#i bought 4 in the past week i will not succumb again

[casgirlisms]

i need to buy more dolls .

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Never Too Late 2

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (later in series)

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re turning forty and life seems to be forging ahead on its one way track, that is until you meet Steve Rogers.

Note: Things are... going. But I’m doing my best.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It was about time you started doing something. Past due, you’d say. Your body was screaming for it. You were no longer the college grad who could sit and eat potato chips to her heart’s desire. Or the thirtysomething in denial of the looming 4-0. No you had stepped upon the threshold and you felt and saw the changes which came with another decade.

And yet, the simple act was daunting. Your old beat up sneakers squeaked as you descended the stairs of your building to the street. You wore a pair of thin track pants you’d bought years ago on the unspent whim of a New Years’ resolution. Your sports bra was new and uncomfortable; the tank top a bit too tight for your liking. 

You did your best to stretch outside. You kicked your foot up against the brick and lunged a few times forward and back. Your muscles were stiff from inactivity; from years of neglect; from time. You hopped in place as worked up to your departure. 

You began at a slow jog. You reached the first corner out of breath.

You were old. Accept it.

You continued and wove your way to the park where few others paced themselves around the fountain and winding paths where happy owners walked their happier pets. Another breather as you gasped. The sweat gathered under the cotton shirt and created a humid tent in the pants. 

You gripped your hips and stared ahead. Keep going. You pushed off your heels and bent your arms as you fought your way through the tension in your chest, the burn in your lungs, the ache in your knees. One day at a time, it would get easier. You hoped.

You wondered how you’d manage to fit in your new regime on workdays. A morning run would mean even earlier days; likely shorter nights. You’d have to make it work. You didn’t have another ten years to wait around; if you did, it might be too late to change.

You were tired. Of the years passing like second. Of the tedium. Of nothing happening. Of failed hopes. Of pointless relationships and temporary stability. You weren’t where you wanted to be and you’d likely never get there but there were other desires in life. Other achievements to be made.

Your mother could resent you for your singleness; your lack of familial bliss. She could not begrudge you entirely. Not if you bettered yourself. Not if you turned it around and tried. Not if you set aside your passivity for proaction. Because it was your life, not hers.

When you got back to your building, you were ready to collapse. The old elevator was still out of order. It’s old grated doors marked with an X of tape and a handwritten sign. You dragged yourself up the stairs and stumbled inside. You downed a glass of water and splayed over your single armchair. Your heart slowed as you flipped on the television and checked off day one in your newly downloaded app.

👟

Day two. Exhausted and still sore, you made yourself go. You had an hour before you had to be back to shower and ready for work. The day seemed even longer ahead of you. Eight hours at a desk in pain, dealing with the frustrated public. It was worse than you could imagine. Your night was spent with an ice pack and half-dazed.

Day three, four, five. A tic in your phone which barely felt worth it. Six almost saw you giving up as you ambled around work with splints in your calves. Seven, another day off, but you still had work to do. You pulled on your freshly washed track pants and a loose tee. The last days of summer approached but the heat had yet to relent. 

You took your usual route to the park. You stopped at the entrance and stretched a second time. You found it was helping. The pain was duller, the aches less spread out. You set off and found your step. A week and you could already see the ounce of improvement. Well, inside more than out.

You measured your breaths as you neared the curve shrouded in trees; leaves still lush and aromatic. Soon enough, they’d darken and drop. Time was like footsteps. Each one forward took you further from where you were and yet you could feel like you were standing still or come to a startling stop that left you hurtling into the void.

Like then. Your worn treads slid over the ground as you collided with the unexpected runner coming your way. Your eyes had been above him, staring at the rounded tree tops and their sprawling branches. On the early morning hues that cast the sentinels in a placid mural.

You stumbled back, your hands reaching back to catch yourself but you never met the ground. Two thick hands caught your upper arms and steadied you. You looked up, both surprised and not by the face staring back at you. Both familiar and not. After so long in the city, the last two weeks had seen as many run-ins with Steve Rogers. More, now.

“You,” He smiled as he slowly released you, his fingers tickled your arms. 

“You.” You echoed dully. 

“Small world,” He chuckled.

“New York isn’t that small,” You said. “You must think I’m some weirdo.”

“Or maybe I’m the weirdo?” He ventured. “Didn’t peg you as a runner.”

“Wow, thanks,” You scoffed. “And I’m not. Well, wasn’t. New hobby.”

“New?” He raised a brow.

“One week,” You shrugged. “Not much and I’m sure once it’s cold, I’ll go back to my sloth,” You said. “Uh, sorry about… wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Not at all. Neither was I.” He smiled. 

“Well, I, uh…” You looked past him, “Have a lot to go.”

“Can I join you?” He asked. You squinted at his eagerness. 

“Weren’t you going…” You pointed over your shoulder.

“I just do circles,” He said. “Doesn’t really matter which direction.”

“I’m not very fast.”

“It’s not a race.”

“Alright,” You threw your hands up, just wanting to get it over with. “But if you feel like leaving me behind, don’t think it’ll bother me.”

“Come on,” He turned so he faced the same direction. “It’s always easier with company.”

You exhaled and righted yourself before you fell back into a jog. He kept pace beside you. You could smell his sweat. You tried to keep your breathing quiet.

“I used to run with my pal Sam but… he joined a gym.” He said. “So, new hobby?”

“Hobby is putting it… nicely,” You huffed. “More like trying to make up for my own laziness.”

“It’s never too late to make a change,” He preened. “You got any other hobbies? Maybe something you enjoy more?”

You glanced at him. Your chest hurt but you didn’t want to slow down.

“Cross-stitching? Tetris?” You offered. “Nothing special. Just… life.”

“How’s work?” He asked.

You were silent as you kept running. You listened to the sound of your foot falls as your breath came faster.

“I--” You came to a stop and turned to him as you touched your side. “Forgive me for being a bit--confused but--” You gulped. “Don’t you have friends? Super friends?”

“Co-workers,” He said and his hands went to his hips. “Oh, maybe you already have enough friends then.”

“Look, I’m forty, I work the same job I had sixteen years ago, I live in a box, and I’m falling apart,” You shook your head. “Not many people are trying to be my friend. All my friends have families; obligations.”

“Well, it sounds like we have a lot in common,” He grinned. “So we should be great friends.”

You frowned. His optimism was irksome. His refusal to be rebuffed more so.

“Friends?” You repeated darkly.

“Maybe just running buddies?” He suggested. “I do get a bit lonely out here with just the chipmunks.”

“Steve.” You uttered.

“And I think you need someone to keep you on the right path, hmm? I’ve been told I’m a great motivator. Bit of a hard ass but I’ve got a talent and I use it.”

You considered him. He was right. An app wasn’t going to keep you going forever. Already, you were tempted to drag the little icon to the bin. Already you were tempted to sleep in. Already you were succumbing to failure. 

“You sure?” You asked.

“What time do you usually run?”

“Well, weekdays, I head out at six, back home at seven, then off to work,” You explained. “Weekends I get an extra hour of sleep.”

“Alright,” He turned and set off. You followed. “I can’t promise every day. Lots of work out of town but weekends at least.”

“You really don’t--”

“Maybe if you start saying yes, you’ll find what you’ve been looking for,” He intoned. 

You grumbled and pressed your lips together. He was right. You hated that he was. Something about this man both intrigued and disturbed you. He was kind but with a hint of pushiness. You just couldn’t decide if his insistence was merely clueless or something more deliberate.

👟

Another week and the mornings were easier, though the days continued to drag. Steve met you again on Monday and Tuesday but Wednesday he was gone. You didn’t mind so much but he returned on Saturday. He waited for you at the park entrance, a wrapped box in his hand. You were curious but not nosy.

You slowed as he greeted you.

“Hey,” He smiled. “I didn’t realise until after I’d gone that I had no way to tell you I’d be away.”

“It’s fine.” You assured him. “Think I managed just fine on my own.”

“Work,” He said. “But a quick mission so I can’t complain.”

“I saw you on the news,” You looked towards the fountain that stood further inside the park. “I figured.”

“Still, I think maybe… I’d like a more direct line.” He pulled out his phone as he kept the box under his arm.

“Are you asking for my number?”

“In case anything happens,” He said. “I mean, we’re not strangers.

“Sure, but…” You wetted your dry lip with your tongue. “Okay. Um, I don’t have my phone on me but I can give you my number.”

“Great, I’ll text you.” He unlocked his cell and carefully keyed in your details as you recited them. He replaced the phone in the strap around his bicep. “There. Your very own on-call hero.”

“Right,” You nodded slowly.

“Oh, and…” He grabbed the box from beneath his elbow. “Happy belated birthday.”

“What? Uh, I can’t. You already--”

“A cake? Really. Everyone should have a cake on their birthday.” He held out the gift. “And presents too.”

You looked at the small square box. You chewed your lip and shifted your weight on your feet.

“It’s really nothing special.” He urged. “If you’re wondering, July fourth,” He pointed to himself. “So you’re in the clear.”

“Steve--”

“I already got it and… it’s not really my colour,” He shoved it closer. “Please.”

You slowly took it as you gave a quiet thank you. You carefully slipped a finger in the crease of red wrapping paper and tore it open. A dusty pink smart watch shone back at you. You blinked and looked up at him.

“The guy at the store said you sync it with your phone and it can count your steps and all that. Send you reminders.” He rubbed his neck. “I thought it would be useful. Especially when I’m away.”

You tilted your head at him then looked back to the clear plastic window of the box. It was expensive, you could tell. 

“It’s… a lot.” You said. 

“It’s a gift. It’s not about the price tag,” He shrugged. “Come on. Try it on.”

You scratched your hairline and muttered. You went over to a bench and sat as you worked at opening the box. You took out the watch and admired its round face. He offered to do it up for you and you turned your wrist over. He secured it and you held up your hand as you looked it over.

“You like it?” He asked. “They had gold but I liked the pink.”

“Nice color,” You affirmed. “I guess… I guess I can use it.” You lowered your arm and hid the watched with your other hand. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. It’s what friends do,” He stood and gathered the packaging. “You don’t need all this, do you?”

“No,” You stood. “Thanks.”

He tossed it in a bin surrounded by hedges and you neared.

“Well, should we get going?” He asked.

“Yeah. Maybe an extra lap today?” You said. “Push myself a little.”

[luhlust]

Hey, uh idk if I asked this already but can you do a Hatsuharu x Reader based on episode 4 season 2 of Fruits Basket? Because, in that episode Hatsuharu had his meltdown. But instead of him having a meltdown because of Rin it’s because you two and dating and had an argument? And uhm basically instead of him grabbing Tohru, he grabs you. And Kyo like punches him bc y’all are good friends~ and the ending is all fluffy and him apologizing for the argument or whatever. (Sorry if this is confusing)~~

Choose Me

Anime: Fruits Basket

Pairing: Soma Hatsuharu x Reader

Overview: Hatsuharu has been spending a lot of time with Rin making you, his girlfriend, jealous ending up with a huge rampage.

Note: I KNOW YOU SAID INSTEAD OF RIN IT SHOULD BE THE READER BUT I THINK IT'S CUTER THIS WAY. I hope you don't mind~ PLUS IM DONE WITH ALL THE REQUIREMENTS AND IM STILL STUDYING BUT THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST AND I CAN'T HELP BUT WRITE IT. I love Hatsuharu so much.

•-–-•

You really understand Hatsuharu's relationship with Rin. Maybe, a little too much. You were there for him afterall, helping him cope up with her behaviour, letting him cry on you, you supported Hatsuharu. You love him.

You grew to love him just by being together with him was enough for you so when Hatsuharu confessed he too, fell for you, you couldn't believe it, until his lips touched yours, cloud of smoke blinded your eye, laughing as you stared at his Ox form.

You knew Hatsuharu would need a lot of time to fully move on from Rin so you were okay with letting Hatsuharu settle the phase for your relationship.

Lately, Hatsuharu has been spending less time with you to take care of Rin who once again, escaped from the hospital. You didn't mind how he would abruptly go to her side, you didn't mind how he called you to cancel your plans with a short apology, you didn't mind if he kept choosing her over you.

That is before you reached your tipping point.

When Hatsuharu went back to your shared apartment, he really just wanted to sleep. Rin's words continued to ring in his ear, he is beyond exhaustion. He is not in the right state to hear your complaints.

"So, I just want to have your time! I bought us some tickets to th-" "God, can you just please shut up!"

Hatsuharu glared at you, slamming his bag across the room. Your throat suddenly became dry, hands balled into a fist. Hatsuharu immediately wanted to punch himself for bursting on you like that, he was just so annoyed but even he, himself knew it was not a good excuse.

"(y/n)..." He fumbled on his words, what can he say in a situation like this? He wanted to comfort you, his hands were shaking. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you walked passed him and entered the bedroom, leaving Hatsuharu to contemplate on his actions.

"Fuck.." He clicked his tongue.

Hatsuharu grabbed a bottle of water and drank to calm himself down. When he heard the door opened, he turned around and was ready to apologise but his eyes trailed to the duffel bag you were carrying.

"Where are you going?" He questioned softly, even if he already knew the answer. He was hoping it wasn't what he was thinking. "Away." You smiled at him, masking your emotions like you always did.

"Let's break up, Haru. No, Sohma-kun." Hatsuharu's eyes widened, speechless. You took his silence as a que to leave. Mustering up all your strength, you grabbed the doorknob, twisting it to open the door. Hatsuharu acted fast, he slammed the door close, trapping you against it.

"No. You're not going anywhere! C-Can't we fix this?" His voice cracked, he can't let you leave him. You were the only one who understood him, only one who accepted him as a whole! "Please...(y/n)..." Tears streamed down his face, the sight of him broke you more, you had to be strong. Cupping his face, you wiped his tears, trying to soothe him.

"I'm sorry Haru. You kept on choosing her and I kept on choosing you." Biting your lip, you kissed his forehead, Hatsuharu melted against your touch.

"Let me choose myself this time."

Hatsuharu felt like time slowed down as you slipped away from his grasp.

The door closed and he broked down.

He hasn't heard from you for a week.

It was difficult to be away from him, everything just screamed for you to go back and wrap your arms around him. You stayed with Kyo for the mean time, telling them that your apartment was undergoing a few construction and Hatsuharu decided to stay at the main state.

They really didn't question you a lot, you were that good at lying and hiding plus they are your friends too. You continued on with your life, trying to distract yourself. You were currently asked to bring some materials to Tohru's room. "Oh, (y/n)! That looks heavy!" She mused, standing up to help you settle the materials on the teacher's desk.

You stayed for a while, laughing at how they teased Kyo with Tohru. Sometimes you just want to smack the two at how oblivious these two are to their feelings. Seeing them, reminded you of Hatsuharu. Your heart dropped, spacing out of the window, you wondered if he's doing well.

There's something off about the day, you just felt anxious, like something bad is going to happen.

"Oh, Haru turned dark and is currently on a rampage during the homeroom!" Momiji grinned. "What? Why didn't you say earlier!?" You and the others dashed out of the room, bumping towards several people.

You could hear him breaking the windows, the other students and teacher were ourside frightened. You entered the room, everything was a mess.

Kyo immediately tried to talk some sense into him. "Shut up stupid cat. You're very existence causes trouble for us, all! Stupid cat!" His remarked annoyed Kyo immediately.

"Haru, I don't know why you're causing a rampage, but you shouldn't do that here." Hatsuharu clicked his tongue. You knew this was your fault, you knew why he was angry. Seeing him at this state, made you doubt if your decision was right. "Princess Yuki is such a worry-wart. Afraid I'll accidentally transform on my rampage?" His eyes met yours, a frown replacing his smirk.

"What? You're here? How lame." You stepped closer, hands up in surrender. "Haru, stop it. Calm down." Your voice angered him even more. "Stupid. Stupid. So damn, stupid! You're so twitchy, you'll feel a lot better if everyone would know." He reached out to you, grabbing your arm roughly.

"H-Haru...it hurts..." His grip around you tightened, pulling you closer until Kyo punched him. "I don't care what's your problem but is that how you should treat your girl?!" Kyo placed you behind him, shielding you from Hatsuharu.

"What's it to you? She's not my girl anymore." Hatsuharu's words struck you, you felt yourself losing your composure. "Oh I see. You went for the kitty cat didn't you? I shou-" You cut him off with a slap. His cheeks immediately became swollen, everyone stood shocked at the scene. "Enough, Haru..." You walked out of the room, eyes following you everywhere.

Your steps became faster as the time passed, slowly turning into a full sprint. You didn't know where you were going, you just wanted to get out of there.

The teacher managed to settle the issue down by pouring water to both of them, calming Hatsuharu in a snap. After some counselling, Hatsuharu met up with the others, apologizing for his behavior before noticing you were not there. "Where's (y/n)?" He managed to choke out, it was clear to them that he was very anxious.

"She ran out and we haven't seen her since earlier." Tohru answered, fidgeting, not knowing how he would react.

Hatsuharu excused himself, wanting to look for you. You couldn't have gotten that far, he knows you enough to know where you would go. He reached the door to the rooftop, staring at it blankly. You were crying, he was sure of it, so why can't he just open the damn door?

He was scared.

Scared of what you would say to him, scared to lose you more.

"Triple shit." He cussed, letting the door open, hands shielding his eyes from bright rays. He immediately saw you sitting down, music blasting through your phone.

Your eyes were closed but you knew he was there, a shadow loomed over you. You refused to open your eyes, you too were afraid.

Is this what happens when you fall inlove? Is this what love really is? To be afraid of one another yet still want to cling to one another even knowing the fact that they can hurt you anytime?

Hatsuharu doesn't care about anything anymore, he can't let you go, he could never let you go. You were more important to him, he was just selfish. He couldn't let go of the past but he wants a presen and a future with you.

Hatsuharu is more than willing to put his past behind and put you first, that's what he realised during those days of solitude.

He grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him, still being wary of not hugging you to close in order to prevent himself from transforming despite how startled you were. "Haru...?" You whispered, hands automatically finding its way around his body.

"Ah, I know now.." He smiled, enjoying the way your body tangled. "Home. I never realised it before. (y/n), you're my home." He buried his head against your neck, letting himself succumb to your scent.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry for not being a good boyfriend. I know, I don't deserve you but you can count on me to make me deserve you, if you let me. Will you let me back?" You stared at him, nodding softly, before leaning in for a kiss.

Hatsuharu pulled you closer, his hand behind your head, deepening the kiss. It was desperate but passionate, the two of you missed each other. You love him, even if it hurts.

But is it really love if it doesn't hurt at all?

Your back was against the concrete, Hatsuharu straddled you, pinning you down as he continued to place kissed along your neck. "H-Haru! We can't do this he-ahh." Smirking upon seeing the purple hue on your neck, you smacked his chest. "But (y/n), let me show you how much I love you." He pouted, why did he have to be cute. Your fingeres played with his two-colored hair, you're really an idiot to this idiot.

"Yeah, yeah. Save it in closed doors will 'ya?" You stiffened, seeing Kyo and Yuki in the other side with a small tint of pink dusted on their cheeks. You immediately became flustered unlike Hatsuharu who calmly complained. "You guys are a cockblocker."

Tohru peered in, confused at why they are standing si stiffly. "Kyo? Yuki? Did you find the-" "IDIOT! DON'T LOOK!"

Hatsuharu had to leave to continue talking with his parents. He got suspended for a week while you were "sick" for a week as well.

Hatsuharu made it up to you for a whole week, assuring you that you will now be his first choice. You didn't have to worry about Rin anymore becuase everytime he needed to visit her, it was with you. He would always shield you if things became a little complicated, covering your ears when she said spiteful words, making me drag you out. That was the last time he visited Rin.

Now he's very clingy to you! Devoting his time and energy to you and only you. "(y/n), why are you too close with Yuki. I don't like it." Hatsuharu held you close, glaring at Yuki who just let out a sigh.

"Love birds."

[1000roughdrafts]

Family Secrets: Chapter Fourteen

Town That Never Stops Smiling 

Summary: Being transported to Teraw leaves you tired and confused, but the path to the truth is a long and needy road. 

Warnings: slight angst, slightly OOC Dean 

W/C: 3.2k

Masterlist/schedule

The four of you walk in silence through the field and onto a dirt road. Walking towards the bridge, you peer over at the glistening water underneath it. Dean squints at her, shaking his head, "all right. So where we headin'? Motel? Get some grub?"

Allanah giggles, "no. Here, there are no hotels, as they have no need for them. No one is allowed to travel between the regions without a request from the Head of the Region. From there, the Head provides them with a place to stay, whether that be in his or her own quarters, or at a volunteers. On the topic, we need to be careful about how we interact with the people and places here. It's big enough that we won't be noticed right away, but if we stay in one place too long there are going to be issues," Allanah says while you make your way to the start of the bridge.

"Uh, so what happens if we do get caught?" Sam asks in a whisper, looking around at the decaying bridge and trees that surround it.

As sweet as can be, Allanah smiles, "think American TSA meets intense CIA interrogations," she smirks. "In other words, let's just not get caught." Dean frowns which puts her attention onto him, "you're going to struggle with this the most, Dean, I can already feel it. But Y/N, you've felt it deep down, haven't you? A mother's love is not to be taken lightly, even beyond death."

You keep quiet, peaking over at Dean. He holds contempt in his face, trapped behind that stoic expression but easy to see the swirl of emotion in his eyes. He wants to scream out and ask questions, but what could he say? He has children, or at least a past version of him did and he knows nothing of it, but Y/N does? 

Luna - June 26, 2068

Teraw - Region 3

Complete darkness goes so well with shattering silence. I have known nothing other than the darkness and cherish the quiet. The only thing I hate about the silence is that it traps me in a world of uncertainty. With nothing to grip onto, I succumb to the thoughts raging in my mind like an ocean under a full moon; but it is a beautiful thing.

Just as I am trapped in my mind I am trapped in my body. No movement in my arms, torso, hands, legs, feet or face. I can not open my eyes, nor can I move my lips. Absolutely nothing works anymore. Well, almost nothing. Miraculously my ears can hear anything from a train passing by to a mouse three stories down.

I am surrounded by so much noise in the day that I look forward to the treacherous words my mind whispers to me as I lay to sleep. I rely on my ears so much these days, as it's the only sense I've got left. There's this single sound I hear more than anything. It has a set pace, just as a metronome would tick along to keep the beat of a song. Beep. Beep. Beep. I don't live like many others, they say I'm lucky to be alive at all.

I hear my family as they trickle in, their footsteps are quick and loud. It breaks my concentration on the ticking. The stepping stops, I hear sniffling, deep breaths and then suddenly, "Luna, it's your mama. Can you hear me?" Yes, I hear you. I want to say it. 

"I should start at the beginning," Allanah sighs, slowing her walk to a gentle stroll. "The two of you, Shirley and Bill you used to be called," she laughs lightly. "You enlisted me as a," she motions her hand around, scrunching her face, "guardian of sorts for your five children, quintuplets," she laughs again. "Wren, Ana, Tullie, Aidan and Luna." 

You and Dean lock eyes, "Luna?" he says, pointing at you, "the girl that's-" 

"Indeed," Allanah lets out a long breath, watching the ground somberly. "It's very sad what has happened to her," she says. "There's evil in this realm that neither of you could predict. It's what sent me back to Earth, locked me out. It wasn't until after I'd ended things with Crowley and found Y/N that I remembered who I truly was and what you created me to be. I needed to do something, anything, to bring the two of you back to this realm to fix what had been broken." 

Coming to a stop at the start of the bridge, Allanah looks into her hands, "your children, they," looking back up between you and Dean. "They are very powerful, yet they don't know it. Not anymore, at least." 

"What do you mean?" Sam tilts his head. 

"Each of them possess qualities and powers of an element specific to Earth. When Bill and Shirley created this realm, you split the children up into regions. This was done to protect them, or so you said. Teraw was specific to Luna, but with you two gone and evil sneaking in, the regions had grown a mind of their own," she lowers her voice, "it's gotten out of control. Ana was born in Inequescent, but with the latest reincarnation, the family Ana was brought into grew tired and she was adopted by a family here in Teraw. What I know to be happening soon is that because of Luna's sickness, Tullie will be requested to come help her. Horrible things are in store for the regions, unless we can stop it.”  

"Like what?" Dean asks. 

"This evil... it wishes to gain control of the other regions. After that, other dimensions... like Earth." 

Tullie - June 6, 2068 Hemort - Region 4

A day off is a luxury when one has specialized skills in the medical profession, at least for those in Hemort. I usually try to wind down and relax on those two short days, or tune into my favorite channel to watch some gushy movies about how everything always works out in the end, and everyone is just so nice. They make me sick, and yet I can't bring myself to watch anything else. In my day to day life, I don't always get to see the happy endings. Moreso, with my line of work, I see death more than any sane person should. And that begs the question; am I really as sane as I believe myself to be? 

I admire the house on the screen and the characters who live in it, wondering what it would be like to have a big house with a yard and a cute dog who gets to enjoy it. There's not much of that here, only the Elite live on large plots of land. Instead, I rent this quaint apartment with the ceiling to wall windows I'd dreamt of having since I was young. When the new owner bought the complex, she planted the most beautiful garden and elegant, tall trees on either side of the building, which is better than the concrete nothingness that resided there before.

Pausing the movie, I unravel myself from underneath the blankets to make some tea, although I'd never be able to make it as calming and tasty as my mother had. The storm doesn't help to calm me either, with the trees rattling against the windows and begging to come inside. While waiting for the kettle to boil, I close the blinds and play the movie. I could stand to miss a little of it if it means I don't have to listen to that screaming sound the wind makes.

While adding honey to the mug in preparation, my phone rings. I'm not expecting a call, so I don't scatter to answer it. I pull the kettle and turn down the dial on the stove before going back to the couch to rummage through knitted blankets for my cell. 

"Hello," I say, putting the phone between my ear and shoulder as I make my way back to my tea. 

"Hi, Tullie," the voice says, calmly and sweetly. I spill boiling water onto my hands at the surprise, and curse myself for not checking the caller ID. How dare he call me at this hour. 

"What do you want, Dan?" 

After a heartbreaking pause, he speaks out, "this is not a personal call, okay? I don't care how you're doing. I don't want to know what you're doing. I don't even care if you're hiding from the storm in a cup of tea right now,  or watching those stupid puke inducing movies, I-" I hear him sigh, "this is about the hospital," he says swiftly. 

"Mine or yours?" 

"Why would I be calling about yours? Listen, I have my hands tied on a case over here. I could really use your help. No one has a clue on what to do. They put me on this, but," he pauses and his voice shifts down a tone, "I'm really in over my head." 

"How does no one there know what to do? Your hospital is the best out of all five districts." 

"This case is really strange, Tu-" 

"Don't," I sharply cut him off and take the phone in my hand before he can finish my name. "Please, don't call me that. It's Doctor Marion." 

There is a silence between us as I make my way back to the couch, gripping my mug with both hands and the phone resting back on my shoulder. 

"You know I wouldn't be calling you if I wasn't out of options, but this girl," he sighs. "She's been out for three weeks. There is nothing in her medical history that would help to explain her state. Her parents have no idea what happened, they said they just found her like this." 

"Okay, so assuming it's a coma," I say, mostly thinking out loud. Then back to him, I condescend, "are you sure it's not locked-in state? Er, what about psychogenic unresponsiveness?" 

"Of course, what do you take me for?" he says in a short, agitated breath. "Look, it's absolutely a coma with no explainable source. We've taken MRI's and Cat Scans and still can not locate the site of her brain that's causing it." 

"Were there drugs involved?" 

"No, we did blood work after taken her vitals. No drugs in her system, vitamin levels are all normal and we've been monitoring her brain waves while she's been here. It's like she went to sleep one night and just... didn't wake up." 

"It sounds like you've done everything I would have, so why are you calling me?" 

"Tu - Doctor Marion, I know you-" 

"No, you knew me," I softly yell, foolishly pointing a finger in the air as if he were in front of me. Quieter now, I keep a harsh tongue, "I'm not the same person I was then, you played a huge role in that. I changed myself for the better. I never wanted to hear from you again. The last thing I need is to be reminded..." I trail off before the tear in my eye can drop and listen to the actors giggling on the television. 

"Reminded of what?" Dan asks, in that same torturous way he'd always comforted me in the past. 

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to bed. You'll get an answer tomorrow." Forgetting the tea, I barricade myself in blankets and cry myself to sleep. 

As you walk along the bridge, Allanah continues, “for the first long while that I was here, things were fine. The churches were full, as were the pubs and shops. That’s the way many enjoyed it for a great while, but when those who opened their eyes fought back?” She sucks in air through her teeth, “well, let’s just say blood was shed, and tears were shared.” 

She moves her hands around and slows her steps, “allow me to take this back in time. They followed a set of standards. A hierarchy of social standings and if one was not near the top, they were not worth a loaf. The weight of one’s standing held in community intervention in threefold. It started with the preparation and bringing about of their first church. Many thought that if one was of fellowship they were among deities.” She laughs softly, “as I, the only guardian of this realm, knew there were no deities, just little old me. It was comical. And per the two of you, I was never allowed to step in or intervene.” 

“That’s stupid,” you mutter under your breath, watching your steps along the bridge. 

“Blacksmiths, clergymen, doctors and carpenters were just below, and seen as noble. Those however that farmed land, crops and livestock were seen at the bottom. Along with butchers, dairymaids, tailors, barbers, and the like were noted to be Sepulchers. It’s worth noting, that this system was not one that you two brought in place.” 

“Sepulchers?” Sam twists his face. 

“No one had an inkling as to why, but it was surmised that it was in reference to those folk being just as untitled as the many of the graves placed just outside of this bridge.” 

Dean folds his lips down in a nod, looking around at the piles of dirt outside of the river and under the bridge. 

“After segregating with an older congregating with an older woman who called herself Minerva, it was she that determined there was power in numbers. There were more of them than there were in the fellowship and just as one might catch a second wind, they found their strength. It started at first with the announcement. The Town Crier, also among the Sepulchers, had begun his course into the Town Whisperer, and could be found in the benighted area, or circumferential. They conspired many gatherings and prepared for battle, if need be so. The churches grew ever suspicious as their totality grew by the day. Minerva conducted the rough fifty to leave their work for another day,” she sighs, “and then another. This war lasted for years, reaching all five regions and the only thing that I could do was try and protect your children, and carry them through their reincarnations. I had made many, many attempts to reach out to the two of you and all had fallen short.” 

She focuses on the boards of the bridge and the squeaking they make as you walk over them, “a man by the name of Henry took to ending the war, and was appointed the Head of Teraw for his efforts. This man’s son is now the Head and Luna’s father in this realm. I wasn’t here to place them into the proper families,” she sighs, “and now I worry he’s stirring up trouble.”

Ana - June 6, 2068

Teraw - Region 3 

These briefings make me feel less of who I want to be. I understand the importance of putting together the minds of professional colleagues to come to a conclusion on how to move forward with whatever case we happen to be discussing. However, as someone who works in healthcare, forgive me for stating that I find them to be quite menial. It's usually the same act every day; Dan will turn up late, I drum my fingers on the table, Mary doesn't say a damn word and Nathan does most, if not all, of the talking. 

I'm mid-yawn through one of Nathan's monologues as a pink-haired woman wearing sweatpants, a tank top and a light cardigan walks in. I can only assume she is lost with the confusion draped on her face, so I stand to redirect her. Nathan, the natural born leader that he is, smiles and holds a hand out to her. 

"You must be Doctor Marion. I'm Chief Nathan Scott. Dean speaks very highly of you." Her confusion is overtaken by a smile as she accepts the greeting, "I understand your decision to be here was quite rash, so we'll excuse the lapse in dress code this one time," he jokes. 

I mask a chuckle by returning to my seat and shuffling through my papers. He pulls out his pocket watch and just barely inspects it before looking back up at her. With a careless wave of his hands and a slight shrug he says, "Dan should be arriving soon. If you know him like we do, you would know he's late to everything." 

She laughs softly, looking at her feet. "Go ahead and take a seat right there, next to Ana." He gestures over to me and smiles. I do not. "She doesn't bite, I promise." I might. 

"Enough," Nathan says as if he's heard one too many of Dan's jokes. Then again, we all certainly have. Dan glides across the room, briefcase in tow, and plops into the chair next to Mary. "First of all," Nathan goes on, sitting at the head of the table. He pulls a stack of papers from his own briefcase and shifts to Doctor Marion. "I need you to look over and sign these before we can proceed, for patient privacy and all that." 

"I understand," she squeaks out and inches her chair close to the table. She smiles when she's finished and pushes the papers back to Nathan, who inspects them thoroughly before carrying on with his speech. 

"Now, miss Luna's case is of high priority and exceptionally confidential." He classically folds his hands together and leans slightly into the table, facing me and the new doctor. "You see, her parents are what makes this town what it is." 

"And what is that, exactly?" 

"Powerful," I scoff. 

Approaching the end of the bridge, Dean grips onto your arm, pulling you to face him. “I want to know what’s going on. Damn it, Y/N, we haven’t talked in... ten months, and - and now we’re in an alternate dimension where apparently our kids live, and...” he flops his hands down at his sides, looking around before taking a step closer to you, holding up a finger, “and you knew about them?” 

“No,” you sigh, “I only had a feeling about it, I - I didn’t know for sure. I don’t even know how to explain it, it was just this gut feeling...” you trail off, not really understanding the whole thing yourself. 

Dean rolls his eyes, so you push on, “look, Dean, I’m sorry that you got dragged into this, but-” you take a deep breath, forcefully letting it out. He turns his eyebrows down, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what else to tell you,” you breathe. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That I never should have left? That I wish none of this was happening in the first place?” 

He continues to glare, and you take one small step towards him, your bodies merely inches from each other. 

“You never should have left, Y/N,” he scowls. “We were heading here from the beginning, Y/N. The only freaking difference is that we spent ten months apart from each other,” he says, voice crawling back into animosity. “I don’t know if I can trust anything you say to me now.” 

You drop your voice to a whisper, “I am sorry, Dean, for everything. I’m sorry that I left, again, but we - I can’t change any of that now, so we just gotta get through this, and when we get back home... if we get back home, we can go our separate ways if that’s what you want.” 

After a long pause, his face softens slightly, “no,” he says. Clearing his throat, his eyes move around your face, “no, Y/N. That’s the opposite of what I want. I want you. Even through all the shit we went through, I was happy with you. Why can’t you see that?” 

Next Chapter 

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[joonsgalaxy]

true care (m) |04

cr. ↰

→ pairing: bodyguard!Jungkook x female reader

→ genre: fake dating au, fluff/romance, angst, future smut

•  summary: your (endearingly) shy bodyguard—hired by your father—would do anything for you. even though you roll your eyes at his persistence and pretend there’s no need for him to follow you to every and any place you go, there might be many more hazards in your life than you let on. and you might end up needing him in more ways than you—or your father—would ever think.

word count: 7,6k

! warnings: mentions of toxic past relationship throughout the series; alcohol consumption

series masterlist

↠ chapter 4: pass me the glue so i don’t bleed

a/n: sorry if it sucks. hopefully it doesn’t lmao. oh btw i suck at replying to comments but pls be aware that i appreciate every single one and i read them like a hundred times each <3

The rest of the weekend seemed to last an eternity.

You stayed at home so you wouldn't have to see Jeongguk. You were studying without rest in an effort to preoccupy yourself with subjects of upcoming exams so you wouldn't hear Jeongguk's mellifluous voice humming in the silence of your room and wouldn't imagine your hand fitting perfectly in his for the umpteenth time. You thought that maybe not seeing him and not talking to him for a couple of days would help the rational side of you to take over; it would take the job of proving you that your feelings for him were a mere temporary illusion. There can't be any real feelings, because you only just started getting to know him. The boy was still quite a mystery to you. How could you possibly have already developed feelings for him? And this rational part of you sort of helped. In a way, all those things were complete true, after all. However, these thoughts weren’t the only ones begging for your attention. Jeongguk this, Jeongguk that, you kept on hearing in your mind. Sometimes in a whisper, oftentimes in a scream, overwhelming anything else that was happening within you. You felt like you had no control over it. It just kept on reoccurring, the images of him dancing before your eyes along with it. It was fucking torture. And there hadn’t been even two months since you broke up with another guy. How dare you think about Jeongguk in such a way so soon?

And there also was that thing about lies and lipstick stains tormenting your mind.

Come to think of it, it was your dad who was responsible for all your vexation. He was the one to blame for hiring Jeongguk as your bodyguard; he was the one to be careless and forget to wipe the lipstick smear from his cheek; he was the one having the audacity to tell you it was just a business dinner. He had ruined your weekend and potentially some weeks to come.

•

On Monday morning, at 10 past 8, you stepped out the house, carrying your bag filled with textbooks and your laptop, intending to leave the thoughts that were bugging you during the weekend behind.

As Mr. Ri was polishing a particular spot on the hood of the car by rubbing at it meticulously, Jeongguk and him were having a conversation. It was nice seeing them get along.

Only when you were mere feet away from the car did they notice you approaching.

‘Good morning,’ both of them greeted you in unison.

‘Good morning.’ You smiled back at them before locking eyes with the driver. ‘Did you pick Jeongguk up this morning?’

‘I sure did.’ answered Mr. Ri brightly.

‘Again, thank you,’ Jeongguk said, his shy yet grateful eyes meeting yours.

Smile tugging the corners of your lips, you lifted one shoulder in a flippant shrug. ‘I didn’t do a thing.’ It sort of was true. You only had to text the driver letting him know you wanted him to pick Jeongguk up from his home, for he didn’t have his own car to commute. And, looking back at Thursday night, they already had each other’s numbers, so they were able to easily communicate and arrange that.

As usual, after the driver pulled open the door for you, you occupied the backseat, and Jeongguk sat in the front.

•

The first class was called law of evidence.

Strolling down the hallway toward the auditorium with Jeongguk by your side, you spotted someone that made your heart accelerate and beat unpleasantly fast. There were two of Kwangsun's good friends standing alongside one of the walls. They were looking directly at you, faces inscrutable. Right in the middle of them, much to your exasperation, was the guy that you talked to Mina about recently. The one that had given you the message from Kwangsun himself; the very same guy that showed up at the party later the same day. Even if before there was still a sliver of possibility that Kwangsun didn't actually know the guy and he was some random dude that was randomly asked to give you the paper plane (later dropping by at the party, asking about you just because he was just interested in the drama that had surrounded you and your ex), now you were 100% sure that Kwangsun and him were in fact friends.

All three of them were blatantly staring at you and Jeongguk. What was their deal?

You told yourself you had no other choice but to grip Jeongguk by his hand and lead him into the auditorium. 'C'mon,' you said. 'The class starts in a few minutes.'

You felt Jeongguk tense up a little at the contact and the unexpected invite, but after half a second of consideration he dutifully complied and followed you to the auditorium.

If the mysterious guy was still trying to figure out your relationship status, this would show him that you were dating for sure.

If you had left Jeongguk in the hallway, who knows, maybe they would've come up to him and tried to pry answers from him. And that could've ended up in an utter debacle. Even if you knew that Jeongguk was capable of dealing with everything concerning his work, you didn't want to take any risks; you weren't about to give him such control over the situation, for you wanted to make sure everything went according to your plans.

'Let's go to the back,' you told Jeongguk as you were climbing up the steps toward the highest point of the huge room. You still had his hand in yours; he held it tightly. Only when you moved to take a seat in the very back, you let go of it.

He remained standing, a million questions reflecting in his eyes.

You patted the air just above the seat next to you, smiling welcomingly.

'Uh,' Jeongguk drawled, confusion written all over his face. 'Shouldn't I leave?'

'The class is about to start. Don't you wanna learn about law of evidence?'

He still looked perplexed. Jeongguk was startled by the change in your attitude about him being near you during class. At first you were opposed to the idea of him simply peeking into the rooms to make sure it was safe for you to enter; and now you were encouraging him to sit through the class right beside you. His wariness made complete sense.

He started saying something, 'I mean—

The professor entered the room, drawing everyone's attention toward her, including Jeongguk's.

'Quick!' You whispered. 'It's starting.'

He had no other choice than succumbing to your request and taking that seat next to you.

'Is this because of that guy in the hallway?' Jeongguk whispered as you were pulling your laptop out your bag.

Your eyes widened at that. 'What?' Had he noticed him, too?

‘YG, is it?’ Jeongguk knew the guy's name? 'He gave you the paper plane last week, and was at the party? He's your friend, right? You had to make this whole being a couple thing believable?'

Oh. 'Yeah, that's right.'

'So…' Jeongguk fiddled with his sleeve, glancing at the professor who was starting the lecture. 'Should I just sit here until the class ends?'

'Yeah, why not? Nobody cares, anyway. Aren't you interested in law of evidence?'

'I am,' he whispered enthusiastically.

Fascinated, he sat through the whole lecture, listening attentively.

It was fun seeing Jeongguk so immersed in the subject, so you invited him to some of the other classes that week, too. He had a pass card that allowed him to enter the faculty, so as long as it wasn't a test day or the professor wasn't one of those that loved to question people during lectures Jeongguk could easily go in and out of auditoriums without anyone paying attention to him. The authorities were aware he was your bodyguard, but other students and professors didn't need to know that; as far as they were concerned Jeongguk was just another student among the sea of others.

Sometimes you'd discuss the topics that the classes were about. He would ask questions and you'd try to answer and explain them to him as best you could. He complimented the way you managed to make intricate things sound simple, and he thoroughly enjoyed the examples you'd given him to make your point. The more sparkles in his eyes you noticed the more you were thrilled about telling him about the theories from textbooks and some ideas that you had of your own. The conversations would occur between classes or after them during the slow strolls around campus or sometimes, like on Thursday that week, at your favourite cafe named Symphony.

However, the law or interesting cases through history weren't the only things you two talked about. There was a little unpleasant surprise at the counter, and Jeongguk was curious about it.

'I was told to give you this again,' the cashier said, her hand held out to you, a sky blue paper plane on her palm.

Attempting to smother the irritation surging through your veins, you politely thanked her, even managed a smile. Having bought a cupcake and a cup of coffee, you sauntered to the garbage can and tossed the paper plane into it without even unfolding it and looking to see if there was a message written inside. You weren't interested in what he had to say to you.

When both you and Jeongguk made yourself comfortable onto the chairs behind one of the tables in the cafe, he asked, 'Some sort of secret admirer?'

'Huh?' Your mind was distracted.

'Sending you the paper planes?'

'Oh…' You didn't know what to tell him.

'I'm guessing Yoongi is only the messenger in this? Unless he's hitting on you and Mina at the same time?'

'No,' you answered with a tinge of distaste. 'He's… yeah, he's only a messenger.'

Jeongguk nodded, humming. 'So… do you know who's the admirer?'

'Uh—

'I mean, you don't have to tell my anything, if you don't want to.'

'It's not that. He's no one important.'

He looked at you sceptically over his cup of tea. 'Seems to go out of his way to make an impression, though.'

Yeah, quite a horrible impression. Kwangsun seemed to ruin every good memory you still had with him by doing all this unnecessary stuff. What an idiot.

'Well, I'm not really interested in him.'

'Oh, that's… sad.'

'So why are you smiling?'

His grin only widened; he tried to conceal it by lifting his cup up to his nose. 'It's just… the cupcake is exquisite.'

'You haven't even tasted it yet.'

'Even just the thought of biting into it makes me happy.'

You shook your head, chuckling.

After eating and talking about the day’s lectures you said, 'So… about tomorrow night.'

'Yes?' You had Jeongguk's full attention.

'Have you already talked to Mr. Ri about it? You both should be in front of my house at 7 pm sharp.'

'Yes, he picks me up at 6:40. We'll be there on time.'

'Good.' You nodded once. 'The dress code is black tie.'

'Yes, I'm aware. My suit is ready. What are you so anxious about?'

'Psh, I'm not. I'm used to these kinds of events, you know.'

'So you're worried about me.' His tone had a hint of bitterness.

'No… Yes.' You winced.

He pursed his lips into a thin line, exhaled. 'I memorized every exit, every window and every corner in the hotel. You don't have to worry about it. And I bought a suit. I won't embarrass you, miss ____.'

Your brow furrowed. He hadn't been calling you like that the whole week, since the Friday night when you ordered him to call you by only your first name. At all times. The boy looked offended and defensive, wanting to distance himself by acting like a professional employee. Just an employee and nothing else. That reminded you how much he wished to prove you and your dad that he was a capable bodyguard.

If truth be told, it hurt a little, just the tiniest bit. Without even realizing you started seeing Jeongguk as your friend, someone you could talk to about both school matters and your personal life. The way he addressed you at the café was a cutting reminder that he was certainly not your friend, and probably would never be. Especially when it was so important for him that you saw him as a skilful bodyguard.

'Of course not,' you said. 'I'm not worried about that. I just want everything to go smoothly. There's enough stress as it is.' That was complete truth.

.

•

You barely ever wore dresses or high heels, and it usualy wouldn't take an hour to get ready, but these kinds of events were an exception (it was the celebration of the bank your dad worked at being established 25 years ago). You had learned to act and dress the way people around you wanted you to. It was for your own good, your dad and grandparents used to tell you. You dressed and talked like the rich, well-mannered, educated girl you were and nobody looked at you twice; you blended in. It was easier that way. You'd go to an event, show everyone how well your father had raised you and, when the time was appropriate for leaving, you'd make your exit.

That Friday evening you wore a designer dress that you and your grandmother decided on buying two weeks prior. You squeezed your feet into a pair of high heels that you also hadn't wore before.

When you stepped out of the house, your driver as well as Jeongguk were already waiting outside for you. They were chatting, facing each other, which had become a usual thing. You had to pause and smile to yourself. Even if Jeongguk was turned to Mr. Ri, that didn't prevent you from observing how good he actually looked in that new black suit of his. A really well fitting suit, you had to admit. One hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other making vague gestures as he spoke, he exuded confidence, and he seemed relaxed.

You started toward the car again, cursing the high heels. (You were good at concealing the discomfort, though. Another lesson from your grandmother coming in handy.)

Jeongguk turned to face you, and, upon seeing your approaching form, he froze in spot. His lips parted ever so slightly and he looked almost dumbstruck. His gaze glided up and down your body as if you were naked or suddenly had turned into a flying car, something completely unexpected. As though just realizing he was being weird, he quickly pulled his hand out of the pocket and fixed his tie (which, by the way, looked expensive and very nice on him), self-consciously smoothing down the jacket after, wide eyes still glued on you. You liked to believe you weren't an arrogant person, but his reaction meant one thing only and was extremely flattering. You wondered if he'd have the courage to compliment you with words.

You didn't know exactly why (either he had forgotten about the order from last week momentarily or perhaps it was a way of complimenting you with actions), but Jeongguk abruptly stepped toward the back of the car and yanked the door open, holding it for you. You raised a surprised brow at him, but moved to get in the car anyway. But not before throwing a glance at Mr. Ri; he had a knowing grin plastered over his face, and he threw a hand in the air as if saying: “I’ll just let have him this one”.

After you climbed into the car, Jeongguk closed the door carefully. You could see his face, and he was blushing hard, probably just realizing at that moment that he was in a daze earlier and wasn't supposed to open the door. You chuckled.

During the trip to the hotel you could see he was nervous. He kept looking around a lot as if checking whether you'd already arrived or not. He was fiddling with the buttons of his jacket and carefully fixing his fringe from time to time.

When you stepped into the hall, he seemed rather tense. You completely understood him. That kind of situation could be overwhelming even for you, who had been to these kinds of events numerous of times. Even if you didn't really care about what all those people thought of you, admittedly, the self-consciousness grew by every passing second of standing there nearby the entrance.

‘Pretend they’re naked,’ you said loud enough for Jeongguk to hear you. ‘It’s a cliché, but it works.’

He gave a short laugh.

How should you introduce him?

You lost that train of thought, when your grandmother rushed toward you in her classic tiny steps. 'My darling! You look fantastic!' She looked you up and down. 'I told you those shoes would go with the dress. This is really good. I think he'll like it very much,' she said, her gaze jumping away as if searching for someone particular in the crowd.

'Who? What are you talking about?'

She completly ignored Jeongguk. He might as well have been a ghost attracted to your energy and yours only.

'I want you to meet someone.' Oh here we go.

'Maybe I don't want to meet him.'

'Oh, you do, don't be silly. You haven't even seen his gorgeous face.'

'And I don't intend to.'

'Quit it,' she muttered. 'He's a wonderful young man, and you'll marry him.'

'Woah, let's not get ahead of ourselves.'

'Let's get ahead. You have to think about your future. And when you meet him, I promise you, you will be the one wanting to propose to him right on the spot. But don't do that, of course,' she added as an afterthought.

'Oh, I don't know. Will I be able to control myself, if he's that great as you're describing.'

She shot you a glare that was supposed to show she wasn't fond of hearing any of your jokes right now. You shrugged as if saying you couldn't help it.

'He's so smart,' she resumed, looking around, gaze sweeping the crowd. 'Right up your league. Oh, I see him. He's alone. Come quick.' She beckoned you with an abrupt gesture, inviting you to follow her.

You breathed a sigh, turning to Jeongguk to offer him an apologetic smile that probably looked more awkward than anything, and then you followed her into the sea of the rich.

'How do you know him anyway?'

'I know everyone here.'

The man was admittedly handsome, suave and, even though there was no way of examining him there, seemed well educated and polite.

'This is Kim Seokjin.'

'Hello there,' he said smoothly, giving you a brilliant smile.

Your grandmother continued the introduction, 'Just a year ago he founded his company, and now it's worth millions! What a bright young man!' Could she at least try being a little more subtle? Gee.

'That's impressive,' you said.

Kim Seokjin, with a fair amount of inhibition, chuckled, momentarily lowering his gaze to the floor.

'____ here is studying law,' your grandmother told him, all proud and excited.

Seokjin looked at you. 'Oh, does she?'

'Anyway, I'm going to say hello to some people. You two feel free to talk more, get to know each other.' You almost expected her to wink at you.

You and Seokjin exchanged a knowing smile as if saying ugh, family.

'Yes, will do,' he said to your grandmother. 'Thank you for introducing us.'

She strode away, giving you the last tiny nod.

What now? These things were always awkward. Was he interested in you? Was he single and into girls, or your grandmother just assumed things as per usual?

'So…' Seokjin drawled while you were subconsciously biting your lip. You remembered you had lipstick on and released the flesh from the grip of your teeth. 'I'm guessing— I mean, I'm usually straightforward type of guy, so just let me ask you this… Did your grandmother introduce us because we’re similar in age and both single?' Well, he definitely wasn't joking about being straightforward. You liked that. But you didn't like him, well, at least not in the way your grandmother wanted you to. Even if he was dazzling and smart and had great taste when it came to fancy suits, you weren't looking for a relationship. Especially not in these events, and not with people that one of your family members introduced you to. You knew, you just knew it would be a hell of a challenge to date someone your grandmother knew, especially a man that she already wanted you to marry. You wouldn't ever be at peace dating him.

You had no idea if Kim Seokjin would be into you, but you had to make sure you wouldn't lead him on. You had to get away somehow from this ridiculous situation.

You glanced behind you while stuttering trying to answer him. You saw Jeongguk not far away from you in the crowd. You locked eyes. He was your solution. You decided on beckoning him over.

'Actually,' you told Kim Seokjin, 'my grandmother doesn't know about this, but…' Jeongguk appeared beside you, and, having mentally prepared to lie, you said, 'This is Jeon Jeongguk. He's my…' Good thing you didn't visibly cringe uttering the next words while gripping affectionately Jeongguk's arm. 'He's my lovely boyfriend.' That should be convincing enough, right? Even when lying to the smartest of guys.

'Oh!' Kim Seokjin didn't seem even the tiniest bit of disappointed.

Jeongguk's eyes held lots questions within them, he looked startled for half a second, but he had to quickly regain his composure, and, when he did regain it, he seemed as gleeful as ever.

'Pleased to meet you,' Jeongguk said to Kim Seokjin in a friendly tone, shaking the guy's hand.

'Um, so as I said my grandparents don't know about this, so I'd appreciate—

'Oh, of course!' Seokjin said. 'I get it. Dealing with family can be… complicated.'

'Yes, exactly. Thank you.'

Your hand was still gently touching Jeongguk's arm, when your gaze slid ever so slightly to the side, behind Kim Seokjin's shoulder. The smile that you were offering him started fading until it was completely wiped from your face. You lost the focus on the conversation you were having, because you saw your dad talking to a woman. Usually it would mean nothing, you wouldn't get distracted by it, but since your mind had been occupied by the speculations of his love life, you couldn't help but watch them intently as they, smiling brightly at each other, conversed about something amusing. By that point you were aware the two men that were standing near you were looking their way too, intrigued.

'Are you  looking at my mom?' You heard Kim Seokjin ask.

You looked at him. 'What? No, it's my dad.'

'Ok, but your dad is the CEO and  that lady talking to him, laughing… that's my mom.'

'Oh.'

She couldn't be his date from Friday night, could she? Because if she was then your grandmother would certainly not want you to marry her son. Well, unless she had no idea about it.

‘I don’t know how to ask you this, but…’ Seokjin said, glancing back at your father and the lady. Your eyes were focused on them too. Seokjin’s mother pecked your father on the cheek affectionately, but nonchalantly enough for other people to perceive it as something inconspicuous. You were 98% sure the lipstick colour on her lips was the same as you saw on your dad’s cheek on Friday night. ‘Do you think they might be dating?’

The question made your heart skip a beat.

‘Has your dad talked about it at all?’ Seokjin asked.

Not knowing how to answer him you just stared at him and tried to come up with something, but failed. You were definitely not telling him that your father lied to you about it as if you were a child.

You felt a hand gently touching your back in a soothing motion. You couldn’t be certain if Jeongguk was pulling an act because of Seokjin, or if the gesture was genuine.

Noticing the mild bewilderment on your face, Seokjin said, ‘I don’t mean to be rude, I just have my suspicions and my mom won’t talk about it with me. It’s just weird… I’m sorry if I offended you or…’

‘No. I—I too have some suspicions of my own.’

Your dad and Seokjin’s mother parted ways. Your dad was about to go on the stage and receive his award and whatnot.

'I think we could use this,' gesturing for one of the waitresses to slow down. He took two champagne glasses from the tray that the waitress was balancing on her palm and held them out for you and Jeongguk. You took it impulsively; Jeongguk hesitated. 'C'mon,' Seokjin encouraged him with a friendly smile and a tilt of head. He thought Jeongguk was your boyfriend, not a bodyguard on duty, and he didn't know Jeongguk couldn't consume any kind of alcohol that night.

Nevertheless, Jeongguk decided on plucking the delicate glass out from Seokjin grip, probably thinking that refusing would be too impolite of a gesture and could kindle some awkward tension between them.

Satisfied, Seokjin took another glass from the tray for himself. 'To family,' he made a rather sarcastic toast.

'To family,' you echoed him, tone laced with blatantly fake joy.

While Seokjin took a sip of the drink and Jeongguk just stood there without even taking the tiniest of sips you chugged the whole glass in one go. The bubbles felt quite unpleasant in your mouth and throat, but getting a bit tipsy seemed a very attractive thing at that moment. The men looked at you with surprised expressions on their youthful faces.

'What? I'm thirsty.'

They both chuckled, then shrugged.

You sighed, staring at the bottom of the glass. 'Why do you think they'd be hiding it?'

Kim Seokjin thought for a moment, took a swig of the champagne. 'Well, you're hiding something from your grandmother, too.' He glanced between you and Jeongguk, indicating he was talking about your (fake) relationship. 'I'm sure you have a good reason for it. Maybe they do, too.'

You bit your lip. 'Perhaps,' you agreed after a moment of mulling it over.

'Anyway, I think the speeches are starting soon, I should go find my seat.'

'Of course. It was nice meeting you.'

'You, too. Both of you.' He grinned and strolled away, his champagne glass still half full.

'You okay?' Jeongguk asked, concern settling over his face.

'Mhm,' you hummed with as much nonchalance as you could muster.

Another waitress was sauntering past you; you placed the empty glass on the tray she was carrying and snatched a full one. Without a second's thought you chugged that one down, too.

‘Woah,' Jeongguk breathed as you frowned, feeling the bubbles pop against your throat. 'Maybe you should slow down?' Jeongguk suggested.

You arched your brow at him. 'You think so?' You switched hands and grabbed the full glass that Jeongguk was holding. You let the champagne trickle down your throat again. You didn't know exactly what had gotten into you, but all you knew was you had to distract yourself from the thoughts of your dad or your grandmother and her plans of making you marry someone she thought was a good match. The alcohol was mildly starting to numb your brain and throat. Your face impulsively crumpled because of the horrible taste in your mouth. 'Yak, this doesn't taste right.'

'Nothing tastes right, when you consume too much of it.'

'Don't be a smartass,' you hissed.

He could barely control the grin that was threatening to break wide open. What was so funny?

He looked around. 'Shouldn't we go find our seats, too?'

You shrugged. 'I guess so.'

Your table was at the very front amongst a couple of other tables placed closest to the stage. The card with your name was meticulously planted on the white pristine tablecloth. Everything there screamed luxury. Honesty seemed to be a luxurious feature, too, not attainable even to you.

'I think my seat is somewhere in the back,' said Jeongguk, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. 'Have a great night. I'm going to—

'Wait.' You touched his elbow to stop him. He waited as you read the other cards sitting on the table. You recognized a couple of them—your grandparents' names—and paused on a third one that was next to yours. 'Have no idea who that is,' you said. Having made sure nobody was watching you, except Jeongguk, you discreetly tossed the card onto another table.

'Wha—what are you doing?' Jeongguk asked, his tone gruff as if he was reprimanding you.

You gripped his forearm and guided him to the table. 'Shut up and take a seat.'

He complied albeit reluctantly. 'This is not my seat.'

'Who says that? Do you see someone else's name anywhere?'

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line, ruminating on your question and the whole situation. He sighed, defeated. 'I guess not.'

'Here you go.'

A man strolled to the table, read the cards. His brows pinched together in confusion. He walked away, in thought. You giggled; Jeongguk forced a smile.

Of course, you realized you were acting kind of… crazy, but you were not about to sit through all those speeches with some stranger and your grandparents by your sides. Jeongguk worked for you, he got paid to hang out with you when there was no danger. His job was easy, the least he could do to show his gratitude was sit with you and offer his emotional support. God, your head was dizzy. Had you eaten dinner or lunch that day? You couldn't recall. The alcohol was really kicking in. Shit… Did you just really throw someone else's name card onto another table? And you forced Jeongguk to sit in that person's seat? What the hell was wrong with you? You were definitely losing it.

'Oh, Jeon Jeongguk you're here, too,' your grandmother said taking a seat behind the table, her voice sounding (fake) sweet.

Jeongguk offered a bashful smile. 'Yes, I am.'

You probably would have blamed yourself for putting him in such an awkward situation had you not been under the influence of alcohol. Even if it wasn't much of it, it still was affecting you.

Your grandfather nodded deferentially Jeongguk's way, pulling a chair from under the table.

The whole "show" was quite boring, if you were being honest. It was always boring. We're proud of our company blah blah blah. We're so grateful to our partners blah blah blah.

You'd rather lift off your seat, levitate through the room above all tables and fly out one of the windows into the horizon; the champagne was making you feel like you could actually do it, as well as not having the high heels on your feet (a good thing about being seated at a table). Perhaps you could fly to the Moon. Surely, banks didn't exist there, no CEOs stressing themselves over work, no ex boyfriends or dads holding secrets. Nothing would bother you there.

'Everything all right?' You heard Jeongguk's soft voice. He was leaning ever so slightly toward your direction as if attempting to enter the little world you'd created yourself in your mind. He seemed concerned.

Why was he always so concerned? You were— 'Just fine.'

The look on his face remained showing you the high level of his worry; there was also some scepticism flickering in his eyes. His gaze slid downward where your fingers were wrapped around a napkin, tightly, very tightly as if it were your enemy's neck. Up until that exact moment you hadn't even realized you were using so much force. Actually, you weren't even aware you had the napkin in your hand in the first place.

Your grip on it loosened. You let go of the napkin and neatly folded it, leaving it be on the table in peace so Jeongguk wouldn't be questioning you anymore.

You put much effort into trying to listen to whatever the important people on the stage had to say, but your mind was swimming in the ocean that had poison of irritation instead of cold water. Shouldn't the champagne have turned it into an elixir of relaxation?

Your father—the CEO—was finally called to the stage. You applauded lazily. You couldn't focus on anything he was saying. Something about hiding things from his daughter? All you were hearing was: I lie. I lie. I lie. You know what I did last Friday? I lied to my daughter. She's a child. A clueless child. Ha! Don't you just love a good ol' lie? Mmm, lies.

Your leg was restlessly jumping up and down, and once again only because of Jeongguk you'd noticed that it was doing it.

Under the table, you felt some pressure on your knee, and your jittery movement halted. A little confused, you looked down, slightly tilting your head, and saw that Jeongguk was the one pressing a finger onto your knee. Your heart did a two-step.

You glanced at him quizzically, for you definitely weren't expecting him to do such a thing. It was a small gesture, yeah, but Jeongguk didn't seem the type to have the courage to do even such a simple thing. Come to think of it, he was risking people seeing it; he was risking you getting mad at him for it. And in a way, that made you appreciate him even more.

He smiled. Your heart melted like hard wax becoming liquid upon the right level of warmth. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, soothing. 'Everything's just fine, remember?'

You did not succeed in trying to subdue the urge to smile back at him.

Though, the rational side of you was telling you that you should immediately smack his hand away, maybe give him such chiding for acting so outrageously. How dare he touch you like that in the hopes he would calm you down by such a silly gesture.

However, the other part of you (fuelled and motivated by alcohol and the feelings you'd started having for him) ordered you to do something entirely different.

(You should chide yourself, not Jeongguk, for what you did next.)

Turning your face back to the stage, you slipped your hand under the table, making sure it looked as casual and inconspicuous as possible. You weren't about to do anything devilish, of course not, but even the little things mattered in a place like this. Your hand landed gently onto Jeongguk's. You dragged it over your knee; he didn't demur, surprisingly so. That only showed he was getting more and more comfortable around you, even if sometimes he'd hesitate or distance himself just a little.

He clasped your knee as if he'd done it a million times before.

In your peripheral you could see him gulp. Clearly, he wasn't unfazed by your action.

You leaned to the side a little, reducing the distance between you and him, to murmur, 'It'll take more than just a finger to calm my nerves.'

Jeongguk almost choked on air. He cleared his throat, carefully shifting in his seat.

It took a little time for your intoxicated mind to realize the ambiguity of your words. You didn't take them back, though. In any case, it was even more thrilling, so you welcomed the distraction.

Were you insane? You most definitely were.

Both hands back on the table, fingers fiddling with the napkin again, you pretended to listen attentively to the speeches. However, you understood nothing at all. You didn't care. You felt Jeongguk's thumb rub your knee back and forth; it was almost imperceptible, but your blood was getting warmer and warmer.

Your grandparents were mere feet away, and that fact only made you even giddier. Needless to say, neither of your legs were jumping up and down anymore. Your blood pressure, on the other hand, undoubtedly was.

The "show" eventually ended, and you congratulated your dad as a well raised daughter should.

You also saw Kim Seokjin's mother do the same, her lips touching your dad's cheek in a quick peck again. For everyone in the event it probably looked inconspicuous and nothing noteworthy, but at that point you were completely convinced they were dating, which wasn't a bad thing in itself, but you shouldn't be wondering and suspecting such things by yourself in the first place. Your father should've told you the truth.

When the congratulating wave had come back to the sea of seemingly sophisticated conversations and champagne tasting, your dad said, 'I want you to meet someone.' Your pulse grew at that. Would he introduce you to Kim Seokjin’s mother? Would he finally come clean, proving you he saw you as an adult?

Nope. Apparently you were the one still needing to prove him you weren't a child. He did not introduce you to Kim Seokjin's mother. Instead he led you to a spot in the room where Seokjin himself (alone) was standing with a glass of champagne. What did this mean?

A smile flickered on the man's face, when he saw you approach.

'This is Kim—

Your dad didn't get to finish the introduction, you interrupted him. 'Seokjin, yes, we already met.'

'Oh?' Your dad's eyebrows twitched upwards. 'You did?'

'Yup,' Seokjin said, grinning. 'I already met them both ___ and her boyfriend.'

Panic flooded in.

‘Boyfriend?’ Your dad questioned, utterly puzzled. You weren't supposed to introduce Jeongguk as your boyfriend. Whoopsie.

‘Oh,’ Seokjin gasped. ‘I’m sorry, I thought—

You didn't want him to feel guilty for your lies. ‘It’s okay,’ you reassured him. 'He knows; he just didn't expect you to know about it.'

‘Oh, whew.’ Seokjin laughed in relief, but his voice still sounded strained.

Your dad tried to appear nonchalant, but you could see he was tense and confused. Probably a bit mad at you for acting this way and spreading such knews amongst these people.

A few awkward moments later you excused yourself and immediately went to find Jeongguk.

‘I need to get some fresh air,’ you told him.

He looked worried again. ‘I know just the spot,’ he said.’

Having studied the hotel's map beforehand, Jeongguk led you out to the hall and down the corridor. He pressed the call button for the elevator. The event was being held on the second floor. The door glided open smoothly as it should in a five star hotel. Inside Jeongguk's finger pressed against one of the buttons, and suddenly, in the silence that followed, you were reminded of the way his finger landed on your knee earlier that night.

He only proved your theory about you being deprived of sincere touches, of genuine contact. He only touched you with one finger and he wasn‘t pushy or needy, he didn‘t need anything more, didn‘t expect something in return. It was only for your own good; Jeongguk was caring for you; he was putting an effort into reminding you that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to calm you down with that soft, warm smile of his.

When the elevator came to a halt on the first floor still saying nothing you both stepped into the lobby. Wordlessly, he led you through the doors in the back of the hotel.

You were still swimming in your own thoughts. He did something selfless for you, and what did you do? You selfishly reached for his hand and placed it upon your knee, seeking not only for comfort but also thrill. There was guilt gnawing in the back of your mind, but there was also a little voice there saying that he could‘ve easily withdrawn his hand if he wanted to. He didn‘t.  He kept it there until the end of the speeches.  And if you weren‘t mistaken his smile seemed genuine when you glanced at him a couple of times. Though there was a thin line between him being sincere and him being an obsequious employee.

There were bushes and plants like thuja, meticulously cut and standing gracefully. Lots of green under the moonlight and some solar lamps placed strategically as to properly exhibit the beauty of nature at night by not overwhelming the charm of the night itself.

There was a path snaking its way amongst rose bushes. The view eventually opened up to a glorious fountain.

‘Beautiful,’ you breathed in awe, intending to leave the problems behind you in the hotel and fully immersing into the allure of the place.

Jeongguk sat on one of the benches placed around the fountain; you followed suit.

‘So,’ you said, ‘you have a plan for any kind of situation that could end up hurting me?’

‘Not any situation, but…’

‘Imagine someone’s head popping up out of the water.’ You gestured toward the fountain.

Jeongguk smiled. ’Well that’s pretty unrealistic, but—

‘Okay, then tell me something realistic.’

‘No one could know for sure you’d go outside tonight. If they have people here, then they have even more people inside. Since I don’t have a gun, I’d have to assert the situation quickly and get you to a safe place, call for backup. If I couldn’t get you to a safe place quickly enough, I’d have to be your shield.’

‘Meaning?’ You asked, intrigued. He couldn’t be talking about—

‘Jumping in front of a bullet.’

‘Damn. You’d really do that?’

‘It’s my job.’

That was hot, if you were being honest.

However, the image of Jeongguk taking a bullet for you was interrupted by your father. Not him physically, but the idea of him. Him and his lies.

Why did he wanted you to meet Seokjin? For the same reason as your grandmother? That would be incredibly weird.

‘Why do people lie to me?’ You asked.

Jeongguk inhaled, exhaled slowly, but came up with nothing.  ‘I don‘t know...’

‘Why did you lie to me?’

He gave you a confused look. ‘I didnt—

‘When I said you were with your friends or whatever you didn‘t deny it.’

A sigh. ‘I didn‘t want to—I wanted to look cool, I guess.’

‘Cool?’ you smiled.  ‘Having friends doesn’t exactly make you cool.’

‘I know, I just... your life is...’ Jeongguk gestured toward the fountain in attempt of trying to show what he meant. ‘And my life is...’ he lowered his head.

‘My life isn‘t only glorious fountains, you know.’

‘Yes, I know,’ he quickly agreed.

‘But I get it.’

‘You do?’ He had hopeful eyes.

You nodded. ‘My life can look glorious at times, but it isn‘t only sunshine and rainbows. You don‘t have to look cool or anything. Just be yourself.’

Jeongguk grinned. ‘Okay.’

You could see the wind whoosh past the plants on the left, then grazing past the bushes on the right, brushing against your skin on the way. It was a cold one. You quivered.

‘Here.’ Having noticed it, Jeongguk took his suit jacket off and gently placed it upon your shoulders. It felt warm.

‘What a gentleman you are, Jeongguk.’

He lifted one shoulder in a tiny shrug, grinning.

You noticed his tie was a little loose, just the tiniest bit. You couldn‘t help but reach over and fix it.

Your fingers worked graciously. ‘A really nice tie. You choose it yourself?’

Jeongguk was smiling. ‘With the help of an employee in the store.’

‘Well, you both have great taste then.’

Being that close to him, you spotted a tiny scar on his cheek that you hadn‘t noticed before. Your hand reached up on its own accord. You touched it lightly.

He watched your hand.

‘How did you get it?’

You watched his lips.

His lips were pink, plump and looked very kissable.

‘I got in a fist fight as a kid.’

‘You fight often?’

He glanced at your lips as well as your gaze moved from his lips to his eyes. ‘No. I actually hate fighting.’

‘But you‘d fight for me?’

One corner of his lips twitched upwards. ‘Absolutely.’

That was when you leaned forward. You halted your movement just when you noticed that Jeongguk started leaning in too. What the hell were you doing? He was your bodyguard.

He stopped as well.

Just millimetres away from his lips you murmured rather seductively (either because of the alcohol or the sheer thrill of the situation), ‘Do you want me to kiss you?’

Jeongguk gulped. ‘Yes,’ he whispered barely audibly.

You smiled. ‘What was that? I couldn‘t hear you.’

He inhaled and closed his eyes as if that would help with his embarrassment. ‘Yes, I do, miss ____.’

There it was again—he called you miss. But this time it seemed so different. The word fell from his lips in a way that made you want to kiss him even more.

You didn‘t stop smiling. ‘You‘re a good boy, Jeongguk.’ You realized didn‘t deserve him.

You pulled away, facing the fountain. ‘Too good.’

‘Wha—what‘s that supposed to mean?’

You exhaled. ‘Nothing you should over think.’

You thought about giving the jacket back to him, but decided against it. Having your father see you with your bodyguard’s jacket on your shoulders seemed a good idea, even if created by the slightly childish side of you.

You stood up, strolled toward the hotel, then turned around to call for your stunned bodyguard. ‘C’mon. It’s time to make our exit.’

[mosylufanfic]

Some Rules Are Meant to be Broken

Killervibe Week Day 4: Free Day

So . . . a little background on this. A long time ago (looooooooooooong time ago) some lovely nonny sent me a request for a matchmaker AU. I went OOOOOO. My brain started popping and fizzing with thoughts and before I knew it I had a whole multi-chapter story in my head. Which was where it stayed, because I think I was working on other multi-parters at the time and there are only so many hours in the day. I maybe wrote one scene, and then it sank into the depths of my Gdocs like a dinosaur succumbing to the tar pits.

This happens way more often than I care to admit.

Then I was whining on Discord about how I was suffering from choice paralysis for Free Day. Too many ideas, not enough words. And I realized I had a whole bunch of partial fics just sitting around, waiting for me to actually finish them up. So what did I do? Went back to the matchmaker AU and wrote the end. From scratch. In about a day and a half. In my defense it was all in the primordial ooze of my brain-meats, I just had to find the words and put them in the right order.

Anyway I hope if that very patient and long-denied nonny is reading this, you like it.

Some Rules Are Meant to be Broken

The offices of Connections were dim and shadowed as Cisco unlocked the door. He didn't bother hitting any lights, so familiar with the layout that he could navigate the waiting room by the dim light of the Central City skyline outside the windows.

He walked down the hall, past a wall of framed pictures that gleamed faintly in the low light. Happy couples, wedding invites, birth announcements, even the occasional letter or printed email thanking Connections for matching the client with the love of their life.

There were more inside his office, some of his personal triumphs. He turned away from them and felt around until he released the catch on two doors set into the wall. He pulled them open to reveal a small but well-stocked bar.

He ignored the glasses and the minifridge full of ice and chilled drinks, and grabbed a bottle of Scotch right off the shelf. A couple of steps took him to a small sitting area arranged by the window, and he dropped into one of the comfy chairs. Scowling, he worked the cork out. It released with a pop, and he tossed it aside and drank right from the bottle.

He didn't normally drink at work unless he was entertaining a client, but this was a special occasion. 

Twenty minutes later, the lights in the waiting room flicked on, and then his door opened and his overhead lights blazed. He squinted and said, "Hey."

His business partner, Iris West-Allen, leaned in the doorway. "Well, don’t you look pitiful."

He slouched in his chair, looking up at her.

"You gonna share?" she asked.

He swung the bottle in her general direction. "Have a snort."

She looked at it, shook her head, and got up to grab a glass from the bar, as comfortable in his office as she was in her own. She poured herself a couple of fingers of scotch and sipped. "You're chugging this?" she asked. 

"Yes," he said. "What’s the problem?"

"Nothing, if it was flavored vodka from Safeway. But this is a Lagavulin that's old enough to drive."

"Time it got drank, then," he said, and took another slug straight from the bottle, while she shook her head. "Great party," he said when the silence threatened to drown him.

"One of our best," she replied. "I saw at least five couples pairing off."

He stared at the label on the bottle. "Uh-huh."

"Even Caitlin Snow seemed to find someone she liked."

This time, the answer was much slower in coming. "Uh-huh."

"I don't know why we didn't think of introducing her and Ronnie before."

He shut his eyes and saw again the way that Caitlin had smiled and laughed with Ronnie Raymond. One of Iris's clients, not his, but Cisco knew him anyway because they matched up each others' clients all the time. Tall, good-looking, nice, smart, a go-getter, and on top of all that a genuinely good guy. Perfect for Caitlin. One of his better matches, honestly. 

Shit.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "They were perfect together."

Iris stared at him, then shook her head. "You ding-dong," she said. 

He rubbed his eyes and didn't offer a defense. He had none. 

"What's the first rule?"

"Don't talk about Fight Club?" When she glared, he sighed. "Figure out what the client wants, and give it to them."

"And the second rule?"

"Don't fall in love with a client."

"I told myself you were fine," she said. "I told myself you were a pro and have been for years. I thought, hey, Cisco really likes this client. She's a challenge, and he likes a challenge. You're meeting her week after week, talking over her dates, texting with her, but that's no big deal. We've all had clients we just clicked with."

"Yeah." Some of his best friends were former clients.

"And then Caitlin and Ronnie hit it off at the party, and I look over expecting to see you doing a goddamn happy dance. Instead you look like someone ran over your dog."

He remembered that moment. Not that he'd noticed Iris looking at him. But the moment he'd seen Caitlin laugh at something Ronnie said, touching his arm, smiling up at him, he hadn't had the bright zing! of a match successfully made.

Instead, it had been like cement pouring into his gut, as he realized that he was watching the woman he loved fall in love with someone else.

Iris swirled her Scotch and stared him down. "Did you sabotage her intros?"

He sat up straight. "No!" 

"Are you sure?"

"I - " He stopped.

What if he had? Maybe, subconsciously, he'd been in love with her since the moment she'd come into his office, grumpy and uncooperative because her mother had bought her a package of five introductions through a matchmaking service. What if he'd been finding matches that he could tell himself were the right guys for her, but in reality, were just wrong enough for her to keep coming back?

Keep seeing him. 

Keep talking to him.

Keep smiling at him with those big beautiful brown eyes. 

"I don't know," he muttered finally. 

Iris held out her hand. "Her file. Now."

Cisco slumped down into his chair and drank again. "Top drawer."

She went and got it, and refrained from pointing out that Caitlin's file was the only one in the top drawer. She flipped it open to study his notes for a moment. "She's got one more intro."

He took another drink. "From the looks of it, she won't be using it."

She shrugged. "We deposited the check for the full package. Until she uses it all, she's still a client."

"Right." Caitlin could come back years from now, asking for her last intro, and she would be entitled to it. 

What would he do if she did? Would he smile at her fondly, remembering that long-ago time when he'd fallen in love with her, the feelings soft and faded like old flower petals?

Or would they still be simmering away? Rising up in him like a volcano?

He didn't know which to hope for.

Iris tucked Caitlin's file under her arm and came back to the sitting area to give him a hug. "I'm sorry," she said in his ear, her voice gentle.

He leaned against her. "My fault," he muttered back. "I should have known what was going on sooner."

"Love catches us all unawares." She ruffled his hair and he ducked away from her, scowling and finger-combing it back into place. 

"You want to come over and watch terrible horror movies with my husband?" she asked. "I'll supply the ice cream and the tissues."

Tempting, but he knew that the whole time, he'd be remembering an evening he'd spent with Caitlin in much the same way. She'd been down because she'd gotten stood up for a third date, and Cisco had been the one supplying the ice cream. They'd ended up snuggled together on the couch - that exact couch right here, across from the chair he sat on - giggling helplessly over a cheesy sci-fi movie cued up on his laptop.

(He'd also taken great pleasure in calling Julian and ripping him a new one the next day. No spark or not, Connections clients did not stand up other clients without so much as a text.)

"I think I'll go home and wallow on my own for a day or two," he said, re-corking the Scotch and setting it on the coffee table. "Maybe crack open some Safeway vodka. I got a bottle of caramel flavor that's calling my name."

Iris eyed the level of the liquor. "Want me to drive you?"

He got to his feet and gulped when the floor tipped under his feet. "Maybe you'd better," he said.

He felt a little steadier when she dropped him off at his building. Steady enough to get up to his loft, anyway. She leaned over from the driver's seat, eyes compassionate. "Call me if you need me. Don't drink yourself to death."

"No promises," he said. 

"You gonna be okay?" she asked.

"I've fallen in love before," he said. "This is just one heartbreak. I'll survive, and I'll fall in love again someday."

But none of them would be her.

A week later, Cisco had clocked several hangovers, lots of empty Kleenex boxes, and about a million calories in ice cream. The sharp slice of pain had dulled to an ache in his chest. 

Three or four hundred times a day, he picked up his phone to text Caitlin. Sometimes it was an absent-minded, Oh hey, she'd enjoy this meme and sometimes it was what would it hurt to say hi? 

Sometimes, when he was being honest with himself, he was about to declare his love and beg her to be with him. 

She hadn't contacted him. Obviously, too busy being wildly in love with Ronnie Raymond. 

In his weaker moments, he pictured them holding hands as they walked by the river, dining by candlelight, kissing on a balcony before slipping inside to a darkened bedroom.

That was usually followed by more drinking, more tears, and more ice cream. 

He managed, somehow, to keep the messier moments out of the office, if only because he was intensely aware of Iris's compassionate and piercing eye. It helped that he'd given their office assistant the key to his liquor cabinet, with strict instructions not to give it back unless he was with a client, and threats of death and dismemberment if he caught Ralph with liquor on his breath at work. 

So Cisco was unfortunately sober as he sat at his desk, riffling through index cards with client names and brief notes on them, trying to figure out who would be enough of a match for each other to set up intros. 

Usually it felt like a jigsaw puzzle, moving people next to each other, making guesses at who would click into place. This guy would love that girl's quirky sense of humor. That guy would gel nicely with this guy's freewheeling lifestyle. That girl would be impressed by this girl's high-powered job. 

But for the past week, it had felt like shoving paper dolls around. The client cards sat on his desk, click-less. Not buzzing or fizzing in the way that meant this could be true love. Just . . . two people standing next to each other. 

He shoved his hands through his hair and let out a deep groan. 

This is what you do. You're good at it, and you love it.

"Not right now, I don't," he said to his empty office. 

His phone dinged with a text. He picked it up. Iris had written, Running late. Not going to be back for my 2:30. It’s an intake. Can you do it for me?

No prob, he wrote back. Here?

She'd prefer to meet at Jitters

Sometimes people asked for that. They didn't want to feel so much like they were contracting a service. More like they were chatting with a friend, asking for a casual setup. Cisco was happy to let them feel that way, even as they were John Hancock'ing the contract and promising to pay their more than healthy fee. 

And it would be good to get out of here. Stretch his legs, get some air and caffeine. Who knew - maybe a new client would kickstart his mojo. 

He tapped out, Has this new girl got a file?

On my desk 

You're the best

Damn right I am

He glanced at the time and realized he was going to need to book it in order to get downstairs to the coffee shop on time. Damn, Iris had cut it close. He dashed across the hall to his partner's office and grabbed the manila envelope that sat on her otherwise pristine desk. "Client meet at Jitters," he called out on his way through the waiting room. "Text if you need me."

"Got it, boss," Ralph said cheerily, scrolling through Facebook as he did a basic background check on a prospective client. 

"And don't call me boss."

"You betcha, boss."

Cisco rolled his eyes and yanked the door shut behind him.

He'd planned to have a quick look at their new client's file on the elevator, but it was occupied by a guy from the next floor up, someone he'd successfully set up last year. Cisco smiled and glad handed and made appreciative noises over the pictures of the house the couple had just bought together, but he stepped out of the elevator with the envelope still sealed. 

Jitters was on the street-level floor of their building. When he walked in, a barista waved to him and started making his usual without asking. He waved back and looked around. Nobody was obviously waiting, so he grabbed a quiet corner booth and settled down to open up the client file.

Instead of the usual intake form with attached picture, there was just a sheet of blank printer paper with Iris's scrawl dashed across it. 

Remember rule one.

He gaped at it. 

Then the heaviness of the envelope registered. He put his hand in and pulled out the sparkling starburst pin that they issued to all their clients, so they could identify each other at an intro. Worlds away from a chrysanthemum and a copy of Wuthering Heights. 

"What?" he whispered.

The bell over the door jingled, and he looked up. "Caitlin," he said numbly.

It felt like a year, not a week, since he'd seen her. He drank her in. God, she was so beautiful. But pale. She looked pale. And there were shadows under her eyes, even though she'd tried to hide them with makeup. 

Had she been lying awake like him? Or . . . maybe she'd been awake for a better reason, with Ronnie.

She smiled. Was it his imagination or was it a nervous smile? "Hi, Cisco. Can I sit down?"

"Hey. I actually - uh - I'm meeting a client here -" He saw the starburst pin on her blouse, identical to the one he held, and stopped. 

"You're meeting me," Caitlin said, taking a seat across from him.

"I don't - " Maybe he wasn't caffeinated enough, even though he'd downed three or four cups since this morning. "Did Iris talk to you?"

"Yes," she said, twisting her hands together on the tabletop. "You didn't text."

He avoided her eyes. "No, sorry, we've been busy - "

"You usually text the day after a date to see how it went, but you didn't, after the party. And you left that night kind of quickly, without saying goodbye. So I -  I waited a day and then I called the office, just in case you weren't feeling well. And Iris told me that she was going to be my matchmaker now."

"We do that sometimes," he said. "Shuffle things around. To redistribute the workload."

Lie and a half. They never, ever did that. They matched clients with matchmakers as carefully as they matched clients with each other. 

"Yes," Caitlin said. "That's what Iris said." 

"So - um. What's this all about? You just wanted to talk?" 

Was this Iris's idea of closure? Did she somehow think this would be good for him?

This was very much not good for him. He was already mentally selecting which flavor of vodka was going to destroy his liver tonight.

"I met with Iris here yesterday," Caitlin said. "We talked for awhile and then she asked me what I want. And I told her." She bit her lip and held his gaze. "I want you."

"Me," he said.

She nodded. Her hands twisted around themselves like a nest of anxious worms. "Not as my matchmaker. As - as my match."

He felt his mouth fall open. "But . . . " he said numbly. "But Ronnie. You were totally into Ronnie at the party."

"Ronnie was very nice," Caitlin said. "He asked for my number and we had dinner the next day. And if things were different, I could see us becoming something. But there was already you."

He swallowed hard. Him.

Him over Ronnie. Tall, hot, good-guy Ronnie. 

She twisted her hands again. "And I know I'm a client and you're a professional and there are rules about this kind of thing. But the best part of this whole experience has been you. Every date I went on, I was just thinking the whole time how to tell you about it. Every time your name pops up on my phone, my heart skips a beat. Every day I just want to come by the office here and see you, talk to you, and the days I could were just . . . better, Cisco, they were better."

She gulped air, as if the cascade of feelings had drained her lungs to the bottom. 

"Maybe this is like therapy where transference is a risk, and maybe you're just like that with everyone, but I -"

"I'm not, though," he said, reaching out across the table for her hand.

She stopped dead, her eyes going big. "You're not?"

He shook his head. "Only with you."

"Oh," she breathed.

"And I am a professional and we do have rules, but I was just - I was in the middle of it before I even knew what was happening."

"The middle of what?"

"Love," he said. "I'm all the way in the middle of love with you, and I've been a complete wreck trying to find my way out."

Her hand tightened on his. "Don't," she said. "Don't try to get out. Just stay here. With me."

She was too far away, a continent of table in between them. He scooted around the booth and took her face in his hands, asking a silent question.

She answered it by leaning forward and kissing him. 

Joy bubbled up, floating him away until his only anchors to earth were her lips on his, her arms around his neck, the curves of her body pressed up against his.

Something thumped, and someone coughed.

They broke apart and found the red-faced barista setting two coffees down in front of them. "Both on the Connections tab?" she asked.

Cisco dug in his pocket. "No, this is personal." He wiggled his brows at Cailtin. "I know how you feel about the first date, but seriously, let me get this."

She leaned into him. "Fine but I'm buying the ice cream later on."

The barista took his credit card away, still blushing, and Cisco took a sip of his latte. It was the same thing he always got, but it tasted like ambrosia. "So, ice cream?" he asked, taking Caitlin's hand.

"Well, or dinner, or . . ." She trailed off. "You're not going to get in trouble for this or anything, are you?"

"Considering Iris set this whole thing up like the scheming schemer she is, I'm gonna go with no."

"But what if you get your license revoked, or something?"

"Just how organized do you think we are?" He kissed her knuckles. "No, I'm not gonna lose my license. No license to lose. There are a couple of rules in the matchmaking biz, but they're kinda like the pirate code."

"Guidelines," Caitlin said, and he grinned hugely at her. 

"Exactly. There is a rule about never falling in love with a client, and that's a grey area for us, but technically you're Iris's client now, not mine."

"Mmmm. Seems like splitting hairs."

"I'll gladly split a few hairs for us," he said. "But the very first, most important rule is, get the client what they want." He squeezed her hand. "And you already told me what you want. Which is coincidentally what I want, which . . ." He paused. "Hang on, does that make me my own client now?" How much did he owe himself? Hmmm.

"Oh! Iris asked me to give you this," Caitlin said. She dug around in her purse and handed over an envelope with the logo of Connections in the return address corner. 

Somehow knowing what he would find, Cisco opened it anyway. Inside was an invoice. Iris's name was neatly typed in the Matchmaker line, and on the line where they would put the client's name, he saw his own.

One introduction, the invoice read. And down where the price would be, Iris had written I totally expect to be your best man.

Cisco grinned at it and tucked it away. "Hey," he said, reaching out to touch the starburst on Caitlin's shirt. "You can take that off. You're not going to need it anymore."

Caitlin peered down to undo the pin. "No, I most certainly won't."

FINIS

[thewritewolf]

Rekindle Chapter 7: Roommates

Chat Noir has been crashing more often than not at Marinette’s apartment. Not that she minds, of course - it’s nice to have another person in the house. Even if he is a... *shudders* morning person.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30  31

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

With a great force of will, Marinette managed to roll out of bed and start her day. Technically, this was one of the few days she could sleep in without having to call into work, but a few things were stopping her from succumbing to the temptation.

First, she worked most days. If she slept in on one of her few days off, then she would definitely be out of sync for a while afterwards. Far more than she would be willing to accept for such a fleeting pleasure. Her second and much more pressing reason was that Chat Noir had spent the night and could very well still be in her home. It might sound dumb, but she was eager to get all the extra time with him that she could.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

Marinette jumped at Tikki’s voice appearing next to her ear while she was brushing her hair. After her heart stopped beating at a hundred kilometers per hour, she asked, “Is it that obvious?”

“Mhmm. You know, it’s alright feel happy that you have friends visiting you again. I know how sad you were being all alone in here.”

“I know, but… it feels like we’ve gotten so close way too quickly.” These last few weeks, Chat Noir had been visiting almost every other day. Today wasn’t unusual - he spent at least a couple days out of the week crashing at her house. Effectively, her guest bedroom could just be called ‘Chat’s Room’. Most times, he was gone before she woke up, once she was up before him and they got to have breakfast together. It felt… pleasantly domestic. Which worried her. “I don’t want to ruin another friendship.”

“Marinette…” Tikki seemed about to say something else, but instead sighed and gave her a sad look before phasing through the door.

Now satisfied that she didn’t look like she had just rolled out of bed, Marinette stepped outside her room. She listened to the quiet, feeling a faint hope get dashed. It seemed that Chat was a morning person and every time she’d seen him before he left, he was up before her. Since the TV was off, he must have left already. Her eyes strayed to the door at the end of the hall, which lead into the guest bedroom. She’d better go and tidy it up before she inevitably forgot about it.

She opened the door and poked her head in. It was warm as the early morning sun’s rays gently illuminated the room. There was still a few spare bolts of fabric in here, a callback to the long gone days where she tried to keep all her creative efforts confined to a single room. An effort she quickly abandoned when it became clear she wasn’t going to have regular company again for a long time. Her eyes landed on the bed. Electricity coursed through her when she realized it was occupied. She had a sense of a mop of golden blonde hair arrayed like a halo over a concealed, sleeping face before she pulled back and slammed the door shut with much too much force. Her hand flew to her mouth as she waited for the inevitable shout of surprise or shock. To her relief, she didn’t hear him stir from his slumber.

No wonder he was still here then - he must’ve had a rough day or even week if he of all people was still asleep. Worry quickly replaced relief and not for the first time, she wished that the masks wouldn’t get in the way. With their identities at stake, how could she really help him if he couldn’t tell her anything about what was troubling him?

Well, there was one thing she could do. After leaving a cube of cheese near the door for his kwami, Marinette got to work making breakfast.

She wasn’t used to making large meals in the morning. In school, she’d always been running late and never had time for much more than a slice of toast or a piece of fruit. And with how early work was, she often simply went without breakfast entirely. Today would prove to be a good change of pace, for both of them.

As she began making toast and eggs, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. It was almost like they were a couple already - one of them waking up early to make the other breakfast. Maybe there was more between them than just friends. Another, more bitter part of her argued that maybe she was just emotionally starved and Chat was the first person to connect with her in awhile. It was only natural for her to latch onto him, especially while trying to move on from Adrien. Physically, there wasn’t that much different between them. Golden blonde hair… vibrant green eyes… sweet ringing laugh… kissable lips…

Marinette felt a blush spread across her face and she shook her head to get rid of the invading thoughts. No! Not again. That’s what happened with Adrien - she fell too far, too quickly and everything got ruined. Chat’s friendship meant the world to her and she knew the same was true for him. She couldn’t risk messing up this one too. No matter what, she needed to preserve their friendship. Pointedly avoiding thinking about it, she decided to instead hum a song that she’d picked up from Chat as she finished making breakfast.

No sooner had she put the food on plates than there was a knock at her door. Upon answering it, she found that there was a package for her. Not too surprising - it had only been a couple weeks since her birthday and with so many of her family members outside the country, she was usually receiving gifts a month or two after her actual birthday had passed. She was just about to set it aside to open later when she noticed the label, which said it came from someone in Paris.

A hard ball of dread formed in her gut as she carefully, slowly cut the tape and opened the package. Inside was two things: a card and a bolt of black fabric. As much as she wanted to feel the fabric, she was drawn to the card first. Her heart nearly stopped when she opened it and read:

“Hey, Marinette! It’s been a while, but I’m hoping you’re doing well. An awesome person like you deserves a wonderful birthday. I hope you like the presents I sent! From, Adrien. PS - Sorry this is so late! The fabric took a while to arrive.” It might have been her imagination, but she could almost see that the where the ‘from’ was, the word ‘love’ had been thoroughly erased and written over.

She sank to her knees on the ground, tears fighting to run freely. With a trembling hand, she reached out for the fabric. Just as she suspected, it was the warm kind that she had absolutely adored making nice little gloves and hats out of, but could never find again. No wonder it had arrived late - she’d given up trying to buy some when she saw she’d have to custom order some from Italy.

It was… very sweet. And unexpected. A lot like what had made her fall for him in the first place. That was just how he was. Always kind, always smiling, even if his smiles were almost always for the benefit of others and not born of genuine happiness. Despite his yearning for friends, he never really had many. Sure, people liked him, but few people ever got close to him. She brushed her thumb over the words he’d wrote for her. How was he doing right now, she wondered?

Before she could give it more thought, she heard movement in her guest bedroom and rushed to put away the gift. She had to worry about one boy at a time. Besides, she didn’t want to become a mess in front of Chat Noir and leaving it out would be a recipe for disaster.

A few minutes later, Chat Noir stepped into the kitchen with his hair even more of a mess than usual, but as bright and chipper as usual. He enjoyed the breakfast she had made for the two of them and seemed unaware of her inner turmoil as he opened the window to make his escape. A cold wind blew past him, causing him to shiver.

“It’s going to be fun to patrol this winter, I can already tell.” He gave a two finger salute and a wink, which had far more of an effect on her than she cared to admit. “Take care, princess.”

As she shut her window, she thought back to the warm black fabric that Adrien had bought her, already thinking of the first project she would use it for.

[thosestarsthatshine]

Loved and Lost

Ch. 4: Things We Shared in the Dark

Five Years Ago

Y/N paced back and forth in the living room of her apartment. A cool summer breeze came in through the open window, a departure from the sweltering heat that had been present earlier in the day. An unnerving silence filled the room, breathlessly waiting for the phone to ring with the answer she so desperately wanted to hear. An opportunity had come across her path, one that could help launch her career into heights unknown, but as to be expected of life changing opportunities - there was a catch. An agency in America had taken an interest in her hero work, they had expressed interest in her being a part of their agency. The job required her to move from Japan to America and she didn’t know when or if she would see her family and friends again or anytime soon for that matter. After several rounds of interviews and performance tests, she was waiting to see if she had been selected.

Exasperating - the only word Y/N could think of to describe the seemingly endless wait for the phone to ring. Pondering over the opportunity and all of its benefits, her mind soon began to fill with fears and anxieties. It was a big decision for someone to make so young, she was only nineteen still fresh out of high school and wasn’t sure if taking this opportunity was really the best thing for her at such a young age.

What if I’m not good enough? Can I really just pick up my life and move to a different country, I’m only nineteen? What if I don’t take this opportunity and regret it for the rest of my life? Would my father be proud?

Trying desperately to wrangle back control of her mind from the uneasiness taking over, she started to take deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Until finally her mind was at peace once more. There was no sense in fretting about those things now, she wasn’t even sure she officially received the offer. Taking some time to put her mind at ease, she placed her phone on the coffee table and decided to just watch the television. However, life has a funny way of presenting itself and the moment that she finally started to relax, the phone began to ring.

On waited breath, she took a few moments before answering the call, to not seem as desperate. Taking a few breaths to calm the soon rising nervous, she anxiously picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

A bubbly voice picked up on the other side, “Hi this is Karen, calling from United Heroes, I would just like to call and tell you that after much careful review and consideration. Out of all the candidates that we saw, you were the one we thought was exceptionally qualified and we would love to have you join our team.”

A smile had soon crept onto Y/N’s lips, she had done what seemed like the impossible and now right here before her the opportunity of a lifetime was presenting itself. It took her a bit to respond back to Karen and after much back and forth, she was given by the end of the week to give an official answer.

“We just want to make sure that you are completely prepared, it is a big opportunity, especially for one so fresh out of school, but we would love to have you with us. Go ahead and take a couple of days, and let me know by Friday what you’re official answer will be. That way we can proceed with the paperwork. If everything goes smoothly we’ll have you come out here by next week.”

After exchanging pleasantries, the phone soon disconnected. An ecstatic scream escaped her lips.

A couple of days had past and Y/N had called to officially accept the position. Karen had told her that Y/N needed to have everything ready to be shipped to America, including herself, by Saturday. Hero work often moved at a fast past - it’s just the way the job went. Y/N had expected to move out there quickly, but not that quickly. She was suddenly filled with doubt - did she really make the right decision?

After internally going back and forth with herself, she knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere - she needed someone to give her a second opinion. So, she sought out the one person who’s opinions always had mattered the most to her, Hitoshi. He was her best friend after all, he would be the one to give her the best advice about everything.

So it was here, on this unusually calm and cool summer Friday night that Y/N sought out Hitoshi. They had planned to meet up at one of their favorite hangouts, a cafe they had discovered early on in their friendship. It had become their place all throughout their days at U.A. and beyond.

Opening the old doors to the cafe, Y/N had spotted Hitoshi sitting at their favorite table, a small corner booth in the very depths of the cafe, away from prying eyes. His amethyst eyes shining brighter as he saw her enter from across the room. As she got closer, she noticed that he had ordered her favorite drink, and it filled her with so much glee. Yet, at the same time, so much dread - why?

Maybe it was because she knew that it could possibly be one of the last times she would see him? Maybe it was due to the fact that inside she was still torn about her decision to go? Who knew? She pushed it aside for the moment as she sat down across from him.

Hitoshi could sense the trouble brewing in her head. He could see the puzzled look on her face as she sat down. He desperately wanted to know what she was thinking about.

“Is everything alright?”

Y/N could only give him a faint smile, “Yeah, I just spaced out for a second.” She hesitated, not knowing how to tell him that she was leaving. Part of her was afraid to tell him. She wanted to keep it a secret for just a little while longer, but defeatedly knew she couldn’t. She had to tell him. “Toshi, there’s something I need to tell you. I got a job offer with United Heroes and America. They want me to leave tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

It pained her to tell him, and she could tell that it pained him to hear. Hitoshi didn’t know what to say, he was left speechless at the news that he had just received. She was leaving for America in the morning. He was heartbroken. Devastatingly heartbroken. He would never tell her that though. How could he?

“So I guess this is goodbye then huh?” His words coming out harsher than he intended.

“Yeah, I guess.” Y/N sounding so unsure of her words.

Hitoshi could sense the sadness in her. He wasn’t sure if it was because they were going to be parted for the first time since they had become friends, or if it was because of something more. He felt the need to reassure her everything was going to be alright.

“Well, if you’re leaving tomorrow, then we might as well enjoy what little time we have left!”

His words brought a smile to Y/N’s face. For a moment it felt like a facade, a mask she was putting on just to feign happiness for him. She shook her head at the thought. She knew it was just Hitoshi trying to reassure her that things would work out in the end. She was grateful for it and yet, she still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

In an attempt to soak up as much time as they had together, they began to reminisce. They stayed in that booth for what seemed like hours - talking and laughing and remembering all the moments that they had shared together since their first year at U.A., and even when the owner finally kicked them out, they continued. Deciding to continue back at her place.

On the walk to her apartment, they couldn’t help but notice that the night sky looming over them seemed darker than normal - it was as if the sky itself was moonless. It didn’t help the lingering feelings in Y/N’s heart as they continued their walk.

As they entered Y/N’s apartment they continued to share memories of their past, but now with photo albums to help them reminisce. They remembered the time that Y/N bought herself, Aizawa, and Hitoshi matching cat onesies, or the time that Hitoshi had found the litter of abandoned kittens outside of their dorms and had convinced Y/N to sneak them in without telling her father. They even reminisced about the time that Hitoshi had received his capture weapon - a scarf similar to the one that Aizawa wore, and how he was so excited he cried.

Going over memory after memory, the two found a looming dread hanging over them. Tomorrow they would be parted, for who knew how long. They wouldn’t be able to make any knew memories together, or at least that’s what they thought.

Y/N was glancing at pictures in a new photo album, she looked so beautiful, it broke his heart to know that she wouldn’t be around anymore. Hesitantly, Hitoshi gently cupped her face and kissed her. Emotions taking over as he felt the need to somehow tell her how he felt. She seemed to be confused with his kiss at first, but then soon melted into it, as if to tell him she felt the same. Their kiss wasn’t rough or filled with need. It was sweet and soft and somehow perfect. As Hitoshi pulled away and stared into her eyes, he felt the need to apologize, pulling his arms away from her face and quietly whispering, “I’m sorry”, followed by a faint “I love you”.

Y/N filled with emotions of her own couldn’t find the words to respond, so she just kissed him. Again and again and again. Telling him with her actions what she couldn’t with her words. Feelings now bared to the world as they quietly confessed to one another what they were too afraid to speak.

They soon found the world fall away as they shared what they both had hidden for so long. Longing for each other in a way they had never expressed before, touches burning as they caressed each other. Their souls intertwining as they made love into the night. Soon letting the darkness envelop them both.

The soft glow of the moonlight finally streaming through the curtains gently woke Hitoshi up. It illuminated the room in a light grey mist that gave off a sense of calmness and peace. Still in a foggy haze, he lazily rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shifted to his left to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was only three in the morning, plenty of time to once again succumb to sleep before the sun rose and the day officially began. Turning to the right, he saw what he could only describe as the most beautiful thing that he had ever laid his eyes upon. The love of his life soundly sleeping next to him. Y/N, the person he had loved and cherished for so many years, was there as close as she could be, naked as the day she was born - only the thin sheet from the bed covering her.

As he looked upon her face, noticing alluring features accentuated by the moonlight surrounding her and the soft halo of her hair framing her face. It made her look as if she was an angel from the heavens who had bestowed upon him the pleasure of her presence. He was reminded of the Grecian Goddess, Persephone.

As he breathed in her captivating beauty, he felt an aching in his heart, a sense of fear and self-loathing rising to the surface. Terrified of what might happen when the sun rose on them, on what she might say when she awoke to see him laying there beside her.

Would she be ashamed or would she be elated?

He was scared of what might come of their relationship afterward.

Would there even be a relationship or would it all come crashing down around him?

He was frustrated and feeling so small.

He hated that feeling. He had become so determined to prove to everyone how great he could be, and in some regards he had done just that, but he knew he wasn’t quite done. He wanted to be someone that people looked up to and knew that even if they were different, they too could achieve great success. He had come so far, pushing himself to become the person that he knew he was meant to be, and doing so all with her encouragement and support. She was one of the brightest lights in his very dark life and he loved her intensely. She was his rock and his best friend. Yet, there was still a throbbing in his heart.

Despite all that he had achieved and all the success that he had garnered, he still knew he had a long way to go before he could ever be the hero that he wanted to be, not just for himself but for her as well. The fears from his youth crept back into his mind consuming his very soul. He soon grew outraged for feeling this way, but deep down in the depths of his heart he knew what he needed to do.

Gently he rose from the bed, frightened of waking her as he planned his escape in the wee hours of the morning. He quickly found his clothes scattered amongst hers on the cold hardwood floor, the only evidence of their shared time together and the passion that had ensued - quietly putting them on so as not to disturb her slumber. He saw Y/N’s form shift on the bed and he froze. Silence fell upon them and when he felt assured that she was not going to wake he continued on. Before he could leave, he stood watching her peacefully sleeping form in the now empty bed. It pained him deeply, a great sorrow washed over him as he contemplated his decision.

Was he really making the right choice?

He felt cowardice for not facing her, for making this decision on his own, but despite it all he believed it was the right one. She too had dreams that had yet to be fulfilled and was working so hard to achieve. It was only hours ago that she had told him about her life changing opportunity. There were always ways that enabled things to work, but it would only put unnecessary strain on both of their hearts. He knew she was the one for him and that if they started something now it could hurt them both. They needed to like to grow as individuals before anything could happen between them. He felt that if there was ever going to be a time for the two of them that this just wasn’t the right one.

Would there ever be though?

He maintained that there would and that this was the best decision. Yet in the back of his mind he knew it wasn’t. He was letting his own fears and insecurities take over. He felt himself be reduced to the boy he was growing up - the same boy who was told he could never be a hero with a quirk like his. He was scared of loving her and not having her love him back.

Without further hesitation, as the tears soon welled in his eyes threatening to spill over his lashes as he softly planted a kiss on her forehead. He tried his best to choke back the tears that were on the verge of spilling but in the moment his control was lost and his emotions took over. Walking away from the bed in that moment was the hardest thing he had to do. It felt like an invisible force was pulling him back to her but he knew he needed to break free. Silently sobbing and desperately wanting to turn back, to return to the bed, to just face whatever may come his way, he knew that he mustn’t look back.

Petrified of what was now set in motion as he stepped past the threshold of her door. He kept repeating to himself that this was indeed the best decision and that she would, hopefully, understand one day. He would never regret the night that had been shared between them nor could he ever forget. When in those shared and fleeting moments nothing mattered except for them, just a woman and a man, no more and no less. The memory of that night would forever be etched into his mind always there when he closed his eyes when the thought of her took control in his mind.

As he closed the door on her, on the night that they had shared, he whispered a final goodbye. Not knowing when or if he would see her again. With his back against the door, he prayed that the universe would be in his favor and one day bring her back. Silent tears spilled once more as he slipped into the dark beneath the once again moonless sky.

Flash forward to now, here she stood in front of him with a little boy gently cradled in her arms. “Hitoshi, this is my son, Hiro”. He couldn’t believe the words his ears had just heard. Her son.

“Hiro, this is Mama’s friend, Hitoshi.” Hiro at his mother’s words turned away from her and towards Hitoshi. He could only stare at him for a few moments before giving him the biggest smile, possibly giving Midoriya a run for his money.

“Hi!”

Hitoshi was now given him the opportunity to take in the sight of the boy. He had a short mop of black hair that stuck out in every which way, and these big obsidian eyes. He wore a black Eraserhead shirt and light denim jeans with red high tops. He could have been mistaken for Aizawa’s mini me, if it weren’t for the fact that he had some of Y/N’s features in him as well. Yet, he couldn’t find any of Bakugou in the boy. He blamed it on genetics, that maybe Y/N’s were stronger. Hitoshi pondered the idea that maybe Bakugou and Hiro had similar quirks - if he even had a quirk. Yet in spite of this, Hitoshi couldn’t help this feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was off about Hiro. No matter how hard he tried to shake the feeling away, it gnawed at him - demanding his attention.

He gave the boy a quick hello back.

Before he could question the thoughts in his mind, he was pulled away from his thoughts by Aizawa who had called him into the kitchen needing his assistance, leaving Hiro and Y/N to be on their own.

All throughout dinner, he couldn’t help but bring his attention back to the mother and son. It was clear that they both loved each other, and that Hiro was the center of her world. Every so often though, the boy would do something or say something that would bring Hitoshi back to the feeling that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. As he watched the boy interact with everyone at the table, he could tell that Hiro was so full of life and Hitoshi was reminded of Y/N. He was fascinated by Hiro, and Hiro with Hitoshi. Hiro told him how he loved heroes and that he wanted to be one when he grew up. All night he had been bugging his grandfather to see if he could help him use his quirk. Much to the chagrin of Y/N.

Finally, Aizawa gave in, seeing this as an opportunity to not only bond with his grandson. This caused Hiro to bounce up and down with excitement. However, Y/N was hesitant, but her father assured her that everything would be just fine. It would allow her to get settled a bit more and would give her some free time to herself. Something that she rarely had these days. She could finally start wedding planning and was thinking about asking Uraraka and Ashido if they wanted to hang out. Plus, depending on when Bakugou got home they could also spend some alone time together as well. So albeit reluctantly, Y/N agreed and the plan was set for tomorrow.

As the night winded down, Hiro soon began to grow tired and a bit fussy. His mother quickly scooped him up, and was about to take him to bed when the little boy lifted his tired head up so he could wave goodbye to Hitoshi.

Soon after, Hitoshi headed home with the night’s events still swirling around in his mind. He kept going back to Hiro and the feeling he had in the depths of his stomach. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something about the boy that seemed off, even seemed familiar. He was once again shaken from his thoughts by an incoming text from Aizawa.

AIZAWA: Come to the U.A. training grounds to train with Hiro and I tomorrow. 9 AM.

Without hesitation, Hitoshi immediately responded.

HITOSHI: I’ll be there.

As he tried to drift off to sleep, Hitoshi knew that it would be impossible with the nagging feeling inside that wouldn’t go away. He resolved that tomorrow, he would get the answers to the questions that began to haunt his mind. Even if he had to put up a fight to get the information.

One way or another he was going to get to the bottom of things.

[let-it-raines]

Betting on the Bullseye (Part 6)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office's annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn't expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature

A/N: You guys are continuously the best, and I ask you to remember that not all things are resolved in one chapter :D

Found on ao3: beginning | current

Found on Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic​ @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog

“So tell me, darling,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the concave of Emma’s breasts before he finds her left wrist and feels the thin bones beneath her skin, “what exactly is this little mark on your wrist? It’s not a freckle, that much I’ve gathered. I don’t believe it’s a birthmark either.” He looks up from her wrist to see her eyes trained on his fingers, lips parted in fascination. She’s so bloody beautiful, her hair mused from their activities and her cheeks flushed in pink.

“It’s a tattoo.”

He barks out a laugh, the sensation rumbling through his stomach before he looks back at her wrist and sees that the mark is perfectly black and perfectly round, like the needle touched her skin before she pulled away. “Is it really? What would that be? The world’s tiniest tattoo?”

“No,” she shakes her head, pulling her wrist from his grasp so that she can look at it, eyes narrowed in concentration. “It was supposed to be a buttercup, but I chickened out the moment the needle hit my skin.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.” “Yeah, well, it was my eighteenth birthday, and I was finally going to do something not under the control of my foster parents at the time. But then I was basically, like, holy shit I’m not sure I want this on my skin for the rest of time. I’d never really had anything in my life that permanent, and it just seemed overwhelming.”

He grabs her wrist back, pulling it to him and pressing a kiss to her skin, right over the dot. “I like it. You ever think about going and getting it finished?”

“Nah,” she sighs, scooting closer to him and pulling the blankets up over them while her freezing feet stick between his calves, “not really. I like tattoos and all, but I never could quite figure out what I wanted. Maybe one day.” She runs her hands down his arm, finding his bare wrist. “What about you?”

“I actually almost got one as well, but it was only when I was thinking about going into the Navy.” “What?” Emma laughs, the sound sweet in his ears as her eyes scrunch up in amusement. “I didn’t know that. When were you almost in the Navy?”

“Well, you know, Liam was in it back home, the Royal Navy, and when we moved here, I didn’t know what else to do so I looked to see if I could enlist with how my citizenship was. But I couldn’t and instead started working building sets.”

“How does one go from almost joining the military to building sets for movies?”

“With a hell of a lot of luck and an older brother who found the job listing in the newspaper.”

“Wow,” she laughs, whistling under her breath, “that’s old school. A newspaper?”

“Hey now,” he chuckles, leaning over and pressing the quickest of kisses against her lips, feeling her smile into it, “I am not old. You’re four years younger than me, darling. Did you not do the same?”

“Online, buddy,” she speaks against his lips before capturing his bottom lip between her lips and rolling over so that she’s half on top of him, her skin smooth and soft and warm. “When’s your birthday anyways?”

“Shouldn’t you know that in all of your googling of me?” He waggles his eyebrows, and Emma slaps his shoulder while her eyes roll. “I’m kidding, love. It’s May eighth.”

“Gotta keep that in mind.” “Yeah, you planning on being around?”

He’s testing the waters, seeing if Emma’s willing to say anything in the darkness of the night and the playfulness between the two of them right now. He knows that she’s still slightly unsure of him, of this, and he’s taking a risk pushing her. But if anything, this week has proven they work well together, that they are good together.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, breasts moving against his chest, “if I can be. Or if you want me there.”

He moves his hand from her back to tuck her loose hair behind her ears. “I do want you there, but it’s on a Wednesday.”

“How do you know that already?”

“Because I know everything.”

“Such a smartass.”

Emma falls back asleep before he does, curling off of him and around her pillow while he struggles to fall into the same slumber, eventually succumbing after scrolling through his photo roll from the last week, deleting anything that’s blurry or unfocused. He wakes to movement and a loss of heat, his eyes opening to find Emma’s bare legs moving above him as she gets out of bed.

“Hey,” he mumbles, rolling over and grasping at the back of her bare thigh, skin unbelievably warm, “where are you going?”

“Downstairs for coffee,” she answers while his fingers move up and down her leg to try to coax her back to bed, wanting this morning to last as long as possible, “but I need something to wear because your house is freezing.”

“I think your jeans are somehow over by the balcony door.” “Yeah, that’s not happening. Those are like wearing spanx over my entire body. Where’s your closet?”

“In the bathroom, on the right.”

Emma walks away then, swaying her hips in a way that he truly appreciates, and he watches her go until his phone goes off. He fumbles around to find it, seeing that Will texted him to ask about plans for the day. He can’t do anything. He’s got Emma and work, and Will’s going to have to wait to hang out until Emma’s not around, as sad as that makes him. While they’re texting, he mentions Emma, telling Will about her staying with him and saying they’ll talk later about all of the new things in their lives. It’s been awhile since they had a beer.

Now that he’s a little more sure with what’s happening with them, he’s got to tell the rest of his friends and his family. Really now, Liam is the only one who doesn’t know, and he makes a mental note to tell he and Elsa that’s he’s seeing someone new. Maybe Emma can meet everyone the next time she’s in LA, whenever that will be.

If that’s not too much. She might not be up for that.

He hears a cough before looking up to see Emma wearing the blasted ugly Christmas sweater he bought to match hers for the video. He barks out a laugh, unable to contain his amusement at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Bloody hell, darling, what possessed you to put that on?”

“What possessed you to keep it?”

His right eyebrow ticks up, and his hands find their way to her hips under the sweater, pulling her down on top of him so that she’s straddling his hips, her skin warm against his.

“What? You’re telling me you didn’t keep yours?”

“Only because we have a tacky Christmas sweater party at the office every year.”

He hums as his hands run up her sides over the sweater, finding their way to rest at her neck. “You know, the first time I ever saw you, you were wearing this sweater. I was actually in this very bed and thought you were beautiful.”

“That sounds a little pervy, Killian.”

His eyes roll, and he leans forward to press a quick kiss against her cheek. “Shut it, Swan. That’s not what I meant. Robin showed me your video, and he found you to be positively charming, just as I did.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like that video to be purged from the internet.” His eyebrow quirks again, and he smiles looking up at her, the sweater only making everything better. He can definitely understand her not wanting that to be online, but he’s rather fond of the video that brought them together. “Not that I’m not glad I’m here. I am. I know I said that last night but – I really…I really like you.”

His thumb moves against her cheek and he swears he can practically see the affection in her eye. “I like you, too, darling. You need not worry about those affections being returned.” He rolls his hips to make a point, and she scoffs, laughter making its way through the both of them even with his ridiculously dirty move when his attraction to Emma is so much more than physical. “Obviously. I’d also really like that breakfast you were talking about before I see you off, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan, Stan.”

“You have to stop saying that.”

“Never.”

She climbs off his lap, adjusting the sweater while leaving the bedroom and walking down the hall. He takes a moment to calm himself down after Emma walks away, leaving an imaginary trail of green tinsel behind her. God, that’s the sweater that somehow keeps on giving when it comes to her. How dare she suggest he throw it out. He never would, especially now that he knows her so intimately, physically yes, but mostly emotionally. She’s bloody wonderful, and her telling him she likes him meant the world to him, even if he’s far past that stage.

But he’ll let Emma pace them, her walls built a little higher than his when it comes to trusting someone new with their hearts.

Groaning with the ache in his strained thighs, he gets out of bed, pulling on his sweatpants from work yesterday and brushing his teeth before walking downstairs, a bounce in his step he hasn’t had in awhile despite how tired he is, how much Emma wore him out last night. She’s leaving today, but he’s trying not to think about that too much, pushing the thoughts down knowing that he has to work right after she gets on her flight and that’ll distract him from his melancholy. It’s been a blessed week, and not just last night – or early this morning really – and his mind is already running through scenarios of him being finished with filming and able to fly to Boston to visit her near the end of April. It’s only a month, maybe a bit more really, but it feels a bit longer right now.

Even if he’s trying to push that thought to the back of his mind so that he can enjoy breakfast with Emma before he drives her to LAX.  

He hears voices when he gets downstairs, and the moment he recognizes the one that’s not Emma, his pulse increases and his body heats in fear.

Fuck.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

“I was invited. Killian invited me.”

“Why would he do that? Are you delusional? You asked him out through a video, so I’m kind of thinking you are. God, I should have talked to him about that, especially after I saw the photos. I should have never let it slide.”

“He’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions.”

“I’m calling the police.”

“Liam,” he hisses, stepping into the room to see Emma shielding herself behind the island counter while Liam stands with his arms crossed by the stove. He looks pissed, but so is Killian. Liam can’t just barge into his home and accost his guests and then threaten to call the police like he knows what’s going on. “What the fuck, brother? You can’t just walk in my home and start yelling at someone I asked to be here.”

“What are you talking about, little brother? You asked her to be here? She’s a fan. Have you lost it?”

His blood boils, the rage setting in as he stares down his brother. “She’s…we’re dating. And she’s supposed to be here. You’re not.”

“I have a key, and I hadn’t heard from you in days,” Liam grits, straightening his shoulders in a move that Killian knows is an intimidation factor he’s perfected over the years. He’s not going to let it work today, not with this. “I was worried about you and walking into this didn’t exactly help my fears. How was I supposed to know she hadn’t broken into your house? She’s even wearing the bloody sweater.”

“I’m just,” Emma stutters, stepping backward until she’s standing beside him, her hand lightly brushing his, “I’m going to go upstairs and get packed to leave. I feel like this isn’t my conversation to be had.”

“Emma,” he cautions, looking down at her with pleading eyes, “you don’t have to go.”

She smiles. It’s soft, and it’s sad, something he doesn’t want to see grace her face when they were just so happy. So damn happy. Fuck, he should have already told Liam, but he was waiting to see where this was going and was going to tell him later this week. He was already planning it all out. He knew Liam would be protective, but he didn’t think he’d be like this. This is ridiculous. He’s a grown man. He should be able to make his own damn choices. Why the hell is his brother acting like this?

“No, Killian, I think I do.”

At that, Emma walks out of the room, leaving him with Liam and an anger that’s barely contained within him.

“What the hell was that? What do you mean you’re dating her?”

“I mean that she and I are seeing each other,” he explains, stepping forward and slamming his hands against the marble counter. “We talk, kiss, she stays at my place, all the things normal people do. You’re married. You should understand the concept.”

He doesn’t technically know if they’re dating, the words not explicitly said between them, but if anyone doesn’t need to know that right now, it’s Liam who seems to have a stick up his arse this morning.

“Very funny, brother,” Liam scoffs while rolling his eyes. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, well, so you’ve said. I do, and it’s really not any of your goddamn business.”

“Killian, you could be making a mistake here. Think about what’s happened before.”

“You’re not my father, Liam. And I’m a grown man in my thirties, not some naïve kid who doesn’t know better. I can make my own choices without your judgment even if you don’t seem to think so right now.”

“I am the closet thing you have to a dad, and you need my help.”

“We don’t have a dad, Liam,” he spits, stepping closer to Liam so that their feet touch. “I sure as hell don’t need you to be one because you likely scared Emma away when that’s absolutely the last thing that I needed or wanted. I am willing to try again, to open myself up after not being with someone for so long, and you aren’t even giving Emma the benefit of the doubt. Hell, you’re not even giving it to me.”

Liam’s lips part before he scratches at his chin, his jaw ticking. “You’re bloody in love with the woman.”

“Of course I am.” He slaps his hands against his thighs before running his hands through his hair, making it stand up in a hundred different ways, and taking a few steps back as he shakes his head back and forth in frustration. “I love her, and you’re being an insufferable ponce.”

“She’s a fan, little brother. How could you be so blind? Have you not learned your lesson from the past? All I want is to protect you.”

“Younger brother, and while I’m younger than you, I’m not bloody stupid. I know what I’m doing here.”

“Do you?” He takes a step forward so that he towers over Killian. He’s not that much shorter, but at this moment, he feels about as big as a child. “She practically ran away when someone other than you knew about her, someone who could protect you. Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious?”

“For God’s sake, Liam. You walked in on her while she was barely dressed and then threatened to call the police on her. She’s embarrassed and likely pretty pissed that you berated her when you realized who she was. It’s not suspicious. Robin knows about her, so does Will as of this morning. It’s new and we’re figuring things out, and I don’t need you and your pompous arse ways ruining something before it even begins.”

“Killian – ”

“No, just leave. I’ll talk to you later when I don’t want to punch you, but I don’t want you here right now. And I’d rather you not try to talk to me until I call you. I’ll work things out with you later since you’re not flying across the country this afternoon.”

He doesn’t wait for Liam to leave before he runs up the stairs, his anger at his brother replaced with fear that Emma’s going to be in her room packing her bags and leaving without saying goodbye. She’s not in her room, her bag still unpacked with clothes everywhere, and he checks in the bathroom before jogging to his room and finding her sitting on the couch he has out on the balcony, the sliding glass doors open so that the ocean air travels in.

“Hey,” he whispers, cautiously walking outside and squatting down in front of her, taking her hands in his even though she doesn’t squeeze back, her hands cool against his, “you okay?”

She doesn’t look at him, her gaze trained on the water outside. She’s so bloody beautiful even with her hair all knotted and her makeup smudged while wearing a ridiculous Christmas sweater. But she’s probably pissed and upset, and he’s honestly surprised he wasn’t immediately berated for everything that just happened. He can’t even begin to imagine how she feels. It’s one thing for him to be pissed at his brother. It’s another for Emma to have been berated by a man she doesn’t know for doing nothing but existing. God, Liam, why of all mornings did he have to show up today?

He rubs his thumb over her knuckles trying to coax her to look at him, and when she finally does, he gives her a lopsided smile.

She doesn’t return it.

“Is your bother always such an ass? I thought you said he was your best friend.”

“He is, and he can be,” he explains, trying to think how to explain things to her. He knows Liam was wrong and an arse, and he’s right pissed at him. But he’s still is brother, and there has to be a way to work all of this out. He can’t – he doesn’t want any of these relationships to be suffering, but it might be too late now, at least with Emma. Liam can be easily fixed, their bond too strong not to make it past something like this. “Liam’s my brother, but he’s also like a father figure, as you know. He’s a little protective.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes and yanking her hands away from his to cross them under her chest. “I don’t have a brother or a father, but that wasn’t protective. That was asshole. And I know I have no right to be a raging bitch to you about your brother but – ”

“You have every right.”

“Okay, then. Your brother makes a fucking horrible first impression, and I kind of want to shove a very pointy heel up his ass. How dare he accuse me of all of that. I’m an adult. I’m not some kid in a foster home who gets reprimanded for being out of bed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I sure as hell shouldn’t be reprimanded for being in a house I’m supposed to be in.”

He cringes, the thought that she’d relate that back to her time in foster homes not occurring to him. He should have known. He spent time in them himself, and she’s right. He knows what it’s like to be yelled at for being somewhere you thought was safe, and it’s not pleasant. God, this is all screwed up.

“I know.”

“And fuck Killian,” she uncrosses her arms and throws them in the air, “why the hell didn’t you tell him about me? What was this? Just some game? A week vacation just so you could sleep with me? Because I’m feeling like an idiot right now.” “Emma no. I lo – I like you so much. You have no idea.”

“Then what? Because all of my friends know about you. And don’t think I missed how Robin thought I was here for some kind of fan engagement. I’m kind of feeling like a dirty little secret right now, and that is not me. I’m not a plaything or someone to be ashamed of.” “Swan, I know, okay? I fucked up. My brother fucked up. We all fucked up. I’m not ashamed of you. I just didn’t know what to say. It sounds so stupid now, but I didn’t…don’t know what we are. And I felt like it would be odd for me to just tell them I’ve made a new friend who I very much like, but I’m now realizing I went about this all wrong. But Emma, love, never in my wildest dreams could I be ashamed of you. I am so, so sorry that I could ever make you feel that way. You don’t deserve it.”

Her eyes flicker up and down his body, the green not nearly as bright as usual despite the water that resides there. She’s studying him, using her superpower she shared with him one night during a phone call to see if he’s lying. He knows that’s what she’s doing, and he tries to steady his gaze. He’s not lying. Every word he said was true, and he hopes she sees that. She has to see that. He can’t lose her, not now, not after he’s finally feeling like things are going right.

But if she wants to go, if this bothers her enough, he has to let her. He can fight for her, but she has to want him. And if anything, he deserves for her to be furious with him. He did screw up. Liam certainly hasn’t helped matters, making everything an absolute shit show, but it isn’t all Liam’s fault. A lot of it is on him.

“I believe you,” she finally whispers, her eyelashes hitting against her cheeks before she looks him dead in the eye, “but I am pissed. That’s not just going to go away.”

“I know.”

“And I still have to go home.”

“I know.”

She wipes away under her cheeks before looking back out at the ocean, the sky suddenly dark and waves rough, as if a storm is coming. “I need to pack.”

“You have time.”

“Not really. I’m supposed to be at the airport in an hour, and if anything, I know that traffic is horrible here.” She gets up then, using the sweater to cover herself and then walking through the balcony doors into his bedroom and out of view.

He leaves her be while she packs, picking up her clothes from the bedroom and folding them before getting her shirt from the hallway, picking his own up as well. It’s all a mess, but he thinks that it has to get better. It can’t possibly get worse right now But he has to stop screwing up when it comes to Emma. Like she said, her coming here this week was a huge deal for her – for him too – and after so many days of bliss, it’s been mucked up in a matter of minutes.

Sighing, he takes the folded clothes and heads down to her room, knocking on the door even though it’s ajar. He doesn’t want to invade in her personal space if she doesn’t want him to. She’s changed into leggings and a sweatshirt, the Christmas sweater long gone.

“Hi,” he holds up the clothes, “I brought you these.”

She gives him a soft smile, lips slightly tugging up before taking the clothes out of his hands, her fingers brushing against his skin and sending pinpricks throughout his body. “Thank you. I, um, I need to go soon.”

“I know. Can I still take you to the airport?”

She nods her head in answer before turning around and finishing her packing. He stays at the doorway for a moment, watching her, before heading back to his room and taking a shower, letting the hot water hit his skin and burn out all of his frustrations.

He takes her to the airport, and as if the world has decided to turn against him, there’s no traffic on the way to LAX. He was expecting time with her, time to work things out, but he gets there in record time after a car ride full of awkward silences and stilted conversations. He needs more than this, doesn’t want to let her go quite yet, so instead of dropping her off at the curb he pays for one-day parking and pulls into the spot nearest to the building.

When he turns the engine off, neither of them move, silence settling between them while planes roar up above and car horns honk in the distance.

“I should – ”

“Please don’t.”

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Swan, I know you have to go. You have to be at work tomorrow, and you have this entire life at home. A life that is yours and wonderful, and I’m so glad I’ve gotten to be a part of it. But I don’t want this week to be it. And I know I fucked up, but I can be better. Do better. For you.”

“I’m not…it’s not that. It’s not you,” she fumbles, resting her head back against the seat and turning to face him, the corners of her lips tugging downward. “It’s…God, Killian. It’s just that I’ve had a bad day. This morning was like coming down from some kind of wonderful high, and I’m wallowing in it and in going home. I need some time to think things through. But it’s fine. We’re – whatever we are is fine.”

“Yeah?”

She smiles and nods her head before her palm find his cheek, fingers running over the scruff. “You and me, KJ, we are complicated, this relationship, us being together, and us on our own, but despite every fear that I have, I think things might be okay. If anything, I think me going home will allow us to calm down and help us figure things out. God knows I need it.”

He turns his head and kisses her palm, lingering there for a moment. “So you’re not going to get on that plane and never talk to me again?”

“You know too much. I can’t stop talking to you now.”

He barks out a laugh, the tension in the small space fading away, before leaning across the console and tentatively pressing a kiss against Emma’s cheek, lingering to see if her body tenses or if she’d relax into it, silently letting him know how she feels about more physical contact. She doesn’t tense and she doesn’t relax, but she does turn her head and press a kiss against the corner of his lips, almost there but not quite.

“I have to go.”

“I know,” he sighs, smiling down at her with their foreheads pressed together. “There’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you.”

“And yet I’m the stalker.” He laughs against her lips before kissing her again, a fleeting little thing that’s not enough, but it’s a real kiss this time. And she kisses him back. “Good.”

They get out of the car, and he gets her luggage out of the trunk, placing it on the ground and locking everything back up. He begins to trail it toward the walkway so they can go inside, but she stops him, her hand on his chest.

“I can go in on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“I do know how to take care of myself believe it of not.” She rolls her eyes before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug, the scent of her perfume invading his senses. She smells like flowers and the vanilla of her shampoo that’s lingering on his sheets. He’s going to miss that. It sounds insane, but he is. She pulls back and takes a step away, separating them and smiling. “I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan, love.”

He nods and she turns around, walking away with her suitcase trailing behind her, and he feels like the most dramatic arse in the world. He is, isn’t? He shouldn’t be this upset, but he’s also watching the woman he loves walk away when they’re still unsure of everything. It’s a new relationship, and all of the thrills and fears spark through his body as he watches the blonde hair disappear around the corner.

The skies open up then, the storm he sensed earlier while out on the balcony coming into full effect, and it storms in Los Angeles twice in one week, water beginning to wash everything away while also nurturing new growth.

Killian drives to set after dropping Emma off, pulling through the guarded gates and parking before making his way to hair and makeup. It usually doesn’t take long, but he knows that they have to paint cuts and bruises across his skin today, making everything elongated. He closes his eyes as his makeup artists do their magic, occasionally taking a sip of the coffee that was already waiting for him when he arrived, and when he opens them up, he looks as if he’s been slashed across the face, blood escaping his skin.

“Bloody hell,” he grimaces, testing out his facial movements, “this is fantastic but also terrifying, Kendall.”

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing on your mannequin.”

“Love, I’ll never quite be over you having a realistic copy of my face. It’s damn creepy.”

“Yeah, well, it helps. Don’t get wet when you’re going to costume, okay?”

“I’ll try my best.”

He’s dressed in his worn and battered clothing, rips and blood stains covering his body before he spends the next three hours shooting the aftermath of the fight scene they begin yesterday. It’s like torture, his body aching with every movement, and he knows half of it is from the physical exertion of the stunts yesterday but the other half is from him rutting himself into Emma for half of the night. God, how the hell does being sore make him think of her? That’s ridiculous.

But the scene is eventually finished, and while he’s sure they’ll make them do reshoots later, he’s glad to get to sit down and have his makeup removed before a few new, lesser scars are added to show his healing as days past while the rest of this scenes for this episode are filmed throughout the rest of the day and far into the night.

He lets a driver take him home, leaving his car there to pick up tomorrow, and by the time he gets into bed, he’s nearly asleep, eyes fluttering closed until he remembers that he hasn’t talked to Emma, his phone staying in his trailer without use all day.

Emma: Just landed. It was a long flight, and the woman next to me talked the entire time.

Emma: I know all about her son’s problems in his marriage, and she asked for my advice on what young women want out of relationships.

Emma: There was very long conversation about sex. I have still not recovered.

Emma: Anyways, I’m home, back at the apartment and everything. Maybe you could call me when you get these?

He checks the time stamps and sees that these are all from hours ago, and while it’s four in the morning here, it’s seven back in Boston and Emma will be up getting ready for work. Pressing her number, he calls.

“Hello?” she answers, yawning into it.

“Hi, love. Sorry I missed your texts earlier. It was a crazy day of filming, but I’m glad you’re home safely.”

“Me too. Don’t you need to be sleeping?”

“No, no,” he protests even as he curls himself into bed, “tell me about your flight before you have to go to work. I want to hear all about this sex talk of yours.”

“Of course you do.”

“Yeah, well, can you blame me? You’ve painted an interesting tale.”

“Okay,” she begins before weaving him the tale of her flight home and her time in the airport, lulling him into a sense of comfort he hasn’t really felt in the past twenty-four hours. He didn’t think she’d be open to so much talking, but he can hear the smile and the laugh in her voice as well as the sounds of traffic behind her as she moves through the streets of Boston. Things are messed up, repairs still needed to be made and conversations needed to be had, but for this moment, he thinks he and Emma are going to be okay.

[local-idiot-heartbroken-blog]

06.12 - 06.18: How I Ruined My Life In Under a Week

This was by far my busiest week socially (this says a lot about how uneventful my life has been in my 21 years of life). Regardless, it was very enjoyable and provided a much needed change of pace.

Breakdown:

6/12: Had a celebratory dinner for the end of finals for Baery’s ass. We ate at The Boiler, which was really good, so much so that I am going again with my family soon. Then my friend imploded on both of us and left an unsettling mood for a bit. Condolences.

6/13: Another dinner plan but this time with Francis and Andy in OC. We ate from one of those random local taco trucks, the food was decent. After, we got boba and watched Avengers, which they both really liked (I already saw it prior and it was extremely difficult not to spoil).

6/14: After work, I headed to Riverside for Jackie’s party. Caught up with AJ and Royce at Tiff’s apartment (haven’t seen them in over a year and surprisingly it was still natural talking with them). Once we were at Jackie’s, holy shit it was so hot and musty. All these sweaty ass Asians cramped on one floor, half already gone, while the other half are in awkward cliques. After a few shots, an L in beer pong and some small talk with random drunks we left that sausage fest (thank god).

6/15: My first time at a company party, and I had a lot of fun. The event was much more organized than I expected. They had casino games, two djs and plenty of food/drinks. It was my first time gambling (although it was with fake money) and my luck was the best of the night. I drank about 5 shots and two cups of some mixed drink (personal record so far) and surprisingly I was still functional by the end of the night. I never really believed/understood the social aspect of drinking with your bosses, but this night proved to me that it is a very real thing. Overall the night was filled with many memories that I will cherish.

6/16: Lione’s show at The Union was on Saturday. To be honest, I only knew one of his songs, but Francis was super excited to see him and the tickets were only $13 (I’m guessing Ami was there for the same reason as me). We made our way to KTown for food and to kill time before the show. I told them we shouldn’t go on time because only losers go to events right on time (Shout out to Barry for teaching me that). We got boba at Tan-Cha and I must say their matcha was one of the highest quality I’ve ever had from a boba place. For some odd reason they were playing strictly Taylor Swift in the store even though majority of people in the store were fobs. I tried to make small talk with a cute worker at an ice cream store where we were getting dessert at. She was not having it LOL. Around 10:00 we made our way to the venue, struggled a bit, but got that free parking. The setting was very similar to Jackie’s party situation, a bunch of sweaty Asians, but this time in a dark room with loud EDM blasting. Although we only went for Lione, the opening acts were all really great. There is something so surreal about live performances, I felt so immersed in the music. I was DD so I bought rounds for Ami and Francis (an early graduation gift for them) because they were literally walking hours after the event. In attempt to get out of my comfort zone again, I asked a girl if she wanted to get closer to the stage (I really was trying to dance with her) but she declined it LOL. To make matters worse, some rude white bitch yelled at me to get away from her friend when I was asking her if she wanted to get past me. This bitch really thought I wanted her beanpole friend who was flailing around on the dance floor. Lione’s performance was really amazing, the energy of the crowd was unreal. We left the event with two new friends, who were nice enough to walk us all the way to our car. Francis was really into one of them (Nicole), too bad she has a bf. Once I got home, I had trouble going to sleep because I was overwhelmed with emotions from the whole experience. The whole day was a great time, I am really happy I decided on a whim to go.

6/17: Sunday was a necessary break from all the hectic events. All I did the whole day was hw and worked on my new business venture. I also reflected on how I could be a better person for myself, my family and friends/loved ones. The most productive day out of the last 6 for sure lol.

6/18: This was the most important day out of whole week of events. My bestie Barry was finally graduating after all the years (I’d like to believe Tiffany and I played a big role in convincing him to walk). I freed up my whole day in honor of his dumb ass. I couldn’t sleep the night before I’m not sure why. I was a little anxious about the ceremony because I thought I was going to be watching alone, but luckily Jenna spotted me and we all sat together. We all bonded through our jokes about Barry and the ceremony seemed to fly by. His family was super cute and supportive with their print outs of his many expressions. It was wholesome af! I was the first person to make it to Parkway Grill besides Barry’s family and I was awkwardly engaging in small talk with them. Despite the large party, lunch went smoothly. I didn’t feel out of place at all and we all shared food and laughs. But the celebration was far from over, our next location was at Barry’s family’s house. We played a few drinking games (some Chinese game that I still don’t understand and beer pong) before hopping into the pool to play volleyball. Huy and I won both games, even though they don’t want to admit. Sherry and the others started barbecuing while the rest of us proceeded to dry off. My second bestie, Tiffany, finally showed up and the legendary trio was at last complete! Around 7-8pm is where mistakes started to be made (lol *facepalm*). Succumbing to many opportunities of peer pressure I kept taking shots with everyone. I was feeling good and thought this time around I’d be okay because I ate before, but almost all at once the alcohol hit my system. By 10pm I was clearly drunk, flushed face, sloppy motor functions and touchiness. Thanks Sherry for letting me lay on you and keeping me warm (; (sorry Tiffany). Courtney and Mark dragged me off her and brought me inside to rest on the couch. The whole time I’m having an internal struggle between my body’s desire to vomit and my desire to keep it down. Eventually my body gave in and I threw up 4 times with most of it going into the bag (sorry once again Tiffany LOL). Immediately after my violent vomit session I felt much better, but I was still dazing in and out of consciousness. Many people were coming in to say bye (Sherry, Courtney, Mark, Brandon, Tiffany are the only ones I remember). Although I planned on driving home and going to work on Tuesday, I ended up crashing at Barry’s parent’s house in the guest room. Huge shoutout to Barry and his family for having unrivaled hospitality. That was my first time ever having to stay the night due to intoxication, it was lit as this generation would put it. To end this insanely long post, I want to extend my congratulations again to Barry and Tiffany for graduating. They’re my bbs and I always wish the best for them. Looking forward to more days/weeks/years with memories as sweet as these.

( ◠‿◠ )

[keporkak]

koi’ve decided to write a little diary here again, since 1. i need to practice my english 2. i really need to declutter my brain 3. i miss being able to remember little day to day things, and revisiting my thoughts even years later. so here goes - this is i suppose kinda private, but not really, it IS on a public tumblr - however one that nobody visits much (hello arlet!)

so this is a ramble about my new job, a long bit about my plants and my garden.

i’ve been at this new office job (scoff!! why, again?) for 2 weeks and i’m not sure i’ll last more than a month. after the whole quarantine thing, i realised how much i love just... not having to wake up in the morning when i’m least functional, getting ready (i hate how much effort i have to put into my appearance. i know i dont HAVE to, but I feel like once you set a standard at a new workplace you kinda... can’t go below it without people actively noticing it), and taking 40 minutes by buses to get there. this was supposed to be a remote job!! and i don’t feel competent at it at all!! and people are pretty dismissive and rude!!! and i wrote like 3 paragraphs just complaining about it, but i deleted those just now. idk, what’s the point, right. i just don’t like it here, and i will last till the end of the month so i get one proper payout and then i might just quit and REALLY try to survive on freelance. if ONLY i was more successful at building an audience, and potential customers!! jesus. i don’t know. i don’t draw because i don’t feel like people care to see it, and obviously if i don’t try i won’t gain anything. why am i like this

anyway, a nice thing is that i feel like my plants are trying to cheer me up?

first of all, pretty much all of my 16 houseplants are doing well - my monstera deliciosa is SUCH a good lil bugger, she keeps sprouting new leaves every week! soon she’ll have to be repotted at this rate. and my finicky calathea, whom i recently treated of mites, which involved meticulously scrubbing every leaf with a toothbrush, is also sprouting two new leaves - something i have NEVER seen her do in the months of owning her. i guess this is her way of thanking me!

in addition to that - after my balcony garden got SCORCHED by the sudden heatwave this month, it’s finally recovering - i threw out the ugly little flowers that completely dried out and replaced them with fresh herbs (more my style, the flowers were a gift from my dad). i planted my some lemon balm, chives, oregano, mint, and my favorite herb - parsley. in addition to that, my strawberry plant has waken up from its little coma - after the insane harvest of spring berries it exhausted itself and went dormant - and now it’s round two, baby! she’s full of fresh leaves and flowers and everyday i get to snack on at least 4 new ripe strawbs. i can’t believe my dad suggested throwing her out after she stopped bearing fruit and got burnt leaves from the sun! look at her now. beautiful. dad’s jealous now, too, we bought the strawberry plants together from the same store and his never did this well.

i still have an abundance of cherry tomatoes and my bell peppers are finally ripening too, which is nice. on top of that, i planted some raddish and kohlrabi (turnip?) and to my shock, after my weekend camping trip, i found that they have both sprouted already! that’s like, four days! damn.

my heart still aches after the tragic loss of my favourite one  - the pea plant that i managed to, in record time, raise from a seed into a full grown plant that gave me exactly 12 delicious pea pods before succumbing to sudden 35 celsius heat. I nearly cried when i had to throw it out, but i kept the pot.... and like a phoenix from its ashes, it has risen again!! a little sprout, but we’ll see how it does. we do love a good comeback story!

today i also bought an ivy plant that i planted next to the herbs (is that a good idea? idk we’ll see) and some seeds that i planted, too (basil, more parsley, more chives, spinach, and some pea seeds that i sprinkled around my pea plant to give it some company hopefully, haha). we’ll see. i enjoy growing plants from nothing - it feels incredibly invigorating to see baby greens poking out of the dirt where there was nothing before. it’s not easy, but it’s rewarding.

random cute stuff from the past week that i can think of :

-camping trip was nice. saw a lot of gorgeous nature, went for a really nice long bike ride, ate some really good ice cream.

-biking is still amazing, i love my bike (i named him lestat, cause he’s got sass) and i go almost every day. thank god petržalka is such a heaven for cyclists. 

-cashier lady in billa complimented me on my stag beetle brooch that i have on my bag strap. it is a not much of a brooch, it is literally a 10 cm plastic beetle that i glued pin closings to, and he’s very visible on my chest. looks pretty realistic. it was nice to see him appreciated!!

-i might start streaming, just for my friends? like, videogames. i’m good at some, very good at others, and i can talk passionately about most, and that’s why throughout my life many of my friends and family members really enjoyed watching me play. i don’t know, but i don’t mind. i don’t really want an audience of strangers, but i don’t mind the occasional company and giving my friends something to fall asleep to. i mean i play vidya often anyway, so there is not much extra effort there haha

also, not cute, but tomorrow i have my 3 hour dentist session. i’m not excited for it, but i guess it’ll bring me a bit closer to my new teeth. jesus, i can’t wait. i know it will take like 2 more months to have it all done, but i really really want it to be done.

[sarah-bae-maas]

A Court of Hearts and Darkness Chapter Twenty Two

It’s been over a century since the epic and bloody war against Hybern, but a new, unprecedented horror lies in wait to threaten everything the Inner Circle holds dear.

At a mere 17, it seems that the only one who can save them is the Heir to the Night Court, Feyre and Rhysand’s daughter Eleana, but as a creature so vile promises to kill everyone she loves, she must combat the urge to succumb to the darkness herself. The key to success lies hidden within her mate, the bastard born Kaden, who is as oblivious to the bond as her Court is oblivious to the war on the horizon.

With the help of her cousin and warrior Felix, the son of the famed Nesta and Cassian, they will try to save everything they hold dear, hopefully before the darkness takes them all.

(This fic was written pre-acowar, so please bear in mind there are some small differences but it can still hopefully be enjoyed!)

Link on Ao3 Masterlist

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***

It liked watching them.

Had ever since the dark female had wandered into its space and roused its creatures, and then sent her father after them too. Silly girl. There was nothing for any fae to find once it was done with the sacred mountain.

It found the dark half breed quite intriguing. It liked to watch her sneak away with her golden mate, liked to sometimes picture itself as her when he pushed her against the tree and fucked her.

It watched the golden male as he struggled to find his mother with half hopes created from a single sentence uttered from the seer. Son of Denora Ana. It watched as he stared longingly at the dark girl even though she was already his.

It became furious when they would not take its gifts. Snarled and killed when they dismissed what it left for them.

It wanted her body, and it wanted it now. It would make another move soon, and when the soul bound pair was apart it would strike. But first, it would weaken them. It would tear them apart so its transition was easier.

When it was done, everything the dark girl and golden boy loved would be gone.

____

 “What do you mean you’re leaving? I thought father was too busy with the investigation?” Eleana stood absolutely perplexed in front of her mother. There were three things that made her question what the fuck was going on. Firstly, her mother was clutching a travel bag and was claiming she was going to be visiting the High Lord for the next three days. Which left Eleana to her second big question, why was Feyre and Rhys, after all these months of dutifully watching their daughter, now just up and leaving with nothing but a few moments notice? And lastly, how could they afford the time away while the High Lord and Cassian were investigating the evidence of the creature attacks in Prythian?

It was not uncommon for Feyre to leave Eleana alone for short periods of time while she rekindled with Rhys, both parents felt as though she was old enough, and more importantly, mature enough to take care of herself at camp. But since the attacks on Eleana and Felix they hadn’t dared leave her, sometimes paranoid when she only went to training. So why now? What was going on?

“Your father bought us these passes at a spa in the Winter Court nearly a year ago - before everything happened. It was an early anniversary present and we felt that you were ready to be in the house on your own again.” Feyre smiled hopefully at Eleana.

Eleana, although very confused, nodded. “Of course. That makes perfect sense.” Her confusion must have read as hesitance to Feyre, as the High Lady carefully put her bag down and gave Eleana a tender hug.

“I will not go if you don’t want me too. I’d much rather spend my days here with you then at some pretentious spa anyway.” Feyre pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“No, that’s fine!” Over the past seven weeks, as Eleana and Kaden had explored their newfound relationship with one another, Eleana finally knew the pure, unabashed joys of sharing her life with her mate. They had their problems still, but being with Kaden was the best thing to ever happen to her. Eleana could not imagine the pain she would be in if circumstances meant that her and Kaden had to live their lives separately – the exact way it was for Eleana’s parents. Eleana felt a shameful selfishness as she thought of how maybe she did want her mother to stay. Wanted her to be there at night when she awoke crying from her relentless dreams, when all she needed was her father and her mother would summon him and he’d be there in a second. It made Eleana nervous to think that she wouldn’t have anyone there for her. But, and it was for the definite best, Eleana wanted her mother to spend the time with her mate she desperately needed.

“Maybe tonight we could have dinner with the children?” Feyre asked. “It’s been nearly a week since I’ve seen them.” Since Eleana had finally returned to the throng of training she used to have, Feyre had thrown herself back in to correcting the injustices towards women and bastard children. That meant that all the children that loved Eleana so much just because she was Feyre’s daughter got to spend some quality time with the High Lady again. Wondrously, Feyre had never managed to encounter Kaden while she was there, and Eleana suspected Felix had a great deal to do with it.

“No, wait, you should go.” Eleana pushed away from Feyre, picking up her bag and shoving it at her. “I’ll be fine here on my own, I’ll probably only be sleeping anyway.” A lie, even though Eleana had promised herself she would stop doing it. A plan had formed in her head, a thing to do that she only could in the absence of both her parents.

Feyre beamed at her and clutched the bag to her chest. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Summon me if you need anything, even if it’s something small, okay? I love you so much.” Feyre enveloped her in a hug again, and Eleana was glad that her parents would be spending some much-needed alone time together. There weren’t many things more intense than a mating bond and the love that came with it, and who was Eleana to take that away from her mother?

The giddiness in Feyre’s steps as she ran to winnow to her mate spoke of the fairy-tale love that lived with her parents every day, a love Eleana was going to hopefully achieve.

With her mother gone so suddenly, Eleana clambered to hopefully fix one of the major roadblocks in her and Kaden’s relationship. If she was going to be alone, she was going to take full advantage of it.

Although deliriously happy with Kaden, something had been in the way. And it wasn’t her problem, it was completely and utterly his. She had noticed as soon as he’d confessed his love for her that something was holding him back. It was the same thing as always: his heritage.  

They would be walking in the forest, talking and kissing, when someone would appear and he’d let go of her hand. She would watch him train with the Elite, and after when she’d try to approach him he would serve away and try to act casual. She didn’t think any of his acts were conscious ones. The only person he was free around was Felix. Eleana knew that he didn’t act like this because he was ashamed of her, he was ashamed of himself and his imaginary inadequacies.

Felix had noticed and asked her about it a few weeks ago, why he was like this if Eleana had convinced him of her love. Eleana told him a plain and simple truth, one most people did not understand.

Being in love, and having that love reciprocated, was not a magical cure all for your mental health.

Eleana felt carefree and safe with Kaden, yet she still had nightmares daily. Kaden undoubtedly knew her love for him, but that didn’t stop him from wondering if he was good enough for her.

She would show him if it killed her how much his station did not matter at all. She knew it would take time to convince him, but she was willing to put in the effort. Kaden would for her, she already saw him doing it for Felix. She loved him so much, and she believed in that love enough to know that one day, no matter the obstacles they faced, his feelings would never be one of them.

With this in mind, she went to go find him. She yanked on the bond between them, the invisible line that connected them at all times. It had grown since they had been together, and sometimes the force of it shook her. It shocked her that Kaden hadn’t figured it out yet. Another thing Felix had asked her about – why she had not told Kaden of the bond.

Her answer was another simple one. She would never tell him.

He would come to the conclusion in his own time. With his feelings the way they were, Eleana knew that if she told him of the bond he would likely think her feelings had stemmed from some ingrained sense of obligation towards him, especially since she had known about it from the day they’d met. He would then begin to question himself in an unhealthy way, much like he did now but unpredictably worse, and she couldn’t do that.

He would know one day, and in the meantime, he would contribute their bond to her daemati abilities, and she was okay with that - truly.

She walked through the afternoon sun still in her training gear. She had just come back from a session with Alixia when she’d found her mother about to leave. She never bothered to change, especially if she knew she was going to see Kaden that night. There was nothing more satisfying than the male stripping her of her training gear before completely devouring her.

She waved her hellos to numerous Illyrians as she passed, but was focused on finding her mate. She had never been able to bring him to her home, and tonight that was going to change. She had made a new plan for the day, and she was going to stick to it. As she walked, she passed a store where you could hire Illyrians to run your errands for you. She went in and found a petite boy and gave him a list of instructions to follow that were essential for that night. She paid him generously and then was off.

Unsurprisingly, when she found Kaden he was with her cousin. They were acting like fools to entertain the crowd of children around them. Kaden had a boy on his shoulders who was wrestling with another resting on Felix’s. Felix and Kaden were egging them along, and Eleana laughed quietly at the sight. She stood back and let them wear themselves out. They were all gathered near the newly opened share-house, the old one so successful that Feyre had decided to bring in children from other camps as well. They all loved her mother, and it also meant that the two best-friends in front of her had an endless audience for their games. It was also an excellent excuse for Felix to procrastinate, which he was obviously doing now. Eleana knew he was meant to be in Velaris with Az tonight so they could go over some new findings concerning the creatures, but instead Felix was here. Whether it was because he didn’t want to leave camp and go to Velaris, or it was because he wanted to avoid Azriel, Eleana didn’t know. All she did know what that he was here, and – as much as she loved him – he better not interfere with her night.

When Felix’s boy had knocked Kaden’s off his shoulders, the match was deemed over. Many children yelled that they wanted it to be their turn next, but Felix smiled politely and gently let them down with a goodbye and promise that he would see them the next day.

Eleana approached them and clapped, praising their performance. “Well done, Felix!” she called jokingly.

“Why thank you, Heir. I have finally vanquished my greatest enemy, Sir Pines-A-Lot.”

“Sod off.” Kaden made a rather inappropriate gesture considering there were children watching. He came to her and whispered, “I pine for no-one, Lady Eleana. No-one but you.”

She leaned forward to kiss him, but he dodged her, pretending to be distracted by a sea of children making the same hand motion he had at Felix.

“You’ve created an army of monsters,” she told him.

“They were bound to find out about the different range of hand motions eventually.” He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “If you have some spare time, there’s a few things with my hands that I’d like to show you.”

It baffled her how he could go between evading her kisses to making innuendos in such a short amount of time. She loved that about him. Mainly because his words made her insides warm with want.  

“That could be arranged.” She smirked at him. “I have a proposition for you.”

“And what might that be?”

“I have the house to myself for the next three days. Come spend time with me.” She wanted nothing more than to pull him to her, but she restrained herself. “We can wake up with each other.” If they were alone she would have run her hands down his chest while he played with her hair.

“After tonight I’m all yours.” He brushed his thumb on her cheek and turned to help Felix herd the children back into the house where they could be watched by other adults.

“After tonight?” She followed him and helped guide the children to their usual keepers. Around this time they usually had a group history lesson, or some other sort of group tutoring.

“I’m having dinner with Azriel and Morrigan. You are more than free to come, but I didn’t think you would enjoy it.”

He knew her well. Eleana still hadn’t reconciled with Azriel, and it was the longest she’d ever gone without speaking to her uncle. She was less angry now then she was before, mostly thanks to Kaden hearing her rant for hours on end.

She should get a hold of that boy she’d hired, there was no point setting up her plans for tonight if Kaden wasn’t going to be there. “Okay.” She nodded at him and turned to walk away. Sometimes she annoyed herself. Here she was, feeling dejected when she had no right to be because she couldn’t have the night she wanted when she didn’t even make sure that Kaden could’ve come in the first place.

“Where’s the High Lady?” He grabbed her hand and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it.

“She’s gone to spend some time with my father. They used to do this every month before the Colloden attack, and we’ve finally gotten to a place where we think it’ll be okay if I’m on my own.” She smiled sadly, and stared away from him. “Will you come by? I can give you a tour of my house, practically everyone has lived there. My father did with Cassian and Azriel when they were my age, and it was where Felix lived before he got his own place. My future cousins or siblings will probably live there, and it’s my second home. I would like to share it with you.”

Kaden glanced around, and seeing that there was no-one in the vicinity, took her into his arms. “I’ll leave Velaris around nine, and I’ll eat lightly so I can have dinner with you.” He rested his forehead on hers. “And tonight, we’ll fall asleep and I’ll be there when you wake up.”

“That sounds nice,” she whispered.

“What will you do in the meantime? You know if Mor and Azriel hadn’t summoned me I would be with you in a heartbeat.”

“Summoned?” It was an unusual word choice.

“They have news on my mother.”

Eleana was astonished. In the weeks since Elain had uttered the name Denora Ana in one of her seer rambles, barely anything had come of it. Kaden and Azriel had tried their hardest to take the lead somewhere, but it was fruitless. None of Azriel’s spies, even the oldest ones, had ever heard the name uttered. His research in other courts had also turned up empty handed. Kaden had started to give up hope, his only solace coming from the diary Mor had managed to find. Eleana had scarcely seen it since the first night she’d read it, but when she had more recently, Kaden had tabbed his favourite pages, restored it as much as he could, and taken care of it as though it was the most precious thing in the world.

“Kaden.” She was so glad to hear there might finally be some news.

“I’m trying not to become too hopeful.” The smile on his face told a whole other story.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Go now, and then come home to me.”

He chuckled lightly. “I’ll always come home to you.”

____

Kaden could still feel the remnants of Eleana’s kiss goodbye on his lips as he walked the familiar path to Azriel and Mor’s home. He came by often, but only today were his nerves puncturing him like tiny needles straight to his stomach. Cauldron bless him, he just wanted any information on where he came from, anything at all. It was clear now that his mother hadn’t been a local in Hewn City, and if he could just get a Court he was from, somewhere he might have more family, it was would be phenomenal.

He walked into the house and steered straight for the kitchen. Azriel was there cooking away, so he said hello as he sat atop the bench Az wasn’t using, pinching an apple to munch on.

“How are you?” Azriel asked as he stirred a pot of stew.

“Well. About tonight though, I know I was going to stay over but I have to go back to camp not long after nightfall. I might have entrée here and then head off. Is that alright?” Kaden didn’t want to put Azriel out, particularly since from the looks of it he had prepared a multiple course meal, but either way he would go to Eleana tonight.

“Mor will be disappointed, she misses you when you aren’t here. Is there a chance you could stay? If you have duty I can find a replacement,” Azriel offered.

“It’s not that. The High Lady has left for a few days, and Eleana wants me to come over for the night. She claims it’s so we can have a romantic evening, which I think is true, but I think she also doesn’t want to admit she doesn’t want to be alone while she’s still having dreams.”

Azriel stopped what he was doing to fully face Kaden. “Do you think you could handle her at night if something goes wrong?”

By something going wrong, Azriel meant Eleana’s night terrors being so bad she accidently hurts herself or someone else. That included spontaneous winnowing, screaming, crying, scratching, kicking, and a large number of other things she does when in that state. Of late, Eleana’s dreams, while still haunting her, no longer caused the destruction they did right after she was attacked. She seemed calmer, especially since she had been with Kaden, but he did not attribute her ascending health to himself. That all came from her own strength.

“I do,” he asserted.

“If something happens that you can’t control you have to summon me, okay? I’m not taking no for an answer. Even if you just suspect something might go badly you must call for Mor and I.”

“Oh shush.” Mor gallivanted into the room with a basket full of clean and folded laundry. She set it down on the table and greeted Kaden with a tight hug. She let him go and stepped back, but not before squeezing his cheeks. “The only protection Eleana needs is the tonic I brought for you both to use.”

Kaden’s face blazed with embarrassment. In a drawer of his bed, Mor had provided many different forms of protection for when he and Eleana were intimate. Morrigan had done this before the two were even together, and it mortified him that even then his feelings for Eleana were so obvious.

“And I suspect,” Mor continued, “that Eleana won’t be having many nightmares tonight, as to do that you’ll need to sleep. Something they’ll likely not get.”

Kaden groaned in humiliation.

“I’m not saying this to make you uncomfortable poppet, I’m being realistic. Safe sex is the best sex.”

“Stop Mor, I think he’s suffocating from embarrassment.” Azriel smirked.

“Can we please move on?” Kaden choked.

“Well, since you’re insisting on not staying, we may as well talk about your mother now.” Mor beckoned for him to come sit on the couch. They both did, Azriel turning off all the stoves so the food didn’t burn before joining them. Azriel and Mor sat at one side, holding each other’s hands, while Kaden sat on the other facing them.

Longing was evident on Kaden’s face as he looked at them, an expression that wasn’t shared.

“We haven’t found anything, son. We don’t want you to stop thinking of her, but we also don’t want you to linger on this when we might not ever find anything else.”

Kaden sat back at the blow from Azriel’s words. “N-nothing?” he stuttered.

“We’ll still try as much as we can!” Mor assured him. “We both have some more time now than before to look. Our days are free other than our obligations to Velaris, and we’ll spend as much time on this as you want us to.”

Kaden slumped. How much more could he ask from them? They had already spent countless time in this futile effort. “I… no. You should stop looking.”

“That’s not what we meant-”

“I know,” Kaden interrupted Mor. “It’s time that I do the work. I’ve been letting you take control, wasting your time on me, when this is something that I should be doing myself.”

“Kaden, you are not wasting our time.” Mor stood up and gripped Kaden’s chin to make him look her in the eyes. “I will gladly do this for you. I would gladly do anything. We,” she pointed at her and Azriel, “are your family. Do you understand? I know I can never fill the hole in you your mother’s absence has left, but Kaden I want to. I love you like you are my own, and I will protect you at any costs.”

It was a feeling Kaden had suspected Morrigan felt, but it was still strange to hear her say the words. But it felt wrong to him; he did not deserve her dedication.

“I spent so many years hating her for abandoning me – for not wanting me,” he confessed to them. “I don’t know how to react to your… profession, but I do know it’s time for me to take control of my past. I will forever be grateful and indebted to you both for all you have done for me, but you have other things to focus on now. You have a new niece to spoil, and I am certain that Felix and Eleana’s anger will not last much longer. And I know… I’ve heard the whisperings about me, that people don’t understand why I can’t comprehend or guess certain emotions in different situations.”

“I think you’re perfect,” Mor argued. Kaden moved her hand away from his face and instead clutched it in his.

“It’s true,” Kaden readily admitted. “I never saw those things as a child, so I sometimes don’t know how to interpret them. I acknowledge that, and I’m working on it. And I’ve started noticing things. I know when Felix likes someone even if he doesn’t tell me, I know Quathryn likes the harp the very best because of the way she dances to it, I know Eleana’s favourite scents just from the way she wiggles her nose, and I know now that you love me like a son. I can also see that you two – that you’re trying to have a baby.” the last word came out strangled, not because he wasn’t happy but because he was so overjoyed at the prospect. “Focus on yourselves for a while, and I’ll work on finding my mother. As Lord, my father should be at the Bloodrite, and I’ll confront him then. I’ll order him to tell me more, and if that doesn’t work I’ll get Eleana to order him. By now I know he fears her.” Kaden chuckled lightly and gripped Mor’s hands tighter. “Between a potential child and the enquiry into the creatures Felix, Eleana and I found, you have a lot on your plate.”

“I love you, poppet.” Mor hugged him tightly, and Kaden heard her sniffle as she tried not to cry. “Don’t worry about having dinner here, just go to Eleana.” She pulled away and Azriel moved to stand next to her.

“There’s just one more thing you should know though,” he said. “The reason we have more time free now is because Rhys had ordered we stop looking into the creatures you found.”

_____

 Kaden was reeling as he made his way to Eleana’s home. It made sense, there were more logical reasons the High Lord felt explained the happenings around Prythian, and as it turned out none of the evidence they had gathered wasn’t plausible enough – for the main part because none of it could be verified. No wards were broken, no bodies were found, and what dumbfounded him the most: no evidence of anyone being Under the Mountain since it was originally sealed was apparent. The High Lord went himself, and the things that had chased Eleana that day were nowhere to be seen.

By now dusk had fallen, leaving a purple and red hue to cover the camp. Tired Illyrians made their way home to their families, Kaden waved to Felix as he passed him on his way to duty, and shopkeepers closed their stores for the night.

As Kaden stood in front of Eleana’s front window though, any thoughts he had left him.

He had gotten there an hour before planned, and he got to watch her set up dinner. There was a red tablecloth spread under an abundance of meat and vegetable platters, dips set up on the sides with different cheeses, crackers and breads accompanying them, all lit by candles on intricate golden candlesticks. He watched her as she rearranged bouquets of flowers and spread rose petals on the ground and around the table, all the time jittering from excitement. It was nice to watch her, to see her be so excited for him.

Cauldron, to the stars and beyond into the infinite night, he loved this woman.

He knocked on the door, feeling excited himself to finally see the inside of her home.

He heard a loud rustling inside and swearing, and Eleana talked to him without opening the door.

“You’re early.” She said through the wood.

“Indeed.”

“I’m going to let you in, but you have to close your eyes. I’m not dressed yet.”

Kaden snorted but conceited, assuring her that his eyes were closed. He heard the door open, and she gently seized his hand, leading him. She sat him down on a chair and peppered a kiss to both his eyelids before running away, her exuberant footsteps pounding up the stairs. He happily waited until he heard her come back, only opening her eyes once she gave him the go ahead.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her hair was out, now grown long enough to cover her breasts. She was wearing a tight, black lace top. It was long sleeved and high necked, the lace intricate enough to cover her but still scandalous in its own right. She had on a red satin skirt that fell to the floor, and was barefoot. The loveliest thing though was the soft smile on her face.

Kaden stood up and in front of her, lifting her chin with a single finger. “You are…” he trailed off, not being able to put into coherent words the way she made him feel.

“I know,” she whispered before standing on the tips of her toes so she could kiss him. The kiss was as soft as her smile, gentle like the lull of waves in the spring, and Cauldron how did Kaden get this lucky?

“I hope you’re still hungry,” Eleana pulled back and said.

“I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Good.” Her breath was shaky and with her hands in his she led him to sit at the head of the table. “I must confess I didn’t cook any of this myself. With Felix around, I never really learnt, he always did it for me.”

“I can understand why that might happen. Luckily for you, I am quite a good cook. I’m no Felix but who is?” He pulled her into his lap as he sat, her legs on either side of his and her body leaning into him.

“When did you know that you loved me for sure?”

Kaden was taken aback by the sudden question, but he was happy to answer. “The first time I thought about it was the night of Talysa’s wedding. I thought you were going to leave, and I just scrambled to think of anything I could do that might make you stay. I’d had feelings for you though since the moment we met. Sometimes I imagine what would’ve happened if Felix hadn’t interrupted us.” Kaden laughed. “Oh Mother, I would’ve been relentless in my pursuit of you. I had never been so taken with a woman before, and all I had to do was look at you! And then the bonfire, the bonfire.” Kaden gripped her waist tightly. “Thank the Mother for Pepper Whiskey otherwise I never would’ve had the audacity to treat you the way I had. You were such a terrible dancer.”

She hit him jokingly on the chest. “Rude.”

“And that was the night we got our crowns.” He pointed out. “What about you?”

“I knew for sure the night of Starfall. If the Colloden hadn’t interrupted I would have been very content to just take you there on the cliff. I was pondering it later though, after I had fled, and I knew for sure. Although admittedly my feelings towards you had never been platonic. Kaden, there was never anything about you that I didn’t love wholly. Not a single aspect I would change, not a single hair I would alter. I know you still have your doubts about us.” He tried to argue but she shushed him. “And I need you to know that I love you. Every single little part.”

A gust of wind of Eleana’s making blew around the room, vanquishing the flames that lit the room. Kaden peered over her shoulder, and the flowers and platter covering the table were gone, winnowed away by Eleana. He could feel that she wanted no distraction, just wanted it to be her and him.

Eleana kissed him then, deeper and more sensually then the previous times that day. She ground her hips down on him and tangled her hands in his hair. He gasped as she moved her mouth to his neck, sucking and biting at the sweet spots she knew were his most sensitive.

“I have – I have things I have to tell you,” he sputtered.

“Hm?” She continued roaming his skin, pulling down the collar of his shirt so that she could lick and kiss at his collar bones.

“It’s the creatures.” He hoped his words came out properly, with her mouth working him so well it wouldn’t surprise him if the only noises he could make from here on out were incomprehensible moans.

“It can wait until tomorrow – let us have this night.”

He groaned loudly at her words and stood up, hitching her legs around his waist to carry her. He didn’t go far, just rested her behind on the table as he pulled up her skirt. His fingers grazed to her core, and he was satisfied with the wetness he found. “You aren’t wearing any underwear,” he revelled.

“I never do around you.” She smirked and rolled her skirt further up so she was fully exposed to him.

With no grandeur, he jerked his pants down and sheathed himself in her. There were times to take it slow, to make her melt as slowly as ice in autumn, now was not one of those times. For every time he took her slowly, there was a time where she wanted him hard and fast. She laid back on the table and spread her arms out, gasping at the glorious feeling of him being inside her. As he thrusted she breathed his name, her body shaking as he also reached down to massage her sensitive core. His movements became slower as he felt himself coming to a finish, but he held off until he knew that she was coming too. He liked it best like that, when they climaxed simultaneously.

With a gasp of his name and a flutter of her eyelids, she came around him, the final straw in pulling himself over the edge too.

“My bedroom,” she breathed. “Now.” She hopped off the table and held out her hand.

She calmly let him up the stairs and into her room. It reflected well who she was. There was a bookcase with novels carefully arranged on one wall, opposite the room that must have either led to an ensuite or a wardrobe. She had a double bed in a space clearly intended for a single, and hanging above it was a wooden wind chime.

“I’ve never had a boy in my room before.”

“I’m honoured.”

Kaden spent the rest of his night showing her how truly honoured he was, not wasting a single moment on doubt or problems that couldn’t be solved now.

_____

Feyre huffed as she and Rhys prepared to go to dinner, her mate staring at her with amusement.

“Just say it,” he drawled.

“I swear I’m happy to be here.”

“Feyre, I know your thoughts.”

She threw up her arms with a cry. “It’s like when she was a baby. I’m so anxious that I’m not with her and that I don’t know exactly what she’s doing. And don’t you dare use that sass on me, I know you’re feeling the same way.” She started pacing with frustration. This whole situation was just like when Eleana was a baby. The first time Eleana and Rhys tried to leave her overnight they thought it would be easy. It was only a few hours into their night out that they both crawled back to Azriel and Mor’s to claim their daughter and whisk her home. They had spent the rest of that night awake with her, Rhys holding her while they watched Eleana sleep.

Rhys opened his arms and Feyre gladly walked into them, resting her head on his strong chest. “Go back to camp, Feyre Darling. We’ll do this another time.”

“Come with me?”

He shook his head. “You know I want to, but there’s just so much to do. I’d rather come during the day so I can spend time with you both. I miss you more than anything. I’d give everything I have if it meant you were both back in Velaris.” His voice started strongly, but it finished barely above a whisper as he thought about how much he hated them being apart.

“I know she wants to stay there, but maybe there’s something we could do to convince her to come home,” Feyre said wistfully.

“Go back to her Feyre, and I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

He pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, and she longed for him and their family to be together. “Keep your thoughts open, I want it to be like I’m still with you.”

“Always.” He kissed her again, and told her to go. He would pack their things and tell the staff of their departure.

Feyre kissed Rhys once more, already dreading the thought of not being with him. She knew deep in her bones that raising Eleana the way they did was the right thing to do. She needed to be in touch with her Illyrian heritage as much as she did with her fae side, but sometimes the pain Feyre felt being away from Rhys was immeasurable. With a sigh, she winnowed straight into her home, the house that had raised the Illyrian side of her family for hundreds of years.

It was dark, and Feyre took of her coat, boots and gloves before meandering to the stairs. Feyre had expected her daughter to be eating dinner or sneaking a tub of ice-cream for dessert by this time, but Eleana must have already retired to her room. Feyre wanted to check on her, and to make sure she had eaten before Feyre scrounged something up for herself.

She didn’t bother knocking on the door, if her daughter was here she’d be busy reading, and if she wasn’t Feyre would go to her nephew’s home where she undoubtedly would be.

Feyre burst in, and then raced out, slamming the door behind her.

Eleana had certainly not been reading.

No.

Rather all Feyre could see what the exposed back and wings of a male that was undeniably having sex with her seventeen-year-old.

Feyre stood flabbergasted behind the door, opening and closing her mouth like a suffocating fish. All rational inclination escaped her. There were no thoughts of her daughter being mature enough to make this decision, no acknowledgement that as a grown woman she was free to do whatever she pleased with her body.

No.

To her daughter, she not-so-calmly said, “BECOME DECENT THIS MINUTE AND COME TALK TO ME RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY OR CAULDRON DAMNED YOU WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES.”

[jaspervgiz379]

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Red Streak [5.1]

Chapter 05: Surefire [Part 1 of 4. Revised August 2017]

Read the complete fic on AO3

Jane Kithoi Ward, Citadel Summer Shitstorm ’77

Less than a week had passed since that joke of an award ceremony at Alliance HQ, but according to Shepard's gut-tight internal clock, linear time was a bygone irrelevancy. Whenever the words Star of Terra entered her mind, several millennia would blur past all at once, reducing her memory to static. 

Five days previously at a hasty press conference on Arcturus Station, a visibly uncomfortable Amul Shastri had pinned the Alliance’s most prestigious military decoration onto a woman raised by an extraterrestrial war criminal. Just like that, at the pleasure of two-dozen swarming tabloid reporters, Second Lieutenant Jane Shepard's comfortable anonymity had been shot straight to hell.

After a funerary receiving line of stiff, bruising handshakes, Shepard had been evacuated to the relative neutrality of the Citadel by her oldest mentor and only remaining friend in the Alliance: Captain David Anderson. Hidden away in the Captain’s private apartment, she was to spend an entire month’s mandatory leave keeping her head down, goddammit. Anderson had immediately returned to Arcturus HQ, where he was currently going far beyond the call of duty on Shepard’s behalf, kissing enough asses and pulling enough strings to prove that the Lieutenant was not - and never had been - acting on behalf of alien interests.

Now at the bleeding end of her first night of compulsory leave, Shepard was already blind drunk. Hazy and lethargic amid the neon-painted shadows of Anderson’s glamorous abandoned apartment, she drifted with smoke-gray apathy, finally crashing knee first into a desk. With the yelp of a woman shot, she succumbed to her wounds and fell on the spot, taking the Captain’s personal console down with her. After it landed dangerously close to Shepard's head, the console flickered weakly and then went dark. Another man down. 

Best to stay right here, she thought. Best to die honorably beside a fallen comrade, a pitiful chance to absolve herself of Torfan.

Thus relieved, Shepard spent her first night on the Silversun Strip sleeping face down on a polished cement floor. It was the best night of sleep she'd had in months.

The next morning, after she’d vomited enough alcohol out of her blood to see straight, Shepard did what she could to straighten up the mess she'd made. Luckily, Anderson’s console had survived the fall unharmed. Less luckily, when she managed to boot the system again, it was only to receive a patronizing lecture.

Hey Kid,

Don’t slack off. I can squeak you into ICT, but after that, it's up to you. Do whatever you want at night, just don’t break my furniture. During the day, your ass already belongs to those instructors in Rio de Janeiro. Use this time to prepare. Proving your worth at Vila Militar is going to hurt like nothing else [...]

The message continued, in no uncertain terms, to spell out exactly how much pain she was promised. Doom and gloom included, it was still good news. If she spent a month quietly avoiding any further media spectacle and forcing herself into the best shape of her life, Shepard might be allowed to exchange the very last shreds of her military reputation for the opportunity to be eaten alive at Vila Militar. All she could do now was ready herself for digestion.

Every day cycle, she ground away dutifully, slowly but surely losing herself in a numbing cycle of PT. Hours spent running on Anderson's treadmill were matched by repetitive weight circuits in his cold, echoing living room. To keep herself sane in the middle of the third… fourth… fifth round of burning reps, she surfed through alien television and tried to avoid catching sight of her own face.

The turians obstinately refused to talk about it. Hierarchy-affiliated channels aired nothing more titillating than the occasional bottom-line crawl: human sources claim excommunicated traitor Albacus Regidonis lived among their own and attempted to raise a human child before dying in exile.

Occasionally a turian military analyst would drop Shepard's name along with a grudging acknowledgment of the Star of Terra, but for the most part, Shepard endured little more than endless, droning isolation. Watching TV and lifting weights, she gained five pounds of muscle and learned more than she ever cared to know about Palaven's water crisis.

She lasted half a month cooped up in solitary confinement before she cracked.

She started small, sneaking out to a declining aquatic recreation center a few blocks from Anderson's. The place was well-maintained but otherwise unfashionable, patronized by rheumy-eyed salarians and one or two ancient, wrinkled hanar. Given a wide berth in this mostly-empty pool, Shepard brought a pair of combat fins and swam daily, going as long as she could take it. Back and forth, back and forth, until her ankles threatened to crack.

Just as the retirement home was losing its appeal, the keepers went belly-up and all hell broke loose in Kithoi. Overnight, the ambient temperature rose by twenty degrees, and by the end of the next day cycle, every pool complex on the ward was packed to capacity, including the unfashionable ones.

To keep off the radar, Shepard drifted ten blocks further from Anderson's apartment. There she found a hole-in-the-wall volus arcade that offered zero-g free-fall and untethered target practice. Good exercise with no background checks and minimal safety restrictions. Fun, for a minute or two. But it wasn't long before the constant drug hand-offs in the lobby started to get on Shepard's nerves. Time to move on.

Her last week brought her as far afield as she dared. Armax Arena was thick with trigger-happy turians and not a few Alliance meatheads. All of them, including her, were looking for a fight. She kept her helmet on and spoke to no one, but the first time she got a funny look, her stomach lining curdled.

Fresh meat, that glance had said. Nothing more.

She chose Eska as her pseudonym on the public scoreboards, and remained undiscovered. Gradually, so as not to draw attention, she blasted through enough combat sims to earn two honorable mentions on the board - and brought home nearly five thousand credits.

Three days away from Vila Militar, Shepard won her first major score at the Arena. No use bragging about it. As usual, she collected her winnings in silence, then rushed into her favorite low-traffic alleyway, the only place she might remove her armor unobserved.

She had just finished clumsily shoving her practice armor into a duffle bag when she saw him.

Standing in the middle of her getaway route was one of the Arena’s regular spectators, a retired turian general named Oraka. Something of an eccentric local celebrity, he was in the habit of shaking hands with promising newbies and doling out bits of archaic battle strategy to anyone who would stand still long enough to listen. Always courteous, even to humans, but always a little bit drunk.

Today, he was sober.

“Excellent shooting,” he called, clear-eyed and deliberate. He stepped closer, keeping his empty hands raised, turning his neck just enough to show he was no threat. “Very sharp with a rifle, aren't you? But the pistol... that's where you truly shine.”

"What do you want?"

Slowly, his eyes drifted to her clenched fingers, to the red lacquer on her thumb, obvious as a bullseye. Staring at her, he adopted a look of baffled recognition and opened his mouth to speak. Several times he tried and failed, biting back every comment but the last.

"There are few things I love more than being right," he choked.

She stood her ground, but felt her hand trembling on strap of her duffle.

Using a thin, tremulous sub-vocal that held more meaning than she could parse, he softly added, “I always told Alba he would make a fine patrem.”

That night, on the arm of a general, Jane Shepard visited her first turian dive bar.

Considering her chaperone, the choice of ambience was pleasantly unpretentious. The general himself made for thrilling company for the first half hour, answering every question Shepard asked. But before long he grew maudlin and weepy - and very, very drunk.

The next night she returned to the bar, alone. Despite being the lone human in a heavily populated dextro dive, Shepard was permitted to sit at a small grungy table and drink herself numb, completely unmolested. The turian patrons were preoccupied with rubbing up on each other; they had little interest in a rubbernecking culture tourist. Aside from a few bored once-overs, she was invisible.

Finally, her last night arrived, sudden and rude. The slim, waning hours of precious anonymity before Camp Militar came for her blood. After tonight, it was perfection or death.

Knowing that, Shepard bought a short, cheap skirt and returned to the bar.

As before, nearly all of the locals ignored her. The only trouble came in the form of a persistent, flirtatious drug runner who kept insisting that a monkey in a skirt was adorable, and that everything would look a lot brighter if you took one of these and danced with me, mellia.

Three hours later, everything was tangled up in blue.

[undercovermcdfan]

the calm before the storm | prologue 2

title: Vylad: 1:38 pm, Saturday

chapter summary: Vylad isn’t a fan of the waiting game.

a/n: it’s our trusty man of the hour, Vylad. Love this boy to pieces. Thankfully he won’t become pieces because he’s essential to the plot. *Finger guns* you might read some hints who might be showing up in the main series /eye emojis just a heads up. Also, this chapter took me five times to rewrite ;;

warning(s): mild violence, zombies, established relationships, mutual pining, character building

prologue: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

main series: —-

check it out on ao3

“Don’t worry. I’ll be out in a sec,” Laurance’s voice came, light and affectionate—strained as well, with the laughter of children in the background. “Make yourself comfortable. Sasha is working as receptionist today. Chat with her.”

Vylad sighed, throwing a side way glance at Sasha; the fair-haired receptionist gave sugary sweet fake smile with a wave of her impossibly long nails. “…Please hurry.”

Laurance laughed. “I love you too.”

Ending the call, his eyes connected with Sasha again. She dropped the smile, opting to obnoxiously pop her chewing gum his direction and sat forward. Her chin, propped by her hand, and cat-like amusement played as she narrowed her eyes.

“So… Scarf boy. Almost an hour and a half late to your date, huh,” Sasha called out to him, brow raised and judgement clear.

It wasn’t him to really butt heads with people; in life, those who were a pain, he simply left behind and carried on his way. Except, he couldn’t do much leaving behind and carrying on as he liked. Life tied down by a relationship warranted, at times, to be anchored by a person he much rather not see again—and though this was the first partnership he had where the seriousness they felt for each other didn’t allow for such easy deal breakers, Vylad could feel the bitterness sweep the moment Sasha was reminded as a force that existed and no way leaving his immediate circle he knew now as Laurance’s friends.

She’s like a sister to me, Laurance would say, waving off her biting statement with a laugh, she isn’t a peach but she’s reliable and smarter than she likes to lead on. Family, Sasha was—and with the weeks turned into months turned into moving in status, Vylad had to acknowledge she wasn’t going anywhere for a very long time.

He wasn’t honeyed delight himself, mind you, but Sasha’s unmoved personality and sharpen tongue left him eyeing the woman carefully in distaste. She wasn’t loud, but her statements always left a blow if you thought too personally about her opinions. Pushy, forward, and the worse of all, vindictive when she truly in the mood.

Like the boredom she was having at this moment.

Looking back, it’s bizarre to think how far they came but standing stagnant in their dynamic—and Travis always put it, yet containing this cat-and-mouse dynamic, stabilized normal after the end of the world was upon them. No, he wouldn’t say he hated her—too strong of a word, but a step down or two from that would summarize what he felt.

She smiled with her eyes, harpy as she was, wouldn’t let him back. “Are you gonna explain why? Or do I have to assume why?”

“Traffic. West side, near Meteli road—it’s blocked,” Vylad explained, “All that time you spend looking at your phone or other people’s business, I’d figured you would be on top of the news.”

She fell silent for a moment—but not long, certainly not long enough for Vylad to savor this small bit of peace. Her smile was wiry but the flash of anger was clear in her eyes; she didn’t enjoy people biting back, especially at her. “I don’t know why I expect you to say something, anything interesting and yet…” she sighed, shrugging her shoulders, “Laurance has to see something in you.”

And that was the end of the conversation.

He shot her an irate glare but decided not to ruin his already soured mood and opt to walk away to the seating area. If she been anybody else, he might’ve vented on his hour of being trapped in traffic. After all, today seemed to be a swarm of random riots—a peaceful march turned bloody, police handling it poorly and emotions running high with epidemic this, government conspiracies there. All he wanted was a nice meal from whatever ethnic culinarily exploration Laurance planned, taking advantage of the rec center’s vacancy today, and the two talking about their soon move-in to the new apartment, theorizing what Cadenza’s ‘shocking’ surprise was and convincing Laurance his cat wasn’t that bad. Well, maybe his cat was spawn of something of unholy but look past the claws and attitude, only love (and a hunger for quality food) held in the feline’s heart.

Approaching the seating area, he took opposite side from the people already hanging around. A couple sat in the normal seating, chatting amicably with a tall man who looked vaguely familiar.

Actually…

He recognized the woman within the trio, with her petite frame as she rested a hand on her slightly rounded belly and glowing expression framed by shorter, curly black hair—she was Aphmau. Laurance’s old college friend Aphmau to be exact. He knew of her, both from the framed pictures Laurance had in his apartment that featured his old friend group and Laurance’s gossipy can-you-believes that Vylad amusedly took note of. “She moved into the neighborhood recently” something something “Gotten pregnant, moved in with her long-term boyfriend” something something “Became one of those ‘end of the world’ is near nuts.”

Though glancing at her, she seemed not really like the doomsayers variety like seen on TV, who bought those obvious cash grabs preventive medication to defend against this so-called epidemic and cashing in ‘haven homes’ to the north.

Leaning into who Vylad assumed was her boyfriend (who had nothing really to note apart from he was… wearing sun glasses indoors), smiling brightly at the familiar white-haired man, she was excitable as she spoke but then again, wasn’t that with most conspiracies believers. Not looking the part until the topic was broached.

Truth be told, he understood bit of the anxiety people held; despite the entire parade their government kept up, you had to either be blind or chugging down the skepticism to not believe there was… something unsettling about this new pandemic sweeping across developing countries and edging their way into more industrially advanced nations. Zombies was a hot topic, people sharing shaky cams and leaking classified reports—and even if Laurance waved this off, saying if it was really that bad, the world would’ve been ravaged a year ago when the reports started coming in.

Did he agree with his boyfriend’s rebuffing the idea that the internet conspiracy junkies were right? No, not really.

But did he really buy it was as bad as said junkies were making it out to be? No, as well.

Vylad did suggest that maybe he and Laurance could spend part of the summer getting out of the city—to where, he hadn’t ironed out the details, but between the traffic-causing riots, the heightened state of stress and… nosy people being way too comfortable with barging in on their free time, frankly, anywhere was better than here.

But, looking in hindsight, he sometimes wished he thought more seriously about it. About convincing Laurance that what was happening—maybe they shouldn’t carry on their day and pay attention. Or maybe he wished he been thirty minutes, an hour, on time like he promised.

Anything to prevent the rude awakening of what happened next.

Zenix rushing in, telling Sasha to dial for the police and an ambulance, a dark stain on his gold jersey and jeans, and a bloody bat.

Aphmau’s boyfriend already on his feet and the other two, as well as himself, already on his feet.

“Vylad,” Zenix spotted him, but no arrogant smile or even a grimace—just an apprehensiveness expressed in his wide eyes, “I—“

“Is that blood? Where’s Laurance?” Vylad quickly made his way over, “Are you okay?”

“…well,” he gripped his bat, for a moment looking ashamed, “I don’t… I mean.” He heaved a sigh, nodded towards the hall that lead to the gymnasium, “He’s with the kids. I… I think you go—help him. He’s trying to hold it together but…”

Vylad hesitated, seeing the rattled state of Zenix—while not much younger than himself, still seen fondly as the ‘kid’ of their group; this was an unusual sight of Zenix’s more subdued state left knot twisted up in his stomach—squeezing his shoulder, he left in the direction of the gymnasium. Behind him, he could hear a deep voice grunt, “Travis go.” and, who assumed was Travis, sputtering but meekly agreed.

Vylad glanced back, sighing but he supposed if something happened, help was appreciated.

.

.

He wasn’t sure what he was prepared for, but it wasn’t for this.

Pushing open the heavy gym door, he’s hit with something rancid and awful—was something rotting.

Then he saw the body.

A rotund man, face down; he was barely clothed with torn up, dirty white wife-beater and underpants, skin dull and a paper cutter imbedded in his neck. His head, busted up and where the pool of oozing, brown liquid too dark and unhuman to be called blood.

Unmoving.

Vylad felt bile raise—and behind him, the man who followed him named Travis made a retching sound.

His eyes darted around. Whimpering, he heard whimpering—and guessing from where the footprints lead, one which went towards the locker room while the other went out the doors, he started to approach the locker room off to his left. Vylad glanced back for a moment towards Travis, who looked an image of panic and a second away from succumbing to sickness. “Hey…” Travis said, softly, as he hung back a couple steps behind, “U-Uh, Vylad was it?”

He nodded, reaching for the door—Travis grabbed at his shoulder, holding up a hand.

“Do you think this is a good idea?”

His brow furrowed, squinting.

“I mean—you… uh… you know what that body is, right? There’s a dead person just,” Travis heaved a sighed, quickly taking back his hand as Vylad’s squint turned into a glare, “We should call out first. Just in case.”

“…” he turned to the door, banging his fist against, as he called out: “Laurance? Are you in there? It’s me,” he twisted the door knob, “I’m opening the door.”

He felt breathe seized; like Zenix, Laurance was drenched in the dark blood. A child softly cried, as Laurance gingerly had his hand pressed against the child’s arm with a small towel. The other children huddled by the door, one clutching a bat—a little boy, with curly, mousy brown hair and looked a little too young to be here alone. Beside him, a tanned boy with curly brown who looked older and had a hand on his shoulder—there was two more beside him, a girl with dirty blond hair pulled into a pony tail, a small boy with light blond hair and blue eyes that vaguely reminded Vylad of his older brother, and lastly another boy who leaned on the heavy-set side, who stepped in front of the blond boy and girl.

Laurance gave him a single nod, a pensive expression on his face. Sandwiched between his shoulder and ear, the phone was there, and a female voice squeaked on the other side.

“Yes, I’m still here—uh, I’ll try contacting the child’s guardians, again,” Laurance said, his voice even tone and professional. The voice squeaked again. “I know. I was told that both were at home, Dale, their father, was taking care of his wife, Molly?” The voice gave a questioning tone. “Fever? They said she couldn’t even get out of bed. A bad cut—“

The heavy set boy spoke up, “A bite. A crazy man bit her last night.”

“Uh, correction. A bite.”

There’s a pause. Then the voice asked another question.

“Since eleven?” Laurance furrowed his brows, glancing at Vylad who stepped closer. Vylad whispered to Laurance a “I got this”, pressing his hand onto the wound, allowing Laurance to focus on the phone call.

“…I… I don’t have an address—hey, are you sending an ambulance or not?” Laurance said hotly, pacing away as he disappeared into an office.

Vylad took a chance to studied the kid—brown hair as well, though his dark eyes were unfocused and his face shined under the lighting. Vylad frowned, pitying the young boy—he barely looked older than twelve, yet… not much fear or worry shown on his face. If anything, he looked drained. “Hello,” Vylad quietly began, noting in the background he could hear Laurance rummaging around for something in the office while Travis took up conversing with the children by the wall, “Could I get a name? I’m Vylad, Laurance’s… partner.”

The child flashed him a confused look. But didn’t question him, instead opting to answer, “Brian. And I know you—you’re the guy on Mister Zvahl’s phone, right?”

Vylad smiled a little at that, nodding.

“Huh,” Brian gave him a look over, twisting his mouth. “You’re short.”

Vylad shrugged. “It runs in my family. My brothers were lucky, but… somebody had to miss out,” he glanced over his shoulder, “So… I’m guessing that’s your brothers and sister?”

Brian nodded. “Alexis is my sister… Kyle, Levin and Malachi, um, are kinda?” He shrugged, “They live with us and it’s pretty nice. Malachi is five, so is Levin.”

“And Kyle?”

“Six. He’s older than Alexis by a month,” Brian gave a soft smile, glancing at his hand wrapped in a towel. “He’s bit of a knucklehead but really cool.”

Vylad hummed. He was about to ask another question when Travis walked up to him, tapping his shoulder.

“Dude,” he said. “Do you think I could borrow your phone? I need to call… a friend.”

Vylad shot him a look. But the desperation was clear, so Vylad sighed, nodding to his hoodie’s pocket.

Travis stepped a little bit away, giving himself privacy as he said in a soft voice, “Pick up Katie… pick up…”

“Vylad?” Brian asked in a low voice, hesitating before staring directly in his eyes, “I have a question.”

Vylad hummed in acknowledge, giving the small boy a smile.

“I starting to feel… sick. Um,” Brian glanced at his wound worriedly, “I heard on the news people die from these sorts of bites. Get really sick and die.”

Vylad opened his mouth, then shut it. Brian continued, prying Vylad’s hands away as he pulled the towel from the wound— a gnarly bite that had darken skin around it. “Mister Zvahl tried to help,” he softly said, “but the man… he bit me.”

Vylad, in that moment, then wished he had Laurance’s zealous disbelief towards the epidemic. That he could easily tell the boy not to worry, that once the ambulance got there, he’ll be taken care of.

It wasn’t… a moment he was proud of. A child, looking him in the eyes, despite the boy registered the mortality that might be occurring, still had hope for reassuration.

Vylad pressed the towel back onto the wound, gave a weak smile.

Laurance, thankfully, came back at that point—armed with a meager first aid kit and phone put away, he patted Brian’s head and told him everything was going to be okay.

But the boy knew it wasn’t.

Vylad knew it wasn’t.

Asking for his phone from Travis after he gave up on contacting ‘Katie’, decided it was time to call a familiar number—a red-headed girl, with a bright smile and blue eyes appeared as it dialed up.

“Hello? Vylad?”

“Cadenza,” Vylad said, calmly, “Are you at home?”

“Nope. I’m actually kinda busy right now,” there’s a muffled voice, then Cadenza laughed. “Do you think… you can call back in an hour?”

“I… Cadenza something happened at the rec center.”

He got her attention. “Did something happened to Laurance? Was there an accident.”

“A dead body. I don’t… have all the details but… I think you should get home. Right now. Once the police get here, I’m going to try to get Laurance to your house. Is Lucinda home?”

“Yeah. She took the day off—getting her hair done up later for tonight’s dinner…”

“Good. Get home as soon as you can. We might need to cancel dinner tonight.”

Cadenza made a confused noise, but resigned, she said, “We’ll see. Though traffic isn’t going to be merciful, ha.”

He couldn’t share her laugh. Instead, he gave a sigh, giving her a soft goodbye as he ended the call.

It would be later, years later in fact, where Cadenza would joke no matter how annoyed she felt at the call—partly because of Vylad’s vagueness on Laurance and what happened at the rec, partly because of other reasons—she happy she headed her brother-in-law’s pushy suggestion. Even though it was Aphmau and Laurance’s leaderships that’ll lead to their safety, this gut-reaction to make this call…

Safe to say, it was the right one to make.

He turned back to the Travis, Laurance, the kids— the smallest boy, Malachi, eyed him curiously. Vylad gave him a small smile. Brightly, the six year old returned it.

[technicallymilkshakes]

The Choices We Make (Part 2)

Member: Park Chanyeol Word Count: 1842

Part 1 || Part 2

Up to you.

 Yes, perhaps it was up to you, but only in the way the sky or the stars were. A celestial net flung over your head to trap you into reaching for something untouchable. The only way to get beyond it was to keep your head down.

 You looked down at the phone cradled in your lap.

 [3:50 AM] Understood.

 How annoying. It took just one word to succumb to Park Chanyeol.

  You stared up into the shiftless dark, then rolled over and closed your eyes. There wasn’t much of a difference aside from the random sparks of color that you could see more vividly like this. Or maybe you just imagined them to be more vivid. Yes, you were certain that was it. Now that you were concentrating, everything just looked black. But then a smidgeon of something flickered at the edge of your closed-eye eyesight until the spots burst back in fireworks of color.

 Even after opening your eyes to escape the haunt of your imagination, color continued to capture your gaze. The digital green of the microwave clock loomed luridly in the distance as the minutes rearranged themselves from 5:51 into 5:52.  

 Although you could still feel exhaustion thrumming through your body like a minor chord, you swung your legs up and over the side of the bed. There would be no rest now. You had planned an efficient two-hour nap, but listless thoughts had squirreled it away into hidey spots that you would never be able to find again.

 You stared mournfully at the alarm on your phone for 6 AM and disabled it. Moping about it now would be an exercise in futility. You set your phone down, scooted onto the floor, and got out your laptop and USB stick.

 Over the course of your career, you had learned to distinguish between what academia recommended for you in your profession and what actually worked for you. You liked to hold onto articles until the very end, by which point you were so sick of working on them that your deadline came nearly as a relief. But as your word processor finished loading and your document appeared, you had to resist the urge to close your laptop right then and there and miss your deadline for the first time in your life.

 Thank goodness you were a professional.

 Jaw clenched, you purposefully scrolled past the screenshot of a bedraggled, broken-heart-sweater wearing hooligan who had so suddenly made your life more difficult than it needed to be at 6 in the morning.  

 With an editor’s unforgiving eye, you went through your article and cut with surgical precision any mention of quick-to-conclusion idols. The gaps that resulted you carefully stitched together, only a thin scar remaining visible to those who knew how to read between the lines.

 To complete the rest of the review, you pulled up your notes and retrieved a couple episodes of the drama from your USB, flicking to hastily written times you had jotted down alongside brief memory joggers. From this, you constructed your closing argument, methodically crossing off each bullet point from your notes as you went.

 Now you fell into what you referred to as “polishing” the article. Fingers lifting off the keyboard, you read for content and double-checked your numbers. Satisfied everything checked out, you moved onto formatting, a mindless run of attaching links and organizing fonts that was quickly over. From there, you went back and read the entire thing aloud to yourself thrice, assuring that the last two read-throughs were typo free.

 Leaning back, your eyes flicked to the clock on the computer’s toolbar and expelled a breath. 7:22. Not bad. Now for the last thing.  

 You scrolled back up. Back up to that brown haired, pensive face that you were too accustomed to seeing with a smile. You scowled back at it. Because you were faced with a dilemma. Multiple ones, really, but the less you could think about, the better. Would this image violate the terms that Chanyeol had set for you? At this point, the image only served as clickbait. You acknowledged this along with the cold, slimy shudder that crawled its way vertebra by vertebra down your spine and hoped you’d never have to acknowledge such a thing again. You could change the image, restore the rose-tinted view of yourself that would last you until your next deadline. Or you could keep this one and maybe eek a little more traffic out of it.

 You stared blankly at your screen without resolution until you snapped to and looked at the clock. 7:41. Your heart stopped its wild freefall. You were sure that you fell asleep for a moment there. Thank goodness you woke up in time.

 And that ultimately decided you. You sent the article off to your editor before you 1) questioned yourself any further or 2) fell asleep again. Besides, this wasn’t breaking any rules. He said you had to notify him if it was about him. And it wasn’t. You had meticulously gone through the article to make sure it wasn’t. It was just a review about a drama in which Park Chanyeol happened to appear for a few episodes. No need to justify it to yourself.

 You heaved a relieved sigh and slumped sideways onto the ground. It was dusty. You hadn’t cleaned your flat in a few weeks. You should probably do that. Make your space livable again. Do some laundry, clean some dishes. Maybe go grocery shopping. Like a normal person. Or an adult. Two very different things, you thought to yourself and snorted. But the floor was surprisingly comfortable. You stretched, laying a hand on the bare skin of your stomach, and determined to do it all later.

  Later, as it turned out, happened to be after lunch. You could only force your body to nap for a few hours before a stiff lower back woke you up. You hobbled together some lunch, a meager little affair of rice and Spam, and then cleaned out your refrigerator. There wasn’t much that needed cleaning. A few vegetables far past their prime. The questionable contents of a couple of containers. You scrubbed down the shelves and it looked practically good as new.

 You eyed the dishes in the sink with a little more trepidation. You took it as a personal challenge to use the least amount of cutlery and plates possible per meal, so what awaited you in the sink was the culmination of at least a month’s work. In a bid to appeal to both procrastination and laziness, you decided to leave the plates to soak and come back to it later.

 In the meanwhile, you cleaned the countertops, sorted your trash and recycling, picked up your clothes, and swept and mopped. Luckily, only so much space existed in your small studio apartment and you finished while the sun was still high. A pile of clean clothes still lay on your bed, while your dirty ones waited on top of your washing machine. Your laptop and its chaotic company of work stuff lay spread out same as always on the small floor table that doubled as a dining surface. Although maybe not organized, your apartment was at least passably clean.  

 After a quick shower, you slipped into some jeans and a comfortable sweater, then jogged out to the grocery store, disposing of your trash along the way. You had decided to forego the car today. The sight of it would make you too upset.

 The grocery store could be easily overwhelming for you with its press of bodies and colors and delicious things to eat. Tackling it with a list made it more bearable. Ingredients for a simple meal. Maybe doenjang-jjigae. Some ramen. As you pulled items into the cart, you deleted the corresponding line from your phone. A notification appeared on your phone just as you were scrolling to see if you had written down shampoo and conditioner or just shampoo and the message opened before you could register what it was or who sent it.

 [3:15 PM] [Drama Review] Missing…  [3:15 PM] cute [3:16 PM] I especially liked the part where u talked about me w/o mentioning my name [3:16 PM] could’ve used a better pic tho :/ [3:17 PM] overall I’d give it a 6/10

 You halted in the middle of the aisle but couldn’t stop yourself from watching the second dawning of your demise.

 [3:19 PM] btw I got an estimate today [3:21 PM] fyi the headlight assembly alone costs about 1mil won [3:22 PM] not sure tho [3:22 PM] I might want an upgrade~

 Your fingers tightened around your phone and you had to resist the irrational urge to throw it down. It would just be another thing you couldn’t afford right now.

 Managing a deep, calming breath, you slid your phone into your pocket. You would just be playing into his hands if you responded right now. You grabbed a bottle of shampoo and made your way around an elderly couple, who were passively griping about how they needed something but you were in their way, to return a few items back to the shelves.

  You regretted not bringing your car. Although you bought less than you had intended to, it was no walk in the park hauling multiple bags of groceries up to your flat.

 By 4, you were back at your apartment, putting away your groceries. Then you rolled up your sleeves for Round 2. You wanted to be so tired by the end of this that the most rise Chanyeol might get out of you was a sigh. So you did a load of laundry, tackled the dishes in the sink, cleaned the bathroom, put away your clean clothes, and finally, made your bed.

 It couldn’t be put off any longer, however. You opened your messages and stared at them for another dismal moment, and then composed your response.

 [6:38 PM] How do you expect me to pay for upgrades when I can barely afford the base price?

 His text came two minutes later. He must be glued to his phone, you thought derisively.

 [6:40 PM] should’ve thought of that before u went crazy sasaeng mode and crashed into my car [6:41 PM] but [6:44 PM] if youre good

 You waited for the next message. Your phone dimmed and then went black from inactivity. An odd jitteriness overcame you and you had to roll onto your mattress and press your face into your pillow to drown it out. It wasn’t until you were on the cusp of a day dream luring you into a sleeping one that the slight vibration of a message came. Groggy fingers fumbled for the device and brought it up to eye level. Eyes darted over the words, eyebrows furrowing. You set your phone back down and then turned your back on it, a thin sigh escaping you as you closed your eyes.

 [7:01 PM] then maybe we can work something out

A/N: I live! This story lives! Praise be to the Dimpled One!! This was a trial and a half to write. Many apologies.  A/N 2: Re-uploaded, but it still appears as if this fic isn’t showing in tags.