y/n broke the vow, rushing her feet as fast as they allowed a few houses down on Watery Lane.

That day she had heard a few of the older Lee boys, around Arthur’s age, speaking down on the Gypsy Shelby’s. y/n just had to tell Tommy or she was sure she would burst. It was also on day five Tommy came to two realizations: (1) He too would break their vow of silence. There was nothing worth doing if it meant he couldn’t do it with the person who understood him the most. (2) Tommy decided that same day that y/n, in her own right, was a Shelby too.

“Shelby,” he whispers to himself, only for him to hear.

At age 15, y/n was able to convince Tommy to steal a bottle of whiskey from the local pub. Her little hands shoved a piece of a paper with instructions in his direction. “Meet me here,” was all she told him with big eyes before he could even get a word in, running back to whatever held her short attention span. Unfolding the paper, Tommy could see a drawn out map of where to find the only girl who could keep young Tommy on his toes.

If anyone asked him, he would tell them all this was something he had to do. Many nights Arthur and Tommy had to go in all hours of the night looking for their father in pubs. One night in a drunken haze, Arthur Sr. takes his second born by the shoulders, causing him to be dragged onto the floor next to his father. He takes his boy by the face, shaking it a few times to show how serious he was trying to be.

“A man is meant to provide, always. Be a man, Thomas.”

y/n asked and Tommy planned to provide.

Seeing the large “X” marking the destination, it matched the location right before Tommy’s eyes. It was a beautiful far away, empty place from Watery Lane with lots of surrounding nature. It had just finished raining. y/n always did like the way the rain made the earth smell.

She notices her friend right away and runs up to him. y/n takes him by the hand. “I found my favorite tree here. Come on,” she says very nonchalantly.

Tommy shakes his head behind her. “Of course you did, Shelby. Of course you did.”

y/n often thought the world moved too slow for her liking. She always liked to be out and about. Always wild, never to be tamed. She figures that’s why she likes the Shelby’s so much. She was blessed to find a family early in her life that matched her soul. Except, she knows why she likes Tommy so much. He liked to be wild too. He moved just as fast as y/n, and he thought just as fast as her. So there was no doubt in her mind once she tasked her best friend with the alcohol that he'd deliver.

“I just took the first one I saw and ran like hell.” He presents y/n the bottle.

“Scotch whiskey,” y/n reads the label out loud before opening it. Tommy at this point began to see the trouble that she carried within her starting to stir. Confirming this intuitive feeling, y/n goes to make a quick toast like the kind she has seen her father make with Tommy’s. “To your Aunt Pol who would kill you if she ever knew, Thomas Shelby,” she groans out as she takes the first large swing with the most confidence. Even from when they were children, Tommy always wondered how so much confidence could fit in such a small body.

He takes the bottle from her to mimic her actions. “To my Aunt Polly who will find out by the week’s end.” They both laugh before Tommy takes his sip, but when he does, he takes it differently than y/n. “What the fuck, y/n. How can you even drink that shit?” He spits and coughs as he attempts to recover.

“What? I like it.” She shrugs while going for another.

At age 18, Tommy realized he loved y/n. By the time Tommy turned eighteen, it came to no surprise to anyone that he was already turning out to be a ladies man. Girls turning into young women were quick to notice his dark hair and hypnotic blue eyes. He was different than any of the factory worker boys that took after their fathers. He was ambitious. He wanted more to life than what dirty old Birmingham could offer, and the young women knew this so in some way, it even made it seem okay that his last name was Shelby. Almost as if Tommy was being pardoned for being a Shelby. And he hated that feeling.

y/n never made Tommy feel that way. She was always the first and the last one to defend her friend since birth. Crowned by Tommy all those years ago, she was Shelby. What else could have made her break her vow with Tommy all those years ago? Tommy didn’t realize exactly what he was realizing at the time. How could he? They were kids being kids. He couldn’t have known it was loyalty. If it wasn’t clear to Tommy then, it was now.

“You need to get out of here. Go get Arthur and John. This is no place for a woman,” Tommy warns y/n one night out, sensing trouble.

The two found themselves cornered by a group of boys around their age. The Peaky Blinders were gaining respect, notoriety, and fear from those around them. Things were changing for the Shelby’s, but not everyone agreed. Most certainly not the three boys looking for a fight. “Run!”

“No!” She hisses back. She tightens her fist and holds them up.

“There is no fucking way I’m letting you do this.”

“Either I leave to get the boys and we come back to your half-dead body, if we’re lucky or I stay and fight and we may actually win this.” Truth be told, y/n wished she could listen to Tommy and go get his brothers. But more than the fear she felt for herself, it was tenfold for Tommy.

“Damn you, Shelby.” he tells her as the fight breaks out.

No words were exchanged on the walk to The Garrison. It seemed like all of the day’s events were forcing Tommy to think about the vow they made when they were seven. Only this time, Tommy could see the logic she proposed. He did know what she was thinking because he was so sure she was thinking the same as him.

“Whiskey, Harry,” was all Tommy said, not bothering to spare the man a glance. y/n goes to sit at a table like they always do but was stopped by Tommy. He latches onto her hand, careful with the cuts and bruises that were beginning to form. “No,” he tells her, “We’ll be in the snug.” And no one protested. They may have wanted to but at the sight of blood on their clothes and on his razor blade, no one dared to speak out against the Blinder.

Not long after Harry delivers two glasses of whiskey through the snug’s window. “Give the toast, Shelby,” he gives the cup to y/n.

Her eyes never leave his. Even with exhaustion hijacking them, y/n could not name a more beautiful sight. “To you, Tommy. To the best and worst pal in the world.”

In his state of shock, Tommy failed to clink their glasses together, so y/n did it. The sound pulls him out of his own swirling thoughts, and they down their drink in an instant. Like the siamese twins they are, a look of disgust and twinge of horror overtake their faces.

“Scotch.”

“Irish.”

They both spit out like venom but were quick to laugh it off. “You gave me the wrong cup, Thomas!”

“Hey, come on now. I’m still Tommy. I’m just a bloody idiot for not knowing the difference.”

Only a few moments later, the laughing winds down a bit. The atmosphere still remains light only to be shattered. “Why don’t you love me?” He blurts out to y/n. “Like the way I love you?”

y/n’s content smile never falters. “I believe you have been too busy to notice me, Tommy. I’ve been right here. Because if you would have just asked, I would’ve said I loved you too. And I do... love you too.”

He smiles at her. “The best and worst pal in the world.”

y/n could feel her heart begin to hammer against her chest. She no longer felt like she was sitting down but floating. With the adrenaline from the fight gone, she should have been able to feel her wounds mark their place on her skin. But that’s not true. All she could feel was a warm, tight feeling in her chest. The boy she loved, loved her back. And no amount of irish whiskey could ever compare.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.”

Tommy’s eyes searched y/n’s for any trace of hesitance or fraud but found none. All he could see were the eyes of the girl he loved the most. And most importantly, the girl loved him back.

He stands up to speak to Harry through the snug’s window and comes back shortly after. “Come here, Shelby.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss the only girl in all of Small Heath that I love.” At that, y/n had no protests.

Their kiss was nothing less of what the two expected. It wasn't awkward. Nerve wracking, sure, but not awkward. Many nights y/n dreamt about this very moment. She dreamt how Tommy’s lips would feel against hers. She often wondered what kind of lover he was. And now she knows, leaving her with no more thoughts to wonder about.

She is the first one to pull away. “I have loved you since we were seven and you called me “Shelby” for the first time.” She places desperate kisses onto his lips, cheeks, and neck. Anywhere they would fall, really, leaving traces of pure love behind.

Tommy feels like he is starting to lose control once her pillow soft lips attack his neck. “Tell me again, y/n. Let me hear you.”

“I love you,” She reminds him in between her kisses.

“Shelby... if you keep doing that, I’m not sure how much gentleman will be left in me.”

She looks up from the spot on his neck she was loving on, having found his sweet spot. “This one? Right here?” She asks, feigning innocence as she lightly bites down. When she hears his soft moan, her tongue laps at the spot relieving it only to finish off with a few kisses.

Before the last one can even land, Tommy’s hand finds her neck to take control once more. He doesn’t squeeze nor does he have a rough hold. He merely wraps his fingers around the neck he will one day dress in the biggest jewels. Tommy guides y/n to the edge of the table and pushes her to lay on it.

“Here, Tommy?” She giggles watching her best friends crawl on top of her

He shushes her with more wet kisses. “No one will come in. It’s just me and you.” His hands caress, squeeze, and tease whatever he can.

“It’s yours, Tommy, my heart. It’s all yours.”

He wraps his hand under her hair that was sprawled over the table into a makeshift ponytail. “Mine,” he proves when he finally feels all of her. His eyes never hers, wanting to sear the memory of the exact moment she became his. Pain overtakes her face but her hands on his lower back right above his ass lets him know she was okay. After a while, y/n signals Tommy to start moving once more and pain starts to transform into a pleasure y/n never thought was possible.

All the sounds the two were making were sure to be drowned out by the ruckus made by the drunk men just outside the snug. Tommy was sure to tell Harry that no one else was allowed in under any circumstances. In his moment of euphoria, Tommy was ready to wet his razor blade for the second time that night should anyone dare barge in and take a look at what belonged to him.

This wasn’t Tommy’s first time but it was the first time he realized all what sex could be. All the men in his life were wrong. He was wrong. It didn’t have to be all what they said it should. All he ever needed was y/n. Now that he had her, he had no intention of ever letting go.

Basking in the momentary afterglow of his best orgasm, he says, “You know what, Shelby? I don’t think I mind scotch whiskey all that much anymore,” his thumb traces y/n lower lip, even getting it slightly moist, “Not when the taste comes from your lips. My lips.”

[h2bakugou]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hii, new look oo, also first genshin post. i wrote this a while ago, and it’s loosely based off of tangled. i’ll probably keep this look for the genshin posts but mha posts will stay the same!!

at the time of writing, these characters do not have official ages, all characters are written within an aged up (18+) alternate universe.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re a little more than determined to spend time with the so called ‘vigilant yaksha’ and he’s a little more than persuaded at the mention of almond tofu.

𝐤𝐞𝐲: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/e) - your element

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

;cut for length;

The air was crisp as you trudged on through to the Wangshu Inn. The once clear blue sky had begun to melt and mix with the purple and pink hues of a sunset. Stars began to hang in the sky, illuminating millions of constellations for you to glance upon on your journey.

You had made plans for the evening. To spend with Xiao. That was if you could drag him down from the Inn to come with you. You had little hope you could actually manage the task ahead of you, but you just had to believe. It wasn’t as if you were asking him to come march into Liyue Harbor with you.

You had other plans. While a calming stroll through the lit-up city of Liyue would be nice with the so-called ‘Vigilant Yaksha,’ all you really wanted to do was spend some alone time with him.

As you step foot onto the lift that would bring you into the treetop that held the Wangshu Inn, you could feel your nerves beginning to grow. Maybe this was a bad idea? What if he was busy and already had plans to do something? What if-

“Are you just going to stand there and go back down?” Xiao’s voice cut through your intrusive thoughts when you realized you were still standing on the wooden lift, now stopped on the top floor. You quickly darted off, turning to see it begin to lower.

“I was lost in thought. Sorry.” You apologize and smile, forcing your nerves down as you stood in front of him.

“What brings you here?” Xiao asked, beginning to walk around the wooden terrace, over to where he usually gazed out upon the landscape of Liyue.

“I came to see you, actually.” You spoke softly, admiring how Xiao’s features seemed to glow from the sun’s setting rays. His amber eyes gleamed as he turned his head to look at you, taking in your own seemingly glowing appearance in the sunset.

“It’s always something with you.” Xiao commented, looking back over the land. He preferred to be alone, yet there was a little piece of him that did enjoy your company. Although you were persistent and rather eager to spend time with him, he secretly enjoyed your surprisingly quiet presence whenever you bought him Almond Tofu.

“Whaddaya’ say we go take a little boat ride? Just the two of us, the water, and maybe some yummy Almond Tofu?” You’d said the magic words.

“Almond Tofu?” Xiao had been captivated yet again by the mortal dish. He’d say it was your superpower to make a dish so well, but with how many times you’d prepared it for him, he could only say it was just from practice.

“I know you prefer to be alone, but just for a little while? It wouldn’t hurt to dine elsewhere tonight.” You knew he hadn’t eaten yet. He had a set schedule of eating dinner promptly at 7:05 pm. You’d made it on time with about an hour to kill, which would give you plenty of time to get to where you had planned everything out, time to eat, and a few minutes to spare to talk.

“Fine. But only for a little while.” Xiao was staring at you. You were making those puppy-dog eyes that he found hard to resist. You were one of the few mortals Xiao was ‘fond’ of.

“Great! Let’s go!” Your hand darted to his, pulling him along quickly as you rushed over to the lift which had returned up again. Xiao was unfamiliar with the warm feeling of your hand in his, but he swallowed his snide comments and let you be contempt with the sudden gesture. It was his job as a Yaksha to ensure your safety and comfort.

The small journey there didn’t take long, your destination was right near the bottom of the Wangshu Inn. Getting into the wooden boat was a bit tricky, but all was well when you sat down.

Xiao glared at you as you sat in front of him on the wooden boat, asking him nicely to use some anemo power to push the small wooden boat off of the land and into the water.

“Pretty please?” You begged, fluttering your eyelashes. Xiao groaned and in a swift few movements, the boat began to float on the water, moving slowly down the river.

Sitting back down across from you, Xiao took in the sights. A small lantern adorned the bow of the small wooden boat the two of you sat in. The water around you was clear and blue, reflecting the stars that twinkled in the sky above. It was ethereal and beautiful. Xiao couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen something so gorgeous.

“I’m sorry, it’s a bit tossed around, but it’s still Almond Tofu.” Your rather long journey to Wangshu Inn had proven to be a bit difficult, running into a Ruin Guard had certainly thrown you off the beaten path. You handed Xiao the container that held the meal you cooked up, thankful that it still looked appetizing.

Xiao didn’t hesitate, digging into the delicious meal that you’d made from him. Even when you didn’t have any ulterior motives when you showed up to see him at the Inn, you always brought or made him Almond Tofu, as a thank you for his protection.

It was an unusual bond, the one you shared. Xiao could ignore you, or tell you to go away, and you’d give him a nod, giving him an offering before parting ways. But you always came back, the same familiar bright smile adorning your lips.

Even on the days when Xiao could tell you weren’t okay, you always wore a smile. Because you got to see him. He would never understand, or at least at the moment, would never understand how seeing him brought you so much joy. Perhaps it was beyond him. He didn’t wish to be a burden on someone who seemed so happy, that’s why he distanced himself from you. But it never stopped you from climbing up that big tree right to where he sat on the branches, an eager smile on your lips as you hoisted yourself over the branch.

The sky had finally tuned a deep dark navy blue, lit up by the stars and the rising moon. You had finished your own helping of Almond Tofu and patiently awaited Xiao to finish his. You didn’t say much, only commenting on the beautiful sky as you quietly pointed out stars.

When Xiao finished eating, you stored the containers back into your satchel and glanced over at him. Xiao’s amber eyes met with yours and for a few seconds, he swore he saw your face grow a bit redder. You quickly looked away, worried about making him uncomfortable.

“Now that we’ve eaten, I can head back.” Xiao said curtly, ready to turn the boat around and return to where you’d departed from.

“Wait!” You quickly stood, attempting to stop him which only rocked the boat more, causing you to become unstable and fall over onto him.

Lifting your head, you were met with those cold amber eyes, only ten times closer. Your noses were just about touching as you stared at him. You couldn’t help but ogle at him, your heart beginning to beat faster.

“Are you, um, alright?” Xiao asked bluntly, his words were sharp and unfamiliar to his tongue. You nodded and quickly sat up, regaining your composure on the wooden bench of the boat you had been previously sitting on.

“Sorry! I just uh, can we wait a little longer?” You ask softly, glancing out in the distance. Xiao sighs and returns to his own wooden bench, crossing his arms over his chest.

A few minutes go by of complete silence. It was beginning to feel deafening as you waited. And then, just over the horizon, a singular lantern floated into the air from behind a hill.

Xiao peeked an eye open at your gasp, glancing over to where you were looking. His eyes widened as he began to see dozens, no hundreds of paper lanterns flood the sky, illuminating it with an orange glow.

“I’ve waited years to see this.” You said softly, carefully leaning over to try and get a better look.

Today was a celebration. For some unknown reason to you, thousands of lanterns got released into the night sky, adorning it with a warm glow from the small flames that burned inside them.

You had always heard rumors of the celebration, but every time you came around to ask, you were met with news of having missed it by a few days, or you were simply not there in time to see it.

But tonight, with Xiao, you were witnessing it for the first time, together. As lanterns littered the sky, you were mesmerized by the beautiful sight. A few lanterns drifted toward you, Xiao extending an arm to catch one. He glanced over at you as you reached for one as it touched the water.

Xiao huffed quietly, catching your attention. You glanced and smiled at him as he offered you the lantern in his hands. You took it graciously, your fingers grazing across his as you lifted it back into the air, watching it rejoin the others it had parted from.

“Is this what you wanted to wait on?” Xiao asked, watching as lanterns drifted all around you. You nodded and looked down at your reflection in the water.

“I thought you might like to see them too.” You glance back at Xiao and then at your lap.

“I know you think you’re a burden to those you’re around, but to me, you’re special.” You confess. Xiao is quiet for a while as he admires you. The glow of lanterns that floated on the water lit up your skin, appearing to give you some sort of aura. Xiao’s muddled feelings made him only more confused.

He wasn’t supposed to feel such attraction, let alone to a human like you. Yet, he felt a strange, warm sensation in his veins.

“Special.” Xiao repeated, earning your attention.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better protector. Thank you for always being here for me.” You felt giddy and warm inside, your heart racing as you bit your bottom lip.

“You’re welcome.” It wasn’t the first kind words he’d ever spoken to you, but they were nonetheless surprising. After all these years, living in a blur, Xiao could see perfectly clear, someone who truly enjoyed his presence.

Shining in the starlight, he laid his amber eyes upon you. You were right here, right in front of him. It was all crystal clear now. His thoughts and feelings, although still new and unfamiliar, were brought to the light.

Leaning over, Xiao placed a nervous hand on your waist and pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours.

He balanced on one hand which rested beside you on the wooden bench, his body bent over you as he kissed you. You kissed back, both surprised and contempt. Kissing back, you moved your lips against his, leading him through the kiss with ease. When he pulled away, he stayed frozen over you, staring into your eyes.

“Your lips taste like almonds.” Xiao commented. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well of course they do.” You reach a hand up and twirl a strand of his hair between his fingers. Xiao feels fuzzy as you do so. He’s so used to people being so cold and being cold to them. Being blunt and harsh would usually scare people off, which is exactly what he wanted.

But here you sat, that same goofy smile on your lips, giddy and flustered after just one kiss. Xiao placed one more kiss on your lips, it was short and straight to the point. After he leaned back and glanced back out at the lanterns.

Xiao didn’t want to speak out loud on the topic, but he did think the lanterns were beautiful. It was soothing, mixed with the sound of trickling water from the river, it was a sight to behold, one he was thankful you’d shared with him.

After returning to the shore, you made your way back to the Inn. The two of you walked side by side quietly, your pinky laced with his. When you reached the foot of the large tree which held the Inn, you let go and stood beside Xiao.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, with you.” You spoke quietly to not disturb the peace around the Inn. Xiao glanced at the ground and then to you.

“It would be foolish if you tried to journey back home, you should stay at the Inn for tonight.” Xiao knew you could be stubborn as well. You were planning on traveling toward Liyue Harbor, but that journey alone would take hours.

“Oh, I’ll be alright, I’ll make it at least halfway before I need to stop-”

“You can stay with me. I won’t say it again.” Xiao’s grip on your hand was strong, but gentle. He wasn’t hurting you, but you could tell by the tone of his voice, he seemed concerned for your journey.

“It’s not safe. And I’m not going to save you a second time today.” Xiao’s comment was humorous in intention, but it sounded more like saving people was a chore.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You sigh and begin to head up toward the Inn’s front desk. Xiao followed suit, bringing you up to his own room. It wasn’t anything super lavish, like what people would’ve expected for a Yaksha.

There was a rather large bed and many war-type relics and artifacts littered the room, from swords to pikes you swore you’d seen him use before.

“Sleep. And you better not snore.” Xiao changed quickly behind a room divider and waited until you said you were decent to step out. You both wore simple sleep clothing.

“I thought you didn’t get tired.” You huffed, smiling as you crawled into the bed,  a yawn leaving your lips.

Seeing Xiao in something so plain looked almost criminal. He looked like a normal human. Xiao crawled into the bed and scooted as close to the edge as he could. 

“Just because I don’t tire doesn’t mean I can’t sleep.” Xiao’s tone shifted as he sat down on the edge of the bed, debating on whether to lay down beside you or stay sitting up, eventually he caved and laid beside you, as close to the edge as he could get, leaving you plenty of space to sleep.

But as the night carried on, you inched closer to one another, eventually ending up in his arms, held tightly, it made Xiao feel secure to hold you in his arms. He was safe, you were safe. It made him feel at home. Like he still had a piece of tranquil mortality inside him.

He knew he’d ‘wake’ up tomorrow and play the role of the ‘Vigilant Yaksha’ but for now he’d hold you in his arms as you slept and hope for this to be a glimmer of redemption for a better, more peaceful, kind of karma.

masterlist

[symphonicmetal101]

Welcome To The World Satan

An Obey Me theory/headcanon as to how Satan gradually became accepted by a grief-ridden family

Ok to start, I’ll be referring to a couple hcs that already exist here, It’s not vital to go back and read those first, but it’s a short piece and would help me out a ton if you leave so much as a like! Thank you.

Alright, as I mentioned in the other piece, I hc that Satan was “born” as a small child, about 4 years old in human years. This is because children often do not have a way to communicate exactly how they are feeling, and their frustration is further enhanced by the lack of that ability. Because Satan was the spawn of Lucifer’s wrath, guilt, and regret, I would also like to put a theory out there that Satan is the spitting image of Lilith, seeing as losing Lilith is one of if not Lucifer’s biggest regret. However I want to take that theory a little farther.

Mammon

In those few moments it took for Satan to form, Lilith’s ghost had been nearby, heart-broken to see her brothers fall and crushed with the knowledge knowing they would be in pain in every way possible, thus merging with Satan before he fully came to be, hoping to provide to the newest member to her family, as well as use him as a vessel to aid in calming her family, despite his turbulent origins. When they crashed in the Devildom, someone wrote this much more poetically than me however I cannot remember who, I apologize, Lucifer was quick to throw himself into his work, his grief not aided by Satan’s strikingly similar appearance to Lilith, leaving Satan feeling confused and upset, as well as the pieces of Lilith with in him, who wanted nothing more than to comfort her biggest brother, but continued to be pushed away. With Leviathan under the water, Asmo indulging in his sin, Beel basically stress-eating, and Belphie sleeping the sad away, the only one really available for Satan was Mammon. Mammon of course, was dealing with his own grief, but here he was in the same room as a young crying and screaming kid that looked like his dead sister, all his brothers have kind of separated to deal with things on their own, but...he couldn’t just leave Satan. After a few attempts at calming him down and failing, Mammon started getting distracted by pieces of metal and scraps around the room, temporarily ignoring Satan and subconsciously going back to an old hobby with an alternate motive- inventing a machine that could help make him rich! Though as Mammon started gathering supplies, Satan’s cries slowly started to deescalate into small whimpers and sniffles before he crawled over to Mammon, studying what he was doing and then trying his best to help. It was a bit of a stress-reliever for Mammon, and he helped Satan the way Lucifer had helped him all those years ago, but warned him it might not work. It inevitably fell apart and Satan’s first instinct was to throw a tantrum, but as hot tears of frustration filled his eyes, Mammon simply pulled him into a hug. Lilith also helped calm him down a bit, and for the first time since being created, Satan sighed and felt peace...at least momentarily, but that was all he needed to know  he was safe with Mammon, and a piece of Lilith faded, one of her pieces of unfinished business completed.

The Twins

Satan still wasn’t accepted very quickly by the other brothers, and even with Mammon he struggled to be around him all the time, and as mentioned in the other piece, he often wandered. However one time he had had a nightmare and was walking towards Mammon’s room when he heard a pitiful cry from the twins room, daring to peek in and see Beel and Belphie sharing a bed, Beel crying in his sleep, Belphie clearly having a nightmare just like he had just had. A strange urge pushed him forward, though he felt very small in comparison, wondering what he could possibly do until he got stronger instruction from a voice in his head to lay between the two. He did, and slowly but surely the twins and himself calmed down and were able to fall back asleep. The morning after, the twins were surprised, and after listening to Satan’s story as to why he was in their bed, they had the want to protect him as well. As they spent more time with him however, they found that he not only looked like Lilith, but shared many characteristics with her. For Belphie, it was a source of comfort, whereas for Beel it brought his guilt back, and for the time being, he tried to distance himself from Satan, but always treated him kindly whenever they did happen to be in the same room. Whenever Satan couldn’t sleep, Belphie would tell him bed time stories. Eventually Satan wanted to remember all the stories Belphie told him, so he got a paper and a pen to draw what he understood from each story, and would cry and scream at Belphie if he fell asleep in the middle of telling a story. He had his own picture books now, and would review them often.

Levi

Asmo

I have some other stuff on him and Asmo here, regarding his sense of style (and/or lack thereof), but not important. Asmo wasn’t home a lot of the time after the initial fall, spending his time indulging himself, as well as going out and drinking. (May do an angst piece for Asmo in the near future, we shall see-) However as he started to adjust even the smallest bit, he started to actually decorate his room a bit instead of neglecting it. So by the Satan came stumbling down the hallway looking for something to do, his curiousity got the best of him and he walked into Asmo’s bedroom, when the Lust demon happened to be out. He took a look around the room until he found some fashion magazines, the bright colours and big lettering catching his eye. Not wanting to get caught in Asmo’s room without him there, he took one and ran to his room, and slowly looking over the words to try and sound them out, using the pictures to help him understand. As he got better at this, it would become almost a ritual. He would very quietly open the door to make sure that if Asmo was in there sleeping, he wouldn’t wake him up by accident and avoid getting caught. He would steal a few magazines (thanks Mammon for showing him how to do it “right”-), take them to his room and try to read them, but now also adding the words to Belphie’s stories under his pictures in his book. One day he was on his way to return the magazines with his book tucked under his other arm, excited to show the twins and maybe Mammon, but in his excitement he forgot to knock or check quietly first, opening the door and seeing a startled looking Asmo applying make-up at his vanity. Asmo knew about Satan, but hadn’t really seen him yet, wide-eyed at the resemblance between him and Lilith as he slowly put his mascara down and knelt on the floor, beckoning Satan closer by name, reassuring him it was ok. Satan cautiously and somewhat ashamed-looking approached Asmo, trying somewhat to hide the magazines he had, though once he was close enough Asmo could see that there were a few tears in his eyes, from fear, and anger at himself, and embarrassment in getting caught. He gently put his hand on Satan’s shoulder and asked him if he needed a hug, trying not to let on just how much he needed one himself. Satan started crying and apologized for taking the magazines without permission as he hugged Asmo. Asmo reassured him it was ok and held him close until he stopped crying, just rocking him back and forth a bit. When he was done, Asmo had a few tears in his eyes as well as he wiped Satan’s away, explaining he wasn’t upset, but curious as to why Satan wanted to look at the magazines. Satan proudly presented his homemade book to Asmo and explained he had been teaching himself how to read and write using Asmo’s magazines. Asmo was clearly impressed by this, and was the first person to praise Satan for anything he had done, and asked him to read the book to him, sitting on the floor properly and inviting him to sit in his lap. Satan was more than happy to oblige, feeling his little heart swell with joy as he plopped himself down and started reading to Asmo the stories Belphie told him, as Asmo felt love for someone again, almost crying at the amount of comfort Satan had given him, for the first time sense falling, Asmo had found a bit of peace, allowing another piece of Lilith to fade away. As Satan presented his work to his other brothers, they were impressed, Belphie much more touched than he let on., and it was actually him that suggested that one of them take Satan to a library with more age-appropriate books, as the ones in the house were too mature for him. Satan was ecstatic and was finally starting to feel a bit more like a part of the family. 

It took a while for Levi to come home, partially because he didn’t even know where “home” was. However by the time Levi got home he was still struggling to control his sin, getting angry and jealous over Satan getting so much attention, inadvertently feeding into Satan’s power. Satan turned into his demon form, a sight that wasn’t new to the other brothers but concerning, as for the first time, he wasn’t crying, and it was just pure anger as Levi snapped at him for “taking his brothers away” and “you’re not a real part of this family, why should you get the love I deserve?!” Beel tried to calm Levi down as Asmo and Belphie tried Satan, but the damage was done and Satan wasn’t backing down this time. He ended up attacking Levi, leaving everyone panicking, not knowing how Levi would react and how far Satan would go. Beel was quick to pick Satan up, leaving a stunned Levi on the floor. He slowly got up, as Satan curled into Beel still in his demon form, crying angrily, not wanting to believe Levi’s words. Levi mumbled something under his breath and went to his room, holing up and relying on Beel to bring him food and water as he continued to pity himself. Satan needed a lot reassurance from his brothers he had connected with to make sure they weren’t going to push him away again, leave him alone again, and not say things like Levi had ever again. It wasn’t until Levi started to set things up for a pet that Satan felt like approaching him again. Levi had learned to control himself a bit better as well as felt bad for having said those things to Satan, and apologizing. Once Satan knew what kind of pet Levi was getting, and also found out that Levi read something called “manga”, he asked one of his brothers to take him to the library so he could grabs some manga as well as pick up food for the animal Levi was getting. Satan also picked up a book about raising the animal Levi was getting. He was adamant about taking it to Levi himself, his arms full of manga as he made his way to Levi’s room trying not to fall over. Levi was pleasantly surprised, and took a moment before realizing he should probably grab the stack before the child did actually fall over- Satan had asked about a certain book, caught off guard by himself as there was no way he should’ve known the title of a book when he didn’t even know that genre existed- Thank you Lilith. He had gotten a book that Levi had been in the middle of reading in the Celestial Realm, making him inexplicably happy. Levi ruffled his hair a bit as thanks and Satan smiled, happy that they had made up and resumed helping Levi set up the habitat. Levi told Satan he would help him find good manga for when he was old enough to read some of them. And with that, another piece of Lilith faded away.

Lucifer

Finally there was Lucifer. It wasn’t for a lack of trying on Satan’s part, since his creation, Lucifer was the one he felt the pull to most, but continuously was pushed away, Lucifer being “too busy”. What he didn’t know, was almost every time he left Lucifer, Lucifer would cry. He felt like a failure for having lost Lilith, and seeing Satan was salt in the wound as we was reminded of her every time. Satan felt unwanted, and started to build resentment for Lucifer, surely if he could get along with Levi he could eventually get along with the person who brought him into this world....right? However even once Lucifer started coming out of his office, whenever Lucifer looked down at Satan, even Satan could tell that there was something in his eyes that didn’t feel right, almost like disgust, when really, it was sadness. Satan stopped trying to get on Lucifer’s good side, despite what he felt was Lilith’s desperation. After a while, Lucifer finally felt ready to try and talk to Satan, to get to know him, but Satan still held that resentment and turned him away, telling him “you should have been the brother you are trying to be now...when I actually needed and wanted you.” 

Conclusion

There is a small part of Lilith still with Satan, but he has grown to the point of being his own person. Sometimes when Satan feels alienated for being the only demon-born brother, he gets an inexplicable feeling of comfort wash over him, at least he did before MC came. With MC there to kind of take Lilith’s place, Lilith was finally able to find rest, her unfinished business finally taken care of.

Anyways- thank you for reading, I hope you found this interesting!

Masterlist

[mandareeboo]

ok now im curious what your most petty thing is (regarding the dp post)

Oooh boy, here we go! Buckle up fuckers this is gonna be a longer one.

My senior year of high school, I took a creative writing class. Partially because I needed to fill the slot, mostly because I wanted to improve my writing (spoiler: I did not). Now, my high school was a three floor building- first was mostly gym, second was general, and the third was senior lockers and art classes. I spent a good chunk of my schedule senior year on the second and third floor, going between an art class to my earth science (I took that one entirely as filler, but also bc I like science) to my locker and so on.

Creative writing? Creative writing was in the fucking basement. Go to the first floor, go to a corner generally used for health and development classes, to another corner, follow a ramp and some stairs, and boom there it is kind of basement. (Side note but this teacher was REALLY into attendance and would get you in trouble if you were late which was really annoying since basically no other class was in that part of the building).

My creative writing teacher wasn't bad, per se. I've had worse teachers. I had an algebra teacher who delighted in making freshman girls cry and mocking them for it. I had a journalism teacher who would use her class time reporting how Hilary was secretly ill during the election. I had a history teacher say trans people weren't real to an openly gender nonconforming student (I didn't know them well enough to ask for specifics on their alignment, but they were using they/them at that point) and set up assignments just to mock students on the take they were told to make. It was more that she was uncreative and took it out on the kids doing creative writing.

She gave us two books to read. Basically “how I write” by published authors. I don’t remember the first one well enough and I donated it ages ago, but the second was Stephen King’s “On Writing”. It was 3/4′s personal stories about his life and 1/4′s “also write a bit every day”.  I mostly remember the first author bc she had those fake dreadlocks white people do when they destroy their hair and she gleefully told a story about making her son have a meltdown at a party or wedding or something bc he got overwhelmed and she wanted him to learn that “sometimes you don’t get what you want”. So. You know. Not much there.

She also instructed us to write in a journal every day, which she would check every few months or so. It had to be at least half a page. She would leave little comments in every one else’s journals when she checked them, but not mine- I realized pretty quickly she was a bit uncomfortable with LGBT+ content, so I made it my mission to make every journal drabble as gay as possible bc I was bored and she couldn’t mark them WRONG when she just stated we needed to write.

But it doesn’t end there! Through the entire class, we got exactly five writing projects. Stories that follow very specific guidelines that we would then read in front of the class, group proofread, and then have the teacher give final grades for. These things were approximately like a thousand words a piece, and I was writing out my 10,000 word “It Starts off Small” story in class when I got bored, so it wasn’t difficult. 

Our first project was a character going through a difficult decision. Or... something? I honestly forget the criteria. Anyway, I was HYPE. I’d had this idea for a long time now a human choosing between peaceful death or reincarnation, and this gave me the push to write it! I had a whole thing planned with death being a deer and reincarnation being a wolpertinger (bc reincarnation leads to many possibilities, ed boy, so a Frankenstein bunny made sense to me). Anyway I poured my heart and soul into this bastard and, bright eyed and bushy tailed, handed it in. My classmates all thought it was pretty good. Not to toot m’own horn, but there was some pretty bad ones going in, so I thought I’d get a solid B or something.

I got a D. I guess the struggle was too metaphorical, or it didn’t perfectly fit her criteria. I was devastated. Then I was mad. Bc I was a bored senior who thought they’d made something pretty decent for this completely optional class and her refusal to see that really hurt me at sixteen (I was always a year younger than my other classmates, so despite being a senior I didn’t turn eighteen until almost a year after graduation)

Well, fuck it, I decided. I’m going to parody the shit out of this class.

Our next project was a fantasy story. I was bitter and grumpy. The other fantasy stories read aloud were stuff like “yeah this dude fought a wizard and got a girl, then they went home and banged” (this was not hyperbole, he would’ve written and read the smut if allowed, I knew him personally) and “this girl that NO ONE UNDERSTOOD was called CRAZY but this S@!$ cheerleader who Stole Her Boyfriend so she killed them all” (fun fact: the girl who wrote that was my age and a sort of half-friend from middle school. She was a yaoi fangirl who didn’t mind lesbians as long as they, you know, didn’t FLIRT with her or something.) 

So I get up there. It’s the last day of presentations. And I present with a polite cheer. My story is about two magical shepherd type figures who are called Sister Brighten and Brother Dick as they chase down a werewolf who was drunk off his ass and accidentally bit someone else. They then revealed they were basically supernatural designated drivers for the whole town. I made Brighten mention that Dick’s name wasn’t even Richard. I titled it “His Favorite Brand is Grayhound”. It fit every single criteria. I got an A. I could tell she didn’t want to, because there was no comments or anything like everyone else’s, but she had to follow her own criteria.

Our third was a conjoined effort thing so I didn’t pull any fuckery there, but the fourth one was about common myths and spinning them into real or fake. One girl did the hook-handed door handle thing and the boyfriend ended up above his truck hanging (somehow???). I think someone did the age-old adage of a haunted wedding dress? I kind of read through those presentations. 

Now, I’m salty-salty at this point. I wasn’t expecting His Favorite Brand is Grayhound to get me a good grade. I half-assed a lot of it. I am in full Not Happy Teenager at this point. I grab a daddy long leg and settle in.

My fourth story of the year is “Paperskin.”

Paperskin is about a boy named Billy with the thinnest skin membrane ever. Just full on body horror. You could see his teeth behind his lips. Billy gets bored one day and wanders out of his house, tries to kick a soccer ball, and breaks a leg. As he’s laying in the grass a daddy long leg bites him- and his skin is so flimsy the fangs sink in and he dies. I’m actually still pretty proud of Paperskin. It’s a horrifying, Edgar Allen Poe of a monstrosity, but it made people squirm, which was the point. The teacher is clearly a bit unnerved at this point, but she gives me another A. 

I wrote a more “normal” story after that of a contentious objector forced to house kids going to see if any confirmed soldier deaths were any of their parents as my final one and I could feel her spite as she gave me a B.

So, yeah. That’s the story of when I tormented my creative writing teacher with The Gays and my weird ass sense of humor after she called one of my best works at that age a piece of shit.

 Here’s a google drive of these bad boys, because yes I do still have these things. I turned these fuckers in for grades, people.

[mediocre-writerr]

don’t blame me [emily prentiss]

emily prentiss x fem reader

requested: i have a emily prentiss request! reader and emily have been fighting and something happens to the both of them and they make up at the end

“Emily please!” you placed your head in your hands as you were having yet another argument in your shared apartment.

You took a deep breath as she started yelling again, “What Y/N?! Are you cheating on me with Spencer?” 

“What?” you ask, giving her an incredulous look. 

“You two have been awfully close lately.” she points out.

Spencer has always been your best friend. Ever since you joined the BAU together and being the youngest out of the pack. The two of you grew an instant bond despite all of his annoying knowledge. 

“We’ve always been close Em! Do you really not trust me that much?” you ask, looking up at her. 

She just stood there unsure of what to say. But the silence said it all, she didn’t trust you. 

“We’ve been dating for almost a year now and you don’t trust me. Got it.” you whisper, getting up to pack an overnight bag. 

Emily didn’t say anything. She just stood there and watched. Tears stinging her eyes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work. I’ll be at JJ’s.” you whisper, leaving the apartment.

Emily didn’t know what to say. She was running thoughts through her mind. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. This was the longest relationship she’s ever been in (Doyle does not count). 

I guess she was scared. She didn’t want to ruin it so she was self-exploding the relationship herself. Making Y/N hate her until she eventually runs off so she doesn’t have to deal with the pain of Y/N breaking up with her on her own.

You found yourself at JJ and Will’s house, knocking on their front door. 

JJ opened the door confused, but with a small smile on her face, “Y/N, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” 

“Emily and I got into another fight. She thinks I’m cheating on her with Spence.” you say, “Can I stay here tonight?” 

“Of course. Come in, we can talk more about it here.” she whispers. 

Will comes down the stairs, “Hey Y/N, it’s nice to see you again...” 

He continued talking, but you couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. So you stuck with the pleasantries, “It’s good to see you too.” 

JJ poured the two of you a glass of wine as you curled up onto the couch. Henry came running into your lap when he saw you on the way to say goodnight to his mom. 

“Hey bud!” you say ruffling his blonde hair. 

“Hi.” he whispers meekly as you gave him a squeeze. 

You smile at the boy as he hugs his mom goodnight. 

You start to explain everything to her from the past week of the two of you just going at each other’s throats. And even though you were a part of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you had a hard time reading Emily. 

Or anyone who wasn’t a killer/kidnapper/arsonist. 

“Y/N, remember that this is her first actual long-term relationship?” JJ says giving her a piece of the puzzle and you nod not understanding her point, “And you know that her relationships haven’t quite worked out in the past?”

“Mhm, I don’t see your point.” you say, completely clueless.

“You do work the BAU correct?” JJ asks laughing. 

You roll your eyes softly, “Duh.” 

“I think you should talk to her. Just ask her what’s going on and go from there.” she suggests and you nod, “Get some rest, we don’t know when Hotch is gonna call.” 

You didn’t understand what JJ was trying to get at. Emily was the best thing that ever happened to you and you would never break her heart in anyway. But the past few days she’s been breaking your heart.

Something she always promised she wouldn’t do.

As JJ expected not even three hours into your sleep, you were woken up by a phone call from Hotch talking about some unsub in Newport, Rhode Island. 

The two of you slowly got ready as the lack of sleep the two of you were experiencing was apparent. JJ drove you two to the BAU headquarters. As you exited the elevator Penelope held a drink carrier in her hand full of hot coffee.

“Thank you.” you whisper to Penelope, shooting her a grateful smile and patting her back. 

As you went into the briefing room, Emily was already sitting there next to Derek. Spencer was also sitting there across from Em with a small smile on his face. 

You walked around the table greeting everyone. You ruffled Spence’s shaggy hair, and fist bumped Derek. Purposefully, avoiding Emily. You didn’t want to talk to her if she doesn’t even trust you. You took the spot next to JJ as you waited for Hotch to come in to give the background. 

“Hello everyone, sorry about the lack of sleep tonight, but this is the fifth death this week.” Hotch says stifling his own yawn, “We have Peter Taylor, age 34, single with no kids. Blunt force trauma to the head before being shot in the heart.” 

Hotch goes over the rest of the victims going all the way to the very beginning. All of them had the same MO’s: blunt force trauma and being shot in the heart. They were also men around the same age. 

He was about to continue on as everyone pitched ideas for what kind of killer this unsub may be, but Hotch got a call. He stepped out of the room and as we waited, Spence kicked your leg softly from under the table. 

Sliding you a note from his notebook: Are you and Em okay?

You quickly wrote down a response: Honestly, no. 

That’s all you put. He read it trying to study, both you and her. Emily noticed the little exchange of notes that was passed. It was enough to make her feel insecure about her own state. Passing notes like they were back in elementary school. 

But maybe this was for the best, Emily thought. 

“Alright guys, we gotta go, there was another body found.” Hotch says, “Wheels up, like now.”

“His killing time is shortening which means he’s gonna go out of control.” Derek says and we all look at each other with determination in our eyes. 

All of you headed onto the plane in a flash. Every time you were on the plane you took the spot next to Emily. It was a little thing the two of you did, basking in the comfort and the safety of each other before going out into the dangerous field. 

Sort of like a good luck charm.

But this time was different. Emily waited for you expectedly to take the seat next to her, but you didn’t. You took a seat by yourself, away from the rest of the group. The entire team eyed each other, all of them concerned at the couple’s behavior recently.

You put your headphones drowning out the rest of the noise, trying to get much sleep as possible. 

When you arrived in Newport, the air was cool as the costal breeze hit your hair. The smell of the salty sea filling your nostrils. You loved being along the coast, it was one of your favorite things. 

It brought you calmness and peace. 

You and the rest of the team got to work as you reached the police station. Hotch paired the team off as per usual, pairing you and Em to go check out the most recent body. 

The two of you walked together in silence, neither of you knew what to say. It wasn’t the comfortable silence the two of you have while lying in bed watching whatever was on the TV. It was an awkward silence of you at your breaking point in the relationship, not understanding what’s wrong. 

“Blunt force to the head, shot to the heart. This is an act of our guy.” Emily says softly, the first time that you were speaking since last night. 

You looked down at the body and noticed a little paper sticking out of his pocket. Picking it up with your glove, you opened it as it read three simple words.

Don’t Blame Me

“Don’t blame me?” you say, more of a rhetorical question than anyone else. 

“What?” she asks.

You hand her the note, “It says don’t blame me.” I whisper.

The handwriting didn’t look a man’s handwriting. It was neat and polished. Men’s handwriting are usually messy and sometimes illegible. 

You start to walk away from the scene finished with the crime scene, leaving her behind. When Em notices you’re gone she immediately starts running after you.

“Y/N!” she yells, finally catching up to you and spinning you to face her, “What’s the matter with you?” she asks.

You scoff in response, “Tell me why.” 

“Why what?!” she asks, yelling, frustrated with how cold you’re being to her.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“Y/N I-” she paused struggling for what else to say, but nothing was coming out.

She was left speechless, just like she was when you left the night before. 

You nod, “Never mind. Come talk to me when you’re ready.” you whisper, disappointedly. 

As the day went on you learned more and more about the unsub. The team gathered more clues and realized that all of the victims were connected to one women. 

Hayley Nolan, a bartender at the famous bar in town. She was 26 and very popular with the guys and gals around town. 

Whoever this unsub was targeted all of the men who flirted with her. She wasn’t married or had any kids. But she was in a relationship with a one Matthew Grimes. 

We interrogated Matthew, but checked all of his alibi’s that he was at work every night of the attacks. 

You and the team were in Hayley’s home, making sure to keep a cop with her at all times. When you took a look around the house as you watched the time go by, you realized that Matthew still wasn’t back yet.

“Hayley? Where did Matthew say he was going?” you ask as you entered the living room again. 

She shook her head trying to remember, “He said he was going to the gym, but that was a couple hours ago.”

All of you shared nervous glances as you realized that he was probably in danger right now. Reid and JJ come bursting into the room, “We found out who the unsub is.”

“Hayley, does the name Taylor Hunt ring a bell?” Reid asks as he sits down on one of the chairs in the living area. 

Hayley nods softly, “Yeah. She’s one of the regulars at the bars.”

“Does she ever seem protective when someone tries to flirt with you?” you ask.

“Yeah, all the time. I always thank her for it by giving her free drink. Why?” and then it all starts piecing together for her, “Oh my gosh. You don’t think she-” 

JJ squeezes her hand softly, “You see Taylor is living in her own little fantasy world. Making her believe that you’re flirting with her and want to be with her. When in reality you’re just being nice. So she kills off anyone who she thinks is a threat.” 

“We need to find Matthew now.” Derek says sternly. 

You and him run out of the house and into one of the vans. Driving your way as quickly as possible to the gym.

Your phone started to ring and you answered it, your eyes scanning the road you were driving on, “Police called and said they’re inside the gym. Hostage situation. Me and Prentiss are right behind you.” Hotch says. 

Making your way into the gym, the two of you noticed that you Hotch and Emily were already in there. Both of them had their guns away so both of you put your guns away. 

When Taylor saw us come into the room, she pointed her gun towards us. But Emily was quick to intervene.

“Hey, it’s okay. They won’t hurt you. I know how you feel.” Emily says softly, trying to get through to her. 

“You do?” Taylor asks.

Emily nods and you were intrigued at where she was going with this, “I know how it feels to love someone so much you’re scared everyday that you’re gonna lose them. Everyone is so intrigued by them and they’re so beautiful and funny that you can’t help but feel that she’ll choose someone else.”

Your tilt your head to the side as Emily makes a quick side glance to you.

“But the difference is that you’re stronger than me. You’re trying to protect what you have with Hayley. I tend to just cause useless fights because I’m scared that they’ll break my heart. So instead of being surprised by the heartbreak, I explode our relationship.” Emily adds on. 

And everything finally starts clicking. Everything JJ was trying to say, all of it.

“Now you don’t want to do that so if you really love Hayley, I need you to put the gun down. And let Matthew go.” she whispers.

Taylor lets out a quiet sob before putting down the gun and letting Matthew go. Em goes over to her and puts her hand behind her back, handcuffing her. Hotch takes her to the cop car while Morgan tends to Matthew’s wounds. 

You ran over to your girlfriend embracing her in a huge hug. She holds you close and tight, like she’s afraid that you might walk away again.

Taking your hand you place it underneath her chin to get her to look at you, “I love you. And I am never gonna break your heart. I promise.” 

[onechicago-upsteadrhekker]

breathe again (the air i would kill to breathe)--upstead one-shot

So, I wrote some more angst. You can blame @imjustwritingg and @anniesardors because we are now in an angst competition and this is my submission. I think I might win.

As strange as it might be, I actually had a lot of fun writing this. I also cried and have been deeply in my feels for the better part of the past few months as I wrote on this. I do have happier things in the works, but I don’t think I could ever not write angst so there is your warning I suppose.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to hear what you think!

Title is taken from Sara Bareilles’s Breathe Again. I like the Sleeping At Last cover!

Read on AO3

They are sitting in one of their new favorite places to decompress after a long day of working or just when they needed to have a good chat, partner to partner, friend to friend.

The bar was cozy, and it already held some of Jay’s favorite memories from past visits with Hailey—his birthday celebration with just the two of them, Hailey’s four-year anniversary of joining Intelligence, a place they went when they did not want to be interrupted by their other friends.

A place that was special to just them.

Jay could not help but think that she looked particularly beautiful tonight sitting across from him in the low-lit bar, the Christmas lights shining through the window highlighting her features.

She was not dressed fancy, in her usual winter outfit of a button-down and skinny jeans with her sturdy snow boots, but the way her eyes sparkled merrily as she laughed, her smile lighting up the room in a way he has not seen from her in far too long makes him marvel at how effortless her beauty truly was.

She is laughing at him with that big smile of hers as he jokingly brings up the reason why they came here tonight trying to mask the nerves he was feeling.

He listens to her tell him about her job offer with a sinking stomach, desperately trying to act calm and collected instead of revealing the panic that was currently raging inside of his chest.

He pays the check, his heart beating wildly with relief because she just told him she was staying.

He is looking at her now and they are talking about losing and gaining and he cannot figure out if they are talking about them or something else entirely. His gut says them, and he is waiting with bated breath for Hailey to say whatever he knows she wants to say but then she does not, and he is watching her walk out of the bar.

An hour ago, this was his favorite bar because of the memories with Hailey it held.

Now, he is pretty sure he will only remember this place as the one where he let the girl get away.

*

He notices the way she quickly glances at him before she accepts the small piece of paper that was being handed to her.

They had run by the courthouse to hurry along a warrant and now he is waiting on Hailey to catch up with him because she had been stopped by the judge.

He was new and around their age.

He was also nice, charming and good-looking and he was starting to rub Jay the wrong way.

Over the past several months when Intelligence needed a warrant it was somehow always signed by this guy. When he and Hailey needed to come to the courthouse for whatever reason, they always happened to bump into him.

Jay frowned when Hailey chuckled in response of whatever was called after her as she started to make her way back across the lobby towards him.

He gives her a look when she falls into step next to him and she glances at him, staying quiet until they are back in the truck on their way to the district.

Jay cannot stand it anymore. He adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, “So, what was that all about?”

Hailey glances at him again and it reminds him of the way she looked at him before she told him about her FBI offer not even a month ago.

“Uh, he gave me his number,” She was looking everywhere but him and Jay did his best to control his emotions.

It fell quiet again and Jay did not like the awkwardness that seemed to descend upon them.

It had never been awkward with her before, and he does not like the idea of it happening now.

He clears his throat, keeping his eyes on the road, “Did he ask you out?”

She gives a curt nod, still fidgeting entirely too much with the radio in her hands, “Yes.”

“What did you say?” He dreads the answer.

“I said yes,” It was barely a whisper and when he looks over at her, she is already looking at him, her eyes telling him she was tired of waiting on him to make a move.

He quickly looks away again, closing his eyes hard for a brief moment before whipping into the roll-up and swinging into his parking spot.

“He has me to answer to if he doesn’t treat you the way you deserve.”

Jay is out of the truck without a second glance, slamming his door shut and rapidly wiping away the tears that were gathering in his eyes.

*

Hailey starts to date the judge and by all rights, the guy is perfect.

He has a well-paying job, he is good looking and he has a great personality.

Jay tries to find faults in him, but he cannot. He wanted to hate him, but when Jay first met him, he had received a hearty handshake and a heartfelt thank you for watching Hailey’s back.

As much as he wanted to, he could not hate him. Apparently when Hailey had told her new boyfriend how close she was with her male partner, he was more than understanding of their relationship and would not be put out from the time they spent time together.

How could he hate someone who respected the time Hailey spent with him, another guy who already spent her whole workday with.

So, Jay decides to hate the way her name clashes with his. Mike and Hailey.  Hailey and Mike. They do not go together at all.

Not like his name fit with hers. Jay and Hailey—Detectives Halstead and Upton. Hailey and Jay—Detectives, partners, best friends; nothing more.

But then maybe he hates the way they fit even more because all it does is remind him of something they should have had but for some reason never did.

He thinks that they were meant to be together, but then he thinks that if it has not happened by now then maybe it was never meant to be.

*

“Hailey, are you sure you’re okay?”

Jay is standing, facing her with his arms crossed and a worried brow.

She sighs, “Yes, Jay, for the thousandth time, I am fine. It’s barely even a scratch.”

He lets out a disbelieving scoff and approaches the bed where she is sitting with her legs folded underneath her. She tries not to gasp when he gently touches the side of her face, turning it slightly to inspect the long gash running across her forehead and to the top of her ear.

“You’re not fine, Hailey. You could have died,” His voice cracks and he sounds like a desperate man, pleading and scared.

It is his tears that makes hers start to well up and she tentatively wraps her fingers around the wrist of the hand that was now borderline caressing her cheek.

She looks earnestly, desperately into his glossy green eyes, “But I didn’t because you saved me.”

He is standing very close to her, and she can feel his breath ghosting over her face as he looks down at her, his large hand holding the side of her face as they stare into each other’s eyes. She swears he glances down at her lips.

Her heart is beating erratically inside her chest, waiting for him to close the distance between them but then the curtain is thrown back and Jay moves faster than she thinks she has ever seen.

It is Mike and Hailey instantly feels bad at the way she is disappointed to see him. At the way she wishes he had not come, but he is her boyfriend, and he has every right to be there with her because she knows he loves her.

Mike’s hand is now where Jay’s was just seconds ago, and it does not feel nearly as comforting and good and right as Jay’s did, but she is not supposed to have those feelings anymore, so she tries to ignore them and leans into Mike.

“Oh my God, Hailey,” He breaths out in concern, “Are you all right? The nurse called me and told me you got hurt on the job.”

She tries to give him a convincing smile.

She is not all right but she cannot tell him that because it has nothing to do with gash on her head.

Hailey reaches out and touches his chest, “I’m fine. Jay was watching my back.”

Mike seems to realize that they are not alone and turns to face Jay, reaching out a sincere hand, “Thank you for protecting her.”

Jay shakes his head and takes Mike’s hand, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job.”

He glances at Hailey so quick that only she notices it and she gets what he is saying. He never wants the thanks because it is just a given for him. He will always protect her or die trying and nothing will ever change that.

He flashes a smile at Mike who is none the wiser of what he just told Hailey with his eyes and excuses himself, quickly slipping out of the sliding glass door as he lets the tears fall.

*

It is dark in the corner of Molly’s he had retreated to away from all the commotion that was happening around the bar.

He watches Hailey beam at her girlfriends who were trying to get a closer look at her displayed left hand, and he slinks back farther in his chair, picking at the label of his untouched beer.

He always had a hard time drinking without Hailey and she was busy right now.

Adam, Kevin and Voight are patting Mike on the back in a congratulatory manner and while Jay knows it is irrational, he feels somewhat betrayed by his closest friends.

He wishes that they were clapping him on the back in congratulations instead and that he was in the center of attention along with Hailey, but he forces himself to recognize that it is his fault that things are unfolding this way.

He’d had chances but he never thought Hailey would actually settle down with this man he despised for the sole reason that he was not him.

Jay fully recognized he was a fool for thinking he did not have to work for her. He knew he was a fool for thinking she would eventually break-up with Mike, and he would be waiting for her and then they would live happily ever after like some damn fairy tale romance.

He knew better than that.

Picking at the fraying label again, Jay sees Hailey flash around the diamond on her finger and he cannot help but think of the ring that he bought on a whim after seeing it in a local storefront.

He had randomly seen it one day and thought that if he were ever to propose to someone, he wanted it to be with that ring.

He had seen it and he had immediately thought of Hailey.

He does not know why he bought it, but he did, and he now knows that it will never be given to the person it was intended for.

The ring flashes and Jay thinks his ring would look better on her finger.

Hailey beams and Jay thinks her smile is not as bright as it used to be.

He takes a sip of his now lukewarm beer and Jay thinks he should probably get used to drinking without Hailey.

*

“Come in.”

He opens the door and cannot help but gasp.

She looks beautiful.

Her hair pinned out of her face, blonde curls cascading down her back, a veil clipped in place with a sparkling barrette. Her dress is elegant but simple and it fit Hailey perfectly.

She is standing in front of a tall full-length mirror, admiring her reflection when she turns to softly smile at him, “What’re you doing in here?”

He notices Kim crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes as she stands off to the side getting herself ready, “No boys allowed.”

He has to tear his gaze away from Hailey to glance at her, “Yeah, well, I had to come see my best friend before she became a married woman.”

Kim’s eyes soften and Hailey looks over at her, gently nodding towards the door, “Could you give us a few minutes?”

“Of course,” She gives them both a look like she knows they are about to close a chapter that they never got right before she disappears out the door.

Jay clears his throat, “You look absolutely stunning, Hailey.”

Her cheeks flush and she gives him a once over, picking up the skirt of her dress to approach him, stopping only a few inches in front of him. Reaching out, she quickly straightens his bowtie and takes a step back, cocking her head with an affectionate smile, “And you look very handsome.”

She meets his eyes, blue on green and he cannot help but just stare because after this, she is Mike’s forever and always and it would not be right to stare at her like he wants her.

Somehow, he does not think that her being married will stop him from wanting her, but he will try.

He is drinking her in like this is the last time he is seeing her and in a way it is. This is the last time where he can look at her with the hope of someday being more.

There are so many things left unsaid and he can see his own anguish reflecting back at him; hopes and promises and dreams swimming in her eyes, fading away with each passing second. A future that could have been theirs and will now only stay alive in quiet imaginings and forbidden dreams.

He could tell her. Right here and right now. That he loved her. That they could work. That he never wants to be without her, but it was her wedding day, and he could not do that to her.

He was too late, and it would not be fair for him to beg for her now when she had already given him every opportunity.

So, he accepted the gentle kiss she bestowed on his cheek, and he looked back into her watery eyes, heartbroken and sad.

They stared into each other’s eyes and a thousand memories of laughing and crying and comfortable silences and shared looks flooded in like a painful smile because he was the guest, and she was the bride.

*

The first time they rolled up to a crime scene after she and Mike tied the knot was one that would stay with him but not because the case they’d caught was gruesome or personal.

It was because of her.

She looked the same. She talked the same. She had that same bright smile and brilliant sparkle in her eye, but it was different now.

She was a married woman and the person that came back from her honeymoon was a slightly different person than he knew—a person he would never get to know because only her husband was privy to the person she was behind closed doors.

And he was not her husband and that crushed him almost to the point of not being able to function.

Jay never knew he could grieve so much for a person who was still by his side every day.

He tries to ignore the simple wedding band she wore now and thinks if he could just pretend she wasn’t married then their days would be no different. He could still have that intimate partnership with her and maybe he could imagine for a little while that they were just perpetually on the precipice of something more even though he knew nothing could ever happen now.

But then they were there, at the first crime scene where he was Jay, the single partner and she was Hailey, the married one.

Nodding at the patrol officer, he introduced himself, “Detective Halstead,” he then gestured to Hailey, “This is Detective Upton.”

She glanced at him, and he shook his head. Right, not Detective Upton.

“I mean Detective Martin.”

He curses himself and tries not to look too sick at the now constant reminder she was not and never will be his as he watched his newly married partner, Hailey Anne Martin walk off with the patrol officer.

He could not help but think his own last name sounded much better with hers than Mike’s did.

Jay forces himself to follow them with the sounds of Hailey Anne Halstead echoing in the back of his mind—taunting him, reminding him of the future he had just lost for good.

*

Almost a year later, when Hailey disappeared into Voight’s office looking a little unsure and maybe even a little sad, he was scared he was about to lose the only thing keeping them together now.

But when she announced her pregnancy a few weeks later, the subtle shifts in her behavior suddenly made sense, his heart dropping to his feet. He put on a smile for her, but it was hard when her smile held that same sadness and regret it had on her wedding day.

If the dreams haunting him for weeks after that were of little feet and giggling faces that had her features mixed in with his, well.

He would never admit it.

*

“Hi.”

She looks up, a dulled sparkle in her eye, “Hey.”

He nods to the bundle in her arms, afraid to get too close and see the baby that looks nothing like him and a lot like Mike, “What’s his name?”

She smiles, happy but there is still something in her expression that is achingly sad, “Meet Jay Robert Martin.”

He blinks. An odd lump forming in his throat, “Really?”

She chuckles a little at that and nods her head, “Yes, really.”

He blinks again, “Why?”

She shrugs, “Because you’ve saved my life more times than I can count and I—"

She hesitates. She was going to say it, he could see it in her eyes, but she settles for the phrase, “And because I care a lot about you” instead.

She named the baby after him. He is honored, but inside he is devastated because that could have been his son in her arms bearing his name.

Instead of being called daddy, he would be called Uncle much like the rest of the unit and if that did not break his heart more than it was already broken.

He is happy for her, truly, but he knows that some part of him is always going to see the life where he is Hailey’s husband and the father of her children.

And sometimes he cannot help but think Hailey sees that too.

*

She’s there.

Standing in the back, smiling at him and he wishes that she were standing next to him, but that was not her place, and it had not really ever been hers regardless of how much he wished it.

He shakes Voight’s hand and then turns to shake the Superintendent’s outstretched grip, graciously accepting the round of applause from the audience, blushing at his teammates hoots and hollers.

He walks off the stage and is vaguely aware of the congratulations and hearty slaps he was receiving. He responds with the proper amount of enthusiasm, but his eyes are always looking at her.

Excusing himself, he leaves the group, missing the way they all exchange a melancholy look of understanding. One they have exchanged many times before.

He approaches her and he notices the way her smile does not fully reach her eyes and he is always wondering if she also imagines a universe in which they are all there together and happy and one big family.

“Sergeant Jay Halstead,” She hums out, her smile growing into a warm smirk, “I have to admit, it has a nice ring to it.”

She is loving and affectionate and she is looking at him with all the feelings she is not supposed to have, and he can feel his throat closing up.

He forces out a quick grin, “Thanks.”

She is still looking at him, her eyes holding everything she cannot say aloud, and Jay tries to come up with something to say because he cannot take her looking at him like this. Not today. Not right now.

Not ever, really.

“I uh, I thought you weren’t going to make it,” He furrows his brows, “Didn’t Robby have a game tonight?”

Hailey shakes her head, her smile turning a little sadder, “I wasn’t about to miss my partner getting a promotion.”

She looks away for a brief second before looking back at him and Jay thinks he can see the glisten of tears in her eyes, “Although I guess you’re my Sergeant now, not my partner anymore.”

Tears sting his own eyes and his heart squeezes tight in his chest.

She is right.

They are not partners anymore. He just got a promotion; Intelligence is his and now he is her sergeant.

He should be excited but he’s not. He’s mourning the loss of the only thing that’s keeping them together now and it hurts so bad because he is losing her.

He is always losing her with each day that passes.

*

“She’s beautiful, Mike.”

The other man grins, “Yeah, we like her all right.”

Jay smiles but his heart is not in it.

Like always, he is touched that Hailey includes him in her big life events and like always, he is truly happy for her, but it also serves as a painful reminder of the life he wanted to have with her.

He is grateful to be in Hailey’s life at all and he would not give up the relationship they have now for anything, but he also thinks that it is some kind of cruel punishment that he is constantly forced to watch her love and grow a family with a man that is not him.

“And did you see those dimples?” Mike has a dreamy look on his face and his eyes shone proudly, “Perfect just like her mother’s.”

Yes, Jay thinks, perfect just like Hailey.

He clears his throat, tired of the way he always seems to tear up while he is with Hailey and her family because everything reminds him of the deep regrets he has been carrying around for years now.

“I like the name Annie,” He says trying to keep the conversation flowing so they do not lapse into an uncomfortable silence like they are prone to do.

He has never been close to Hailey’s husband and Jay knows this is because he is in love with the man’s wife. On some level, Jay thinks that Mike is aware of this and that is why neither of them have ever tried.

In any case, Jay does not think he could ever really be friends with anyone who is married to the girl he loves.

Mike shifts his weight to lean against the banister making the old porch creak slightly, “It was my great-grandmother’s name. We also liked it because it is similar to Hailey’s middle name.”

Jay nods absentmindedly and thinks about how lucky that little girl is to have Hailey as a mom. He always thought she would make a great mother regardless of who fathered the children, and he was right.

If he were to ever have children, he would only want Hailey as their mother and that is how he knows he will never have children.

“It means a lot to Hailey that you are here tonight,” Mike breaks the silence and Jay glances at him from his place sitting on their porch steps.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” He manages a sincere smile because he is telling the truth.

He would not miss welcoming Hailey’s daughter into the world even if it did hurt.

“She loves you, you know.”

Jay feels his heart stop in his chest and his mouth dry up, “What?” It came out garbled and he is looking at Mike like he just grew antlers.

Mike’s eyes meet his and Jay is shocked to see the depth of knowledge in the other man’s gaze.

He cannot help think that perhaps he was not as subtle as he thought he was regarding his feelings for Hailey.

“And I know you love her so I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”

He cannot come up with a proper response.

Or any type of response really because he is still gaping speechless at Mike who is now staring off into the night sky.

“We’re just partners,” The statement falls off his lips in a conditioned response.

It is the words he always used to describe his and Hailey’s relationship back when friends and family gave him knowing looks and teasing smiles. He has not had anyone question his feelings for Hailey in a long time and he feels slightly panicked that it is happening now and by her husband no less.

Mike shakes his head, scoffing lightly as he looks back into the night sky, “I don’t think you two were ever just partners. I’ve known that from the very beginning, but I liked Hailey and I wanted to be with her as long as she would stay with me.”

Jay blinks and he does not know what to say or how to react. He does not know where this is going, and he does not like not knowing.

“I know a part of her will always love you, but I love her enough to be with her on any terms even if that means not having her whole heart,” Mike sighs, pausing for a brief second, “I won’t lie and say that it doesn’t hurt at times, but I know how lucky I am that I even got her at all.”

Jay just stares at him, finally managing to get out a “Why?”

Why is he telling him this? Why now?

Mike seems to understand what he is asking, and he turns to face him, “She doesn’t say anything about it obviously, but I know it’s getting harder and harder for her to see you; to work with you every day.”

Jay definitely does not like where this is going.

Mike looks directly in his eyes and there is a hard edge there that he has never seen from the man before, “I know she has more than enough experience to make Sergeant, but she doesn’t want to take the test because she thinks you need her. You are holding her back, Jay, and I think it is time that you let her make a life for herself outside of Intelligence.”

All he can do is stare at the man. He wants to rail and shout and tell him that he cannot dictate what Hailey does with her life or tell him what to do but some part of him deep down knows that Mike is right.

Maybe it is time to let her go but it is so hard because he is not ready to give her up.

And it hurts too. God, it hurts so bad, and he thinks that it will always hurt because he knows what he and Hailey had was real and true, but their timing was just always off.

His heart is breaking because even though he is not with Hailey in the way he wants, she is still the best thing in his life and the thought of giving that up makes him physically sick.

He is aware of Mike moving towards the front door. He pauses and looks over his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Jay.”

He is left on the porch, and he can hear little giggles from inside the house. Hailey is laughing and there is a squeal of ‘daddy’, and he imagines Mike is swinging Robby up into the air.

It is too painful, and he thinks it will only get more painful as time goes by.

*

There are bright flashes and enthusiastic applause as he waits to shake her hand after the superintendent.

She turns to him. He is smiling at her but there are tears in his eyes. She is carrying herself proudly but there is anguish written all over her face.

They are both torn. He wants her to succeed in everything, but he does not want to lose her. She wants to advance her career, but she does not want to leave him.

They stood there, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it was the kind of nothing that meant everything.

The world spins obliviously around them as they become strangers who share long lost memories and quick smiles every once in a while.

*

It is a peaceful night out, the air humid and warm and it feels like the perfect summer night. The sun has almost disappeared over the horizon, a soft glow painting the trees and the houses along the street.

He is sitting alone on the porch steps listening to the chaos that is happening through the screen door and when he hears it swing open, he does not need to turn to see who it is because he already knows.

She sits down beside him, leaving a few feet of space in between them and does not say anything, just stares into the dusky night.

“I can’t believe Annie’s already thirteen.”

Jay glances at her before clasping his hands over his knees, nodding thoughtfully, “It seems like just yesterday she was born.”

Hailey scoffs, “Tell me about it. I don’t feel old enough to have two teenagers.”

He looks back over at her. She is still staring off into nothing in particular and Jay cannot help but notice once again just how beautiful she is. Her hair is still golden blonde, and her complexion looks as young as ever, the laugh lines around her eyes only making her seem more youthful.

“You certainly don’t look it,” It just slips out and he cannot help the way his stomach flutters when he sees her cheeks flush like they used to when he flirted with her in the truck over fifteen years ago before Hailey was a wife and a mother and nothing more than his friend and partner.

They fall silent again, each watching the night become dark as they listen to the happy teenage squeals that are coming from within the house.

“Do you regret it?” She says suddenly and he glances at her, her gaze still far away.

He sucks in a breath, “What?’

She shrugs, “I don’t know,” She shakes her head, “Everything?”

He is quiet for a long moment, and he does not have to ask to know what she means.

Hailey is about to tell him to just forget it, that it was a silly question but then he opens his mouth, and she shuts hers, the tears already starting to prick her eyes as the feelings that have never dulled over the years come to the surface.

“Just because things didn’t happen between us the way that we maybe wanted doesn’t mean that you aren’t the best thing that has ever happened to me. Because you were.”

It is the closest they have ever gotten to talking about this thing that has been between them from almost the very beginning and Hailey suddenly feels transported to a day in the past when she thought one of their moments was about to turn into something more and change her life forever.

But then she remembers she is married and has two children, and she cannot have a life with Jay.

She blinks, “Yeah,” She looks at him with glistening eyes, “You were for me too.”

*

The church is packed with people in uniform and Jay is once again awed at Hank Voight’s reach within the city. The damn mayor was even there.

He is serving as a pallbearer along with Kevin, Kim, Adam and of course, Hailey. It is fitting that they are the ones chosen to do this because they were the ones chosen by the man himself to be in his unit and they are the ones who lasted the longest.

Jay would wager a bet that they were all more like family to Voight than he would have ever admitted, and he thinks that they all know that deep in their hearts so that is why they are doing this—to give their sergeant one last send off.

To say thank you for bringing them together and creating this family that they never would have had if it had not been for him.

“Jay,” Kevin taps his upper arm to get his attention, nodding towards the double doors in the back of the church and that is when he sees her.

She is dressed nearly identical to him, give or take a few medals and even though he would not call the CPD uniform blues highly fashionable, Hailey wears it like she has just stepped off a magazine cover.

Her eyes find his and she gives him a sad little smile like she knows that this is yet another chapter of their past closing. With each ending, the memories and the laughter and the comfortable silences are drifting away and truly becoming a thing of the past.

In a way, it almost feels like a whole lifetime ago.

She is in front of him now and they say nothing because their eyes say all they need to know. Sighing, he glances down at the floor with a heaviness he has not felt in a long time before he looks up and draws her into a hug.

He does not remember the last time he hugged her. He thinks maybe it was after she had Annie, but he tries to refrain from any physical contact with her because he is always left with wanting more.

Today, he knows they both need it, so he gives in and squeezes her tight.

The Intelligence unit they know is slowly starting to die and it hurts more than words could say.

It might sound dramatic, but it almost feels like the end of an era.

*

Cork and Kerry had not changed much over the years.

It was somewhat of a comfort to see some things stayed the same, but mostly, it felt like his heart was in a vice because when he looked around, he was brought right back to the moment when Hailey was telling him about her FBI offer and he was watching her walk out the door and away from a life that should have been there’s.

He sees her sitting there, her jacket thrown over the back of her seat like it had been all those years ago and even though she is clearly much older, all he can see is her bright smile and sparkling blue eyes.

“Jay,” She says it softly and he cannot help but return the gentle smile she is giving him, “You made it.”

He sits down, “Like I would ever miss this. Besides, what else is there to do?”

She smirks, “Jay Halstead getting a little bored in his retirement and old age?”

Rolling his eyes, he gives her a knowing look, “You know I never could handle not being on the job without getting restless.”

“Jay,” She lets out a little laugh, “It’s been twelve years.”

“Exactly,” He stresses, and she just shakes her head.

“You seriously need a hobby or something other than sitting around with an itchy trigger finger,” She is teasing him but there is also a hint of concern in her voice, and he knows she worries that he is lonely.

He is lonely but it is his own fault because the only person he would want to spend any time with is her and even though they both grew old, they did not do it together, so he has no wife, and he has no children.

He offers a smile and tries not to look as sad as he feels, “I did clean out my attic recently,” He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a well-worn photograph, “And actually, I found this. I thought you might want to see it.”

He slides it across the table, and she reaches for it. He watches as she studies the picture, a melancholy look coming over her face as she gently touches the picture, whispering almost to herself, “We were so young.”

It is a picture of the whole team after what he is pretty sure was a successful raid but what draws him to the picture is the way that Hailey is leaning on him. She has her head on his chest and the grins on their faces tell him that someone probably cracked a joke as the photo was being taken.

They look happy and if you look closely, one would almost believe that he and Hailey were an item at the time but he knows that they were not.

They were almost a lot of things, and he thinks almost is one of the saddest words in the English language.

He almost kissed her. She almost told him how she felt. They were almost together.

Almost but not quite.

He looks at the picture and he wants to pretend that they are still living in that moment because even if it was only for a heartbeat, everything was perfect.

Hailey lets out a little huff, a hint of wonder in her voice, “Look at us. So full of life.”

Jay lets out a little hum of acknowledgement and Hailey looks up at him, her eyes earnest and shining with memories of a life long ago.

“Those truly were the best years, weren’t they?” She says it so reverently and it makes a lump form in his throat because while they saw hard things and went through tough times, he would go back to that point in time in an instant.

Now when he knows how important people are and how precious time is. And even if you scream and argue and fight, family is everything and you should never take anything for granted.

Now when he knows love is worth fighting for even if you are scared.

God, if he could go back, he would fight for Hailey till his very last breath and never give up no matter the outcome.

“Yeah,” He clears his throat, “Yeah, they were.”

A corner of Hailey’s screws up in some kind of half-smile and he thinks she is trying not to cry.

She shakes her head, still lost in the picture, “I’ve done a lot in my life, but this—Intelligence,” She trails off, lost in thought and gives the picture one last swipe of her thumb before passing it back to Jay.

“We were a good team,” She smiles at him, and he can see all the memories playing in her eyes.

He nods, sliding the picture back into his wallet, “Me, you, Kev, Adam, Kim, Voight—We were the best,” He gives her a gentle smile, “You made us the best.”

Hailey cocks her head, a perplexed look on her face, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Intelligence was always a good unit but,” He shakes his head, “I don’t think we really became a team until after you walked in that bank. You made all of us better which made the unit better.”

He pauses before softly admitting, “You made me better.”

There are tears in her eyes, but she does not say anything. He takes a deep breath, glancing away for a second before looking back at her.

“You ever think about timing?” He does not give her a chance to answer and powers through before he loses the nerve to be honest with his feelings for her, “Time, fate, whatever dictates how and when things fall into place. It’s all so very delicate and fragile—when you think that just one slight change or difference could have set your life on a completely different path.”

Jay fidgets with the beer label and looks up at her through his eyelashes, “Today, forty-seven years ago you walked into a bank, and you saved my life. Now we are sitting here having beers and you are my best friend. Have been for forty-seven years.”

He turns to look out of the window, deep in thought, “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we met later or earlier or not at all?”

Do you ever wonder that we met before we were supposed too? Or maybe we didn’t meet early enough?

Were we ever supposed to meet?

Those are the questions he is really asking, but then he dismisses the last question that crossed his mind because he knows that they were always supposed to meet.

He is better because of her.

He is not married, and he does not have children, but his life was full nonetheless because of her, and he would not trade that for anything.

“Timing really is everything, isn’t it?” She speaks softly, and he knows what they are each really saying just like all those years ago in this same bar when they were talking in vague metaphors about gaining and losing.

They had the chemistry. They had the love. They had the whole damn universe, but the timing was always off.

They were a perfect fit, he and Hailey, there was just too much going on for them to see it until it was too late and then they were too afraid to do anything about it.

Hailey looks at him and he looks at her and it seems like they are looking at each other for the first time in years. And just like back then, there is so much love in their glance. And yet somehow the timing is still not right—she is still married, and he is not the kind of man to break up a marriage no matter how much he loves her.

And it seems that this is how it will always be for the two of them—like thunder and lightning—their timing would always be a little bit off.

*

He is sitting in the back alone. No one has noticed him which is fine because he does not want to talk.

He pulled out his old uniform for this and he feels strange wearing it after all this time, but it was the very least she deserved.

It does not seem real. She was always so strong, her voice always a phone call away and he did not want it to be real.

He watches as her family sniffles at the front of the church, each taking turns looking into the casket to say goodbye and he cannot bring himself to go up there. He does not want to see her laying there lifeless because in his mind, in his memory, Hailey was anything but and he does not want to mar those images.

Besides, Hailey’s family is up there and while he knows they love her, he cannot help but think of the family that should be up there.

The family that was forged through tough cases, long nights, emotionally charged moments, blood, sweat and tears.

Because that’s the family that really knew her. They knew what ticked her off, what rubbed her the wrong way and how to make her smile when she was tried and worn-thin.

He’d known.

They had seen her at her weakest, at her most fierce, and the way she fought like a bat out of hell when she needed to.

He’d seen.

But his place is not up there with her children and grandchildren and her husband. It is here in the back where he can remember the person she was to him, to her unit, to her community because he is the only person left that will ever really know.

He sits and he grieves for her, and he grieves for the life that he wanted. The life that they could have had had the universe not gotten in the way one too many times and had they not been so scared to take that leap.

He wants to go tell every young boy that loved a girl, yell it till he was blue in the face that it was never too complicated or too hard or the ‘wrong timing’. Not if the love was real. It was worth the fight, always.

Quietly, he slips from the shadows and slowly makes his way out to his truck. He is old, but all those years of keeping in shape paid off because he is pretty spry for an 85-year-old man. He could not run like he used to, but he is still sharp enough to recite every ordinance in the book and his vision is still 20-20 so he is able to live alone, and he can still drive himself to wherever he wants.

He hoists himself up in the truck he had bought after he retired. It is the same make and model of his favorite truck he had had during his partnership with Hailey, only a newer year, but it still smelt the same and looked the same and he almost did not get it because it reminded him of so many memories of them together.

Looking over to his right, he can almost see her now. Her eyes bright and her hair shining as she settles into her place, reaching for the radio to toggle through the channels as she laughs at something he said.

The memory is frozen in time, and he wants to always remember those moments when they were in the in between, waiting for something more to happen until it didn’t, and they were back to strictly being best friends.

But even after she started dating Mike and after she got married, they still had that special connection. The one where they could just look at the other and know that something was off; they could still exchange looks across the room and know what the other was thinking.

Just because she was not his did not mean they suddenly did not know every little thing about the other one.

Just because she was not his did not mean he loved her any less.

Jay blinks hard, still looking at the empty seat beside him.

Even through it is not the same truck and she has not sat beside him in years, he knows that seat will always be hers.

He turns the ignition on and carefully pulls out into the street in no particular direction, just driving and seeing all the memories that he has with Hailey in every part of Chicago play out like a movie of their best years.

He does not know why but he ends up driving to the 21st district. The roll-up is full of cars he does not recognize but his spot that he parked in every day for almost 20 years is empty, so he swings his truck into the space like he has done a thousand times before.

It is like he is not in control of his body as something forces him out of the truck and into the district. The codes are still the same and he ends up in the bullpen—it still houses Intelligence, but he does not know it’s current members as intimately as he knew his team.

They are all young and eager and smart and when he sees them it is like he is transported back in time when he, Hailey, Kim, Kevin and Adam were the rising stars of the CPD, and they were the unit everyone looked to when they needed answers.

Jay thinks they must be out running surveillance because the room is empty and there are mugshots of up and coming shot callers for the Latin Players, so they are clearly in the middle of working a case.

The room is still basically laid out like it was when he was in the unit. He can still see Kim grinning at Adam who is covering his head from the paper balls Hailey is throwing at him, Kevin standing off to the side shaking his head in amusement.

He can still hear the laughter and the arguments and the teasing. He can still smell the coffee in the air and feel the sunlight streaming through the windows like nothing had ever changed but it had because now he is the only one left who remembers that point in history.

Jay gravitates toward his desk, the one he sat at when he was just the other detective in the unit, the one that was right across from Hailey’s and when he sits down in the seat for the first time in years, he notices the single envelope sitting on the desk.

He is surprised to see his name scrawled across the front and tears prick his eyes because he immediately knows who it is from.

Even after all these years, he would recognize her handwriting anywhere. The slightly messy, looping scrawl he used to tease her for.

He does not know how this got here or how Hailey knew he would be here, but he should not be surprised because she always did know him better than he knew himself.

The way his hands are shaking has nothing to do with his old age as he opens the envelope and pulls out what appears to be a letter handwritten by Hailey. Unfolding the paper, he uses a hand to wipe away the tears that have already gathered there at just the sight of her familiar handwriting.

He begins to read, and he can hear her voice just as clear as if she were there reading it to him with a fond smile playing at her lips.

To my dearest Jay,

If you are reading this it means that I am no longer here. I have to say, I am impressed you managed to outlive me because for a while there I thought for sure you were going to die well before your time because you kept getting shot.

He cannot help but chuckle because of course, she would find a way to shove that back in his face one last time.

There is a lot I want to say. More than I could ever write in a letter because I don’t think I could ever fully articulate my thoughts and feelings. I never really had to do that with you anyway—you always just knew but I am not there to tell you so I guess I will just have to do my best here because I need you to know how much you mean to me.

I have so many regrets regarding us and I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. I want you to know that I truly loved my life and I lived it as fully as I could, but I need you to know how much I wish thing between us could have worked out differently.

Because I love you, Jay.

“Oh Hailey,” He choaks out, tears dripping onto the sheets of paper, “I love you too. So much, you have no idea.”

Not for the first time Jay is crushed by the fact he never managed to say those words out loud to her and it is even more heartbreaking that he will never get another chance to let her know how much she means to him.

He blinks rapidly and forces himself to keep reading.

There I finally said it after all these years… Or wrote it down anyways.

I love you and I have always loved you and I will always love you.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband and I love my children, but Jay—you were always the one for me. Always.

I love Mike but I don’t think I was ever in love with him. Not in the way I was with you.

I could never fall for Mike or anyone else for that matter because they were not you.

He knows what she means because that is the reason he has never settled down. There was really no one after he met Hailey and honestly, he had no interest because everyone paled in comparison to her.

It is not that he did not want to date, or that he was choosing not to out of spite or pettiness, he just knew that he would never love anyone like he loved Hailey and he did not think that was fair to someone.

He honestly did not want to love someone that was not Hailey, and he was okay with that.

I was never one to really believe in fate or destiny or the concept of soulmates, but Jay, I think you were mine.

You were always my best friend and then you were my soulmate.

I think I always knew you were it for me—I knew I wanted it to be you, but I don’t think I really realized how much it was supposed to be you until after it was too late. Until I was old and grey, and I had lived my life always feeling like something was missing.

I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it was you. I always knew that even before I forced myself to move on because I thought we had missed our chance. God, what I wouldn’t give to go back and just wait for however long it took—even if we never ended up together because I missed you.

I missed you every time we drifted further apart, and I missed you when we were together—I missed you because I knew I could never have you in the way I needed.

And I’m not talking in a lustful sense—I wanted to tell you things and spend time with you and do all the things we used to do before Mike. I couldn’t share my secrets and my feelings and my thoughts with the one person I wanted because I had a husband waiting for me at home. A husband who was expecting me to tell him all the things I used to tell you.

I wanted you. The person that knew me better than I knew myself. The person that was there from what felt like the very beginning.

I needed you. The person who went through hell and back with me, who never let me go and who never ever let me down.

But timing is everything just like you said, and I really do believe we were right for each other. Once upon a time we were supposed to be together.

But it is a cruel world, and the reality is life changes before you can even blink and then suddenly everything that you had is no longer familiar to you.

I do believe you were supposed to be my last love, the person I was supposed to grow old with, but I sometimes think that maybe we met too soon or not soon enough, or something happened, and we messed everything up because we went against fate.

We were so perfect for each other but somehow, the universe always found a way to tear us apart—your dad, Adam, Kelton, you being shot, New York…my decisions.

It’s like when everything you could ever want is right in front of you but no matter what you do, you can’t catch it.

And like I said before, I loved the family I had but there was a part of me that was always imagining you cooking in a house we picked out and babies playing in the floor that looked a little like me and a little like you.

It’s pathetic really how much I still dreamt it would be me and you at the end.

And, I guess in a way, it is. Me and you, here in the bullpen where it all started.

The end of our story right where it began.

It wasn’t a story out of a fairy-tale. Not by a long shot—our story was full of tears and panic and heartbreak and crushed dreams and disappointment and regret and we certainly didn’t get our happily ever after, but it was beautiful too.

Sometimes I think it would have been without a doubt easier if I had never met you, but then I wouldn’t have known the warmth of your smile or the joy I felt when I heard you laugh.

I would have missed out on the trust and the joy and the love and my life would have held far less meaning than it did.

All of the times we spent drinking and crying and laughing. The memories, the thoughts, the feelings—I carried them all in my heart close and dear and I pulled them out from time to time when missing you got overwhelmingly too much.

Like now as I write this letter. Like always really.

I could write forever and never tell you all that is in my heart, but I just wanted you to know how much I loved and dreamt of you. How much I wished and regretted.

I don’t really know what happens now. I don’t know what life is after death which is funny seeing as how we looked it in the face every day over the course of several decades, but I was never scared of it. The only thing I was really scared of was losing you, so I guess I’m telling you to hurry up and join me wherever I am.

Now, don’t take this as permission to go get yourself shot. Take your time, but also not too much time, okay?

Kind of ironic I’m telling you it’s okay to die whenever after I spent so many years begging you not to, isn’t it?

But you always did say you’d follow me anywhere, so I guess I’m telling you it’s okay to follow me now.

I love you, Jay Halstead.

Your partner always,

Detective Hailey Anne Upton

Fresh teardrops cover days old, dried ones and it is not lost on him that she signed her name the way she was signing it when he met her.

He sees a flash of blue eyes and blonde ponytail striding into a bank. Her voice echoing in his mind, sharp and clear as she declares that she is Detective Upton from Robbery-Homicide.

Back when she was his.

Jay slowly places a kiss over the loopy handwriting before pocketing the letter reverently and pushing himself up from his desk.

He walks down the main stairs, ignoring the hustle and bustle of police officers moving about the district and he sees moment after moment of his partnership with Hailey play out with each step he takes.

Down the front steps, turning the corner, sitting on the bench that has been there ever since he could remember.

How many lunches from a local food truck has he shared with Hailey on this bench?

He sits there and he remembers. He remembers all of the ‘I’d follow you blind’s’ and ‘we’ll always be good’s’.

All the times he looked beside him to find her laughing or smiling or teasing. The times she let him in and showed him the deepest, darkest parts of herself. The times where she pushed him, and he pushed her.

Always behind or beside or in front, watching his six and keeping his head on straight when the load got too heavy.

Every raid and stakeout and bust. All the times she was his right-hand man, his sounding board when he did not know what to do.

She always had the answer.

He knows he would have never made it without Hailey, and he does not know how he will make it now.

He blinks, reaching into his pocket for the letter and he sits there until day turns into night staring at her handwriting leaping up at him.

He sits there and he misses her.

He sits there and he closes his eyes.

He sits there and he looks for her.

And then he sees it. Her youthful smile looking at him, welcoming him, loving him and he smiles back.

God, he missed her.

Of course, he missed her. She was his partner.

[cloudninetonine]

Cogito, ergo sum

Chapter: 2

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x fem!reader

A/N: Hey guys! I want to apologise for the long wait between chpaters but seeing as I’m on my last year of college my school work is coming before everything else so it’s a little hard working between them! Don’t worry, I’m not dropping this series or anything just expect chapters to take a little long to be loaded and everything! Also, this chapter seems a little too far paced for me, so sorry about that as well!

Tags at the bottom once again!

I do not own Detroit become human this is merely fanficion

Warnings: Bad language, physical assault, threats (?), hints of abuse, (Name) being weird like always, also angry (Name), mentions of drugs, there’s a bit of slander against drug abusers that I do not condone!

Undercut babes!

It’s fascinating, it really is, the way her beautiful gaze follows you as you round her, studying her feverishly, your eyes wide and bright.

She’s...well, words cannot describe her. Her beauty lies beyond your imagination and you’re not quite equipped to say anything that her magnificent ears deserve to hear, your words are below her and she’s just-

Wow.

“Ms (Last), please-”

You raise your hand towards the younger engineer, silencing with a small utter of ‘hush’ and he’s shutting his mouth, falling back to the side of your desk with not much else to say.

The android you’ve been un-shamelessly ogling for the past 10 solid minutes is still very quiet, she’s just watching you in her manufactured attire, shy, nervous, scared- everything you really wish she wasn’t right now because there is no way you want her to see you as some sort of threat, far from it.

“Henry” Turning back towards the engineer, he stiffs up like a board, sweat forming on his brow “Why didn’t you dismantle her?”

It’s rude, it’s horrible to say and it sours your mouth when you form those words, but it’s an honest question, you want to know why someone would do this, keep her alive, see her for all her glory.

The public spoke strongly about their opinions of androids, like toys to be played with, slaves to be worked, not the thing you so desperately wanted people to see them as. The masterpieces that stood beyond human comprehension.

The android lets out a noise similar to a whimper as Henry stammers out.

“I-I couldn’t she- um- I-” Finally, he sighs with frustration, Henry makes eye contact with you “She said was scared and...I couldn’t”

You snap back to face her.

“Is that true?”

She hesitates, one second, two seconds, three seconds, four- it takes a whole 30 seconds before she’s finally responding. “Yes…”

Your chest bursts in excitement.

“You’re incredible” Henry deflates in relief, placing a hand against your desk while you grasp her cheeks, her warm grey eyes glancing between your two hands then meet your own stare, confused. “Amazing, beautiful, fantastic, so, so much more”

“...thank you”

You sniff, then you’re pulling away, trying to keep your tears abay. You really can’t believe that your work has gone so far, that new forms of sentient are evolving from a human’s hand, you’re so overjoyed by it all but you’re also kind of realising how weird you’re being.

“Sorry, I’m becoming the creepy stereotypical scientist, let me just-” Pulling off your lab coat, you throw it over her shoulders, pulling it tighter around her for her dainty hands to grasp and hold, a smile growing on her face in gratitude. You’re really still in awe of it all but send her a giddy smile back “Henry get Kamski I’m sure he’s gonna love this”

When the man disappears, closing the office door behind him, you guide her to a chair, kneeling before her kindly.

“Tell me” She waits patiently for you to continue “What’s your name?”

When she opens her mouth, you interrupt her, grasping her hands “No, not the name you were given, the name you have chosen. What is your name?”

You’re at the beginning of history right here, you can already see the books that are yet to be written, all starting at this very moment, with you and her. This android, this amazing, piece of living metal, is the start of something great and you can’t wait to be a part of it.

“My name is….”

-----------

“(Name), I’m sorry, but there isn’t really anything I can do”

Your hands come down on the desk, expression unbelieving.

“But he attacked Ortiz in self defence, it’s not fair for him to be shipped to Cyberlife! That hellhole already has enough test subjects with other deviants, why can’t he be let go!?” Pushing yourself back up, you drag your hands down your face in exasperation “He’s a victim! He was defending himself, why can’t we let him off with a lesser offence?”

Billie sighs, shutting the file softly. “Because in the eyes of the law, he’s not a victim. He’s property and there isn’t much we can do about that. Besides, because Ortiz is dead, his ownership basically goes back to Cyberlife, so they have the authority to take him back”

Billie’s right, you know that they’re right, but it’s just so frustrating, so vexing that this is the case. An android, in the eyes of society, is nothing more than their components, why should they be given the same privilege as those who eat, shit and breathe?

Billie may be a judge, but they didn’t make the law.

You remember years ago, when something like this would have been seen as detestable, that the masses would have stood up to fight this kind of horror, but for some reason, with age came stupidity and ignorance it seemed. What the fuck had happened to you all?

You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again before huffing, taking the file from their desk and ripping your coat off the hanger.

“I’m sorry, (Name)!” Billie calls and you wave them off, shouting back a ‘Don’t worry about it’ then close their office.

The courthouse is only a few blocks away from the precinct, a good walk away, a good way to calm yourself down until you’re having to face the frustration that comes in with having to work in such a high strung place. It’s funny really, you used to say ACAB when you were younger, still believed it too, so it’s really a wonder as to why you joined, but then again sometimes to make change you have to become the very thing you hate-

“Detective (Last)-” 

You scream, almost dropping your files and jumping a meter within the air. Passerbys don’t even spare you a glance, a generation raised on the weirdest websites like Vine, Tiktok, Youtube and god forbid, Tumblr, have them desensitised to whatever shit people like to play at now-a-days.

“Oh my God, Inspector Gadget” A hand falls to your chest, checking your racing heartbeat “You can’t just sneak up on a bitch like that”

Connor, the big old puppy, tilts his head in mild confusion “But I called your name twice, detective”

Oh.

“What are you doing here, Connor?”

The android joins your side and you continue your way. “Lieutenant Anderson informed me that you were heading to the courthouse, so I decided to come and brief you about a new case”

A new case, of course a new case, deviancy keeps popping up all over the country rapidly but you can’t hold your surprise about the fact that it’s been a  few days and there’s already a new case.

“Deadass?”

Wait, you hadn’t mean to say that-

His eyes narrow “Deadass?”

A snort escapes you “Oh my God I can’t believe you just said that, it sounds so cursed coming from your mouth. I meant, seriously?”

You swear on your life, on everything that may be above and so much more, that the android lets out a laugh when he continues, explaining the details as you finally enter the office.

You realise, as he talks, you feel a whole lot lighter than you had earlier.

-----------

“This guy is as scummy as it gets” 

Unfortunately, you can’t help but agree. Todd Williams is about as charismatic as a dumpster fire, messy hair, messy face, stained clothing and the stench of alcohol clung when you finally met him, having to hold back a wince of disgust.

You don’t usually speak ill of others, but you know his type, from the way he carries himself to the way he speaks. You’ve had to face men like him before, his whole demeanor brings back bad memories and you’re so glad that you’re not the one having to get details from him, to have to speak to him.

One thing’s for sure though, you don’t blame whatever deviant decided to book it from him.

“Why doesn’t he just...get a refund from Cyberlife?” You take a sip of your milkshake, staring at Hank, Connor and Mr Williams who looked to be ending off their conversation. “They do that for deviants, don’t they?”

Yes, if you remember, the new flashy CEO of the hell corp spoke it for all to see, that deviance is guaranteed to offer you your cash back.

How inhumane it all sounded.

Gavin scoffs, drinking his coffee “You think a guy like that cares about refunds?”

No. You know why he’s doing it. It’s all about power for fuckers like that.

Mr Williams leaves, Hank is looking through his notes, Connor is heading your way, probably to refer all the information back to you and Gavin is taking in a breath to start his bullshit again, despite your civilness that you had been sharing.

Eh, peace was never an option-

“Your metal boyfriend is heading this way”

The noise you make isn’t human, it’s a mix of a wheeze and scream, like you’ve just choked on the air your breathing and in all honesty, you have, but you’re not letting that mother fucker get away with catching you off guard, especially when he starts laughing.

“Shut up, furry”

Your actually feel the air from his head snapping towards you. “I’m not a fucking furry, quit fucking saying it!”

You pat his shoulder “It’s alright, Reed, we all know you wrote yiff fiction in your spare time-”

You dodge his fist, running away from his red, angered face and petty insults, dragging Connor away from the break room to the side, all while laughing up a storm.

Having your attention on the android again brings back Gavin’s words, his tease of ‘boyfriend’ which makes your face heat up, in what? You’re not quite sure, but it’s enough to make Connor notice your oddity.

“What were you and Detective Reed-”

“Nothing” You cackle, patting down his shoulders to distract yourself “He’s just being an arsehole again, nothing to worry yourself over”

And worry himself he didn’t, because he couldn’t of course, android and all.

Connor was quick to fill you in, an AX400 by the name of Kara had stolen (the word kidnapped comes to mind but you know that the robot detective will just ‘correct’ you on your wording) another android, Mr William’s ‘daughter’, model YK500 named Alice after assaulting him the night before. Mr Williams had been knocked out after the ordeal, as to why it had taken him so long to report it. 

“Were there any signs of assault that you could see? Ones that could lead to a potential take down or unconsciousness?” Connor takes a moment before shaking his head “Yeah, I didn’t think so”

What a lying fuck.

“Let’s head to the briefing room”

Hank is there, as well as a whole group of other police officers, talking amongst themselves as you situate yourself behind the podium, screen remote in hand and smiling brightly. Your partners are at your side, Connor in his usual stoic stance while the old fart has his arms crossed, bored as always and you’re ready to debrief the many uniforms but they keep talking, even after you clear your throat.

You’re not one to get angry at being talked over, annoyed, yes, but anger leads you nowhere with a crowd, so instead, you use your most favourite tactic to date

“Pay attention to me or I am gonna start screaming people” You sing. Not a threat, but a promise. “And you all know I will screech like mother fucker”

The room is silent in the next second.

“Great! So-”

The door to the room bursts open.

“Fucking really-”

“Detective (Last)'' It's the front office assistant and by the looks of it, he is panicked, worried even, as he addresses you. You suddenly feel your stomach knot up  “I’m sorry, but there’s been an emergency with your relative Carl Manfred”

You swallow, hard. “What?”

The meeting ends right then and there.

-----------

Hank hurls to a stop right outside the entrance. You’re already halfway out of the car when he shuts off the vehicle, Connor is taking off his seatbelt and you’re already racing down the soaked concrete path to the front door, rain pelting down on you.

You barely feel it though.

You startle the receptionist when you slam your hands down, eyes wide in panic, breathing coming out in fast, short pants and just looking as though you faced the masses to make it to this spot, right in front of her.

“Carl Manfred, he was brought here about an hour ago is he-”

She interrupts “Are you family?”

“Yes, please, I-”

“In what relation do you have to the patient?”

Is she really fucking serious right now? You debated leaning over and strangling your answer out of her, letting her know what kind of fucking pain you could put her through in this very moment-

But the hand that is placed against your back keeps you still. It’s warm and comforting and keeps you from mauling the fucker right out of her chair, though it doesn’t calm your anxiety, no, but at least it’s there.

You turn to see Connor, who nods towards you politely.

Huh, what a twist of events.

Hank leans over from your other side, looking just as angry as you feel, though he keeps his voice civil when he speaks “Listen, her old man’s just had a heart attack, could you drop the formal shit so she can see him?”

Her voice is sharp, just like her stupid fucking face and she snaps back “I can’t let you in unless I know your relation, unless you’d like to be escorted out by security”

Damn, she’s playing with fire and you’re ready to throw oil all fucking over her.

“I don’t fucking think so-” Pulling out your badge, you slam it against the desk, with nothing short of a growl “Police. Now, tell me where my fucking dad is or you’ll regret the next words that come out of your mouth”

You never abuse your power as a cop, it’s inhumane and back in your younger days you sneered at the disgusting police who would use their authority for their own gain, so you hate to admit but the nervous look that crosses her face when she sees your badge and Hank’s when he pulls it out for extra effect scratches an itch you begged to be scratched.

“Floor 3, the front desk will inform you what room”

“Thanks” You spit, already rushing to the elevator, the other two following.

Connor is quiet, to your surprise. Honestly, you expected him to speak out about your behaviour, your attitude, your unprofessionalism, but he says nothing, just trails after the two of you in silence, obediently, just like he was made for. 

It’s comforting having him here, even if he’s just following orders.

The next receptionist is kinder than the last (she even scowls at the mention of her coworker) and points down the hallway, to where two officers stand with cups of coffee within their hands. They stiffen in surprise at your arrival, but you pay them no mind, pushing your way into the room where you finally pause, taking in the scene of your beloved father figure, laid still within the bed, pale, heart monitor beeping occasionally. 

The doctor by Carl’s side looks up at you. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Hank and Connor wait outside.

“(Name) (Last), Carl’s daughter and emergency contact” You explain, walking further into the room “Is he- Can I-”

“He’s fine” She explains with a comforting smile “And yes, you can come closer, though the medication has him knocked unconscious so he won’t be talking any time soon”

The relief almost has you collapsing, brings you back from the panic attack that threatens to kick your arse right in front of everyone and you finally breathe normally.

“Thank you, and you are?”

“Dr Collins” Collins offers her hand and you shake it weakly. “Your father is going to be okay, (Name), but he’s going to need a lot of rest. Cardiac arrest at this age can be fatal, so we were lucky that he lived so close”

You nod, tiredly slinking to Carl’s side to drop into the cushion chair, taking his hand in yours. Kissing it lovingly, you place it close to you in comfort, in reassurance.

‘He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s going to be okay-’

“What are you doing here?”

Your anger shoots right back up, as does you head when you turn to look at the doorway.

“Leo” The name is dragged out of your mouth, it’s spoken with a heavy coat of venom and dirt and for all the participants who are about to see this wild shit show, is a clear indication that you’re far from happy to see the man that stood there. “The fuck are you doing here?”

He scoffs “I’m family, what else am I here for?”

“Oh I don’t know,” You’re standing, stalking closer to him with a raged gleam in your eye “To mooch off him a little bit more?”

The tension can be cut with a knife, everyone can see it, feel it, even Connor, who looks ready to intervene at any given moment.

“No, detective” One of the officiers starts, cutting in in hopes to keep you both calm. “He was there when it all happened, he saw everything-”

“He was there?” No, her words only add fuel to the fire and you’re glaring at your brother once again “You were there? The fuck were you there for? You did this?”

“No!”

“Please calm down” Collins cuts in “I understand the anger but the other patients-”

You ignore her, glancing around the area when a thought struck you.

“Where’s Markus?”

Connor’s the first to respond, “Who’s Markus, detective (Last)?”

“Dad’s care bot” A pin drops, no one is speaking, the two cops are quiet, Leo is scowling, but he’s not looking at you and your anger is quickly making room to fear, cold and stabbing when you push again, harsher, angrier “Where the fuck is Markus?”

The second officer speaks this time, hat in his hands and you know what happens next is not going to be good.

“He was leaning over your father when we walked in detective, Mr Leo Manfred told us he attacked him” The man gulps, hesitating. He’s not nervous for what he’s done, no, he’s nervous about the dark look that seems to be slowly taking over your eyes, “I shot him”

A beat goes by. Then another, another, another, another, another-

“Why were you there in the first place?” It’s soft, curious, but the rage behind it is big, your need for an answer is keeping it back “What was the call for?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Answer the question, officer”

His partner offers up the answer “....A break in, ma’am”

There’s silence, then you nod in understanding.

No one is quick enough to stop you from shoving Leo into the wall, hands wrapped tightly around the lapels of his jacket and holding him up so you can scream at him properly, face feeling hot from anger, eyes wild from rage, practically feral. 

“You fucking did this! This is your fault, you good for nothing fuck!” You pull your hand back and punch him right in the face, he’s too in shock to react but everyone else is trying to pull you off “What?! Were you off your shit from snorting that fucking powder again, you damn druggie!? Huh!? HUH!? You high right now, too!?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, (Name), let go!” Hank yells but he’s fucking impressed by your resistance.

“He could have died because of you, you good for nothing cunt! Worthless piece of shit! Now, Markus is fucking dead because of you, the person who was actually fucking taking care of him! This is all your fault! He’s in that hospital bed, because of you! You! Did! This! All for those stupid drugs! You’re fucking pathetic!”

You’re finally tugged off by someone, their arms slipping under your own to stop you from going back at him again. The officers are acting as a wall between you and your brother, Dr Collin’s is checking his nose as blood drips down his face, Leo is still in shock and Hank is leaning over, hands propped onto his knees. That leaves...

“I’m sorry detective (Last), but I’m going to have to restrain you until you calm down”

You scream in frustration and try to fight against it, but damn, you have to admit in a moment of clarity, Connor is fucking strong.

“Lieutenant Anderson, if you could take her legs, we can escort her out of the building without much trouble” Hank huffs something under his breath probably a grunt of ‘fucking android’ but complies, glaring at you when he leans down.

“You kick me and I’ll kick your ass”

Your respect for him makes you comply, but the anger doesn’t stop you from cussing both him and the android out, naming every threat under the sun as they carry you out of the building, back to the car which you are shoved placed into.

“Let me out of this fucking car, Hank!” You bellow, glaring at the man with sharp eyes who stood outside the vehicle, leaning against it “I’ll break this fucking window, I swear to fucking God!”

“You can try, but we both know you won’t!”

Once again, you’re screaming, tugging frantically at the door’s handle that you know is locked, but are way too angered to care right now.

Connor sits by your side, a good distance away to not antagonise you, silent, waiting and watching as you slowly fall from angry to desperate, tears welling within your eyes and falling down your cheeks. It only takes a few more moments for you to stop altogether, your shoulders shaking as you sob, quietly but strong.

The android finally speaks “Detective (Last)-”

You’re on him in a moment, arms wrapped around his frame, face buried into his shoulder, wetting his suit jacket as you cry, shaking.

It’s a new one for Connor. An android built for detective work, to sniff out the bad deviants, to question suspects and actually built with a comforting feature for victims of crimes. But this is a first, a first he’s seen anyone to tears, more importantly, a first of seeing you so broken. Sure, he had seen you defeated those few days ago, but this is different, you’re not trying to hide conflicting feelings behind your bubbly smile and weird jokes, you’re just...crying. Nothing more, nothing less.

His arms are hovering at your sides, hesitant, unsure and it’s not until Hank gestures from outside the car to ‘fucking do something, you stupid machine’ that the protocol finally kicks in, his arms coming to wrap around you securely and comforting, reassuring you through your whimpers.

Connor is a robot, a machine that feels nothing.

But seeing you cry isn’t something he can just let happen.

Software instability.

-----------

Tags: @dillxpixkles @1950schick @pinkittwice @iris-suoh @loveflowsthroughme @thatlonelyalto @starcatcher-kay​ (ya’ll I’m half asleep if I forgot you in the taglist I am SORRY-)

[snlhostharry]

romeo and juliet thing

harry styles x reader

“rivals” to lovers au 

~3k words

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex 

my piece for @meetmeinfleetwood ‘s to lovers challenge, congrats on your milestone! 

a/n: amazing thing I realized while writing this: if you don’t put it off you can actually get it done in a reasonable amount of time... I will not be applying this to any other aspects of my life 

You’ve come to enjoy album release parties. The first one you’d ever been to was the one for your first album, something someone from your publicity team has put together, which they did a decent job on but you did not have a good time. You were so nervous about the album coming out at all that you tried to use alcohol to calm your nerves, so you can’t really remember anything about it besides briefly throwing up in the bathroom. After that incident, you resolved not to drink before the party ever again and the next few you’d been too for other artists were actually fun in their own special ways. 

By the time your second album is on the cusp on release, you’ve decided that you deserved it after the mess of writer's block you’d gotten in the middle of trying to write the thing, which had gotten so bad that you’d been called into a “special meeting” by management where they talked for what felt like hours about deadlines and marketing and basically tried to intimidate you into finishing faster. Something happened that allowed you to finish, it was an odd timing but it did help. 

But that was ages ago, and you’re trying to focus on the party. 

Which is easy enough, winding through the room talking to friends and investors, small talk is easy when you're trying to avoid something else. You’re talking to someone who’s name you are definitely not going to remember when this is over, when out of the corner of your eye you think you see someone who should definitely not be here. When you're finally released from said conversation you walk around the room, trying to find the intruder. You make your way all the way back to the bathroom, when suddenly the person you’ve been looking for slams right into you. 

You’re far enough in a corner that you think no one can see you, which is good because if anyone got photos of the two of you together you would never hear the end of it. Harry Styles looks at you like he’s been caught in the act, the guilty expression not leaving his face even as he says, “Funny seeing you here.” 

“At my own party?” You ask. 

He licks his lips, trying to buy time to think of something to say. “Before you say anything,” He says, treading cautiously, “I was told to come here.” 

You narrow your eyes, “By who?” 

“Someone who works for me,” He replies, “Which means that someone who works for you gave them the information.” 

You groan, “Of course they did, well at least make sure they get your good side when someone comes around to take photos.” 

He smiles at that, “That’s every side, love.” 

You shake your head, typing a message on your phone and quickly sending it, “It’s not but it’s cute that you think so.” 

“Ignoring that little comment,” He says, seeing that your attention is divided between him and the person you seem to be very angrily texting. “It’s a good song you wrote, I’m excited to hear the rest of the album.”

“Oh,” You say, eyes widening, “Thank you..?” He tilts his head to the side gently, clearly his way of asking a question without actually asking a question. “Sorry, I just didn’t realize we were doing the thing where we pretend this is normal, and you are normally at my party.”

He laughs, “Didn’t know there was pretending involved.” 

“I’m just so used to pretending to loathe you all day everyday that it's just so natural,” You say, and wait to see if he’ll get the joke. 

He shrugs, “Really? I don’t think of you all that much.” 

Your phone buzzes in your hand before you can respond, one message sits unread underneath the ten you’d sent a few minutes earlier in rapid succession. Honestly? I invited him because I thought it would be fun. Of course that would be her rationale for not telling you about this very obvious stunt. Inviting your “rival” to your album release party is the perfect way to get your name in some headlines conveniently before the whole thing goes live, not like you need them but then again you do pay people to manage this kind of thing so they figure they should be doing something. 

Oh yeah, Harry is supposed to be your “rival.” Think of some of the most infamous musical feuds of all time, and then knock it down a few pegs, and that’s where you would put yours and harrys. No one knows how it really started, something between a couple of twitter stans you’ve been told, but it suddenly gave each of your respective “people” the genius idea to milk that kind of exposure for all that it’s worth. The two of you have been pit against each other ever since the release of your debut albums, both self titled and both released within two weeks of each other. It hasn’t harmed either of you, being compared to the other, since you’re both pretty evenly matched in terms of talent. 

It seems to only exist to make the occasional headline when the media remember that it “exists.” There have been headlines wondering if you’ve mentioned him in tik toks (you didn’t) in instagram posts (you were shading someone but not him) and if this whole thing started due to a one night stand that went the wrong way (definitely not). 

You pull yourself back into the conversation, realizing you're being rude trying to think of something to respond to the text message. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“Who are you rage tweeting over there?”

“Rage texting actually,” You say as another one comes through, “Fucking Melanie.” 

“Unfortunate that her parents gave her that as a first name.”

You look up at him right away, “Not funny.” He laughs at his own joke anyway, “Melanie-” You say, holding up your phone for dramatic effect, “Is the head of the PR team, which is three people but anyway she is the one who seems to have coordinated this whole thing as a prank on me apparently.” 

“It’s kind of funny,” He says. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m sure from your point of view it is.” Suddenly, someone comes rounding the corner near where the two of you are standing, and you freeze on instinct until they pass right in front of you without even looking in your direction. You realize that in a panic, you’d grabbed onto Harry’s hand and you decide that the two of you are going to have to finish this conversation somewhere else. “Come with me,” You sigh, leading him through the back of the room all the way to a small door that leads to an outside area at the back of the venue. You look at him again, his eyes glinting in the lights hanging above your heads. “What were we talking about?”

“Are you ever listening to me?” He asks, half joking. 

“Don’t take it personally I’m only half listening to everyone,” You answer, “It’s called multitasking.” 

“Seems tiring.” 

“Better than being bored,” You say.

He looks at you for a second without saying and then shoves his hands in his pockets, “Why are we out here again?” 

“I’m trying to figure out what’s the game plan here, if you’re supposed to be seen here alone, seen with me, if I’m supposed to throw some kind of tantrum about it.” 

“Besides the one your already throwing?” 

You stop looking at your phone, “Ouch.” 

“Punishment for continuing to ignore me.”

You turn off your phone and hold it in your hand gently, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening, but only if you’re going to say something that it’s some kind of thinly veiled insult,” You click your tongue, “You’re one of those guys who flirts by making fun of girls aren’t you?” 

He thinks about it, “That’s a type?” 

“Yeah, for people who are still mentally in high school.” 

“So you wouldn't be interested then?” 

You smile, thinking about it. Here’s the thing, despite the fact you very much have been pretending to loathe Harry Styles for two years just so you don’t slip it if someone asks, you recognise now that he is objectively attractive. The curls, and the eyes and the borderline too busy suit jacket he’s wearing (that both of you know costs an exorbitant amount) is all contributing to a look that is working for you at the moment. Also working in his favor? The semi enemies to lovers arc that you have going on in your head. “Despite the fact that I think that kind of flirting is beneath you, at this moment, it’s currently working for me.” 

You take a step forward, closer to him, and suddenly your phone starts going off again. You check it briefly, trying very much not to ruin the moment but very cognizant of the fact that this is your party and people are going to start noticing if you're gone. You look down, see it’s not a life or death emergency and look right back at Harry. “Let me guess,” He says, “She wants you to kiss me for the cameras?”

You laugh, “No, but I’m going to do it anyway.” You kiss him, he leans in and you think that you might just seal the deal with harry styles out on this very nice patio when your phone rings again. You pull away when it’s clear that whoever it is needs you desperately, you look at the message, and groan, “Fucking Melaine.” You look towards the door and back at Harry, “Okay this is not over, but I have to go take care of stuff, so just meet me here after the whole thing is over and we will finish this thing.” 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” You smile, “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers, like Romeo and Juliet without the ending.” You pause, “Well maybe with the end if Melanie kills me with her bare hands for not talking to this producer she wants me to meet.” 

“Later, then.” 

You take him back to your apartment that night. And you invite him back the next day, and then the week and then a few more times after that. As much as you had meant it a joke at the time, the kind of forbidden lovers aspect of trying to keep this whole thing under wraps is sexy in a way that you would never admit outloud. 

You’ve both become shockingly adept at sneaking in and out of apartments, neighborhoods (Harry has multiple priorities; why that is you're not exactly sure) and sometimes clubs if you're in a group and it’s dark enough that you think no one will see you. 

“Should I climb up through the window?” You ask Harry as you stand in the backyard of his house in London,  swimsuit clad even though you’ve gone nowhere near the pool. 

Harry looks at you from his place on the ground next to you. He’d refused to get a chirhair to sit on, so he just sits on the ground, looking out over the pool and the fence. “Why would you do that?” 

“Romeo and Juliet thing, didn’t he climb through the window to see her?”

He shrugs, wrapping his arms around your bare legs in some attempt to keep your attention on him, “I don’t know, never read it.” He laughs a little, “But I think if you did that some pap would catch you with your ass hanging out of my window.” 

You laugh too, “And you would never fucking stop laughing at that.” 

“No, I would not.” 

You kick your leg out so that you almost hit him right in the face, “Fucker, I thought you were over being mean to me as a tactic. You have successfully romanced me.” 

“Really? Because you’re staring at the house like you’re going to kill me for my money.” 

“You’d put me in your will? That’s sweet,” You turn to him, pulling your sunglasses onto the top of your head. 

“You are so hot right now.”

“It is hot,” You say, looking out at the clear sky, “What an observation.” 

“You’re screwing with me.” 

“Because I’m too tired to screw you at the moment,” You say, “Can’t we just enjoy one day in one of your two properties out in the sun before you start making me exercise?” 

“I wouldn’t call it that.” 

“It is work,” You say, rolling your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that song you played yesterday, I think it needs to be less.. Ethereal.” 

“What does that mean?” 

You sit down next to him, laying your head in the grass. “Harry Styles is a rockstar, if you’re going to do a sad song, which seems to be your specialty, it needs to at least have a beat.” 

“People don’t want to dance to sad songs.” 

“Dude,” You say matter of factly, “Of course they do, I do and I think I speak for a very large section of the United States population.You need a sad song you can at the very least scream too, if not full out dance.” 

“So what’s your suggestion?” He asks. 

“Add more guitar,” You tell him, “Like a lot more. Take all the lyrics you have and put them on a track that sounds like it should be about your new puppy or something.” 

“Who writes songs about puppies?” 

“It was an example, H.” You sigh, “but you get the point.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Don’t be like that.” He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you let it go as one of his moods for a while. But it goes on for longer than you thought it would be, and eventually you sit up. He’s staring down at his phone, frozen, and then he starts typing without saying anything to you. “What are you looking at?” You ask him, and he doesn’t say anything. “What is it H?” You ask again. 

“Fuck it all,” He says, dropping his phone to the ground, and covering his face with his hands as he laid down with his head in the grass. 

You pick his phone up off the ground and see that he’s opened twitter. Staring right back at you is a picture of the two of you kissing outside a small restaurant from the night before, you rack your brain trying to think if you saw anywhere when you were there and you swore you didn’t. Like it or not, everyone is going to know about the two of you now, including Melanie who had told you not to interact with Harry after the party expressly. “Shit,” You say, and your phone begins to ring the sound of Temporary Fix filling the small backyard. 

“Fucking Melanie,” Harry says, still lying on the ground, “She’s going to ream me.” 

“Well at least she’ll do it to both of us,” You groan, not even bothering to go and get your phone. You stand up, as a tension headache begins to form in your temples, “Well I’m going to get into the pool.” 

“Now?” He asks you. “Seems like the perfect way to avoid this problem, doesn’t it?” 

He also gets to his feet, and takes your hand, “Yeah it does.” 

And together the two of you jump into the pool. 

It’s an hour before you finally call Melanie back, even though you meant to avoid it for at least another hour. You sit at the kitchen counter while Harry takes a call in another room, dreading this call because you do not want to hear her yell at you for nothing, mostly because you're a grown woman and are above being lectured. 

“Were you just not going to tell me about this?” 

“Yes, that was the plan.” 

“I told you not to-”

“Yeah but I had already made plans by then that I couldn’t cancel.” 

“There was one man in the entire world, who you couldn’t fuck-”

“I know, what are the odds?” 

“Could you please stop fucking with me for one second?” She says, “This is serious.” 

“It’s not that bad, for you I mean.” You shrug, “I mean for me my personal business is all out on the internet now and I’ll be permanently known as one of Harry Styles’ girlfriends but for you what’s better press wise than a good ol enemies to lovers arc? I won’t tell anyone the enemies part wasn’t real if you won’t.” 

You hear her sigh from the other end of the phone, and then tap her nails against the desk. “You might be onto something there.” 

“I’m always onto something Melanie, I’m the artist here aren’t I?” And you hang up, before you say something that you’ll regret. You’d meant what you said, you were mostly just uncomfortable with everyone knowing who you're dating, especially the harry twitter stans who are known for being very excitable to say the least, you could see why they liked him so much but you would be lying if you said they didn’t scare you. You think of all the interviews you’ll do in the future where people will ask about him, about your relationship and maybe about how it ended. 

Harry comes back into the kitchen and grabs two beers from the fridge. He opens both and sets one out in front of you. “How did it go?” 

“Fine,” You say. You look at him, “Is this the part where we break up because you can’t be seen with me?” You put your face into the counter and let out another groan. 

“Never,” He says, taking a drink, “No one else I would rather weather this shit-storm with.” 

You smile, “Same here.” 

[thomaslightwood]

Blackthorn Detective Agency - Part 1

KitTy Sherlock AU!

It's set in 1930s, slow burn & will have a few parts!

I'm not 100% sure where this is going but I'm already writing the second part, so we will see

Words: 3 862 (I know it's long, sorry, this part is more about the plot and the surroundings)

Kit looked at the grey sky above his head and frowned. It was going to rain. Of course.

He hasn't been in London for over a year now but he wondered how he could forget that. The bad weather, the noise, (and true to be told - very dirty) streets, the men in suits and cylinders, the women in pretty dresses, sometimes with pants. He wondered what happened to the few closet shops he was passing by. One of the many mysteries of life.

And talking about mysteries…

Kit saw at the other side of the street what he was looking for. A grey showcase, thorns all over the frame with a few simple words in the middle - "Blackthorn Detective Agency". There was a small bee on its left.

Kit fastly crossed the street, holding his hat. Some man angrily shooted, cursing the sudden wind that scattered many leaves, newspapers and even a few hats. Kit laughed. He missed London even though it wasn't the most awesome place.

He stood up in front of the agency, hesitating. He knew the guy who ran it is young, very good at what he does and known among people as Sherlock Holmes. Kit didn't know almost anything about him. What if he was a criminal? Or another kind of dangerous person?

But he remembered the look on his father's face. The empty package. Kit needed the money, no matter what kind of guy was this Sherlock.

He quietly opened the door and looked around the room as he was entering. It was kind of a lobby but a lot smaller - there was space only for two comfortable-looking armchairs, mahogany mass and a portrait hidden behind a curtain. The walls were in nice, warm colors, mainly grey and brown, a turned off radio on the desk. In the right corner, almost unnoticeable was a polished ajar wooden door.

Kit cautiously stepped towards it but then he heard voices. He stopped, grateful he was quiet while coming inside.

“... think so?” this was a woman's voice, perhaps a girl's.

“Look. All I know is that my friend disappeared a few days ago,” this was definitely a woman's voice, probably older than the first one. “He didn't show up for our meeting the next day. He didn't send a note. And…” she hesitated.

“What is it?” this time it was a male's voice.

There was a minute of silence, then:

“The only reason I come here is not because I can't do investigation on my own. It's because…” she sighed. “The last day we saw each other, exactly the day before our appointment, he told me there is a secret that was passed to him to protect. And he told me about it. Not everything, not enough details, but I'm sure he told me because he knew he may be… attacked. I think his… attackers may know about me and this would impede the investigation.“

“I understand,” the male voice again. It was a nice voice. Melodic. Kit could listen to it for hours. “I suppose you can't tell us this secret.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I definitely can't. It's not mine to say.”

After this no one said anything but Kit thought he heard a pen writing fast on a paper.

“Is there anything further you want to share?” asked the male voice.

“I don't think so,” the woman said. “Just… be careful. Find my friend. The money is not a problem.”

Kit swallowed. Money. This woman had money. Kit should get the job at all costs.

“Thank you, Miss Loss. We will do everything we can to help.”

This was followed by silence and noise of moving clothes. Tracking of heels. Kit jumped off the door, hoping he wouldn't be caught eavesdropping.

A woman with blue skin and white hair came out of the room. A warlock. She suspiciously looked at Kit but didn't say anything. She walked past him and frowned at the sky.

“London's weather is terrible, isn't it?” Kit chuckled. “Sometimes I forget.”

A shadow of a smile crossed the woman's face. “It is, indeed. That's why I brought an umbrella.”

“Lucky you. I always forget and I'm supposed to live here.”

Then a real smile appeared on her face. But she didn't say anything - just put on her gloves, took out her umbrella and went outside. As she opened her umbrella right in front of Kit her skin and hair became darker and she wasn't warlock anymore - just a regular woman in the rain.

Kit watched after her for a second then turned around. On the door's frame was leaning a girl. Not much older than Kit probably, with bright blue-green eyes that was watching him curiously. She was wearing gloves, white shirt with puff sleeves and coffee brown wide leg pants, almost as dark as her curly hair. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest. Kit noticed a necklace around her neck, with a gold chain and a slim disk of metal on it. On the front was a wreath of thorns - probably the family symbol.

“How can I help you?” she asked politely.

“I'm here for the job. I heard that… Sherlock… is looking for a partner.”

“Yes, that's right,” she said. “Very well. Come in.”

She turned around and got back into the room she and the other woman were in. Kit followed.

It was an office. The shelves on the walls were filled with books - some of them about mathematics and the morse code, about the body language and animals, others - mysteries and classics, fairy tales and mythology, most of which Kit didn't recognize. It was surprisingly cozy - the room was warm and smelled like ink and paper. There were a few maps on the walls - of the world, of England and of London. Three armchairs like the ones in the lobby and surprisingly many tables (at least three) on which were a few little toys and tons of well organized paper - on one was even a disassembled watch. Right against the door, no more than 5 meters away, was a big desk - it was a little messy, with a rotary dial telephone and two chairs on both sides. Probably for the clients.

There was also a board, standing close to the desk - big, see-through board on wheels with paper and written things on it. A young man was cleaning it right now.

As Kit saw him everything around faded a little and his gaze was focused only on him. How beautiful.

This was probably the most good-looking man Kit has ever seen. He was tall, taller than Kit, with messy black hair which showed he probably runs a hand through it a lot. His eyes were grey like the sky outside, carefully reading a piece of paper. He was wearing gloves, a silk white shirt, a little loosened on his neck and black trousers with braces.

This should be Sherlock, Kit thought. He didn't expect him to be so young. Hell, he probably wasn't much older than Kit.

“We have a job candidate," the blue-greened girl said and sat on one of the armchairs.

The young man lifted his gaze to look at Kit. Kit felt embarrassed. He was wearing his favorite overcoat and cap - he wasn't as elegant as the two of them.

“Hello,” he said, trying not to sound too nervous. Or desperate. “I'm here for the job. I heard that Sherlock is looking for someone helping him.”

None of them said who Sherlock was or if the guy in front of him was Sherlock. The black haired one just nodded.

“You can sit if you want.”

Kit sat. The boy took a notebook from one the piles on the desk and a pen.

“My name is Livvy. This is my brother, Ty. We run this place. Nice to meet you.”

They, Livvy actually, asked him a few basic questions - his name, age, occupation. Kit came here prepared to lie for them all. But watching the boys' - Ty's - face while he was writing down the information, he couldn't make himself tell all the lies he had prepared. Kit ended up telling them the truth. His father would be disappointed in him. Well, if he knew his son was here.

“So, Mr. Rook,” the girl started.

Kit shivered. “Please, Mr. Rook is my father. You can call me just Kit.”

“Kit, it is,” she smiled. Kit had a feeling the serious questions begin now.

After almost 30 minutes the interview was at its end.

“Final question,” Livvy said. “Tell us Kit, why do you want to work in this agency?”

Kit paused. “True to be told, it's mainly because I need the money.”

“Oh,” clearly this wasn't the answer she expected. Even Ty looked up. “Really?”

Kit shifted uncomfortably. “Well… I want to help my father and for this I need to find a job. And when I saw the inquiry in the newsletter… I told myself this is what I want to try to work.”

It wasn't the greatest answer, really. But it was the truth.

“Very well,” Livvy said. Ty wrote something in his notebook - he was doing it the whole interview. “Please, leave us alone for a few minutes.”

Kit nodded and got up. He smiled at them and turned around.

When he got out of the room the door closed tightly after him.

•

Livvy turned to him with a playful smile.

“What do you think about him?”

Ty looked at the notes he had made during the interview. Christopher, also known as Kit Rook.

“He looks like he can do the job,” Ty said.

“Oh, come on!” Livvy stepped away from the door and approached Ty's desk. “I know you liked him.”

It was true. Ty did like him. He had a nice smile.

“You're not wrong,” Ty said. “But.”

“But?” Livvy raised an eyebrow.

“I don't think he'll keep up around for long. You heard him. He's here only for the money. When he is financially stable again he'd quit.”

“Ty,” Livvy sighed. “We talked about this. We're looking for someone who will work here, no matter how long. We can't find a full time worker that fast.”

Ty ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and breathed. He looked at the empty board. He already imagined how he filled it with paper, the possible connections and people, places and details, the web of the case - could this stranger help him solve the board?

“I know you don't like strangers,” Livvy said quietly. “But at least give him a chance. From all the people that came, he is… I don't know. Most reliable-looking, I suppose. He would talk with people and he's smart. And I have a feeling he may know a thing or two about London's criminals.”

Ty looked suspiciously at the door, even though he couldn't see Kit through it. “Do you really think he would be helpful?”

Livvy sat on the chair in front of the desk, looking amused - Ty wasn't sure why. “I think he is worth a try.”

Ty looked at his notes one more time, tapping with the pan on them. He looked at Livvy. Sighed.

“All right,” he said. “Let him in. He must hear the good news.”

Livvy smiled at him and got up. Ty almost didn't hear their conversation. Still tapping with the pen on the papers, he read again all the information Catarina Loss gave him. He should talk with some people. Check some places. To think about it.

“Ty?”

“Yes?” he looked at Livvy.

“When is Kit starting?”

Ty thought about it for a second. “Right now.”

•

Well, Kit thought. These guys are intense.

He watched, sitting on a chair, as Ty and Livvy together "prepared" for the case. Ty cleaned up one table, while Livvy moved the London's map closer to the see-through board. At some point they were finished and Livvy sat on the same chair she was sitting on during Kit's interview, while Ty remained standing.

“Let's retell get the case from the beginning,” Ty said and grabbed his notebook. “Before four days, on 10th October Ragnor Fell arrived in London, around 2 p.m. After that, around 4 p.m he and Catarina Loss met on George Street, in a restaurant whose name is unknown. They sat there no more than three hours and left between 6 and 6:30 p.m. This is the last time Catarina sees Ragnor. The next day, 11th October, they should have met at Arthur Street at 11 a.m. but Ragnor never appears.”

He looked up from his notebook and said, “Do I miss something?”

“I don't think so,” Livvy, who had written fast while her brother was talking, shook her head. She turned to Kit as she was handing the paper to Ty. “This is the 'skeleton' of the story. The very basics we know. The details come after this.”

Kit nodded, fascinated by the team they were. What was Kit even doing here? It was obvious the twins worked well together - they didn't need a third wheel.

“Now,” Ty said slowly, looking at the paper with the information Livvy wrote on. “Ragnor told Catarina the secret during their meeting on 10th, correct?” On another list, which he pinned next to the first one, he carefully started to write what he just said. He was making a timeline, Kit realized.

“Correct,” his sister said. “Also, in the same conversation he mentioned he's going to meet with a person named Raphael Santiago, but it's unclear when and where.”

Ty wrote that too.

Then he stared at it, tapping the pen on his hand.

“Do we know when he comes from?” Kit suddenly asked.

They both turned their heads at him at the same time. A little creepy but impressive.

“What do you mean?”

“I was talking about Ragnor and his train. Do we know where the train started from? Or from where Ragnor was before arriving here?”

Ty intensely searched his journal. “I don't think so.”

“It's probably not important anyway…”

“It may be,” Ty just said and took one more paper, wrote something on it and pinned it on the other side of the list with the 'skeleton'. “This is the first thing we're going to check tomorrow.”

For a few more hours they discussed the case. It was Ty mostly and Livvy. Kit was only following their conversations (and Ty's monologues), adding some little details time to time.

He was amazed. After spending a few hours in their company he could understand why "Blackthorn Detective Agency" had this reputation.

Kit looked at the clock on his hand and stood up. “I'm sorry but I have to go.”

It was almost 6 p.m. His father would wonder where he was.

“All right,” Livvy said. “Come here tomorrow morning. Nine a.m. Or earlier.”

Kit shivered. So early. But he only nodded and left.

•

Kit was running down the street. The wind was blowing in his face, his lungs were burning. He could barely stop in front of the door of "Blackthorn Detective Agency". Kit took one deep breath and entered.

Ty was in the lobby, sitting on one of the armchairs. He was reading his notes, in one hand holding a calabash pipe and in the other - his journal.

He glanced at Kit. “You're late.”

“I'm sorry,“ Kit said. It was his first day - it was a bad impression to be late, wasn't it? “I didn't correctly estimate how long it would take me to get here. I promise it won't happen again.”

“Good,” Ty said, closing his notebook. He got up from the armchair and grabbed the overcoat that was on the other.

He was as tall and handsome as yesterday. Under the overcoat he was wearing clothes similar as the day before - only the shirt was green. The braces remained the same.

“Let's go.”

“Shall we not wait for Livvy?”

“She is not coming with us.”

“Oh. All right.”

Ty eyed him as they were leaving the building. “Are you disappointed?”

“Well. No. Just surprised I suppose.”

Ty seemed like he accepted his answer. They walked side by side on the street.

“Where are we going? To the train station?”

“We shall,” Ty said. “But our first stop is Ragnor's apartment because it's closer. Then we'll take a taxi to the train station.”

“Sounds good.”

They walked together in the chilly London. Kit could see his breath in the air. The streets were rather empty. Maybe it was because it was too early? Anyway, he liked it this way. It was calm.

“So,” Kit said. “Why do you choose to call yourself Sherlock? Where does it come from?”

“Livvy came up with it,” Ty said, glancing around the street. Maybe he was searching for Ragnor's apartment. “And I'm not Sherlock.”

Kit was so shocked he stopped walking for a second. Then he caught up with Ty and asked, “Wait, you're not Sherlock Holmes? Then who is it?”

“Well,” Ty said and turned towards the street on the left. “It's Livvy and I. Although she probably will disagree.”

“Interesting,” Kit said absently. This explained some things. Like why no one could tell how Sherlock looked or his age. Even if he was male or female even though most people thought it's a man.

“This is it,” Ty said and they stopped in front of a tall but narrow building, reminiscent of a tower. “I believe Ragnor's apartment is on the third floor.”

Instead of entering the building from the main entrance, they went around to the rear entrance. While they climbed the stairs (because around the elevator too many people would see them), Kit asked, “Do you have a key to the apartment?”

“No,” Ty simply said.

“You say we're going to break in?”

“Well, technically, yes. But Catarina Loss said we should do everything we can to find him. Even if this includes "some not so legal actions", in her words.”

“Dear god,” Kit murmured. “So, we, kind of, have her permission to break in her friend's apartment?”

“That's right.”

Does he know how to do that? Kit thought but didn't say it. He probably knew. This was Sherlock Holmes (or at least half of it).

They quietly sneaked throughout the floor, until Ty stopped in front of room 66B.

He frowned at it.

“What is it?” Kit said.

“It seems that the lock is not... what I expected it to be,” Ty sounded deeply displeased when he said it.

Kit signed. He didn't want to seem like a criminal but desperate situations require desperate measures.

“Have you brought some instrument to open the door?” Kit said, already looking at the lock. “Small screwdriver perhaps? Or something like it?”

“I did,” Ty said absently, tapping with his foot. He was probably thinking of other ways to open the door without breaking it. Well, with a bit of luck Kit was going to do it for him.

“Can you give it to me? I want to try something.”

For a second Ty just looked at him but did as Kit asked.

Kit took the little object and kneeled in front of the door. The lock was better than he expected from a place like this but nothing unbearable.

After a few minutes, a few clicks and pressure on the mechanism Kit unlocked it. He stood up and gave the screwdriver back to Ty.

Ty was looking at him with amused eyes. “Unexpected but very helpful. Thank you.”

Kit felt warm and smiled. He wasn't used to people complimenting him. Shyness he didn't know existed in him woke up and he just said, “Nothing special. You're welcome any time.”

Ty gave him a thoughtful look for a second but didn't say anything.

They walked in the Ragnor Fell flat. It was a rather simple room. Pale red wallpapers, boring green sofa. A dresser and a desk with a few books about Spanish language on it. Bookshelf and a few plants. In the end of the room was a door, as boring as everything else here, that was probably the bedroom.

“This doesn't make sense,” Ty said, looking around the room. He approached the desk and looked at the books.

“What? That this flat is awfully boring for a warlock to live in? If so, yes, you're right.”

“No. I mean,” Ty ran a hand through his hair. “You have a point. I suppose. But I meant that such a warlock as him would protect his own flat at least. We get into it too easy. There were no spells, no protection, nothing. This is strange.”

Kit closed the door to the apartment and stepped in it. “Maybe he just didn't have the time?”

Ty shook his head, opening a drawer in the desk. It was empty. “Between his meeting with Catarina and his arrival in London are two whole hours. After that too, if we guess he hasn't been kidnapped right after meeting her.”

“Fair point.”

Kit looked around as well, approaching the door. There really wasn't anything interesting. Most of the books were classics, the sofa looked old but unused. Kit opened the door to the bedroom which creaked quietly.

This room was even simpler. One big bed, two nightstands on both sides of it and one more wood door, probably for a bathroom or closet. At one of them though there was a frame. As Kit took it in his arms he saw it was a black and white photograph. In the middle Kit recognized Catarina Loss - she was smiling quietly with crossed on her chest arms. On the right was a tall guy with cat eyes and a big smile, maybe a little drunk.

Kit decided the man on the left was Ragnor - he couldn't imagine a guy like the other one would live in place like this. Maybe-Ragnor looked grumpy and annoyed but Kit could see in his sparkling eyes that he was happy. He probably loved his friends but would never admit it.

On the right corner with a thick pen was written 'Peru,1890'.

“Did you find something?”

Kit looked a little startled at Ty. He almost forgot they were here to investigate. Almost.

“Something,” Kit repeated. He handed the frame to Ty and watched as his grey eyes were running through the photo.

“Peru, 1890,” he said thoughtfully. “This photography is from more than 40 years ago.”

“It's the only personal piece here. Probably in the whole flat, except the Spanish books.”

“You have a point,” Ty agreed. “But this is not his-”

A sharp sound interrupted him. It was the front door. Someone was trying to break it.

Kit breath stopped. Before he could do anything Ty grabbed his arm, opened the wood door and dragged them both inside.

Ty closed the door to the narrow dark room. Kit couldn't see anything. The only material thing was Ty's body against him. A moment later they heard how the stranger broke the lock and their steps as they came inside.

To be continued...