#i still remember seeing this in my askbox for the first time and i BURSTED into laughter DUDE LIKE IM SRS IM TIRED RN BUT GOD

[tiredsmashbros]

tiredsmashbros..! more leik..! tiremashedpotato..!

please ignore rjis i am half asleep

i feel like im sendinf this ask like you know me and im a regular that shows up in your ask box,,,,,!!! but!!

heres you as a tire!! in mashed potatos!!

i had to make it even more real

this is the greatest thing ever

beware of THE tiremashpotato *kachow*

[jiminrings]

maybe me (2)

pairing: jimin x reader

wordcount: 10k

glimpse: maybe it was too complacent of jimin to think everything’s okay between the two of you. maybe he was too hopeful by assuming karma wouldn’t catch up with him. but maybe, just maybe, jimin can try to fit himself and his daughter into your equation.

alternatively, jimin unintentionally reminds you of the worst pains of your life.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ more angst, dilf jimin’s a very good dad but he doesn’t believe it (give him a thumbs up when u see him on the street), wholesome scenes, jealousy n emotional constipation, emotional baggage but it’s with a cliffhanger, confrontations ]

notes: second to the last chapter can u believe :O friendly reminder that this is the start of the storm but not exactly the peak of it ya know… the full context (and the angst) would be at the finale so pls just read at ur own pace!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

Jimin doesn’t know when it’s going to come.

He doesn’t know when the complete feeling of remorse is going to hit him because the last time he checked, he could still look you in the eye without his chest tightening. It’s weird that the guilt hasn’t sinked in; he hasn’t stolen before in his life until he did it unto you a few days ago and he expected the sinking feeling to bring him to his knees.

He doesn’t know why it just brought him closer to you.

What Jimin feels in his heart is equivalent to a series of hiccups. There’s random bursts of the reminder of what he’s done in an irregular pattern and each time it crosses him, he holds his breath. The past week to him simply felt distorted, easily forgetting it as if his spontaneous breakdown didn’t happen.

He barely even knows you outside of what the internet grants him and yet he feels like he knows you intimately. There must be something wrong with him because a desperate single dad like him (read: an anxious and insecure single dad who pickpocketed your wallet) wouldn’t attach himself to you even more — but here he is, absolving himself of the fleeting guilt he felt and laughing with you at breakfast.

“I have something to give you, by the way,” Jimin suddenly announces with a new bout of eagerness even if you weren’t talking in the first place, only interrupting your train of thought from looking at Yuri feeding herself baby puffs.

He digs through Yuri’s diaper bag unceremoniously, fishing out an envelope that miraculously wasn’t crumpled throughout his search. You don’t know what it was but even before he held it out to you, you could already smell that it was a scented envelope.

Not a store-bought, typically daisy-scented envelope that comes in 10s though. It’s the one stationery envelope that’s standard for hotel rooms and is doused with Jimin’s perfume. It’s doused so much (he tried that hard) that the white envelope isn’t even perfectly opaque anymore.

“You’re not my competition, are you?” you joke, looking warily at the envelope he holds out to you with a cheeky grin. “There’s no anthrax in there?”

“No, but I actually know where to get that!” Jimin laughs, thrusting the envelope towards your hands but you think for a second that perhaps he isn’t even joking around, breezing through the latter part of his sentence far too casually.

His socialization and joking skills haven’t been up to par lately, knowing it clearly when he sees question marks floating above your head.

“Oh, uhm, I’m a paralegal, remember?” he coughs to his hand in embarrassment, flushing when you laugh right back at him because he didn’t register that you were just returning the joke. He could be a little dense sometimes.

He’s overwhelming this way; he’s across from you on the table and yet he feels so close, his whole body propped forwards that with just one push, he’ll tumble to where you’re sat. He typically smells like baby powder and fresh linen with his daughter being attached to his hip but the envelope in your hands bears his real perfume, of black musk and the thoughts you have of what would’ve happened if you met him before he had Yuri.

He even sounds overwhelming, giggling lowly to himself as you courteously open the envelope in front of him. He’s excited as if he wasn’t the one who crafted it from start to finish. As if he didn’t buy art paper and filled ten pages of scratch just to practice his handwriting. As if he didn’t print out a picture of Yuri to stick and bought heart gem stickers to surround her. 

You are cordially invited to Park Yuri’s first haircut!

Room 103, tonight at 6 P.M.

See you there! ♡

It’s adorable.

It’s too adorable that you look at her first before Jimin, seeing her head of hair and Jimin’s appeal to give Yuri her first haircut because she already has more than enough to put it into two loose pigtails.

Jimin waits for your reaction, worried to the point that he bounces his knee up and down and almost kicks you in the process. There’s a gentle smile on your face, fond enough for him to realize that although he tried hard, he got what he wanted.

“Who else is invited?” you question sincerely, an inkling feeling that Jimin didn’t invite that many people to begin with. It’s as if he read your mind because he chuckles again, shrugging with ease.

“Besides you, it’s just Namjoon.”

That is the truth, however, Jimin just asked him via text with a picture of Yuri attached and he got a yes not even two minutes later. Even if Namjoon would love an endearing and hand-made invitation, Jimin isn’t too sure if he’d make it for anyone else but you.

“It’s not really a thing, isn’t it?” you question, amusement behind your tone and not malice. If there’s anything you’ve learned, Jimin tends to be unorthodox at times, but his pursuit of giving Yuri everything remains unchanged. “Baby’s first haircut party? Is that an official thing?”

“No, not really,” he shakes his head, hanging his head down but it isn’t with shame; instead, it’s with a burst of pride for himself because he feels like he’s adequate enough for his daughter. “She won’t even remember it but I just want her to experience things. No matter how silly and whatnot.”

It is a little silly.

When you think about it, it’s a sentimental and intimate memory that’s soon to happen. Jimin had already crossed milestone after milestone and this time it’s the first snip at his baby’s hair, the same bit he felt deathly anxious at shampooing because she was just so soft — just so frail and tiny. 

Yuri may be an extension of Jimin yet she’s bigger than him. She’s young and kind and she’ll be far better than him because he wants her to. It’ll be a sentimental memory of him cutting her hair wherein he could say that he’s the first person to ever do it for her. That in the future when she grows up and gets her haircuts, she could have a tiny fleeting memory that it’s her dad who used to do all of this for her.

A silly, little, and memorable event — and you’re invited.

“Do you need me to bring anything?” your voice is small when you ask, trying to grasp at the realization that Jimin trusts you beyond words, even for reasons you can’t see.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take care of everything,” he shakes his head, licking his lips in reply.

It’s a hiccup in his heart again. It’s been so long since his last hiccup of guilt and this time he holds his breath again. He was so used to his remorse coming to rest that he didn’t anticipate the fact that his hurt comes in waves that were shores apart.

A silly, little, and memorable event between him and his daughter — and you’re asking what he needs you to bring.

Jimin wishes he could turn back time to the day he got his grubby and greedy hands all up on your purse. He’s not even sure if you know what he did. Nonetheless, the guilt keeps him up at night.

.

.

.

Everything’s set up thoughtfully to Jimin’s standards.

As soon as you ring the bell, Jimin answers with wide arms and a shaky laugh because he just gave away the fact that he’s most certainly been waiting for you at the door. 

The whole space is illuminated by ambient lighting from the cove ceiling and the lamps, most especially by the huge ass TV that Jimin rigged to display a neon pink picture he saw from the internet to wash the whole room a pale pink.

There’s foil balloons spelling out Yuri’s name stuck to the curtain, and you don’t even want to think if Jimin realizes that he’s gonna have a hard time picking out the double-sided tape he used on the fabric.

The dining area’s set up and if your eyes aren’t deceiving you, the table runner used is the same decorative bed runner that’s standard for the hotel rooms. 

The entirety of Jimin’s receiving area has completely been rearranged just for this single event he thought of, a tiny baby sofa placed on the middle of it.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” Namjoon creeps up from behind you and effectively surprises you in the process, stumbling at the right time because Jimin’s crouching down to place the hotel slippers at your feet.

Your assistant’s holding a handycam, his urgency in focusing the camcorder to you almost distracting you from the fact that he’s dressed in pajamas, the image of Mater on his torso making you look. Namjoon’s so casual and so is Jimin, dressed in sleepwear with Boo on his shirt and both Sully and Wazowski on his pajamas. God, this is a family matter and for some odd reason, you don’t stick out like a sore thumb.

“What’s your message for the birthday — what’s your message for the first haircut girl?” Namjoon knits his eyebrows in concentration, looking at you on the viewfinder and back at you in reality when your mouth is too dry to speak.

“Oh! Right, uhm, to Bambi,” you clear your throat, a breathless chuckle when you see Jimin emerging from his bedroom with a bundle of clothes in his hand. “Happy first haircut! You’re really-…”

“Here you go, Y/N. Get changed to pajamas! There’s a dress code.”

“Shoo, shoo. Get away, Jimin. I’m still interviewing Miss Y/N,” Namjoon reaches his hand out to get him out of the frame, hearing the faint sound of a zoom to your face as he pushes you to continue. “Sorry, continue please!”

You can’t help but to giggle, caught in the middle of them; Namjoon who’s hounding you to extend your greetings to Yuri, and Jimin who’s insistent on getting you to change to pajamas now.

“You’re really loved, that’s what I was about to say.”

You smile, the truth of it slipping easy from your lips.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the baby who’s in her playpen at the moment is greatly celebrated and loved, even for the little things. You’re certain that there’s more people beyond this room who regards Yuri in the same way her dad and uncle do.

Yuri is loved and you say it genuinely, eyes briefly meeting Jimin’s because he’s right beside Namjoon to make way for you. His eyes sparkle and perhaps even sting at that, covering up the choke from his throat by thrusting your pajamas at you.

“You can change at the bathroom or in the bedroom, whatever works for you,” he adds, seeing you unfold what he bought for you to be pajamas with Bambi on them, the deer printed throughout the whole set. Jimin suddenly realizes that he might be imposing on you, coughing while he clarifies. “But if you don’t want to change, it’s okay! You’re already here and-…”

“It’s fine. I’ll change.”

You hum softly on the way to the bathroom, locking it after you before you exhale and — god, this whole thing is so homely.

It strikes you that this is your first visit to his room, the very space where his whole life is cramped in for the time being, since your abrupt entrance into it where you first met him.

You’re in his bathroom, a space that you yourself keep minimal for guests to use, not even imagining to lend the main one you use because it was too intimate. But Jimin lends you his without a care in the world, even escorting you to it.

His scent’s here, products laid on the countertop neatly even if it used to be sprawled all over unbeknownst to you. His toothbrush lies beside Yuri’s, his shampoo right next to hers, his towel next to her very own.

There’s a baby bathtub at the shower room, an affinity of bubble animals strewn in it.

It looks lived-in, something that puts a lump on your throat because just a month ago, you’ve burst into Jimin’s space out of worry for his daughter — now, you’re invited to watch him give Yuri her first haircut.

You try to get changed as fast as possible, trying not to take a peek at what Jimin’s perfume is but ultimately failing. You come out of the bathroom, dressed in pajamas you didn’t expect to wear right in front of everyone (read: two adults and one baby), seeing a sight to behold.

In the short time you disappeared, Jimin had already organized everything for final touches. Yuri’s already sitting on her baby sofa, his shirt that drowns her in its size acting as a makeshift salon cape.

He waves you over, the fear of missing out making you jog to where he and Namjoon are. Jimin’s already holding the scissors, sitting on the floor to match Yuri. She isn’t bothered that her dad’s sitting behind her, even laughing because she sees him in the mirror placed in front of her.

“Joon, are you getting this?” Jimin asks frantically, looking up at him only to be shushed.

Your assistant’s really taking his job seriously because he only allows himself a second to chuckle, acting as if being behind the camera is a full-on job he got a master’s degree for. “Yeah, yeah. Shhh. Yuri’s laughing.”

Jimin grabs the spray bottle, dampening Yuri’s hair and brushing it out to be straight. Yuri remains neutral by it, holding a stuffie of a rat that’s (un)affectionately named Stinky. Jimin hates rats, actually, but it’s one that Yuri won’t let go at the store with her insane Palmar grasp reflex, so he buys it for her.

If it’s a microwaveable rat stuffie named Stinky that’s going to keep Yuri calm during her first haircut, then so be it. He’ll try not to shudder when he rewatches the footage of this moment while his daughter holds a rat.

“Just a little snip on the back,” Jimin whispers, mostly for calming himself down because he doesn’t want to fuck up Yuri’s first haircut. He takes her hair between his two fingers, exhales, and cuts. 

There’s a terse silence that you can’t even fill up with a gasp, interrupted when Jimin suddenly cheers and holds up the hair for Namjoon to film.

“It’s even! It’s even! Ah, appa didn’t mess your hair up!” he squeals, kissing Yuri’s cheeks repeatedly. Jimin makes a mental note to put it in a bag, later to be tucked in her baby album.

It’s a warm, tear-jerking moment — the latter you’re sure of because Namjoon’s shoulders are shaking and you have to briefly take over camera duty for him.

It’s when Jimin and Namjoon are preparing dinner that you’ve willingly stuck yourself to the floor. Yuri keeps wandering around and her dad and uncle are too busy, leaving only you to keep an eye on her.

Yuri stands by herself, gripping the couch to do so. Her legs are stable albeit a little wobbly and unsure when taking steps, but when she does attempt it now, she wills herself to crash on your lap and take her seat there.

“Bambi,” you whisper, the baby looking up at you. It’s a mere coincidence that she responded because after all, her name’s Yuri, not the same character you have on your pajamas.

You’re not quite sure what you’re supposed to do but you don’t push her off your lap, instead engaging in an impromptu staring contest with her.

Jimin’s about to ask if you want him to plate your food for you or if you want to do it yourself but he stops at his tracks, the sight in front of him tinted pink and sentimental.

“Do you want a fringe?” Jimin coos from behind you, making you clutch at your heart because he’s definitely talking to his daughter and not you. He takes refuge beside you, sitting as he gets Yuri to hold his hand. “Bangs would look so cute on you.”

Yuri smiles, not exactly an answer that was discernible.

“What do we think? Dora bangs or no?” Jimin asks, turning his face to you and you’re so close, he could see the fan of your eyelashes when you look back to him.

“Your call,” you shrug, breaking eye contact.

“I have no signal.”

There’s a loud groan from the corner, Namjoon’s back turned to the both of you but still as disappointed. He shudders. “Slap me if you ever hear me saying dad jokes.”

Jimin yearns to slap him lightly but he’s too far and takes it to heart anyway, crumpling up a nearby streamer for better weight and throws it to Namjoon’s head.

“Ow! What was that for?” Namjoon finally turns, eyes slightly widening at the image of his boss and half-brother sitting so closely, his niece placed right at your lap.

“You’re joking at my expense, and I’m a dad!”

“Insulting you and making dad jokes are different. You should-…”

You learn quickly to tune them out, humming to yourself as the two men tiff.

“Do you want bangs?” you ask as Yuri carries herself, getting up by putting her weight on your shoulders. You support her, putting your hands underneath her arms.

“Laugh if it’s a yes, fall on your butt if it’s a no.”

And Yuri falls.

Jimin holds his hand out to cushion her fall but you do it before him, hands intersecting that his eyes flicker at with a fond smile.

“Okay, let’s hold out on the Dora bangs for now.”

( ♡ )

Jimin wants to take the hurt away from Yuri.

Her eyes are red and raw from crying, the discomfort she feels in her ears completely changing her whole mood. Jimin already took her to her pedia and they said the hurt would only peak once more before it subsides, tonight being the fated moment.

If he thinks he’s already preconditioned to his daughter’s cries, he’s badly mistaken.

“It’ll be okay, baby. You’ll be okay,” he whispers, tears coming out of his own eyes as he cradles Yuri, pressing a kiss to her temple. Fuck, he’s so stupid. It’s most likely his fault she’s hurting now and for someone who’s an unemployed and full-time single dad, Jimin feels like he’s surely lacking.

“Let’s uhm, let’s try not to cry, alright? Your ears will hurt more.”

Jimin breathes shallowly as he dresses Yuri for the cold, his mind so scattered that he prepared everything but himself. Her weight on his arms is a reminder that she needs him, forgoing the carrier because vomiting on it would be unideal and Yuri needed all the contact she could get.

He’s already up and walking out of the elevator, not noticing the worried glance the security guard at the front (that’s used to seeing him and his daughter) throws him. 

He only has his wallet and his daughter, cussing himself when he realizes that he forgot to bring Yuri’s diaper bag for any accidents. He’s so frazzled that he can’t even decide between running up back again to the room or just booking it to the pharmacy, head whipping back and forth that his eyes sting in frustration.

“Jimin?” 

He comes back to consciousness when his name is called, eyes falling on you. Your car’s put on hazard at the side, window rolled down to see if it was truly him. You had a hunch that it was him when you see the familiar gray sweatpants, but you had to do a double-take because why would he wear those at this weather?

“Where are you going?”

Jimin can barely even register your presence, answering directly to the point.

“Pharmacy. Yuri needs Pedialyte,” he says and as if on cue, Yuri sobs dryly.

There’s no other argument that comes to your brain, unlocking all your doors in an instant.

“I’ll take you there.”

It sinks to Jimin now little by little that you are here offering him a ride, a complete coincidence. The weight and the cries of Yuri remind him to answer. “I don’t wanna hassle you. I didn’t take my car because Yuri might throw up on the seats and that’s another discussion.”

“My seats will be just fine.”

“But-…” he reasons, his pride diminishing by the second. “Really, it’s just a short walk. She needs the air too and-…”

“Come on, Jimin. It’s okay,” you reply sternly, his resolve weakened by now the more that his daughter’s out in the cold. “It’s for Yuri, right?”

Jimin’s eyes are downcast, head glancing back up when he hears your door open for him. “Yes. It’s for Yuri.”

It’s a short and quiet trip, one that was filled with Yuri’s cries and Jimin’s anxious thoughts which were just as loud. He couldn’t have jumped out of your car faster as soon as you parked, completely abandoning you but you don’t even take offense.

You try your best to catch up with him, the sudden intrusion of the overhead lights from previously being out at the night sky making the both of you wince. Jimin expected the lights to freak out Yuri but instead, her cries lessen, curiosity piqued by the vastness of the pharmacy.

He makes the mental note to turn on every possible light back at the room later.

“Why’s she throwing up?” you take a chance in asking when it’s clear that Jimin isn’t as dazed than when you saw him awhile ago. You follow behind him dutifully, trying not to crowd him as he takes a slight detour when he remembered he needs baby food and baby shampoo.

You’re approaching the inner aisles when you take the basket from him without a word so he could focus on just holding Yuri, thanking you softly as his eyes skim the racks.

He wants to answer you because it would be rude not to but he feels ashamed. He doesn’t want to be judged but in his clouded vision now, you probably already did. Jimin has nothing left to lose, proven by his appearance now in the pharmacy in just his ratty pajamas because he failed to be prepared enough.

“Ear infection,” Jimin answers after some time, his grasp on the baby shampoo loosening as he explains. “But the doctor said that it’s common a-and a lot of babies have it!”

It’s a painful sight, seeing Jimin try to justify himself in front of you. He has nothing to prove — you do care, but you’re unrelated to him and Yuri. He doesn’t have to explain.

“Yeah, Jimin. I’ve heard it’s normal,” you answer, a timid smile on your face. You take the bottle from his hands, placing it inside the cart. “You don’t have to defend yourself.”

“I’m not defending myself. I’m just-…” Jimin’s voice pitches but later dwindles, pinching the bridge of his nose while he mutters under his breath. “Fuck, yeah, I am defending myself.”

In the middle of the shampoo aisle, Jimin has the urge to break down. He wants to fall to his knees and clutch at his hair as Yuri stares in wonder (or in pity) at him.

But in the middle of the shampoo aisle, you reassure Jimin of a truth that nobody has to inspect closely to know.

“You’re a good dad.”

“Maybe,” he sniffles, gathering his bearings back. He thinks that if only you knew that he stole from you, you wouldn’t say that.

“Just maybe?” you tease a little to lighten the mood but your voice carries worry at what he sees himself as, eyes trying to get him to glance at you.

“Good dads don’t let their kids have ear infections,” Jimin chuckles but the humor is lost. “Good dads would’ve bought a spare bottle of Pedialyte at the clinic so they’re always prepared.”

He’s not angry at Yuri, he’s just angry at himself. Stupid instincts for only catching on that she’s coming down with something a little bit late, stupid parenting for not buying extra medicine.

“Good dads wouldn’t be in their pajamas with holes on them and bathroom slides at a pharmacy in the evening to buy medicine,” he snorts, trying not to look at himself in any reflective surfaces. “Good dads don’t inconvenience their hoteliers.”

“I’m not being inconvenienced,” you shrug with truth to your words, following him around and when he looks down at your shadows, he realizes belatedly that your arm is occupied.

“Give me that. You’re even holding the basket,” Jimin snatches it away from you eagerly and with irritation towards himself, Yuri being adjusted to his right arm and the basket on his left.

The both of you line up to pay, Jimin’s wallet in his right pocket that it makes you instinctively take Yuri off his hands, putting her on your hip instead.

Jimin inputs his card, the cashier looking away as he punches in his pin and choosing to converse with you while he does so.

“You have a pretty baby,” she compliments and it makes Jimin’s heart flutter despite the cashier’s glance being set on you and not him.

“Oh, thank you!” you smile, bouncing Yuri on your hip. “But she’s not mine.”

Jimin brings home Yuri and the items he bought with your assistance, and he could only pathetically wish he can bring you home too.

( ♡ )

It was a slow night for you when Yoongi called, asking if he could come up to your office.

Namjoon already clocked out and so did the other staff working under you, leaving you alone in your office because you just don’t have it in you to go home yet.

You agree without a second thought, letting himself in after three knocks.

Yoongi looks better than the last time you saw him, obviously more at ease now that he’s getting the hang of looking after Suki alone. He pushes her in her stroller and into your office, setting her to the side. His gaze is only set on you, whatever emotion he had behind his eyes highlighted by the ambient lighting in the room.

The last time he saw you, he misread your leniency and empathy for Jimin and his daughter terribly.

“I owe you an apology.”

He looks somber — too somber that your heart hurts just by looking at his expression. Your typing ceases, knowing that your attention won’t ever be back again to your work for the rest of the night.

“Accepted.”

“I didn’t even get to say sorry,” Yoongi breathlessly chuckles, pulling up a chair to sit beside you. He could’ve just sat across you but it wasn’t enough for him, wanting to deliver his sincere apology clearly and hopefully, coax out a conversation between the two of you.

“You don’t need to. I don’t wanna dwell on it either,” you answer truthfully, your need for conversation at the moment basically non-existent. You’ve been feeling numb lately and although Yoongi’s appearance relieves it, he serves as further reminder of your hurt.

“That’s-…”

“Unhealthy?” you cut him off, a snort following soon after.

Yoongi rolls his eyes at that but he understands — understands it more than anyone. He can’t blame you; no one can.

“I was about to say normal,” he answers quietly, no louder than a mumble but you hear it loud and clear.

You have the tendency to shut down and so does Yoongi. If you turn quiet, he won’t even question it. And if you feel like sitting at your office in silence with him overlooking the city at night, he’ll stay.

Yoongi may not be your closest confidant, but he’s the only one who knows you at your rawest and most vulnerable. Yoongi dislikes it when you thank him so you don’t, but you smile at him and then to Suki who’s sleeping in her stroller.

“You get me, Yoongs.”

( ♡ )

This time around, it’s Jimin who catches you sitting alone at the rooftop garden.

Lately, you don’t even come home. You choose to sleep over at one of the numerous rooms and suites available to you, the sterilized staleness of the rooms compared to your house placating you.

Namjoon doesn’t question you because he doesn’t even know, trusting that when he drives home, you do too. You know for sure that if he knew, you’d be bombarded with questions of why you can’t just detach yourself from work these days.

Jimin notices though.

He takes Yuri down to the lobby every now and then so she could walk freely without bumping into furniture every two seconds, but almost always, he’ll see a glimpse of you.

Just you, your nose buried in your laptop or talking with your staff. It would be late when he takes Yuri down because that’s when she’s most active, but by the time he tires her out and she’s ready to retire to her co-sleeper, you still haven’t come home.

He tries to locate you tonight by himself, leaving Yuri with Namjoon in his room. Jimin wonders if Namjoon knows that you’re still at work, knowing that he has a few white hairs from worrying over his boss.

Jimin watches you from afar, sitting where he sat the last time by the edge of the pool, a full glass of scotch taking what you used to be your space beside him.

“What are you doing up this late?”

Your shoulders jolt in surprise, thankfully having the bearings not to fall over into the pool. Jimin would’ve tried to catch you anyways if you did, being surprised himself that you were shocked at his appearance.

You don’t seem to be bothered by his presence but you’re confused at the lack of the tiny human attached to him by the hip. “Where’s Bambi?”

Jimin smiles at that, not mad that he’s already here yet the first person you look for is his daughter.

He’s finally at ease, your breakfasts the past few mornings being cancelled because he was busy tending to Yuri who thankfully has now recovered completely. She’s calmer than ever and didn’t need to be worn out at the hotel lobby to be put to a good night’s sleep.

“Namjoon’s watching over her. He’s catching up with this live show in my room,” he moves your glass, folding his sweatpants up to mimic your position.

There’s something about you that’s been off lately. Jimin doesn’t know what exactly but he’s sure there’s something tilted. He may not know you enough, guilty that whenever the both of you talk it always seems to revolve either around him or his daughter — but he’s trying. He’s trying to ask about yourself more and more but for some reason, you’re detached.

“Do you not go home?” he blurts out, unable to keep the words in his mouth. “Sorry. It just seems like you’re always here.”

You do find it true that Jimin has little to no filter to his words but at the moment, you really don’t mind. The question is welcome and although it’s loaded, you carry it with your arms.

“I do go home. Just not feeling it right now.”

Jimin nods at that, humming at your answer. At the very least he knew that you had a house, a stable one at that right under your name unlike him. He knows you have a roof to go home to but in the sudden form of an intrusive thought, Jimin thinks if there’s someone you go home to.

“Is there uhm-…” he coughs, the sudden feeling of panic and sadness engulfing him. Is he intruding? Why did this never cross his mind before? “Is there uhm, someone waiting for you at home? Are you avoiding them?”

The questions hangs right above your head, something as light as a feather for you but as heavy as a piano over Jimin’s mind.

You’re confused to his inner turmoil because you only tilt your head, making him swallow the lump in his throat because he just wishes he asked the wrong question.

“What?” you ask, grasping what he’s insinuating. “Oh god, no. I live alone.”

There’s a huge bit of tension that’s released from his shoulders, unaware that a breezy sigh leaves past his lips. Good — he wouldn’t have known what to say otherwise.

Jimin’s just about to ask why is it that you don’t want to come home but you beat him to it, already glazing over a new topic of conversation that revolved around him. You act so light to him and yet there’s barely any behind your eyes, seeing the bags underneath that he could see even in the dim lighting of the rooftop.

“How’s the house search going?”

Jimin sighs at that, answering your question before he even catches on that you’re deflecting.

“Some prospects here and there but not the exact one I see Yuri growing up in. It’s tough to figure out.”

He wants to think of long-term, sick of looking over at leases and contracts in both a professional and personal sense. He’s seen so many that’s legally gray and vague, pushing him to think repeatedly that the house he has in mind still hasn’t surfaced yet. If it’s the one for him and Yuri, it’d be flawless all the way down to the fine print.

“When are you-…” you cough after a sip of your scotch, throat burning not at the alcohol but at the question instead. “When are you moving out?”

Jimin blinks again and again, an insistent shake of his head making the whole room spin to him.

“Not yet.” Not yet, he wants to beg. Please don’t bring up the version of reality where he doesn’t get to see you every morning and eat breakfast with you and his daughter, or the one where you’re not always around and he can come ask you to witness a milestone of Yuri’s.

“I don’t know, but not now,” Jimin insists, voice turning raw. “We’re not leaving yet.”

You look to the water beneath you, faint and distorted versions of you and Jimin dancing around. “Okay.”

The atmosphere has always been light between the two of you, but without your inquiring gaze and the general easiness you carried around, Jimin has to carry the whole conversation himself.

You don’t seem to talk a lot these days. Sure, you do react genuinely but not as eager. You’re still around and even without that far of a physical distance, your mind seemed to be somewhere else, eyes unfocused and glazed.

“I want to thank you for the other night in the pharmacy,” Jimin breaks his silence. “It meant a lot.”

You don’t even have a good concept of time nowadays, slipping your mind that it’s only been a week since you drove Jimin and his daughter to the pharmacy. You’re upset that you forgot the time so easily but you’re grateful at the reminder that you remember with minimal help.

“I didn’t deserve that but thank you.”

“Why do you discredit yourself so much?” you reply louder than Jimin’s mumble, your tone even surprising yourself. You’re definitely more than focused now, in tune with the current conversation you’re having. “Stop withholding yourself from the things you deserve.”

“No, I know what I deserve,” Jimin scoffs, tucking his arms across his chest. “And it’s not you driving me and Yuri to get her medicine at ten in the evening.”

Jimin pitying himself was an exhausting sight not only because his sadness seemed to affect you, but also because what he’s pertaining to isn’t true. There’s no merit to his words, making you think that he’s so far into his insecurity that he can’t discern his hardwork from incompetence.

“Then what do you deserve, hm?” you snicker, slightly taking offense that he doesn’t seem to like you driving him. “Who do you deserve?”

This time it’s Jimin who deflects, humorlessly chuckling. Your wording was unintentionally suggestive, realizing it belatedly when he doesn’t quip as quickly as you expected him to.

“If you word it like that,” he hums, oddly brave even without a sip of your scotch. “I feel even more scared to ask you out for dinner.”

“What was that?”

You deflect right back, dancing around each other. The both of you know you’ve heard each other loud and clear, but Jimin indulges you nonetheless.

“I said your heart is too good,” he laughs, throwing his head back. He looks so wasted and he didn’t even drink a single drop of alcohol, genuinely smitten. He points accusingly at your chest. “Too much empathy. Too much belief in there.”

“Is it my heart or my cleavage?” you snort, laughing to yourself that you forget you already forgone drinking from your glass because you’ve just been speaking to Jimin eye-to-eye.

“Nope. I see right through your heart, not your cleavage,” he squints, swishing his lips to the side playfully. “Although the view of your heart is being obstructed.”

“Shut up.”

Jimin laughs even louder and for a second, you feel infinitely lighter. He feels it too, sees it too. You look happy and in the moment, and even for a second, Jimin takes pride in it.

“Here,” he digs into his pocket and hands you a folded towel, urging you to spread it out.

It’s one of the several hundred baby towels he has, your name stitched on the corner of it. It’s a little wonky, the tension a little off, but it’s okay.

“Accept it as my thanks. It’s not enough, but I’ll give you more,” he shrugs, seeing you admire (or maybe loathe) his craft of your name with pink thread.

“You don’t have to give me more,” you hum, folding the towel back up and putting it on your lap.

Jimin shakes his head.

“I want to give more.”

( ♡ )

The next time Yoongi visits you, Jimin’s in the picture.

Technically speaking, Yoongi arrives at the scene first with Suki in tow, pushing her stroller yet she’s carried by him. Something about her waking up clingy and Yoongi not exactly complaining.

“Wow, she’s turning two at the end of the year,” you gasp at the realization, taking her from his arms because she reaches out for you. She seems to remember her Auntie Y/N to heart already, making him smile out of pride as he passes Suki to you.

“Kiss!” she cheers, her pronunciation clear despite her giddiness. Yoongi says that she’s been demanding more and more affection lately (his hugs and kisses don’t seem to be enough), even asking from people outside of him.

“Alright. Suki gets a kiss from me,” you declare to her while cooing, landing one on her cheek to which she shrieks happily at. You forgot just how cute Suki could be, especially if she wasn’t busy being one sleepy child.

“Kiss again!” she demands and you oblige, her gaze suddenly turning to Yoongi beside you. “Appa, kiss!”

Suki stretches out of your hold despite remaining in it, cheek held out for Yoongi to smooch. He laughs at her request, granting her one immediately.

It goes on back and forth until Suki doesn’t even speak, just pressing her cheek out to either one of you repeatedly. She’s a smart girl, making a game out of it and perhaps even teasing the both of you. Suki’s pampered in affection while she keeps it up, suddenly stopping when she sees people walking in from behind you.

Yoongi notices Namjoon and Jimin before you, making you snap your head to where they were coming from.

Namjoon keeps on walking even if Jimin and Yuri freeze behind him, taking Yoongi for a casual side hug while he turns to Suki who he’s seen a couple times before.

There’s you, holding another child. Even Yuri in Jimin’s arms is perplexed, big eyes widening at the older child in your grasp. Suki doesn’t turn her gaze from Yuri either, blinking owlishly.

Jimin, on the other hand, doesn’t know what to feel. He’s oblivious that his daughter finds the girl in your arms to be her competition, too busy taking in the sight. You, Yoongi, and the baby fit each other like how a real family would.

Suki fidgets out of your hold, reaching for Yoongi because the sight of strangers in such close proximity makes her shy.

“Hi, I’m Jimin.”

Jimin introduces himself despite not sticking his hand out, his gaze set on your friend and not you. You’re not even sure if he spared you a glance in the first place.

“Hello, Jimin.”

Yoongi monotonously answers, making Namjoon shuffle over to where you stood. He resists the urge to snort, gaze flitting between the two men who were standing parallel to each other.

Yoongi only replies but doesn’t introduce himself, making you nudge him not to be rude.

“I’m Yoongi.”

“This is my daughter, Yuri,” Jimin continues, a curt smile on his face as Yuri only stares. She doesn’t stare at Yoongi though, just towards Suki.

“This is Suki, my daughter,” Yoongi reciprocates, bouncing his daughter slightly. She looks owlishly at Jimin’s daughter, hostile even in her gaze.

“Are they reading scripts at the top of each other’s head?” Namjoon leans down to your ear and murmurs, taking the initiative to set the both of you at a distance after seeing the two engage in conversation animatedly.

“I have no idea,” you mumble, eyes flitting back and forth because they’re talking at a volume only they could discern. Their daughters are in a different conversation, communicating only in slow blinks.

“It’s so painful to watch,” he winces, intrigued when he sees Jimin look offended.

“Tell me about it,” you distractedly answer, surprised when you see Yoongi look insulted.

It concludes suddenly, making you and Namjoon snap out of it and pretend as if you weren’t trying your earnest to eavesdrop. Yoongi goes to you and Jimin weakly trails along, his words only for you.

“I forgot to run an errand. Let’s go to the pharmacy,” he declares in a rush, setting Suki down on her stroller and placating her that he’ll carry her in the soonest.

“I’m coming with!” Jimin announces, not asking for permission as he trails behind you and Yoongi who’s whisking you off to the exit.

“I-I — wait for me!” Namjoon catches up after the realization that he’s being left alone, the fear of missing out making him walk extra quickly.

It’s a sudden turn of events that started from Yoongi just wanting to speak to you privately and using the pharmacy as an excuse to do so, but Jimin and his nosiness intervened, and that prompted all of you to do a sudden trek to the pharmacy.

You walk with Yoongi’s pace, and Jimin tries to walk at yours but he clearly doesn’t have the advantage because Yoongi has a stroller and he doesn’t. Namjoon’s keeping up behind the the three of you, just happy that he’s there.

It’s the same pharmacy you went to a week ago, the context this time definitely confusing (yet amusing) instead of urgent.

“Suki ran out of baby shampoo,” Yoongi announces to no one in particular, taking the lead as he walks.

“No way, Yuri also went out of baby shampoo this week,” Jimin exclaims, mouth parting at the coincidence. Yoongi looks pleasantly surprised too, excited even.

“Really? It’s gone so quick, it’s like they eat it while they’re being bathed.”

“That’s what I think too!”

Jimin and Yoongi enter the pharmacy with a renowned and shared excitement, leaving you and Namjoon confused at the sudden switch. It’s weird, as if the two of them weren’t silently squaring up to each other for no reason at all back at the hotel.

“Huh,” you think out loud. “Single dads and their trips to pharmacies. Interesting.”

“Is that common?” Namjoon scrunches his nose, following you inside. You seek either one of them for you to tag along with, peering at the snacks here and there.

“Yeah, ask Jimin,” you shrug casually. “This is my second time in here.”

“He didn’t trouble you, did he?” your assistant asks for clarification, brows knitted in worry. Perhaps he’s been too lax on Jimin lately, failing to consider that he might’ve been too overbearing. “I’m sorry, Miss Y/N. I’ll keep him in check.”

“No need to, Namjoon,” you chuckle at his consideration, appreciating it but not requiring it. “I don’t mind.”

Namjoon spots Jimin first at his right so he tags with him, leaving you with Yoongi who’s just five steps ahead of you.

He already decided on Suki’s shampoo and he’s just debating now what color of toothbrush he should get for her, stuck between the lavender and the baby blue. Yoongi’s having quite some trouble pushing Suki’s stroller and his basket at the same time, making you take over for him in pushing his daughter.

“You ready to go?” you ask Jimin when you catch him at one of the aisles, Yoongi trailing right behind you.

“Mhmm. Already got all her stuff,” Jimin hums, managing to fit the tub of vaseline and baby powder in just one hand, all while carrying Yuri with the other.

Yoongi wordlessly plucks out the two items from his hands and puts them in his basket, a mumble for Jimin to hear as he stalks towards the cashier. “I’ll take care of your items.”

Jimin just stands there, frozen until Yuri pecks at his cheek.

Wait a minute, didn’t he just menacingly ask Yoongi awhile ago of who he was to you? What was it that prompted him to suddenly soften towards him and offer to pay for his items? Was it the connection about the baby shampoo of their daughters? Is it pity?

Jimin’s no stranger to receiving pity but he doesn’t know how to react with it coming from Yoongi, someone he’s only seen twice and conversed with once. Maybe it’s kindness, maybe it’s pity. He didn’t ask for Yoongi to pay for his vaseline and baby powder and yet there he is, standing at the cashier with you beside him.

Whatever it is that Jimin feels at the pit of his stomach, it was bad. It didn’t sit right on his chest and he can’t even decide if he’d want to use the same two items knowing that it’s Yoongi who’ll buy it for him without even asking.

His ears ring even if Yuri isn’t crying, sensitive to what he hears next.

“You have a lovely daughter,” uttered by a new cashier this time.

“Oh, thank you,” you respond with a smile, making Jimin freeze. “But she’s not mine,” Jimin waits for you to add but it doesn’t follow.

It never comes. He asked Yoongi if you were Suki’s mother and he answers no, said he’s a single dad too, and JImin believes him. 

“But she’s not mine.” — the same answer you said when you were mistaken for Yuri’s mother, never comes. The correction doesn’t follow.

You took it. You just took it.

The difference haunts Jimin around the whole day that it rendered him dazed, irritable at everything for no reason that he just cooped himself in his room once you all came back to the hotel.

He doesn’t get it — is the problem him? Is the context gravely different that you’re okay being mistaken for Suki’s mom and not Yuri’s? Or is his daughter the problem? Was Yuri simply not worthy enough to be mistaken for your daughter?

The conflict in Jimin’s mind never leaves him, even if you knock at his door with the intention of just bringing up pastries from the café downstairs. You wanted to tell him that Yoongi asked for his number, saying that he hopes to keep in touch with him because he left a lasting impression despite being brief. Their commonalities are being single dads and having you in their life; you as Yoongi’s friend, and however you want to define yourself in Jimin’s book.

Jimin answers the door with such fervor that the door almost swings and hits himself, jaw clenched as he lets you inside.

“I brought you-…”

“That’s not your daughter,” he interrupts you, turning his back and leaving you confused. 

“Excuse me?” you ask, thinking back to the only situation that happened today that could be the only other thing that Jimin’s pertaining to. You follow him to the receiving area, him stood in the middle of it in an antsy pace. 

“You know what I’m talking about. Yoongi and his daughter. The cashier,” he shrugs as if it doesn’t affect him but it does, the weight on his shoulders making his fists close and open in anxiousness. “Should’ve corrected her.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you breathe out, furrowing your brows in confusion. “It’s okay.”

Jimin resits the urge to scoff, scratching the back of his ear. He seems anxious, irritable at worst. You haven’t ever seen him like this before, even when you saw him half-naked when you burst into his room.

“When that cashier told you the same thing when you were holding Yuri, you corrected them immediately,” he tries to level his voice, taking everything in him not to burst at the seams. “Why’s that, hm?”

You don’t know where Jimin’s getting at and it perplexes you, the bag of pastries you brought up to him discarded somewhere already. With the way he’s standing, he looks like he’s waiting for a wrong answer — the thing is, there isn’t any.

“Because I’m not her mom,” you say it matter-of-factly, eyes narrowing at how Jimin looks hostile with you.

“Well you’re not that kid’s mom either,” he says condescendingly, squeezing out a disgruntled snicker from you when you slowly start to see what he’s getting at.

“And that is true too, Jimin,” you confirm for him, your gaze on him unrelenting. Your patience starts to tick, your fuse obviously longer than Jimin’s. “It’s not that deep.”

He loudly scoffs at that, putting his hands on his hips. He rethinks to how he’s almost been here two months and all of the time the two of you shared and yet here you are, telling him that it wasn’t a big deal. Sure, you’re neither Yuri nor Suki’s mom, but there’s just something to the way you stand and look now — something that tells him you’re belittling his feelings.

“I’ll pay you a dollar for you to unclench,” you add belatedly, the delivery at the context striking Jimin the wrong way that he just can’t hold back.

“Do you find this funny?” he shakes his head, breathlessly laughing. “Or was that not even a joke?”

“Well do you hear-…” you counter but you’re interrupted, the way Jimin’s looking at you now makes you feel both angry and inferior. This is just so trivial for you but for reasons you can’t grasp, it’s huge to Jimin.

“Because that’s what you’re good at, right? Paying other people off? You know, throwing your money at other people’s faces just because you can?” Jimin burns you with his words and you recoil, your tongue pressed to your cheek at his gall. You try not to let it get to you, the laugh that escapes you dripping with sarcasm.

“That’s rich, Jimin. Fucking hilarious.”

Jimin swallows the lump on his throat — you can’t possibly know, can you? Maybe it’s your wording that throws him off, or maybe it’s the glance you have on him that’s so empty, it reflects pools and pools of your growing indifference the past few weeks.

He can’t stop opening his mouth, chest heaving from being overwhelmed.

“Is being mistaken for Yuri’s mother such a shame to you?” he spits, gaze following you because you’re already turning away from him.

You try to get out of the room before you say something you don’t mean, to hit him where it hurts; the words in your mind far from desirable. It would ruin Jimin, perhaps even the way he regards his parenting for his daughter who only has him.

You swing the door open when Jimin lays it on you one more time, making you freeze.

“Is my daughter just so bad you can’t even call her by her name?”

Jimin sees you stutter in your steps, shoulders lowering. You can’t say anything in your honor, not even having the strength to mumble a half-assed snarky remark. 

What Jimin can only see is you looking back at him with tears in your eyes, the hollowness in them enough for him to see himself — full of hurt and misplaced rage.

( ♡ )

The next day that Jimin sees you, he can barely even recognize you.

You’re still dressed the the same, the same amount of gravitas radiating from you and the same elegance poised even in your shadow. But now, now you look unrecognizable.

Jimin feels like he’s nobody to you.

You look completely detached, looking only through him and not at him. Even Yuri can sense the shift, eyes glazing and flitting back and forth. It’s supposed to be your routine of having breakfast but here he is, standing pathetically outside of your office because that’s where his hunch led him to.

“There’s a sister hotel just an hour and a half away. Same ratings. There’s rooms for long-term rentals and the discount still applies. I already contacted the manager there, just tell them your name and your daughter’s.”

No. 

There’s no fathomable way that you just uttered those words, all with the knowledge that he just told you he’s not leaving yet.

“You can’t do this,” Jimin shakes his head, eyes desperate and distressed. Even Yuri’s eyes snap towards him, mouth parting in concern because she could feel the anxiety radiating off from him.

“Your setup would be almost exactly the same. It’s still in the city,” you insist pointedly, trying not to look at him for too long. You want to keep this as short as possible anyway.

“Y/N, you can’t do this!” he’s begging you now, the heaviness in his chest sinking deeper and deeper.

“I can.”

Jimin shakes his head, screwing his eyes shut. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go — the plan was to beg for your forgiveness and explain his mistakes if you ever give him the chance to. He didn’t expect he would run out so quickly.

“If you have a problem with me, confront me about it. Let’s fight about it. Don’t just literally take me out of the equation so you could avoid it,” he tries to remain stubborn, breathless at the thought that you’re resorting to this without hearing his side of the coin.

“I don’t want to fight with you. Who am I to fight with you?” you snap, voice wavering in addition. “You’re no one to me as much as I’m nobody to you.”

Jimin takes offense at that, mouth gaping in surprise, He can’t believe you at all. 

“You can’t just say that as if-…”

“As if you’re only a guest here in my hotel?” you interrupt him, just as the many times he did before. “I have the money to relocate you to a different hotel while you’re figuring things out. I have the money, Jimin — let me be the bigger person.”

“You’re just proving what I said,” he whispers out of anger, tears pricking. It stings so bad, the hurt so overpowering that even Yuri’s weight in his arms can’t hold him down. “Y/N, you are so goddamn shallow.”

You reach your breaking point the moment Jimin utters his reply, voice raising that it swallows him whole.

“If I’m shallow, would I have turned a blind eye to you stealing from me?”

Jimin stands in front of you. Raw, vulnerable, and ashamed.

He wants the ground to swallow him whole. Yuri heard you and if only she could fully understand, she’d know too how shitty of a dad he is. After all, she was wide awake and watching when he got his hands on your purse.

“You knew?” he whispers, the tears running down freely on his cheeks. You didn’t even want him to know that you were aware; it just slipped out of you.

“I-I was in a tough spot. I didn’t… I-I needed it for-…”

“And I knew that. I didn’t do anything about it because I knew you needed it,” your voice softens, chest tightening at the thought that you hit him where it hurts. That although it’s not the entirety of your intrusive thoughts that begged to be aired out, it still hurt.

“Why didn’t you? Fuck, why do you have to be so good? Why do you have to be such a martyr?” Jimin spits, his inner monologue coming into play with so much anger for himself that it spreads to you.

He gathers himself as best as he could, holding onto Yuri for dear life because if he doesn’t, he feels like he’ll collapse to his knees. And then he realizes. “So you’re not mad about me stealing from you?”

“No,” you answer silently and truthfully. “You’re a good dad, Jimin,” you praise him even if you’re made at him. Even if you’re fighting and even if you feel so hurt because the truth is simply the truth, not praise. “And sometimes, good dads need to do what they think is best.”

“You’re not mad at me for stealing your money,” Jimin whispers in realization, shaking his head to get himself to understand. “Then please, tell me, why are you so mad at me?”

You freeze.

And you don’t will yourself to answer.

“The chauffeur’s coming in to drive you an hour from now,” you deflect after a bout of silence, going back into your office and shutting the door on him. “Get to packing.”

“Open up, please. Y/N, you can’t just flee every time,” Jimin heaves, knocking insistently at your door. He’s not only talking about your physical distance but he’s talking about your gaze — how you look so empty and unwilling to let anyone come close this time; even before he said the shit he did.

Jimin leans to the door, clawing at it weakly before he hears Yuri starting to sniffle before she breaks out into a sob.

“Let me in.”

[ffsg0jo]

LIJA! i love the tags under ur reblog of buzzcut season! im so glad u liked it <3 and yes, sukuna would look incredible with a buzz

omg my askbox has been completely lagging wtf. this is the first time in a while im checking my ask box on the web app and all of a sudden your ask pops up. i did not see this in my mobile app what on earth is going on.

i'm so so sorry for not answering this i dont even know when you sent this but i'm so sorry. this is like the third time this has happened new asks keep appearing on the website inbox.

also i still remember this fic so vividly and i just burst out laughing at sukuna being in jail again you are so so funny. i think i'd really realllyyyy like buzzcut sukuna. i can just imagine him with a white tanktop, grey sweats and a silver chain. gojo is hilarious though lmao he should be so glad he's rich, one of his only saving graces. you're an amazing and wonderful writer and ughhh i love everything you write. your brain <33333

anyways i hope you're having a wonderful day my love <3333 take care xxx

[kedreeva]

ST PROMPT: HAPPY, ENERGY, GRANDCHILDREN

(my askbox is open for prompts)

"They're here!" Eddie bellowed from somewhere in the front room, like an excited puppy even now.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Well, let them in, I'll be out in a minute!"

As he pulled the last batch of sugar cookies from the oven, he heard the sound of the front door bursting open and the blare of children shrieking at the top of their lungs.

"Grandpa Eddie!!!!!!"

Laughter filled the air, and Steve couldn't help his smile, listening to the quieter murmur of adult greetings. He transferred the cookies to the cooling rack, checked the time, and then looked over as Nancy appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Not going to say hi?" she asked.

"And risk burning the cookies?" he said, shaking out of his oven mitts and holding his arms open to her. She walked into them without hesitation, her own going around his waist and squeezing. "Nat gave me one more chance last year."

Nancy snorted to hide her laugh. "I would say I doubt she remembers, but she did mention it on the ride over."

"See!" Steve said, letting her go. "But, I'd rather not get scolded by a five year old about ignoring her, so. Come on."

He offered her his arm for the short walk to the living room. The whole thing - the whole house, really - had been decorated to the nines for Christmas. Eddie has insisted on hanging lights inside, and putting up fake snow, and decorating the tree himself. Steve had put out the collection of little santa figurines they had acquired over the years, and the reindeer. There was gingerbread sitting in the dining room, with all the candy and icing supplies a rowdy group of children could want, waiting to be turned into houses for everyone to take home.

Jonathan lit up when he saw them return, and he bounced the tiny child on his leg once before setting her feet on the floor and pointing her in Steve's direction. Natalia, up in Eddie's arms still, spotted Steve and squirmed free with another ear-splitting shriek. Steve caught her as she launched herself at him, and spun her around despite the protest of his back. She was little enough still. For a little longer.

"Hey jellybean, how ya been?" he asked, taking a sloppy kiss to the cheek with grace.

She immediately began to babble at length about her first time at school, and the friends she had made, and Steve had to drop a hand from holding her to touch her younger sister's head as she reached Steve's leg and hugged him, too. Nancy swooped down and scooped Millie up, cradling her like a baby and bringing her around so Steve could smile at her, too.

"Where's your mom?" Steve asked, when Nat paused for breath. He had thought Cara and Joe were coming with Nancy and Jonathan, but it looked like it was just the four of them.

"She'll be here," Nat said, squirming to get down again. "Did you burn the cookies?"

"I did not," Steve said, shooting Nancy a told you so look.

The doorbell rang again, the door opening before anyone could even answer it, and suddenly there were even more children as Robin's family arrived. Robin lit up like a christmas tree the second she saw Steve, and she abandoned Vickie to come toss her arms around Steve's shoulders and hug him tight. Steve squeezed back, giving Vickie a smile over her shoulder, and nodding to their daughter and her husband and trying to catch sight of the little twins that rocketed past on their way to see their cousins.

"Glad you could make it," he said before releasing her.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Robin said. "I thought we'd be first, we're early!"

"You know how Nancy gets," Eddie said, pulling Robin into a hug of his own as Steve opened his arms for a smiling Vickie.

Nancy smacked his arm. "Hey! Don't blame this on me. It was either come early or listen to Nat yell the time every five minutes until we left."

"We should have waited to teach her how to read a clock," Jonathan lamented, and everyone laughed.

"Everyone's coming though, right?" Robin asked as she hugged Nancy, kissing her cheek and giving her a little wink. "The whole party?"

"Can't have a party without... well, the party," Steve ended a bit lamely. "I think the only one who wasn't sure was Erica, because she was supposed to have some fancy hotshot meeting out East, but that got canceled last night, so she'll be flying in." He checked his watch, but they still had a couple of hours until her flight arrived. "Drinks?"

"I'll help," Robin said instantly.

"She means she's got gossip and she can't wait to get you alone," Vickie translated, as if Steve needed it. Robin turned, offended, and Vickie just shrugged. "It's true, babe."

"Yeah but you don't have to say it!" She laughed, and grabbed Steve by the elbow. "Come on, Eddie can handle everyone for a minute. You are not going to believe what happened with Sharon."

Considering that Steve talked almost nightly with Robin and had been hearing about Sharon's Shenanigans(tm) for over a year now, Steve was pretty sure he actually would believe it, but he threw a glance to Eddie, who nodded that he had things under control, and headed for the kitchen with Robin.

It felt good, honestly. All of it. Familiar. He loved this time of year, the way the party collected, pooled in one place in a way that didn't involve monsters or alternate realities and adding more trauma. Just good food, gifts, and laughter, the way things ought to be. The way they had worked so hard to for it to be, given so much of themselves to protect. He had always expected the group as a whole would save the world, but there had been a time he'd honestly thought he wouldn't make it to this side to see it.

But here, standing in the kitchen and watching Robin pour drinks for everyone while she rambled about her catty coworker at the craft store, he thought maybe it was always supposed to go like this. Maybe there was always supposed to be a happy ending, and maybe he was supposed to be a part of it.

[gayaristocrat]

I Got Everything I wanted...

Episode 1: Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience...

Pairing: Vision x Male Reader

Taglist: N/A

‼️Authors Note‼️: I'm finally at a point where I can write this story. I know that It is long overdue, so I hope this can make up for it. This story is going to be breaking the 4th wall a lot since they tend to do that in the actual show. Also, please let me know in my Inbox/Askbox if you would like to be tagged every time I upload a story to this series. While reading this, you may realize that it seems rushed, and that's because it was. I wanted to put this out as soon as I possibly could. Also since you guys voted that I just divide it up into parts for you to read. I will be uploading part 2 whenever I am able to.

Summary: (Male Name) and Vision struggle to conceal their powers during dinner with Vision's boss and his wife

Time Period: 1956 (So everything in this chapter is going to be colorless and in black and white)

Word count: 4k+

Word Key:

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Have you ever dreamed of living the life you always wanted? Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where you would do anything to get it. Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where all of your care for others went out the window? Have you ever dreamed of wanting something so bad to the point where you would stop anyone who gets in your way.

"(Male Name), I love you so much. Please don't do this, cant you see that everyone is hurting, that everyone is in so much pain?"

"I'm sorry Vision, but I can't. I can't loose you...not again. I never meant for things to be this way, but now I can't go back. Not without you"

---REWIND MANY EPISODES BACK---

For a second, everything is black. The TV clicks on and a burst of grey static illuminates the screen. Everything is black and white, not a single drop of color is in the area. A happily little tune starts playing as a colorless 1956 Buick Special drives up a tiny hill and back down past a sign which says 'Speed Limit 35'. The camera angle changes to the back of the car, showing a banner above the license plate, 'Just Married'. Next, the camera cuts to us, (Male Name) and Vision, newlywed husbands.

It finally happened, we finally got married! Both of us turn take a quick look and smile at each other with nothing but love and glee, it seemed like nothing could go wrong in this moment.

🎵Oh~

A newlywed couple just moved into town,

A regular husband and husband,🎵

Vision turns his head back to the road and continues driving until we turn down a happy little neighborhood. Each house on the street has a pattern of different color greys with black roofs, their yards decorated with equally bland colorless flowers and grass. Children playing outside, and adults chatting with one another while they tend to their gardens, or while walking their dogs. Everyone is just so cheery and happy, even the mailman waves at us as we pass him. Everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be, perfect.

🎵Who left the big city,

To find a quiet life,

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

Vision drives into the driveway of our new home. We quickly hop out of the car and approach the house, but before we walk in I take notice of the 'For Sale' sign still in the yard. I quickly flick my hand and use my magic to change the sign to 'Sold'. After that I dust my hands off with a proud smile on my face as Vision scoops me in his arms bridal style, opens the front door, and carries me inside. I flick my wrist again and the front door closes and locks as we both move to the Livingroom of our already decorated 2 story home.

🎵He's a magical boy,

In a small town locale

And a hubby who's part machine,

How will this duo fit in and pull through?🎵

Once Vision puts me back on my feet, we start swaying with the jingle playing in the background while title cards pop up of written words that I don't care to read right now since I'm too busy enjoying this happy moment with my new husband. Vision then gives me a little twirl before wrapping his arms around my waist as we both dip into a loving heartfelt kiss.

🎵Oh, by sharing a love,

Like you've never seen

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

---SCENE CHANGE---

The scene suddenly changes as the lights flick on and cameras start rolling. You start the scene off by walking into the kitchen and start making your way to one of the grey drawers next to the oven and you grab one of your favorite aprons. Humming a little tune, you wrap the white cloth around your waist and start observing the kitchen to see what needs to be picked up or cleaned. Deciding to work on putting up the dishes, you raise your hand and the newly cleaned plates start levitating off of the counters and float off to the display racks, you then raise your other hand and a dark colored dish cloth floats out of the cabinet and it begins drying a glass cup. You then turn your back to the cup to observe if it had been cleaned good enough, suddenly you jump as a loud crash echoes through out the kitchen. Turn to see what the problem is, you only to find Vision looking up from today's news paper and glances at the shattered plate at the ground while a laughing crown erupts out of nowhere.

"My husband and his flying saucers" He says in his thick English accent (or is it British🤔), with a joking tone.

"My husband and his indestructible head" I reply back in the same tone as another laugh erupts from the crowd.

He then folds his newspaper and walked over to your direction, giving you a kiss on the cheek when he arrived, causing you to chuckle while twirling your finger, making the plate form back to it's original round shape before it floats off to it's designated spot.

"Vision, honey, what do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orang juice and black coffee?" You say while walking over to the refrigerator, opening it and bending down, getting ready to grab out everything needed to make the meal for him.

"I'd say 'Oh, I don't eat food' " He says smiling at me, while the crown laughs again.

You look inside the fridge and hum to yourself in surprise while putting all the pieces together in your head before saying "Well, that explains the empty refrigerator then"

"(Male Name), my darling. Is there something special about today?"

"Well, I know the apron is a bit much dear, but I'm doing my best to blend in and have the 'Perfect House Husband' look." You say walking to meet him, assuming he's talking about the apron.

"No no, you don't have to try, you already are the perfect house husband." He says as he lightly grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and lightly giving you a 'boop' on the nose. "But I was referring to the calendar. Someone's drawn a heart right above today's date." You then looked at him as you cluelessly try to figure out what he's talking about, so he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around to face the calendar behind you and he rests his chin on your head as you both look at the heart.

Trying to act like you know what day it is, you say "Well...d..dont tell me you've forgotten Vis?"

"Oh silly (y/n), I'm incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That's not an exaggeration. In fact, I'm even incapable of exaggeration" He rambles boastfully.

"Hmm, well then if that's true, then maybe you can tell me what's so important about today's date"

He pauses for a second and thinks before he blows a slow puff of air out of his mouth, then deciding on saying "Uhhh...what was the question again? Oh well, no matter, perhaps you've forgotten yourself"

"Me? Heavens, no, haha. I've been so looking forward to it."

You both have actually been looking forward to day. Today you are celebrating...The first time you...uhhh...have ever celebrated this occasion before. It's a special day indeed, perhaps an evening?...of great significance?...to you both, naturally.. obviously...exactly! Well done for the both of you.

You two ramble on for a few more minutes trying to drill the other into spilling on what was so special about today, but you two couldn't since you were both obviously unknowing about it, then Vision remembered something.

"Well, sorry darling, that's me off to work, then." Vison says fixing his grey suit jacket and grabbing his suitcase walking to the front door. You quickly grab his hat hanging on the coat rack and place it on his head, fixing it to make it look straight.

"Also don't forget-"

"(Male Name), my dear how many times do I have to tell you I don't forg- oh you mean my face right?"

You nod letting him know that was what you were getting at. The audience laughs again as he quickly shakes his head and his face and hands transform from cold metal to warm flesh. Vision then puts his palm to his face and pretends to blow you a kiss, while you play along and pretend to catch it and put it over your heart.

Once he leaves out the door, you lock it a return to the kitchen, and make your way to the calendar, chewing on your polished nails (if you don't want nail polish then skip that part) as you try to remember the symbolism of the heart. Not even a second later your thoughts get interrupted as a loud knock at the door startles you back to 'reality'.

Going to go see who it is, you push the door that separates the living room and the kitchen, closer to the knocking. You quickly open the door and see a woman with a dark plaid dress and a styled black hairdo holding a grey plant in a white pot.

"Oh hello, dear. I'm Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours" She says in a sing-song tone as she uninvitedly makes her way into the house. The eruption of cackles echo as you look at her in confusion as to why she decided to step inside, but decided to keep a calm attitude and not say anything about it.

"Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town...so I wasn't!" she says laughing with the audience once more as her dress sways with her movements. She rushes the potted plant into your arms and you smile and take it as she makes her way into the living room to continue her snooping. "So what's your name? Where are you from? And most importantly how's your bridge game, hon?" She says not loosing a single breath, and of course not giving you time to answer in between questions.

"Umm...Well I'm (Male Name)" You say reaching your hand out to shake hers

"(Male Name)? Charmed!" She joyfully says and returns the gesture.

"Golly, you sure do settle fast! Yes sir you did indeed! Did you use a moving company?"

"Why I sure did. Those boxes don't move themselves." The audience laughs as your inside joke, because let's be honest, the boxes did move themselves since you used your magic to decorate everything. (Damn (Male Name), you really are a powerful sum' bitch)

'"So (Male Name), what's a single boy like you doing rattling around this big house?" She says siting on the couch.

You laugh to yourself and dreamily look at the finger your ring should be on that Vision gave you to claim you as his, (He liked it so he put a ring on it.....sorry...anyways) but paused as it wasn't there. That's not right, because you could have sworn that it was there when you created this rea-

"Oh no, I'm not single I-"

"Well I don't see a ring

"Well I can promise you, I am indeed married...To a man. A human one and tall too! A a matter of fact, he'll be home later tonight for a special occasion just the two of us." You say putting emphasis on 'occasion' with a wink.

"Oh is it somebody's birthday? A holiday?" Agnes questions bouncing up and down in the couch with her legs crossed like a 'proper lady'.

"Well, no and no"

"An anniversary then?"

"Ye-uhh...yes, Its our anniversary!" You shout, finally able to remember what that heart meant.

Agnes waves you over to come sit on the couch with her and you obey, sitting down she grabs and rests both sets of you two's clasped hands on your apron.

"Sooo...tell me, how many years" She asks letting out a little squeal.

"Well..uhhh..it...it uh feels like we've always been together"

"You lucky man-" She shakes her head remembering about her own husband "-the only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer names June 2nd." She chuckles as the audience laughs from nowhere again. "So what do you have planned?"

"How do you mean?" You questioned her. I mean you never really did have time to come up with anything since you just realized, or assumed, what today was.

"For your special night, (Male Name)! A young boy like yourself doesn't have to do much, but it's still fun to set the scene. Say-" she says standing up to slowly make her way to the door "-I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article called 'How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband', and let me tell you somethin'...what Ralph could really use is, 'How to Goose Your Wife So You Don't Loose Your Your Wife'. She kidd's as her and the audience laugh. You look at her and shake your head trying to hold back your own laughter. "Hang on, I'll go grab it and we can start planning. Oh, this is gonna be a gas!" She shouts running to the door so she can leave and run to her house.

-----Time Skip---

Both Agnes and you are back on the couch, looking through her magazines trying to find ideas for the anniversary dinner you planned for you and Vision to share, when out of nowhere, the phone started ringing interrupting you two. You got up and rushed over to it hoping you don't miss the unknown caller, you pick it up and put it to your ear and then start talking.

"Vision residence how may I help you"

"(Male Name), darling I-"

"Vision, my dearest husband. How are you sweetheart?" You say cutting him off from his obviously panicked and frantic voice. I mean come on, you are just excited to hear your husband's voice after a hours of him being gone.

"Listen about tonight-"

You cut him off again, already knowing that he was going to talk about the anniversary. "Don't worry, dear, I have everything under complete control"

"Oh, well, that is a relief. I must confess, I'm really rather nervous" He says over the phone.

"Nervous? Whatever for?" You question.

"Well, you know, darling, I still get a little tongue-tied."

The audience coo's and aww's at how a dust of grey creeps up on your (dark grey/grey) cheeks. "Vis, after all this time..." you giggle out.

"There's a lot riding on this (Male Name)! If tonight doesn't go just so, I think this could be the end.

'Wait what' you think to yourself

"Well, it's just one night. There's no need to get dramatic." You say in a worried tone as you grasp your now queasy stomach.

Vision's tone begins to get more serious as the conversation continues in his attempt to express how important this is to you. "Look, I think the best course of action is to impress the wife."

"Well, first, I think you mean husband. And secondly I also think the best course of action is to impress the other husband too." You look over and give Agnes a thumbs up and a wink in her direction, and she does the same while sipping her martini.

"Glad to know we're both on the same page, love. Until tonight, then, my sweet little husband" Vision says making two smooching noises through the phone to you.

"Until tonight...my robotic husband" You return, whispering the last part so Agnes doesn't hear you. She couldn't hear you anyways, being too busy sipping her drink and flipping through the pages. You finally gently put the phone on the hook and return to the couch.

---Time Skip, Later Tonight---

Before Vision made it home, you set the big dining table that was next to the living room and tossed colorless silk scarfs on all of the laps in the room to set the mood and made your way to the bedroom to get dressed to surprise him for when he gets home. When you heard the door open and heard his voice, you tip toed your way out of the bedroom and into the living room, dressed a long fluffy white lingerie robe with white fur that wrapped around the arms of it which was trailing behind you, exposing both of your (dark grey/grey) legs. You then went all the way to Vision's black silhouette and gently wrapped your hands around his eyes, causing him to jump form the sudden contact.

The audience laughed again as they know your mistake. 'Where the hell is that laughing coming from, and whey is it happening right now of all times?' you thought to yourself in confusion.

"Guess who~" you seductively whispered to your husbands.

Suddenly the lights turn on and you hear Vision's voice that was filled with a mix of shock, embarrassment, and irritation at your recklessness. "(MALE NAME) WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

You gasp and look in his direction. "Vision? What are you-" then it hit's you, if Vision is right there, then who's-

"Oh! Oh my stars, I'm so sorry!" You say to the man you mistook for your husband. You quickly uncover his eyes and stumble away from him as he stares at you in shock. Then you look down at your attire and try to cover your exposed leg as much as possible.

"What is the meaning of this!" The bald headed mad says appalled, as his wife stands behind him looking around cluelessly.

Vision interrupts with his stammering voice just as confused as everyone else. "Well..uh yeah (Male Name) what is the meaning of-" Suddenly it hits him and he tries to comes up with an excuse off the top of his head. "-Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it...and...the meaning of it is...that this is the tradition of (Random Foreign Country/Continent) greeting of hospitality. Uhh...guess who???" Vision says as he runs behind you and overs your eyes.

"Oh is that my host being me?" You say playing along.

"It certainly is, darling. Lovely to make your acquaintance" Vision says vigorously shaking your hand. "See i forgot to tell you my husband is from (Random Foreign Country/Continent)" he giggles along with the audience.

"Oh, how exotic!" The man's wife cheerfully laughs.

"I never knew such a place as that existed" He says in a dark yet serious tone.

"Oh hush Author, have you no culture. Oh and the robe, I absolutely love it!" His wife replies trying to lighten up the awkward mood.

"Thank you so much ma'am-" you march through the living room and snatch off the silk scarves from all the lamps and tightly grab Vision's hand. "-Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?"

You both then slam your way through the kitchen door and it swings closed behind you, leaving Vision's boss and his wife behind as they sit down on the couch and patiently (more like impatiently on Arthur's end) wait for your return. You then turn around and look at each other before throwing questions.

"Who are those people?!"

"What are you wearing!?"

"Why are they here?"

"What are you wearing!?" Vision questions again boldly

"Well, it's out anniversary, that's why I'm wearing this!"

"Our anniversary of what?" Vison says, desperate to know what the hell you were talking about. Eventually you had enough of these shenanigan's and throw the scarves down at his feet stomping your way to the kitchen chairs. "Well if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!" you exaggerate, crossing your arms and pouting like a child

"(Male Name), darling! That...that man through there is my boss Mr. Hart! And his dear lady wife Mrs. Hart! The heart on the calendar was an abbreviation!" Vision whispers, roughly tapping his hand on the black heart drawn on the dull colored calendar.

You grab your head and shake it trying to put everything together. "Vision sweetie, you move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air. Who. Needs. To. Abbreviate!?"

Vision grabs both of your shoulders in an attempt to collect his thoughts and calm you down. "Darling, listen, it's all romantic to do the candles, the music, that stunning outfit. I don't wanna be unappreciative, but right now-"

"Your boss and his wife are expecting a home-cooked meal. Correct?" Vision nods his head while muttering 'exactly' while look around the kitchen in order to find somethin to serve to the unwarned visitation of guests. After looking around for a but, your eyes land on the mini round table that held a plate and food on it. "Well, does your boss and his wife have a hunger for a single chocolate-covered strawberry, split three ways?" Vision hisses while clenching his fists and shaking his head no.

"Oh wait, I might have better ideas" Without hesitation you raise both of your sands and snap your fingers, magically changing your outfit to the one you were wearing earlier that day, a pair of dark high waisted cuffed slacks and a white blouse to match (you can change if you don't like), and the audience claps in astonishment at your transformation whilst you tie your apron in a bow behind your back. Vision gives you a quick peck on the cheek and runs back to the living room to keep others company while you figure out what to serve everyone.

---Time Skip---

After minutes of looking, you couldn't find anything in the kitchen, and the refrigerator was empty, so you decided to call your good neighbor Agnes to see if she could pick up some things from the store and bring it over. A couple of minutes pass and you finally hear a familiar knock on the back door in the kitchen. As soon as you open it Agnes rushes through with her hands full of groceries stacked to her chin as she stumbles through the kitchen. Before you could even mutter out a 'thank you' she stops you dead in your tracks and puts all the food down on the table. "Before you can say anything don't think about it. I mean, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place. Not that Ralph wants to eat anything other than baked beans, which explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you." The audience laughs one more at her silly humor as you quickly render to her aid to grab some of the groceries before they could fall. Unfortunately, it seems like the Universe was not on your side since the large cooking pot crashed and hit the ground, echoing throughout the kitchen, while Agnes yelled out an overexaggerated 'oh my'.

You had to get rid of Agnes and as quickly as you can, so you decided to just push her out the back door despite her protests to help you cook. "Thank you so much Agnes but I can take it from here-"

"Are you sure dear, many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip too!"

"Oh ahahaha, you are so naughty! But-"

"Oh, shall I preheat the oven then? hmm?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you for your time!"

Somehow she managed to escape your grasp on her waist and make her way back to the counter to crab some kitchen tools to start cooking for you. "Well, I know you're in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap." She says snapping her fingers before continuing her rambling. you run back over to her and snatch the utensils from her, setting them on the counter, and grabbing her arms to march her back to the door. "Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start. Chicken à la King with twice-cooked new potatoes for your second course, and Steak Diane with mint jellies for your main. Oh wait! Do you set your own jellies, dear?"

"Yes Agnes I do, now can you please-"

"Ah there you go, good boy! Recipe cards are all on the counter there. Bon Appétit!"

"Haha, yes will do, thank you so much again Agnes! Bye now!" You say slamming the door, making the audience laugh at your exhausted expression. Now that she's gone, you run to the middle of the kitchen and throw your arms around, making all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen fly open, the dishes start floating out, and the food starts cooking. Out of no where the doors to the island bar swoop open to show Mrs. Hart, but before she could see Vision distracts her by breaking out and singing Yackety Yack by The Coasters, causing her to break out into a little dance, making her way back to the couch. Dear gods and goddess', how lucky are you to have a savior like him.

But little did you know, that the night was only just beginning.

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Finish the fic? Leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it. Also, give it a reblog too! Once again, I'm so sorry it was rushed! Please don't be afraid to let me know if there are any typos or errors. I will go back and edit this

[chocolate-parfait]

Yay, askbox is open! I hope that means requests too, if not please ignore this and sorry. But could I request another angst? Could I please ask for headcannons for Dazai (and the others could be either Theo, Vincent, Leo, Comte, Will or Arthot, you can choose two, 'cause I can't XD) who find their S/Os suicide note? You can take it wherever you want from there. Thank you so much, love your works <3 Have a grwat day!

Hi @robin-the-enby !! I'm happy to see you in my inbox again, and although this took me embarrassingly long (my procrastination tendencies and school got the better of me :,)), I'm more than happy to provide something that will help with your coping! Despite it all, I hope that you'll get better soon and hang on a while longer. I'm sure this prolonged pandemic has had negative effects on most people's mental health, but remember that we'll get through this in one way or the other! Stay strong and keep fighting, if it gets too much don't hesitate to take a break and go easy on yourself❤

Halfway through I realized I was writing scenarios instead of simple headcanons ,, I was too engrossed in writing to realize it oops 🧍‍♀️ 🧍‍♀️ 🧍‍♀️

Finding MC'S suicide note - Ikevamp headcanons (Dazai, Arthur & Leonardo)

(TW; suicide / mentions of self-harm / major character death / blood)

(CW; slight and inaccurate spoilers for Dazai's past)

For those who'd like to avoid specific contents, this is what I wrote for each suitor:

Dazai - MC is unconscious and bleeding, I didn't specify whether they survive or not

Arthur - MC is stopped before they can do anything, survives

Leonardo - MC isn't stopped in time, dies

Dazai

It was as if history was repeating itself. The message, the bloodied sheets and the unconscious body. The only different thing was perhaps.... him. It was a him that had experienced true happiness, a him that had learned forgiveness, a him that knew better than retort to suicide as a way of repentance. And yet... was it not enough? Dazai's mind swirled with the pungent thoughts of his own fate as he ran with your body in his arms. He ran, and ran, and ran, passing by a seemingly endless succession of hallways and wooden doors.

Never before did he wish your room was closer to Arthur's, as he felt your body grow colder and his clothes dampen with blood with each step forward. And yet the stars that were now adorning the night sky's black cape, seemed to be offering their compassion to him, for when Dazai burst into the writer's room he saw him sitting at his desk, completely sober and still functioning in the middle of the night.

Arthur slightly turned in his chair, and as he was about to comment with displeasure how rude it was of the man to come into his room completely unannounced, his mouth was left agape and eyes wide open, wordlessly staring at your limp and seemingly unmoving body as the smell of blood hit his nostrils in mere seconds.

"What in the Heavens happened-?!" Arthur abruptly stood up, leaving his half-finished manuscript forgotten on the table, rushing closer to check your pulse. The two novelists had never liked each other, a difference in life choices maybe, but it surely was not a hate that could surpass even the most perilous of situations, particularly because you were an outsider to their rivalry. As such, Arthur did not hesitate to put to good use all his medical knowledge, carefully rushing through every step to avoid the worst.

Seconds slowly transformed into hours, although Dazai was convinced time had stopped ever since the moment he had found you on your bed, utterly frozen in a state of unconsciousness with a crumpled letter of apologies laying on the bloodied sheets. The only thing that perhaps gave him the slightest hint to time’s passing was the way he could feel the blood on his chest and hands grow drier as the night morphed into the day.

As the first rays of light poked from behind the thick curtain of the doctor’s room, Dazai sat by his bed, right next to you, silent and outwardly calm, although dazed in the raging storm inside his heart.

Perhaps this was what Destiny itself had decided for him. Perhaps it was wrong of him to blame casualty instead of himself. His old, stupid self, who hadn’t learnt a single thing from past mistakes. But as his fellow vampire’s warm hand came to rest on his shoulder, Dazai decided to delay all judgment about his negligence until the Gods determined your fate.

Arthur

Staring at the familiar handwriting, Arthur felt his whole body grow numb, as if someone had thrown him in the darkest depths of the ocean, leaving him to suffocate under the overwhelming weight of the waters above.

He had noticed the worsening of your symptoms, but he had never imagined you'd go to these lengths. He had gravely underestimated your condition, and he could already hear the old ghosts of his past laughing at him, pointing their fingers while mocking him. But now, he had no time to worry about his own lack of foresight; his priority was getting to you in time, so that all could be fixed, hopefully.

Scanning the writing on your tear-stained note, his brain started listing all the possible places where you could've gone with a speed that would leave speechless even Sherlock Holmes himself. The writing was hurried and scrambled, meaning that it was a sudden decision. The city was too far away and bustling with people that could interfere, so it was an unlikely location. As he was running around the mansion in search of you, he passed in front of the terrace on the last floor; there, he saw your clothes swirling in the wind, and your figure standing on the stone railing.

He almost crashed against the glass door as he launched himself forward with extreme speed. You were there, looking down and slightly trembling. You were scared, as it was normal, but if death frightened you so, then what pain would be so strong to push you in its embrace? To drive you away from his warm arms and into the eternal darkness? Was such a painful experience worth the possible relief?

"MC!!!" Arthur shouted out of instinct with his whole lungs, like a volcano erupting in all its fury. A few steps later and you were falling backwards, your back colliding with his chest as he harshly pulled you to him. It all happened so fast that you didn't even have the time to turn your head and look at him. Now that you were on the ground, safely locked in his embrace, everything slowly sank in.

His voice came out choked and trembling. "W-what were you thinking-?!" He was trying so hard to hold everything back; the tears, the sobs, the anger in his voice. He was angry at himself, and you were not the target of his resentment, but he realized that it could be easily misunderstood by someone in your situation. Taking a deep breath and turning you around, he stared deeply into your pained eyes, softening his iron-like grip on your forearms.

His voice now steadier yet gentle with affection and worry added:"Love, I'm sorry for not noticing all of this sooner. I'm sorry for not helping you enough. Still, I want to be of some use to you, I want to be there for you.” A sharp breath interrupted his speech, maybe from him, you or perhaps both of you. “…So please, please rely on me; whenever you feel like you can't do it anymore, whenever you feel like you have enough of life, give me the chance to help you."

Seconds later, you burst into tears, sobbing confused "I'm sorry"s in the crook of his neck. Arthur slowly caressed your hair soothingly, as his heart continued to painfully hammer against his chest. He knew this was not going to be an easy nor a short journey; it was going to take time, and it would be hard, but he wouldn't give up on you no matter what. Through thick and thin, the way you did for him, he was going to support you the whole way.

"I love you more than anything in the world, MC." he added at last, hugging you tightly.

Leonardo

The deafening sound of crickets did not reach the man’s ears. He couldn’t hear anything but the fast pumping of his own blood in his veins. A heartbeat that had never and would never stop; stronger than anyone else’s, but also alone. The sound of his heart was utterly lonely, the only one under the white gazebo, now shrouded in the darkness of the night.

How much he would give not to hear it anymore, to put an end to it right then and there. But he couldn’t. And as Fate loved torturing him endlessly, he was now once more deprived of a person he loved. But this time was different than the countless others before. He thought he had gotten used to the company offered by Death herself, and it had been long ever since tears burned within his eyes, as if made of fire.

Between his arms laid a lifeless body, utterly still and deprived of any warmth. It seemed like mere moments had passed when Leonardo was contentedly caressing your hair as a tired yet relaxed sigh fell from a pair crimson lips, which whispered some loving words before blooming into a smile. Now, they were pale and slightly agape, a cold frown sculpted onto the body’s face. Perhaps he had gotten so used to the passage of time that he did not pay it more mind. Perhaps all his memories took place too long ago, and perhaps things had changed considerably from those happy moments you shared.

Leonardo’s expression subconsciously mimicked your own, one that would remain in his mind for who knows how long, and he did not dare to move away, sitting there with you for the very last moments of his eternally long life. He tried not to think about the way his heart lurched in his chest like a ship at sea during a storm when he found your note. Your handwriting, calm and precise as if it was a decision you had made long ago; where was his mind wandering off to while you were deciding to seal your own fate?

Silently strangling all those whirling thoughts in his head until they died down, leaving him in a deathly silence, he lovingly bid you farewell with a final kiss to your lips.

“Hopefully, we’ll meet in another life.”

“Next time, I won’t let this happen again”

Suffering was human, but he had learnt all too well how contagious pain could be. And yet, he now found himself isolated in his grievance, for you weren’t with him anymore.

[velvetsehun]

Born to Die| OSH | 06

pairing: Oh Sehun x Reader genre: Mafia!Sehun rating: 18+ warnings: violence, gun use, mature language, smut (in future chapters), slow burn. words: 13.4k summary: a collusions of worlds is supposed to kill, but what if it can do something else? A/N: chapter 06, who would of thought huh? i certainly didn’t think anyone would care about this fic to begin with but here we are... 6 chapters in and 14 left to go! I hope you all enjoy, remember feedback is appreciated so drop into my askbox, lets chat ;)

TW// Warning this part contains some material that might be sensitive to readers as it depicts scenes of blood and violence, readers discretion is advised.

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The sound of wet shoes slapping against the pavement and the overwhelming humidity laying itself thick on his lungs was often something that Chanyeol liked to cherish about summer evening – to feel the season in the air and know that you were set for a long break away from the burdens of life, but what Chanyeol didn’t cherish was the pelting of rain whipping against his face in those summer evening as he ran for his life. 

The thickness in the air made it almost impossible to breathe at the rate he was going, the feeling of his blood carting around his veins at impossible speeding making almost impossible to keep running; but he had to keep going. 

“Come on…” He panted to himself, shivering at the feeling of his clothes clinging to him in such an awful way that he wanted to shed the damn second skin immediately. 

The screeching of his shoes against the pavement as he rounded the corner reminded him of just the predicament he was in; homeless, alone, and wondering when whoever was looking for him would eventually catch up. It was a lot for a 20-year-old, a lot to think about and a lot to deal with, but Chanyeol made his own decision to leave home and he had to live with it. 

They say the best things in life are often not planned, and to Chanyeol at one point that might have been true – but he knew deep down as he waded through the rain for his life, that every moment he spent fucking up got him here. Leaving your 20s was supposed to signify leaving behind adolescences and entering adulthood, but for him, it meant leaving behind his mistakes in the teens and carrying that burdens into his adult life. Glancing behind him briefly, he winced softly at the rain pelting against his flushed cheeks, the skin raw with the force of the water, but through the blurriness of the weather he could still spot the distorted shaped following him; clothed in black and hungry for vengeance. 

“More like hungry for money,” Chanyeol corrected his inner monologue softly, taking a moment to shove his hair out his face as he kept running. 

The streets were barren of people, the occasional passing car showing the thickness of the rain that coated the ground – the lights glinted off it like stars passing, Chanyeol liked the city rain but he liked living more. 

“Shit.” The young man swore, hearing the boom of a gun before a bullet whizzed past him lodging in the pavement in front of him, his tattered shoes skidding to a stop in freight. 

Eyes glancing at the cracked gravel where the smoking bullet laid now – its world took a complete turn as his running stopped, unsure if the chase was worth it anymore. Glancing around the street Chanyeol took in what he thought could be his final moment, the rundown restaurants and homes witness to his life. He could hear the footsteps rushing closer and his eyes shut softly as his neck went limp, shaggy hair falling into his eyes as the strands clumped together in a wet mess that dripped onto his face. 

“I’m sorry...” He thought to himself, sighing softly at the sound of footsteps nearing closer, he was bracing himself for the impact when his eyes burst open.

The feeling of a hand grabbing his sleeve and yanking him sideways sent him tumbling behind however done it, the familiar sound of a gun clocking filling the small ally – he winced softly at the impact his body to the ground but his eyes still flicked up to see who done it; a rather well dressed guy who looked around the same age as himself had his back to Chanyeol, now looking at the guy who was chasing him with his gun pointed. 

“Give me the kid,” The guy asked gruffly, nodding behind the other man, “And I won’t hurt you either kid.” But the man holding the gun merely giggled, much to Chanyeol’s shock.

“I can’t do that…” The giggling man teased, and honestly, Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he’d lost his mind. 

“And why is that,” Chanyeol’s assailant demanded, a look passing over his face.

“Because I don’t want to.” The giggling man stopped giggling, but he still had an amusing edge to his voice. 

“Fuck this,” The assailant tried to push past the other man, and Chanyeol felt himself scuttle back slightly but that grip of fear didn’t last long as the smaller man pushed the assailant back with a hard shove. 

“Now now,” The younger man toyed, “Let’s not get violent...” He sang softly like a mad man. 

“Step aside, kid.” The assailant, who truthfully Chanyeol didn’t know the name of demanded again, raising his own gun at the younger man, “Or I’ll shoot you instead.”

“No, you won’t,” The man said melodically again, and Chanyeol caught a glance of his face as he flicked the barrel of the gun that was pointing at him away like it was a fly much to Chanyeol’s horror. 

“And why is that.” The other man demanded, whoever was defending Chanyeol was clearly getting on his last nerves, but the younger man merely giggled again. 

“Do you see that car over there,” The young man pointed to something that was out of Chanyeol’s eye line, and he watched as the two men looked in the same direction. 

“Not saying I wouldn’t shoot you,” The young guy laughed softly, “But if you even lay a hand on me, there are going to be two very angry men ready to beat the shit out of you in that very car.” He giggled again. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The other man demanded, trying to distance himself away from the other guy, but the other man guy merely leaned in closer with a smirk whispering to him. 

“Who the fuck is this kid…” Chanyeol thought to himself, glancing between the two of them. Chanyeol kept watching in some twisted horror as the other man backed off with a blanched expression. 

The man backed away slowly before bolting out of the ally, the younger guys shoulders slumping in a sigh before he turned around fully to look at Chanyeol, a small smile gracing his mouth as he held out his hand to help him up. 

“You’re welcome,” He grinned slightly, still holding his hand out to Chanyeol who looked between the hand and his face in slight horror.

“Who…” Chanyeol stuttered slightly, but he was soon cut off as the other guy laughed. 

“I should probably introduce myself, I’m Byun Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun wasn’t sure if he’d ever have kids, but if the man had to name anything as his child then he’d say that Electric Kiss was as close as it was ever gonna get – albeit it was a booze-filled, drug flourishing child, but his none the less. It was something Sehun had given him as a side project to keep the man busy during the slower times that they faced every so often, not every day was shooting and plotting, it was a small sense of normality in Baekhyun’s otherwise weird schedule, it was something he could call his own. With tensions running high between the members of Exodus at the moment, he had expected tonight to be somewhere he could “let loose” for a while but his glass ceiling was shattered as he watched with annoyed eyes as his loving boss made his way into the establishment – security scattering around him like he was the president of some foreign country, not just a gang leader entering a club.

“Smile now,” Kyungsoo scoffed softly from his place in front of Baekhyun’s desk while the latter looked out the tinted glass to the empty dance floor where his boss was currently making his way through, “You’re normally happy go lucky,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes at that.

“Happy go lucky,” He repeated annoyed, “When did you become such a nice person,” He scoffed back.

“When Junmyeon decided to promote me,” Kyungsoo teased with a small smirk gracing his lips.

“Promote,” Baekhyun turned around with an eye roll, “Junmyeon also told Sehun to stay inside the compound but the giant idiot is here, so let us not call Jun’s word as bible now.”

“Did you think for one minute he’d listen to him?” Kyungsoo asked honestly, the scowl on Baekhyun’s deepening slightly as he plonked himself down at his desk with a grunt, “Sehun is in charge after all…” Kyungsoo ended with a small drawl.

“I’d hope he might have,” For the first time, Baekhyun looked put out, “Even I listen to Junmyeon.” The man exclaimed softly but Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, sometimes I listen to him,” Baekhyun corrected, “But I don’t currently have a bounty on my head, do I?” His eyes were blazing with concern for his younger boss.

“Idiot,” Baekhyun scoffed, picking up a random ornament on his desk to play with, “He’s going to get himself shot,” Kyungsoo hummed.

“Aren’t you like his bodyguard or something,” Kyungsoo asked, but there was a teasing edge to it – an enjoyment that he was undermining his job.

“He wishes,” Baekhyun huffed, “Glorified babysitter for a while but not his bodyguard, I’m his brother.” A small fondness glinting in his eyes.

“Brother…” Kyungsoo thought about it, “Isn’t that just a fancy term that says you have to take a bullet for him?” Baekhyun rolled his eyes to his company with an unamused look.

“I’d take a bullet for him, yes,” Baekhyun began with a pointed look, “But typically bosses aren’t supposed to be out in the field, and certainly not out in the field when some mystery person is out to get them,”

“Even I know he doesn’t like the compound,” Kyungsoo reminded Baekhyun, who huffed.

“None of us like it,” Baekhyun drawled, “Fuck, I’ve been there nearly every day of my life since I was a kid, I hate the place as much as the next person”

“Explains a lot,” Kyungsoo laughed softly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows.

“You grew up around Sehun didn’t you?” Kyungsoo asked honestly, he was never one to ask too many questions – especially questions about the past but he’d been in the gang so long that it didn’t matter anymore.

“Well, yes…” Baekhyun nodded, “My father was Sehun’s fathers second in command…” He looked confused about where this was going.

“Have you ever thought that he gets it from you?” Kyungsoo smiled slightly, drawing the commonalities between the pair – recklessness being a big factor.

“He wishes,” Baekhyun laughed softly, “That’s all his own, even I was still doing as I was told back then.”

“Hard to believe” Kyungsoo tsk’ed softly.

“I was a good kid,” Baekhyun mumbled softly looking off into the distance, “Shame really, this is how I turned out.”

Kyungsoo frowned slightly, even if he didn’t always toy around with the man like he often wanted him too, Kyungsoo could see that Baekhyun’s actions always head somewhat good intentions – it was family first, and he’d seen first-hand the lengths he’d gone to for someone before.

“You’re a good man,” Kyungsoo assured him, but it didn’t sit right with Baekhyun.  

“A bad man that does a good deed isn’t a good man,” Baekhyun sighed softly, “He’s still rotten at the end of the day, it just shows he can think of something else besides himself for once.”

“Do you really believe that?” Kyungsoo asked with a raised brow.

“I don’t exactly have a clean record,” Baekhyun tutted softly, “Sometimes if I look hard enough, I think my hands might be permanently stained with someone else’s demise.” He frowned softly staring at his hands.

“I know a few people that might beg to differ,” Kyungsoo said almost softly to the older man, much like how he’d seen his companion speak to their boss sometimes, “He’s not here right now, but I know Chanyeol thinks the world of you,” Baekhyun chuckled softly at that.

“Right place, right time,” Baekhyun said honestly, “Not that I’m not glad, but that’s not redemption.” He kicked his legs up on the desk.

“Who said you need redemption?” Kyungsoo asked honestly, “You’re not exactly the average person to begin with,”

“The second heir to the Byun estate,” Baekhyun mimicked his father’s voice with a sarcastic edge to it, “Not like that shit matters now,” Kyungsoo looked slightly interested in that.

“How so?” Kyungsoo was always a questioner and Baekhyun chuckled at that.

“The second son gets nothing in our world,” Baekhyun laughed slightly but there was no humour behind it, “I’ll serve Exodus till my untimely death with no land, barely any family and no life” He sounded a bit put off by that.

“No marriage on the cards?” Kyungsoo asked, he knew it was common for the sons to get married off to affluent daughters.

“I’m sure If my father cared enough, I’d be married by now,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes, “But I don’t think he remembers I exist at this current moment,”

“Does anyone in this damn gang have a nice home life?” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes slightly and Baekhyun chuckled at that.

“Ask Yixing, I’m sure he’ll regale you with tales of his adoring family,” A new voice entered the conversation and the two men jumped too caught up in talking to each other. “Or maybe Jongdae, that man is always smiling for a reason.”

“Oh, so the prodigal son has decided to make his grand appearance,” Baekhyun raised his eyebrow looking at Sehun who had decided to make himself known to the two men, “Weren’t you told to stay home?” Baekhyun tutted.

“I’m here for business,” Sehun rolled his eyes while leaning against the door to Baekhyun’s office, “And I can handle myself,” He reminded them.

“Business in my club?” Baekhyun raised a brow, “Do I get to know about it?” Sehun smirked softly at that.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sehun teased, a lot more jovial in demeanour than when the two men had last seen their boss.

“I don’t fancy having my ass handed to me by Jun because I let you do something stupid,” Baekhyun’s eyebrow twitched slightly as the younger man merely hummed in a soft laugh.

“Just tell me where the bartender is, Baekhyun.”

Despite being a 25-year-old man, Sehun still found himself bossed around from time to time from his older brothers – the irony of it laying within the fact that he was at the end of the day still their boss, and by obligation, they were supposed to do what he says but regardless, he says nicely and listened to Junmyeon rant to him again.

“Please Sehun,” Junmyeon had a sternness in his eyes that Sehun knew he got from his father, “For the time being, just say out of the light for a while – we can handle the heavy lifting.” Sehun hummed at that, say at his desk gazing at the man who was flanked with their tallest member.

“And what if I don’t want to?” He argued slightly, his hands resting on his stomach as he lounged in his chair, “Last time I left you all to do your work it didn’t exactly go to plan” He tweaked his brow at them.  

“Sehun,” Junmyeon warned, Chanyeol looking almost uncomfortable beside him.

“Junmyeon,” Sehun pointedly said back, “I am not a child.”

“Then stop acting like one,” Junmyeon argued, Chanyeol flinching slightly at the heat in his boss’ eyes.

Sehun stared darkly at his second in command for a second before collecting himself, he detested being labelled a child, but he wasn’t about to cause a scene in the compound – he was better than that and doing so would only solidify Junmyeon’s statements.

“Fine,” Sehun grumbled after a beat of silence, “I’ll stay here if you wish me too,” He rolled his eyes slightly, Junmyeon deflated slightly at that – curious to how he gave in so quickly.

“You will…?” Jun quizzed looking at him sceptically.

“Yes.” Sehun affirmed, “I’ll stay out the light for a while if you’re so worried.” He pushed his tongue into his cheek in thought, clearly still not happy.

“Thank you,” Jun nodded glancing back at Chanyeol for a second, “I’m taking Minseok to scope out some of our casinos, you and Chanyeol try to get more out of our guest.” Junmyeon sighed slightly.

It wasn’t uncommon for the second in commands to overstep their places, Sehun’s had seen his fathers’ SIC do it all the time – but that still didn’t mean it didn’t grind his gears a bit. At times it felt like he was just the face for the gang, an affluent name that took “control” while the others schemed behind the curtains.

“Who am I in this game instead of the king?” Sehun thought wistfully while Junmyeon ran Chanyeol, who for the last few hours had been choosing to remain silent in the house, past everything he had to do.

The last few day’s had been tolling on everyone so it seemed, most of his men being sent off every direction in the city to just and find out how someone could infiltrate their shipments, while he stayed behind and handled the numerous phone calls from his head underlings about why his men were sniffing around their territory – Sehun hated the phone calls more than anything, but he had to but on a tone and brave it while he explained that his men were doing intake since he’d felt like things were “getting sloppy” within his ranks. No one really dared question him too much, he was their leader at the end of the day and if someone blinked wrong at him, they’d be taken out, but that still didn’t mean he enjoyed listening to them grumble.

“You get that, Sehun?” Junmyeon interrupted his thoughts while the younger man merely hummed and looked at him.

“Yes,” He grated out, waving his hand at his counterpart to just leave already, “Loud and clear, stay here, do this and most importantly keep out of trouble.” He rolled his eyes.

“Sehun…” Junmyeon warned slightly, but Sehun paid it no mind.

“I’m sure Chanyeol will make a fantastic babysitter, Jun” Sehun huffed, fixing his suit slightly in a fidget, “Go before I change my mind and elect to completely flout your warnings.”

Junmyeon merely gazed at the two with a pointed look before nodding slightly, making haste to get out the room with his phone already glued on his hand – the fluttering of his conversation bouncing around the empty hallway as he departed.

There was an air of silence before Sehun stood up from his desk, making sure his suit jacket was buttoned slightly and his phone was pocketed before he spoke.

“Tell someone to get my car ready, Chanyeol,” Sehun asked while he rounded his desk, much to the other man’s shock.

“But didn’t Junmyeon just say…” Chanyeol began but was promptly cut off by Sehun.

“Don’t go out in the light, yes I’m aware,” Sehun smirked softly before gesturing to his window – it was well past daylight and the moon had taken her role in the sky for the night, “But that doesn’t look like going out in the light to me.” He remarked as Chanyeol’s face dropped slightly.

“I won’t be able to stop you, will I?” Chanyeol asked honestly, crossing his arms over his chest

“Nope.” Sehun popped his lips slightly, “I’ve got business to attend to.” Chanyeol’s brow quirked.

“Business?” Chanyeol asked, “What are you up to now?”

“I’ve got a bartender to talk to,” A look passed over Chanyeol’s face at that.

“Why?” Yeol was getting defensive again, but Sehun merely chuckled.

“You’ll find out eventually,” Sehun hummed touching the older man’s shoulder as he walked past him, “Do me a favour, integrate our guest with Jongdae, if he’s still not talking after a while kill him” A dark look past over Sehun’s face.

“We have no use for him if he won’t talk,” Sehun said to his companion, “Understood?”

“Understood,” Chanyeol mumbled back, nodding slightly.

Sehun merely nodded back at him while patting Chanyeol’s shoulder as he finally walked past him to the door of his office, there was a brief pause at Sehun’s door while he thought for a second.

“I say this from a place of care, Chanyeol,” Sehun spoke honestly while looking over his shoulder, “Whatever’s in your head about this girl, let it go.”

“There’s nothing in my head,” Chanyeol grumbled back, “I just think your plan is stupid, what do you gain from this?” But Sehun merely chuckled.

“It’s not often I see your heart bleed,” Sehun hummed, “I’m trying to keep my men in check, you included”

“I am in check,” Chanyeol frowned.

“Really? You could have fooled me,” Sehun tutted softly, “I’ve watched you beat a man within an inch of his life and then some, but you’re choosing now to grow morals about who we involve?” Chanyeol’s eyes darkened slightly at the jab.

“I just think…” Chanyeol started but Sehun cut him off quickly.

“No Yeol,” Sehun began with a slight frown, “You’re not thinking, not at the moment – I don’t know what that girl triggered in you, but you need to sort it out, otherwise you’re going to get yourself killed or maybe even her.”

“I won’t.” Chanyeol tried to reason with his boss.

“Civilian relationships in any form don’t work.” Sehun reminded him, “Ask some of your brothers, your enemies don’t care who they are to you, as long as they’re something”

“Sehun...” Chanyeol started but again he was cut off.

“I did you a favour by making sure your family was protected the first time around, I can’t extend my kindness any further.”

“Sehun…”

It felt like a hit to your soul when you met eyes with the man situated at the bar, your physical body stagnant in the present while your soul decided to bolt out of there, leaving your flesh with a cold tingle to it. He looked a bit more casual than the last time you’d seen him, an all-black suit tailored perfectly to his lissom body; sans the tie and shirt unbuttoned three from the top, he looked like a walking piece of opulence, especially with his hair messily pushed back – a far cry from the hardened exterior of a man you’d seen before.

There was a cocktail of not only fear but anger swirling in your vein’s as you keep your gaze locked with the very man that caused it, his eyes dark and strong as the whiskey he was asking you for and settling straight onto your own, they were reading you; that much you could tell, the subtle twitch of them told you he was reading your face.

“I see you’re still alive,” He spoke, his tone deep and smooth as you remembered.

“No thanks to you,” You gritted slightly, hands wringing the cloth you were carrying like it was his neck, “What the fuck was that,” You leaned closer to him, his eyes dancing with a verge resemblance of shock at your tone before he straightened himself out.

“Be thankful you’re alive,” He drawled to you, leaning in himself as a challenge to your currently strong demeanour, “Some people aren’t always that lucky.” You could feel his breath hitting your cheeks, he smelled vaguely of mint and something stronger.

“I don’t think I should be thankful for almost suffocating in a plastic bag,” You hissed, eyes flickering to a group of people that were seated in a booth not too far from the bar.

“And what are you going to do about it,” He challenged you, his brow raised, his shoulders were squared but he wasn’t trying to threaten you, but you felt yourself stutter anyway.

“I…” You sentence dropped off, what were you going to do about it? It’s not like you could hit him like Chanyeol, the security guard in the corner was glaring at you enough to know that if you raised your hand, you’d lose it, not if Sehun himself didn’t get you first.

“Can I have my drink now?” His brow plucked up again, “Or will I have to tell Baekhyun to fire you on your first day?” You shook your head at him, spinning around to grab the fucking bottle of booze he wanted and a glass.

You weren’t light as you slammed the crystal onto the wooden bar counter, Sehun’s eyes following you as you poured it straight into the glass not bothering to glance at him. Sehun was intrigued, to say the least, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as you placed the bottle back onto the counter with a huff.

“That’ll be –.” You were cut off by Sehun.

“Free,” He smirked slightly, “Owner perks”

“Of course, he was the owner” You bit down on your tongue as your inner self cursed him out.

“Of course, Sir.” You gravelled out, “Will that be all?” Your eye twitched slightly while he hummed, taking a sip of his drink, glancing between the amber liquid and you.

“Leave the bottle,” He requested with a look, your head nodding before you sighed – spotting some patrons making their way to the bar.

You didn’t spare him a second glance, as you went back to work; the feeling of his eyes following you sent a small chill down your spine but you tried to shake it off, a small smile gracing your lips as you tended to other paying customers. It was strange, having him right there when he’d told of so many threats to your life every time you saw him, it was even stranger than you were now working in a club that was affiliated to him – a small calling that Chanyeol could have warned you echoing on your head, but why exactly were you here? Sehun made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you so why hire you at a club he owned.

There was a thick emotion coating your throat as you tried to focus on serving customers, all while the man that shook you to your core sat on the other end of the bar – checking his watch every so often that it had you on edge; Baekhyun had yet to see you again after you stole his drink for him, leaving you here with a bunch of rich twenty-somethings and a syndicate boss. You were leaning against the back of the bar, the music thumping slightly in your brain as you watched the intoxicated customers dance and laugh with their friends – something you haven’t done in a while, you noted to yourself.

The night had only really just begun and you were already ready to go home, your body still emotionally tired beyond belief and your wits at their end at the idiocy that was this bar; you were hired here for a reason and that was fraying your nerves, you didn’t believe for one second that you were hired here out of kindness, the men you had seen behind this all didn’t look like someone that extended their kindness beyond their gang.

“Let’s just say, Junmyeon likes to keep all his cards together,” Chanyeol’s lips pursed together in a look you couldn’t place, it was vague, but you nodded anyway.

Chanyeol.

You remembered his face as he handed you the job description letter, he looked put off giving you it, but you couldn’t argue and seemingly neither could he.

“Think any harder and you’re going to hurt yourself,” The voice from the corner drawled lazily again, glass raised to his mouth and an amused look in his eye while your own eyes flicked to him.

“Shut up,” You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter over your chest in a glare, “Don’t you have lives to be ruining?” Sehun hummed at that.

“Is that what you think I do?” His eyes danced with mirth.

“Monsters prey in the dark, but here you are” You rolled your eyes, “Which means that you’re up to something.” Sehun’s eyes narrowed slightly at your wording, his lips pursing together slightly.

“I’m here on business if you must know.” Sehun scoffed, “Not that it matters to you, bartender.” His jaw was set slightly, and you flinched at the fact you’d put him in a mood.

“Business,” You sneered slightly, “Gonna shoot up this place too?” Sehun rolled his eyes.

“I think you’d know if I was, darling,” He jeered back at you, “I might not be as nice to tell you to get under the bar next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time?” You bantered back to him, disregarding the fact your heart was hammering in your chest at the dark look in his eyes.

Setting your jaw, you walked back over to him with a pointed look; the cloth that was in your hand was tossed on the counter as you leaned.

“Tell me,” You asked honestly, “Why am I here?” His eyes met your own, no emotion being given away behind them.

“Because you work here,” He deadpanned like it was the simplest thing in the world, and that made your jaw tick.

“Chanyeol told me that Junmyeon likes to keep all his cards together,” You gritted slightly, “What does that mean.” Sehun mouth ticked slightly in a sneer.

“Why don’t you ask your buddy?” His eyebrows were raised.

“I’m asking you.” You swallowed thickly, “Now answer me.”

“And what makes you think that you’re in a position to tell me what to do?” Sehun tested you.

“Sehun,” You said his actual name to him for the first time, a tone of stress coating the words like honey, “Please.” Your eyes softened slightly.

Sehun looked conflicted for a second, his eyes skittering around your face trying to look for anything that told him you had other intentions; there was a beat of silence between the two of you before he sighed annoyed. You watched him toss his drink back before he reached into his inner suit pocket to retrieve his phone, a look passing his face as he did; it was just as quickly pocketed as it was taken out while his eyes flicked to you, an unresolved emotion waving in them.

“Stick around after the bar closes,” He grumbled out, standing up from his stool, “I’ll answer your questions then.”

“But…” You began, your mouth slightly open in protest when he cut you off.

“No buts.” He snapped lightly, “I’ll answer your questions then or not at all.” His eyes were angry, but you could tell it wasn’t at you.

“Fine…” You deflated slightly, shoulder slumping slightly as you watched him turn on his heel.

Curiously, you looked at his back as he retreated from the bar without a second glance at you, looking as he passed his security guard to walk over to one of the private rooms on the VIP area that you had been told was used for business meetings, he stopped slightly before the door, look off to the side and our brows furrowed slightly at the person that walked up to him.

“It’s the girl from the house…” You mumbled to yourself slightly, watching as she strutted up to the man; her head very much held high.

She looked gorgeous, made up in a dress that seemed to almost glitter in the light; she practically glowed under the strobe lights of the VIP room, she was a beautiful woman – and when you had seen her last you could tell she suited Sehun a lot, the two of them had an aura about them that matched. You didn’t mean to stop and stare at them, but as the girl entered the room before Sehun you caught the latter turning around to give you a pointed look; a sheen of embarrassment coating your cheeks at his stare.

“So this was his business huh…”

It wasn’t long before Irene was making her way up to the VIP room, a soft smile gracing her face at the sight of you working like you belonged at Electric Kiss; she had been sceptical at first since there was already a tightknit of people that worked here, not just anyone was hired, but when Baekhyun approached her and told her, she knew she’d try to be as welcoming as possible. But the devil in her ear currently was stopping her from greeting you like how was wanted too. 

“Is Sehun anywhere around?” She rolled her eyes as she heard Baekhyun through her earpiece, something she used in case of emergency and she needed to get security quickly.

“We have security cameras, Baek,” She grumbled slightly, making sure no one in VIP heard her talking to herself, “Check those, I’m busy.” She smiled at a customer who walked past her. 

“But you’re my informant on the ground,” Baekhyun teased softly, treating it like he did when he was probably on missions. 

“Baekhyun,” She warned with a look, even though he couldn’t see her. 

“I would be he’s not down the stairs,” Irene could hear the roll of his eyes, “There’s a reason he hangs around up there.”

“It was your choice not to put camera’s up here,” She sniped slightly, “But for your information, his guard is still up here.” She confirmed to him, watching the man she only knew as Johnny walking around. 

“And the He in question?” Baekhyun pressed a bit, much to her annoyance. 

“I don’t know, probably one of the private rooms.” She tutted, gazing around the room looking for the infamous boss – Irene had only met him a few times through Baekhyun, but he’d never really said much to her. “Have one of your men check it.”

“He’s been a foul mood the last few days, lovely,” Baekhyun huffed, “I don’t fancy facing any wrath.” 

“Chicken.” She teased with a smirk.

“Am not.” He snapped, but there was a playful edge to it. 

Irene hummed softly, her eyes flickering around the room at everyone that filled the VIP section; she could spot the security guards a mile away, they stuck out like a sore thumb but none of the socialites that gathered up here bothered, if anything they ate it up when anyone from Exodus visited, they were Royalty here after all. Irene’s eyes did widen slightly as she caught sight of the very man, she was looking for storming out of a private room; a glance at a familiar woman sitting at the table before the door slammed shut. Sehun looked mad, and she could see him storming down the staircase that leads to Baekhyun’s office. 

“Uh Baekhyun,” Irene chirped quickly, “Problem.”

“What?” Baekhyun quickly responded, “What is it.”

“Found Sehun, and he’s very mad.” She shuffled quickly of the way of one of the security guards who was rushing past her. “And currently on his way to you.”

She could hear the slam of a door from the audio of the earpiece, Baekhyun yelping slightly in freight, herself jumping at the sound of it pathetically. She tried to listen in for a second but before she could hear anything the call cut – one last word passing from Baekhyun before it dropped.

“Oh shit.”

Truthfully, your first at Electric Kiss had been an eventful one, and eventful couldn’t even fully sum it up. Working at the bar of the VIP section truly showed you a life that’d you’d never know, rich kids were willing to throw their money at anyone that served them drinks and you heard all kinds of gossip through the night that you honestly had no business in knowing; Joohyun was right when she said you get tipped well up here, and it wasn’t just in case. You had seen your manager briefly before you took a small break earlier, she looked a bit frazzled but she kept her composure as she questioned you on how your first night was going here, she’d been nothing but kind to you since you started, so you felt a sense of connection when you did manage to talk to her again.

Aside from that, you never saw anyone again for the remainder of the shift – Sehun never graced your presence again and Baekhyun was MIA, it was truly just you and the customers up here, and it was strangely nice. However, what Sehun had said to you was still echoing in your mind as you slowly shuffled to get your things from the breakroom.

“Stick around after the bar closes,” He grumbled out, standing up from his stool, “I’ll answer your questions then.”

It was 3:30am now and the bar was closing early for the night since it was the middle of the week; Irene had been gracious enough to let you go straight home since you’d turned up early for training while herself, Joy, and a girl you’d not met yet cashed out for the night. They gave you soft smiles as you left but your eyes were scanned around the bar.

“He never said where to meet him…” You thought to yourself, “Or maybe it was just a ploy to get you to shut up.” That was probably more likely.

The annoyance was radiating off you slightly when you decided to leave the warmth of the bar and step into the biting cold of the street; the sounds of customers that still littered the place echoing into the frosty air, there wasn’t anyone around, something you noted as you stood on the sideway next to the club – taking in the scene of it all.

Electric Kiss was on a very nice side of town, surrounded by affluent shops and restaurants for the rich, and apartment buildings for the even richer; it wasn’t your usual side of town, the elevators probably worked in the buildings here. It was always a fantasy to think about what it would be like to own a home here, to see the city in its full glory every day and not have to worry about making rent.

“Must be nice…” You commented softly into the air, looking up at one of the bigger apartment complex buildings; the skyscraper-sized tower glittering with thousands of little lights in the early morning.

Winter had its grasp around everything you looked at, the faint sight of steam covering windows while the pavement froze over with a shimmering frost; it was truly beautiful but the beauty was interrupted by the sound of a car engine so much so you rolled your eyes. Thought you thought of it as just a passing car you jumped back slightly from the edge of the sidewalk when a sleek black car pulled up in front of you, the passenger window rolling down so you could peak in. Leaning down slightly, you almost choked at who was driving the car.

“Get in,” Sehun grumbled out, one hand on the wheel while the other used a finger to prop his head up while he leaned on his door, he looked a bit annoyed.

“Why?” You stuttered slightly, confused at what was going on, but he only rolled his eyes before he looked at you.

“You wanted to talk, so we talk,” He sassed you slightly, “I said get in.” He nodded to the door.

You were gaping at him slightly, so much so that you forgot to answer him straight away – his handsome features pulling a face before he shook his head.

“I don’t have time for this shit,” He grumbled, reaching over the dash to creep the window back up – he stopped slightly when you jumped, placing your hand on the closing window to stop it.

“Wait.” You yelped softly, “Just wait.” You huffed before looking around at the empty street, shaking your head you grasped the door handle to the car, pulling it open with a bit of effort before you sat down in Sehun’s passenger seat.

His car was warm and smelled vaguely like cigarettes, not that you minded, but the focus was the man who was driving; the fact that his eyebrows were pulled together in a frown as he looked again.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked softly, keeping your eyes on him; his own flicking to you slightly before he put the car in drive.

“Home.” He grumbled slightly like it was paining him, “Put your seat belt on.” You rolled your eyes at that.

“You’re one to talk,” You sniped slightly, doing what you were told anyway, “Haven’t you been drinking?” He rolled his eyes.

“One drink,” He scoffed, “I’m a busy man, I can’t exactly afford to drink on the job.” You shook your head at him, watching at the night started to pass by you from his tinted window.

“You had questions,” He sighed, “Ask them.” Your eyes flickered back to him slightly while he drove; like everything he did, it was attractive.

“What did Junmyeon mean…” You sighed slightly, settling into the leather of his car seat; it was all black interior, but it didn’t feel cold because of it.

“About the cards?” Sehun hummed while you nodded.

“It would seem, miss bartender…” He began with a sigh as he stopped at a stoplight, “That we have use for you yet.” You frown at that.

“What?” You hesitated slightly, “What do you mean by that?” His face pinched slightly as he turned to you, tiredness settling in his eyes.

“For once, you know a lot more than we do,” He started, glancing at you before his eyes settled back on the road and the driving started again, “That man that was showing up at Oasis, we need to find him and currently you’re the only one in existence right now that knows what he looks like.” Sehun didn’t look proud to admit that.

“Me?” You frowned, “Surely someone else does?” Sehun hummed.

“You’d think,” He started, “The only person that might, won’t tell me, and we can’t find anything on him anywhere.”

“Oasis wasn’t the only joint of mine’s he was… looking into,” Sehun frown, hand gripping the wheel a bit tighter, you listened to eagerly as he spoke, “A few days ago, a few weapons from my stock went missing – the same man that was stealing stock at Oasis was behind it.” You frowned softly as he continued.

“He��s been redistributing the stolen and tampered drug stock at clubs around the city; his latest was Teardrop,” His eyes flicked to yours.

“I’ve been there once or twice, yeah…” You said softly.

“No security cameras could catch him and no one in the crowd could point him out,” Sehun shook his head, annoyed.

“But how does this involve me,” You frowned. “If he’s bold enough to walk into my establishment once, he’ll do it again.” Sehun spoke simply, “We think he’s going to turn up at Electric Kiss, he’s been in clubs in the surrounding areas.”

“And you need me to spot him out?” You asked, clocking your head to the side, “How do you know he won’t just hide from me? After all, he knows what I look like”

“He seems like he loves a thrill,” Sehun glowered slightly, reaching into his glove compartment to retrieve a small box; cigarettes.

You watched in some weird fascination as his free hand managed to get on out of the box and lifted it to his lips, before he quickly grabbed the lighter that was sitting in his pocket and lit it, the waft of expensive cigarettes filling the car before his window was left slightly ajar, so it could filter out. His tongue running over his teeth as he took a draw had you turning away slightly, a blooming of red covering your cheeks at the simple movement.

“Why didn’t you just ask me to help you,” You asked softly.

“Would you have?” He quizzed slightly, ashing his cigarette out the window.

“Maybe…” You stuttered softly as he chuckled.

“It was easier to trick you than to ask you,” He said simply with a slight shrug.

“What about back at the warehouse…” You swallowed thickly, “You didn’t kill me, why?”

“Because I didn’t have to.” He sighed, “Believe it or not, I don’t like shedding unnecessary blood, plus I had my own plan that I had to see come to fruition.”

“I timed everything for a reason,” He continued, “I knew as soon as I put the bag on your head, I only had a few minutes before the police showed up – I knew you weren’t going to die.”

“But the police…” You started before he cut you off.

“To some degree were in on it,” Sehun hummed, “Some of the higher-ups were sniffing around your case, it got worse when our name got tagged to it, I needed you gone quickly and your boss in my possession before someone started sniffing around my business.” He told you honestly.

“I couldn’t just let you go,” He told you, “We all knew the police would find that far too suspicious and you’d be tied to all this, it was easier to stage something”

“But during the interrogation, the officer was saying all this stuff.” You shook your head while he smirked softly, eyes glancing at you.

“I knew you’d crack under pressure, that’s why I had the commissioner interrogate you and lead the thing along,” He chuckled, “It was also a test.”

“A test of what…” You mumbled.

“A test to see if you’d heeded my warning,” He glanced at you again, capturing your eyes with his own, “I wasn’t kidding about the bullet between your eyes.” He smirked darkly.

“I hate you…” You mumbled softly looking out the window, “Like a lot.”

“I’m not too keen on you either, sweetheart,” He hummed, looking at the road with nothing but boredom.

“So, I keep an eye out for your mystery guy, then what?” You grumbled, biting your lip softly as you watched him flick his finished cigarette out the window. “I get fired?”

“If we find him then whatever you want,” He shrugged, “Work at Electric Kiss or leave, I don’t really care, just as long as you keep your mouth shut.” He tapped softly on the leather of his steering wheel.

“Right,” You rolled your eyes, “Charmer aren’t you.” He smirked softly at that.

“You mean you don’t love our talks,” He quizzed with humour behind it, “Or are you upset that I’m not Chanyeol right now?”

“You’ve threatened me every time I’ve talked to you so no, I don’t like our talks,” You huffed, “And I’m not happy with Chanyeol either, he lied to me as well.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll survive,” He mumbled as he pulled into the street that held your apartment block, not commenting further on it.

“I’m sure I will…” You muttered back.

The car dropped into silence as he pulled into the parking lot that sat outside the back of your building, his fancy car probably looking entirely out of place in the shithole that you lived in – for some reason you almost felt embarrassed as he gazed up at your building.

“Not all of us can live in luxury,” You said quickly before he could get a snippy remark in, but you were left a bit confused when he frowned softly.

“You work for where you live, that’s respectable enough,” He muttered, “And luxury isn’t worth what you think it is.” He had a faraway look in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

“I don’t know, you live a pretty comfortable life,” You commented slightly, and it was true – the man probably had more money than you’d ever own or work for.

“Something like that,” He muttered, deciding not to comment any further on your claim. The brief silence you both went into was enough to make you want to crawl out your skin, but you held your composure as you sighed softly.

“Thank you, Sehun…” You said lowly, you hated feeling like you owed someone something and the idea of thanking him after everything he’d done to you left a bad taste in your mouth, but you did it anyway, “For answering my questions and driving me home.”

“Think of it as payment,” He remarked slightly while turning to you, “For almost suffocating you to death,” You chuckled at that.

“It’s going to take more than that to make up for it,” You smiled slightly, locking eyes with him.

He was doing the thing again, where he was trying to work you out from merely just looking at you; his almost black eyes flicking around your face to try and find out your intentions, it was almost flattering but it was also uncomfortable. While you enjoyed looking at his face, you’d rather someone just ask you a question than try to sus you out but knowing what you knew about this man; that wasn’t going to happen.

“I should go…” You spoke softly, “Its late.” Whatever he was into, he snapped out of it while he turned around humming in agreement with you.

“You should,” He nodded keeping his eyes forward.

You looked at him softly, taking in his ridged side profile before you smiled a bit, nodding slightly while you pushed his car door open.

“Goodnight Sehun…” You spoke softly, glancing back into the car as you stood up, you didn’t bother to listen to his reply but you caught it anyway as you slammed the door shut, a small smile lifting your face.

“Goodnight…”

It felt as though you had been punctured but something as you watched his car drive away from you, the feeling of your blood rushing out your veins and leaving your body with that cold feeling of hollowness all while your eyes glanced at the vehicles retreating from. It was an indescribable feeling flooding you every time you found yourself near him, but it was a feeling that all though you’d never admit; you lusted to feel again.

“I wish I could understand you…” You whispered softly, small tuffs of white curling in the space surrounding your mouth; almost like a soul leaving the body, the words falling onto no one but mother nature.

The air was biting as you stood in the small carpark that laid itself out in front of your apartment but despite the chill, you found yourself not whiling to move; you had a lot to take in, and even more to process. It had been a very long night, the timepiece on your wrist reminding you that it was in fact very early morning. It was hours to be alone, but for some reason, a chill crawled its way up your spine that wasn’t an effect of the cold; the eerie feeling of someone else being in the barren car park with you.

Glancing back at the building behind you that held your home, you blinked slowly at the idea of just running into it but foolishly your steps carried you carefully into the middle of the empty lot; borrowed heels crunching on the gravel cracking into the night as you spun slowly to observe what you could.

“Hello?” You spoke softly, looking around at any hideaway spot you could; the balconies that held all the doors and the small allies that cut into different ways to get out the building, “Is anyone there?” Sheer stupidity seemed to be a trademark for you at this point, but after the last few days; if something was going to get you, you’d rather it showed itself.

You were met with silence, the deafening silence that was known as 4:00am and nothing else; barely any light or movement, it seemed like it was just you and your thoughts. But it wouldn’t be out of style for you to jump when you felt the vibration of your phone in your pocket, the new device spurring to life in an angry notification that said you were getting a call. You didn’t even bother to check the caller id before you clicked accept but after what you were met with, you wish you had.

“Where the hell are you!?” Jeonghan snapped on the other end, as your eyes widen.

“Woah…” You began slightly shocked at his tone, “What do you mean?”

“I’m here,” He grumbled, “At Electric Kiss, I said I’d pick you up?” You blanched slightly.

“Jeonghan, I’m so sorry…” You began softly, “I’m already home,” Your eyes scattered around while you made a gentle walk back to your apartment, the familiar feeling of being watched not leaving you.

“How the hell did you get home?” He sounded shocked, and you sheepishly responded.

“A uh… Friend from work drove me,” You lied to him, a small gnaw of guilt eating at you, “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you.” You pouted softly down the phone in the hopes you’d pick up on your tone.

The sigh you heard on the other end confirmed that it worked.

“It’s alright…” He grumbled softly, “Sorry for snapping at you,” He said as you shouldered your way into your apartment, a small grunt passing your lips as you did.

“You’ve only just come home after being kidnapped,” He sighed, “I was just making sure you’d get back alright.”

“Hannie…” You said softly, honestly feeling your heart melt, “It’s okay, I’m okay…” You assured him.

“Do you want me to come over?” He asked while you walked up the stairs to your apartment, choosing to forgo the elevator, “I’m sure I can pick up some food.”

“Hannie, don’t worry about it,” You told him with a small smile, “Go home and get some rest, I’m a big girl, I can stay by myself.” He sighed at that.

“Okay,” You could hear the small smile in his voice, “Just message me tomorrow okay?” You laughed slightly at that.

“I will,” You smiled softly, “Get home safe Jeonghan,” He sighed softly.

“You too…” The call cut off after that, you were in a rush to get back home that you booked it up the last 3 flights of stairs to your floor, your chest-puffing slightly as you scurried to your door – after the car ride with Sehun, you had a lot to look into.

After practically falling into your apartment, you kicked your shoes off and made your way into your bedroom – making haste to boot up your laptop while you sorted yourself out for the rest of the morning. Electric Kiss needed you in by 7 tomorrow to work a short shift since they were working out your rota, so you had time to do what you needed, and what you needed right now was not to go to bed.

The blinking of the cursor of the search engine you were using was taunting you as your fingers hovered above the keyboard – the limps twitching to write; you were doing your own research since you couldn’t trust anyone to tell you anything anymore, so you wasted no time in typing what you needed into the search bar.

‘Oh Sehun’, You bit your lip softly as your eyes tried to take in the search page.

You weren’t sure what you expected, he wasn’t a celebrity by any means, but the cloud of news articles that littered the page was a bit overwhelming.

“New heir of Oh Industries takes over after Owners death.”

“Owner of Oh Industries, Oh Dae-suk, passes in a drive-by murder, rumours of son to take over.”

“Oh Sehun named CEO of Oh Industries after legal battle.”

The search was littered with dozens of pages about how Sehun came to be the heir of the company he fronted, something that was clearly a decoy for whatever Exodus was. But you could feel a slight tension in your shoulders as pictures of him from the past popped up; one, in particular, was a photo of a teenage Sehun at his father’s funeral, a far cry from what he looked like now.

Shaggy haired and red-eyed, Sehun looked miserable as they caught a photo of him coming out of a funeral car; flagged by a woman you could only guess was his mother, your heart bled a little as you looked at him, he was so young. Flickering down you read the passage under the photo.

Heir to the Oh family, Oh Sehun, and his mother Oh Jieun pictured stepping out for the first time in public after the death of the CEO Oh Daeksuk – flagged by family and friends the mourning family attend the wake in his honour.

You felt a bit sick reading how the family were being hounded even on such a sad day like a funeral, but you clicked out the article anyway. Another one instantly catching your interest.

Rumour: Oh Sehun tied to gang affiliation after leaked photos show millionaire CEO partying with Criminals?

Rumours broke Saturday night after Oh Sehun was pictured partying with suspected drug cartel member Jung Insik in Rouge lounge earlier in the week. The two seemed friendly on the couch of the VIP section, sharing drinks and laughing with each other, although partiers claim there was nothing suspicious going on between the pair it's suspicious that the CEO of a medical company is hanging around with a suspect in a large drugs case – Oh Industries couldn’t be reached for a statement.

You puffed air out of your mouth as you read it, already in the know to what the young CEO gets into behind closed doors – to you it was clear that Oh Industries seemed to be front for Exodus, they were rarely in the news for anything else with the last article on Sehun being nearly a year ago about his charitable donations to an organisation; it made sense that they’d hide in plain sight, no one could accumulate that much money and not be talked about in some regard.

It was interesting to read, but it told you nothing about the man in question; just that he liked to party, his father died when he was young and that the new suspected him of doing dodgy things but nothing had been given as solid evidence to confirm any rumours. Sehun and his gang were truly an enigma, not even a mention of any of the other members anywhere associated with his name.

It was very early in the morning at this point, but you had no intention of stopping anytime soon; you were going to find out whatever you could about this man, even if it meant a sleepless night.

“Who are you, Oh Sehun…”

The next day, for the first time in forever, felt completely and utterly normal; you woke up at noon after staying up most of the morning doing research and you could leisurely get ready for work after eating a huge breakfast since you declined to eat anything last night. It was nice to not have anyone hounding you or jumping you for once, it was that peaceful that when you did eventually turn up for your shift it flew past in a breeze. Neither women from the night before were working with you today but you were introduced to both Seulgi and Yeri, both of whom welcomed you with open arms when you came through the door. It was nice, and it was a peaceful day at work, or as peaceful as it could be working in a bar, but you enjoyed it none the less; it was a lot less stressful than what Oasis had been.

What you didn’t prepare for was what was waiting for you at home.

You had got home just after midnight after sharing a cab with Seulgi who lived near the complex that you lived in, the street was as always quiet as it normally was at night and honestly, you felt like nothing could go wrong when you go into your apartment, but that hope was shattered after 15 minutes after getting home; 3 weak knocks sounding at your door.

“What the…” You spoke softly to yourself, barely getting a chance to settle into your couch before you were called up again.

Freaked out and slightly scared, you grabbed you keys as a form of defence while you slowly opened the door but they were dropped in an instant when your eyes caught sight of what was on the other side.

Chanyeol, hunched over and holding his side with one hand while the other kept him steady on your door frame, the strong stench of metallic filling your nose as you watched his stained hands slip slightly on the wood of your door.

“Chanyeol,” You yelped rushing to catch the 6 foot something man that started to tip over, “What the hell happened to you?” You stressed trying to tug him instead, your nose curling at the smell of blood.

“Ran into slight difficulties on the job,” He wheezed slightly, tripping up while trying to walk with you; flinching as you slammed the door behind him.

“Difficulties?” You snapped a bit scared; your eyes were wide as you tried to get a look at him.

It was clear that he’d been stabbed in the side, the way he was clutching the area was a dead giveaway; along with the blood that stained his fingers. He looked ashen and pale while he tried to look at you; a cold sweat clouding over his skin, something you could feel as you tried to hold him up.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” You demanded, dragging him to your small bathroom; his body wincing softly at the bright light that emitted from the room.

“Can’t,” He wheezed again as you managed to get him to sit on your counter, your small hands pushing him back completely so the wall could support him, “They ask too many questions.” He winced again at your pushing.

“And you think I can handle this?” You gestured wildly to his wound, in this light you could see he had a few bruises and cuts on his face, “How did this happen?” You demanded softly, raiding one of your bathroom drawers for the first aid kit.

“Baekhyun and I were on a job not too far from here,” Chanyeol could slightly, groaning while he pulled his shirt over his head knowing he had to, “We were following a tip-off that was given to us, but we were jumped.” You jumped slightly at his bare torso but puffed out air to try and compose yourself, the man was possibly dying on your counter.

“Where’s Baekhyun now?” You stressed slightly, wetting a rag to try and clot his wound.

There was a massive gash on the lower right side of his stomach, it looked deep, and he groaned loudly as you pressed down on it, your own mouth shushing in slightly as you did.

“I don’t know,” His face was screwed up in pain, “We got separated.”

“Right,” You swallowed thickly, “Chanyeol, I don’t know what you want me to do about this, I’m not a nurse…” He looked down at you with a sad smile, something flickering in his eyes, he was extremely pale right now, almost deathly.

“Just try and stop the bleeding,” He rasped out, unaware that his hand was clutching the sleeve of your shirt, “Do you have a needle?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how to stitch a wound,” You panicked out, watching his eyes flutter shut softly, “It’s like sewing a shirt…” He sounded a bit far away now like he was having a conversation, but it wasn’t with you.

“Chanyeol,” You shook him softly, “You have to stay awake.” He was slumping slightly, the blood lost evident on his face.

Taking your free hand, you slapped him softly on the cheek trying to coax him into staying up, “Chanyeol, please…”

“Hmm…” He hummed softly trying to move his face away from the slap, “Please just hurry…” He gargled softly while you started to panic.

“Chanyeol.” You snapped slightly, hitting him a bit harder but it wasn’t working.

You gruntled when he suddenly slumped forward, his head banging onto your shoulder with a hard thump as you winced; the feeling of his hand letting go of your sleeving extremely worrying.

“Chanyeol…” You could feel his soft breaths on the exposed skin of your neck before your eyes widened something spilling out his lips that’s clearly wasn’t directed at you.

“Don’t worry Yoora, I’ll be okay…”

[burnedbyshoto]

Hello! Since your askbox is open, is it alright that ask for a request? If so, can you please write a scenario detailing the birth of Todoroki and his s/o’s first child? Maybe he is out on patrol when he hears that his s/o is about to give birth and has his friends rush him there? I’ve been having a bad week, so please inject me with fluff and good feels. Thank you!

anon, love, I hope this helps you feel better! I’m sorry I wasn’t able to upload this the day you submitted. I know I don’t know you, or you know me, but if you want to talk about this bad week please feel free to dm me!!! sending my love

todoroki shouto x first time pregnant!reader

warning: pure fluff!!!

Part Two  Part Three  Part Four

Pregnancy can be a beautiful thing, and in this case, it typically was.

The day you had found out you were pregnant you could not stop crying, immediately calling Shouto, your loving husband of two years, to bear the good news. While giving you an initial scare by immediately hanging up on you when spilling the news, you were relieved to find him next to you in five minutes with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and misty eyes.

You could still remember holding him tightly as you two hugged as tears fell down your face as you whispered to Shouto that it was real and that he was going to make an amazing parent.

That was exactly thirty-nine weeks ago, and now being an entire week overdue with the same raging pregancy hormones, you wanted this baby out of you!

You were a Pro-Hero before this baby, and you planned on staying a Pro-Hero once the sucker was born. Through a lot of pressure from family, friends, and mostly Shouto, you had agreed to spend the your pregnancy with your alumni U.A. and teach Hero Basics even though you would not be participating in any actual lessons as soon as you couldn’t see your toes anymore.

So there you sat at home, your swollen feet elevated on pillows as a heated blanket lay over your simultaneous cold and hot body, dumb hormones were making you crazy. You were overdue, and you were ready to quite literally kick this baby out of you. Were you excited to be a mother, definitely, but this child seemed to be tap dancing on your bladder like it was life or death.

“Relax, tenshi,” You whispered to your baby, rubbing your swollen belly as you grimaced as a terrible heat flash went throughout your body, “Are you seriously craving donuts right now? We just had an early dinner!” You gasped as images of the sugary sweet dessert flashed through your mind making your mouth water.

“Okay, you convinced me!” You laugh, it took you a while, but soon you managed to squirm off the couch and onto your feet only after two minutes. “That’s a new record, I should tell Shouto…”

How you used to be an S-Rank Pro-Hero you had no idea because now you couldn’t even put on shoes without assistance. “Mama is gonna cry when she has to get back into shape. You made me so fat!” You coo softly to yourself as you waddled over to your purse and grabbed it.

Checking yourself in the mirror, you groaned. Your face was so round that it officially beat Uraraka’s for roundest face in the old class 1-A. You wore a maxi sundress even though it was still February because nothing else fits! Well, sweaty old XXL shirts did but it just was not acceptable in public! Slipping on your sandals, you yelled goodbye to no one in the house and waddled out to buy some donuts.

You eventually made it to the donut shop with drool just about coming down your mouth as you entered the store.

“Ah, Todoroki-sama, I was wondering if you were going to be coming in at all today!” The owner greeted you with a bow as you laughed easily.

“My little Tenshi got his little donut cravings really late tonight, Takashima-sama you wound me, your best customer would never disappoint!” You teased back, your face contorted into a grimace as you clutched your swollen belly, waddling closer to the counter with your wallet ready.

“This one is on the house,” The store owner Takashima said, sliding over a box of half a dozen maple bars.

You teared up, accepting the box while sobbing, and left a generous tip as you went to sit down. Calming down slowly, you groaned as you placed the box down and froze.

Why was your leg wet?

You looked down, hands waving with heightened anxiety and shrieked, “ TAKASHIMA-SAMA, MY WATER BROKE!”

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Twenty minutes away via car stood Todoroki Shouto walking down the crowded streets of Tokyo with Midoriya and Iida. The three of them had finished working together for a promo radio interview and were now patrolling near their agencies.

“You know, I’ve really come to miss y/l/n-chan walking around with us,” Iida confessed as he waved to a young fan who was pointing him out to his mother.

“It’s Todoroki, Iida-kun,” Midoriya reminds Iida for the millionth time, but knows that no amount of reminding will ever get Iida to not call you by your maiden name.

“Y/n will be back soon after of course, she feels ready to return to the field,” Shouto says silently agreeing with the fact that he missed having his wife with him while working, it had to be the worst thing about you getting pregnant by far. 

“Is she not overdue for the baby, as well? Don’t most pregnancies last only thirty-eight weeks?” Iida questioned as they stopped to take pictures with an obvious American fan.

“Y/n’s ob-gyn doctor said we shouldn’t worry, but that if by the end of the week if y/n hasn’t given birth naturally, she’ll need a c-section,” Shouto explained as he pulled out his phone feeling it buzzing. He saw your contact picture, a celebratory picture of you after finishing a rather intense hiking trail during your honeymoon. “It’s y/n.”

The two of them nod their head as they watched Shouto pick the phone to his ear as he turned around to give himself some privacy. Shouto spoke once, nodded three times and hung up after giving his love.

“Well, y/n is in labor, and I need to get going,” Shouto says eerily calm, his arms stiff by his side, and Midoriya just about jumps out of his skin.

“SHE’S IN LABOR?! OH MY GOD, I’M NOT READY!!”

“Do not panic, Midoriya-kun, it is Todoroki who is going to be the father, not you.” Iida reminds Midoriya who is looking in every direction trying to figure out a game plan for getting to the hospital.

“I KNOW THAT! BUT I–” Midoriya stops and looks over at Shouto who is visibly panicking. “Todoroki-kun, are you okay?”

“There are no more trains back to Musutafu until 21:00,” Todoroki says carefully and to their horror, it’s only 18:30. “Even if we take a car, we could be late.”

“No!” Iida and Midoriya yell.

“I’ll get you there on time!” Midoriya affirms turning his back to Shouto. “Get on!”

With a crackle of lighting, and the shout of “RECIPRO BURST” the three Pro-Heroes were gone without a trace.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

“It hurts!” You scream in pain as contraction after contraction plummets through you, obviously, your baby had no care in the world that 1. mama was in a hell lot of pain and 2. papa wasn’t here yet so you weren’t going to let him leave your womb.

“Todoroki-sama, you need to push! You’re going to get yourself or the baby hurt!” Your doctor yells obviously worried as you clenched your legs tightly together.

“I’m not having this baby without S-Shoucchan here!” You cry as the pain is quickly becoming unbearable.

“Y/n, I’m here!” A very frazzled looking Shouto walks through the delivery room, his body clothed in medical scrubs his face showing his fear and love. You giggle a bit like a lunatic seeing a few leaves stuck in his hair finding it amusing despite the pain.

“Midoriya and Iida brought y-yOU!?” You screamed again as your body is now fighting you on letting your baby come out.

You look up and see Shouto now at your bedside, his hand clutching yours as the doctor commands a few nurses to get things ready. “I was scared I was going to miss this…” Shouto admits as you clench his hand in yours as another painful contraction sears your body.

“You’re not missing anything!” You can’t help but snap as you throw your head back, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. “Get this baby oUT OF ME!” You shriek at the doctor who has now positioned your legs for delivery.

“Alright, Todoroki-sama, I need you to push for ten seconds, okay?”

“OKAY!!”

And Shouto watched as his wife only tightened her death grip on his hands, curses leaving her lips left and right as she pushed with all her might. He stared over at the doctor who he knew was screaming at his stubborn wife to follow his commands, but he could hear nothing besides the roar of his heartbeat in his ears.

Shouto can’t stop himself from leaning over and pressing a kiss on your sweating forehead as you scream louder to get the baby out of you. Then, Shouto can hear a soft cry. His eyes widen as he watches the pink, white, and bloody baby being held by the doctor and all he can hear is the baby’s cries and the exhausted pants from you.

He looks down to find you slumping in the bed, your hair a complete mess, sweat drenching your body, and tears falling down your face.

“Shoucchan,” You murmur, and immediately Shouto is attending to you, wiping off the sweat, fluffing your pillow and kissing you a million times as both your shaking hands hold each other. “Baby, you’re crying.” You inform him with a weak but incredibly affectionate smile.

Shouto wipes away the tears that fall down his face, only to find himself crying, even more. The nurse eventually brings your guys’ small baby boy over to the two of you and gently handed him to you, and you cradle your baby close to your body. “Hi Kaito,” You coo at the baby who was now soundlessly sleeping on your chest, “I’m your mama, and I just want you to know that even though you were a pain in my ass, I love you so much…” 

Shouto snorts as you look up at him and smile, and he comes down to press another kiss on your lips. “Come here, Shoucchan,” You say handing your son over to him, and watched as your husband froze. You waited a moment and then grinned as Shouto reached for baby Kaito and you easily handed him over. You watched with tears in your eyes as Shouto gently bounced with Kaito in his arms, whispering about how much he was going to love him, and how he was going to make Kaito proud to be his son.

“I promise, Kaito, I will never ever let you or your beautiful mama get hurt, and I promise you no matter what happens, I will love you forever and always.”

this made me really soft and kinda was like “maybe pregnancy isn’t that bad???” anywho, hope you enjoyed and have a good rest of your day!!!!!

bonus!

The entire old Class 1-A shuffled through the hallways of the hospital, each claiming to see a different patient so that they could all visit your room.

“Okay, just in case you bozo’s don’t know how to behave around babies, do not scream when we walk in. They are shits to be put to bed, and if you wake up y/n-chan’s sleeping baby, I will end you!” Mina threatens as she eyes down the… louder members of the class. “Second of all, it’s a baby, so don’t talk to it expecting answers, and most importantly, do not. I repeat, do NOT, throw the baby around like it’s some game!”

She gave an obviously pointed glare at Kaminari.

“I’m so excited!” Momo squeals right before they open the door, and with numerous amounts of presents and balloons on hand, nineteen Pro-Heroes entered the room and froze. The sight in front of them making them speechless. Shouto was laying on the bed with you, his arm behind you giving you comfort, and the baby laying on your chest asleep. For the matter at hand, all three of you were asleep without a care in the world.

Some members of the party had to bite down on their hands to keep them from screaming.

Later that night when Shouto woke up for a few minutes and checked his phone for any messages, he then saw a picture of the three of them asleep on the hospital bed on the group chat, with a caption:

‘What a beautiful family, can’t wait for more pictures! Welcome to the family Todoroki Kaito! We love you!’

[geeeooorrrge]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Formula 1 RPF Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen Characters: Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly, Alexander Albon, Lando Norris, Daniel Ricciardo, Sebastian Vettel Additional Tags: Organized Crime, Alternate Universe - Criminals, not your ordinary crime au, cyberpunk vibes, Escape, Angst with a Happy Ending

----------

hi everyone, am reposting this because i had itchy fingers and decided to write a vvv short followup to this fic below the cut ↓ if you guys do get to it i hope you’ll like it! askbox is always open :) ♥

Leonardo pulled him into the apartment by the hand and let the door shut behind him. One of his arms curled tightly around Elio’s waist, holding him close as the fingers of his other hand danced gently over Elio’s face. 

He looked so stunning, and Elio missed him so much, and his heart was bursting with so much joy that he didn’t know what to do with it, so much joy that Elio finally started to cry. 

Leonardo chuckled as Elio’s hand traced his brow in return, his own tears spilling down his cheeks. His skin was so soft under Elio’s touch. His laugh was so gentle. More tears rolled over his cheekbones even as Elio swept them away.

“I love you,” Elio said.

Leonardo was smiling again as he cupped the side of Elio’s neck, his dimples showing. “Still?” he asked.

“Always,” Elio whispered.

Leonardo leaned closer, slowly, until his lips were pressed on Elio’s and gently working on them as Elio desperately grasped the back of his t-shirt. He smelled – he smelled different, but at the same time so familiar, he smelled like trains and cooking grease and dish detergent and the summer, and kissing him felt like coming home after a year stranded in the wilderness.

“I love you more,” he breathed, and God. Elio missed his voice so much. “I’ve thought about you every day. Every single day. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“Me, neither,” Elio pulled away to press his forehead against Leonardo’s. “Max, I – Leo. I love you so much. I’ve missed you so much. It hurts. It hurts so much.”

“Shhh, okay,” Leonardo whispered. “I’m here. We’re here now. We have us. Okay? We’ll always have us.”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Elio sobbed. “And it was the worst thing. It was the worst.”

“I know. I lived through that, too. I know everything.”

“I love you.”

Leonardo’s laugh was softer this time, more tender. “Already?” he asked. “You’ve only just met me.”

Elio couldn’t help but laugh then, the feeling so thick in his chest, so intimate, as if Leonardo was squeezing his heart with his own two hands. “Thank you for keeping me.”

“Charl – Elio. I was never free without you. I know I got away, but...without you, it meant nothing. I never felt free because you were never by my side.”

Elio pulled away for good, holding Leonardo by the shoulders. His eyes were shimmering with tears, shimmering blue in the dim lighting like two aquamarine crystals, and the sight of it just made Elio shiver with all the love he failed to contain.

“We’ll be together now?” he asked in a whisper. “We’ll be free together.”

Leonardo nodded. “It was always meant to be like this. It was always meant to be me and you. Only me and you. We’re meant to be together.”

Elio remembered – he remembered saying that, and the fact that Leonardo remembered it – 

Elio kissed him again, this time fuelled by a sudden hunger. He pressed his body up against Leonardo, smiling when he felt Leonardo’s hands wander south. 

They were a bundle of half-undone clothes and intertwined limbs by the time they got into the bedroom. The sheets murmured softly in protest under Elio as he was flung down on them, and suddenly they were all wet lips and starving hands, the friction of their bodies so familiar and so welcoming. 

Leonardo’s grasp was still soft, his wandering palms still gentle, as if it was their first time all over again, but the way he knew each part of Elio's body, the way his lips and his tongue moved, it was like they'd already known each other for years. His golden hair felt rougher under Elio's fingers than it looked. The kisses he planted on Elio’s neck, on his face, on his abdomen – they made Elio crave for more, they made him move his body in ways he’d forgotten how to move, just to get more of them. The way he gasped as they rocked against each other made Elio do the same, suddenly so breathless as he looked directly into those blue eyes that he loved more than anything. And the sounds he made, every little grunt, every murmur – all of it felt like coming home, all of it felt like the familiar sounds of home.

Elio sunk into the pillow as Leonardo collapsed on him, breathing loudly into Leonardo’s neck. He sucked on Leonardo’s earlobe as he shuddered, then planted even more wet kisses along Elio’s jaw. 

“I love you,” Leonardo whispered. “Elio. My love.”

“I love you, too.” Elio kissed him on his sweaty forehead. “So much. More than you’ll know.”

They lay across from each other, smiling softly. Elio just. He just wanted to live in that moment forever, he wanted to live in the cool lighting of the room, the warmth of the rosy curtains, the dim illumination from the streetlights below, and the softness of the eyes looking over lovingly at him. In the gentle grasp of his Leonardo. He wanted to live in it forever.

“Tell me how you’ve been.” Elio kept his voice as soft as possible, afraid to burst their bubble.

“I lived in a few places. I – back home...back in the US,” Leonardo quickly corrected himself. “I had to move around in a few cities before I managed to get enough money to come to Europe. I got here in February. I lived in Spain for a bit, in Madrid, then in Paris for a month. Places where it's easy to be invisible. I’ve only been in Rome a couple of months.”

His voice was like the most soothing music. Elio wished he would never stop talking. 

“Do you still…”

“Steal things?” There was a wry smile on Leonardo’s face. “No. I’ve been working. Just...little things. In a bookstore, or at restaurants or bars. Just enough to get by.”

“It must’ve been lonely,” Elio whispered. He remembered Leonardo telling him that he had no skills besides stealing, and to deal with that alone, to roam the world alone while dealing with what he could or couldn’t be… “It must’ve been horrible.”

Leonardo’s smile faltered a little, like even the memory of the feeling was enough to break his heart. 

“I thought about you every day,” he said again, softly. “And looked at that Polaroid of you. It got me by.”

His hair was smooth but sweaty when Elio ran his fingers through it, and he keened into Elio’s grasp. “That’s what got me by, too,” Elio said. “I just...I kept wondering if you were alive.”

“I am alive. I’m right here.”

“I just –” Elio tried his hardest not to start crying again. “When you left, it was...it seemed like it was for forever. I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“Because I knew that if I made you think I’d come back to look for you, and I didn’t, or I couldn’t, then it would kill you. I couldn’t do that to you. I had to make you think it was forever. But I always knew that I would. Some way or another, I’d always go back for you.”

“I waited so long. I know you told me not to, but I waited and I waited, and I worried about you so much, and I thought you would never...never come back for me again.”

"I would. I promised you, remember? I promised you I would take you."

Elio smiled. "And I promised I would let you."

“Were you ever angry? That I left?”

Elio shook his head. “I know it was something you had to do. I could’ve helped you. You know that. I know that. We could’ve easily helped you. We had connections. But...but it was what you wanted. And I just...I didn't know what was coming, but I figured I would just wait.”

“I knew I had to give you time.” Leonardo’s voice was but a whisper. “For everything. I didn’t want to...I didn’t want it to be wrong timing again. I knew if it was, then it would absolutely shatter me. If you didn’t come, and you couldn’t tell me. It would break me into pieces. It would break the both of us.”

“It was enough time.” Elio traced Leonardo’s hairline with his index finger. “Just enough time.”

“One year? Yeah?” The smile returned to Leonardo’s face, just like how automatic it seemed whenever he met Elio’s gaze. 

“It was the worst year of my life. And I’ve...I’ve been through some shit before this. Nothing tops it.”

“Is everything...everything’s alright back there? When you left?”

Elio remembered thinking about how he’d wanted to tell Leonardo everything.

But now that he was here, now that he’d seen Leonardo again, he realised – that was all just his old life.

His old, abandoned life.

Elio was free now.

Elio and Leonardo were free now. Free from all their past mistakes. From...what Leonardo had done.

They were free from Rosehurst. Free from everything and everyone they used to know.

As much as it hurt, Elio knew that it was something they’d chosen to do. Something they had to live with from now.

They had to be Leonardo and Elio, not Max and Charles. 

“You don’t want to tell me?” Leonardo asked when Elio didn’t answer for a while.

“I don’t think I should.”

Leonardo smiled like he understood. His fingers were gentle again on Elio’s cheeks. “Okay. We won't talk about it ever again.”

“Maybe just one little thing.”

“Yeah?”

"We can't go back," Elio said, hoping Leonardo would get the point. “We can never go back. But I fixed everything. Just before I received your postcard. I fixed everything, and Dan and Lando have a family now, and your uncle will be just fine with them, and I made sure everything was good before I came here.”

Leonardo’s smile, though it faltered at the start, grew bigger and prouder. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Elio moved closer and pressed his lips on Leonardo's nose. "I'm so – I'm so, so happy."

Leonardo's eyes fluttered shut. "Elio," he whispered. "Thank you. Thank you for...for dropping everything and running. I know your life was – you had everything. And you left it all to come here. I want this, but…it was hard, feeling like if I reached out to you, it meant you had to drop everything else. And I was scared that you’d changed your mind, that you wouldn’t want me anymore. So the fact that you want it too, I...it just means so much to me."

“You’re the only thing I want from that life.”

The room was almost completely silent as they lay there, breathing softly. Leonardo looked so...peaceful when he closed his eyes. Elio had never noticed. Their lives used to be so chaotic.

“I like your new name.” Leonardo’s eyes were earnest this time when they opened again.

Elio smiled. “I like yours, too.”

“You’re my sun,” Leonardo whispered.

“And you are my brave, invincible lion.”

Leonardo gazed after him as he got up and wandered the room. He said he lived alone, so Elio went outside and looked around; the apartment was not much bigger than the one Leonardo had back at Rosehurst, but there was a bigger kitchen this time, and it looked used, as if Leonardo was cooking for himself. The bathroom was small, but enough for Elio to clean himself up and wash his face of the fatigue that came with flying eleven hours. There were some clothes hanging over a chair in the living room, and they smelled just like Leonardo, so Elio couldn't resist putting them on, smiling as he basked in the scent.

It was windy out on the balcony when Elio stepped on it. The bench had a few grey cushions on it, so Elio sat down with a sigh, his body twisted to look at the street that had been pictured on the postcard.

Leonardo stepped out a while later, fully clothed again, his footsteps hesitant against the tile of the balcony. He sat down next to Elio and wrapped his arms around Elio’s waist, his chin tucked into Elio’s shoulder to nuzzle Elio’s cheek until he turned around to kiss him. 

And part of Elio had been so scared, he had been so terrified that he would land in Rome and Leonardo would be a completely different person, but now. Now he was here, and nothing had changed. Nothing. Leonardo hadn't changed one bit. He was still fun-loving, and caring, and gentle, and he still loved Elio the way Elio loved him. 

And it was everything that Elio would ever ask for. Everything he ever needed.

"You are the love of my life," he whispered. He felt the small movement of Leonardo's cheek against his as he smiled. "I've never found a love like this. And I won't try to."

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."

They sat there for a while, letting the breeze card through their hair. The door shutters rattled under the wind, and the little potted plant in the corner of the balcony whispered little secrets to them. The street below was eerily quiet, and it seemed to call out to them. 

"What do you usually do in the night?" he asked Leonardo. "Sleep?"

"I work the dinner shift at a restaurant sometimes and the closing shift at a bar other nights," Leonardo mumbled into Elio's ear. "I sleep during the day. At night...I go out. I don't do anything. I just walk the streets and think about you. Night time is – it’s my time with you. It’s our time."

Elio wished he could be like that one day. Working. Leading a normal life. He wished he could learn to be like Leonardo. Elio had always fended for himself, since he’d lost his parents, but – this time, he wanted it to be legitimate.

But that was why he was here – to learn from Leonardo. To learn with him. For as long as he would have him.

"It's a good thing you weren't out tonight then, isn't it?"

Leonardo chuckled. "Would you have waited? If I hadn't been home."

"I've waited twelve whole months. I would wait a lifetime." 

The clock on the front dresser read four am when Elio glanced back at it. Leonardo caught him doing so, and kissed him on the cheek. 

"What do you want to do now?" Elio asked. 

"Hmm." Leonardo pressed his lips on Elio's ear this time. "Let's go for a walk."

"Leo. Is it...is it going to be different between us now that we don't do...the things we used to do?"

“No. Never. We’ll find other things to do,” Leonardo said softly. “It doesn't matter what we do. I know the night will always be magical if I spend it with you.”

Elio was still tired from the long journey he’d made over here, and he was already sore from the way Leonardo had so mercilessly pounded him into the bed, but there was nothing more he wanted to do than to walk down the empty streets of Rome with Leonardo. Nothing. Not even sleep.

So they hit the streets again, hand in hand, strolling down Via Principe Amedeo. Rome was different in the night to Rosehurst; it was even quieter and even darker, and the buildings were gentler and friendlier. Elio got to see the restaurant Leonardo worked at in the daytime, its old wooden door displaying the ‘closed’ sign in the window. They crossed empty junction after empty junction. Occasionally, a car passed them, its tyres rumbling against the asphalt. The cobblestones jabbed against Elio’s tired feet as Leonardo pulled him along, just like old times, his laughter littering the otherwise boring air. 

And even though more than a year’s worth of nights had passed for Elio without him, that laughter was still young and free, and it still felt like home, and it still made Elio smile, and it still made him fall in love all over again.

Leonardo had been right – it was magical.

And once again, in the night, they were reborn; they were free, forever, as Leonardo and Elio.

[acourtofabsandillyrians]

Of Sun and Roses - Chapter One

Find the prologue here

Complete masterlist here

Without further ado, chapter one is live!

~~~

Elysa Ashryver didn’t think she was breathing as the music took over, her fingers flying across the keys. The piece she had chosen was one she hadn’t visited in awhile, which was why she was grateful for muscle memory. The way her foot pressed the pedal at just the right moment, or when she leaned into the keys to sound the crescendo...it was as if she had been practicing this piece for weeks. Elysa distantly heard applause as she played the final note, the sound muddled by the fog in her brain. It was common to loose her sense of self when playing, but it had been a long time since she had gotten this lost into the music.

Blinking, Elysa turned toward her sister, Evalin, who was lounging on the couch, romance novel in one hand and a chocolate croissant in the other. Elysa and Evalin were almost mirror images of themselves. If they weren’t princesses but instead simple commoners walking side by side through a market, most would probably think they were twins. But Elysa had softer features, full lips and a rounder face; unlike Evalin whose cheekbones could slice if she ever so desired. Which annoyed the hell out of Elysa because most nobility they conversed with at balls and galas thought seventeen year-old Evalin was the older one, no matter that Elysa was three years her elder.

“You could make it big with a performance like that,” Evalin said around a mouthful of croissant.

Elysa rolled her eyes as she turned around the bench to face her sister. “I already make it big as a princess.”

“Oh, please. You know that no one knows us or really cares about us. We’re the throwaways of the royal family.”

“Don’t say that,” Elysa said gently, fluffing her dress and sitting next to her sister. “What about mother and father?”

Evalin took another bite of her croissant. “Mother chastises me for breathing the wrong way, and father can’t even remember my birthday.”

“How can you breathe the wrong way?”

“Ask mother.”

Elysa covered her mouth as she giggled.

“See?” Evalin bursted out. “She’s gotten to you, too! We can’t even laugh openly.”

Elysa sighed. “Because it isn’t proper, Ev.”

“Proper, my ass,” Evalin muttered under her breath before taking a big swig of her tea.

“Evalin!” Elysa cried, hitting her sister’s shoulder. She mushed her lips together, trying not to laugh. Though they were similar in appearance, Evalin and Elysa couldn’t have been more different. They were polar opposites, but best friends all the same. Elysa needed Evalin to keep her from becoming rigid and uptight like their mother. Still, sometimes Elysa feared for her common sense every time she was with Evalin for too long.

Evalin, placing a dignified hand on her chest, gasped, “What, have I said something wrong, my princess? Well, let me say it again.” She cleared her throat. “Ass, ass, ass, ass—”

Elysa grabbed the last croissant off the plate and shoved it into her sister’s mouth before she could ruin her ears further.

“Evalin Marjorie Ashryver, you are going to get yourself stripped of your title as princess before nightfall if you continue like this.” Elysa tried to say all this with a straight face, but the words came out wobbly and high-pitched, which only made the two princesses collapse to the couch in a fit of giggles.

When they could finally breathe again, Evalin sat up, fanning herself. “In all seriousness, that piece you played…it was amazing.”

Elysa, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes, bowed her head in thanks. “You really think so?”

“I know so. You could travel the world with talent like that, El.”

Elysa loosed a breath, fingering the ends of her waist-length blonde hair. If only she could. Had she not been born into royalty, she may have considered it. But being a princess complicated things. She wasn’t in line to get the throne, of course, because her older brother was the Crown Prince of Wendlyn, but she was still subject to this castle until her parents found a suitor to marry her off to, most likely a male, fat and twenty years older than her, to secure foreign alliances.

Princess or not, she wasn’t escaping these walls. There was no point in even imagining the what-ifs…it would only make it worse. Besides, though traveling sounded appealing, she wasn’t Evalin. She didn’t have the fiery adventurous streak her sister had, who wasn’t afraid to go off on her own, not knowing which direction she was heading or if she was dipping her toe into a puddle or an ocean.

Elysa opened her mouth to respond when the great wooden doors swung open. She flinched despite the fact it was standard protocol for someone to enter the sun parlor without knocking.

“His Highness Glaston Ashryver, Crown Prince of Wendlyn,” the two guards who opened the door announced.

“Yes, he’s our brother, we know who he is,” Evalin grumbled, though she got to her feet and brushed the crumbs off her dress. Elysa did the same.

The two guards stepped apart, revealing their brother. Glaston was five years older than Elysa, but he might have been their father’s age by the way he presented himself. His ash brown hair was slicked back, glinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and despite it being their day off, he was in his full, princely attire, complete with a forest green cape.

His blue eyes, ringed with gold, stared back at Elysa’s and Evalin’s—the only feature they all had in common—waiting for them to act. Elysa bent down into a deep curtsy, tugging on her sister’s dress to do the same. Evalin grumbled but followed suit.

“Elysa, father requires your company,” Glaston announced, voice gruff.

Elysa’s breath caught in her throat. When was the last time her father acknowledged her presence, much less requested to speak with her?

“Is it urgent?” She asked, voice light.

“Yes. He asks that you meet him in his office immediately.” He looked her up and down, taking in her lavender silk dress that was little more than a slip and unbraided hair. “Though you may want to clean up your presentation first.”

“Excuse me?” Evalin demanded, but Elysa shushed her and bowed her head, muttering an “Of course.”

Whatever her father required her for, she needed the appearance of a beautiful princess. Someone yielding and ladylike. Even though she felt anything but.

~~~

Tagging: @yourlocalautisticoverlord​

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I’m so in love with this story and these characters...I hope you will love Elysa as much as I do as the story progresses! Please reblog, comment, share, jump up and down, whatever floats your boat. Let me know what you think in the comments! Or, if you would liked to be tagged, comment or let me know in my askbox!

Find character breakdown here

Chapter Two

[setsailslash]

Good god your askbox is open for prompts??? Well then how about this gem that you definitely didn't see coming: Bat Boys in a Jaeger. Which batboys and how many of them (because in canon we've had three several times now and WHY NOT FOUR I GUESS if you wanted to) is up to you. Though I will definitely tentatively request Jason be at least present somewhere. Extra points for ghost drifting (whether it's cute or romantic or sexy or horrifying or none of those is also up to you)

in which Jason is a little bit of Raleigh and Yancy and Herc and Chuck all at the same time. way more bruce&jason content than anticipated but all the boys are here despite very obvious favouritism lmao (can totally be read as something more but it’s gen!! :OO)

Jason remembers how a ghost drift goes in distant memory. 

Bruce was always good in that he is a blank slate, never brought a thing into their driftspace and took everything that Jason offered as his own. 

Except.

The after effect was a buzzing sense of weightlessness that echoed inside of him. He’s not floating or flying, he’s at the cusp of a sharp long drop. And it’s nothing he can grasp especially on their worst days when the feedback from their drift goes rampant between them even without any of the machinery that should make it possible.

But it’s real and it’s true.

Jason’s hand moving before his head could truly register the motion, already following the way Bruce moved his. He was a shadow connected at every place, sewn to the man he calls his co-pilot.

-

When Jason dies ten miles off of the Gulf of Aden, Bruce pilots their Jaeger back to shore all on his own. Circuitry suit burning the entire way through skin to scorch flesh, co-pilot torn from his head while they were still connected. 

That was the last time Bruce ever steps foot inside of a Conn-Pod again.

-

Coming back to the Jaeger Program was never supposed to be like this.

Jason looks at Dick Grayson, the Program’s golden boy and tells him: “You don’t want me inside your head.”

They have both had Bruce Wayne as a co-pilot, the difference being Dick came out unscathed while Jason died. 

“Let me decide that for myself, Jay.” Dick answers with a smile despite the dark bruises under his eyes. He is in his drivesuit and they are standing in the Conn-Pod next to one another.

There’s something a lot like trepidation crawling up Jason’s spine. His heart kicks up a beat, each pulse a thundering boom to echo inside his helmet. 

“Don't say I didn't warn you.”

He felt like the sharpened rough edges of something ready to shatter on impact on a good day, he cannot imagine how Dick could navigate that.

"Lil' win—"

"Don't fucking call me that."

Their LOCCENT officer chooses that moment to come over the speakers, and Barbara’s voice leaves no room for anything otherwise when she asks them both. “Ready for the drop?” 

For Jaeger pilots like them, it's an ingrained response. They echo one another when they answer, “Ready.”

-

[Neural Handshake Initiating.]

Three. Two. One. 

They drop.

-

It’s biological, this drift of theirs. 

It’s a fit of their heads that fit tighter than the way their drivesuits can pull across their shoulders. Even with each piece settling over top, giving them the necessary weight, it’s a pull that has them feeling electricity spark across their skin.

It’s a singe.

-

It’s not enough though.

Because they need all the warm bodies encased in cold metal and put to the test. Jason is one more in a long line of sacrifices. The Kwoon looks and feels the exact same when he steps foot inside of it once again. There is an air of indifference, and it’s funny to learn nothing is sacred anymore. Not even this. 

What truly stings though is the sight of Bruce standing on the sidelines in a dark suit.

“Drift compatibility doesn’t mean shit anymore, does it?” Jason spits out because the man might be the Marshal now but he was once Jason’s co-pilot too. And something hits like a dull solid pang when it is a replacement candidate standing on the other end of the mats, bo-staff in hand. 

Jason doesn’t wait for an answer, he turns to Tim Drake to say: “I’m not going to dial down my moves.”

“Okay.” Tim’s lips quirk upwards at both corners, vicious and sharp, his grip shifts where it curls around the staff. “Then neither will I.”

-

They each make their first strike against the other. And then again and again and again.

There is a rush of blood, exhilaration in their veins. Sweat at their temples and it drips. Tim is good even if it physically pains Jason to admit to it.

Maybe drift compatibility is not the joke here, maybe it’s Jason. Because he is on his back, pinned and stunned when Tim draws the last point between them, bringing it to an even score. It’s unmistakable, he knows this feeling.

The end of his bo-staff is millimeters from grazing at Jason’s throat.

“Three-three.” Tim says to him.

-

The world is coming to an end. 

If this isn’t the time for desperation, then there probably isn’t one.  They are the last stand, a last ditch effort, one final score if Jason's ever seen one.

Bruce goes as far as to test his own son with Jason. 

“I imagined him differently.” Damian says to start.

And Jason fucking scowls at the brat.

-

He feels them in his head, their thoughts lingering like an afterthought.

Having access to every crevice of someone else’s mind is not something to be desired, let alone a thing he would do to himself again and again and again like it’s a special kind of punishment he thinks he deserves. 

But. Bruce asked.

It’s one thing to have nothing buzzing inside of his head, and another to have it full to bursting at the seams. To Jason Todd, drift compatibility is akin to having a conversation with a stranger in the pouring rain or shrouded in the dark of an alleyway, and finding a thing that he wants to hold on to for the rest of his life.

He is Dick watching his parents' death. He is Tim stepping foot inside of his first Shatterdome. He is Damian being kept out of the pilot placements despite his perfect simulation scores.

They fill his head with their thoughts, and they press into the core of him until they become him.

Jason didn't ever think he could experience this so many times. They are his last moment when that last thread of his connection to Bruce snaps, and he's dragged under the waters of the Gulf of Aden streaked in Kaiju Blue.

From beneath the waves, it glowed neon green when the bright lights of their Jaeger passes over him. Bruce burned during his last run, and Jason did too.

Jason inhales and they with him.

-

He is suited up.

And so is every remaining Jaeger pilot they’ve got left in the program: Dick standing with Damian next to Tim at the other end of the hallway leading to their Conn-Pods.

“When you drift with someone, you feel like there’s nothing to talk about. I don't want to regret all the things I never said, Jason.” 

It is a testament to how long he’s been waiting to hear this from Bruce when his eyes are prickling in what might actually be tears. It’s salty and it stings.

“B, you don't need to.” He lets the man tug him into his arms, and his voice gets muffled but that’s okay too. “I know them all.” Jason tells him. “I always have.”

It’s a lie, but it’s a very good one. Jason has always known Bruce in that painfully intimate way, understood the man for who he is and who he cannot be for Jason even if push comes to shove comes to out right blows. And there were plenty of that even during their best days. 

Jason has spent a long time resenting Bruce. 

Maybe it's about time he moved on from that.

The world has been coming to an end for a while now, it would be ending on a good note if they do not have to die inside of one another’s head once more.

When he makes the drop into driftspace this last time, he thinks of all their good times.

[fatcatsarecats]

Xavierine witcher ficlet! Inspiried by my screaming at @gerec‘s askbox and @traumschwinge’s xavierine ficlet. i hope you guys don’t mind me tagging you guys in as well!!!

Many thanks to @irelise and @jackyjango who helped bunscheme this into shape!!!

—

If Charles knew Logan well, and he very much did, then the reason Logan hasn't answered any of his summoning Ravens is because he's been mucking around in some dingy cavern on either a treasure hunt or a Witcher Contract. Indeed, a quick location spell and a portal later, and Charles finds himself sinking his boots into a pile of hairy, but thankfully dead, arachnomorph legs. His nerves almost jumps out of his skin, but he doesn’t let himself cringe until he’s carefully climbed his way down the pile.

Times like these he’s grateful for his leather gloves and his study of magic. An enchantment sharpens his eyes to the darkness, and he finds Logan crouching by the mutilated body of an arachnomorph, holding a knife as he palms through its spilled innards.

"Watch your left."

Charles ducks fast enough to miss a small section of an arachnomorph leg sailing through the air. A thin silver, line of its blood splashes on his arm. He stifles a shudder, and with a burst of magic, waves his clothes clean again.

Lord, the sodden smell of algae is nothing compared to dead, squished spiders.  

Logan doesn’t pay him any mind. He’s probably already smelt Charles coming the moment he stepped out of the portal. Even though he’s tied his hair, strands have plastered itself to his forehead, drenched he is from the cave waters and… other things  

Which simply won’t do. A burst of magic thickens the air, and Logan grunts when he finds himself clean again.

“You could’ve washed away some precious extract, you know,” Logan grumbles.

Charles stifles a chuckle. “If they were as precious as you claim it to be, then it wouldn’t be splattered all over your clothes.” He walks to get a better look at dead the spider. "Charming," Charles says, scrunching his nose. "A contract, is it?"

“Ealdorman’s son went missing. Tracked his body down outside the cavern.”

“That poor boy,” Charles mutters. “So they sent you out here.”

“Nah, just thought I’d clean place up and maybe stock up on supplies while I’m at it.” Logan bags a couple of sticky, bright blue mutagens, before getting to work on it’s heart. "Can't let good ingredients rot to waste."

"Joy."

"Scuttly little bastards they are," Logan says. "Could've used your help when they were ganging up on me."

Charles raises one eyebrow. "If you had answered my calls, then I would have been happy to help. But, of course, you had to make it hard and camp inside a cavern."

Logan huffs in amusement .“All my fault, huh.”

“Always,” Charles says, his lip twitching. “Although, consider yourself forgiven if you save some of that saliva for me.”

Logan thinks on it, then he dips his finger into a pool of saliva. He scoops out a thick glob and offers it to Charles.

“In a vial, Logan.”

Logan barks out a laugh. "I forgot how sticky and pungent their webbing is. Wouldn’t be surprised if wads of the shit has slithered under my chainmail."

Charles shudders, batting at Logan’s hands, and Logan laughs even louder. As he always does when he purposely grosses Charles out.

"As... engrossing as it is," Charles says. “Aren't you going to ask why I've called on you?"

"Can't it be for my pleasant company?"

“Ah, yes. Because you are quite the conversationalist, my friend,” Charles says. “Well?”

Logan folds his own arms and stares at Charles. When it doesn't look like Charles is going to offer his reason—because really, he can be just as stubborn as a mule if he puts his mind to it—Logan sighs.

"Alright, I'll bite.” Logan tosses a pair of arachnomorph fangs in his palms. “What brings you here, Charles?"

Charles rolls his eyes. "I've detected residues of magic in Skellige. Ones that came from a big spike of power. There's a high chance that it could be Laura and her friends… but my report is quite dated. They could be long gone by now, so there’s no rush. I’d like to investigate the site, nonetheless.”

Logan's eyebrows dipped on his head. "I'm surprised you haven't checked it out yourself?"

Charles hears the unspoken, ‘With Erik,’ in his comment, and gives Logan the grace of ignoring such thing. “I was heading in that direction and I was wondering if you'd want to come with me."

“Why?”

“I thought it’d be nice to bring her father along if we do come across her.”

Logan doesn't say anything for a minute. He just scrutinises Charles with his unnerving stare. His cat eyes are infamous—known to discompose even Mages and Sorceresses—but Charles is used to them; he used to the myriad of expressions which crosses those cat eyes—both Logan and Erik’s.

"You could've just gone," Logan mutters. "You know how I hate portals."  

Charles waves his hand. "Nonsense. I'm due for some quality time with my horse, anyway."  

“You could have gone with Erik.”

Charles forces himself not to stiffen. “I didn’t think to ask. We’ve gone our separate ways.”

"Hmm," Logan says. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Darling,” Charles sighs, “when normal people skirt over a subject, it usually indicates and unwillingness to talk about it."

"But we're not normal, yeah?" Logan says. "You look upset."

Charles purses his lips. "You are as tact as ever, my friend."

“I’m one hell of a wordsmith in my own right,” Logan says. “But I don’t give that much of a fuck for Lehnsherr. He lands on his feet more fucking times than I can count. It’s you I’m worried about. Not to mention, the last time you and Erik tried to do anything with a Djinn, half of Rinde almost felt its wrath.”

Charles looks away. On instinct, he rubs his face (‘It’s better than crying.’) and exhaustion settles in, as it usually does whenever he thinks about the situation with Erik.

Logan’s face softens. There’s only silence between them as Logan rummages through his satchel.

“Here.”

Charles looks down. In Logan’s hand is a vial of monster saliva. He touches the vial almost gingerly.

He must think Charles to be so pathetic. Things didn't work out with Erik, so he runs to Logan crying about it. Isn’t that what he’s doing anyway? But then, Logan is much kinder than to call him out on it. Much kinder than what Charles deserves, probably.  

"Things with the Djinn didn't stick?" Logan asks gently.

"No." Charles sighs. "It did. That's the problem."

Erik wasn't supposed to be his, Charles knows. Erik was his by a lethal combination of pure stubbornness and a disastrous accident. He was Magda's first, and Charles fooled with a Djinn when he wasn't ready and they ended up bonded. The next few decades were spent bouncing between passion, love, and resentment—the kind that’s thick enough to choke on.  

Charles was ready for the latter. He took away Erik's choice in his love for Charles It was his fault for releasing the Djinn and putting them in a position where Erik’s life was compromised. When he used his last wish to save their lives, he invoked the Djinn’s mischief, and the Djinn tied their destinies together.

They spent all those years fighting, and Charles spent all those years hating himself for ruining one of the only good thing he's found in decades… Charles wondered why he spent so long waiting to find another Djinn to break their bond. Maybe he could have spared himself the current heartbreak.

Because to find out that their feelings were their own. To find out the Djinn had nothing to do with their hearts—and certainly nothing to do with their proximity from all the times either of them have stormed halfway across the world in their anger...

That… Charles was not ready for.

All the pain, the resentment, the hurt.

All for nothing.  

They ended things there, so they could start fresh. It was more so Charles's decisions than Erik's, but Erik has other business to sort out himself. Magda is a fellow sorceress. It could be as if no time had passed at al.

It was—is—better this way.

"I'll tell you about it one day," Charles says, tucking his vial into his rucksack. "Are you done here?"

Logan stares him again. This time, Charles blinks back at him, tilting his head in question. Logan brushes some blood off his shoulder plates as he stands up. He offers a hand and pulls Charles up with him.

Charles chants a quick cleaning spell on Logan’s gloves. He’ll thank Charles for this, he’s sure of it.

"Still got one or two nests to go," Logan says. "Want to come with?"  

“Why is it whenever I visit you, we always end up in some dark, smelly cave?”

“Should’ve kept better company then.”

That pulls a laugh out of Charles. “At least it was treasure last time,” Charles says. "But why not? Two heads are better than one, I suppose."

Charles gathers a ball of light in his hands. He holds it out, and the ball floats near his head, illuminating a soft blue on their surroundings.

“Speaking of...” Logan says. "Aren’t you going to..."

Charles tips his head in question.

Logan taps the side of his forehead.

Surprised, the ball of light beside his head blinks out momentarily. He could count the handful of times Erik has invited him into his head. Logan has long surpassed both fingers of his hands. It’s how Charles got the inkling that too had a past with a fellow mind reader. He’s simply too comfortable having someone in his head.

He forgot how nice it could be when someone else takes the initiative.

Logan’s head feels like it always does. A glass of whisky warming his systems in a lowly lit pub. He’s thinking about Laura, mostly. Worrying about her. Wondering what forms of trouble has she and her friends been up to.

“Comfortable?” Logan asks.

If you don't mind, Charles says. Remember that it goes both ways. I’ve fine tuned the spell as such. And if you need space...

“I'll tell you, bub,” Logan says. “Just don't go looking into places you're not supposed to be. Unless you want to see a bunch of alghouls fucking around the place.”

As far as he knows, alghouls do not mate or reproduce with each other, but he doesn’t doubt the imaginative powers of Logan’s mind.

Charles shudders. You have an odd and macabre sense of humour, my friend. Shall we get going?

[unmanageable-day]

No longer

Part: 1 » 2 » 3 » 4 » 5 » 6 » 7 » 8 » 9 

Genre: idk if this is angst or not

When you’re on a so-called break with your (ex-)boyfriend!Taeil, and your friend!Doyoung is slowly—and subtly making his way up to a higher position in your life rather than just being a friend.

a/n: hello everyone~ this one is finally finished :”““)) thankyou to everyone who pressed the heart, i appreciate it somuchhh! feel free to stop by in the askbox, i’d love to talk to you guysss :D

- ONE WEEK LATER -

After a tough discussion with Taeyong, Johnny, Yuta and Jaehyun, resulting in a stressful mode of you, finally you were willing to go outside. To visit Doyoung's place. The little ones, Jungwoo and Donghyuk texted you a lot, asking when you would come by. The lame excuse they made was them missing you. You knew it was a bait. Once you cooled down, at last you gathered your courage to pay him a visit.

You nervously rang the bell. You can't help but fidgeting your fingers. What if Doyoung opens the door? What would be the first thing you say to him?

A few seconds later, the door was unlocked. Your heart was racing. You tightened your grip on your sling bag, which you loosened it immediately when you found Donghyuk welcoming you.

"Oh my God, finally, Noona!" He cheerfully exclaimed and gave you a hug. "Come in. We missed you very much," he said as he took your hand, entering the house.

"Is Doyoung here?" you carefully asked.

Donghyuk smiled. "I'll get him."

You sat on the couch in the living room while Donghyuk went to Doyoung's room.

Doyoung appeared slowly from his room. He looked clueless, until he noticed your presence. You stood up and he just stormed towards you. He buried you in his long arms.

"I'm not dreaming, am I?" You could hear him gasping in happiness. He broke the hug for a moment to have a close look at you. He bursted into tears in no time, yet still managed to grin wide.

"Hi, Doyoung," you said, smiling at him. You cupped his cheek and gently rubbed off the tears of joy falling down his face.

A mix of chuckles and sniffles from crying was his best reaction to your existence before his eyes and within his embrace. He couldn't find right words to express how he felt beyond happy to finally see you again. To be able to hug you again. To have only himself to be seen in your eyes.

"I miss you," he whispered as he tucked some strands of your hair into the back of your ears.

You remained to be silent. You only maintained your smile.

Doyoung brought you to his room. You sat on the edge of his bed, while he pulled a chair from his desk to face you. Your conversation started with him going on about how it felt like thousands of days not seeing you. How his insecurity of losing you started to consume his mind if Taeyong and the other boys, including his baby roommates didn't calm him down. How he desperately believed Jaehyun who kept saying 'when it's the right time, Jena noona will come to hyung.'. He didn't regret believing in Jaehyun with all his might.

You didn't respond much. You were somewhat not used to how he can be so open with whatever he was thinking. This guy literally shared everything.

"Do you remember one of my wishlists?" He started to move to another topic.

"Which one?"

He grinned as he took your hands. "I want to live in a place, far from the capital city, far from the crowds. Somewhere I can see the nature whenever I go. Somewhere with a cleaner air. Like Jeju Island. You know, like Lee Hyori." He paused to let out a chuckle as his mind recalled the old days when you actually laughed at him for wanting to live far from Seoul. You mocked him on how he would survive there and how to have a proper job, since you both had been working in a high end office building. "Maybe opening a cafe like Yoo Yeonseok and Son Hojun did."

"Mm-hmm?"

"Guess what, my mom told me that there's this house in Jeju belong to my great great granny."

"Yeah, and?"

"Jena, would you come with me?" He looked at you with his bunny eyes that were full of hopes. "I would like to invite you to be a part of my dream life. Let's move there, and we'll live together. Just you and I."

Slowly your eyebrows started to curl, forming a slight wrinkle on your forehead. Yet you still wore your smile. You were speechless. You had been aware of Doyoung's wish to move to a small city when he gets old later. It was never crossed in your mind that you would be involved in it. In your head, Taeil's words kept replaying by itself on and on: 'Promise me you'll be happy with Doyoung, okay, Jena? Remember, if you're happy, I'm happy.'

Doyoung squeezed your hands in his while waiting for your answer. "Jena? Is it a yes or yes?" He tried to break the ice.

You inhaled deeply, knowing you were going to make a big decision in your life. A bigger smile was curved on your lips, which he took it as a yes from you. He smiled back at you. You could sense how he was relieved. You were honestly unable to give him a crystal clear yes answer. You said no more words as Doyoung delicately pulled you again into a tighter hug.

You had no idea that you could pull it off perfectly; a sincere, whole heartedly smile that was actually unfortunately fake.

[pacifistofpatience]

US, UF, and UT skelebros with an S/O who obsessively collects mugs?

((Last one in my askbox! Its probably going to be a little bit until i open it again because I have some HC stuff I want to post first!!))

Undertale

Sans

Lock them up tight

You know you just gave himthe holy grail of jokes, right?? How could he—how could he not pull the mugjoke on you once???

You’ll probably ascend toanother plane the first time he does it, because its one thing hearing the joke…but another thing to be on the receiving end of it

All the while Sans will besipping his bowl, contently waiting for you to come back to earth

Papyrus

Will want to drink fromthem

Has a believe that if youhave something, and it has a use, he intends to use it for that (And then some)cause what’s the point of just having it there? To look pretty??? Papyrus lookspretty and he always has a use!!

Still respects yourcollection, but will ask permission to use one every now and then

Probably waits for Sans topull the mug joke (because you know he’s going no matter what)

(After said joke is pulled:

“AGH SANS! THAT WAS HORRIBLE!AND TO THINK I WAS CONCERNED THAT THE HUMANS LOVLY COLLECTION OF DECORTIVE CUPSHAD BEEN….”

Cue dramatic pausefollowed by shifty eye lights

“…MUGGED!”)

Underswap

Sky

A~DOR~ABLE

Loves that you havesomething that you like to collect, and very much thinks its cute when youcome home carting another mug to add to your collection

Asks the stories behindthem, if you remember where you got this pretty colored one! And! Oh!! This onereminds him of the color of your soul!! And Oh! Oh! This one looks like hismagic!!

(You’re going to findthose last two placed next to each other at some point, don’t move them, he thinksthey belong together)

Pappy

Has a habit of rearrangingthings, this includes your mugs

If Pappy sees a way themugs could be moved around to make it more aesthetic (Say, in color order) hemay just go ahead and do that when he gets a burst of energy

(also kind of needs thevisual change every now and then)

If you’re cool with himdoing it then its nbd, if it bothers you then maybe talk to him about it andhell understand, he kind of did it without thinking the first time anyway

Is the most likely to break one. Then panicand scramble to replace it before you notice. Like full on rushing out of the houserunning to every store near by and then some all the while searching on ebay inhopes he can fix it ASAP

The guilt will eat at himeven after he replaces the mug. Will confess in the most dramatic way possibleall the while begging for your forgiveness.

Forgive him, please, he’sprobably punished himself enough

Underfell

Red

He doesn’t really see thepoint of it, you just have a collection of something…?? A lot of somethings?? that you’ll never really use??

He believed that everythingyou have should have a purpose (Even his accidental collection has a purpose, avery specific one but still one)

Mostly because of the Undergroundand how limited supplies was (and how you had to fight tooth and nail to get it)so anything he had was only absolutely necessary

But he sees how much youlike them, and he’s not one to deny you anything

When you two move intogether, actually insists you bring your collection, and even makes room forit

(It’s a way to make iteven more permanent. Because, sometimes, he finds it hard to believe yourstaying there for him so having something tangible that you spent years buildingup reassures him in a way. It reminds him that you’re here to stay)

Boss

Another one that needs ause for everything

Doesn’t do anything aboutit, but will sometimes make side comments if you never use the mugs

But then one day you’llcome home and there will be this… spot…just cleared out, and a very pretty,very expensive looking shelving will be there??? And you’ll have no idea whatits for until three days later Boss demands to know why you haven’t placed yourcollection on the very nice display case he made for you! Honestly!! Does hehave to do everything!!

You never see when Boss addsa new piece to your collection, but you’re pretty sure you have at least 10more that you don’t remember buying

[octrainisms]

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 62: What makes you happy?

Octavio: Well……. Geez, um… What makes me happy is my friends. My hombres and chicas and others. They are my family, man. Can’t live without them…. That and cat videos. Perfect. As for the other question…. Man, I think it does, but it’s hard to say really. It’s a kick in the teeth when it happens, but it puts you right. I reunited with Ajay because of my choice leading to such an outcome.

I will answer with no cut because this wall of text needs to be seen without unneeded diverts. Pardon the pizza fingers and emotional typos.

For those who don’t know, I, the mun, Alex, have gone through hell. I was bullied my whole life - even to this day actually - and was kicked down every chance my parents got, telling me my dreams, hopes, aspirations and life choices were the worst (Um hi yes my mom did things that weren’t technically legal so fight me lady).

I have been coerced, tricked, manipulated and down right forced to believe that the r word I will not say, was okay, because I am born a woman and should like it when men do things to my body. For six years I ate once a day for two reasons. One, my mother told me I wasn’t really hungry until it hurt. And two, because everyone called me ugly and fat, the usual (I was borderline anorexic).

I see myself as male, with the unfortunate mutation to make my body female. And because of everything, I have so many issues mentally, ranging from extreme suicidal tendencies to PTSD to anxiety and depression. But the one thing my brain did, is give me Borderline Personality Disorder. Unlike Disassociative Identity Disorder, I know what is happening when all but one personality comes out, I know what is real, not real and so on (bar my PTSD outbursts). I have survived attempted murder four times (three were in one fucking day boy howdy I hate water now).

I got out of an abusive relationship and into a new one more times than I wish to say and was ready to end it all. I had everything set up to be as clean as possible so minimal work for others coming through and had my plan. My personality, Kiel who was born from my pride, convinced me to write a post detailing the death of my muse at the time.

‘What do you have to lose?’

And so I did, then proceeded to write a novel of a goodbye letter. Before posting, he told me to open a new window. Again, those words rang out from his mouth. I let him open tumblr in a new tab, and see an ask. He pushes for me to click it, those same words a mantra by this point. I didn’t care, I just wanted to die and he was making me suffer.

‘Humour me. If it’s hate, then I will step back and let you do this. If it is anything else, you have to listen to me.’

What did I have to lose?

And so I opened my askbox to see one message from someone I adored but was terrified to message.

OMG SENPAI I HAVENT HEARD FROM YOU IN AGES HOW ARE YOU ARE YOU OKAY?!

It’s like she knew something was wrong.

Why do you care?

It was cold and cruel, a blunt sort of ‘fuck off’ that I could do when you have the Son of fucking Loki from your books nagging you to at least ask SOMETHING.

And here she is, the fucking angel that ran me over that I never saw coming;

Because you’re amazing and I love your writing and I really want to write with you and be your friend but I’m scared to do that because I don’t want to be a bother and I just have a feeling that something’s not okay. Please talk to me, I know I’m a random but if anything is wrong talk to me please.

I was floored, but the trickster burst into action, egging me on to talk to her. An hour later, I was smiling through tears.

Long story short, what he convinced me to do was buy a chocolate mud cake, eat it in one sitting, then vomit for six hours and hate his guts.

Oh, and that angel? She is my wife now, knows all 183 personalities in my head and loves me, as she said ‘dick or no dick’.

Long story short;

Yes. It all happens for a reason. Not because some higher power says so or anything silly like that. But without those moments of true agony I never would have found my family in my mind. I never would have gone to that web series, made that blog, found that angel and found peace in life again.

Do I have days where I wish I didn’t humour the trickster? Hell yeah.

But I reach out to people, something I was terrified of the first time I did it. I’ll ramble, or write a sad drabble. It’s nothing to be ashamed of at all.

It took me my whole life and one hell of a stubborn Canadian Angel for me to see that I am worth being alive, that I’m awesome and amazing and beautiful and perfect in my own way despite preaching it over and over for years for other people!

If I can be that rock for you, that pillar of hope, I damn well will be. It all happens for a reason, but you have to fight through it, humour that trickster itch of pride in you to see what is around the corner.

Doesn’t matter if a teacher tells you to kill yourself and that it’ll be a grace on humanity, doesn’t matter if that fucking douchebag of a kid calls you ugly, fat, weird, or a freak. Fucking stand up and be proud of it. If they tell you that you’re weird, say ‘yeah, duh dude, it’s kinda my thing’. If they call you fat say ‘at least I’m warm in the winter’. If they tell you you’re a freak, just smile creepily and say ‘we all float down here’.

Look in the mirror and be proud of what you see. Because you have made it this far, made it to this point, despite all the setbacks and chains around your body.

YOU ARE WORTH IT!

And don’t you dare give up, don’t you dare stay silent, be loud, be proud. You are unique and perfect in your own damn way, so when they knock you down, get back up. If they tell you to die, live in spite of their words.

One of my biggest bullies in school now works at a mcdonalds, twenty six and still with his mom, starting a family in her home rather than his own, and I know owning your own house is hard, but he called me fat, and now he is three times my own weight. I work in a shop where my co-workers are my family, where I feel safe and loved, where every day I am asked if I’m okay and everything.

I know it’s hard, I know it’s painful even, but it is worth it. Everything that hits you is worth pushing through. I lost six people to suicide throughout my life, and it takes its toll. I asked to nothing ‘can’t you see I miss you?’, but never really thought it about myself, and that’s the kicker. Words destroy people. I’d take broken bones any day. But also, I look to my past, I cry, sure, but I fucking smile.

Without all of that, I wouldn’t be thick skinned for my job, or able to help people from experience. I wouldn’t be proud of who I am if I never went through the moments of hating my very existence.

It all happens for a reason, and if you are still reading this, then take away six simple words from this;

Never give up; never give in

You are worth it, always worth it. Just remember that you’re still alive, and that you are perfect as you are. And that if you ever need a place to turn to, come here, where I, and the 183 others will remind you why living is only half as amazing with you in it.

[simptasia]

Do you have any headcanons about the lost character's music tastes?

Ooh, thank for allowing me to come into my askbox and be pleasantly surprised (i tensed up thinking i was gonna see a hate message)And I didn’t even have to ask!

Most of this is what I’ve gleaned from canon (and expansions there upon), and also bear in mind I don’t exactly know the details of the genres of music, so specific bands may be lost of me. But thank you for asking

Jack: canon into classic rock. (i checked, Nirvana specifically) which is hilarious because Jack is, and I mean this in a loving way, a piece of stale white bread. other music is lost on him but he’ll move his head awkwardly to most songs out of politeness. it’s also very subtly implied that jack wanted to be a piano player instead of a doctor and we even see him playing rather nicely. so theres that

Kate: in a flashback we saw her wearing a Janis Joplin shirt (amazingly when they were writing Kate, they thought they were making a straight character. hah) so I figure she likes that kind of music, like… women with croaky voices singing about pain and love. throw Alanis Morissette in there too. plus, she was excited when she realised who Charlie is, so throw a little punk rock in there. or at the very least Kate heard You All Everybody on the radio and enjoyed it. i’ve pictured her getting into some bops too, e.g I Feel Like A Woman by Shania Twain. i like to imagine her getting into that whilst making breakfastCharlie: we know Charlie’s taste. and he declares himself an “expert on all things musical” so i gather he loves music in general. favours punk rock tho. the kind of Fuck The System rock that he thinks he’s making. you just know Charlie loved the Sex Pistols. he’s also canon a fan of The Kinks (snort) and Oasis. and he must be a Beatles fan (such a pom) because he has some lyrics of theirs tattoo’d on his shoulder (thanks to his actor)Daniel: canonically adores classical music and… Driveshaft (which just tickles me pink, i imagine he has all their albums, which would be at least three in the limbo world) so apparently loves punk rock too. i imagine Driveshaft is he favourite band and he recognises they have hit or misses and aren’t That Great but he just thinks they’re neat. he loves all classical music but his favourite composer is chopin. (referencing to how fantaisie-impromptu by chopin is His Song). he also creates music himself and apparently has experimental tastes for it. as made clear to me by his story, music is his ultimate special interest. specifically involving the piano. live your dreams, babyLocke: owns both of Driveshaft’s albums (expressed that the first was better) if Daniel didn’t do his concert thing I’d say locke is the biggest fan of driveshaft of all our characters. make of that what you will, it’s just funny picturing Locke listening to and enjoying Charlie’s music. i also see him liking Johnny CashShannon: doesn’t like Driveshaft. i imagine she enjoys pop music. the kind you can dance and bop ur head to in a club or something. she was also a ballet teacher so i figure she has at least a passing interest in classical music. we also cannot forget the time she sang La Mer for Sayid and it was beautifulHurley: also did not enjoy Driveshaft (i keep mentioning that because i’ve kept track of who doesn’t and does like Charlie’s music, it amuses me). i hadn’t thought about this before but i can genuinely see Hurley enjoying hip hop & rap music. imagine him attempting to sing along to a fast paced verse but fumbling but he’s enjoying himself anyways and even making up words. great. also i just remembered hurley had a walkman for like the first season until it broke and that provided a variety of background music. i cannot recall genres tho. but basically hurley has good taste and fuck this show uses music wellMichael: canon into bob marley so michael must be into reggae. easy going listening, something you can roll your shoulders toCharlotte: she seems to love Geronimo Jackson (a fictional band within the lost universe) and based on their era (the 70s) and their cover art, i presume this shit was hippie-ish and psychedelic. maybe funky too. since she’ll be dating daniel, she’ll have to tolerate driveshaft and she personally considers them OkayMiles: EMO. EMO ROCK. EMO PUNK. WAKE ME UP (WAKE ME UP INSIDE). i don;t have specific examples bcuz i dunno this genre but yeeeahhh. the 90s kind too because lost is set in 2004 and like, we saw how he dressed in the 90s. wowee. (i don’t think the emo examples i can think of were even a think in 2004). also i hc he thinks driveshaft are utter shit and thinks daniel has bad taste (but tolerates it. like, its garbage but it makes daniel happy). miles’ parents are canon into jazz and country, miles is not. and i think he regards country as off puttingDesmond: if he never has to listen to “make your own kinda music” ever again, it’ll still be too soon. so canon dislikes driveshift (basically regarded it as shit in the most tactful way possible). but i never thought about what would desmond like, just what he doesn’t like [shrug emoji] …for whatever reason, i got a burst of, MAYBE DESMOND LIKES QUEEN?? therefore it is decided. besides, who doesn’t love queen? AND i hc that des was a theatre kid when he was young so make of that headcanon what you re. music taste. (he’s not an expert or anything like that, but i think he’d know a good tune when he hears it)Juliet: when you’re alone and life is making you lonely you can always go

downtowni dunno what genre that song is but it’s good, i like that song too. i’ve associated it with juliet ever since this show. (same with wonderwall and charlie)Sawyer: bit stereotypical but i think it’s fair to say… country rock? i can see it. also i imagine he (and juliet) got in geronimo jackson during the dharma times. oh and sawyer is also canon into bob marley (it was a nice bonding moment)

Richard: i just wanna mention richard to be in awe over the fact that he’s heard music evolution over like 180 years and that’s so cool. also i imagine he loved 60s & 70s music (and has the era appropriate dance moves)Ben: a long time ago i headcanon’d that his favourite song is “you are my sunshine” and i’m not going back on that. he used to sing to alex when she was a baby. also plays and likes classical piano because of course he doesClaire: her favourite song is Catch A Falling Star for emotional reasons. besides that? into enya-type music and ballads. sarah mclachlan and sarah brightman type singers also. would be indifferent to or even not like driveshaft music if, you know, it didn’t involve her dead soulmate. so she gets the albums and merch (for free from liam, of course) and cries about it. as ya do. oh, oh and she loves abba! because pretty much every australian loves abba! (especially queer australians, even if claire doesn’t know she’s queer yet)Sun: canon knows how to play piano classical music and i think to myself, maybe due to that, she doesn’t actually like the genre. like i imagine she was forced to learn piano (ya know rich ppl) so she has negative feelings about itBoone: i’m hearing something when picturing him, which i may have to classify as prog rock / college rock. early 2000s style, you get me?and for anybody else interested in the music used in the show and listened to by the characters within here’s this: https://lostpedia.fandom.com/wiki/Songs