#i hate him BAD. sly little fucker

[cweampier]

leon loves it when you cry, your face covered in tears as he coos at you and licks them away <3 (i know from first hand experience)

god what he’d give. what he’d fucking give to have a cute girl crying in front of him IDK if i stuck with what you asked for sorry if i went off the rails a bit.. hehe

fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you pouted, the way you mewled as leon fucked himself between your thighs, chasing only for his release. he was so mean for that, and he knew it. but he couldn’t help it, seeing you so desperate for his dick enough to shed tears for it really ignited something inside him. an insatiable appetite presented itself to him.. and fuck did he love a good chase every once in awhile.

“l-leon.. please, want you so bad..” you hiccuped, trying to angle your hips to potentially get the head of his cock to penetrate your aching cunt to no avail. he couldn’t help but feel amused by your unrelenting pleads, so oblivious to how greedy you sounded. “poor baby.. so dumb and needy, what am i gonna do with you, mn?” he cooed as he leaned in closer to your face, swiping his tongue over your glistening cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears. he felt almost guilty for enjoying this as much as he was. he decided to continue to chip away at your patience, making sure to calculate his thrusts tactically enough to make contact with your neglected clit, bumping the tip of his pretty cock against it teasingly.

you were so confused, it was like you weren’t being heard. usually he spoiled you rotten, what’s with the sudden change? you stared back at him glossy eyed, in which he responded with a cocky grin before frowning mockingly. “you’re.. g’na finish what you started,” you responded, pathetic. he raised a brow, slowing his hips as he pressed them against the plumpness of your ass, cock slotted snuggly between your folds as he pressed his chest against your back. it earned a groan from the both of you, feeling his breath tickle your neck.

“it’s a good try but i don’t exactly take orders from desperate little brats,” he began, watching another tear roll down your disheveled face in awe, you really were something. “look at you all snotty face just cause you didn’t get it your way. want my cock bottoming out inside that greedily little pussy of yours so badly, don’t’cha? need me to pay extra attention to that clit’a yours? so cute..” he continued to egg you on with a filthy mouth, trying to get you to admit defeat. your lips pursed flatly together, feeling them tremble as more tears threatened to fall. you shut your eyes tightly before giving into his attempts to pester you further.

“inside,” you cry out dumbly, on the verge of tears once more to no one’s surprise. “wan’ your cock inside, leon, please-!” your head spun, leon fucking kennedy. only a man like him could ever hold the capabilities of having a pretty girl wailing for him to fuck her. “fuck me, leon, want it s’bad. promise, i’ll be good for you.. so good.” leon sat there, admiring his work, reducing you into nothing but a beseeching mess before him.

he sneered lightheartedly before parting your thighs swiftly with his hand, positioning himself in front of your sobbing pussy as the cool air brushed against it, sending shivers down your spine. “atta girl, that’s all i wanted to hear. see what happens when you use your words?” he lectured softly before unsheathing himself inside you, relishing in your plush walls as they welcomed him with earnest.. <333 ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

[n3wstxd]

hii if u don't mind could you maybe do some kirk/dave rough sex/hate sex???? top dave!

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄/𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊 - 𝐃𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

warnings: degrading, degradation kink, slight humiliation kink, blow job(s), face-fucking, semi-public sex, Kirk’s a slut (we all knew that)

okay after this setting Dave actually takes Kirk back home I just don’t know how to progress from there but I’m just putting this out because yeah!!

nsfw under the cut :)

From across the bar, Dave glares down Kirk. He knows fully well who the guitarist is—his replacement in Metallica. How dare he waltz right into the band the same day he was kicked onto the streets like a dog? Resentment and bitterness towards him stewed in his heart, hazel eyes staring him down.

Kirk doesn’t seem to notice—he’s too busy laughing and chatting with his bandmates, though there is the small feeling of someone watching him…

Dave's stare is relentless though, studying each movement, each laugh that comes out of Kirk's mouth as if to scrutinize any sign of weakness he may have. It's a fierce gaze, a mixture of envy and anger, directed solely at the unsuspecting guitarist.

Beside him, Junior is a little concerned. He knew it was a bad idea to come to this place, and now Dave was mad and the whole evening would go wasted.

Dave sensed Junior's unease beside him and reluctantly diverted his gaze from Kirk for a moment. He looked at Junior, his expression still hard. "Relax, kid," he muttered, his voice gruff. "Why are you so nervous?”

Although Dave's words are supposed to reassure, they're said without much warmth, still too focused on Kirk across the room. He can still see the guitarist laughing and talking, like an annoying buzzing in his ear that he wished would stop. Frustration simmers within him, and his jaw clenches involuntarily.

Taking a swig of his drink, Dave's gaze once again finds its way back to Kirk, observing him with a mixture of jealousy and disdain. It's as if he cannot help but watch Kirk like a hawk, as if his mere presence is a taunt to his own misfortune.

Kirk walks off to the bathroom, and Dave decides he’ll take his chance. The guitarist turns to Junior, giving him a look that said “I’m going to do something you won’t like”, and Junior takes the hint, immediately moving from the bar to find some chick to spend the night with.

Dave, seizing the opportunity like a pouncing tiger, watches as Junior saunters off. He allows himself a sly smirk, pleased with himself for clearing the path. 

With a steady determination, he peels himself away from the bar and starts making his way across the room towards the bathroom.

Dave's strides are confident as he weaves through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the door to the bathroom. He tries to appear nonchalant, but his heart is pumping with a mix of anticipation and anticipation. 

He's aware that what he's about to do is probably not the wisest choice, but his bitterness towards Kirk is like a wildfire, burning hotter with each step he takes closer to the bathroom.

Dave reaches the door, a look of determination mixed with a hint of mischief in his eyes. He pauses a moment, taking a deep breath, the sound of the music and chatter in the bar just a faded hum in his ears. He grips the handle and pushes the door open, revealing the bathroom beyond.

It’s super empty. To be fair, the bathroom Kirk had gone into was quite secluded, and he never would’ve know it was there if not for Kirk. 

Dave enters the restroom, the sound of the main room now muffled behind the closed door. He looks around, noticing the solitary nature of the bathroom. It's eerily quiet, save for the distant sounds of the bar's main area. It's perfect.

Dave stalks further into the bathroom, his boots softly echoing against the tiled floor. He comes to a stop by a sink right next to Kirk. The guitarist’s brown eyes fly up to see who it was. Kirk gives a small smile, familiarity shining in his eyes.

“Oh, hey, Dave.” 

The fucker remembers his name… 

Dave's expression darkens even further as recognition flashes in Kirk's eyes. A curt nod is given in return, his voice a low, gruff rumble. 

“Kirk.” 

He doesn’t bother with pleasantries, his irritation already brewing underneath the surface. Dave's eyes narrow, studying Kirk, his thoughts swirling with suppressed anger and jealousy.

He moves closer, positioning himself next to the guitarist. Their reflections are seen in the mirror above the sinks, Dave towering over Kirk by a few inches. The close proximity and intimate setting of the bathroom adds a layer of tension in the air.

Meanwhile, Kirk’s heart is hammering in his chest, and he gulps silently, wondering what the hell the ginger would want from him of all people. He barely knew the guy and yet he looked like he had his funeral all planned out.

Dave leans against the sink, his gaze meeting Kirk's in the mirror. He's silent for a long moment, his eyes taking in the guitarist's features, the nervousness in his expression, the gulp, the slight tremble in his hands. Dave can't help but smile wryly. He found it pathetic.

“You look like you've seen a ghost,” Dave says finally, his voice low and mocking. “Relax. I haven't got a baseball bat hidden somewhere.” 

His tone is casual, but the underlying tension is palpable. Dave's eyes never leave Kirk's reflection, his gaze intense and unwavering.

He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping another octave. “I just want to talk...privately.” 

The bathroom's dim lighting casts shadows across Dave's face, making his already fierce features more intense and imposing.

Kirk's heart is now slamming against his ribcage, his nerves on full throttle under Dave's intense gaze. He swallows again, hard. 

“O-okay,” he stutters out, trying to remain calm despite the obvious implication of Dave's request. “What do you want to talk about?” Dave lets out a snort, a mocking smile playing across his lips. He doesn't move away, still standing only a few feet apart. 

“You know, Kirk, I've been watching you,” Dave muses, his voice almost in a purr. “You seem...popular. The golden boy of Metallica.”The bitterness in Dave's tone is clear, his words spitting venom.  

“Everyone seems to love you. Look at you now, getting fawned over by everyone in that room. I bet it feels good, huh?”

He steps closer, invading Kirk's personal space. The guitarist can feel Dave's warmth radiating off him, his scent filling the small area of the bathroom. Dave's eyes burn into Kirk's, his voice dropping even lower. 

“Must be nice...having everything handed to you on a damn silver platter.”

Dave leans in slightly further, his body almost touching Kirk's. He can see the fear in the guitarist's eyes, the way his breaths shallow out, the way his Adam's apple bobs nervously. Dave revels in it, relishing in the power he has over Kirk in this moment.

“Must be nice,” Dave repeats, his voice a mere whisper now. He's close enough that his lips brush Kirk's ear with each word. “That they love you so much. That you get their applause...their admiration...their respect.”

Dave's breath is hot against Kirk's ear, sending shudders down his spine. The ginger's body is so close now, the heat coming off him mixing with the cold air of the bathroom. Dave seems to almost envelope Kirk, his presence overpowering and intimidating.

And Kirk can’t help but find it so arousing, having Dave looming over him. It’s got his blood thrumming, however much scared he was at the moment.

Dave's hand comes up, gripping Kirk's throat in a rough gesture. He uses it to pull Kirk closer, the guitarist pressed up against his body. Dave's chest is nearly touching the back of Kirk's, and he can feel the man's heart pounding through his shirt.

His other hand comes up to rest on Kirk's hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh with almost bruising force. Dave's mouth is hovering millimeters away from the nape of Kirk neck, his voice coming out as a dark, sultry purr.

“You have no idea how much I hate you,” Dave growls lowly, almost right into Kirk’s ear. “How much I have to bite my tongue whenever I see you up on that stage, with that stupid, pretty face of yours. Do you have any idea how much the thought of you makes me seethe inside?”

Dave's grip on Kirk's neck and hip tightens, his body pressed almost flush against the guitarist. His breath is coming fast now, quickened by his own anger and...something else. 

“You look so damn perfect up there,” Dave continues, his voice filled with an underlying hint of lust. “So damn perfect...and I hate you for it.”

Kirk shudders, his jeans feeling a little tighter. He doesn’t resist Dave. To be honest, Dave had been an object of his fantasies for a little while, with those dark devious eyes and that smirk that always had him spilling onto his hand.

Dave noses along the side of Kirk's neck, inhaling his scent. It's driving him crazy, and he can't deny the effect the guitarist is having on him right now. His body is reacting in ways he refuses to admit, the mixture of anger and desire swirling inside him like a storm.

Dave's hands wander now, caressing and gripping Kirk's hips and sides in a possessive way. His mouth continues to explore the side of Kirk's neck, nipping and sucking, leaving little marks on the sensitive flesh.

“I should strangle you right now,” Dave husks, his voice a mix of anger and lust. “I should wrap my hands around your pretty little neck and squeeze until you’re gasping and begging for air.”

The words send a shiver down Kirk's spine, his body responding to the rough touch and harsh words. He swallows hard, his back arching a little without him realizing it, pushing him closer against Dave.

Dave can feel the response in Kirk's body, the subtle arching, the shivers, the quickening breaths. He smiles against Kirk's skin, his own breath coming out hot.

“You'd like that, wouldn’t you?” He growls lowly. “You'd like me to get rough with you...use you like I own you.”

One of Dave's hands moves to the front of Kirk's jeans, palming his growing hardness through the fabric. He smirks at the sharp intake of breath from the guitarist, his own body reacting eagerly to the contact.

“Look at you,” Dave hisses, his hand continuing to palm Kirk's through the denim. “You're so goddamn eager for it, aren't you? You'd let me do anything to you, right now. I bet you'd even get on your knees for me.”

The words make Kirk gasp, his hips canting into Dave’s hand involuntarily. A flush of shame and arousal washes over him, and he can’t help the way his body responds to the ginger. It’s maddening, the way Dave is talking to him, with so much anger and lust in his tone.

Dave's breath comes even harder now, ragged and hot against Kirk's ear. His hand continues to work over the guitarist, his touch rough and possessive. 

“You have no goddamn clue, how badly I want to break you,” he murmurs, practically growling the words out. “How much I want to hear you begging and whining for more.”

Dave's lips are pressed against the side of Kirk's throat, his teeth scraping across the flesh. He can taste the guitarist’s desperation on his tongue, the neediness and vulnerability. Dave feels himself beginning to lose control, the anger and lust mixing together until they are an incoherent wave inside him. 

“Say it,” he commands, his voice a rough, dark whisper. “Say you want me to break you.”

Kirk’s breathing is fast and heavy, his body tensed against Dave. He can feel the heat of the moment coursing through him, the need for it almost overwhelming. Dave’s words, his touch, it’s like a drug that he can’t get enough of. 

“Break me,” he gasps, his voice ragged and pleading. “Please…break me…just please…I’ll do anything.”

Satisfaction and desire flood Dave at the words, a dark, possessive thrill coursing through him. He smirks as he leans in close, his teeth nipping at Kirk’s ear. 

“Anything? Those are dangerous words, y'know.” 

Kirk lets out a quiet whimper, the pain and pleasure mixing into a heady sensation. “I don’t care,” he pants out, his whole body feeling like molten fire. “Just…break me…use me…please…”

Dave’s grip in Kirk’s hair tightens, pulling his head further back. His lips trail down the exposed skin, nipping and sucking, marking the guitarist as his own. 

“Careful what you ask for, sweetness,” he husks, the nickname a mockery as much as it is an endearment. “I might just take you up on that offer.”

Dave's lips have now found Kirk’s collarbone, tasting the skin there with his tongue. He lets his hand fall from Kirk's hair, sliding down his back to grip his ass, pulling him harder against him. 

“If I do,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, “then there’s no going back. Understand?”

Kirk’s breath comes out in a harsh gasp as Dave’s hand explores his body, his own hands coming up to clutch at the ginger’s shoulders. He nods, his words coming out in a needy, pleading whisper.

“Yes, I understand. I don’t care. Just…” He lets out a guttural moan as Dave’s lips move to a sensitive spot on his neck.

Dave's lips turn up into a sardonic smile against Kirk's neck at the needy sounds coming from the guitarist. His hands grip and squeeze relentlessly, pressing the smaller man against his body. 

“God, you're so desperate it's pathetic,” he muses, his tone a combination of amusement and lust.

Dave’s hands are everywhere now, roaming across Kirk’s body as he presses him up against the wall. He lets his lips explore the sensitive flesh of the guitarist’s neck, biting and sucking at the tender spots. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with want. “You’re so willing, so eager. You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you?”

Kirk’s mind is a swirling mess of need and shame, the sensations and Dave’s words sending waves of both arousal and humiliation through him. He gasps and whines as Dave’s lips continue their assault on his neck, his body trembling beneath the ginger’s touch. 

“Yes,” he manages out in a hoarse whisper, his voice raw and needy. “Yes…anything…please…”

Dave chuckles a little at Kirk's obvious neediness, his body and reaction fueling the fire in his gut. He pulls back from the guitarist's neck, his eyes raking over Kirk's flushed and panting form. 

“You’re so vulnerable,” he taunts, his voice harsh and mocking. “So willing to let me do whatever I want to you. Are you like this with James and Lars? I bet you are..”

Kirk’s breath hitches at the words, his eyes widening at the mention of James and Lars. A wave of shame and guilt washes over him as he’s reminded of his bandmates, who are blissfully unaware of the things happening behind the bathroom door. 

“No,” he manages to get out, his voice quiet and shaky. “I’m not like this with them…”

Dave laughs, the sound devoid of humor. “Sure you’re not,” he mocks cruelly. “I bet you beg and whine for their attention just as you are for me. You’d let them touch you and kiss you, wouldn’t you?”

Kirk tries to deny it, shaking his head weakly, but he can’t find the energy to do so, the truth sitting heavy in his gut. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t though of such things with his band mates, especially James. 

But he also knew it would never happen, that such feelings were unrequited. So instead he just lets out a small whimper, his eyes dropping to the floor in shame.

Dave notices the change in Kirk’s expression and body language, the way the guitarist avoids his gaze and fidgets weakly. A cruel smile plays on his lips as he leans in closer, trapping Kirk against the wall. 

“Oh,” he teases, his voice dripping with mockery. “That’s right, they’re not exactly interested in a needy guy like you, are they? That’s why you’re so desperate for it, why you’re letting ME have you like this.”

The sting of Dave’s words hit hard, a truth that cuts deep. Kirk can feel his eyes begin to prick with tears, a mixture of shame and hurt swirling inside him. He nods weakly, unable to deny it. 

“Yes…” he whispers, his voice small and defeated. “Yes…I’m desperate…please…you’ll give it to me…right? You’ll give me what they won’t…”

Dave’s smirk turns more smug at the broken look on Kirk’s face, savoring the sight of the guitarist so vulnerable and pathetic. He likes him like this, begging and needy, all for him. 

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low growl as he murmurs, “That’s right, I'll give you what you want, pretty boy. But you’re gonna have to do something for me first.”

The words send a thrill through Kirk’s body, his mind immediately going to what Dave wants. He nods again, more eager this time than before. 

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” he asks, his voice soft.

Dave's grin widens, his hand coming up to grip Kirk's chin, tilting his head up to look at him. 

“Get on your knees for me,” he commands, his tone gentle but firm. “Show me how desperate you are.”

The demand makes a flush of heat spread through Kirk, his body practically aching to comply. He doesn’t hesitate, slipping out from Dave to kneel on the floor in front of him. He looks up at the ginger, his eyes wide and pleading. 

“Like this?” He asks meekly.

Dave looks down at Kirk, his gaze taking in the sight of the guitarist on his knees before him. A dark thrill goes through him as he looks at the other man, a heady mix of power and lust swirling together. 

“Yes,” he responds, “just like that. You look so pretty down there, on your knees for me. I bet you like being on your knees, huh? Makes you feel like you belong to me, doesn’t it?”

The words go straight to Kirk’s core, making him shiver and whine unconsciously. It’s shameful, how badly he’s craving this, how good being on his knees for Dave makes him feel. 

Dave sees the way Kirk’s entire demeanor shifts, the way he trembles and whines, and it only fuels the dominating fire that was starting to burn inside of him. He moves forward, standing directly in front of the kneeling guitarist, his hand coming up to grip the man’s hair once more. 

“You know what to do.”

The command is clear, and Kirk is helpless to deny or resist it. His hands come up to Dave’s pants, unbuttoning and tugging them down until they pool at the ginger’s ankles, revealing his growing hardness. 

He looks up at Dave, his eyes clouded with a mixture of submission and lust. “Can I…?” He asks, his voice soft and needy, asking Dave’s permission.

Dave lets out a low hum, his fingers tightening in Kirk’s hair at the pleading tone of his voice. The sight of the guitarist at his feet, so obedient and vulnerable, is beyond intoxicating. 

“Go ahead, sweetness,” he purrs, his tone almost taunting. “Take me.”

The permission sends a jolt of excitement and anticipation through Kirk, making him shiver again. He leans forward, his eyes still locked with Dave’s like he can’t look away, and wraps his lips around the tip of the ginger’s throbbing cock.

His eyes never leave Dave’s, watching the ginger’s expressions carefully, taking in every little twitch and gasp. He takes it as a point of pride, how he’s able to affect Dave this way.

Dave lets out a low hiss as he watches Kirk take him in, his eyes dark and focused on the kneeling guitarist. It’s erotic and powerful, to watch as the other man goes to work on him. 

“God damn,” he mutters out, his voice ragged and rough. “You look so good like this, sweetness. On your knees, my big cock in your pretty little mouth. You like it, don’t you?”

A shiver runs through Kirk again, his body and mind overwhelmed with how good this feels. The words, the tone, the dominant way Dave is talking to him, it’s all feeding the fire inside him that only wants more of it. He moans around Dave’s cock, trying to take more of his length down his throat.

Dave hisses again, gripping Kirk’s raven curls tight. The guitarist holds the sides of Dave’s hips. But it feels so good to be gagging and choking on Dave, knowing that his bandmates could walk in and find them. 

The ginger hums smugly as Kirk finally takes him to the hilt, stroking his hair softly now. “I’m surprised you can take all of me—you done this before, little slut?” His cheeks burn in embarrassment, but he groans around Dave’s dick again. 

He isn’t sure whether that’s a denial or confirmation, but either way, Dave’s got Kirk blowing him. 

The ravenette starts to bob his head up and down, his blunt nails digging into the soft skin of Dave’s hips. He noses ginger pubes, the curls nestled neatly over his cock. As Kirk gets more used to the pace, he goes faster, and Dave chokes on a moan, eyes squeezing shut. 

“Shit—”Is all he has to say, fisting Kirk’s hair again. Soon, he’s facefucking him, Kirk’s eyes prickling with tears. God, it burns, but it feels so good..

Tears trickle down the guitarist’s cheeks, drool dribbling down his chin, but it’s worth seeing Dave come undone from his work, hissing and groaning gutturally. 

Kirk is pliant, letting Dave use him as he wishes. Dave takes advantage of that, using him like a fuck toy and chasing his own release. Kirk chokes on him a few times, but Dave doesn’t stop, and he won’t, not until he’s coming down Kirk’s throat.

The sounds they’re making are terribly obscene and loud. The thrill of knowing that anyone could walk in at any second has Kirk groaning around Dave’s cock again. Dave shudders, his release draws near and Kirk knows it. He relishes in it.

The ginger’s balls draw tight, and he shoved Kirk’s head down to his hilt, keeping him there as he finishes down his throat. Kirk takes it all, swallowing it and savouring the taste like it was holy water. 

Kirk pulls off with a wet pop, and Dave runs a hand over his own flushed face. Even as his dick hangs limp now, Jesus, he’s big. And if he’ll let him, Kirk would gladly bend over for Dave. 

“You’re a vacuum.” Dave mutters, tucking himself back into his jeans. Kirk grins and sticks his tongue out, letting Dave see his spend on his tongue. “Christ, you’re a little fucking whore, aren’t you?” He laughs breathlessly, helping Kirk up, who also chuckles.

“Take me back to your place.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

[weirdestcornelius]

just need to rant really quickly about Marco:

i kin Marco pretty heavily for a few reasons, most of them being that we have the same interests and overall personality but also the same problems. i was also the oldest in my family had to care for my siblings from a young age and obviously my family wasn’t as comically big as the cometcare one but i did have more than one sibling to look after at all times. there was often no one to help me despite being surrounded by adults because those adults were dysfunctional and sometimes completely unable to care for themselves let alone children

i wish Marco was seen more in the comet family outside of being a setup for a sly joke or an appearance in a family portrait. it feels like kittycorn ignores the characters she cannot relate to and capitalizes on the ones she can (Blair, Ally, Eve, Norma, Cream seem like a few because of how much they are seen.) I think Marco will undoubtedly get his time to shine but will the trauma and bad experience of being the oldest child in the family also get time to shine? KC herself has said the comet family is very dysfunctional and traumatized but where is that trauma, for the children especially?

i don’t know I just hope he isn’t brushed off as an almost nonexistent character (eg. see “Polly”)

oh don't worry, I'm a ranter and I definitely don't mind rants in my inboxes

I can see where you're coming from, definitely. I can relate to Marco for Different Reasons and I hate how brushed aside he is, same with other kids (*cough* Frosty *cough*)

Marcos trauma is completely ignored unless it's to make jokes about how tired and stressed he is. Which would be funny (coming from a constantly tired and stressed person), but IT'S IGNORED any other time. That's what makes it annoying.

I hope he gets a focus arc soon. I want to see his dynamic with different members of his family, especially Barry. For anyone who hasn't read Marco's toyhouse page, on the "significant links" section it states that he gets annoyed with Barry telling him to do certain things because he doesn't see Barry as his "real" parent. That's SUCH a good chance to write family drama! Have him go off on Barry! Let people be ANGRY without it being about ships! It may just be because I love angry little fuckers but I'm so tired of every character being hit with the uwu-ification beam.

Marco was also said to be upset with he first got his two other siblings because it took a lot of attention away from him since his parents were busy looking after his younger siblings to pay as much attention to him compared to when he was an only child. Imagine how he feels NOW with one of his parents having like seven kids in total along with his OTHER parents having tons of kids. He has SO many nearsiblings now, and he STILL lives in his childhood home despite being 23, likely to help his parents with the crazy amount of kids they decided to have. And yet we haven't seen Marco show any form of the resentment he's said to have, none of the issues he's said to have besides him being tired. If I were in Marco's place I would be FUCKING PISSED and he should be too!

Honestly. I'm hoping something big happens in arc 5 with how much it's being hyped up. We're supposed to see Marcos boyfriend in that arc, so I think he should just run the fuck off and crash at his boyfriends place after having an argument with his parents. It would give us the drama we need because it's been so boring in Cometcare recently. Plus it would give us the Marco character arc we need. I don't want MORE stuff about Sly and Eve and Ally! We get it! They don't like each other because of some major falling out! But please just show us some character development besides them in arc five!

We are starving for Marco content

[anawrites3]

"Honestly, Bruce, what were you thinking?"

Clark sighed exasperatedly as he dodged a porcelain vase flying his way - a third of which shattered pieces were already adorning the wooden floor of King's study chamber - trying to bring himself to be just a little bit more empathetic towards his fellow monarch. He couldn't even recall now how many times has he heard the words "outrageous" and "shameless" this night. If he had to be completely frank with himself although, it was hard. It's not like he didn't feel bad for Bruce when his dear friend found himself in a situation like this, with a choice that was leaving him with no good options. It was only normal that he also felt mad at him since it put his dear nephew in an even worse position.

As a bargaining chip.

"You could've accepted any courtship from so many young and virtuous men!" And Clark remembered many of them and their families taking interest in the young prince as soon as his 16th birthday came; sir Wallace with the brightest smile he's ever seen, lord Queen's charge, prince Roy, even foreign knights like mysterious sir Lucas or sir Raptor seemed bewitched by young prince's charm. Clark found Bruce's overprotectiveness amusing back then, now though..."You should've let them try at least when they asked for Richard's hand, then he wouldn't--"

"I thought" Bruce growled through gritted "I'm giving him a chance. To fall in love, to choose by himself. I thought I'm giving a chance to my son, not to some..." Bruce waved his hand in the direction of his desk where the offending letter lay. "Some old, deprived bastard to ask for him like a war trophy!"

Clark didn't have to look at the letter again, he remembered perfectly the words that horrified him more than his friend's grieving face. Lord Wilson - The Terminator as they called him - whose own kingdom was in a state of war with Gotham for years now, years that took thousands of lives, proposed conflict resolution, a pact that would unite the kingdoms in peace against stronger opponents like Nanda Parbat.

Slade Wison wanted young prince Richard as his spouse - such a small price, a bastard son for peace. A beloved child for the misery of father.

Anon, I love you so much!!! It’s so good ahhh I love royalty aus! I already said it earlier but I’ll say it again - I’m having love/hate relationship with you rn because ITS SO FREAKING GOOD but because of it I almost wrote a whole fic in this reply! I hope you don’t mind me adding to your idea, I really couldn’t stop myself! You guys seriously need to tell me if you’re okay with me writing about your ideas when you send me asks haha

Slade is a sly fucker for using a war like this, damn. And I love how Dick is a bastard son. Or maybeee people just think about him as a bastard son because Bruce took him in and he’s not a royalty by blood. UGH I LOVE IT!! Oh and I really like that Clark is here as well!

Thank you so much for sharing with me! I had to write something for you and I tried to keep it short but... well, see for yourself I guess

/ / / / / / /

"You should have let those men interested in Richard get closer to him." Clark spat out. He knew that there was nothing they could do about it now, knew that Bruce hated the situation even more than he did but he needed to let those words out. "You should have let them at least get to know each other so then Dick would be able to decide for himself. But no, you were just scaring them away instead and now-"

Another vase crashed against the wall where Clark was standing just a moment ago. Bruce grabbed another thing close to him - a potted plant, as there were no more vases left - but before he could throw it at Clark as well, another voice spoke up.

"You're making a mess." Dick said quietly from the doorstep. He had his arms wrapped around himself and looked smaller than a prince ever should. "Other people will have to clean it up for you."

"Dick..."

"I've thought this through." Dick began in a mostly steady voice, not looking at any of them. He wet his lips nervously. "Well, there wasn't really much thinking to do but still... I'm- I'm going to accept Lord Wilson's offer."

The pot slipped out of Bruce's hand and hit the floor loudly, spilling the dirt all around the king's feet.

"No." he said firmly, when he finally found his voice back.

"Bruce-" Clark tried gently but the man ignored him.

"No, Dick. I'm not letting you-"

"Then what do you want to do?" Dick demanded. He looked up at his father at last, his eyes red and rimmed, expression taut as if he was in pain. "What else can you do? Do nothing and just let even more people die in this damn war? Wait a few more years so Wilson'll ask for Jason instead when he gets old enough?"

Bruce stumbled as if he was punched. Clark didn't blame him, feeling himself like he was about to collapse.

"Dick-"

"We don't have a choice, Bruce. And I know you know it." Dick straightened with a shaky breath. "As a crown prince, it's my responsibility to take care of my people. I'm not letting them die for a war that has no purpose. If it takes just one to save hundreds- thousands... then I'm ready to do it."

- - - - -

Dick looked out of the carriage's window, trying to get his hands to stop shaking.

Bruce demanded a meeting before giving Wilson their answer and the king of a neighboring country agreed without any further demands. All warfare was suspended now that the peace treaty was being arranged but their warriors still waited with a held breath - none of them could know whether an agreement would be reached.

Dick knew. There was no way he would ever allow more people to die for nothing, not if he had a way to stop the war. Agreeing to Slade's terms was his decision, it was for the better of both countries. Still, thinking about it like that didn't help with stopping the trembling of his hands.

He met Slade Wilson only a few times in his life but he knew how powerful that man was. There was something about him, something that screamed danger. He had this aura around him that made others fear him, made them want to run away even with being aware that turning your back to him might be fatal. But with that fear came respect. Wilson was a good king, people were saying, he was rigorous but fair.

Maybe he would be a good husband as well.

"We're almost here." Clark announced softly and Dick lifted his head to stare at the castle looming in the distance.

"Oh." he breathed out quietly. He sent his uncle a small smile. "Thank you."

"Of course." Clark replied with a smile of his own, though a bit more forced. He wasn't happy about the deal either. No one was. Even Jason grabbed at his sleeve this morning and tried to stop him from leaving.

Bruce didn't look up. He was staring at his knees with a frown since the moment their journey started and it was clear he was thinking about something hard. Dick placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"It's the best solution." he said when he met his father's eyes.

Bruce placed his hand on top of his and closed his eyes with a tired sigh. He looked so old, so fragile. Not like the proud king he should be.

"Maybe..." Bruce began slowly in a raspy voice. "Maybe if we offered him something else. We still can-"

"He won't agree. You know he won't."

"Maybe it won't be that bad..." Clark offered weakly but Bruce just glared at him.

"I'll be alright." Dick assured them.

He really tried to believe those words himself as the carriage stopped in front of the castle’s entrance.

- - - - -

Slade was already waiting for them in the throne hall when they arrived. He was talking with one of his generals but quickly turned their way when they stepped inside the room. His single eye immediately found Dick and the young prince hid his trembling hands behind his back.

He felt as if his heart was beating loud enough for Slade to hear it even across the giant hall.

"King Wayne. Lord Kent." Slade greeted them with a nod, standing up from his throne. The smile on his lips was a little bit too predatory for Dick's liking. "Prince Richard. Welcome. I’m honored to host you in my country.”

Dick bowed his head. "Your Majesty."

"We appreciate your hospitality, Your Majesty." Clark said, ever the diplomat. “We are aware it was all pretty sudden.”

Not even a week passed since they received Slade’s letter. No one could blame Dick for wanting to stop the war as fast as possible - there was no point in delaying what they all knew would happen anyway.

"Not at all." Slade replied easily, his eye never leaving Dick. No one said a word about the grim expression on Bruce's face. "It's recommended for me and Prince Richard to get to know each other better after all."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. You still didn't get your answer." Bruce hissed through his teeth.

That at least made Slade look away. Dick could breathe a little bit easier without that heavy pressure on him.

"Of course not." Slade hummed. He glanced at Dick again. "You're free to stay here as long as you want before answering to my offer. We all know that reaching an agreement, especially in war times, takes a lot of time and thought."

Bruce pursed his lips into a thin line but before he could answer, Clark placed heavy hand on his shoulder and spoke for him,

"We're grateful for your generosity, Your Majesty, but I’m afraid we won't be able to stay for long."

"I wasn't talking to you. My offer concerns Prince Richard, does it not?" Slade's fingers wrapped gently around Dick's hand and guided it to the king's lips to place a kiss there. "By all means, my prince, make yourself at home."

Part 2 Part 3

[allwaswell16]

This is a fic rec of One Direction fic writers who both appreciate positive, long comments and enjoy replying back to these comments! This was made in honor of an enthusiastic friend who had a few bad experiences commenting in our fandom and receiving less than kind replies. Instead of just fuming about it, I decided to do something about it. I knew that most writers would absolutely love to receive comments like the ones she leaves, so I made a post asking for writers who fit this to recommend their fics to us. And wow did you all come through for us! 

Below the cut are 54 writers, each with one of their fics to recommend to us! But please be sure to check out all their other fics as well! I’ll put the fics in order of wordcount and I’ll list pairing, rating, and wordcount along with the summaries. 

(Please note that there are really lovely writers out there who also very much appreciate each and every one of their comments, but are too overwhelmed or anxious to reply. I am not at all saying that writers who don’t reply are unappreciative!)

Love After the End of the World by @mercurial-madhouse​ / writing_practice [Louis/Harry, E, 162k]

“Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?”

-----

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

Hold You Now by @solvetheminourdreams​ [Louis/Harry, M, 131k]

The string within Harry's own sweatpants is now dangling outside of his pocket, stretched so far out that the seams of his pants have tightened. His eyes remain hyper focused on Louis, how oblivious he is—scrolling through his phone without a care in the world, while Harry feels his tilt on its axis.

Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

forever is in your eyes by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed​ / we_are_the_same [Louis/Harry, M, 125k]

Harry looks fragile in the moonlight, and Louis stands there, pondering, not even sure what it is that he’s thinking of. It’s all just noise in his head, a mix of melancholy and desire, of longing for something that he doesn’t even have a name for.

He wants-

He wants love. He wants to be held and cherished and have a home. Not just a place to lay his head down at night. He wants to be loved the way that Louis had loved creating Harry. He wants his perfect man, but he wants him to be real. He wants Harry to be real-

His lips press against marble, against something cold and unforgiving, and it’s not until his hand comes up to rest against a sculpted neck that his eyes fly open and he stumbles backwards, nearly falling off the stepladder that he’d stood on.

“Jesus Christ.” He whispers, shaking his head and resisting the urge to brush the back of his hand against his lips, erase evidence that isn’t even visible to the naked eye. Harry stands there, as though nothing’s changed, and of course he does, because he’s a statue.

A statue that Louis has just kissed.

don’t want to fight you by @lt2soon​ / starryharry [Louis/Harry, M, 124k]

Louis hates that it’s familiar. He hates that sparring Harry is familiar because they train together. He hates that he even has to spar Harry at all, because Harry is good.

Louis wonders what his life would be like if him and Harry didn’t hate each other. He can’t picture it, really. The incessant bickering that often turns into real arguing, the nasty looks, the eye rolls, the middle fingers. It all feels very necessary at this point.

Or, the one where two fighters can also be lovers because routines are never permanent.

Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo [Louis/Harry, E, 114k]

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

promise your whispers are mine by @lightwoodsmagic​ / lightswoodmagic [Louis/Harry, E, 94k]

"Where did I say it’s been easy for you, or,” he paused, staring at Harry’s lowered head and willing him to look up, “where have you ever gotten the idea that it’s been easy for me either?” When a few beats had passed and Louis was sure the conversation was done, Harry looked up, straight into Louis’ eyes like he was trying to physically pin him in place. “Our situations are completely different and you know it, please stop trying to - .” “Then let me help you fix it, Harry,” Louis interrupted, desperate to reach out and cover his hand with one of his own. “Let me help, please.”

Harry’s the head chef at Azoff’s Catering, and he loves his job; the opportunity has always been more than he could dream of and he’s proud of the food he creates. Until he meets Louis, an event coordinator rising through the ranks with his own company, and who reminds him of the dreams he once had for his own career. While their easy friendship initially thrives in an industry known for chaos and betrayal, they soon discover they both have their secrets, and maybe it’s too late for either of them to try to find happiness outside of their work. Especially when they realise that their happiness might rely on each other.

Playin’ It Safe and Breakin’ The Rules by @local-troubled-writer​ / local_troubled _writer [Louis/Harry, M, 90k]

In his life, Louis Tomlinson set out to do three things: find a way to make art that he loves, make his mum proud, and have as much fun as he could reasonably fit into one lifetime.

--

“Hello?” Harry’s deep voice calls.

“Hi,” Louis pops his head out of his doorway, motioning Harry back. “Louis,” he holds his hand out for Harry to shake and a small grin takes over the popstar’s face. He’s taller than he seems in photographs, but his smile is just the same as the ones that used to wallpaper his sisters’ walls.

“Harry.” He seems to have just gotten off stage, still sweating in a pair of skin-tight black jeans but a soft-looking blue vest. A beige headscarf holds his long curls off his face and he has all the easy confidence of a world-famous pop sensation, but still slouches in a way that isn't unfamiliar to Louis’ own posture.

“Yeah, I know who you are, popstar.” Louis teases, pulling his hand away and jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. “Shall we?”

--

or the One Where Maybe this Fake Relationship Gets a Little Too Real.

Consequences by @allwaswell16​ [Louis/Harry, E, 78k]

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

An amnesia au

The Sound The Leaves Make In The Heat Of The August Sun by @sleepwalk-living / anderscones [Louis/Harry, T, 76k]

Louis is an elf who lives in the Kingdom’s forest, as far away from the pompous Castle Court as he can get while staying within city limits. He’s a thief out of necessity and is happy enough to steal from the rich when they’re not looking. He notices something mysteriously dangerous happening in his forest one morning and begs for an investigation from the Court, who of course tells him he’s seeing things.

Intro a shamed knight, a runaway prince, a blacksmith, and a mage with fae blood who figure something is better than nothing. The King is all too happy to make criminals out of them and run them thinner than they already are just to prove a point to his son. With the combined powers of Captain Pla- One Direction, they figure it out.

adjudication by @bottomlinsons​ [Louis/Harry, T, 75k]

Harry's been engaged to Princess Charlotte of Ryde for as long as he can remember. He's come to know her, to love her, through the letters she's sent him over the past three years.

But when the wedding finally arrives, Harry quickly learns that nothing is as it seems. With his crown and country at stake, Harry must decide who to trust in this strange new land. And the sly Crown Prince of Ryde doesn't seem inclined to make things easy.

The Ground Below is Above My Feet by @zanniscaramouche​ / zanni_scaramouche [Louis/Harry, E, 63k]

“-ouis, are you awake?”

“M’ff,” Louis manages. Slowly he remembers where he is. Who he is. His nerve endings take stock of his body, the soft sheets twisted around his legs and the warm rush of breath on his face. Harry.

“You were sleeping like the dead,” Harry muses, calloused fingers delicately brushing through Louis’ fringe. “Could barely tell if you were breathing.”

Louis' heart stutters, his throat working hard to swallow the lump of ugly truth. Blinks until Harry’s bright eyes come into focus across the pillow.

He holds back the obvious joke.

Plant New Seeds in the Melody by @vintageumbroshirt​ / 28sunflowers [Harry/Louis, E, 58k]

After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of.

Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening.

But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

Live a Thousand Lifetimes by @laynefaire​ / Layne Faire [Zayn/Liam, E, 57k]

It’s 2025.

After secretly writing and producing their first album in ten years, One Direction is weeks away from releasing their first new single and announcing a world tour.

With the whirlwind about to begin again, Liam re-evaluates the last ten years - the fame, the money, the people who changed his life forever - and the person who walked away.

just a flicker in the dark by @falsegoodnight​ [Harry/Louis, E, 57k]

Harry Styles is his case partner. High and mighty, annoyingly smug Harry Styles who’s known him for years and has fucking seen him naked for fuck’s sake.

He glances at Venus who’s blinking up at him with curious eyes, no doubt sensing the agitation sparking in his magic.

“This is not happening,” Louis says loudly. “This is not fucking happening. I am going to kill Liam, oh my god.” He doesn’t even know if Liam is responsible for this but it feels like something he’d do to drive Louis absolutely insane - exes don’t just show up to your assigned haunted house out of nowhere. “Fucking fuck!”

He nearly jumps when Harry knocks again, his muffled voice carrying through the wood. “I can hear you, you know,” he drawls, sounding frustratingly amused.

Louis exhales, resisting the urge to scream.

-

Or, Louis is a struggling witch desperate to prove himself after yet another magic disaster and finds a calling in the haunted house of client Niall Horan. Things get more complicated when he’s assigned a case partner: acclaimed medium and ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles.

I'm On the Hunt Now (I'm After You) by @afangirlfantasy​ [Louis/Harry, M, 56k]

Omegas haven’t been able to shift into their wolves for two hundred years. That is, until Louis Tomlinson changes everything.

Or...an AU where Alpha Harry and Omega Louis have a lot more than falling in love to deal with after The Mating Ceremony.

That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright​ / yeah_alright [Louis/Harry, T, 50k]

Harry’s never noticed how lovely Louis really is. Maybe it’s just that she’s usually so guarded – a little tense, a little irritated, a little put out. At least when she’s at school, and also usually when she’s around Nick, which are the only times Harry has really seen her. Until tonight. Tonight Harry’s seen her with her guard completely down. Too busy laughing and enjoying herself to remember to be prickly, maybe. She seems different.

It feels different.

A Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU that picks up right where the movie leaves off, and imagines what might happen if Ferris' girlfriend and sister become friends. And maybe something more, too.

Baby, Won’t You Look My Way? by @peachbootylouis​ / PeachBootyLou [Louis/Harry, E, 50k]

Louis tiptoed to the door and opened it, looking over his shoulder for a moment. Harry looked absolutely gorgeous, almost enough to make him strip back down and give it another go. But that wasn’t who Louis was. So he sighed and stepped outside, leaving back to his flat. And for the first time in years, he felt alive.

Or the where Louis’ routine centered life runs like clockwork until a chance hook up throws a wrench named Harry into it all. But as it may turn out a change in plans could be what Louis has needed all along.

dirty laundry looks good on you by @tomlinvelvetfics​ / tomlinvelvet [Louis/Harry, E, 50k]

When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

OR; the utility room is a great place to fall in love.

Passing By by @larryyouknow​ / Larry_you_know [Louis/Harry, E, 48k]

Sometimes, people are in each other's lives just for the briefest of moments. They meet and then go their separate ways because being vulnerable is scary and it might be easier to not let anybody else in. But some people aren’t meant to be just passing by. Maybe when they open their eyes, they can learn things about themselves they haven’t known before. If they let their hearts speak they will find a way to be together.

Or the one where Harry doesn't even know he's into guys until he meets Louis on a boat trip. There's something more to their friendship but it ain't gonna be smooth sailing.

i kiss you (across hundreds of separating years) by @milkcurls / loveroflou [Louis/Harry, M, 44k]

He reminds Louis of the day he met him, the first day of Harry’s first year and Louis’ second, when he stood on wobbly legs beside Zayn, his cheeks flushed and hair parted to the side and tucked neatly behind his ear. He’s all dainty and soft – he’s pretty, Louis can admit that.

He’s also a rich frat boy who fucks every omega that will throw themselves at him – and they all do – so instead of pretending to be a precious little doll Louis thinks he should spend more time learning how to be a decent human being.

or, the stars and two amused boys are playing cupid, and there are one too many coded love letters and a duck plushie that smells like home

don’t want no other shade of blue by @louisisworthit​ / padfootyoudog [Louis/Harry, E, 43k]

“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis.

“All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.”

“As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”

prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.

A Thousand More by @travelingwinchester​ / Ot5aresoulmates [Louis/Harry, NR, 42k]

Harry wakes up one morning during the separation of April 2015 missing Louis fiercely. He wonders if they had never been on the X-Factor would they have met. Cue the weirdest "dream" he's ever had in which lessons about the course of true love are learned.

fondre ton absence by @scrunchyharry​ [Louis/Harry, T, 41k]

Harry had never really given much thought to the future. He preferred to let life steer him forward and to follow in the footsteps of Louis, his best friend from as far as his memory went, his lover, his everything. Louis knew better than he did what was good for him.

It changed drastically when Louis was ripped away from him, drafted and sent to the front to fight in a war that Harry had always been sure would never reach him. Too young and too sickly to follow, Harry was left on his own for the first time in his life.

When he thought things could not possibly get worse, Louis went missing at the Somme and was declared dead. While everyone buried and mourned him, Harry never moved on. If Louis were dead, he was sure that he would know it. Their lives were too entwined, he would know if half of his heart had died.

Determined to find Louis, Harry did everything he could in his quest to be reunited with him, except prepare for the state Louis might be in.

He did not prepare for the harsh truth he would have to face: was love possible without memories?

I’ve Been Hoping You’d Be Somewhere Better Than This by @runaway-train-works / runaway _train [Harry/Louis, E, 40k]

“Does she know who it is then, from the New York office?” Louis enquires.

“Yeah, some guy Henry? Henry Styles I think she said?"

“Harry.”

“What?"

“Harry. His name is Harry Styles.” His heart sank. Louis hadn’t met him, they had only shared a couple of emails back and forth, but he knew exactly who he was. And Harry hadn’t just been killing it in the Big Apple, he’s been ripping the place to absolute shreds, nailing some of the most lucrative accounts in the business.

Louis is so fucked.

Or

The one where Louis is up for a promotion, he just has one tiny, little problem standing in his way.

Without you it’s a season I ain’t needing by @whatevertearsyou​​ / perfectdagger [Louis/Harry, M, 38k]

Spring was everything in '17, now I'm just cold Summer fell to fall after all November froze Without you it's a season I ain't needing, I want to go come back home The reds and all the greens don't mean a thing when you're gone Winter means nothing to me now without you.

A long distance relationship au in which Harry is away for a year and Louis is left to pick up the pieces.

take my hand, wreck my plans by @daggerandrose​ / amomentoflove [Harry/Louis, T, 38k,]

Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him.

“Mr. H,” he whispers.

The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.”

“Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…”

“Dance?”

Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.”

Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.”

Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

I Wish, I Found Love by @slytherinzouis​ / friendofhayley [Louis/Harry, E, 37k]

A fandom retelling of the Maiden Without Hands.

Solace is a land of religious hypocrisy, demons, and two ostracized families. When prophets from every denomination foretell a boy of unknown origin who might change the tide of the magical world, is any place safe for him?

Harry and Louis grew up together, two pariahs among their peers. Will their love be able to overcome distance, prophecies, and the trials of finding out who you truly become under pressure?

You Try To Be Everything (I Need) by @lululawrence​ [Harry/Louis, NR, 36k]

Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and rarely did it involve traditional weapons. A group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength amongst portions of the western European continent and spread quickly.

There was a fight the Southern Powers didn’t expect coming from the north of England, though. Resistance came in the form of an organised underground; a group comprised of people with the Touch that did the best they could to enforce a line that would not be crossed. Slowly, that line was moved from the Channel to boundaries further and further north. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere.

Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing.

Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined.

Your Wonder Under Summer Skies by @emilee1421​ / Emilee_1421 [Louis/Harry, NR, 34+, wip]

Needing an escape after a particularly hectic year, Louis decides to join Harry in Italy where Harry is working on his next Gucci campaign. While in Italy the two decide to join an old friend at her county home to enjoy a much deserved break from their usually busy lives. Louis and Harry begin to see their friend in a different light and all three are forced to confront the possibility that their friendship may actually be something much deeper.

Work of Magic by @justalarryblog​ / Bekita [Louis/Harry, NR, 34k]

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

Swear I’ve Known You Since Forever by @louinlavender​ / abaddxns [Louis/Harry, T, 33k]

Harry then pats around his trouser pockets only to remember that Gemma has his phone in her bag so he can’t even call her, and he’s far too intimidated to ask a stranger if he can borrow theirs. She has his wallet, too, so all he has on his person are the stick of gum in his back pocket and his muddy wellies and a too-long scarf he’s ready to ball up and throw the ground, because he’s only sixteen and he’s just a shopboy in a bakery and he’s about to cry twenty minutes into his first music festival that he had to beg to attend, all because he lost his big sister and her uni friends, who didn’t even want him to come in the first place, and—

“Oi, y’alright, mate?” a bright voice asks, just as his eyes start to water.

Or: Harry attends his first music festival and promptly gets lost. Little does he know that the first friendly face he encounters is bound to change his life forever.

Part one of three of 'And The Sun Came Out'—a series detailing the growth of Harry and Louis' relationship through the years after meeting at Leeds Fest as teenagers.

i’m gonna keep this love, if you let me by @tomlinbuns​​ / pixies [Louis/Harry, E, 26k]

Louis makes Harry pretend to be his boyfriend one night out. The rest is history.

Dear Diary (series) by @alwayslarry-vol28​ / kikiberosski16 [Louis/Harry, E, 20k]

Life in quarantine is hard, especially if you're an arrogant son of a bitch and your husband is a stubborn little shit. Harry and Louis argue a lot, so much it affects their daily routines. Harry tries to write his feelings down in a diary, but will this cause more trouble for the couple?

The Golden Prince by @behappyhl​ [Harry/Louis, E, 19k]

When He arrives in London, he’s speechless.

It’s so different from his little hometown, he can’t help the feeling that it is an unknown planet. Everything is bigger; The streets, the buildings, the stores. The people are always running somewhere, always in a hurry. Harry instantly feels out of place.

Or, Harry lives a perfectly normal life until he gets a life changing job opportunity.

The Boy with the Tin Chest and a Glass Heart by @louloubabys1992​​ / louloubaby92 [Louis/Harry, M, 17k]

Alpha Harry Styles, world-renowned author of fairy-tales, is being persuaded by the Beta, Liam Payne to hire a new illustrator. Since Harry’s own illustrations are too graphic for what is supposed to be children’s stories, Liam feels the need is dire. Omega Louis does not agree with Liam since he believes that Harry’s stories are fine just the way they are. Of course this has nothing to do with Louis being totally biased or totally head over heels for Harry. It certainly has nothing to do with being jealous of the mysterious omega illustrator Liam has in mind to team Harry up with. Seriously, it has nothing to do with that at all. Nothing, absolutely nothing, zilch, nada. Yeah...

Sweet Heart by @bluecolouredlou​ [Niall/Louis, G, 16k]

Designing clothes, not falling in love.

That was what Niall had in mind when he first met up with Louis. He couldn't be falling in love with the other omega. Not while work as one of the few omegas at the company was getting more stressful. Not when he was supposed to find an alpha and settle down.

just one look (and i fell so hard) by @disgruntledkittenface​ [Harry/Louis, M, 15k]

Louis takes a small step back, breaking the moment first. “Well, I should–”

“Do you want to come up?”

The words are out of Harry’s mouth before he’d even planned them, and he bites his lip.  

“Oh, thank god,” Louis laughs, stepping back into Harry’s space. “I wasn’t, um…”

“Wasn’t ready to let go of you yet,” Harry finishes quietly, glancing up at Louis.

“Yeah,” Louis nods, reaching up and twirling one of Harry’s curls in his fingers. “Yeah, exactly.”

Harry has wanted to go to the Shubert Theatre ever since he moved to New York and lucked into a rent-controlled apartment just outside of the Theatre District. When he finally gets his chance, he hopes the night can meet his sky-high expectations. But the last thing he could have expected was the man seated next to him.

wasting my time when it was always you by @hometothecanyonmoon​ / sunflower_lwt [Harry/Louis, T, 15k+, wip]

A "Married To The Maverick Millionaire" AU. Louis is the captain of Manchester United, Harry's the heir of the richest charity organization in the country as well as his best friend and they have to fake being married to save both of them from impending doom.

Sounds like love to me by @neondiamond​ [Louis/Harry, G, 14k]

“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

Louis watches as Harry’s face falls with the realization that this is one of those things he won’t be able to experience. For a second, Louis considers saying no, to show Harry they’re truly on the same boat through all of this. But he nods in the end, reaching over for Harry’s hand as the doctor flips a switch. Noise fills the room then, and it takes a few seconds for the sound to become clear enough for Louis to make out the baby’s fast heartbeat.

“It’s really fast,” he voices his thoughts out loud as he uses his thumb to tap against the back of Harry’s hand, replicating the rapid rhythm of the baby’s heartbeat. It takes the younger man a little while to figure out what Louis’ doing, but a huge grin breaks out on his face as soon as he does.

“Is that them?” He signs with the other hand, his own eyes starting to tear up when Louis nods.

OR: Harry is deaf, Louis is pregnant. They figure it out.

The Prince and the Youtuber by @haztobegood​ [Louis/Harry, E, 12k]

The Annual Rosendal Spring Gala hosted by the Royal Family is the most prestigious fundraiser in the country. When a problem with the honorary foundation arises, Crown Prince Louis Tomlinson must pick a new worthy foundation on short notice. He discovers the perfect replacement in an unlikely place, while watching his favorite YouTuber, Harrysparkles.

One Way Road To Something Better by @femstyles​ [Harry/Louis, T, 12k]

Four years ago when Louis and Harry moved in together, Louis promised Anne that he’d take care of Harry no matter what. But things don’t always go as planned, and sometimes risky choices have to be made.

Inspired by Don't Let It Break Your Heart

stop the world ('cause i wanna get off with you) by @thedevilinmybrain​ / devilinmybrain [Harry/Louis, E, 12k]

Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.

my solitude ain’t the same no more by @dryourtearsaway​​ / louisnights [Harry/Louis, M, 10k]

Louis is a traveling homicide detective who goes to the small town of Holmes Chapel to investigate the murder of a young woman.

somewhere only we know by @quelsentiment​ / wordsnnotes [Zayn/Louis, T, 9k]

Their eyes meet again, and the man suddenly frowns, asking: “Do we know each other?” Oh. So maybe that’s why Zayn is so intrigued with him. He’s always been pretty bad at remembering people’s faces, but there is some kind of vague familiarity to the man’s appearance. “Might help if you told me your name”, he points out. “Right. Sorry, I’m an idiot”, the man chuckles. “I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” And of course. With this voice, Zayn should have known. He’s actually surprised he didn’t recognize it right away. “Lou”, he says, his own voice caught in his throat. “It’s me, Zayn.” Or: Zayn and Louis grew up together, but haven’t seen each other in over a decade. Now they're both in their twenties and meet again on a flight from LA to London, with ten hours in front of them to catch up, and maybe start something new.

I'm Asking You Please, Don't Talk Dirty to Me by @larry-hiatus​ / larry_hiatus [Harry/Louis, E, 9k]

Prompt #68: Harry’s best friend Louis is a nice, well-mannered omega, at least when it comes to sex talk. He has always been closed off and quiet... until Harry hears how Louis talks during his heat. Now, it's all Harry can think about before his upcoming rut... (Original prompt wording edited for clarity)

making me sweat by honey_beeing [Harry/Louis, E, 9k]

A not-exactly University AU where Harry and Louis meet at an orgy where the both of them don't intend to have sex at.

Twist the Knife by @snowjosh​ / jishler [Harry/Louis, E, 6k]

Infuriating, but Louis missed it. Louis missed him. His thighs and his chest and breath and warmth and toothbrush next to Louis’. He missed sex with Harry but he missed his presence more: Louis would settle for watching Harry get himself off if it meant he got to see him; hear the voice that was like a soothing balm over all his wounds.

Two weeks after their breakup, Harry wants his toys back.

the stars are coming home by @harrystinyshorts​ / lsforever [Harry/Louis, G, 5k]

For years Harry has been waiting for their schedules to click just right. Finding a day where he’ll not only be available but also is the only visitor on the premises has been near impossible.

After three years together and nearly a full year of marriage, Harry has finally been permitted to sit in for one of the team’s practices. They get more than they bargained for.

My True Love Gave to Me by @ponymom-stuff​ / ponymom [Louis/Harry, NR, 5k]

After puzzling over a Christmas gift for Louis, Harry comes to what he believes is the ultimate gift for his true love.

Fistiana by @louandhazaf​ / YesIsAWorld [Zayn/Louis, NR, 2k]

They met in the center of the ring and bumped their bare knuckles together.

Strawberries and Cigarettes by @hlhome28​ / ThoseFookin_Avacados [Louis/Harry, T, 2k]

strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

"Need help there, love?" "Oh god, yes-" Harry turned around to look at the source of the voice and his heart dropped to his stomach as they caught each other's eyes.

Or on a very lonely valentines day, Harry's car breaks down in an unknown alleyway, where he bumps into a blue-eyed boy who takes him back seven years ago on the same day.

Safe Like Springtime by @beelou​​ / cherrylarry [Louis/Harry, G, 1k]

On the way out of the park, Gabriel gasps suddenly and points across the grassy area. He starts running.

When Harry catches up to Gabe, - that boy runs fast - he's with a man and his dog and Gabe is petting the dog.

"Gabriel James. You know better than to run off like that! Did you ask to pet the dog?" Harry scolds.

"I'm sorry Uncle Harry. I saw a dog and I just wanted to see the fluffy dog! Look how fluffy!" Gabe exclaims.

Harry rolls his eyes and turns his attention to the dog owner. The very attractive dog owner.

Or, the one where Harry takes his nephew to the park and runs into Louis and his Labradoodle Clifford.

best hangover cure by @loulovehome​ [Louis/Harry, E, 1k]

"A wank will miraculously cure your hangover, honey."

Stay Till The A.M. by @flexible-racoon​​ / goneforbooks [Harry/Louis, G, 1k]

It's 23rd July and Louis reminisces.

[bangtans-bubs]

BTS Reaction #4: When you fight another female idol at MAMA’s

-/-

a/n: Hey army! How have y’all been? Just an FYI, I MAY have gotten carried away with some of these, which is why they’re lengthier than others. THAT DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T LIKE THE MEMBERS EQUALLY, OKAY?! I’ve been a little caught up with school work, so my apologies if your requests are taking a while. Anyways, I’ve been working on a couple requests, so feel free to submit any ideas :)

warning: just the usual ‘wanna beat a bitch up’ vibe + a few dirty remarks

word count: 200 - 390 (per member)

*creds to gif owners

-/-

> Kim Namjoon (RM)

He has always made sure to keep you controlled when you get angry to the point where you’ll start throwing hands. It’s either he asks you to breathe in and breath out, or his 6 feet figure will find its way in front of you and will take all your blows instead of the girl. The problem started when you spotted Namjoon’s ex making faces at you when you both were taking pictures together for the paparazzi. Namjoon had caught onto what had quickened your breathing and asked for you to calm damn. As much as you wanted to be the bigger person in this situation, you really couldn’t have her acting like every time she sees you two. So, once you had passed by the paparazzi, you walked straight towards her and Namjoon did try to latch onto your wrist, but you were too quick.

“Are you 5 years old or something?” You squinted your eyes as you questioned her, your chest still heaving from before. She let out a dry scoff before she began laughing. How does this bitch have the audacity to laugh after making faces those faces?

“Can’t believe I got under your skin, Y/n,” she retorted with a peak in her tone. Before she knew it, you had punched her right in her jaw, knocking her off her feet within seconds. Before you could throw more punches, Namjoon had dashed to your side and retained you, quickly taking you away from the messy scene. Once he brought you to a more private setting, he leant down to your eye level and huskily whispered, “I thought you were only frisky in bed, but you’re frisky during fights too now, huh?”

> Kim Seokjin 

Jin was hosting the Mama’s Music Awards with Irene and when they were joking around, she made a snide remark about how he was dating someone that was in the music industry. Jin always had his way of putting people in their spot, and he did do that by saying, “Even if she was an idol, my eyes would still be on her. Don’t be jealous that you’re not her.”

The audience laughed at his nasty remark thinking he unintentionally insulted Irene, but only you, Irene and the other BTS members knew that comment was personal. After the show was done, you excused yourself from the BTS group and went your own way, trying to find Irene. Jin knew what your intentions were and asked for you to not physically fight her, but just say a few words that’ll be imprinted in her mind. Within seconds of splitting from the boys, you ran into Irene. Perfect. You thought she would speak in an un-provocative manner, but she was speaking as if she wanted to throw hands, so you did just that. After a minute or so, Jin and the others heard screams that sounded like someone was in pain. Jin and the others turned the corner to see Irene and you tangled up on the floor, your hands clawing at her face as she did the same. Jin wasn’t going to do anything, but he noticed how you had a bruise welling up on your right arm and quickly came to pry you out. Oh, how hard it was for him to not break into a fit of laughter after noticing how she was splayed across the floor like a rag doll. Since he’s a gentleman, he helped Irene up before he took you to his dressing room.

“How come you listen to me when I teach you about fighting, but when I tell you something in bed, you become rebellious, jagi?”

> Min Yoongi (Suga) 

He has the nerve to sit back and relax after he pissed you off to the point where you wanted to drag that girl by her hair. He knows that you get a slight bit possessive when a girl gets handsy with him, especially when he doesn’t acknowledge it happening. What you thought was a fan of his was just another female idol. You weren’t going to do much about it, but she became very touchy within seconds and he had no idea what her intentions were. You glared at him in hopes of him taking it as a signal to move away from her, but he didn’t. He just smirked. That mother fucker is doing this on purpose, isn’t he? Your eyes never left his for what felt like an eternity, all while the girl was still feeling him up and she knew he was already dating someone. You walked towards the hungry lady and decided to pull Suga away from her, but she then hooked her arm around his and began arguing with you without knowing that you were his girlfriend. She was asking for a lot of your patience and you weren’t going to give her any. You just pried her arm away from his and pulled him towards the staircase, but she had the nerves to push you. You didn’t even throw hands yet, but your quick movements had caused her to flinch and topple over. You and Suga tried to hold in your laughter, but the way she had acted big  only to end up falling caused both of you to break. Once the both of you were seated, he didn’t even think twice before he said, “I didn’t expect myself to become hot and bothered by you tonight, baby. Especially by that.”

> Jung Hoseok (J-Hope/Hobi) 

He hates confrontations, even if he’s a bystander. He’d be surprised at first by your aggressiveness towards the girl, but then he’d remember that it was one of the reasons you had caught his attention. As much as he’d love to see the fight go down, he didn’t want to give you the chance of swinging or insulting the girl. Since he’s respectful, he’ll apologize to the girl on behalf of you, even if she’s the one at fault, and that enrages you every time. You were already fuming over the fact this girl spoke shit about BTS, but Hobi apologizing to her had caused you to shift your anger towards him. He had a steady hold around your arm, but you still managed to pull out of his grip and angrily brushed past him. He gave you a couple of minutes to cool down because he knows you’re mad to the point you’ll swing at anybody that tries to speak to you, especially him. He came up a few minutes later and said, “I know you’re mad at me, baby. You don’t have to say yes, but why don’t we go home and have a little fun of your own?”

> Park Jimin 

The way you’d fire back at someone if they dare to speak bad on Jimin’s name always gave him a thrill. He won’t stop you unless he thinks you blew a gasket for no absolute reason. He also doesn’t bother to stop you from beating a bitch up if he hates her guts. In this case, the girl on the receiving end of your brawl was none other than Twice’s Jeongyeon. When you followed closely behind Jimin, past the beautiful Twice idols, you heard Jeongyeon mumble, “Disgusting,” under her breath. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned your attention towards her, untwining your hands from Jimin’s.

“Please. If you’re going to talk shit speak up.” Jimin saw how your relaxed face had molded to fit an angry expression and how intimidating your voice had gotten. He noticed how quickly your dominant attitude had turned him on, and that’s because he’s usually the dominant one in bed, so you barely get a chance to show this side. He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw a chunk of Jeongyeon’s black extensions fly past his face. He didn’t know how long he’d been lost in his train of dirty thoughts, but it was enough time for you to drag Jeongyeon to the ground before you began clawing at her. As the security guards rushed to pull Jeongyeon away from your death grip, Jimin pulled you into his embrace and had you locked into place. He excused both of you from the scene before he sat you down in your assigned seat. You noticed how he had a sly smirk splayed across his face, but before you can question him, he whispered, “I’m curious to find out if I can handle this heated side of you in bed.”

> Kim Taehyung (V)

He loves drama. He’d even take part in one if he hears his name come up once. For you, he’d just stay back and watch how his girl would rip someone badly if they ever did something with bad intentions. He felt more dominant when he sees your aggressive side because there’s no way he’d allow you to win an argument or fight against him. If you fought another person, he’d just rest back and watch what happens. He’s seen you blow a punch at a man, instantly knocking him out, so he doesn’t worry about you losing a fight. Another incident where he saw you throw hands at a female idol was at the MAMA’s show. You were minding your own business when someone came up to Taehyung and said, “Don’t be full of yourself just because you were ranked #1 as the most handsome Kpop idol.”

He was surprised at her words at first, but then began laughing because she was unaware of what she just started. You stepped in between her and Taehyung and were all up in her face.

“Repeat that.” When you noticed her hold her breath, you thought that was the end of that situation, but she provoked you by repeating her saying. To make it worse for herself, she annunciated the words ‘full of yourself’, almost standing on her tiptoes to reach your eye level. You let out a dry chuckle before you tried swinging, but Taehyung got in front of you, stopping you from fighting for the first time. When your eyes met his for a second, you noticed how dilated his dark brown pupils, but you were too concentrated on landing your blows. You tried to move around him to try to get the girl, but he kept moving with you. When he couldn’t restrain you for any longer, he just threw you over his shoulders and brought you to the nearest restroom. Thankfully, the women’s restroom was empty, so you were able to pace around like a mad man. You heard the click of the door locking and noticed how Taehyung’s fingers were playing with his belt buckle. He slowly made his way to you, not breaking his deep gaze at you. He glanced down at his crotch before he looked at you and gruffly whispered, “You have to fix this problem first, baby.”

> Jeon Jungkook 

He’s the type to lay back and watch what unveils in front of him. If he thinks you’re going to make a blood bath, he’ll be quick to pull you away, unless he thinks the bitch deserves it. If that’s the case, then he’ll just be your own hype man and he’ll instruct you on how to swing and what move to pull. He’ll try his best to avoid any incident that would cause you to react this way, but he couldn’t do anything this time because the bitch you were referring to was his celebrity crush, IU. He didn’t think much of it when IU began running her hands over his muscular arms, but when he noticed you glaring at him, he was quick to push her away and politely told her that he’s uncomfortable. She still insisted on touching him, so you decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. When Jungkook saw you storm past the others towards IU, he quickly managed to get between you both, dragging you away to avoid an MMA fight at the MAMA’s show.

“As much as I wanted to see how that played out, I can’t afford to let you mess up that precious face for me, baby.”

*requests are open

[tinyboxxtink]

“Sharky” *Part 2*

Don’t hate me because Barba is kind of a dick right now. We all know he’s not-- but we need the drama. <3

Part 1

Part 3

Tag List:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@gibbs274

@dumauier

@wanniiieeee

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

@aprildecker-blog

---------

“So he actually asked you to dinner?” 

“Yeah, but it’s probably some weird tactic to get inside my head,”

“Is he cute?” 

“Why does that matter?”

“Honey it always matters.”

Alright, so you had one friend. One best friend. One very best friend that you’d known since law school. But nobody needed to know that.

“....Yeah, I’d say he’s pretty attractive,” You finally admitted as you reheated your leftovers.

“Oh my God you’ve had sex dreams about this man haven’t you?!” He squealed.

“HOW do you do that?!” You stared at the phone in disbelief.

“It’s a gift,” He laughed. “I can hear the lust in your voice,”

“Whatever,” You grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“So what are you going to wear?” 

“I don’t know, I’ll decide in the moment,” You sat down on your couch and started catching up on your shows with your food and beer.

“Oh no no no, you need to wear your silver dress with those platinum earrings I bought you for Christmas,”

“Seriously, Charles? Are you going to come over and do my hair and make up too?” You chuckled sarcastically as you shoved low mien in your face.

“Do you want me to?” 

“I’m hanging up now,”

“Wait wait wait,” He pleaded and you listened.

“Be nice to him, honey,” 

“I’m always nice,” You stated in an offended tone.

“You’re cordial. Be nice-- Smile, flirt. Have a good time,” You heard his sweet intentions through the phone; it was like he was actually being a caring best friend.

“You make it sound like a date,”

“Well that all depends if you fuck him after,” There he was.

“I’m really hanging up now,”

“Call me after!”

-----

You went with the silver dress and black pumps-- just because Charles had put the idea in your head, not because it was the outfit you looked best in. You stepped out of your Uber in front of the restaurant: 

“Forlini’s” You read out loud. “...This place better not be expensive,” 

You went inside and noticed Barba was already at the bar so you walked over to join him.

 “Hey, Sharky!” His greeting caused an eye roll from you. 

“Seriously can we drop the name? I’m a woman not a fish,” You took a bar stool next to him.

“...Well then you probably shouldn’t have worn that,” He nodded.

“Excuse me?”

“You look like a shark to me,” He gestured to your silver dress; it was tight on the top and kind of flowed down your legs, like a fish tail. You had never noticed it before, but him pointing it out made it suddenly glaringly obvious.

“Alright guppy, what are you drinking?” You smirked, slipping into the bar stool next to him.

“Guppy…” Now he rolled his eyes with a smile. “Scotch, neat,” 

“I’ll have what he’s having, only stronger,” You instructed the bartender, causing an even bigger eye roll from Barba.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“Thank you,” You beamed proudly.

The bartender returned with your drink; you noticed that he was very young and very good looking. You slipped him a $20 with a sly smile. 

“Keep the change, handsome,” You gave him a wink. He looked between the two of you, confused as to why you’d be flirting shamelessly with him in front of Barba.

“We’re not together,” You said very loudly.

“Wow, don’t say it so eagerly,” 

“Hey I might need some stress relief after this interrogation, I’m just covering my bases,” You smirked, still eyeing the bartender.

“Is that what you think this is?”

“What else is a first date if not an interrogation?” You suddenly realized what you had said and to your dismay you saw Barba caught it too.

“Ah so this IS a date,” He smirked.

“..I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant--” You stumbled over your words as Rafael just smiled at you in amusement. 

“Just shut up and ask your questions, I know you have a list of them” You shook your head dismissively. 

“Not a list…” He nodded to the bartender for another round. “Alright well why did you choose to be a defense attorney?”

“Money,” You replied without a pause. 

“Money? Really?” He asked with a judgey tone. 

“Hey you try growing up dirt poor and see how much you appreciate having money,” You snapped.

“I did, and I do; but it doesn’t run my life,” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“It doesn’t run my life,” You knocked back the rest of your scotch, ready for the new one.

“Really? Then tell me, how do you pick your cases?” He raised an eyebrow.

“My boss gives them to me,” You didn’t see the big deal.

“Uh huh and how does he order them?” He was making a point, you knew he was.

“...By the biggest paycheck for the firm,” You finally admitted.

“Uh huh,” He nodded smugly, sipping his new scotch.

“Look Barba I already told you this, defense lawyers are unfeeling monsters. What else do you want me to say?” You scoffed. 

“Is that the only reason you became one?” He smirked at you.

“No, actually it’s not,” You replied as you sipped your own scotch.

“Really? Why else?” He raised his eyebrows curiously.

“Because any law student out of night school can defend a good guy,” You inched closer to his face. 

“Defending a bad guy is a challenge,” You pulled back and noticed he was still smirking, and he added an approving nod.

“Fair enough,” 

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I mean you make a good point,” He scanned you up and down. “Everybody loves a challenge,” 

You felt yourself blush as his eyes ran over you, your own eyes surveying his entire body. You would never admit it to anyone, but you did always have a thing for the ADA-- not like “doodle hearts in your notebook” thing, but when he’d do his crosses in court you’d always stare at his perfect ass in those chinos and wonder what it would be like to take a bite out of it. 

Some other days, particularly when he wore the black and pink suit, you’d imagine what it would be like to just shove him onto his little offensive desk and fuck him right there in the courtroom, with everyone watching. You were so lost in your own fantasies that you didn’t notice people approaching you-- 

“Rafa?” An all too familiar voice came from the side of the room. You turned to see Rafael’s rag tag bunch of misfit detectives staring at you.

“Olivia,” Rafael said softly like a kid caught out after curfew.

“So this is why you couldn’t come out with us, because you were taking HER out?” Olivia spat.

“Um excuse you, I’m taking HIM out,” You grabbed Rafael’s hand and put it on your knee.

“NOBODY is taking ANYBODY ‘out’,” Rafael snapped his hand back and gave you a dirty look. 

“Liv it’s just a friendly dinner, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to have this conversation,” He gave her those pathetic apologetic eyes, like a puppy who had just peed on the rug.

“Why do you care anyway, detective?” You asked innocently. You knew she had cream in her panties with his name on it, and you weren’t afraid to call her on it. 

“Excuse me?” She scoffed with a laugh. “I care because he’s my best friend, and he doesn’t need to be manipulated by you,”

“Really? Me manipulating him?” You smirked and stood up off your bar stool and got real close to her face. “Then why did he ask me out?”

Olivia stared in horror at you, then Barba, then threw up her hands and stomped off. Carisi, Rollins and Fin all muttered goodbyes and dashed out behind her.

“Why would you do that?!” He looked like he wanted to go after her, but he was staying to have it out with you.

“Why would I--? Are you serious, Barba?!” You continued standing, now crossing your arms. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What?” He looked confused but you weren’t buying it.

“You asked me here on purpose,” You narrowed your eyes.

“Well obviously it was on purpose--” He tried playing it off.

“No no, don’t be cute. You asked me here with an agenda,” You inched closer to him.

“What? Oh come on Sharky not everyone is you, with your ulterior motives--” He glanced around nervously.

“MY ulterior--?! You asked me here to make your little work wife jealous!” You were making a scene now, but you didn’t care.

“What? I most certainly did NOT--” He tried defending himself.

“Then why did you ask me to come to the same restaurant you knew they were going to be at? I mean if you didn’t ‘want’ to be caught. I know you’re not that stupid,”

“I forgot,” He muttered softly.

“You FORGOT? Do you really think I’m that stupid? I’m not Olivia,” You crossed your arms again.

“DON’T talk about her,” He growled.

“Oh my god are-- are you on something?!” You threw your hands up. “You clearly have a thing for that woman, and yet you asked me out to parade me in front of her, for why?” You threw your hands up in frustration. 

“I didn’t ask you out for that Y/N, I swear--” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Then WHY did you ask me out?”

“I-I don’t know…” Now he turned those apologetic eyes on you, but you weren’t falling for it like his little detective.

“You’re fucking unbelievable, you know that?” Tears were forming in your throat against your wishes; you would not let this fucker see you have emotions.

“You know you offense lawyers, you sit up there on your moral high horses, judging all of us “bottom feeders”. But I would never fuck with anyone’s emotions or their heart, Barba. That’s just cruel,” 

“I thought you didn’t have a heart,” He was still going for the quips, he had some balls you’d give him that.

“Oh so that’s what this was,” You sucked back the tears as you tried to laugh it off. 

“You wanted to fuck with the big bad Sea Witch, see if she had a heart?”  You really couldn’t believe he was this vindictive. This whole time you thought, maybe....well, you didn’t know what. But you were clearly mistaken.

“No, I’m sorry I was just--” He stood up and tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you jerked away.

“Well guess what, Barba? You win! You made the shark cry. Are you happy?” You couldn’t hold the tears anymore as you yelled. 

“Y/N I’m sorry, I really am--” He tried going for your hand, but you slapped him across the face.

“Don’t follow me,” You warned him as you turned and stormed out of the restaurant.

How could you have been so wrong about him? Why did you even care?

[yongiefilms]

FILM | Together Alone

BASED ON | The NCT secret santa collaboration feature done by bumblebeenct and lucaswithnoshirt studios over @neoculturechristmas​ headquarters 

DEDICATED TO | My own precious secret santa, @sly-merlin​! This one is for you my love. I hope I did you justice for the type of fic you requested and I hope you like it! By the way I apologize for getting your present to you late.

STARRING | Huang Renjun and Female Reader

FEATURING | Lee Donghyuck 

GENRE | Romance, Drama, Angst, Fluff, Business centred, and Holiday centred

RATING | PG-13

WARNINGS | Thematic elements, suggestive references and implications, crude humor, language, mentions of death, a deceased parent, drinking, alcohol, and other adult themes

PLOT | Everyone knew him. The heir to the multimillion dollar company. Next in line to inherit the top pharmaceutical business in all of China and South Korea. For being only 20 years old he was the most accomplished person of his age. Set to become the CEO at age 21 on his birthday, nearly a few months away, there was nothing that could deter him down the road for further success. They say he’s envied by most, yet loved all the same. If only people knew who Huang Renjun really was without his family’s name plastered against the walls of society that gave him fame and fortune. Only one would have the chance to find out the truth of his reality and sometimes when that comes near the end of a year shutting close, not everything can end pleasant like one hoped. OR Happy endings might not exist in this messed up world.

RUNNING TIME | 6.4k

DIRECTOR’S NOTE | Happy Holidays, my loves! This work is in honor of you all and the amazing year you all gave me with your immense love as well as support. I appreciate every single one of you more than you will ever know so I wish happy days among you this season and new year. I love you and please enjoy! Also, shout out to my lovely proofreader, @dvrlingrenjun​, you’re the best.

1, 2, 3 Now Rolling...

“Fuck them all!” Huang Renjun yells out in frustration, leaning back abruptly in his black cushioned chair, his hands clutching tightly at his dark strands of hair.

The younger boy smirks at him, leaning against the pillar by his office. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

A glare was sent in his direction in retaliation. “Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“Sure, big guy,” he dismisses, the jab made at the older visible with the way his words cut through the air. “Still doesn’t render the fact that you have to go to this event like you always do.”

Renjun groans, his right hand going around his left wrist to play with the gold Cartier bracelet that rested there. A gift given to him when he turned the legal age of eighteen a few years ago. A gift given to him by his father, on behalf of his mother or so it was said. One that was a promise of luxury and achievement if he continued down the path they set out for him. His decision then when he was an adult to decide his fate, but that was only a lie. The bracelet was only a bribe for a materialistic life where he could be well off and if he stepped away then he would be stripped of everything that made him who he was. 

“I know, okay? We do it every year but that still doesn't take away from the fact that I hate it. I hate all of it.”

Perhaps his father was a part of that.

“Well,” Donghyuck drawls, shrugging his shoulders when he lifts his body off the pillar to take long strides in order to reach the other boy. “At least it’s out of town this year so I’m down...I mean free vacation.” He gives a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling of juvenescence and a thrill for adventure, mystery, excitement. At least one of them still had a childlike soul and a more or less normal life while the other was forced to grow up too fast in the spotlight where eyes were scrutinizing his every move before he could even walk.

They called it maturity, but Renjun calls it loss of youth. 

“You’re such a freeloader,” Renjun mutters, his hands stopping from playing with the bracelet to glance up in exasperation.

“Says the boy inheriting an almost billion dollar company without batting an eye,” Donghyuck snorts with an eye roll, picking at his nails that now gained all of his attentiveness.

It was true after all.

Renjun laughs in mockery. “You’re just jealous, so I wouldn’t be talking if I were you.”

Donghyuck sighs loudly for effect. “Cous, I wouldn’t want your life even if I tried. Some horrifying shit.” He shakes his head, obviously disturbed by the notion.

Renjun’s voice becomes small, yet firm. “It isn’t that bad...”

Donghyuck finally stops twiddling with his fingers to give the other the time of day with a look of obvious reluctance. “Uncle is scary, can you blame me?”

“Guess not, that man is my father.”

“Exactly and as much as I would love to continue this conversation,” Donghyuck glances at his crisp navy steel Bulgari watch, seeing the time half past noon. “I got to run, meeting with the boys soon and I just needed to deliver the message before that. Little pit stop if you will.” His hands flair out in a theatrical motion as if he were giving a bow.

“Oh?” Renjun raises an eyebrow, hands reaching out to get started on the stack of papers placed at the edge of his desk by his receptionist before Donghyuck’s surprised arrival. “Say hi to them for me.” He pauses in afterthought, knowing the younger’s antics. “Or not.”

Donghyuck’s boisterous laugh rings. He knew him so well. “Very funny, but oh, wait!” 

The increase in his tone attracts the older’s regard who was beginning to read through the proposal. “Yes?”

“Here,” Donghyuck states, reaching into the back pocket of his chinos to pull out a small black velvet box with gold edging. “An early present of sorts. I assumed you might like it.” He slides the box over on the desk where it is caught in the grasp of delicate hands.

“Proposing are we? You know we are related right?” Renjun smiles snidely, running his fingers over the soft velvet in wonder. It was rare to get a gift from Lee Donghyuck himself and with the right intentions at that. 

“It would be an honor and privilege to marry me, thank you, but no it’s just...open it when I leave. I’m not into that sappy shit as you know. I have a matching one too, but yeah merry early Christmas and New Years.” His easy grin widens as he winks to take backward steps to the exit of the office. Always one for a dramatic flare.

“Matching...we can’t be a couple either, Hyuck,” Renjun says, shaking his head while he puts the box down on his desk in wait.

Donghyuck flips him off and grits out a reply. “Shut up and be grateful for once.”

Turning his head back to his papers, he mutters, “Oh, I am.”

“Anyways, bye you fucker. Don’t drown in work,” Donghyuck lets out once he turns his back.

“Thank you for caring, delivery boy,” Renjun shouts as his cousin finally opens the door to exit after his much longer than anticipated stay.

Donghyuck’s hands still on the silver knob before he can fully push the door. “When don’t I? If you’re gone then that means I would have to inherit the company and as much as I would love the money, the fame, the attention, maybe even the girls...I don’t want that responsibility. You get me?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, spinning the black ballpoint pen between his index and ring finger. “Just say you’re lazy and go.”

“I am going!” Donghyuck exclaims while he turns his head over his shoulder, shooting the boy sitting at the desk that didn’t quite fit him well, another wink. “Bye for real, Junnie!”

The door at last closes and he is gone in a blur of colors.

Renjun mumbles under his breath. “I told you not to call me that.” 

His mother used to call him that and she didn’t have the chance to stay long in this world. Taken too soon is what they say, but maybe she was blessed before everything turned to stone. 

With Donghyuck’s departure, Renjun looks over at the lone box that was gifted to him, perhaps not a gift like the others that held no meaning, for this one was an outlier in the equation. Donghyuck never gave without meaning or gain so it had to be special.

He places his pen down and picks up the box, undoing the clasp that held it close. The box opens to a sight he has gotten used to, yet there was a disparity. In between the cushion of the velvet laid a beautiful silver Chopard ring. The band was simple in design, yet intricate with the signature ice cubes filled with small sparkling diamonds across the entire width. Renjun handles the ring with care once it is taken out of the box to inspect every detail. Not only was the brand engraved in stunning cursive on the inside, but Donghyuck had gotten the ring customized with the word family in the same writing on the opposite side of the inner circle. 

Renjun runs his fingers over the engraving, the words rough under his calloused hands. He hums in thought as he slips the ring on his middle finger, the radiance seeping in from the windows catching the precious metal. “Family...family...I haven’t had one in a long time.”

The truth is he had, has, but he was too blind to see. 

Family is not just those that are immediate, composing of a father and mother or even siblings. Family can also entail the greater extent from cousins to aunts to grandparents. Family can even be those that are not blood related like the friends a person surrounds themselves by. 

Renjun has family. If only he could acknowledge them before they too left him utterly alone. 

Alone was something Renjun was not for the days to come. 

A week later after his cousin delivered the news about the annual holiday vacation and company sponsored events that his family has been hosting since his late teen years, he was flown in a private plane against his will to a remote town near Busan, far off from the heart of Seoul. He would rather spend the holidays in the city where he grew up like all those past seasons ago, but his father decided there was a need for change, a mirror of one forthcoming in virtually three months. Usually those that made the trip came for the designated three days they were given which still involved work communications with scant room for relaxation depending on the schedules of selected individuals. However, if one was a Huang, which Renjun was the only one left along with his father that were at least part of the business, then departure and stay differed. Intermingled was the Huang winter vacation with that of business affairs, a factor that was born when the tradition started. His father always said to kill two birds with one stone when given the chance and this very situation was one he took hold of to morph into a personal gain. 

Nothing was ever as it seemed with his father, nor himself. One characteristic they shared among a hundred to a thousand polarities.

Albeit this time around, Renjun had fought against his father’s wants, which was not the first instance, but was one that ended in surprising success. Success he tasted on the daily, even if all was bitter with no room for happiness. However, this success was sweet with contentment, ending with an awfully horrid aftertaste. Convincing his father to fly him out along with the others on the 23rd of December instead of the 20th was a victory no less. At least he didn’t have to spend unwanted days in the presence of his old man longer than necessary. 

He arrives in wealth and social standing like he always did for once his black A.Testoni dress shoes hit the white tiled floor of the airport’s general aviation ramp building, everyone within his general vicinity, even those afar, are taking heed to his every need, that as of now are limited. 

A slightly older woman who he deems as his assistant, comes into view, her black Prada heels clicking loudly against the tile as she advances with a clipboard and her trusty cell in her hands to the boy. She cheerful speaks into the empty building, her smile unwavering. “Mr. Huang, I am glad you had a safe flight. I printed your itinerary for the next couple of days that I will hand to you once we are in the limo. Considering it is…” She glances at her Apple Watch Series 6 to check the time. “Two forty three as of now, we can drop off your luggage at the Lodge and get you settled into your room before your three fifteen lunch with Mr. Kim and his wife at the Yongsusan Café. You will be with them for an hour before the rest of the afternoon is yours to spend productively. Then at six o’clock the maids and stylists will come by to get you ready for the business meeting at seven thirty, following with a small dinner party with those same individuals, including their wives and children. Sounds good?”

Renjun does not even have time to reply before his assistant speaks again. 

“Yes, okay! Let’s get going then.” She turns on her heel abruptly, yet with expertise without room for error and begins taking steps away from the plane to the left. “The limo should be this way, follow me while your luggage gets loaded. The drive should not take more than ten minutes.” 

He has no choice but to accompany her as he would not be able to make a run for it, he will be caught within seconds. He tried once and that was only one failure amongst little to none in his book. 

His strides are slow and lousy as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased, when he in fact did not, far from it in actuality. Even so before he knows it he reaches the limo and is lurched forward in motion towards his destination for the next few days. The place his dad selected oozes with sumptuous intent, being a gorgeous mid-century modern wooden lodge that nearly looked like a manor upon inspection. As the limo pulls up to the front, Renjun is able to see the beauty up close that he is entranced by even if he seems unfazed. New places and people excite him more than he lets on for his life is dull, lacking fulfillment of an unknown tomorrow. 

The porter, who is situated in patience by the front doors, strides forward to open the door of the limo, permitting Renjun to step out with the authority and grace bestowed upon him. 

When he crosses the threshold into the Lodge he is met with an even better interior that rivaled that on the outside, but he is not allowed to ponder too much on the design before the head manager greets him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Huang, it is certainly a pleasure for you to stay with us at the Lodge this fine holiday season. I am Gwan Jang-Mi and I will be showing you to your room today along with giving you a small tour of this place in order to familiarize yourself with the setting. If you look here to your left…”

Her speech is drowned out into obscurity as Renjun’s awareness shifts to another woman, one so stunning that he is surprised he did not take notice sooner. When sauntering through the entryway into the resting room that will be cleared out in the next couple of hours, a bar is situated to the left where you stand, arranging countless bottles of liquor to wine on the counter, no doubt for the little party later or for the meeting. Those men were heavy drinkers and needed alcohol to make it through the rest of the evening. Renjun did drink to drown his sorrows, worry, and anxiousness away, but he was not one to throw himself down a spiraling hole of darkness nor chaos that he could not get out of, for those consequences were ones he did not want to reap.

The soft sunlight peaks through the high guarded windows, shining down on your face that enunciates your features. For simply being in a black polo and khaki pants, you made it work and drew all attention to yourself without even knowing the power you held. 

The moment of admiration comes to a close when Renjun is ushered away from the ground floor to make way to his room in the upper levels, leaving you behind.

Yet that would not be the last time.

Time goes by slowly when there is no purpose, no meaning to the daily workings of one person in the masses of others. Renjun has experience in that regard, time always goes by slowly for him and exhausts him a great deal like a rotary clock that seeks no end. 

He was worn out by the time he got back to the Lodge in the early evening due to the stay with the Kims went longer than necessary and he was called elsewhere upon emergency to discuss future matters. He did not have time for himself like his assistant had plainly made known so there he was, collapsed head first into his silk covers, ten minutes to six. 

Instead of taking a long awaited nap he is ushered up and into more formal wear after a cleanse from the bustle of bodies that barge into his room. 

No privacy. No sense of normality. 

That is the normal. 

The next few hours go by in blur from him sitting in front of a mirror to have his hair styled to sitting in front of burly old men that were associates and inventors of the company in a grad meeting room with locked doors and the finest assortment of liquor that money can buy. 

He is out of the confines in no time, not even bothering to say one final hurrah before he lurches himself out the door and into the now cleared out resting room. One of the servers comes by then dressed in all black attire that was nothing of the typical black and white uniform, edging towards a usual guest. Renjun snatches a glass of sparkling champagne and gulps it down in one go off their silver platter, discreetly of course, for he has to look composed—sober throughout the entire affair. He always could hold his alcohol without a problem and he felt blessed to have that advantage. One thing he is proud of. 

He is whisked away not even moments after by one of the older investors, Mr. Han, to moreover chew over the end of the year budget and his stance on future decisions to be made in the new year. From the corner of his eye while listening to the man talk in a flamboyant manner, he sees his father standing with a glass of white wine happily talking to another investor, a more influential one, the most influential one of them all and his wife along with their daughter who was not even carefully surveying the room in search of someone.

Renjun’s eyes widen in shock, mumbling under his breath, “Shit.”

Mr. Han stops the flow of words out his mouth, his eyebrows rumpling together. He did not hear the swear word the boy uttered, yet he heard something in passing. “Pardon?”

Renjun shakes his head vaguely, bringing his third glass of champagne in the air as a sign of departure. “Ah excuse me, Mr. Han, but it seems I have been beckoned elsewhere.” His eyes shift over to his father who was not making direct eye contact with him, but Mr. Han did not need to know that little detail as he observes Renjun’s line of sight. 

Mr. Han chuckles brightly. “I see, well I must not keep you from your father.”

Renjun smiles. “No, you must not, but we shall continue this conversation later, Mr. Han. I am sure you have much more to say and I will happily discuss further with you.”

Mr. Han waves his hand in the air nonchalantly. “We shall. Now off you go.” 

Renjun nods his head, his lips still quirked up in a smile, this one more genuine than the last, as he makes a beeline towards his father to make everything seem more believable. Though once he no longer feels the eyes of Mr. Han on his retreating back he switches routes, going to the left rather than straight ahead. He circles around the opposite side, catching a stark mop of washed out red hair amongst the crowd in the process—Donghyuck. His cousin is not alone, however, talking rather freely with a girl he could not quite see in his peripheral vision. The grin on Donghyuck’s face is undeniable even with his back turned and the way Renjun hears the tiny giggles you are emitting, all is too familiar, which is the perfect cause for a disruption.

Renjun does not acknowledge his cousin when he arrives at the bar, the younger boy too immersed in conversation so he signals for the other worker that comes becking to his call. 

“A Negroni, on the rocks.”

The girl nods in understanding and turns to prepare the drink while Donghyuck still has not noticed his presence. The younger boy always did focus on what was in front of him rather than on his surroundings, contrary to his cousin that saw the whole picture. Two contrasting people surely with unlike futures ahead of them. 

The frosted glass with the reddish-orange liquid and topped with orange shavings is served to him a minute later, placed in front of him on a matching glass coaster.

He clears his throat loudly in an attempt to catch Donghyuck’s attention. “Thank you.” 

A method that proves effective since the younger boy finally turns his head to the right to see Renjun sitting on the barstool next to him, sipping casually on his high class Negroni. 

His eyes are wide, but he masks his shock with a subtle smirk. “Jun! Well, well, if it isn’t the mini man himself. How long have you been sitting there?” 

Renjun snorts into his glass, shaking his head at the dig Donghyuck made at his height, always one out for blood. “Far too long to have noticed your flirting from across the room, Hyuck.” It is now his turn to smirk, but Donghyuck’s own is still unfaltering.

“I take pride in my skills, glad you gave your time of day to notice.” He elevates his glass up then, filled most likely with a Nicolashka, his favorite holiday drink to date, and takes a sip himself, a move Renjun mimics.

Then your voice interrupts. “Sorry to cut in, but I have to get back to work. You’ve been distracting me for the last ten minutes, mister.” Your stern gaze is directed at Donghyuck from the latter statement. Although once your words are uttered, Renjun focuses his eyes on you, scrutinizing your appearance. The very girl he saw earlier today, the girl Donghyuck so happened to have a chance with before him—you.

Donghyuck laughs, the smirk morphing into a shiteating grin. “I told you, call me Hyuck.”

“Well, Hyuck, I have to get back to work...plus I am sure you want to talk to your friend.” Your gaze flickers to Renjun in that instance and lingers there longer than necessary that has him laughing to himself. 

Donghyuck’s charm only goes so far. 

The younger boy peers at Renjun when you utter out friend, and he smiles small in remorse. “Sadly, but do not let me keep you from your work.”

You turn your back on him, your eyes catching Renjun’s in the process before you look away from the intensity of the dark orbs. “I wasn’t planning on it.” 

You leave the bar area then most likely to put on an apron that Renjun noticed you had not worn throughout the entire duration. Donghyuck simply distracted you before the start of your shift and after, not a good trait to inherit. 

Donghyuck hums, but let’s the remark go as he fully turns to Renjun to start up that conversation. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Must you always keep me from having fun?” 

Renjun shrugs his shoulders, swishing the liquid in his glass. “Not always, but I was saving that girl from misery. You should be thankful that I care enough.” 

Donghyuck taunts. “Oh wow I feel so special.”

Renjun sternly eyes him, his voice lowering. “You should.”

Donghyuck’s lips open to retort a response, but no words are spoken on his end for his eyes look over the older boy’s shoulders and he catches sight of someone none of them truly like or have liked after the incident. He sees her.

“Well fuck, here comes the devil,” is all he makes out and the phrase enough has Renjun turning his own head hastily to see who he was watching. Such is when he sees his ex-girlfriend, Cha Yeona, prowling straight towards their way.

“I’m going to go...so good luck, mate. You’ll need it.” Donghyuck pats Renjun’s shoulder in departure and his gesture of sympathy, leaving him in the wake of a girl he really did not wish to see or converse with. 

Once he leaves the bar in quick speed, you come in at that exact moment, your eyes zoning in on the way Yeona’s dainty hand latches onto Renjun’s forearm in greeting. You turn away from the image, busying yourself with wiping down the glasses. 

“Oh! What a lovely surprise,” Yeona voices, letting her hand maneuver down to place on top of Renjun’s hand in which she gives him a faint squeeze thereof. He flinches from the contact, retracting his hand to slip into the pocket of his Burberry blazer while the other rims his glass. 

He peers at her intently, a potency that has her giggling nervously. His looks could kill whenever he was serious with a blank face and austere hollows of eyes. “Hello, Yeona.”

She sits down gracefully on the stool next to him, crossing her long unblemished legs over each other, her hands placed in her lap. Her smile is bright and makes him want to pull out his hair. She was always two-faced. “Hi Jun Jun! How have you been?”

He lets the pet name go, but does not glance at her again, looking over her head at the white lights strung outside. “Good.”

Silence engulfs them that has her fidgeting out of discomfort. He evidently did not want to talk. She reaches her hand out to touch him once more that has him leaning away. She sighs in defeat, retreating from the gesture. She would have to reach him some other way. “Well...I—”

He cuts her off from continuing, drowning the last contents of his drink before he pushes the glass away towards the server at the end of the counter. He puts a hand up. “Save it. I have no reason to talk to you again. Leave.” 

He arches his eyebrow when he sees she makes no move to leave and he chuckles darkly. “Do I have to tell you again? Or should I have security escort you out?”

She flinches from the tone of his voice and gulps, her throat becoming exceptionally dry. She hurriedly stands up, almost ripping over her heels and departs without a goodbye, not that he wished to get one from her. Her slim body covered in a blood red dress slips into the crowd and Renjun finally releases the breath he was holding. 

He tugs at the strands of his gelled back hair. “Fucking bitch,” he mutters, lifting a finger in the air to signal for another drink that the server speedily moves to make. 

“A little harsh, don’t you think?”

Renjun lifts his eyes to see you gaping at him, an eyebrow uplifted in fascination as you finally were in your uniform, a white cloth draped over your shoulders. Renjun runs his hand through his hair and scoffs from the remark thereafter. He was sure the stylists would be upset to see him dishevel their mighty work, but he could care less.

He shakes his head, the strands of hair rustling. “No, I think not. She deserves it.”

“Wow. Again, harsh.” You laugh mockingly and grab his drink that was slid over by your coworker to clean the glass again. You place the beverage down on the coaster which he takes with pleasure, muttering a small thank you that you can barely hear amidst the classical music playing in the background. Your hands make contact for a split second that has tingles erupting on your end, in a rather cliche response, yet he made no move of the feeling. 

There is quietness again that makes you flustered since you were never one to enjoy the muted scenery, always wanting a sound ringing in your ears. While Renjun enjoyed the still, always wanting a sound that faded in the wind and never made a comeback appearance. 

In a desperate attempt to keep conversation while making yourself busy by fixing up the bottles of alcohol, you propose a question that invades his privacy, whilst he never had privacy to begin with, a factor you were left in the dark about.

“So...um...your girlfriend?” You ask, in regards to Yeona that left some minutes ago. 

Renjun snorts, placing down his glass and interlocks his hand to rest his chin on, a move to focus solely on you. “Right. She’s my ex-girlfriend actually so you’re not entirely wrong.”

You mumble out a quiet, “Oh.” It was not your business to know his affairs after all, yet there was a voice nagging within that made you curious to find out every part of him.

The tranquility hugs the both of you once more, until he questions you out of the blue. 

“You want to get out of here?”

To say you are shocked is an understatement, since you are in fact bamboozled beyond belief. He says the declaration with so much firmness and certainty, it has your heart twisting on the inside.

You lightly laugh to mask the shock and turn around to really look at him, a look that he reciprocates. “I don’t even know you.”

A keen smile is visible on his lips. “Exactly the point. You have nothing to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning against the counter of the bar to stare into his eyes that look so lifeless, yet beautiful. “Maybe, but this is my job. I can’t just bail.” 

He leans his head closer to you, an act that allows you to a whiff of the Christian Dior Ambre Nuit cologne he wears and his minty fresh breath. “Of course you can.” His soothing voice turns teasing as he smirks. “Don’t worry I won’t tell.” 

You scoff to yourself, surprised by his mannerisms of outforwardness. You look around then to see if anyone is watching the two of you, but all eyes are elsewhere and you let out a sigh of relief. Another girl comes into the bar when you glance to the side, most likely to cover the next shift that was not yours quite yet, be that as it may you did have a break coming up. 

Renjun outstretches his hand in patience, his smirk slowly growing, even if it was borderlining a smile that you could see right through. He hums in anticipation and you give in.

“Okay fine, but not for too long,” you say as you rest your hand in his. The cold of your fingers meet his warm ones and you latch on for dear life, afraid to let go. 

He grins at you and squeezes your hand. “No promises.” 

Then he proceeds to drag you out of the bar, tugging you to who knows where. The tingle of a secret keeps you on your toes and you become giddy, laughing along the halls as he steers you left, right, straight, left, right, up...a never ending cycle of adventure.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” You ask after gaining the courage. He is intimidating in some regards, the thought of how he acted towards his ex-girlfriend as visible as day in your mind.

He shrugs, finally slowing down. “Who knows. Could be outside in the cold or near a fireplace in the warm. You will just have to see.”

“That certainly gives me no direction at all.”

He turns his head to look at you and stops suddenly, having you nearly crash into his back before he tugs you to the other side. He chuckles when he sees your horrified face from almost busting your nose. “That was the point, darling.”

You huff in annoyance when he continues walking, the pressure of his fingers around your own feels heavier as time drags on and your heart has no sense of calm, constricting with the name of endearment that slipped past his slim lips.

“Okay, we are here!” He announces and lets go of your hand, the bareness of his heat leaving you shivering. You take a step back from planting your feet firmly on the floor and glance around the room in which he stopped. It was one of the upper level rooms with strict access only to the most wealthy of the associates and investors. His family must be one of those highly regarded, if only you knew how highly regarded his family is, being the ones with the most status, the most affluent lifestyle. However, you would remain clueless.

“Oh, wow. The view up here is amazing.”

Renjun laughs, placing his hands in the front pocket of his slacks as he strolls around the room, glancing at the glowing fire that was left on and the books that were sealed shut. “Trust me, I am well aware. Why do you think I brought you up here?” He gives you an exasperated stare, peering past at the giant window you stood in front of that showcased the whole town, now covered in sleek white snow. It must have snowed while he was conversing with others at the party for when he arrived at the meeting hours ago, the land was void.

The white flakes are still falling outside, delicately covering everything in one uniform color that leaves you in awe and he is left admiring you, how at peace you are. How free you look, an emotion he never held onto in his entire life.

“So besides admiring this view, what are we doing up here?” You ask, your fingertips grazing the cool frosted glass of the window, seeing beyond to the endless landscape and twinkling stars along with lights of the houses nearby.

Renjun answers bluntly. “Admiring the view.”

You can’t stop the titters from escaping you and you roll your eyes, an action he sees through the reflection.

He steps forward, coming up besides your figure to look more clearly at the breathtaking scenery of a winter wonderland. “No, I’m joking...at least partially.” 

You giggle some more, interlocking your hands in front of you. “I didn’t know you had it in you to joke.”

It is now his turn to laugh. “Darling, I have a lot in me that you don’t know.”

You sigh solemnly, taking a step back to turn around, examining the other objects around the room. “Oh, I’m sure.” 

He is an enigma waiting to be unraveled, but you would not be the one to solve his case and that alone is an idea that scares you. 

Before you can get farther away, his hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from escape. You peer down at his hand then up to his eyes, your eyebrows scrunching together in perplexity.

He does not speak, only drags you into him to where you are now chest to chest, only an inch of distance between your bodies. The closeness between the two of you leaves you breathless and gasping for air. His thumb carrasses your arm and runs down to the palm of your hand, enveloping his fingers around your skin. Your eyes are trailing the movements and you take a sharp intake of breath, curious as to what can happen next. He hooks his other free index finger under your chin to lift your face up so he can see you in distinct luminosity.

You have gazed at his eyes practically all evening, but nothing has prepared you for seeing him up close. He is even more handsome in full definition from the lines on his soft pink lips to his perfectly tousled hair. 

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, his thumb running along your cupid’s bow. “Absolutely and breathtakingly beautiful.”

You gulp, the words drying up in your throat for what could you say to his compliment?

Then everything happens at once.

His hand moves to wrap around the back of your head and he tugs you closer by the other until you are pressed up against each other. He lightly pushes your head forward and contact is made. 

Lips against lips. Moving and moving against each other, taking all your breath away for the second time within a span of a few seconds. 

He lets go of holding your hand and wraps his arm around your waist, to pull you closer if such is even possible. To make the contact more tender and desirable.

You suppose desire is that which allows the moment to escalate further. From a mere innocent kiss to a fiery passion of craving for more. 

When your lips separate, he does not think twice before grabbing your hand once more and dragging you down the long corridor to arrive at his secluded room around the corner.

He opens the door with haste as you come tumbling in after him, grabbing, pulling, tugging until all that is left is just you and him.

The frantic beats of two hearts. 

The heat of skin pressed against skin. 

Simply two bodies that became one all due to the desire floating around the room and pushing you to the limit. 

You lost yourself in him that night and he in you. 

Lost to the pure ecstasy of pleasure during the season of joy and love.

Yet the season could also be one for giving and taking.

You wake to a cold bed the next morning.

Gone is the warmth of a boy who made you feel like you were on top of the world, someone special enough to demand notice and have anything that is asked for. 

Gone is the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear, the words of assurance, comfort, and false love that made you feel worth it and simply protected.

Gone is the long lingering touches of his fingers pressing into you and dancing along the lines of your body to explore and learn.

Gone is the feeling of his lips on your skin that was enough to ignite you ablaze and leave you seeing all the colors of the rainbow.

Gone is he—Huang Renjun. 

All that remains of the remembrance from the night is the note he left by the oak bedside table, one that crushed the dream of longing and hope within. One that slapped you with the crude reality of who he truly was, is, in a place that you did not belong to and never would. 

Thanks for last night, but it’s a one time thing. You can see yourself out. Happy holidays.

He signed the note with his initials, H.R. and his family’s embroidered seal. 

Then you realize in that moment, your bare body covered in his silk covers in the large suite he had all to himself, that the holidays are not for everyone. 

You can either be together with someone else or alone by yourself. 

Never the two. 

Always one or the other. 

You had hoped to be together yet alone with him in privacy to make your own memories away from prying eyes, but at the end of the day you were by yourself and he was too.

That is how life works in this sick, twisted world.

Men against men. Women against women. Everyone against everyone.

Alone.

Never together. 

Like he and you.

[fanmoose12]

this prompt lives in my head 24/7 - Levi and Hange accidentally go on a double date with Mike and Nanaba

Levi was confident he could do it. He was preparing for this for months. He kept track of Hange’s schedule, waiting for her day-off. He wrote a speech. It was romantic, funny and charming. He was sure Hange that would love it. To ensure that she would love it, he rehearsed it - once with Erwin and numerous times in front of the mirror in his room. He could do it, he knew he could.��

The day has finally come. The weather outside was nice, not too hot and not too cold, it was the perfect for the stroll around the town. Levi put on his best clothes, spent even more time on his hair than usual and then made sure that his cravat looked as elegant as possible. 

After he was dressed, he headed to Hange’s room. It was almost nine in the morning, and Levi was confident she wasn’t still sleeping. He asked Moblit to kick her out of the lab earlier last night and then he personally ensured that Hange got to bed at reasonable hour. He hoped she had rested well, and that she was in a cheerful, happy mood. If not, then Levi would do anything to make her happy. 

Tugging at his sleeve and fixing his jacket, he stopped for a moment, breathing in deeply. The door to Hange’s room seemed unusually big today. He felt as it was looming over him, and as he stared at it, he could see a pattern on a wood that looked almost like a face. A grinning, smug face that was judging his nervousness. 

Levi shook his head, mentally scolding himself for being ridiculous. Hange was probably rubbing off him. He took another breath and finally knocked on the door. 

“Wait!” he heard a shout from the other side.

Then he heard a loud boom, and Levi winced, realising that it was probably the sound of Hange falling on her ass. Another few seconds passed, and the door was finally opened, revealing a very disheveled, but smiling Hange. 

“Levi! What brings you here?” 

Levi stared at her, feeling his heart drop. The speech. He had forgotten it. He repeated it so many times in his head, but now he couldn’t remember a single word. He opened his mouth a few times, trying to say something. Nothing came out. 

“Levi?” Hange frowned. “Are you alright?” 

“The town,” he rasped. “Do you want to come?”

“Are you asking me to visit the town with you?” 

“Yes. The weather is nice.” 

Levi cringed at the awkwardness of this whole exchange. He ruined everything. He won’t be able to charm Hange anymore. There was no way she would agree to go on a date with him now. 

But Hange just grinned, her eyes bright. 

“Sure!” she said cheerfully. 

Levi felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She agreed!

“Just let me ask Nanaba and Mike, I heard they were going to the town too!” Hange added, before closing the door. 

It took Levi a few moments to realise the meaning of her words. Ask Nanaba and Mike? What for? And then it hit him - Hange didn’t realise he was asking her on a date. 

Levi hit his head against the wall, groaning in frustration. 

He fucked it all up.

***

“There is no need to look so grim,” Mike nudged him. 

Levi resisted to growl at him. Even if his invitation was a bit ambigous, Levi was  a man enough to admit it, it wasn’t only his fault that their date with Hange was ruined. Mike surely must have known that Levi had intended to ask her out for a long time now. Even though, Erwin was his only confidant, he had no doubt that the commander had shared this particular secret of his with Mike. The two fuckers took an immense joy in gossiping about his relationship with Hange. 

It infuriated Levi to no end. There was nothing obvious about his feelings to Hange. He himself became aware of them only some months ago.

And now, when he had finally gathered enough courage to confess, Mike had come and trumpled over all of his efforts. The moment they arrived in the town, Hange and Nanaba had ran away, visiting every shop on their path.

“Nanaba and I can leave,” Mike offered, sensing Levi’s anger. It was a really nice day after all. Mike would hate to die by Levi’s hands today. 

“It will only make things worse,” Levi grunted. “Hange would get upset that you left, or worse,” he sent a particularly fiery look to Mike. “She’d want to go with you.” 

An idea suddenly formed in Levi’s mind. Maybe, he could find a way to use Mike and Nanaba. He looked up at the tall man beside him, narrowing his eyes. 

“You and Nanaba are a couple, right?” he asked bluntly. 

“You know that we are.” 

“Can you act more like a couple?” 

“What? Levi, are you okay? I know that you’re upset-”

“Shut up,” Levi glowered. “I have a plan on how to fix it, but I need you and Nanaba to help. You’re a couple and you’re on a date. You have to make Hange realise it.” 

“Realise what?” Mike drew his eyebrows together, still confused. 

“That Hange and I are the same,” Levi huffed, his patiency running slim. “She has to realise that you’re not the only who are on a date. That we are on a date too, that we are,” he scowled, hating how the next word made him blush. “That we’re together.” 

“Oh,” Mike breathed, catching up to Levi’s intention. “So what? You propose we do something romantic?”

“Something like that, yes,” Levi crossed hands on his chest, looking grumpier than usual. 

“We can go to the gardens,” Mike scratched his chin. “You can pick up some flowers for Hange, it’d be a nice gesture.” 

Hange liked flowers, everyone knew that. Maybe, Mike wasn’t so useless after all. 

***

The idea to go to the gardens was a total, absolute disaster. 

There was nothing romantic in watching Hange crawl on the grass like a fucking cockroach, watching after disgusting, little bugs. Levi had to summon all of his strength to keep himself from gagging at the sight of those heinous creatures Hange brought to him. 

Well, at least she looked happy. And that was his primary goal, right? 

***

After gardens, they went to the market place, and there Levi tried to show Hange, just how nice and caring he could be. He bought her all the pastries she wanted, watched her every step so she wouldn’t trip and fall, took her by the hand when the crowd got too big. 

He didn’t even complain when Hange dragged him from one store to other. He was so good. 

Too bad Hange was too excited about their surroundings to spare him even a single glance. 

***

They decided to end their day with a delicious, hot meal at the cafe. 

It was a cosy, little place and the soft candlelight created a perfect romantic atmosphere. Soon after they ordered their food, the musicians came and began to play.

Mike nudged his foot under the table, subtly nodding at Hange.

“Nana, won’t you honor me with a dance?” Mike asked his beloved with a gallant smile. With a delighted chuckle, Nanaba placed her hand in his and together they left the table.

Levi watched, feeling envious. It came so easy to Mike, his interaction with Nanaba looked so effortless. Why couldn’t he do the same? 

Taking his eyes off a happy couple, Levi turned to Hange. Their eyes met and his heartbeat fastened. 

“Do you-” he gestured vaguely at Mike and Nanaba. “Do you want to join them?” 

Hange’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Are you inviting me for a dance, Levi?” 

“Sure,” he answered, feeling a lump in his throat. “Do you want to?”

“Of course!” Hange beamed. She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the center of the dance floor. She then put her arms around his neck, humming softly.

They started to move around. Levi kept staring at his feet, afraid that he’d step on Hange’s toe. And too nervous to look her in the eyes. 

Hange didn’t seem to mind. She laid her chin on his head, pressing closer. 

“I had so much fun today,” she spoke softly. “It was a perfect date, Levi.” 

Levi snapped his eyes to Hange’s face, watching it intently. So she knew? 

“I didn’t realise it at first,” she confessed with a chuckle. Levi’s surprised face was so amusing. 

“Then when did you? When did you realise that I had asked you out on a date?” 

“I had my first suspicion at the gardens, when you brought me a bouquet of daffodils with that constipated, embarrassed look on your face,” Hange’s eyes sparkled with mischief, as Levi’s gaze filled with annoyance. “But yeah, then you took my hand when we were at the market place, and I realised that... um,” she swallowed, her cheeks reddening. “I realised that it wasn’t just a friendly hang out.” 

“And?” Levi’s heart was beating so fast, he was afraid it’d jump out of his chest. “Do you wish... to repeat it? The date, I mean,” he added hastily, not wanting to create another misunderstanding. 

“I do,” Hange nodded eagerly. She pressed a kiss to Levi’s cheek. “But next time, just be more direct, okay?” 

Levi scowled, making Hange double with laughter. As he listened to her giggling, a smile appeared on his lips as well. 

Hange seemed so happy right now, and that meant that he had successfully reached his goal. 

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four - Part 7

Dapper wakes up beside Red disoriented and upset and decides to take him somewhere he barely remembers to help him come to terms with their situation.

Tws for hospitalization, bruising, manipulation, and imprisonment.

Part 7 - Aftermath

aether-mae asked: Ok ok hear me out Dok- what if you were to make a deal with Dark, for him to off a certain someone for you. That way he won’t hunt you anymore and you take the opportunity while he’s undertaking the deal to run away

Dok sits stroking Noodle, staring at the ceiling, lying across his bed. He has nothing else to do. Nothing to do but wait and think and wonder. His mouth parts. He looks young and casual in his boxers and t-shirt, his usual semblance of professionalism and normality having faded away with his stress and the torn white coat lying beside his bed.

“Oh, yes, that would work,” he mutters, a gleam coming back to his eyes. “If that Dark thing can kill Anti and we could turn them against him… I mean, Anti’s pretty fucking terrible, so it couldn’t be too hard to switch the side that Dark’s on, yeah? Unless they’re equally terrible… damn. But I think I’d ally with just about anyone at this point if they told me they could kill him. But who would even know how to do that?”

He sighs, shaking his head against his pillows, mussing his hair. He hasn’t eaten. He wants his siblings, all of them. All of the real ones. Safe and sound.

“Doesn’t someone have to know? Was there ever anyone? Did you ever know, back when you knew us, from before? Does Dapper remember anything? I have to find a way to make him stop hurting us…”

Anonymous asked: um. so hey dok! things are... stable for now. trick's alright, he's with anti, who did possess blue. red has a cut on his throat but trick said it wasn't lethal. dapper got hit pretty bad. they're both in the upstairs bathroom, um, sleeping/unconscious? they were just now coherent, though. anti is... not as angry as he could be, which is good at least! we're working on keeping everyone safe. i'm sure it's not been easy. how are you?

The door to the downstairs guest bedroom creaks open. Dok shoots up, staring at the entryway - and there, unharmed, is his twin.

“Trick,” breathes Dok, reaching out for him, and Trick has rarely looked as relieved to go crashing into his arms, halfway tackling him onto the bed.

“Is that all true?” asks Dok, muffled by the closeness. “Red’s not going to die? You’re okay? Dapper, what’s wrong with him? Where’s Blue?”

“Anti was still wearing Blue last I checked,” says Trick quietly. “I think I heard Red talking to Dap, but I’m not sure. He was pretty busted up, Dok. Are you alright?”

“No one touched me, Trick, I’m alright. It’s been days since someone’s laid a hand on me.”

“I was so scared Dark would send people into the house while we were all distracted, but I knew the cameras would tell me if someone tried to take you.”

“Thank you for going up there,” says Dok, wrapping him in his arms. “You’re my hero.”

Trick’s face flushes with pride, scooping Dok close to his body, though fear lingers in the whites of his eyes. He runs his fingers over the ravens on Dok’s chest without even having to look down at them, his other hand in Dok’s hair. Noodle jumps on top of his stomach and makes him yelp - and then laugh, accepting kisses on his nose from his kitten.

Anonymous asked: Yeah, you're both okay. Everyone's okay. You're all alive and okay.

“What are the chances?” murmurs Dok, and it makes Trick laugh. He wants to build him nests out of t-shirts and blankets and buy him fish and chips. He wants to give him coffee at Christmas and deliver babies with him. He wants to make him smile.

“Let’s go get some breakfast,” says Trick. “I bet you haven’t eaten.”

“Okay.”

Anonymous asked: Dok, still got your necklaces?

“And wouldn’t take them off for anything,” he says, pulling them out from beneath his shirt - three little black raven talismans, arranged one two three from his collarbone to the curve of his chest. Trick doesn’t react, heading upstairs without looking back.

“The animal one, the light weapon, and the one that protects my head and my heart,” says Dok gently, plucking at his ravens one by one. “From my friends.”

Anonymous asked: JJ, I know you're beat to hell right now but we're running out of time. Anti's done playing around. Red and Dok are basically out of his control and he sees that, if he starts cutting losses, he's going to kill them. He's gonna hold onto Blue for usefulness, and trick out of favoritism, but JJ, somehow you've fallen in the middle. This damn twin system is throwing everyone's judgment but I think you have a better glimpse of the whole picture. We don't want to cut losses but we need a plan.

“Noooooo,” protests Dapper unhappily, shaking his head. “Nooo, don’t make me decide things, am tiredddd.”

He draws out his signs in long motions and flops down against the side of the tub, silver chain around his throat. At least he’s been able to get out of the bathtub and move around a little with only his neck chained - Red is not so lucky.

“Don’t shake your head so much, buddy,” he coughs, sallow and pale with the coming of the morning, his neck as white as the t-shirt strip wrapped around it. “You might still be concussed.”

“I want off my collar,” protests Dapper, struggling to get up to his feet, only to crash back down to the floor. “I should have been a good boy, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” whispers Red. “He’s been like this all night. Anti hurts him and it snaps him back into his sugar-sweet, obedient little brother mode. It’s not healthy. Dap, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Reddy, lemme go.”

“Just try to lie still.”

“I wanna go home, I wanna go away, I wanna go somewhere nice.”

Red shudders, both of them struggling to take care of each other while they deal with their own shit. Dapper is spacey and injured, wheezing when he breathes, and Red has been over-stimulated and uncomfortable for about nine hours straight. He ran himself a bath for the blood and Haldol and everything on the floor of the filthy tub, but he hates it when his clothes are wet almost as much as he hated sitting in his own blood. He wants to cry again but he’s too tired. He’s just got to stay strong and get through it, like he always does. Tomorrow, this will be over. Tomorrow, this will be over. Tomorrow, this will be over.

“Wanna go home,” repeats Dapper weakly.

Anonymous asked: i know, buddy. i'm sorry, dap, jamie, love, you didn't do anything wrong, you don't deserve this. but i don't think you'll be stuck like this for much longer, okay, bud? i don't think you'll be stuck right there for more than a few more hours, and i think in a week or so things will have been figured out. hold on, okay? you're doing great, and i know it's hard, but just hold on, buddy. we're doing our best to help you guys.

“I do not want to hold on.”

He is grumpy and tired, childish in his fear of Anti, because it’s always been the best way to protect himself.

“I want my bear and my friends and pasta and Jack. I don’t want to hold on. I don’t feel good. Red, come home with me. Can’t we?”

“We’re kind of stuck right now, bud.”

“Not stuck, never stuck. I wanna go. If I can think of something. Take you with me so you’re not so unhappy.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Dippin’ Dots. Want to look for Tylenol or something in the drawers?”

“Anti took everything out of the bathroom in case I try to overdose,” signs Dapper. “I can’t even die to escape him.”

“Hey, we don’t talk like that,” warns Red with a thrill of fear down his back. “Don’t have to die to escape anyone. We’re going to be okay.”

Dapper plays with his clock distantly, running it between his hands.

Red sighs and turns back to you. “Is my twin okay?” he asks. “Please? Can you see him? Is he awake?”

Anonymous asked: Anti if you're going to be wearing Blue, march him to a hospital. You're only making him worse.

Anti is running his hands over the flesh of Blue’s arms, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom.

“You know,” he says, his voice a fine low rumble. “I’m almost getting used to having skin.”

He strokes his throat, his fingers drifting down his esophagus.

“With the sickness I get otherwise, it’s a lot more comfortable. And with Blue breaking down and always turned against me… I’m starting to wonder.”

He cups his face in his right hand, his left resting on his caved stomach. He listens to Blue’s heartbeat in his skull. Thump, thump, thump. Quiet and tired, but reassuring in its steadiness.

When he was small, he used to sit in the back of Jack’s head, only half-formed, and listen to the beating of his heart. The only rhythm he knew.

“I could maybe just wear him all the time,” he says. “And only leave when I needed to glitch. He scratches a little. Doesn’t fit quite so well as Dapper. But still, I could just… rest.”

He touches Blue’s image in the mirror.

“Change this body til it feels like my own.”

There’s a sly light in his eyes as he turns to you. You know that look by now. He’s trying to get a rise out of you, to wind you up, to piss you off - but he could be serious, too.

Blue shudders faintly, Anti’s eyes gleaming in his head.

Anonymous asked: You really think that'll impress Dark? Okay then.

Anti rumbles out a laugh. “Dark’s always impressed by me. Even when I thought they were a total creep they looked at me like I’m the prettiest little killer in the world, right down to the essence of me. Sometimes people tell you to go kill yourself with enough emphasis that you can tell they got it bad.”

It’s difficult to tell if he’s joking or not.

“But I’m glad you agree Blue’s unimpressive right now too.”

Blue’s body drops like a sack of flour as Anti steps out of him almost literally, backing away from his body and regarding him coolly, popping bubblegum in his mouth as he looks down at him.

“Got something on your face,” he says, nudging Blue with his foot as his eye begins to bleed.

“F - fucker!” gasps Blue, clawing at the hardwood and drawing in huge lungfuls of air. “What did you do to Red?”

“I’ll give your precious twin back to you when he’s learned his lesson. Get out of my sight, you little witch.”

pine-storm-season asked: Hey, Dok and Trick? Anti just unpossessed Blue, he's in Anti's bedroom and might appreciate help leaving the room and stuff.

Trick puts his cereal down right away, turning to head upstairs. Dok makes to follow and Trick shakes his head at him, warning him off. “You’re still not allowed up here.”

Dok can’t say he really minds staying away from his torture room. He waits for his siblings at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey,” says Anti, pleased when Trick comes up to him.

“Hey, Green. Can I have him?”

Anti rolls his eyes. “If you want him, you can have him, but you don’t have to look after him if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay, I just want to get him out of your hair,” says Trick nicely. Anti relaxes against his bed, watching Trick pull Blue to his feet. He isn’t looking well.

“Red, Red,” begs Blue.

“Maybe we can have Red and Dapper back too?”

“Don’t worry about them. A little later.”

Anonymous asked: (Dok, while you're alone, Anti hypnotized the ever-living FUCK out of Trick and told him that he has three days to get the necklaces off you or else he'll kill you. I'm really sorry to drop this on you so bluntly but it's really important you know. If you don't want Trick to know you know, you can probably play off your reaction to this news as reacting to Blue looking like shit, Trick's bringing him back now)

Dok’s mouth parts so softly you see his chapped top lip cling to the bottom for a second, revealing his slightly crooked front teeth. He doesn’t answer you - barely looks at you - for a good thirty second. A deep breath passes in and out of him without conscious thought and his eyebrows fall into a dismayed sort of terror.

“Oh, he - he said he’d kill me? Anti did?”

And how stupid it is - how utterly and painfully stupid - that after all the realization he went through, after all the growth, after all of his own hopes to kill his little brother - the thought of Anti killing him still burns like a betrayal.

He never loved him at all.

He spent so long being so good for him - gave his whole life up for Anti, loved him no matter what he did to himself and his siblings - and Anti would cut him open and leave him dead on the grass of the lawn just to punish Trick.

Dok has to go. He gets up and he leaves you there, racing away and back down the stairs.

Anonymous asked: well on one hand dok is totally entitled to that reaction on the other hand FUCK

“What reaction?” asks Trick, and then his twin isn’t at the bottom of the stairs.

“You told him!” he accuses instantly, whirling on you. “You - he shouldn’t have to know that! He shouldn’t have to think about it! Why would you - ugh! I was going to keep him safe, like I always do! He’s got enough going on right now, he - Blue?”

He catches Blue as he begins to slide off Trick’s shoulder, sinking towards the ground. Trick heaves him up in his arms, huffing with the weight of him, and, determined, he carries him to his and Red’s bedroom, setting him down on the bed.

“N-no, I’m okay,” stammers Blue, wiping at his forehead. “I’m okay, Dok.”

“It’s Trick, Blue.”

Blue pants, looking up at him. His foggy eyes are squinted nearly into slits, blinking fast.

“Can you see me?”

Blue closes his eyes and turns away, burying his face in his hands.

Anonymous asked: Can we set the cameras to transmit audio? If not, Trick, can you pass it on to Blue if he can't read these? It's gonna be alright, Blue. Right now, you're downstairs in Red and Trick's room. Trick is in the room with you, and Dok is I think also downstairs? But not in the room. Anti, Red, and Dapper are all upstairs. What's one thing we or someone else can do for you right now to help?

“I want Red!” snaps Blue, turning suddenly on Trick and shoving him away. “Get out! You’re just Anti’s little pet! Leave me alone! What can you or somebody do? Fucking nothing, that’s what! I’m just disgusting and sick, leave me the fuck alone!”

“Hey, Blue, calm down,” Trick snaps right back, real fear in his voice. “You’re panting way too hard, okay? Just try to breathe.”

“Then get out! Get out of my room! I don’t want you here! I don’t want anybody but Red and even he can’t save me so go away!”

Trick’s never really been snarled at by Blue, but he won’t let it get to him while everyone else in the house is in worse trouble than him. He decides his sibling isn’t joking about wanting to be left alone. Trick knows the feeling. He gives you a meaningful look, tilting you towards Blue. Keep an eye on him.

Trick leaves Blue alone. Blue tries to get up to draw the curtains closed for himself, but even this one little thing he can’t do for himself - he crashes to the floor, his legs giving out, and grits his teeth as the blurry image of his pale hands holds his shaking body off the floor.

Not even his hands. Not even his skin. Not even his body. Oh, fuck. His head swims. The world is falling away from him. He sits up, trembling, and falls back against the bed, gripping at his head. Gripping at the head. Not even his skull. Not even his fucking body.

“This isn’t me, this isn’t me, this isn’t me,” he whispers, his voice faltering back into despair. “Where did my body go, holy shit. This isn’t happening. This isn’t Blue.”

.

Trick finds Dok downstairs, hiding under the bed.

“Dok?”

He’s never seen him under there before.

“Dok, I’m here.”

He crawls down beneath his twin, reaching for him. Touching Dok does not make him look over or speak. He’s just still.

Trick’s heart sinks.

“One of your zone-outs, my brother?” he asks quietly.

Dok stares at nothing, breathing a little too slow, a little too deep. In. Out. In. Out.

“I’m here,” Trick repeats quietly, even though it never seems to be enough. “I’m here.”

Dok lies still. Lets him hold onto him.

He’s scared. No matter what he told himself, it all seemed to come down to this - in three days, he’ll most likely be dead. Yeah, he’s scared. His brain decided to give him a break. He’s far off in his head. Trick doesn’t think he feels anything at all when he’s like this. It’s a defense mechanism.

For a moment, Trick reaches up and touches Dok’s necklaces. The talismans burn his fingers dark red, but he doesn’t draw them away until he has to. He doesn’t think he can get them off with just his hands, but if he got a knife…

He sighs and leans against Dok’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Not right now. He can’t even think about it right now.

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’m with you.”

They lie beneath the bed, in silence.

.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

“Dap,” begs Red, panting through his discomfort, trying to keep his calm. “You gotta stop rambling, little brother. You are okay. Okay? I’ll get you out of here.”

“No, I want to go home! Now, now, now!”

“Dap, we’re stuck! Come on, please take it easy!”

“No, we’re going now,” says Dapper, determined. He brushes at sweaty curls on his forehead and shivers, scrambling around the bathroom, his silver chain jingling. “We’re going away. Maybe we don’t have to come back. Where, I don’t know. I have to remember something. We can go home. I want to.”

His hand finds his little clock in the corner of the room. Red’s eyes widen.

“Now - hey, hold on a second, Dapper. I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“Where do you want to go?” asks Dapper, barely seeming to hear him, staggering back towards him in the tub. “Who should we go see? I just have to remember… I just have to… we’ll go somewhere it doesn’t hurt so much. I’ll be good then. I promise. He won’t catch us. He can’t smell it, not in here. Where do you want to go, J-happy?”

pine-storm-season asked: I don't think that's a good idea, Dapper. He's already irritable and angry, and the chances of making it worse seem too high. I'm sorry, buddy, I think you have to stay here.

“I don’t want to, I want to go away, my whole body really really hurts.”

He crashes down besides Red and his big brother does his best to catch him as he falls, but this only makes Dapper gasp in pain as hands make contact with his bruised side. For a second, it seems to startle him out of his frantic determination. He collapses against the side of the tub, his head falling against Red’s. Red holds his shoulders and tries to make him breathe in time with him, rubbing his arm.

“It’s okay, Dap. It is. I promise. It will be.”

Dapper shakes his head, low, low, his eyes haunted.

“He really beat me. Like he used to back when I was never good.”

Red just holds onto him, shaking his head. He doesn’t know what to say anymore. He just knows - they have to go. They have to. He has to get his family away from Anti. He hopes Anti will forgive him someday, but he can’t worry about him now. Not when he’s treating them like this.

“I loved that big house in the forest,” signs Dapper quietly. “I only got to live there about a year.”

“Some day I’ll find a place where we can live and you can feel safe again. I promise.” He presses their foreheads gently together, minding the dark bruises across his little brother’s tired face.

“I want to go see Jack,” signs JJ gently, pressed against Red’s head. “I really want to talk to him. I think I need to talk to him. I miss him. He doesn’t remember me in reality. But I still remember him in my own timeline. I want to go see him.”

Maybe Red should protest more. But the truth is he’s filthy and hurt and in a lot of discomfort, something that translates directly into distress and pain for him.

And that one time when Dapper sent him back - when he saw them all again - when they were so healthy and clean and safe and Blue laid beside him and told him he was a good man -

Yes, Red wants that.

So he whispers:

“Are you sure you can make it? Even though you’re hurt?”

“Jackie,” signs Dapper, like it could be the sign for love or brother or family. “I’m sure.”

“And Anti won’t catch us?”

“Not if we’re quick. He didn’t catch me before.”

Dapper has eyes like suns faraway, big and bright. Red has had trouble saying no to him ever since he began to see the little recluse trapped in the attic as his baby brother again.

“Okay,” says Ro. “Let’s go home.”

He touches Dapper’s hand.

Anonymous asked: He, Dok, I doubt you'll be up to reading cameras right now, but however you're feeling is okay. You've done incredible work getting as free as you can from him, but not even magic can undo the effects of months of conditioning, abuse and hypnosis overnight. He's a master manipulator, you've done so well getting this far. Please don't beat yourself up for how you're reacting. Also Trick, this is a crazy stressful time for you guys, and you're doing your best, and we thank you sincerely for that.

“You know what?” says Trick, a little weakly. “We’ve gone through worse times together and come out okay, right, Dok?”

He’s managed to get Dok out from under the bed. They’re curled up on the couch in the basement, playing Lord of the Rings on the big TV. They don’t have internet, but they do have a DVD player.

“Look, Aragorn,” Trick prompts his brother, patting Dok’s arm. “You love this movie, right? When was the last time we saw it?”

Personally, Trick doesn’t really get the appeal, but he likes the monsters and the fighting scenes and things. Dok’s really into it, though, most of the time. But right now he’s just burrito-ed in all the blankets Trick gave him, staring down at the floor with a truly miserable expression on his face.

Trick hovers unhappily, patting his arm.

“It’s okay, buddy,” he says. “They’re right, don’t gotta blame yourself. It’s okay. You’re doing great.”

He curls up against him and keeps him company. Dok’s eyes don’t start to re-focus until they’re on their way to Mordor.

Anonymous asked: Yeah, you both are doing so well handling all this. Dok, however you're feeling is okay. We're going to do our absolute best to protect you guys, yeah? It's okay.

Dok lets out a small, tired sigh at Trick’s side.

“Hey,” whispers Trick. “Are you with me?”

Dok looks wearily over at him, meeting his eyes at last, but he doesn’t say anything.

Trick scoots forward and presses their heads together, lying against him. Dok glances over at you before lying back again. Faintly, his hand moves to rest across Trick’s.

They do not speak about the talismans. They do not speak about the death threat.

“Gimli is my favorite,” says Trick, after the dwarf says something funny, and Dok is grateful that he’s pretending to care.

“Can we watch all three?”

“We can watch all three.”

Dok will be asleep by the end of the first, but Trick doesn’t mind that either. He slides the second DVD in and goes back to his place at his side.

Anonymous asked: Hey Dap, Red, I'm all for you guys doing that, but are you completely sure you're going to be safe? If anything goes wrong, things could go even more south for you guys, and it's already really bad at the moment. Again, not trying to dissuade you, but please please make sure it's going to be safe. Or, as safe as anything in this family can be.

Ro comes to spitting and coughing.

He finds himself on his hands and feet - mid push-up, he thinks? He lets himself go down and then rises again, and, with a burst of pride, he feels taut muscles raise and lower him as though his weight were nothing to them. Another push-up. Another.

Jackie was strong, he realizes, and he blames the flash of jealousy on his old counter-part for being this fucking ridiculously fit, and then notices how strange it is to think of the person he used to be as someone else entirely.

He gets to his feet, glancing around.

Was this his room?

A lava lamp bubbles in the corner. His eyes get fixed on it, watching the colors rise and fall and float. His windows are open and cool air and birdsong float into the room. The walls are a nice light blue, the bed is a Queen with thick black blankets, and everything else - oh, fuck - it’s neat! It’s clean! Everything he owns is packed politely into drawers, a row of nice running shoes tucked in a perfect line in his closet, Spider-man decorations and pictures of his family arranged in clean lines on his dressers and drawers.

This is like Heaven.

For a long time, he sits in the middle of his floor, just breathing. Just watching. Just trying to remember.

A slow breath fades from his chest. He closes his eyes and he opens them again.

He remembers you and looks down, smiling.

“Safe, huh?” he mumbles, feeling the cool breeze through his hair. “What’s the fun in that?”

Anonymous asked: Oh alright, you made it safely!! Your room does look pretty cool, and damn wish I could do push ups like that. Way to flex, hero man. If you're able, would be be able to look for Dapper? You both weren't exactly doing super well when you left, and the magic might've taken a toll on him. (Hope this trip goes well for you!!)

“I’m not even flexing, this is just how I be,” purrs Ro, letting himself revel in the pride of it for a second, standing up and looking down at himself. He feels immortal like this. He looks into the mirror and his face is flushed with health - though he finds one deep scratch across his collarbone that surprises him, bandaged by neat hands, but stinging across his skin.

“Weird… wonder what that’s from? Oh, geez, yeah. Where is Dap?”

cest-mellow asked: it’s good to see you so healthy, red. but where is jameson? is there anyone else in the house with you?

“I better find him,” mumbles Ro, looking around like he expects JJ to crawl out from under the bed. “I don’t know if anyone else is here. I’m assuming this is the same house I was at last time he brought me back, the house in the woods he always talks about.”

He glances out the window. The trees are swaying in the wind.

“I don’t know how to get home without him, so he has to be around here somewhere. Right?”

“Hey, Jackie, are you coming?”

A voice with a familiar accent startles Ro out of his thoughts. He turns towards the door. “Uh… yeah, Dok, sorry, give me a second!”

“I know you’re just visiting, but I have a shift to be on time for, you know.”

“Right, sorry,” says Ro, a little startled. Did Dok just give him sass? Dok? “Oh, fuck, that’s not his real name. Uh… H, something German.”

cest-mellow asked: henrik! his name is henrik. where is he trying to take you? maybe jamie is there too? you should ask tho O_o

“Henrik! Right.”

“What?”

“No, I was just - uh - ”

Henrik pushes open the door to his room, leveling a look at him.

“Oh,” says Ro. “Hey.”

He’s got this clean white coat on and a dorky, cute blue turtleneck. His hair is very short at the sides, soft and dark on the top. He raises his eyebrows at Ro in a way that is both bemused and challenging. It’s not a look Ro is used to.

The Dok he knows is quiet and submissive, scampering back to his nest every time Red used to raise his voice at him, slathered in scarring and always trying and failing to keep his hands clean. But Henrik has this light in his eyes like nothing in the world has ever made him afraid, and his back is held so straight that for a moment Red thinks that he’s taller than him. Maybe he is taller than him, and Ro just never noticed before.

“Come on, dummkopf,” laughs Henrik, nudging his head towards Ro’s shoes. Ro doesn’t think Dok has ever insulted him out loud and to his face, even as a joke. “Let’s get going. Don’t you want to visit Jameson?”

Anonymous asked: Oh wow, guess this is happening, cool! What do you want to do while you're here, Red? (Is there anyway you could get information on Anti or any weaknesses? Or not, goodness knows you guys deserve to just have a nice time without worrying about him)

“One second, Henrik, I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, Henrik,” he says, and it takes Red a couple seconds to realize he’s being teased. “Today I’m Henrik, huh? Well, of course, Jackson, take all the time you need.”

There must be something else he’s supposed to call him, but Ro doesn’t remember what. Henrik grins at him like he’s waiting for him to say something back, but Red’s at a loss. Henrik blinks and steps back.

“Sorry,” says Ro. “Really, I’ll be right there.”

“Um, okay,” says Henrik. “I’ll just be on the porch.”

Henrik leaves and Red smacks himself in the head. “Two seconds in and already I’m acting weirder than usual. Okay, what do I want to do while I’m here? Geez, I gotta leave most of this up to Dap. Sounds like he had somebody he wanted to talk to. But, uh.”

He pauses, cocking his head.

“Well, if we have time, I would like to see Blue and Trick and… well. Blue and Trick. And just - yeah. Well. Probably don’t have time for anybody else, but I really liked last time seeing how healthy everybody looked. Kind of jarring. But right now especially, I really want to see that Blue’s okay.”

Anonymous asked: Ro, Dok's name is Henrik (von Schneeplestein)! If you run into Trick, he's Chase, you know Blue's name, and Dapper's with you, and oh if there's another guy you haven't seen before, he's Jack or Seán, I think JJ might be looking for him. Also, from what I can remember, yeah expect some sass from Henrik haha! These guys are probably going to pretty different to who they are now, but regardless of all that, you're still their brother. Best of luck!

“Holy shit,” gasps Red. “Holy shit!”

Schneeplestein, holy shit!

And it’s funny, first things first, just because that seems like such a ridiculous name on the surface, but Red isn’t even laughing, not for a second, because shit, that was his name, wasn’t it?

“Schneep,” he breathes, and it doesn’t matter how silly of a name it is, it’s a memory alive again on his tongue. “Holy shit… we were friends.”

He doesn’t remember the things they used to do or the way they used to get along, but with that name he knows that they did used to get along, that they did used to love each other in a way he’s long since forgotten, that Schneep was his brother long before Dok and Trick were bound at the hip, that that’s not just his tired, struggling little brother with the haunted eyes - that was Schneep, his Schneep, the doctor who always kicked his ass when he came home hurt, the man who would patch them up while grumbling in German the whole time, the arms he would come back to when he was in pain. That was his brother.

Ro has to sit down for a moment.

“Shit,” he whispers, biting on his nails. He lets his eyes slide shut for a second. “Schneep…”

Because it’s one thing to know that they used to know each other better and that their bodies used to be healthier. But to know that they used to be different people who loved each other, deeply, in different ways than they do now -

Fuck, it’s a lot to have stolen from them. It’s not fair.

It’s not fair that Schneep is dead.

He wants to see the others right now.

hollenka99 asked: Just a reminder for if you bump into them, Trick is Chase and Blue is Marvin. I'm guessing you used to call Henrik by a nickname. Try 'Hen' and see how he responds. After all, you're still shortening people's names now like Dapper being Dap etc. Can't hurt to try. Worse that will probably happen is that Henrik may tease you again.

“Okay, right,” mumbles Ro, getting to his feet. “Yeah, I’ll just… Chase. Right.”

And then he can’t bring himself to say the name Marvin out loud.

He tugs on sneakers - nice sneakers, red and white - and finds thin black gloves near the door, slipping them on despite a warm fall outside his window. He loves having gloves. Jackie is wearing a long, heavy red hoodie and long black and white sweatpants. He feels covered and comfy and - for the first time in a long time - handsome.

But somehow even that realization is painful, and he turns away from the mirror, swiping at a place on his forehead where a scar will one day exist.

He pushes out of his room, glancing down a short hallway towards a homey little living room with a couple worn-down couches. The house is quiet. He wanders through the kitchen and the laundry room, where faint voices waft in through an opened window. Pushing through the back door, he sees a pair of siblings working on a pretty little garden together, helping each other tear up weeds and chattering about nothing.

He’s never seen Blue and Trick spending time together alone.

“Hey,” he calls weakly.

Their heads turn up together, both smiling at him. Chase sticks his tongue out at him. Marvin winks. Ro hears a laugh bubble out of him, shaking his head in amazement.

pine-storm-season asked: Here you are, yeah! This is good, I think, to see them again like they are. You doing alright, Red?

“I feel weird,” he says, with a fluttering laugh. “But after being stuck in that fucking bathtub, I can’t be upset with anything. Hey, guys.”

“Hey, J-man.”

“The king, the legend!”

“Your shift at the hospital?”

“We’ll be there after lunch to give you a break.”

“He likes those Twix bars in the little shop out front if he gets upset.”

“I love a little shop.”

“Look how my mint is coming in!” Chase and Marvin both lean back to give him a view of bunches of herbs growing up from the ground. Ro shakes his head, laughing.

“Why don’t you just grow it with magic?” asks Ro.

“I’m still so tired from the fight,” says Marvin, grinning up at him and pushing long, dark hair from shining eyes. “But even if I wasn’t, it’s good for me to work the earth a little sometimes.”

Marvin buries his fingers in the soft damp earth, breathing in the deep richness of the smell like a worshipper breathes Easter incense. He closes blue eyes. The wind brushes across his soft hair. He smiles back at Ro and Chase follows their gazes.

“You have freckles,” says Ro faintly.

“When I get enough sun,” answers Chase warmly, touching his cheeks.

Anonymous asked: I think Schneep is a common nickname for him, maybe try that? This is probably going to be painful, seeing how much you guys have lost, and remembering things too, but hey, you can still reach something like this again. Healing is possible, and while you're not likely to be the same, you can still all make progress and learn to love each other like that again. While you're here, do your best to make the most of it!! Love you Jackie <3

“Hey.”

A hand descends on Ro’s shoulder and he turns to ice eyes behind thick glasses.

“Are you okay?” asks Schneep, frowning. “How’s the cut?”

Ro touches his chest uncertainly, feeling the faint burn of a clean wound. “Um. Okay.”

“Ready to go to the hospital?”

“Yeah, okay. Is Jack coming?”

Henrik blinks. “He’s still there from last night.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, let’s go.”

Anonymous asked: So... are you guys going to visit Jack at the hospital? Is he okay?

Ro doesn’t know how to start asking about it without alerting Henrik to the fact that something’s wrong. He trails after his little brother towards the door of the house, next to which hangs a great silver mirror.

Schneep takes his wrist without preamble, making Ro startle, but all his brother does is say “amo, vale,” and then -

Hold on a second.

Ro is too startled to protest when Henrik pulls him through the mirror after him.

Gone is the forest. Red closes his eyes in shock against a strange sensation, feeling the world give an odd lurch around him, and - well, it’s not unlike the time travel, but his body has moved instead of changed. Brick walls rise on both sides, birds chittering around the rooftops. It might have been a dirty alleyway, once, but so many flowers and weeds and grasses have grown up through the broken earth and brick and pavement that it makes a tiny pocket in the back of the alley, hidden from the world. Henrik pushes through a curtain of vines and Ro sees people and cars rushing down the streets around them, feels the burn of city electricity, hears the laughter and the noise and the life of lived-in places. He takes one last look back at an abandoned mirror sitting in a dirty rectangle of painted blue wood and moves after Henrik, counting his breaths to keep them steady.

“What did you say?” he asks shakily, hurrying after Henrik to catch his wrist. “Those words, like a spell?”

Henrik quirks his eyebrows at him. “Marvin’s password? That was all.”

“Henrik, how’s everyone doing?”

“I didn’t get any calls overnight, so I’m hoping that means good. No more breakdowns for JJ, I hope, and if Jack got caught staying past visiting hours and thrown out on his ass, well, he can take care of himself.”

nikkilbook asked: .... Jackie, ask how Jameson is doing.

“How is Jameson? How was his last breakdown?”

That light like sunflame in Henrik’s eyes gives its first flicker of the day, and he turns to give Ro a frog-frown look, his mouth tight.

“Look, I promise I won’t let them put him back in the psych ward. I’ll convince them to let us take him home first, once they know he’s going to be okay without the hospital. It’s not his fault. It’s just Anti in his head… soon, things will clear up, and he won’t be saying things like that anymore.”

“Things like what?”

Henrik rubs his arms together, shaking his head. “You know what! Like that there’s messages hidden in his prescriptions and all the doctors are secretly trying to kill him.”

Red’s head clears a little. “Oh. He’s psychotic?”

“No, I told you!” protests Henrik, his upset rising. “It’s just Anti, it has to be! He’ll clear up again!”

“You should put him on Haldol,” says Ro wisely. “If we’ve learned one thing from all this.”

Henrik gives him a despairing look, stopping in the middle of the path. “Bayard, he’s been through too much already. I don’t… I don’t want him to be any sicker than this. Don’t want him to have to deal with delusions. We just got him, can’t he have a break? I want him to not get hurt anymore.”

Red’s chest twists. Dok never did stop trying to look after him, either.

He looks smaller than Ro again, standing in the middle of the street, playing with a loose button on his sleeve.

“We’ll do everything we can, okay?” he says, stepping forward. He slides an arm around Schneep’s shoulders and finds that it feels easy, natural, normal. Henrik pushes gently back against him. “Even if he has got something going on in his brain, he’s still perfect. Can still be happy. You’ll see. I’ll make sure he gets the chance. I promise.”

And Henrik smiles again, small and correct, yes, correct, right, normal, natural, true. Schneep. Like nothing has ever hurt him. Pride in the cold ice of his eyes, in his clean skin, in his head lifted up.

Was Anti the one who taught them all to cower?

Anonymous asked: Oooh they don't know yet about Jamie's psychosis... Red, can you find a way to discreetly ask how long JJ has been with your brothers? Because it either has been not that much or they've all gotten lucky for a big stretch of time

“He’s been in here… what, how many days is it now?” asks Ro, dodging out of the way of harried nurses and - oh, Schneep just slammed his shoulder into the arm of that doctor with the clipboard.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, Kerchek!” he hollers, narrowing a glare at her.

“Hey, everybody look out, it’s Mr. Genius!” snarks back Kerchek, rolling her eyes.

“Still jealous about that botched piggyback, aren’t you?”

“I’ll show you a botched piggyback, Schneeplestein, you check your back.”

“Just stay away from my brother or else.”

“Holy shit,” laughs Ro. “Stop fighting with the other doctors! What the hell?”

“She deserve it,” huffs Henrik, tearing away. “Hey! You two stop snickering and get back to work!”

A pair of howling medical students all but crumple over their assignments, head bent low together.

“Yes, Doc,” they laugh.

Henrik just rolls his eyes and keeps walking.

“You cause a lot of trouble, Schneeps?”

“Please, everyone knows I run this hellhole. Clarissa, how is my patient?”

“Hi, Jackie. Hi, Schneep,” says a dark-haired nurse, glancing them both over fondly. “He’s doing okay. Just slept most of the night. You’ll have to go check if he’s been giving the morning staff as much trouble as you do.”

“Unlikely,” answers Henrik dryly, pulling Ro away again. The hospital is crowded and he dislikes the smell and feel of it, but everyone is smiling at them as they pass - or glaring at Henrik, who snipes right back. He’s a vicious little man and ever since he started working here, any passive-aggressiveness or false niceties died with a bang rather than a whimper. The hospital’s been better for it - and a lot more entertaining.

“It’s been what, a week and a half?” answers Schneep belatedly. “He was so shaken up to begin with. But a nice young man, isn’t he, once you get past the murder attempts?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the thought of you being a competent professional,” answers Ro cheekily, and a moment later a clipboard slams into his stomach. He groans out a laugh, snatching Henrik by the turtleneck and dragging him under his arm, making him yelp in protest and squirm to get away. They half-chase each other down the hallway towards Jamie’s room, Henrik fending him off with his clipboard, and Ro can’t stop laughing.

Fuck, when Blue reads him poetry with love in the lines of it, this is what he means.

Anonymous asked: Dang, I almost forgot how much confidence Schneep used to have. It's nice in a way to remember that he wasn't as quiet as he is, or well... will be. Bask in this moment, red. Enjoy that long passed time where brotherhood still held any kind of meaning other than simple hierarchy.

Ro looks at his brother as he pushes open the door to a nice little hospital room with lots of light. He doesn’t think he wants to know what sort of things you have to do to a person like Schneep to turn him into the little brother in a tattered coat shaking beneath the bed.

And this is better, he thinks, fleeting and true. Not that he was a different person. He could love him for whoever he is if he only got the chance. But that’s what was better - the chance to be his friend, and not just his brother. Maybe Jackie got swallowed up, too, the same way that Schneep did. Eaten up by that one role, letting it define him.

I’m more than his protector, though. I’m more than his big brother. He’s more than someone I need to look after all the time.

“Hey.” Henrik’s voice, gone gentle, interrupts his thoughts. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

Letting his legs dangle over one side of the blue hospital bed, Jameson tears his eyes away from the sun through the window and meets their eyes.

He looks exactly the same.

Anonymous asked: How's Jamie doing? Is he alright?

JJ reaches out for Ro.

He moves over to him and wraps his arms carefully around him, pressing JJ’s head to his shoulder. “Did you come to not knowing where I was?”

JJ nods, gripping at his sweatshirt. He doesn’t know what would have happened if he and Ro weren’t together when the timer on his clock ran out. He doesn’t travel like this a lot, or not that he remembers.

“Fuck, you really don’t age, do you? Like, truly. You just don’t.”

“Not until it’s my time,” answer JJ’s hands, a needle taped to the back of the right one. “And I haven’t had much of a chance at being twenty-five yet, you see.”

“I never thought this would be possible, but you might be skinnier now than you are… well, now.” Red draws back to look at him, pushing stiff, overgrown hair from his eyes and touches the back of his head, examining him. “I thought you said there used to be a time when Anti was nicer to you.”

“That time hasn’t come yet,” answers JJ wearily. “When he gets me back the second time…”

He notices Henrik standing by the door, staring between the two of them with his eyebrows up, worried and excited and confused all at the same time.

“You seem better,” he breathes, bouncing on his feet just a little. “Are you, um… feeling safer today? You are hugging today? We are not the enemies?”

JJ smiles, reaching out his arms. Henrik sweeps forward, beaming, and hugs him to his chest, pouring reassurances into his ear.

It’s about halfway through that JJ realizes this might have been the first time in his life he ever hugged Henrik. In the original timeline, he doesn’t think that happened until weeks later, when he stopped baring his teeth at anybody who tried to come close. He holds tighter and closes his eyes.

“You’re shaking,” murmurs Henrik. “You need more for the pain?”

JJ sucks in a breath, feeling at his body bit-by-bit. He does hurt, terribly, somewhere beneath the dull relief of whatever drugs he’s on. He’s beat and fragile, one of his ankles wrapped in a cast and an awful haze of weakness making him feel more like a ghost than a man.

And he’s never been medicated for his psychosis in his life. He knew it from the moment he came back to this moment in time. He miscalculated. He can barely think straight, and he’s afraid, and he doesn’t want to leave this room or face anyone.

“Where’s Jack?” asks Henrik, pushing lovingly at his hair. “Didn’t he stay with you?”

“Went to get me a hot chocolate,” signs JJ. “I really wanted one.”

“Oh, good.”

“Can I stay with Jackie a little while, H-healing? I want to talk to him.”

“Alright,” says Henrik, despite a little disappointment in his face. “Well, I need to get started at work for the day. But I’ll go over what the nurses said and if you need anything at all, I’ll come right back. Okay?”

JJ nods. Henrik cups his bruised face, soothing his thumb over a cut by his ear, and then, with one more look at the pair of them, he sweeps away again.

“You’re going to have to talk to Jack for me,” signs JJ immediately.

“What? No way! I don’t even know who that is. Leave me out of it, Jay. Hey, come on… don’t look at me like that.”

Anonymous asked: Jamie, how about you explain Jack real quick, and then we can also help Jackie talk to him if we need to?

“No, I refuse to explain,” says JJ politely.

“Dapper!”

“What! You might remember as you see him… I’d prefer for you to remember what he meant to you than me have to explain…”

Ro sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“This is the person Anti hates so much,” he says. “The old master.”

JJ picks quietly at the hospital bedsheets, watching mice crawl up the sides as he hallucinates. “I guess. Well, yes, he is the person Anti hates.”

“The magician who created us.”

“Something like that.”

“How can somebody have that much power?”

“It happens once in a millenium, my brother. And he has a bit of an energy boost.” JJ glances over at you, raising an eyebrow. “But I don’t remember all the details. Nobody understands the full thing. Usually, we let Jack stay out of it. It’s not really his fault, and he has a completely different life that’s not anybody’s business. We fight our battles without him. But… now I need to know.”

“What do you need to know?”

JJ stares up at him. “I… Dok and Blue have been… I just… I need to know more about… Anti.”

“What, Dap?”

“I can’t say it.” JJ ducks his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Not while I can hear him whispering to me from the television…”

Ro glances at the TV on the wall. It’s off.

Anonymous asked: It's safe, bud. You can say.

“You should know by now,” says JJ begrudgingly, turning away from Ro. “You want to protect us, do it. I want my hot chocolate and to go back to bed.”

“Oh my goodness.”

“Blue has been sneaking around with Dok ever since Peru, Ro. Hasn’t he told you anything he’s been thinking?”

“No!” protests Ro, offended. “Well, I mean - he’s not sneaking around without me! We sneak around together! Geez!”

“Ro, we all know you haven’t picked a side yet. Blue doesn’t - ”

“Picked a side?” Ro scoffs, pacing at the foot of his bed. “What sort of side is there to pick? You’re talking about Anti. I want to get you away from him, I do, but that’s our brother, Dap, that’s our - ”

“You think I don’t know that!” JJ’s hands tear the air apart. “What, you think I’m naive to his love and his hatred, Ro? Look around you! Do you see Anti back home with you? Does he come to visit me in the hospital, bring me hot chocolate, garden with Marvin, play around like a kid with Schneep in the hallway? Ro, Anti can be your brother if you want him to be, but it’s a choice that we make. Or you, at least… I think I’m bound up in his blood forever.”

“You’re talking about hurtingAnti.” Ro holds onto his wrist, trying to make him look at him again. “You’re talking about hurting him, not just running.”

“He just chained us to a bathtub!”

Ro backs away, gnawing on the nail of his thumb. He shrugs, eyes flickering around.

Anonymous asked: I know he's your brother, Red. But can I ask you a question? If you just met him, and he started pushing people around like he does now, is he the kind of person you would want to be friends with?

“Mh, no, he scares me, but it’s not about friends, it’s about brothers.” He shifts on his feet, hugging his arms over his chest. “And Anti’s protected me before too, even if he’s hurt me to match. He gets lost in his temper… I want us to be away from him, and not to go back until he can stop hurting us. If he can. But I don’t want to hurt him…”

He knows the warmth of Anti’s body in a hug. He knows the warmth of his own blood on Anti’s hands. He shivers.

nikkilbook asked: Jackie, what does “brother” mean?

“Well,” says Ro. “Your blood, yeah? You gotta look out for your brothers. And they’re supposed to look after you. And if they don’t, well, I think you gotta go, at least to keep the others safe. But you don’t turn around on your family. He doesn’t… mean to hurt anybody. Just angry. Right? And hey!”

He whirls on JJ again, wagging a finger. “That’s Jack’s fault! Anti always says the old master made us like this.”

“Anti blames him for everything,” answers JJ bitterly, wiping at his face. “Just because Jack fucked up a couple times when he was younger. It’s not Jack’s fault Anti’s always mean and you know that. Or if it is Jack’s fault - honestly, I don’t remember - then Anti can never change, and it would be better to kill him than to let him keep living so ferociously miserable.”

Real emotion breaks Dapper’s face. He turns away, pulling his hair over his eyes.

He hates Anti. Often. Not always. And no matter what he tries to tell himself, he can’t deny that it hurts to see Anti in pain. Lately, he doesn’t even hold him at night. His condition rears thoughts in his head - traitor little brother. Selfish brat. Turning on him. Something touches his ankle and he gasps, jerking it back to his chest, but nothing’s there. Ro reaches out to soothe him, hand held out in front of him like a shield.

nikkilbook asked: I’m not sure Jack “made” you anything. He created you, but that doesn’t mean he micromanaged your every flaw and personality trait. You are you, you’ve always been you, you’ve never not been you. All he did was give you a way to exist physically in this world.

Maybe Anti’s angry a lot. Maybe that’s outside of his control. But hating is a choice. Turning affection into a weapon meant to hurt and to maim is a choice. And crucifying yourself on the hate of someone who would call himself brother has only ever been the role of one man, and you are not Him.

“Jackie,” signs JJ gently. “Jack doesn’t even remember us anymore because of what I did… so we know for a fact he doesn’t control any of us any longer, if he ever did. You are you. And I… I’m me, for better or for worse. And Anti is himself. The person he’s chosen to be. Ro… how long have we loved him, and he still does things like this?”

Ro tears a strip off his nail, eyes haunted. “You remember better than I do.”

“Well, it’s been a long time,” he sighs. “And all of us have done our best. But it’s not our fault, Ro. It’s not… it’s not my fault. I have loved him, I have… it’s not your fault if that’s not enough to change him… it’s not my fault.”

Ro tilts his head, pressing his lips together, but JJ doesn’t turn back to his gaze. He’s curled in on himself, petting his hands through his hair, face very tired, and very guilty.

Anonymous asked: It doesn't equal out like that, Red. You don't owe a n y loyalty to someone who hurts you, even if they also protect you. And what you said about his temper, and if he stops hurting you? Red, he's had the chance to stop, many times. If he hurt you once when he was angry, and then did his best to work on it and not hurt you again, that would be okayish. But he doesnt, Red. He has no excuse for cutting your throat just last night, or for any of the other things he's done. Nothing justifies that.

“Okay, fine,” snaps Ro, pulling at his hair. “I know that Anti sucks ass and I have for a long time, okay? But I’d be scared, Dap! I’d be scared! It’s always safer to stay away from him or just wait his temper out! That’s always been true… and I… he is my brother, even if he’s the fucking worst and I hate his guts half the time!”

Dapper sighs. “Alright, Red, just - ”

“If we try to hurt him he’ll kill us!” shrieks Red. “He’ll do things to us like he did to Blue at the river while I was running away! I got scared and he put Blue in the hospital and he still hasn’t recovered, Dap! I don’t think he ever will! Anti did that to him just because he hated him and wanted something he had. He can get inside our heads, he can control us. I wanted to attack him in Peru, but I had to protect Max.”

“Ro, I know.”

“And then he made me feel like I loved him again! Even when I know the truth, I still feel that way sometimes. I’m not strong enough, Dap, don’t you get that? I can’t keep him out of my head, can’t convince myself to do anything, can’t protect you from him! He does things like chain us to a bathroom and I can’t stop that, JJ, I can’t, I’m sorry. I’m not… I’m not enough! I’m not what anyone needs me to be! He’s going to keep hurting us… but he’ll hurt us less if I can just get you away for a while or keep shielding you the best way I know!”

“No, that’s not true!” cries JJ, slashing at the air. “Stop, Ro, J-Joy, listen to me. Watch. Watch. Ro, don’t you know why I’m in the hospital?”

Ro blinks, glancing around. “You’re hurt. Anti hurt you. He’s always hurt you. Your whole life.”

“But Anti’s not here.”

Ro brightens a little. “I found a way to get you away from him? You’re hidden?”

“No, Ro, better,” says Dapper, clutching at his aching ribs as he leans forward. “You and Blue beat him. Beat him into the earth and took this past version of me away from him. And that was the night you made Anti terrified of the weakness that would force him to scamper away from a fight like an animal.

We are not the ones hiding right now, Ro - he is.”

Anonymous asked: Red, Ro, Jackie, you're strong. And I'm sorry you've been forced to be for so long. But you can get through all of this. You can win. We've been with you for a long time, haven't we? We know you. And we believe you can do this. We're with you, bud, we'll help you. It won't always be the way it is, because you all can fight, and you can win. He wouldn't beat you all down into dust if he didn't think you could be powerful enough to fight back and win.

Ro sits down at the edge of JJ’s bed.

His little brother’s fingers tug gently on his sleeve, waiting for him.

“I love you,” he says, though the words are ashy in his mouth.

JJ nods, stroking at his wrist. He presses an “I love you” into the mattress as he scoots closer.

“I love all of you. I want to keep you safe. I’ve never been able to do that. And I… still don’t think I could hurt Anti.”

“I know I couldn’t,” JJ agrees. “But I need to find out. For Blue and Dok. Cause, Jackie, I think maybe… when it comes down to keeping all of us safe, or staying Anti’s brother - I think maybe, on that day, we’re going to have to hurt Anti.”

“Kill him?” asks Ro weakly.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I could watch that. But if he comes at us again and tries to hurt us like he did today, wouldn’t you rather that we had a way to stop him?”

Ro bites down on his lip.

“If he tried to hurt Blue like he hurt us today, wouldn’t you rather that you had a way to protect him?”

Oh, yes.

Instead of running away.

He would like to stand tall again.

nikkilbook asked: There is no “enough,” Jackie. There’s only you, and that’s all your brothers—your friends—have ever needed. Not the you that Anti has twisted you into thinking you’ve become, but the you that’s real. The you that says “I love you” by telling the truth. That’s who you are. And sometimes, the truth does mean fear. Because Anti is frightening. You deserve the right to be afraid. But fear does not mean cowardice, and it does not mean shame. You are not shameful for being afraid of him. Remember yourself, Astrifer. You’re the boy who loves by telling the truth.

Red - Ro - Jackie - hell, but he can never make one of them fit quite right. He thinks there used to be a truth to him, somewhere, before all the lines went blurry and his hands spilled so much blood in the name of someone who’s always hated him anyway.

JJ touches his palm.

The contact of skin makes Jackie shudder, but he’ll allow it, just for a moment. Beneath JJ’s touch, with a smell like the earth after rain, Jackie’s clean white hands rise with Red’s scars, revealing his present again.

“Anti always mocked you for being a terrible liar,” signs Dapper. “Because when you knew what was true, Jackie - that was when he was afraid of you.”

“What’s true, JJ?” he asks numbly.

JJ puts his head against his shoulder.

“Big brother, you’ve always known.”

Anonymous asked: Yeah, it's gonna be hard, I know. But we believe in you all, and we'll be right here with you to help.

“Okay,” says Jackie softly, an arm around Dapper’s waist, and he knows what it is to be holding him - natural, right, truthful.

“If you want me to, I’ll go talk to Jack.”

Dapper closes his eyes.

He thinks a part of him wanted Jackie to refuse. To refuse to allow Dapper to betray their false brother. But he said yes, and Dapper has.

“Okay.”

He hides in Jackie’s shoulder and tries to ignore everything else in the world but the feeling of his warmth beside him.

Anonymous asked: Where is Jack?

“Getting me hot choccy.”

“Holy shit. Don’t shorten it to hot choccy.”

“What? You don’t want hot choccy too?”

“That’s - hahaha. The worst possible spelling.”

“It’s the best way!”

“Don’t you have a sign for chocolate?”

“Maybe I like saying hot choccy! What!”

“Jay, haha, I - ”

The door pushes open.

Jackie’s on his feet in a second, adrenaline pumping, fists clenched, body taut.

He knows that face. He knows that energy in the air. It makes all his nerves light up like firecrackers.

Anti stares back at him, holding a little cafe cup in both hands.

No…

No, he was wrong. Not Anti.

He just looks like him.

Down to the second and third tattoo.

Down to the way his fingers move.

Down to the way his eyes gleam in the light.

“Hey, man,” comes his tired voice, coughing a little. He steps past Jackie and hands JJ his hot chocolate, setting a coffee down on the table beside him. “You just got here?”

“Yeah,” says Ro quietly. “Yeah, I did.”

“Mmh.”

Jack adjusts the white cap on his head and lays his head down at JJ’s side without another word, letting half-circled eyes slide shut.

Ro doesn’t move.

The air feels like a storm is coming, faraway lightning playing with the ends of his fingers. The air feels like the birds have flown away and the frogs are hiding.

Anonymous asked: Red, you alright?

“Um, yeah,” murmurs Ro, scratching at the back of his head. “Yeah, fine.”

But he’s nervous watching this person lying beside his little brother like nothing is wrong. Like they’ve known each other their whole lives. And Jack isn’t talking either, which means - worse still - Ro might have to start the conversation.

In all honesty, he just wants to take JJ and go back to the house, to have a few minutes of peace before they’re returned to that goddamn bathtub. He glances at his little brother, whose face has gone dead, his affect flat and his body tired. JJ lifts up his little pocketwatch, where only a sliver of gold, counting mercilessly down, continues to disappear.

Anonymous asked: What are you supposed to talk to Jack about, again?

“Anti,” mumbles Ro.

“Hm?” asks Jack, like a cat uncurling.

“Nothing,” replies Ro, backing off a little.

Anti. His master. How to hurt Anti. Anti, who hates Jack more than anything. Ro shouldn’t be doing this. But he told JJ he would. So they would have a way to protect themselves and each other if Anti becomes violent with them again before they can find a way to escape. Ro can’t watch his brothers get hurt anymore. He doesn’t want to be a bystander in their pain. He doesn’t want to be a coward.

He glances down at his outfit, clutching his hands into fists. A thick hood at his back, strong running sneakers, gloves on his fingers.

He wants to be a hero again.

Anonymous asked: Ro, there is a way to help Blue recover. When we were with Dok and the magicians, a magic book told a story of a girl who had her magic stolen and had the same ailments as Blue does now. The girl recovered and got her magic back when the thief was killed and had blood stolen from him and given back to the girl. There's a way to fix it, but something tells me you won't like this very much.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up, no way!” cries Ro in sudden alarm, making Jack sit up on the bed, blinking. “Nobody said killed, okay, what? What the fuck? Is that what JJ meant when he said Dok and Blue were trying to figure out how to hurt Anti? They’re going to - oh, fuck no! I’m not a part of that, okay?”

Terror and panic and guilt burst like a water balloon in his chest and overwhelm Ro with a sudden ferocity, making his eyes water.

“I’m gone, I’m out. This is fucked up. I know he’s cruel but I would never want to killhim. What’s wrong with Dok and Blue?”

“JB,” calls Jack. “What - what is going on?”

Ro locks eyes with him and gets no comfort from the face so much like his own. He turns and races out the door, needing to cry.

“JB!”

Anonymous asked: hey, red, it's okay. deep breaths, love. i know you don't want to kill him, and that's okay. no one says you have to. it might have to happen eventually, but right now we're just figuring out ways to protect them, okay? no one says you have to kill him, it's okay. we're just protecting your other brothers, that's all we plan to do.

“Might have to?” wheezes Ro, sweeping past a crowd of medical staff to race towards the stairwell. “Might have to happen… holy fuck… I didn’t… I’m not… but then, he’s the one who made me a killer, isn’t he?”

He shoves through the door into the stairwell, racing away, logical thought flown from his head. “But then, I do have to protect them, don’t I? I do, I do. I - ”

“Is this because I couldn’t do it?” cries Jack’s voice behind him, the door clicking open again. “Jackie, I tried, I - he was screaming for me! What was I supposed to do? He’s gone, isn’t he? Isn’t that what matters? I’m sorry.”

Ro stops dead, panting. Jack’s footsteps race down the stairs towards him.

Anonymous asked: red, do you think it's safe to tell jack what's happening? you don't have to, it just might help.

Ro lets out a shaky breath, turning to face Jack.

“Can we talk about this? Are you okay?” asks Jack, pushing a strand of long hair from his eyes and tucking it beneath his cap again.

His mouth is curled with guilt, his voice small and sad.

Ro stares at him, trying to make his heart stop pounding. He doesn’t know why he feels afraid of him - though it’s not uncommon for him to feel confused about what it is that he’s feeling or where it’s coming from. Jack, for his part, makes him feel like lightning is about to come down over his head.

“JB, you’re kind of scaring me,” he admits uncertainly, stepping forward to put a hand on Ro’s shoulder. “Are you - ?”

Ro jerks away from his touch, staring at him.

Jack’s eyebrows raise, a flash of something more sinister than confusion entering blue eyes.

No, wait…

One blue, one green.

Jack takes a step back, green eye swirling. “Is it you?” he asks, voice hardening. “Or is it… no, I would know if it were you. JB, what’s going on?”

Ro swallows. You have a good point - he’s going to have to tell Jack something, unless he’s about to become a much better actor than he’s been the whole rest of his life very suddenly.

“It is… it is Jackie,” he says.

“What’s going on?” asks Jack, the light fading from his right eye, leaving it blue again. “Is it just the hospital? Do you want me to walk you home? Where are your headphones?”

Anonymous asked: Do you think you could ask him what Anti's weaknesses are? That might be a place to start, Red.

“What were you taking about?” asks Ro quietly, taking another step away from him. “Just now, when you said you couldn’t do it. When you apologized.”

Jack’s shoulders slump. He waits for a moment to see if Ro will follow up or move again, but when he doesn’t, he lets out a deep, tired sigh and sinks back against the railing of the stairs.

There’s no walls on the outside of the stairwell. White light streams in as the colors of cars and people and the soft dappled green flickers of a few well-loved trees move around them in a silent dance.

“Look, I… I know you would rather I killed him,” says Jack, pushing round glasses up on his nose. “I’m sorry. If you’re mad, I just… didn’t have the guts for it, JB.”

Ro nods, eyes flickering. “How… how did he get weak enough that you could have killed him? What were you going to do?”

Uncertainty in blue eyes.

Jack stands up again.

“Jackie,” he says. “What year is it?”

Anonymous asked: uhhhh my guess is 2017? i don't know if i'm right though?

Ro bites down on his lip. “It’s 2017, Jack.”

Jack blinks at him.

Then he laughs, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh, my buddy,” he says. “Not even close.”

“Come on,” protests Ro, embarrassment making his cheeks flush.

Jack reaches up to shove his shoulder, making Ro start.

“Just tell me next time he sends you back! What’s up, man, you seem spooked as fuckkkk.”

He draws the word out and grins, his posture loose and relaxed again, bumping shoulders with Ro as he comes to stand next to him.

nikkilbook asked: He created you all, Jackie. He knows what JJ can do.

“Guess that’s true,” grumbles Ro, a little off-put.

“Thought you could get away with it,” teases Jack. “I shoulda smelled it even without you acting all weird. Why’d you hide that from me, Mr. Boyman?”

“You’re making fun of me.”

Jack’s joy falls out of his face. “Oh, um. Sorry. No, I was just playing. I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I didn’t… sorry. Um. What’s up?”

Anonymous asked: Can Jack hear (see?) us? What even are we rn?

I’ve said since the beginning that the camera system requires a suspension of disbelief at times when it’s not convenient. I describe the audience as a camera even when it doesn’t always quite make sense. For now, we’ll assume you’re a little camera clipped to Jackie’s hoodie or in his hoodie pocket, but he can still get your messages. Jack can’t see or hear you and doesn’t know you’re there.

Anonymous asked: He wasn't mocking you Ro. Anti may have used your name to belittle and hurt you, but Jack uses it to love you.

Ro flushes and ducks his head, rocking on his heels, uncomfortable. He isn’t the person Jack expects him to be, and he’s awkward on top of that, and he wants to go home.

“What’s wrong?” asks Jack, flustered.

“I just need to ask you some stuff,” mumbles Ro. “I don’t want to pretend we’re friends.”

Jack’s face falls. He doesn’t move for a second, his eyes flickering. He wraps his arms around himself in a hug, sets his mouth, and nods. “Okay… Fine. What’s up?”

Anonymous asked: It might take too long to explain everything, so maybe try saying you're worried about the others, and that it'd help to know Anti's weaknesses just in case you need to use them?

“I need to know about Anti’s weaknesses,” says Ro.

Jack looks up at him, blinking. “You just kicked his ass a week and a half ago in this year. How far in the future are you?”

“Don’t ask questions, please,” he answers quietly.

Jack rubs at his chest and adjusts his cap again. “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. I can help, right? Where am I in the future?”

“Not around, okay? I’m kind of… stuck. With him. I need to get out.”

“Well, it was you and Marv and JJ the other day,” says Jack. “I made sure there’s enough between the three of you to hurt him. Are Marv and JJ with you?”

“Kind of? But, come on, what did we even do to him? I don’t remember the fight well - hit my head.”

“Oh, okay.”

“You were apologizing,” says Ro. “What did you mean? When you said I’d rather he was dead?”

Jack shakes his head quickly, clasping his hands together. “JB, seriously, if that’s why you’re mad, I’m sorry, man. I’m really sorry. I can’t stop thinking about it… if I had just got my phone out and filmed it… but I let him live. He was there writhing beneath your hands, calling for me! What was I supposed to do? I know he took JJ but he’s still… he’s still…”

Jack shakes his head again, turning away. He pulls his cap lower over his eyes and hugs himself.

“You and Marv just beat him up as you would normally, I guess? Marv’s fire and you fighting him and JJ there to make sure it all went alright. And then you… you had him pinned down… you were both bleeding but Marvin had him trapped in his vines and he was too hurt to glitch away. He doesn’t have weaknesses, per say - I just made sure the five of you would be enough to defeat him if you could ever pin him down. And you did. I’m glad. I’m sorry I couldn’t finish him off.”

Anonymous asked: I don't know if telling Jack straight up that you're from a time where you're with Anti is a good idea, but perhaps getting to the point fast would be. How much time do you and JJ have left here?

“Oh, shit,” hisses Ro. “You’re right, I should have stayed with JJ. He has the clock.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Jack quietly. “Here.”

He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and hands Jackie a clock just like JJ’s, with the little sliver of gold still counting down.

“How’d you get this? What the hell?”

“It’s not really a clock,” shrugs Jack. “Just a piece of his power. Our power. He and I can pull it out whenever we need it. But I can’t use it unless he’s nearby.”

“Why?”

Jack grins wryly. “Hey, I handed that power over when I made him. No use to me anyway. But when he’s close enough…”

“You can tap in.”

“Right.”

“Same with Blue?”

“What?”

“Er, Marvin?”

“Yeah, same with Marvin. And Anti, too.”

nikkilbook asked: All five? Are we talking power of friendship here, or do Schneep and Chase have specific contributions? And does it have to be you that films it, or is it just cameras in general? Would it have to be posted on the channel?

“Anybody could hurt Anti,” says Jack. “It’s just not often that people do because he can teleport and shapeshift. And he’s vicious. And smarter than most of his enemies, though of course he acts like a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah,” says Ro. “I’ve seen him hurt before, Jack, but he never dies. I don’t understand why.”

Jack lowers his eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Anonymous asked: Maybe ask him that if one of you couldn't do it, if he thinks it would still be possible to beat him again? Because Marvin doesn't have his magic right now, so he can't use it against Anti.

“Would we be able to beat him?” asks Ro. “If we couldn’t fight him like we can now?”

“You might be able to beat him,” mumbles Jack. “Anyone could beat him, even strangers to us, but only the five of you… well. Best chance is always getting the drop on him. Otherwise you gotta muster up enough strength and power to kick his ass, and that’s a lot harder.”

Anonymous asked: Okay, that went well. You could probably tell him that in your time you need to fight him, and so his weaknesses would be good to know?

“What do I need to know, Jack?” asks Ro, beginning to get frustrated. “Don’t cut corners or bullshit me. My family’s in trouble.”

Jack steps into his space, unafraid, eyebrows drawn back in worry. “Okay, deep breaths, okay? There’s nothing special to hurting Anti. You said you’ve seen people do it before.”

“Yeah,” says Ro. “In Singapore, there was a magician who fried him with electricity for about fifteen minutes and then set the house on fire, and he still didn’t die. I’ve seen a whole pack of magicians come after him. JJ says he’s seen Anti take all sorts of blows that should be mortal. He always comes out alive.”

Jack’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t question. He grips at Ro’s hoodie as he thinks.

“Listen, JB. I’m a creator, yeah. But creation doesn’t happen alone. There’s ways to focus power. Ways to make things happen. Like how Marvin can only grow plants if there’s already seeds or bits of them deep in the ground or nearby. There’s limits. There’s ways things have to be done.”

“Be direct,” Ro demands.

“You came to be not just because of my power, but because I shared you with other people,” says Jack earnestly, squeezing at the fabric of his jacket. “When I created most of you, you were pretty clearly human, so you can die like humans do, because that’s what people expect you to do. But Anti…”

“Isn’t human.”

“And that’s obvious about him from the start.”

“So he doesn’t die like a human.”

“No.”

“What does he die like?” Ro asks. “What is he then? A demon? A fairy? If you tell me then I’ll know how to kill him.”

“Right,” says Jack softly. “But that’s the thing. I… didn’t have a clear idea in mind when I created him. And I never told the audience jackshit about what he is.”

Ro stares at him, thinking.

“So…”

Jack clears his throat and closes his eyes. “Anti is confined only by the story that we tell. That means two things - you can’t kill him without telling the story, without building up to it, showing it, making it believable. And, two…”

Jack’s eyes open. His mouth is tight and trembling. He looks up at Jackie.

“It has to be one of the other characters in the story who kills him.”

Ro’s stomach drops.

“It has to be one of the five of you.”

Anonymous asked: why doesn't he die?

Ro clutches at Jack’s shoulders.

Tight.

He can’t help it. His brain is spinning. There’s nothing but a feeling he can’t name driving through his head, pounding against his skull, painful.

“You’re saying that Anti is immortal unless one of us kills him? One of his own brothers?”

Jack squirms a little beneath Ro’s tight grip, trying to back away, looking up at him in alarm. “Yeah. JB - ”

“And it has to be in front of a fucking audience? Like a public execution? No.”

“I made you real, but you’re characters at heart,” says Jack, panting a little as Ro squeezes tighter. “Since Anti’s not human, you have to tell the story.”

pine-storm-season asked: Would we count?

“How?” asks Ro weakly. “How can an audience be there?”

“Most of your story happened on my channel, over video.”

“On your channel?”

“Right,” says Jack, like it’s obvious.

“I… okay. So on video? Who has to see it?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly. The point would be… the point would be that the people who care about you, about these characters, about the people that you are - they would have to believe that something had changed.”

“They would have to believe that Anti had died.”

“Yes.”

“They’d have to see Anti die. See his corpse. See - ”

“Jackie, get off!” cries Jack, shoving at his arms as Ro’s grip begins to bruise, but Ro can barely breathe. He feels himself shove Jack back against the railing of the stairs. “Jackie, it’s okay, ow, you don’t have to squeeze me like that! It’s going to be okay, alright? Tell me where I can find you in the future! I’ll remember and I’ll come get you!”

Anonymous asked: Mmmh, is there really a point to avoiding telling Jack you don't remember him? I get that you didn't want to attract too much attention on yourself but at this point he's aware you're not from now and that there's something wrong. It's probably worth a shot, no?

“I don’t even know who you are!” cries Ro, trying to make himself let go of Jack, though he only seems to feel his fingers squeezing tighter. He can feel his heart racing, fast, fast, and he sees his vision going red. “If you think that Anti should die, why don’t you put his fucking costume on and film it yourself?”

“I was going to film it when you beat him!” shouts Jack. “You had him beat, had him hurt, and I had JJ back again, where he belongs! But he’s my creation too, Jackie! He was screaming for me to save him! How was I supposed to film that? Post that? He’s my boy too! I just wanted him to stop hurting JJ! He’s gone now, why can’t we just let him go!”

“He’ll come back!” screams Ro, shaking him, hard. “He’ll come back and spend the rest of his life hurting us!”

“Tell me where you are,” chokes Jack. “JB, I’ll come get you.”

“You left us the fuck alone!”

He lets go of Jack and staggers back, letting his creator crash back against the wall, panting.

“You’re not coming, Jack. You don’t even know me anymore. You never told the story in this timeline. It’s just the people who actually cared about us who remember.”

Jack stares up at him, shaking his head. “Jackie,” he croaks. “Jackie.”

And Red wonders if it’s the same way he said his name when Max came to his door, asking him where he was, and all Jack could do was stare at him and repeat their names like memories from dreams that were never real.

nikkilbook asked: He already tortures and abuses you in front of an audience. We’re the audience, Jackie. We’ve always been the audience. He rigged the cameras this way so he could make us watch, because he thought it was funny. Let us help you. Let us make a real difference.

“No, no, no,” chants Red. “No, no, no. This is awful. I don’t care if he’s terrible sometimes. He’s my little brother. I can’t… we can’t… not like that. Is that what Blue and Dok have been planning? I can’t, I…”

He needs to go home. Needs to see Anti. Needs to get back to JJ. He races towards his little brother, rushing up the stairs, his heart throbbing so hard it hurts in his chest.

“Let’s go,” pants Red, pushing back into JJ’s room. “Let’s go right now.”

JJ looks up from his hot chocolate, wiping at his tired eyes. “The timer’s almost up. Did you find out - ”

“Don’t talk about it, Dapper!” shouts Red, slamming his hand down on the table beside his bed.

nikkilbook asked: Remember yourself, Astrifer. Even if Ro-Red-Jackie don’t feel like they can fit, you can build a new identity, starting now. You can do this, Hero.

Ro covers his face with his hands, trying to breathe.

He needs to calm down. He can’t do this again. He can’t let his emotions control him so much. Make him so despairing, make him so angry. Make him so afraid. Surely Jackie never felt like this. That’s why he was a hero and Ro isn’t.

No, no.

Even saying that is letting the self-hatred win. He has to be stronger than it.

He slumps back into the hard plastic of the hospital chair at JJ’s side. Pulls the hood up over his head and hides in it, eyes closed, hugging his body the same way Jack did.

Okay. He’s okay. He just needs to calm down. He just got a little spooked. He’s okay. If Blue were here, he’d rock him and tell him he loves him and that it’s alright to be scared. If Max were here, he’d sit with him and talk to him until the terror passed and tell him he’s not going anywhere, even if he does get too angry and too loud and too aggressive sometimes.

And JJ sits with him, and doesn’t go anywhere either.

“Shit,” whispers Ro, beginning to uncurl from his ball when five minutes have passed. “I’m sorry for yelling at you… shit. I shouldn’t have grabbed him like that either. I don’t know why I… I’m sorry.”

JJ nods quietly, staring at him.

nikkilbook asked: Out of... curiosity, what would happen if we were able to help JJ get on meds and other supports from the very beginning? Would that do anything to prevent or weaken the psychotic episode that made Jack forget them?

“No, sorry,” says JJ softly, giving you a fleeting smile. “This is the timeline where Jack did create us and does know who we are. Nothing we do here will change the present. But thank you for thinking of me.”

Anonymous asked: You know the truth Ro. Anti is not, and never has been, your brother. You know the truth of brotherhood, and you've been there every time he's broken it.

It’s a truth that both of them are still struggling to grasp. It cuts Ro deep. He’s made Anti his whole life - his protection, his leadership, his service. But he’s known for a long time that his little brother does not love him. He’s told him things like that to his face, but Red still stays, because he wants to believe something different. The thought that all of this time and this life and this love that he’s given to Anti was for nothing is almost worse than if he had been trying to escape this whole time.

I gave myself over to this monster. I loved him. I never should have. We have to get away from him or I will never stop finding excuses for him.

For JJ’s part, what you’re saying is the truth of not just the last year, but of his whole existence. There was never anything but Anti. JJ tried for years to love him, and it was never enough. A part of him - fuck, more than a part of him - wishes desperately that he could still change his brother. Beneath his anger and his hurt, he just wishes that he had ever been enough to make Anti love him back. Maybe he did, time to time, but it never lasts.

Anonymous asked: Red, I know, bud. I know it's a really fucking hard thing to think about. I wouldn't want to kill any of my little siblings either. But killing Anti could save the life of Dok, or Trick, or Blue, or Jamie, it might be that for one of them to live Anti has to die. I'm sorry, Red, I know this is incredibly hard. And it doesn't have to happen now, okay? No one says you have to go back to your time and kill him immediately. But you might have to later, Red, love, and I'm sorry you do.

“Even if I don’t kill him,” whispers Red, whispers Ro, whispers Jackie. “We still have to go. Like I promised you. I’ll get you away from him. Okay?”

“Okay,” answers JJ despondently. “Okay.”

“I really shouldn’t have grabbed Jack. He asked me to stop and I didn’t even listen. If someone did that to me I’d lose it. I’ve got to go tell him I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have much time.”

nikkilbook asked: You are not to blame for choosing to love him. Either of you. He is wrong for choosing to hurt you with it.

“You know what? You’re fucking right. Especially because he’s a goddamn hypnotist. I just… I don’t understand why he would go to all this trouble of making us feel this way for him if he didn’t really want to love us back. We could be a real family… why not just kill us? I - ”

He catches sight of Jack, still sitting in the stairway, right where Red left him.

His face is covered by his hands. His glasses are abandoned on the ground beside him. He doesn’t move.

Red steps down towards him, mouth opening, but no words come out.

He stands above Jack for a long minute. His creator never moves.

Ro sits down beside him and touches his arm.

Jack lets his head fall against Jackie’s shoulder, face still hidden, crying quietly into his hands. And it’s only now that Ro sees just how tired he is - it’s in the curve of his shoulders, the bow of his legs, the subtle shaking of his fingers.

“Have you… been staying up with JJ at the hospital?” asks Ro softly.

“Don’t want to let Anti get him again,” whispers Jack. “Don’t want him to get any of you again. But now I know I can’t protect you. It’s my fault. I should have killed him when he was crying for me. It’s my fault.”

Anonymous asked: Jack? I don't know if you can see this, if so Red maybe tell him, but Jack, it's not your fault for being kind enough to spare him. I'm sorry that he took that and used it against the others, but Jack, you are not to blame for letting him go. You couldn't know what was going to happen. You're not to blame.

“Hey,” says Jackie, taking his hand in his own, drawing it away from his face. Jack looks up at him with Anti’s eyes. It makes Ro’s heart hurt.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” says Jack, eyes red, voice rasping. “I should never have let this happen.”

And Red wants to tell him a million things, everything you’ve told him to say and more. Things like “it’s not your fault” and “it’s not wrong that you loved him, that you didn’t want to kill him, I feel the same way” and “I know I wasn’t very nice, but I hope you know that I have wondered about you for the longest time and that, even though it hurt, I think meeting you just this once fixed something inside of me - ”

But it’s too late.

Time’s up.

“Jack,” says Red, and then he’s gone.

Anonymous asked: Did any time pass at all? Are we back to the bathtub?

You are back in the bathtub.

Ro struggles for a second, spasming against the ropes that bind him before he realizes his situation and surroundings and forces himself to quiet again, shaking with the pain of his aching muscles and the discomfort of being bound and wet.

That’s when he becomes aware of the screaming.

“Hey, wake up!” Anti shrieks, shaking Dapper’s shoulders. “My little brother, my little brother!”

Time has passed.

Dapper is unconscious, bleeding from his nose - he has been for several minutes.

“What’s wrong with you?” Anti tears the collar off his throat and cradles him against his chest. “He was fine! I was watching, he was fine! Dapper! Jamie!”

“Anti,” begins Red shakily.

“Shut up!” screams Anti. “This is your fucking fault for stealing his medicine! Get the fuck out of my sight! Carver, Monochroma!”

Red yelps as the rope around his body combusts into a short burst of flame, singeing his legs and his blue hoodie.

Anonymous asked: Red? Dap? You guys okay?

Red is shaken and hurting, but no worse than he has been the rest of the night. He still desperately, desperately wants to get out, get a shower, put on clean clothes, and just sleep, but now his little brother is weak.

Dapper has gone frigid pale, but then he’s always so white. This nosebleed is worse than most of his casual ones. It’s like a vessel has popped in his nose, sending streams of red dribbling down his mustache and beard and all the way down to his shirt. Ro thinks he sees him twitch for a moment, his eyes flickering, and he wonders if it’s safer for Dapper to be unconscious as long as his eyes are silver anyway. He recovered alright last time, didn’t he? But he’s still so black and blue from the night before, still wheezing and trapped in Anti’s arms…

“I said get out!” shouts Anti, throwing a shampoo bottle hard at Ro’s head. Ro startles and leaps out of the tub, retreating to the doorway of the bathroom.

Anonymous asked: red, can you go? i don't trust anti at all, but he sounds actually worried for dapper and so i think you should leave him be, i don't think dapper will get hurt worse.

“Okay, okay,” he pants, backing out of the room. “Just… keep an eye on him for me.”

Dripping water, he races away and down the stairs, casting one glance back at that room at the top of the hall. The door slams shut and locks.

Anonymous asked: anti, is he okay?

“Well, I don’t know, I don’t know what went wrong!” he cries, sweeping Dapper into his arms and rising like he weighs nothing. “It’s not catatonia, it’s not a concussion, he’s breathing alright… shit, Dap, what were you doing? Oh, fuck’s sake, this is cracked, and not in the good way.”

He’s gripping at Dapper’s side, feeling the shifting of his ribs.

“Goddamn, goddamn… I barely threw him around! He’ll have to rest. I’ll tape it. It will hurt for a long time, but he’s still breathing well enough. Nothing punctured. Come here, my doll, lie down…”

Anonymous asked: do you think this might be his body shutting down from getting hurt, or something?

“It’s because he time-traveled,” mumbles Red from the bottom of the stairs, looking up at locked door. “Going back a day or so - he can do that maybe a half-dozen times without it knocking him out. But going back so far… it’s like in Colombia, when he passed out afterwards. It takes a lot out of him.”

Ro sighs and rubs at his face, stepping into the hallway, looking around. Everything is so quiet. Where are the others?

“Think I’m going to get a shower,” he mumbles. “I’m gross and exhausted.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, do you know how to help him?

Anti grits his teeth in frustration and turns away from you, setting Dapper down in their bed. He sinks into the mattress and the pillows as Anti pulls the blankets over him and strokes his knuckle down the side of his face, his own expression twisting with fear and anger and exhaustion all at once.

“Why do you keep causing me so much trouble?” he growls, though his voice breaks halfway through. He grabs Dapper’s unmoving face between his fingers, trembling with the urge to squeeze until he leaves bruises. He forces himself to let go instead, sinking down onto his knees beside him. “You used to be so good for me. We never fought. I never had to discipline you. Why did this fall apart…”

He growls again and strikes his own face like he’s waking himself up, letting a shiver run up his spine and then, with a soft sigh that ruffles the bedsheets, letting his head sink onto the bed beside his brother, and closing his eyes.

Dapper’s eyes flicker, showing blue and silver. Anti is lying beside him, touching his hand. It hurts Dapper’s heart.

Anonymous asked: Red, you doing alright?

“Um, no, everything sucks and I’m probably going to lose it later and just… I just need a break. From all this. Hey, at least Blue’s not in bed. Worried about him sleeping so much. Don’t tell him I’m upset. I’m just getting a shower, okay? See you guys later. And… thanks for the help.”

He leaves you on his bed and heads into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes for the hamper as he goes.

Anonymous asked: Is Dap still out?

Anti’s eyes slide open as Dapper’s fingers curl around his own.

They look at each other. Dapper’s eyes, barely open, are tired and silent. He’s joyless lately. He’s numb.

“Where’d my little boy go?” mumbles Anti, pressing his forehead against their joined hands.

Dapper closes his eyes again. The wind is brushing against the screen over their window. The trees sway outside. A clock is ticking.

“Look,” says Anti. “I… I didn’t think about how Dark would scare you. Alright? I should have. I just wanted to see them again. I didn’t do it on purpose to make you upset. I didn’t realize you were still upset about them. I could have asked.”

Dapper blinks, opening his eyes to look at him.

“Dap. I’m sorry.”

Dapper’s mouth parts. He glances away, awake now. Anti doesn’t look up from their hands.

“When I said I wanted us to be friends again,” he mumbles, quiet and begrudging. “I meant it.”

Dapper touches his side, his bruised face darkening with unhappiness and hurt - and something deeper, too.

Anonymous asked: Are you more hurt than before, dap, or is it just still hurting?

“I’m more tired than before,” he admits, drawing his hand gently away from Anti’s. “That’s all.”

“Maybe you just needed a second out,” sighs Anti. “But I couldn’t wake you up. Just rest. You’re such a fucking… I just… just… just rest.”

Dapper nods, not sure what to say.

“I didn’t mean for you to get really hurt. I was just mad. Don’t do that again.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, you're calm now? Not gonna hurt anyone at the moment?

“Why don’t you fuck off,” sneers Anti, turning to you, but Dapper takes his hand and pulls his attention back.

“Yeah, we’re done,” mutters Anti, nuzzling back into his hand. “Quiet time, whatever. We’re going to stay up here and watch the trees so Dark doesn’t try to pull shit tonight. Tonight or tomorrow, I expect. We’re just resting.”

Anonymous asked: Don't fall for his same old excuse Jamie. "I was just angry" doesn't cut it this time. Don't forgive him this time, he could have killed you and Ro.

“Look, you shouldn’t have taken that medicine.”

“I just didn’t want to be - ”

“You have to listen to me, Dap! I wasn’t going to let anything actually happen to you.”

Dapper sighs, shaking his head. Anti squirms, frustrated, and gets to his feet. He touches Dapper’s beard and strokes his fingers through the short hairs. Carver looks up at him, his body aching.

“It’s been hard sleeping without you,” says Anti.

Dapper purses his mouth, but he nods. It’s been hard for him too.

Anonymous asked: He used love as a tool of manipulation. The main reason he bothered with love, with the brother and twin hierarchy, was to ensure you never left him and went back to Jack, was to ensure you never stood up for your true family, to solidify the deaths of your sense of self.

Manipulation. Tools. Weaponry. Love.

The slow death of self.

Red stands in the shower and thinks about it, head bowed, the water running down his skin.

But for Dapper - for JJ, for Carver, for Monochroma - there never was any self before Anti. There was never anyone to go back to.

“You have to be nicer to me if you want to be friends,” he protests weakly. “You can’t keep hurting me.”

“I… I’m sorry about the cracked rib too,” says Anti. “Okay? Fuck. I shouldn’t have fucked around with your medication in the first place. It was stupid. I’m sorry. But you can’t just disobey me either. You’re rebellious by nature because we’re cut from the same cloth, Dap. You and me - we’re the same. But at the same time, I’m big brother, and I’m the one who has to be in charge. Sometimes you make things so hard from me… I’ve been trying to make amends and it’s like you threw it back in my face. We’re supposed to be brothers. You know I don’t have anyone without you… not really.”

Dapper’s eyes water. He turns away, closing his eyes.

Anti sighs, a slight whimper in the noise. He puts a hand on Dapper’s side to be mindful of his ribs, and then he crawls into the bed beside him, and - carefully, carefully - wraps himself around his baby brother.

“Why you’re crying?” he whispers, stroking his hair. “It’s okay now. I’m sorry. I am. I’m right here.”

But Dapper doesn’t know why he’s crying. It’s not even because of the pain of every part of his body being coated in bruising. He doesn’t know.

“You have to stop hurting me, Anti, I don’t understand, I try to be good… I love you, I do, I…”

Anti listens to him. Pressed against his body. Rocking him gently against the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

He holds him for a long time.

“You’re tired. Sleep. We’ll rest. I’ll watch. Go to sleep.”

Anti lays his body down against the bed, pushing the pillows beneath him and tucking him in. He strokes Dapper’s beard, staring at him.

“I love you,” he whispers, his eyes closing, like it’s not a truth he can admit while looking him in the face.

Dapper closes his eyes too, hot with tears. The pressure on the bed beside him could just as well be Jack, watching over him in the hospital, but it isn’t.

It never is.

He’s so tired.

“I love you too,” he signs, and JJ lets his head rest against his brother’s.

Anonymous asked: Trick, Blue, Dok, are you three still alright?

You can find Trick and Dok dozing on the couch downstairs. Trick’s been talking to him and trying to ground him for a few hours now, and he’s exhausted from the emotional toil - but he still figures he’s doing better than his twin, who is only just now coming back from his panic.

At least Dok looks cozy and content now. Trick’s wrapped him up in blankets and made him a cup of the coffee he gave him for Christmas. Dok is so enamored with the smell he hasn’t even bothered to drink any yet. He sits breathing in the smell and holding the warm mug in his hands, his knees drawn up to his chest and his eyes sleeping. Trick lies down on the couch beside him. They haven’t seen Blue in a while when Trick hears his footsteps coming down the stairs.

Anonymous asked: Blue? Dok? Where are you guys? Is everything okay?

“Trick,” says Blue softly, padding towards him.

“Hmmmm,” hums Trick, lounging beside his brother. He lets his eyes slide open and finds himself very suddenly wide awake.

“Blue? Why do you have…?”

He trails off, staring up at him.

Blue holds the big kitchen knife limply in his left hand.

“I was thinking about cutting myself,” he says.

His voice is very dull. His face is numb. He barely looks at Trick. Like he’s seeing right through him.

“But then I thought I should tell somebody.”

“Oh,” says Trick. “Good… good job. Telling. Yeah. Can I have that?”

Blue lets him take the knife from him. Trick is stammering too much to speak. Dok takes a long drink of his coffee and lets out a deep, contented sigh, his eyes glazed.

“Dok looks better,” says Blue, turning to head back up the stairs.

“Come here, bud, come here,” gasps Trick, finding his voice. “Hang out with us a while, yeah, love?”

“Okay, Tricky.”

“Okay.”

Anonymous asked: Blue, you ok?

Blue squints at the camera.

“They asked if you’re okay,” Trick manages.

Blue looks at him like he doesn’t understand the question. Trick reaches out and grips his hand tightly, drawing him down to sit with them.

“What’s, uh. Are you… What’s going on?” asks Trick shakily.

“Not much,” answers Blue. “How ‘bout you?”

“We’re… we’re… Blue, what’s going on?”

“Not much, Trick.”

Trick scrapes at his hair, gritting his teeth in his mouth. “Blue, why were you going to cut yourself? Please help me understand?”

Blue stares down at the silver gleam of the blade in his brother’s hand.

“I was just in the bathroom and I thought maybe it would help. But then I thought, I have to tell someone, because that’s not right.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

“Well, yeah, you’re my darling,” says Blue. At last, Trick hears a little emotion in his voice: fondness. But still no fear or distress. He’s just… numb.

“I just wanted to check,” says Blue.

“Check what?”

“That the blood… that the blood is mine,” answers Blue bizarrely, touching Trick’s cheek. “Oh, dear… I’m feeling a little faint. I’m really far away from you. I don’t know where I am.”

“Roll your pants up a little and let me check you didn’t hurt yourself.”

Blue obeys, unperturbed. His thighs and stomach and arms are all untouched. Trick grips at his shoulder, massaging his muscles, and Blue relaxes a little.

“You like to be touched when you’re like this, right?” asks Trick, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Blue nods, eyes flickering. Trick pushes towards him and wraps him arms tightly, tightly around him, kissing his cheek and pressing their bodies close together. He can feel his own chest shaking. He doesn’t want to get triggered, but he won’t leave Blue alone.

Anonymous asked: Blue, if you're interested to know, Anti just kicked out Red of the bathroom he chained him in. It's, uh, it's good news yeah?

Blue sighs through his nose, humming a little.

“Better a bathroom than flesh to keep us. Still stuck, though. Still stuck. I’m in the walls of this house. Or nowhere at all.”

You hear Trick swear quietly against him, but he just holds him tighter, rubbing circles into his shoulder with his thumb.

.

“Hey,” somebody whispers, but Dok is really too tired to care who.

“Mpf,” he replies, letting his head lull over to the other side of the couch. This has the chain reaction of stirring Blue from his sleep, but he too only flops back onto the arm of the couch.

The hand that reaches down to brush Dok’s shoulder is warm. He hears a tired little laugh. “Come on, Schneep, wake up.”

“Mmffff��. I’m up, I’m up. Trick?”

“It’s Roser.”

“Where’s Trick?”

“I waited til he went upstairs to cook you guys some dinner. I need to talk to you.”

Dok tries to rouse himself at last, shoving his glasses back up his nose and turning to look at Red. “What’s going on?”

There are eyes crossed out on your cameras. Ro has turned Anti’s sight away. They don’t have long before he notices.

“Dok,” says Red, looking him in the eyes. “Have you really been planning to kill Anti?”

Adrenaline pours into Dok’s blood and he chokes, sitting up quickly on the couch, drawing his knees to his chest. He’s going to flip out. He’s going to scream. He’s going to cry again.

“Red, Red,” he gasps, hiding his face from him. “Don’t punish me.”

“Fuck, Dok, no, no, I won’t, I swear, I just… I just need to know. Schneep, don’t cry…”

“He said he’s going to kill me,” sobs Henrik. “In a couple days. He said he’s done with me, he’ll murder me. I’m scared, I don’t want to die.”

“Okay,” says Red quietly, and it’s shocking enough that he doesn’t freak out himself that it makes Henrik almost stop, looking up at him in surprise, sniffling. Red touches the back of his head. “Okay, come on, then. I want you to go get your shoes on.”

“What?”

“Blue’s not well,” answers Red, drawing away from him. Dok sees a backpack stuffed full on his back, his shoes already on his feet, Blue’s cane in his hand. “And you’re in trouble. Come on. We’re going to the hospital.”

[ku-ro-kai]

Forbidden fruit

This is part two of my first one if you haven't seen it there's a link :)

This is where we left off at from the first one

Warning: degradation, angst, choking, hate fucking ,dubcon, edging,humiliation, jealousy, mentions cheating, toxic relationship

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○ l “you’d miss this too much,so you won’t leave,will you? He said with a grip on your ass you know this voice it was dabi. With a sharp inhale removing his arms away from your waist " I knew not to come here, I was trying to avoid you and your little whore's while I'm at it too. He grabbed you by your elbow "who were you talking to earlier?" Must be referring to bakugo"why do you care it shouldn't matter to you we're not together anymore." With those last words you took your arm from him and walked back to the dance floor, walking to a table to calm your nerves thinking on why he cared about who you were around with, is he trying to barge back into life again? Taking a sip from your drink It's like he didn't even care to check on you when he came back from just blowing some girl back out,it filled you with despair anger and sadness when he walked right past you.

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

You got sick of this party you just decided to leave telling your friends the very few goodbyes, once you got back to your apartment you made yourself something to eat, took your shower. You weren't ready just yet to go to bed so you chilled in the living room watching a movie getting a sudden notification from bakugo who was just checking on you,it made feel better since he's coming to hang out at your place tomorrow.

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

You giggled at the few sly remarks he made about dabi letting out a low yawn finally ready to go to bed until you felt a hand clench at your jaw with the other grabbing your phone "you wanna explain to me why your talking about me to this fucker." slapping his hand away from your face " How did you get in my house!? " He only whistled swinging the key you gave him a few months ago for your house " Your not gonna answer my questions (name)? " You back up a little "No you need to get the hell out my apartment." He dropped the keys on the sofa walking towards you still holding your phone "he's coming over tomorrow? What your planning on fucking him behind my back" Tossing your phone on the floor "you didn't even open my gift. Least ya could've did was call me , tell me how you liked the little video." 'Those cold eyes just glaring at your soul without a single care as if he didn't break your heart' he gets closer reaching a hand out you slapped him " The audacity to come in my house go through my phone and say I'm fucking someone behind your back when you cheated on my first! Then you try to come back in my life when you sent the video" Shoving him in the chest with your finger "you look so hot when your mad at me but look I'm here to apologize for my entanglement." With a slight smirk He moved your hand away from his chest with you turning your face away" I hate you so much dabi " Tears forming in the corner of your eyes He tugged down your waistline of your shorts getting on his knees throwing your legs over his shoulders "I hate you too".

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

How could you let yourself go so easily? Your ex slurping your juices from your abused cunny dominating your clit on his vibrating tongue piercing leaving you to be a quivering shaking mess with your grip on his hair, is this his way of saying sorry? Making you whimper and moan his name "seems like my little slut did miss me" Gliding his index and middle finger down your wet slit he got up sat next to your head pulling you by your hair pushing his groin in your face "after all that work to pleasure you I think you need to return the favor doll" Unbuckling his pants looking at how hard he was from here,you slid his boxers down til you were swatted in the face with his cock.

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

This position was new to you, dabi's cock face fucking you in his lap as he fingers you. He groaned at the way your head bobed on his cock up close you looked hot going down on him, moving at a rough pace with his fingers grazing against you g-spot had your insides clenching down on him. It was coming your release taking over but dabi pulled his fingers out while he slid your head off his dick with a quiet moan he came on your cheek watching it slide down your lips "you don't cum just yet doll face,you look better like this don't you think (name) ." He pulled you up by your hair turning you to face a mirror on the wall. You looked like a mess tears stains on your face with dabi cum glued to your cheek .

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

This is wrong isn't it? It feels so wrong but God does it feel good, he had you sitting in his lap your sweet pussy gliding down his cock holding you by your thighs to keep you in balance mercilessly fucking you while facing a mirror marking every empty spot on your neck with a hickey. It sounded like he said something but all you could hear was skin slapping together and broken moans"you listening doll face! " Slapping your clit made you yelp clenching tighter around him a low moan came from him tightening his grip around your thighs "I missed fucking you into oblivion baby, hearing you moan out whimpers letting my cock destroy your insides like the perfect whore. You should be glad I came back to fulfill your needs." You felt it again the heat pooling in, reaching down to give your clit attention but dabi only slapped it away "sluts like you don't need to touch themselves, cum on my dick"trying to forget your wanted attention on your clit dabi few thrust hit against your cervix causing you to grab at his hair " s-slow down." Barely able to form a sentence though it didn't work he kept fucking you relentlessly making you both cum at the same time curling your toes with your mouth hung open, getting felt up upon you could feel dabi playing with your slit rubbing his seed around your hole.

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

You felt bad afterwards but knowing dabi you had the intention that he make it worse, surprisingly he didn't. Picking you to go wash yourself up, he did have to hold you so you wouldn't fall either way it felt way different from before he never took showers together or washed you, "and here you thought I was bad at aftercare." Scoffing at the sentence " Your only doing this to make me feel better about what you did." He kissed at your collar bones "but isn't it working?" You didn't answer you knew he was right. You looked in the mirror neck all covered in hickeys to smaller ones on your ears, this his way of marking you of his. He dragged you into bed hugging your stomach you could feel patch of wet spots-was he crying?! Or was he putting more marks on you, you pulled him off "go ahead and spit it out." He pulled his tongue back in his mouth "sorry I guess now get over it already you cry baby." Was he serious "That's not even a-" He pulled you into a sloppy kiss"stop talking." Kissing you on your cheek afterwards he pushed you into his chest rubbing circles on your shoulders " I love okay is that what you wanna hear" You pinched his nipple piercing "yes, took you long enough."

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

It's finally out , kinda feel rushed at certain points but I managed. Follow me for more❤

[scarxetrebel]

   🔥   TRAINING WINGS.  ┋   →  @ofpxtestatem​

( ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳ / ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ )

        THE DRAGON LADY LEFT THEM ONE MESSAGE, in the form of a projection, requesting they meet her in the FORBIDDEN FOREST ─────── forty-eight hours later. that request wouldn’t been half bad, if not for the fact they’d have to conceal an illegal, untrained, highly-volatile baby dragon. not only did scarlet get the least inconspicuous one, she was pretty sure  CRIMSON  knew what he was doing too. LIL FUCKER WAS SLY. it had eaten some of natalie’s hair, brought down lydia’s bed drapes and destroyed rose’s spare robes; all in a single, sleepless night. since then, scarlet had not slept in the dormitory. or slept at all. 

        …SHE KIND OF ADORED HIM THOUGH. he had spunk. crimson scratched her with his little claws as he searched her for snacks now, climbing up and down. ‘ i told you i wouldn’t get you food if you burnt my blanket. you burnt the blanket. no snacks. i bet  NIGHT  behaved, night got snacks. ’ had he? at least when ella hummed that incessant tune, it seemed to. crimson slithered up and down her arm, hissing as if it might blow a fireball at her. she should have been scared  ───────  but as she gave him a stern look, he only sputtered a few angry hisses, going back to his resting space on the crook of her neck.

         AWAITING HER, GLASSES RESTING CROOKLEDLY ON HIS NOSE, was a boy with a beautiful white-gold dragon.  AUREA  seemed wide awake, unlike crimson, but made almost no sound as she flickered her wings in greeting. lewis was grinning, looking well-rested and unaffected by the weekend’s ordeal.  SCARLET HATED HIM.  he knew it too, giving her a shrug as she delicately descended the last step of the giant staircase, so as to not wake the nightmare that slept on her shoulder. ‘ …where’s lestrange and malfoy? ’ the only dragon scarlet had not seen all weekend belonged to scorpius, whom she had kind of avoided. 

         ‘ SHOULD BE AT THE ENTRANCE. elladora is in a bad mood, i think. or maybe it’s me? ’  s️carlet scoffed, forgetting crimson was asleep  ─────── he reminded her by growling, as if she woke him up.  THE HIPOCRISY. as the two of them reached the doorway, the sight of malfoy and lestrange made this. . . real. wasn’t this all a SLEEP-DEPRIVED DREAM? she sighed, attempting to look unaffected by HIM. ‘ if anyone wakes up crimson, prepare to lose eyebrows. ’ luckily scarlet had long learnt the spell to grow them back. emerald hesitantly met cerulean, happy to find he looked more ALIVE. less. . . HAUNTED.

                                           beside him, a tiny, CUTE, dangerous…  GREEN THING.                                                 ‘ any more INTOXICATIONS? or are you FRIENDS now? ’ 

[i-the-hell-is-bvcky]

Summary: Reader is a bounty hunter for SHIELD and Steve is the world’s best mercenary who SHIELD wants to catch. So what happens when she meets him and that plan goes out the window? This is part 7/10

Word count: 1,238

Warnings: Swears, violence, assault mention

*5 Months Later*

“Yn you got eyes on the target?” Rhodey says through the comm in her ear. With no luck gathering enough information on Steve to bring him in, the Italian job was a bust which sent the team back home to NYC to a very grumpy Nick Fury. After a few nights of drinking to drown the team’s collective sorrow, and Yn’s guilt with sleeping with the target numerous times, it was time to get back to work. The new target is a big time investment banker with money and influence in almost everything in the city. For years it was a known-known that he was a sleazy guy, using his money and power to abuse women and some men into doing whatever he wanted. Every time someone tried to speak up about it, they ended up dead or were made to sign a NDA to never speak about it again. Some even had to change their names and move out of the states to even make a living. SHIELD usually handles international criminals but this case was personal to Natasha so Nick let the team have it. The team received a tip that this banker was going to be in town for business and was going to engage in his favorite pastime of getting high on some high grade coke and take out his high on some poor soul. Well the jig is up and Yn was going to make sure of it. Too bad she can’t kill him. 

“Pardon my language director but the fuck do you mean I can’t kill him? He clearly doesn’t deserve to breathe any more oxygen.” Nick just sighs from his desk.

“Trust me, as much as I’d like to see you and Nat beat the ever loving shit out of this guy, we have to bring him in alive so he can get his day in court. We can’t be judge, jury, and executioner...unfortunately.” 

So that leaves her here, in a lookout high above the hotel lobby keeping an eye out for when he walks in and making sure no one tries to get to him before SHIELD does. 

“He just got in,” Bucky says in her ear. He’s outside across the street with his favorite gun ready to go, just in case. “I have a clean and clear shot, just say the word Boss.”

“You know your orders Barnes,” Nat tells him. “Lets just do this and get it over with.” 

“He just checked in and is going to the elevator. I’m following now,” Yn says. 

“Good, be aware of your surroundings, it’s almost the holidays so there are a lot of people around.” 

“I know, I gotta move. It's getting crowded now. Fuck, he’s actually going to the courtyard.” Moving from the balcony, Yn heads down the stairs only to be Shit I’m starting to lose sight of him.” Where the fuck did all these people come from? She thinks to herself. Just as Yn stops, all hell breaks loose. People are screaming and when Yn looks for the target, her heart sinks and anger kicks in. 

“BARNES DID YOU FUCKING—”

“NO, WE HAD EYES ON HIM. HOW IS HE? HOW?” Someone shot the target through the middle of his dumb head and now he’s dead bleeding out on the marble floors. Yn has to keep it together before she punches a hole in the wall. She frantically looks around to see the assailant but there’s too much chaos. 

“FUCK!”

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

The next day Yn wakes up with a headache. All these failures and the stress of it all has finally caught up with her. She’s slow to get out of bed and start the day, not like she has much motivation to do so. Sure she’s happy that that fucker is dead but she still let him get killed. It would’ve been nice to give his victims some proper justice and let them see him rot for hopefully the rest of his miserable life, but death is just as good she supposes. As she sips her tea over some toast, she gets a text message from the last person she wants to think about right now.

Steve: meet me for coffee? Say 2pm at that little shop near your place?

Yn closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

Yn: Of course you would know where I live you creep and no

Steve: Ouch and you’re right, that was weird I apologize

Steve: I also have some info you might be interested in

She thinks it over in her head. Meeting Steve is opening up that can of worms she told herself she was going to leave in Italy and now it has followed her home. What info could he possibly provide? She knows he may have something to do with the event the day before but she feels that that is too coincidental. It doesn’t hurt to ask, right?

Yn: Fine. You have ten minutes to tell me what you know and that is it.

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

When Yn arrives at the coffee shop, Steve is already there and he’s even prettier than she remembered. With his stupidly pretty eyes and well kept hair and his dumb navy sweater hugging his biceps like it was painted on has her dizzy. When he sees her, Steve stands up to greet her as she moves toward him. 

“You look lovely, Yn.” He says before gently kissing her cheek. Yn fidgets under his praise and takes the seat he has pulled out for her.

“I know and you don’t look too bad yourself.” 

“Do you want anything? I can get you something,” Steve says but Yn shakes her head in refusal. She has a feeling why he asked her to meet him and she hopes it isn’t true. The desire to get this meeting over with is strong.

“I’m fine thanks. I just want you to get to the point of this little meetup, Steven.” He blinks in surprise, shocked at her sudden change in mood. 

“Alright. You want to get straight to business. Well, I know who killed your team’s last target,” Steve says with a sly smile. If he wasn’t such a pain in Yn’s ass she would have found it sexy. 

“Lemme guess. You?” Yn answers. Steve’s smile widens as Yn’s feels the anger boil up inside her chest. “How fucking dare you!” Yn exclaims loud enough that some patrons turn to look at her. “How fucking dare you be so cute!” Yn tries to cover her outburst and grabs Steve’s face from across the table to kiss him. This seems to appease everyone and all returns to normal. 

“Quite the show, Yn. I do love how you can’t seem to control your emotions. I can only imagine how pissed you must’ve looked when that scumbag hit the floor. I must say, it felt good to kill him. Was about time,” he says into his coffee before taking a sip. Yn kicks him hard in the shin and Steve nearly spills his drink in his lap. 

“I cannot believe this. Do you just like fucking me over?” Rubbing his sore shin Steve smiles that stupid smile again. “Don’t answer that. And just so you know, I hate you.” Yn’s voice is venomous. “Do not contact me again, the next time we see each other, your ass will be in handcuffs.”

“I might like that,” Steve winks. 

[spaceyantique]

five’s a crowd [beatles x reader] part eight

chapter summary: You’re just trying to get through this whole Tinder girl business because it’s NOT affecting you in the slightest. John nurses a particularly cranky hangover, and Paul is the kind of person that drinks milk straight from a glass, apparently. George’s pajamas don’t make this business any easier and Ringo’s heading out for mystery reasons early this Sunday morning.

word count: like 2.1k of i don’t even know what

warnings: sexual implications. drinking, a hangover, general bad language

asterisks correspond to footnotes!

masterlist 

parts one | two | three | four | five | six | seven (oh my!)

“Care for a drink? You’re sulking.” Paul’s standing over you with a shot glass in his hand. As always, he has a talent for seeing straight through people.

“Course. And I’m not sulking,” you say, taking the glass from him. Paul scoffs. 

“Sure, Jan. If looks could kill, that poor girl would be dead.”

God, if only they could. Paul would definitely be right. 

You’re holed up in a booth at the back of the Cavern Club Bar, gripping an empty glass a little too tightly for comfort. George and Maureen are both standing around a table just across the room, his arm loosely draped over her shoulders. Ringo’s on her other side and they all look like they’re having too much fun. You think of how it felt when he put his arm over your shoulders and try to ignore how they practically feel frostbitten now in comparison. She’s not even mean, you think. Hating on some girl you don’t know because of a boy is not good feminism.

“Can I sit?” Paul asks, and you’re forced to tear your eyes away from the happy couple.

“What?” You ask, but he’s already shoving you aside. 

“Lovely place, isn’t it? Much nicer than most of the nightclubs ‘round here. Always thought it would be a treat to perform up there.” Paul nods to the bar. You follow his gaze with a confused look, and he sighs with a smile, then props his head up on his interlaced hands to look at you expectantly.

“What?” You repeat stupidly.

“Drink up,” Paul says, and you do, shuddering at the burn. Tequila.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You say. “You’re usually giggling over John by now.”

“I’m being the best friend in a rom-com. The gay best friend, nonetheless. And I think you should go talk to that guy at the bar.” Paul gestures to a man standing near the stage. He’s tall, but not unnaturally so. He’s wearing a jean jacket and sporting a mess of dark hair to rival John’s untidy mop. 

He’s no George, your brain sneers immediately, and you almost want to scold yourself out loud. 

“Look, dahling.” Paul affects a flamboyant upper-class drawl, and you crack a smile. “There’s no reason you can’t have fun too.”

“You sound like Freddie from upstairs.”

“‘S true,” Paul replies, back to his normal self. “I know how you feel about George--”

“I don’t know what you mean--” you start to say, but Paul holds up his hand to stop you.

“Please let me finish my cliche speech! I know how you feel about George, but you haven’t had anyone to spend the night away with in a while, if you catch my drift.” Paul raises his eyebrows at you and the Pout transforms into a smirk. “So get over there. Don’t make me get John to force you to.”

“God, no. I’ll talk to him,” you say, and Pauls grins, before heaving himself up and disappearing behind a clump of people, probably to suck John’s face off.

As you make your way across the room, George can’t help but notice. He tells himself it’s because the bar is relatively uncrowded, but it’s more than a passing glance. He feels his cheeks heat up as his stomach erupts into butterflies, but Maureen’s laugh from beside him draws him back to reality with a shockingly sobering effect. Still, that cold feeling in the pit of his stomach only gets stronger when he notices where you’re headed.

The man at the bar flashes you a smile as you get close, and you put on your best one in return. 

“Hey,” is all he says.

“Hey,” you say, immediately cringing at the general awkwardness. Okay, so you’re out of practice.

“What’s your name, dolly?” Dolly, really? Still you give him your name and ask for his.

“I’m Eric Clapton. Are you a student around here?” 

All in all, Eric’s sweet, and despite seeming a little like an overgrown fuckboy at first glance, he seems to drink his respecting women juice now. He laughs at your (terrible) jokes and teases you in that flirtatious way, but each time he speaks you find yourself slightly disappointed at the lack of Scouse accent in his words.

Sure, Eric’s sweet, but you don’t take him home that night.

***

The following morning begins much like plenty of others. You’re munching on a bowl of cereal in the kitchen with one of your new textbooks open on the table in front of you and a safe distance from the coffee machine. Ringo shuffles around making his breakfast, his mightily messy hair floating in a cloud around his head. John’s also at the table, severely hungover, his knees to his chest, wrapped in a blanket like a gremlin. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and bitching about the noise anytime anyone speaks.

“Fucking bullshit,” Ringo declares out of nowhere. John hisses at the noise while you turn to see him attempting to mount the countertop. “George keeps putting the fucking sugar in the top cabinet. How ‘m I supposed to get up there?”

“Grow longer bones,” John mumbles helpfully*. Ringo shoots him with a glare and continues trying to climb onto the counter.

“Spent all me growin’ power on my brain, thanks.” 

“And what a big brain it is.” John cracks a grin at his own joke and you roll your eyes.

“Where is George, anyway?” You say, trying your hardest to seem nonchalant. John wiggles his eyebrows at you anyway, grinning like a chimpanzee. You slam your textbook shut and he winces at the sound. For a few seconds, you’re engaged in an intense war of making rude faces back and forth.

“Oh, maybe writing in his diary?” Paul’s entered the kitchen now too, looking overall far too bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked for the volume of alcohol he consumed last night.

“Does he really have a diary?” You ask, and John and Paul share a meaningful glance that you don’t have time to decipher. Ringo’s breakfast sandwich (toast, tomato, and cheese) is done, and when he places it on the table, John lurches forward with a hand over his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” is all he says before he disappears towards the bathroom. Paul, cheerily pouring a glass of milk, makes a sympathetic face at John’s retreating form.

“I should make sure he’s alright,” he says, before going to the cabinet to pick out a cereal. 

“Are you going to?” 

“Well, y’know, I don’t really want to.”

You’re about to repeat Paul’s y’know back to him to tease him before you see which cereal he’s picked out.

“Do NOT touch my goddamn Rice Krispies, you fuck!” 

“Just one fuck,” Ringo says, mostly to himself. 

“But I want them! I’m hungry!” Paul pleads, using the Pout and his droopy eyes to their full potential.

“But I paid for them! And there’s plenty of other cereal!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see your name on them!” 

“Look again, bitch!” You demand, and he does. Sure enough, you’ve Sharpied your name onto the top flap.

“Fucking ridiculous,” Paul mutters, placing the Krispies in their rightful place.

“John’s fine,” Ringo announces. “He’s just sent me a TikTok. And he also told me he’s changed my contact to “Mango Bongo,” so I suppose he’s alright.”*

You and Paul both scramble for your phones to change his name to something equally ridiculous. You settle on “Dingo Presto: Magician Extraordinaire.” Not your best, but it’ll do.

Paul settles at the table where John was sitting before, grouchily eating Cap’n Crunch.

“Paul,” you say. “Why the hell are you eating cereal with milk and drinking a glass of milk at the same time?”

“Strong bones?” Paul shrugs.

“You’re a heathen,” Ringo says, straightening up and brushing the crumbs from his lap. “I’m going out, so I’ve got to get ready.”

“Where the hell are you going on a Sunday?” You ask.

“I’ve-- I’m-- I’ve started dog walking on Sundays,” Ringo stutters out.

“Interesting,” Paul comments before loudly slurping on his milk.

“That’s a job from a damn sitcom! That’s like one of Spencer’s jobs on iCarly!” You call after Ringo, but he’s already disappeared into his and George’s shared room. You almost catch yourself trying to peek inside to see if George is asleep there. Ringo wouldn’t go in if Geo had company, would he?

“That’s odd,” Paul says, and you’re a bit surprised to see he’s as confused as you are. “Wonder if he’s going to see someone.”

“Maybe,” you agree. “The university doesn’t have any classes on Sundays, too.”

As you contemplate Ringo’s departure, John shambles back in with even messier hair. He’s still wearing the sunglasses, but looking less pale and overall gargoyle-ish.

“So, how was that guy last night?” Paul asks, and the look he gives you is indecipherable.

“We left separately, if that’s what you’re asking,” you reply, before adding,  “John, you’d better still those fucking eyebrows before I tear them off your face.”

“Aggression! You wound me, birdie.”

“Why didn’t you go off with him? You looked like you were having a good time,” Paul asks, taking another gratuitous sip of his fucking milk.

“Who are you, my mother? I just didn’t want to,” you say, perhaps a bit too harshly. You open your textbook again to a random page and start reading, more to make a point than anything else. 

“George left alone too, in case you were wondering.” John’s comment affects you more than you’d like to admit, zapping through the early morning fog in your brain and making you feel electric.

“Why would I wonder about that?” You ask, but John just smiles that rat-bastard smile. Paul’s sly grin matches John’s, and you slam your textbook closed a second time, again for emphasis.

“You two fuckers are up to something. And you’re not good at hiding it,” you huff.

“Up to no good, my pretty?” John cackles in a spot-on impression of the Wicked Witch of the West. 

“Yes, you’re up to no good! I don’t like it.” You place your cereal bowl in the sink and hoist your stack of textbooks into your arms. As you leave the kitchen, you catch snippets of their conversation.

“You’ve butchered it--” Paul’s hushed whisper.

“Well, now we’ve got them both--” John’s pointed drawl. “So don’t worry--”

Fucking assholes, the both of them. You pass the tiny living room to head to your bedroom and nearly run straight into George.

He looks like he’s just rolled out of bed. His eyes are still a bit swollen from sleep, and you can see the imprint of the creases on his pillow on his right cheek. His curls are smashed on that side too, while the hair on the other side of his head sticks out like half a halo, glowing in the morning sunlight that streams through the living room window. You also notice almost immediately that he’s shirtless, and the pajama bottoms he’s wearing are untied and loose around the waist. They sit low on his hips, exposing a trail of hair on his abs and the top of a v-line that leads--

You exercise every bit of willpower you have to reset your gaze to eye level.

“Good morning,” you force out, trying to sound casual.

“Morning,” he says, and you feel a fluttering somewhere underneath your collarbones at his deep, gravelly, morning voice. Neither of you speaks for a moment, and you’re suddenly thankful to be holding your books over your chest because they provide a shield between George’s gaze and the deafening thumping of your heart.

“Ringo’s just gone out,” you blurt, if only to break the awkwardness.

“On a Sunday?” You shrug and nod at the same time in reply. What the hell is wrong with you? Speak! He’s your friend!

“John and Paul are in the kitchen, so I’m going to do my work in my room.”

George nods, glancing towards the two bastards. You nod again (idiot) and start to make for your room.

“Did you--” You turn back at the sound of George’s voice, already feeling breathless. “Were you here all night?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You?”

“Yeah.” He gives you a little smile and nod before you continue to your room. Once inside, you close your door and lean back against it, feeling almost dizzy with relief. 

Little do you know, George is still standing exactly where you left him. The strange cold feeling that settled deep in his stomach as he watched you talking with Eric is starting to thaw now in the bright morning sunlight. Still, if you could see his face, you’d agree that the smile on his face is a thousand times brighter.

***

footnotes:

*from this post

*This joke is partially from Finding Nemo. Nemo is called several different names throughout the movie by Dory, including Fabio, Pedro, Harpo, and Elmo. I shall not be accused of joke stealing!

five’s a crowd tag list: @1-2beeble​ @beatlevmania​ @theclassicsl​ @withthebeables​ @thasbooooooi​ @geostarr​ @report-abuse​ 

[anony-mony-moose]

Let’s Stay Together - Izzy Stradlin x Reader (Part 1)

After a particularly crappy few weeks, Y/N manages to lose both her job and her apartment. She's generally known as a bit of a mess, but still struggles to accept help - even when it's being offered by the lovely Izzy. OR a couple of unfortunate events result in Izzy's pal (with occasional benefits) becoming Izzy's gal

look out for swearing and drug use

also on ao3 :)

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

I rapped on the metal door quickly and stretched out a yawn. I was exhausted. Last night’s party had carried on into this morning, and then this afternoon, (which seemed to be happening a lot lately) and I’d gone straight from there to work so I was yet to get some sleep. I propped myself up against the wall and waited for somebody to answer, fighting to keep my eyes open.

The door swung open and I jumped up, blinking, to see Angus sticking his head out enthusiastically.

“Hey Y/N! Long time no see! I’ll go grab him for you.”

The door clanged shut just as quickly as it had opened, and I rubbed my forehead, yawning lazily again. There was a muffled yell inside, before the door opened and Izzy sauntered out.

He grinned when he saw me. His hands were busy digging around in the pocket of his apron.

“Hey man, how’s it goin’?” His hand finally emerged with a joint and he popped it between his lips. “Thought you had work today?” He mumbled.

I made a face and tossed him a pack of matches. “Just got canned.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No fuckin’ way.” He sparked up and blew out a long stream of smoke, the sunlight making him squint as he passed them back to me. “Man, that sucks. What happened?”

I stretched tiredly and accepted the joint, taking a drag and holding it for a second. My head was aching something awful.

I exhaled slowly. “Apparently, I was lucky enough to find the only club in fuckin’ LA that actually minds it’s employees getting high in the back room.”

He burst out laughing, “Right, real bad luck. Totally outta your control.”

I grinned and sidled over to lean against the wall next to him, taking another quick drag before passing it back. There was always something strangely comforting about talking to Izzy – even when he was teasing me.

“Well come on, it’s not like I was doin’ it on the fuckin’ bar.”

“Yeah, that’s true. You already tried that at Angelica’s, didn’t work out too good for you did it?” He glanced at me with a sly smirk on his stupid face.

I rolled my eyes and pressed my lips together, trying and failing to look annoyed.

“You are such a prick, Izzy.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled, blowing smoke out again.

“I come here for a bit of reassurance, maybe a little pat on the arm, it’s all gonna be alright Y/N, don’t worry Y/N!” I grumbled jokingly, a smile still plastered to my face, “What do I get as soon as I arrive? Oh, here Y/N, here is a list of all the other jobs you’ve lost! What, sympathy? Never heard of it.”

He laughed and pulled me towards him with an arm around my shoulders. “Aw honey, you want me give you some sympathy?”

I grinned and shoved him away. “I’m upset, okay!”

“Yeah, you look pretty distressed.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I am!”

He snickered for a second, before stepping closer again and frowning slightly.

“You kinda look like shit, actually.”

I hummed and let my head fall back against the wall with a thud, closing my eyes gently. “Coming down from last night.”

I heard him step towards me again so, dozily, I opened my eyes. “My break’s over. I gotta go back to work, you know, to my job.” He murmured. I rolled my eyes and punched his shoulder. He just smirked at me, took one last quick drag of the joint and held it up to me. “You can finish that, if you’re not too upset.” I narrowed my eyes at him playfully and took it.

“Thanks, dickhead.” I grumbled.

He laughed and turned back towards the door, before stopping. “Hey, what did you come by for anyway?”

I frowned for a second before my brain kicked back into action. “Oh right, yeah. D’you mind if I sleep at yours for a couple hours?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Now?”

“Uh, yeah if that’s alright.”

He frowned slightly but was already rooting around in his jean pockets. “Sure, that’s fine.” He fished out a set of keys and threw them to me.

Catching them, I pushed myself away from the wall and tried to think of a fast excuse. “Can’t be bothered walking all the way back to mine.”

“Seriously, it’s fine.” He yanked the door open then turned back to me again, smirking. “I’ll see ya when I get home, honey.”

I grinned sleepily and waved. “Have a good time at work, sweetheart!” He winked at me, then disappeared inside as the door fell shut.

*****

Someone was trying to break down the door. At least, that was what it sounded like. I groaned and rolled over to plant my face in the pillow. Instead, I was met with something scratchy and- I scrunched my face up and blinked my eyes open. Carpet. The thumping outside was still going on, and someone was shouting now.

Where the fuck was I?

“Y/N, open the damn door!”

Shit, I thought sleepily, that’ll be the landlord. How late was I on rent this time? Too late to go back to sleep and deal with it later?

I sat bolt upright. Shit. No rent. Angry landlord. No apartment. My eyes focused and I realised that this couldn’t be my place.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake!” The banging started again.

I rubbed my forehead and clambered to my feet. I was at Izzy’s – and now I was awake, that clearly sounded like Izzy’s voice shouting outside. I shuffled over to the door. He probably didn’t have a spare key, poor bloke. I hoped he hadn’t been waiting for too long.

I slipped the chain from the door and yanked it open, moving to the side so he could come in.

“Took you long enough. Thought you fuckin’ died or somethin’.” He slinked in past me and smiled, shrugging off his jacket. “Have a good nap?”

I hummed. “Haven’t slept like that in ages. Out like a fuckin’ light, soon as I got here.” He dumped the jacket on the counter and pulled a bottle of whiskey from the paper bag in his hand. “How was work, darling?”

He snorted and took a swig. “It was great. When’s dinner?”

“Think you might be drinkin’ it.”

He smirked and offered the bottle to me, striding over to sort through the jumble of clothes in the corner of the room. I had a few gulps as I followed him and sat down on the bed (well, a mattress on the floor), watching him fish something out of the pile. He started pulling off his work shirt as he talked.

“You’re comin’ out tonight, right?”

I nodded and leaned back on my elbows, rubbing my back a little. I hated sleeping on the floor. I hadn’t had to do that sober in a long time. I had another drink. “What’s happening?”

He slipped on a white button up, half unbuttoned of course, and reached out for the bottle. “Well, I was meant to be meetin’ the guys right about now. Couldn’t get into my apartment though.”

I smirked. “Shit, that’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah, some asshole locked me out.” He raised his eyebrows in a challenge as he wandered past me to pick up his jacket again, but stopped and did a bit of a double-take when he passed my own jacket balled up on the floor. “Did you sleep on my floor?”

I cocked my head to the side. “Uh… Is that a problem?”

He bent down to pick it up and handed it to me with an amused, slightly puzzled look on his face. “Well, there is a bed right there Y/N.”

“Right. Thought it might be a bit weird for you to come home and find me, you know… Asleep in your bed.” Obviously I’d woken up in his bed before, but that was only ever the morning after. Plus, he was there too. It felt a little different doing that sober, and without him even present in the apartment.

He just laughed, and went to get his coat on. “You can sleep in my bed Y/N.”

I smirked and dove a hand into my pocket for his keys. “Well thanks Iz,” I said, swinging them from my finger. “I’ll remember that for next time, shall I?”

*****

“Honestly, I’m fine about the whole thing.” I yelled, turning towards Duff’s ear so he could hear me over whatever crap the club was playing. “I deserved it.”

He pulled an exaggerated frown and grabbed my arm earnestly, making sure I was paying attention as he yelled back. “Yeah, well they didn’t deserve you.”

I laughed through another gulp of beer and slid back against the seat to avoid falling off it, his hand dropping away. “Too fuckin’ right! I’m an independent woman who don’t need no job.”

He started cackling and slumped back too, mostly onto me. We’d ended up squished shoulder to shoulder in middle of a packed little booth, everybody pushed closer together as more and more people joined our group for the night. I was sat pressed up between him and Slash, with the latter’s right arm wedged behind my lower back, and somebody else’s boot-clad feet resting like lead weights on my thighs – I suspected they were Axl’s, the cheeky fucker.

I hadn’t really meant to tell the others about getting fired. There seemed no point; jobs came and went with me (okay, mainly went) fast enough that by the time everybody knew I had one, I’d usually already have lost it. By this time next week, I’d be losing another one.

Duff had eked it out of me though, plying me with plenty of booze and no shortage of teasing. It was pretty much impossible to keep things from Duff. Persuasive bassists aside, however, one thing I was determined to keep to myself was the apartment thing. Actually, even thinking about it was probably dangerous, I realised. I really was quite drunk. At this point in any night, there was often a large risk of cats-getting-out-of-bags if I didn’t keep my wits about me. Probably best to stay away from Duff altogether, now I thought about it.

I downed the last dregs of my drink and heaved myself upright, shoving Axl’s feet off my lap. “Another round?” I shouted to Duff, waggling my empty glass in front of him.

He frowned again, this time genuinely. “I’ll get ‘em.” Then, seeing I was serious, “You just lost your fuckin’ job, you can’t buy my fuckin’ drinks right now!”

He started shifting to get up and I laughed, trying to shove him back down. He grinned up at me and slurred, “Come on, don’t be a bitch! You’re not buying my fuckin’ drink.”

“You’ve been gettin’ my drinks all night!”

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Yes, and I have a fucking job Y/L/N!”

I laughed, “Good for you McKagan! You want beer or vodka?”

He collapsed back against the seat, casting his eyes heavenward. “I don’t know how I put up with you.” He glanced back up at me a little cheekily. “Beer, please.”

I giggled and nodded, then started climbing out of the booth, picking up drink orders as I went. I made it halfway to the bar when I heard someone calling me.

I pivoted round and beamed as I saw Izzy sidling up through the throng of Wednesday night drunks, raising his hand in a lazy wave. There was a bright red light shining from somewhere to the left, casting a warm glow over his face, chiselling out shadows across his cheekbones and nose. I had a tendency to forget how gorgeous he was when I was sober. But seeing him now… I watched him make his way over, shoulders swinging with one hand buried in his pockets, his other playing with a unlit cigarette.

“I’m just gettin’ more drinks.” I announced as he reached me and slotted the cig behind his ear. His forehead scrunched up as he listened – and had he always done that? It looked ridiculously sweet as he did it then.

“What?” He stepped closer and slung an arm round my waist, angling his head closer to mine.

“Drinks!” I shouted, feeling stupidly delighted at his hand splayed over my stomach. His chest was warm against my arm and when he nodded, I could feel the brush of his hair on my temple. He started leading me forward to the bar, weaving between the other patrons.

The nearer we got the louder it became, with everybody crammed in trying to place their orders, and Izzy had to slip behind me so I could worm my way through the crowd. Now he was pressed against my back, his arms locked in a tight circle around my waist. So we’re doing this tonight, I thought.

“You okay?”

I jumped a little bit as he spoke, his mouth on my ear, hot breath fanning over my cheek and I felt more than heard him chuckling.

“Forget I was here?”

I leaned back into him slightly, and smiled at the way he stooped down to give me his ear when I turned to reply. “Like that’s possible with these latched onto me.” I tapped his forearm, still flush against my front. “I’m not gonna run away, you know.”

He squeezed my sides and bent down again. “What are we ordering?”

I smirked and pitched forwards to get the bartenders attention, rattling off about ten different drinks as she wrote them down. I twisted round to raise my eyebrows at Izzy, who quickly bent forward to give his order, squishing me up against the bar. His hands slid back to twist me round until I was facing him, and he shifted his forearms to rest against the counter behind me.

I frowned and leaned up to speak to him.

“I didn’t pay?”

“I have a tab.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thought I was gettin’ this round.”

“Yeah, well you don’t have any money.” He smirked, and tacked on, “Or a job.”

My arms folded over my chest, pushing up against his too as he stood so close. “Why does everybody keep fuckin’ sayin’ that.”

“Is it not true?”

I scowled at him, although my head involuntarily bobbing along to the music playing might have dampened the effect. He didn’t appear to be very affected anyway. If anything, he looked like he was trying not to laugh, ducking his head down and pursing his lips.

“So, how come you had to crash at mine today? You lose your job and your apartment?”

Oh great, just what I didn’t want to talk about.

I laughed it off and tried to remember which lie I given him before. (My go-to tactic, nearly 100% successful when sober; unfortunately, less so when drunk.) “I was way too fucked up to make it all the way back to mine this afternoon. Probably woulda got myself lost or somethin’.” I smiled sincerely.

“You looked half fuckin’ dead.”

I grinned and thanked whichever sun was shining down on me in relief. “Fuckin’ felt it.”

His eyes darted up over my shoulder and he nodded at someone. “Drinks are ready, you wanna stay here for a minute?”

“Sure.”

I slipped my hand under his jacket to loop around his back as he stepped closer, reaching around me to grab our drinks. I glanced up, having to crane my neck to meet his eyes, and we swapped smiles as he passed me mine.

“You gonna be able to make rent?” He said, close enough that he didn’t have to shout anymore.

I sighed. Why was he hanging onto this?

“It’s fine Iz, really. Don’t worry about shit like that.”

He rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. “Great, not worried at all. Thanks.”

“This is why I don’t tell you shit.” I muttered, knocking back my beer.

“What, in case I try and help you?” He snarked, leaning forward a touch and setting his glass down. “I always fuckin’ find out anyway.”

I laughed sourly. “Sure you do.”

His brow furrowed, crinkling up his forehead. “What?”

“I got kicked out like, two fuckin’ weeks ago Izzy. I haven’t made rent in months. Didn’t find that one out, did you?”

He blinked. I chewed my lip. Fuck. Was not supposed to let that slip.

What was I saying about cats and bags?

I looked away, but it was difficult when we were pressed so close together. The jostling crowd of people had grown and now there wasn’t room for Izzy to move away, whether he wanted to or not. My hand slipped away from his back and I wrapped my arms around myself, swigging my drink. This was not a conversation I had hoped to have tonight.

It wasn’t like I’d been struggling for places to stay, sleeping rough or something – I had enough friends across the city that were happy to put me up for a few nights. And anyway, most of the time I just crashed at whichever party I finished up at. It wasn’t exactly a dire situation. The way I saw it, there was no point in bothering the guys about something so minor.

I had a hunch that that excuse wouldn’t hold up with Izzy though. He released a long-suffering sigh.

“For fucks sake, Y/N.” I sucked my teeth and kept my gaze locked on some couple just past his shoulder. “Why’d you never let me help you out?”

I snorted. “Like you’ve got money to spare on my rent, Iz.”

“I got plenty of money, Y/N/N.” I eyed him sceptically. He huffed and shifted his weight to his other foot, his hip jutting snugly into mine. “So where you been stayin’ for two fuckin’ weeks then?”

“These past few days… You’re not gonna like it.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I’m just lovin’ the rest of this so far.”

I peeked up at him. “You know Nicky Hanson?”

He glared.

“Well…”

“That guy? Really?” He sighed in frustration and dropped his head forward onto my shoulder. “That fuckin’ asshole?”

My arms found their way back round his middle, sliding over the smooth fabric of his shirt, and I pouted. “His apartment’s got hot water. I really value that in a guy.”

I felt him laugh grudgingly, and found myself laughing too.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, it’s just-“ I paused to chuckle. “I mean he has got hot running water. I didn’t see the point in worryin’ you. I was only thinkin’ about your feelin’s Iz.”

He lifted his head, smiling sarcastically. “Well thanks for bein’ so thoughtful, Y/N/N.”

I beamed back at him. “No problem, man. Any time.”

“Just so we’re clear though, you’re stayin’ with me tonight.”

I laughed as his arms folded back around me, drawing me into his chest.

“Can’t take my eye off you for one fuckin’ second, can I?” I bit down a smile as he kissed my forehead.

“We should probably get those drinks back to the table.” I mumbled, not actually bothered if he heard me or not. I burrowed my face into his collarbone, placing an unhurried kiss at the base of his neck.

Yes, I was quite happy to stay right there for the moment.

*****

The mattress dipped somewhere to my right and covers brushed lightly over my back. I opened my eyes reluctantly, screwing my face up against the bright light that streamed in through a crack in the blinds. Izzy’s bare feet treaded carefully past me.

I rolled over, dragging the sheet with me, and watched him hastily shimmy a pair of leather pants up his hips, tiptoeing round as he fastened them. He must have felt my eyes on him because he immediately glanced up.

“What’s goin’ on?” I rasped, fumbling on the floor beside the bed for a cigarette.

“Goin’ to work. You go back to sleep.” He murmured. The room was quiet except for his light footsteps as he hurried to get dressed. I found a cigarette and lit it quickly, squinting at him.

“You’re late?”

He nodded quickly and pulled his work shirt over his head. “Didn’t wanna get outta bed.”

That made me smile. Bundled up cosily under the warm covers right now, I knew just what he meant. I smirked as I followed his hectic movement around the space, finally finding his keys and jacket. “You should probably get a move on.” I teased.

He darted back to the bed to grab a pack of cigarettes, then did one better and snatched mine right from my lips.

“Thanks.” He grinned and dashed away to the door, before I had time to roll my eyes. He jammed his feet into his boots and, turning the key in the lock, whipped the door open. At the last minute, he changed his mind and snapped round to point a finger at me.

“Be here when I get back.”

I smiled widely. “Will do.”

He paused for a second before adding, “And don’t fuckin’ fall asleep.”

I laughed as he bolted through the door, chucking the keys inside for me and slamming it behind him. The walls here were thin enough that I still could hear him as he sped down the corridor, the main door crashing as it fell shut.

I drew a deep breath and sighed contentedly. What to do today?

It was a good feeling – all those hours stretching out in front of me with no work to fill them. That being said, I probably should get on with finding a job straight away, as unappealing as that sounded. Even when I found one, I’d be waiting for at last a week for my first wage before I could put down a deposit on a new flat, and Izzy wouldn’t want me hanging around here for too long. Best to get cracking sooner rather than later.

A knock on the door startled me from my vague planning. I pushed myself to my feet and tugged one of Izzy’s longer shirts from the floor, scanning until I spotted a pair of knickers. I slipped those on too and, rubbing my eyes, traipsed over to the door.

Slash stood swaying slightly on the other side. He smiled when he saw me.

“Hey Y/N/N, how’s it goin’?” He sniffed sleepily and plodded straight in with his guitar in hand, raising an eyebrow at my bare legs. “Oh, I see. Go get it girl!” I snorted and rolled my eyes at him.

He plonked himself down on the bed with a little sigh. “So where is he?”

I dropped down next him and reached for a half-full bottle of wine by his feet. “Literally just left for work, mate.” I had a quick glug before offering it over to him.

“Ah, that sucks.” He muttered, sipping thoughtfully. “Wanted to practise.”

“Well, I’m not great on rhythm guitar, but I do play a mean set of spoons.”

He sniggered and scratched his forehead, having another little sip before giving back the bottle and standing. “You wanna go cop then?”

I grinned up at him and stretched lazily. “You read my fuckin’ mind. Let me find my jeans.”

*****

I breathed deeply and took another long drag of my cigarette, settling my hand back on my stomach. I’d taken off my jeans and retreated back to the bed as soon as we returned, and now found myself drifting blissfully in and out of sleep. Slash was snoring lightly beside me with his legs spread out, dangling over the edge of the mattress.

The afternoon had passed in a slow rush and now the view through the window was dark, fuzzy shadows enveloping the room. I’d been meaning to switch the light on for hours. The bed was just too comfortable to move.

There was a knock at the door, and a weird sense of deja-vu washed over me. Slash grunted idly by my side. They knocked again. Impatient, I thought. I rolled over onto the floor and stood, staggering slightly when my balance wobbled. I ambled over and unlocked the door, leaning against it as I eased it open. Izzy appeared, looking over me with amusement.

“Had a good time?”

I smiled warmly and let my head drop against the doorframe. He chuckled.

“Can I come in, please?”

I hummed and moved backwards, dragging the door with me so he could walk past. He glanced over my shoulder and smirked.

“Shoulda guessed, huh?” I looked behind me and realised Slash was still in the bed, sat up now and jerking awake every couple of seconds. “You save any for me?”

“Some left by the bed, I think.” My voice was croaky, having hardly been used for an hour or two. The door was still wide open so I pushed it til it clicked shut and twisted the key in the lock again.

“Uh, I think we had that already Y/N/N.” Slash piped up finally.

Izzy hummed and stepped behind me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “I got news, by the way.”

I sighed and melted backwards into his chest. “What’s that then?”

“There’s a job goin’ at Andrea’s. Dish washing.”

“I could wash dishes.” I mumbled, eyes gently closing as his fingers grazed up and down my arm.

“You know, I was thinkin’ the same thing.” I could hear the smirk in his voice, the silly git.

“Andrea’s, where you work?”

“Yeah.” He said softly. “Figure that way I can at least try to keep you outta trouble.”

Slash laughed and I joined in, opening my eyes to make a face at him across the room.

“Fuck off.” I mumbled, smiling and starting to wake up. “I’ll go in tomorrow.”

“You wanna get ride with me?” I slipped away reluctantly to turn and face him.

“Yeah, please.” A new job, already. That was the first of my two problems sorted. Bless him, he’d probably been thinking along the same lines as me, about getting into a new place of my own quickly. I’d be out of his hair much sooner now that he’d lined up a job for me.

“I’ll try and keep this one.” I joked, smirking slightly.

Slash tittered again behind me. “Well, they haven’t fired Izzy yet. That’s gotta count for somethin’.”

Izzy rolled his eyes playfully and stalked past me. “I said I’d go meet Duff and Axl. You jerk-offs comin’ or are you just gonna stay here sleepin’ in my bed?”

“Hey!” Slash made a noise of indignation, “Somebody had to keep her company!”

[artistrashofmine]

I’m projecting onto Bakugou again, fun.

No Pairing/General, Parental Aizawa & Bakugou Mitsuki’s Bad Parenting.

Rating: Teen and Up

W/C: 3157

 AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24817582

Katsuki was in the hospital. Something about teaching him a lesson, or so Aizawa said. That Recovery Girl wouldn’t always be there to cover your reckless asses and Katsuki was going to be example number one to what happens when she isn’t. He only got a few scratches, some bruises. It was a damn building collapse on his way from the mall to the dorms. He went in, because of fucking course, he had his hero licence, he wasn’t about to stand back and let people perish. And who knew, it could have been a villain attack. In the end, it was some stupid experiment or gadget gone wrong, the place was owned by some sort of testing or designing corporation. Something like that, he didn’t really pay attention.

Point is, this was bullshit. Why should he spend his weekend in a hospital room eating shitty hospital food? Which did more harm than good seeing as he hardly ate a bite of it. He was perfectly fine, apparently, the excuse was something to do with chemicals or some shit that could’ve been disturbed as the building fell. Though Katsuki’s pretty sure his teacher just hated him. At least he wasn’t hooked up to any shit, though he was forced into one of those shitty gowns. Like what the fuck? Maybe it was some kind of test for his patience.

And the staff, the staff was hell, serious hell. One nurse was just shitty, but they were the most tolerable out of the bunch. He hated that other one who kept coming around. A fucking bitch who didn’t listen to a word he said.

It was all “how are you feeling, dear?” or “do you need anything, darling?”. And it was pissing him off because she wouldn’t shut the fuck up with the stupid name-calling.  He had a fucking name, Bakugou Katsuki for god’s sake not fucking “honey”. The blond didn’t know this girl, and frankly didn’t want to, so she could stop treating him as if they were all buddy-buddy.

Fuck, were staff even allowed to treat a patient like this? They shouldn’t be. Seriously, that’s fucked up, as a hero you’re supposed to make people feel comfortable, even he knew that, and Katsuki was pretty sure being a decent fucking human being - or nurse for that matter - should be the same. This was far from comfortable for him.

Screw teaching Katsuki a lesson,  it was these fuckers who needed some sense beat into them. And now the blond’s pretty fucking sure Aizawa sent him here cause he’s a monster teacher from hell and has it out for the hot-headed teenager. It makes perfect fucking sense.

He didn’t bother batting an eye when he came in to check if the blond hadn’t bailed, and the nurse was sprouting out them bullshit pet names. Not that it surprised him, the teacher hardly took notice of shit that troubled him. Hell, he didn’t bat an eye when his fucking hag of a mother gave him the backhand during their meeting for setting up the dorm. Nor did All Might for that matter. And no one did shit when he was strapped down to one of Cemento’s blocks and muzzled for the world to see. All to force some shitty medal that he didn’t want around his neck, well, into his mouth, but close enough. He was beginning to think all heroes were fucking oblivious idiots who all could use a good beating some sense into. Preferably with Katsuki doing the beating.

Then there was his mother, his goddamn bitch of an excuse for a parent. She didn’t bat an eye when nurse bitch came out with her arsenal of pet names. No, she yelled at Katsuki for going off at the nurse, who fucking scurried away like a fucking pussy the second their voices started to rise.

Yeah, this hospital was doing so much more harm than good, he needed out of here, he needed out of here soon or better yet yesterday. He shouldn’t have been here in the first place, that’s what should have been. Then he wouldn’t have had to put up with any of this shit. He was losing sleep here for god’s sake.

Of course, Sunday came with a high pitched “good morning honey!”  

And that was about all he could take. Do you know how fucking annoying that is? To wake up and the first thing said to you, by a total stranger, in the most annoying fucking high pitched babying voice be good fucking morning honey. Yeah, good-fucking-morning, good-fucking-bye. Maybe it was payback for his own nicknames. How he hardly called anyone by their proper name, unless they earned it. Still, he didn’t call them cutesy pet names either that was normally shared between couples. And being an asshole was his thing, and they were his fucking peers, not patients.  

So he yelled at her, yelled as loud as he could, he let sparks dance across his fingers, and he fucking told her, “I swear to god, if you don’t stop calling me those fucking stupid ass, pussy names, I’m going to fucking MURDER you.”

He thinks she got the message this time. He scared her off, that was for sure, the frown evident on her face. Katsuki didn’t think she would be coming back around. He was right. Though, if he were being honest, her and the one she was replaced with, he could tell no fucking difference. Brown hair instead of blond, that was about it. Same babying voice, same damn names, over and over again. He swore to god, he’d never step foot in here again, even if he were bleeding out on the sidewalk right in front of this fucking building, half dead. Never again.

It wasn’t happening, he expressed that much to Aizawa who was picking him up to bring him back to the dorms on Sunday night, his mom present only cause she had to sign him out. Damn waste of time this shit was.

“Goodbye, sweetie.” And bitch number two thought she was sly.

“I’m not your fucking sweetie.” He didn’t hesitate to holler right back.

“Stop being a pain in the ass you damn brat!” Too bad his fucking hag’s screech was louder than his, he’s pretty fucking sure his explosions partially inherited her set of lungs. Least her hands were too busy at the fucking desk to reach over and whoop his fucking ass. Goddamn, they were made of steel or something, he swears. His dad said it was just because she used to play volleyball, but he was half-convinced it was a secret quirk or something.

“Bakugou,” Aizawa drawled from behind him, the blond turning to meet the tired gaze.

He held his head up in challenge, “what you got something to say about my shitty behaviour too?”

And unexpectedly, the other only starred back, silent. As if taking back whatever he had to say. The blond narrowed his red-eyes, what was the Caterpillar getting at?

“Oi, brat, the least you could do is say bye! I came all the way out here for your ass.” He turned to sneer at the hag.

“Tch, whatever, like you have anything better to do!”

“Hah?! You ungrateful little demon. I swear to fucking christ,” it really looked like she was holding back, maybe she did have enough brains not to hit him in the middle of a fucking hospital.

Though he seriously questioned if any of the workers would do something about it. Maybe they’d have the decency to look away while it happened, but that was honestly the best he could expect from them.

“Why do I put up with your ass again?!” She shook her head, “I’ll tell Masaru you said hi. And remember to fucking call!”

Her heels clicked against the tile as she made her exit, as loud as she fucking could. Grabbing the attention of the whole fucking room, as if she hadn’t with her screeching. Un-fucking-believable, that woman.

When he turned back to the UA teacher, he was speaking to the staff working at the desk. Probably to listen in on the, undoubtedly, numerous complaints of how bad of a patient he was, how disrespectful he was, how much of a scene he has caused. Katsuki was in a rotten mood, and wouldn’t appreciate the lecture he was about to get on the way back. He shuffled his way closer to the teacher in hopes to draw his attention, that they could get this over with as long as he got the hell out of this hellish building.

“-again, I’ll press charges.” What.

What the fuck did he just walk into? Aizawa was arguing with a man at the counter, possibly some higher up they called over to handle complaints. That’s what he just walked up to. The teacher kicked some poor souls ass, Katsuki wanted to laugh in the workers face. Though he wondered what the hell caterpillar was threatening to press charges for, he wasn’t paying attention for one second and now he doesn’t know what the fuck’s going on.

Did Aizawa have some unfinished business or something? Was that why he chose this hellish place, it would make sense that the workers fucked something up and the pro was involved, at least it did to Katsuki. He wouldn’t put anything off the table. The weekend alone took a fucking year off his life span, and seeing that he was training to become a hero and already found himself smack dab in the middle of multiple villain interactions, it didn’t look like he had many years to spare.

“I’ll make sure it won’t happen again sir, do you have the names of those involved?” The man was able to keep a calm facade, it kind of pissed Katsuki off, he got on the bad side of fucking Eraser Head for god’s sake, that wasn’t something to be calm about. Though, to be fair, the man didn’t have Aizawa as a homeroom teacher so he wouldn’t understand what the other was capable of, would he?

Man, Katsuki pitied the poor foul who got on the underground hero’s nerves and envied the one who the hero cared enough to get upset on behalf of. Did he have a kid or something? It didn’t look like it, and the blond was skeptical of his abilities to care for one. Though Aizawa seemed to do fine with his class so maybe he was capable after all. Not like he could be worse than Katsuki’s mother anyway.

“Bakugou,” their attention was on the approaching blond, “I know you never call anyone by their names but do you remember the nurses who took care of you?”

“The shitty ones that called me pet names? Hell no.” He wasn’t afraid to voice his distaste, that was about all he could do, he wouldn’t give it up.

Maybe everything else was out of his control, the faith and trust that others had in his words, their ability to care, to do something, but Katsuki could control himself, he could speak up as much as he wanted even if there was no one to listen.

He was surprised not to get a scolding in return, not even a sigh, the black-haired teacher simply turned back to man, “don’t you have them on file?”

“Why sure, but numerous nurses could have visited his room, they change every shift.” Wait, this had something to do with Bakugou?

That’s why Aizawa was going off. Did the hospital do something to him? Was it those shitty nurses? They could’ve held a grudge over his attitude, but they seemed too scared to do something about it. Was it the doctor, because he was taking up a bed for no fucking good reason? They didn’t have much of a chance to do anything, maybe when he was asleep. Though the blond slept lightly, you never knew when the next attack could come. Whether it was villains, or his fucking mother, she’s done it before, pulled him right out of bed at three in the morning just because the blond slammed the door and woke the witch from her “beauty” sleep after an early morning run the previous day.

By now he seemed to have a sixth sense for people touching him in his sleep or coming near him. He could guess it started around the Sports Festival. It wasn’t pleasant to wake up from a quirk-forced sleep only to find yourself getting manhandled, getting muzzled. So he’d be surprised to sleep through some petty bitches midnight meddling. It didn’t feel like anything was off either, he might be a bit more tired and annoyed, but there was a reason, a good reason, for that. Or what he believed to be a good reason, maybe he was wrong. Who fucking knew?

“One of them was the girl who was just here.” The one who escorted them out, bitch number two? She did something?

The man nodded along, “I will make a note of that.”

“There was another if I recall, am I correct, Bakugou?” Aizawa looked at him expectantly.

“Another what?” Bitch? Because yes, yes there was.

“Worker who has been using inappropriate names.” The blond blinked, Aizawa was filing a complaint because of the pet names, on Bakugou’s behalf.

Because he was listening to Bakugou’s complaints? Hearing that he didn’t like it? And he was doing something? He wasn’t turning an eye and he didn’t see anything wrong with it, that the blond was overreacting. He was respecting what the blond wanted.

“She was the one on the shift before that other girl.” Katsuki explained quietly, collecting himself.

He didn’t need to yell for Aizawa to hear him.

“I would like to be made aware of your plans on how to handle this situation,” he turned back to the man, “I’ll be in contact, here’s my card.”

The other took it from the teacher's hand, “of course, sorry for the inconvenience.”

“I’m not who you should be apologizing to.” He turned away, “ready Bakugou?”

“Yeah,” the word was difficult to get out, he didn’t know why.

“Bakugou-san, on behalf of the hospital I’d like to apologize for the staff’s behaviour.” The man interrupted.

He stared at him with a scowl, “whatever.”

Like it mattered anyway, it wasn’t like Katsuki was ever going to come back. He already made up his mind on that, and when he comes to a decision, he sticks to it. The blond didn’t wait up, turning to march his way out of the godforsaken place, his exit was long overdue.

Aizawa was silent on the way out, silent as they got in his car and started driving. It wasn’t until they were well down the street, stuck at a light that he began to speak.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention for your time here to be that… substandard.” He started, “if something like this happens again I want you to come to me, I know I won’t be able to catch it, not all the time.”

There were already things the teacher missed , Katsuki thought bitterly. Though to be fair, All Might didn’t do anything either, actually, he played a good role in delivering Bakugou’s medal of failure. Aizawa was all bandaged up, in the booth with Mic, he hasn't said much, not until after. Katsuki was still wearing the gloves in class during the debriefing of the festival, he stayed back, was told to, he needed them off. They needed Aizawa's quirk to neutralize the sweat that poured into the gloves, otherwise, they were going to have a lotta collateral damage on their hands.

He remembers the teacher stating a grim “I don’t agree with what had happened.” before the principal had entered the classroom with the key, starting the process of removing the shit on his hands and safely disposing of the nitroglycerin-like sweat. He thought Aizawa was talking about Katsuki’s actions, how he chased after Half-and-Half, how he needed to be restrained in front of the crowd, how he acted like a petty brat who didn’t get the toy they wanted. He thought the grim expression was the teacher's disappointment. Like his mom’s when the blond had gotten home.

Now he wondered, was it Katsuki’s attitude that Aizawa was referring to? Did he miss Katsuki’s confusion? Did he miss the frustration in his eyes? The fact that he didn’t have a choice. That he didn’t want that? He vaguely remembers the conference televised during his kidnapping, how Aizawa bowed, took responsibility for Bakugou and how the blond was presented in the media’s eyes. Was that his way of apologizing? He didn’t think that deep into it, there was a lot going on during the time.

“I have another concern,” he continued, “your mother.”

The old hag, “what about her.”

“Bakugou, what’s your home life like?”

The blond's face drew up into a sneer, “nothing I can’t handle,  besides we live in the fucking dorms not like I see the old hag that often anyway, she’s a bitch.”

“And your father?” he continued, seemingly taking every word seriously, more serious then the blond intended.

“He keeps her on a leash but makes shitty excuses for her tantrums.” He mumbled, he knew their family was dysfunctional, not your average loving household or whatever, but they managed.  He was used to it.

Katsuki liked his independence anyways, so staying the fuck away from them wasn’t a problem. And they didn’t seem to mind either, for the most part. At least his father didn’t, his mother was a fucking bitch, all ‘don’t forget to call brat!’.

“Let’s grab something to eat before we go back to the dorms.” He proposed, pausing his investigation for now, “I want to discuss some things with you, involving you.”

“...Sure.” The blond was tired of hospital food, and it would be nice not having to cook for once, though he wasn’t looking forward to any more serious conversations, but it was better to get it over with. And maybe… maybe Aizawa would listen some more.

“Despite being a teacher, I’m not good with speaking, and I don’t like it,” that’s something they had in common, Katsuki had a feeling the other knew it too, “I remain a part-time hero with night shifts and have two cats.”

Well, that explained why he slept through the classes, but it didn’t excuse him from the gross, yellow sleeping bag, it still explained the hair all over it.

“I’m a light sleeper,” the blond admitted, “and I’ve never had a fucking cat, animals don’t like me.”

He could make out the slight, upward tilt to Aizawa’s mouth.

A month later he met Aizawa’s cats for the first time, they were clingy as fuck.

Another week later he was staying for a long weekend.

By the end of the school year he had his own room.