#if he gets my cold anyway and i could have been reaping the advantages of huggable friends... I'm gonna be so mad

[mangled-by-disuse]

anyway I'm having a shitty night and I feel like garbage but BECAUSE I feel like garbage (I have an appalling cold) I can't get hugs about it

truly nobody has ever suffered as I suffer.

[flightfoot]

I'm not someone who watches Miraculous Ladybug but why are there so many Marinette/Damian fics? I keep seeing them when I scroll through Timsteph fics.

OH HELL. You know, I’ve been wondering what Batman-only fans must think of the flood of Marinette/Damian. It’s uh. Yeah it doesn’t make a ton of sense. 

See, here’s the thing; there’s a LARGE section of the ML fandom devoted to salt, specifically salt towards one particular episode; Chameleon, where Marinette - the main character - has her seat reassigned during class so she has to sit at the back away from all her friends in order to make way for a returning student who *claims* she has a hearing disability so she can sit in the front row. However, said character, Lila, is a notorious liar, as Marinette, Adrien (the deuteragonist and Marinette’s main Love Interest), and the audience know. Adrien actually offers to go sit in the back instead, but Marinette and Lila both shut down that idea and Marinette stews in the back of the classroom for awhile. 

Then at lunch, Lila tells more stories of her fabulous life and gets people to bring a tray of food for her since she claims she hurt her wrist. Marinette tries to tell two of her other friends that Lila’s a liar and a fake, but can’t actually produce any evidence to prove it, so she throws a napkin at Lila to try to prove she’s faking her injury... which Lila then catches, but pretends to have hurt her arm. Her other classmates scold her for throwing a napkin at Lila and causing her to hurt herself, Marinette storms off, and Lila corners her in the bathroom and threatens to turn all her friends against her and stop her from ever getting close to Adrien unless she sides with her.

Adrien actually catches up with Lila soon after that and asks her to please stop lying, that she doesn’t need to do that and she’ll only turn their classmates against her, and offers to help listen if something’s bothering her. He doesn’t  realize that Lila’s targeting Marinette, or that she’s actively malicious in general, just thinking that she’s lonely and is lying to try and make friends.

Lila brushes him off and purposely seeks out an akuma to get herself akumatized, turns into a villain, tries to defeat Ladybug and Chat Noir, the usual jazz.

Anyway, at the end after defeating her, when Marinette’s about to try to publicly call Lila out for switching up which ear Lila has Tinnitus in, Adrien asks her whether she thinks exposing her will actually help anything, and that humiliating her will make her hurt more, and making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy.

So Marinette decides not to do that, and when they go back to the classroom, Adrien goes to the back and sits next to Marinette of his own accord. Then the whole class decides that they liked the old seating arrangement better, and everyone goes back to their old seats and Lila’s left sitting by herself in the back (she’d claimed her tinnitus magically got better, so she didn’t need to sit in the front anymore.)

Salters took that episode and RAN with it, writing fic after fic of epic revenge fantasies that WAY ramped up how bad any of the characters could POSSIBLY be, making the class force her to do commission after commission for them for free, never showing her proper appreciation for all she does for them, and when Lila shows up and starts manipulating people, have the class scorn and shun Marinette for being an awful person, rip up her stuff, and beat her up, often with her (former) best friend Alya leading the charge, and Adrien just standing and the background telling her to take it.

A lot of people writing these hate Adrien’s guts, having decided that he’s a sexual harasser/assaulter/potential rapist, and wanted to ship her with other people - her second canon Love Interest, Luka, and the scrapped first draft for her partner from the original concept for ML, Felix, at the top of the list.

Felix, notably, was generally perceived as being cold, aloof, and no-nonsense, but with a heart of gold. So he was sometimes used to inflict punishment on everyone the salters hated, plus Marinette could be one of the few people to slip past his cold exterior and become someone he cared for.

Then Felix was gonna be made canon. And someone new was needed to fill that role. 

One tumblr user wrote a story where the polite, yet aloof, young man Damien hears a girl screaming in trouble, sees Marinette in Gotham, and instantly falls in love with his Angel, and she ends up staying in Gotham instead of with all the horrible, horrible Everyone Else In Her Life.

Yeah, Damian wasn’t remotely in-character in those early fics at least. His name was often misspelled with an “e”, actually. 

But anyway. A few advantages to this; Damian can be made to be super sweet and a perfect gentleman around Marinette, who can instantly see all the worth that everyone else in her life threw away, and as a bonus, can reap revenge on her classmates who tried to beat her up/destroy her notebook/poison her/whatever the fic writer came up with, since Damian might feasibly be willing to inflict cruel punishment on them (not that being in-character has ever been valued much in these fics), plus Marinette gets the entire Batfamily to dote on her and be her new family and be totally removed from everyone the author doesn’t like, which tends to be most of the ML cast. Except for her canonical bully who made her life miserable both before and during the actual series, Chloe; she’ll often become Marinette’s new best friend. Though I don’t think that’s as common with the crossover.

It mixed up the Chameleon salt formula, which I think even the salters had gotten a little tired of (though it’s still going strong), and gave possibilities for a lot more different character interactions, and just generally breathed new life into it.

At this point it’s kinda become its own thing, and some people are actually stepping away form the salt and bashing that birthed the pairing and just shoving her in with the Batfamily generally, because... honestly I suspect there’s some wish fulfillment going on there. And people seem to have a slightly better idea of how the Batfamily works now? Maybe? From what I’ve seen, I think people may have at least STARTED doing some research.

Anyway, yeah. They’re basically a separate fandom at this point, pretty much just devoted to like. That one episode of ML, the first episode of season 3, that released over a year and a half ago.

But uh. Yeaaaah, don’t judge ML by what you see in those crossover fics. Their relation with canon, especially canon characterization, is tenuous at best.

As you might be able to tell, I don’t ship it. I also hate the OOCness, but actually like the potential for the crossover, and wrote my own ML X Batman crossover fic, “We’re The Same”, that was sticking with the canon ships, characterization, and overall just dropping the two franchises into each other in a more canon compliant way to see what would shake out. Especially since dammit, ADRIEN AND DAMIAN WOULD BE FRIENDS. 

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [12]

Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 12.5 OR Chapter 13

➜ Words: 4.7k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

cr.

“Why can’t you listen to me?!”   You shout, voice straining. You close the distance through two wide strides. “You will die if you leave. There is nothing beyond the horizons. Nothing! You will die!”   But Jimin’s eyes are glossed over. He’s staring over your head with a dreamy expression. “Do you see that?”   “See what?” You turn around before looking back at him. “There’s nothing there.”   “No…” He walks off, entirely captivated. “It’s dandelion seeds floating in the sky. I can see it. It’s so pretty.”   “It’s winter,” you reason. “There aren’t any dandelions.”   But he walks off anyhow. You run after him, calling him at the top of your lungs.   And scene.   There’s a brief pause before you turn to Jimin with a grin. “What do you think?”   “It was good. I almost forgot my line,” he admits. “And you startled me when you screamed.”   “Sorry.” Luckily, the pair of you haven’t gotten a noise complaint just yet.   It’s quite advantageous to be neighbors with Jimin and to be dating him — it gives you plenty of opportunities to practice and go over scenes, even long after rehearsals have ended. It’s your first time after all and Jimin’s still relatively new to the stage of Broadway. The last thing you want is to disappoint.   He flips the script. “I want to practice scene six of act one, so the one before this one.”   You go to the page number he’s looking at. “But this scene is with you and Yeonjeon.”   “You can play her part.” Jimin shrugs. “I want to make sure I have it down right.”   “Okay.” You hold the script while he disregards his on the dinner table. You skip over the narration, reading the line as best as you can. “Eugene. What are you doing here? I thought they told you to stay away from me.”   “Do you think I could’ve?”   His stare is intense, narrowed right in on you. Jimin steps close to you, and the tension makes you swallow hard, beginning to break into a sweat. “Umm, t-there’s no point. I’m leaving.”   “Let me come with you.” Jimin steps right behind you, hand on your shoulder and the other on the dip of your waist, touching you intimately.    “I can’t — I’m running away. Running away from this winter.”   He leans down, propping his chin on your shoulder, whispering in your ear in a husky voice. “Where to?” The question is asked more seductively than necessary and you miss how the sly smirk on his face appears when he notices the way you flinch, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise all over your arms.   “Beyond the sunrise and sunset, where summer still exists,” you read, but your hand holding the script begins to tremble.   “Do you think summer exists there?” Jimin wraps his arms around your midsection, pulling you closer to him and pressing his crotch to your ass. Okay, this was most definitely not in the script.   “There has to be.” You turn your head, eyes meeting. At this point, the two of you are supposed to break out into song, but Jimin gazes at you through half-lidded eyes instead. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, he wets the seam of his lips before blatantly staring at yours…   Jimin leans in for a kiss—   But you push him away with one hand on his chest.   “Hey, this isn’t in the script.” You pout at him.   “Really?” Jimin’s brows lift, playing dumb. “I thought it was.”   “Liar.” You sulk. “You’re just using this to your advantage.”   He laughs a melodic note much to your dismay. Jimin’s going overboard merely because he can, touching you all over when he knows you melt like butter, practically putty in his hands. He’s a devious little shit and you hate that you don’t hate it.   “You’re not going to touch her like this, right?”   “Would you be jealous?” he asks, cheeky.    “No!” you exclaim sternly, putting your foot down. “It’s all an act anyways. I know what being professional is.”   “Ooh.” The brunette boy nods. “Impressive. Guess I don’t know what it means to be a professional then because I wouldn’t touch anyone else like this except for you.”   “God, you never get enough, do you, Jimin?” You roll your eyes at how he’s blatantly laying on that grease. He’s so entirely shameless that it’s ridiculous and he knows it too. “What do you want from me this time, huh? Another compliment?”   “A kiss preferably. But I’ll take anything else.”   You pout and when he gives those puppy eyes, you give in. You lean closer to him, playfully planting your mouth on his like it’s a chore. “There, happy? Can we get back to practicing now?”   “Hmmm.” Jimin pretends to think about it. “No. We’ve been practicing for hours and I don’t think I’m satisfied from that kiss.”   Suddenly, he picks you up straight off the ground and laughs when you squeal. Jimin barrels towards his bedroom while carrying you, squeezing giggles out of your chest and you let him get away with it because you love him.   //   The pair of you stand at the piano, glancing at one another.   “There may be no sunshine or daytime, or flowers or warmth, but there’s you.”   “There’s you,” Jimin echoes back   “There’s us,” you harmonize together. You’re nervous to be singing out loud for so many to hear, but Jimin gives you a warm smile and the way he squeezes your hand reassures you. It makes your heart race and not because of your stage fright. “There’s us, together in this snowfield, together in this cold winter.”   “Very good.” The director claps once the duet ends.   “Y/N and Jimin, at the second verse, right here, you should try to open your vowels a bit more,” The music director points out and you huddle to where she is. You nod, and Jimin stays by your side the entire time.   No one notices the way Yeonjeon is staring.   “Alright everyone. Let’s take it from scene six of act one.”   You step aside and everyone related to the scene gathers. In the center of the room, Yeonjeon approaches Jimin with a smile. “Ready?”   “Ready,” he answers with an equally friendly smile.    The director cues him in.    “Eugene. What are you doing here?” Yeonjeon turns around, gasping, both surprised and relieved. “I thought they told you to stay away from me.”   They meet one another halfway and Jimin looks down at her. “Do you think I could’ve?”   “There’s no point.” She faces the floor. “I’m leaving.”   “Let me come with you.” He grabs her arm, stopping her before she can flee from him.   “I can’t — I’m running away. Running away from this winter.”   “Where to?”   “Beyond the sunrise and sunset, where summer still exists,”   “Do you think summer exists there?” Jimin asks, entranced by the mere idea.   “There has to be.” Their eyes meet and music begins to play on the stereo, filling the studio with a wondrous and light melody.   Yeonjeon parts her lips, inhaling a breath. “You’ve come to save me.”   “I’ve come to love you.” He sings back to her and they hold onto each other.   There are others dancing in the background and Jimin spins Yeonjeon around gently, the two of them twirling in an intimate dance. There are breaths held as people watch them. You’re mesmerized as well.   “They’re so good together, huh?” a girl beside you whispers to another. You glance at them before looking back at the duo still lovingly serenading one another.   “No love is better than ours,” they sing together, voices melting. It sounds so lovely that goosebumps raise all over your arms. “A rose-coloured world.”   They’re swaying, Jimin’s hands placed on her hips. Then Yeonjeoon places her own hands over his, fingers laced together. And she snakes his palms down the curve of her ass. She sways her hips on him. You notice, eyes fixated on that spot, staring.    The song ends, music dying out.   They turn around, gazing at one another.   Jimin leans in gingerly, but Yeonjeon pushes her mouth onto him. They kiss and it lasts longer than ten seconds. Her eyes are shut, holding on the collar of his shirt with her fists, and you even catch the exchange of tongues. It almost makes you want to look away, as if you’re intruding in on a passionate exchange. Almost.   Even the director’s eyes widen and Taehyung is visibly taken aback.   Jimin is the one who pulls away from her abruptly, breath heavy and chest heaving.   “Alright, not too shabby, you two.” The director claps his hands, shattering the tension. “I think it’s good for now. Let’s take a five minute break before we move onto act one scene two.”   People disperse, not thinking much. But your eyes dwell on Jimin. It’s only interrupted when Taehyung steps in front of you. “Hey, Y/N. Do you want to go over your solo now? You wanted to talk to me about something?”   “Yeah, okay…” You tear your eyes away and follow him.   Jimin looks at you from across the room before he moves to the girl in the white dress who’s bending over in front of him to grab her water bottle. “Yeonjeon.”   “Yeah, Jimin?” She smiles, wiping her lips shiny with water. “What’s wrong?”   “That kiss was...a little much, don’t you think?”   “Was it?” Yeonjeon’s lashes flutter, genuinely surprised. “I was just trying my best…”   He nods, understanding where she’s coming from. “I just think it could be a little less intense. Sana seems like a gentle character to Eugene so….”   “No, yeah, I get it.” She bobs her head, eyes glistening.   “I was a little uncomfortable,” Jimin admits quietly.   “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry.” Yeonjeon is modest and sincere, and Jimin appreciates her apology.   “No, it’s alright,” he reassures her. “It’s good to be on the same page.”   “Totally.” Once she nods, the pair of them share smiles.

It pisses Yeonjeon off to see the undeserving reap benefits.   They don’t know what it takes. Their innocence is irritating. They don’t know what she’s been through, what she’s experienced and seen to be able to be on the stage of Broadway. The entertainment industry is dirty, and to see someone ignorant to it all is infuriating.   They’re not worthy to be here. And she can’t fathom that they have the audacity to be lumped on the same level as her.   The girls enter the dressing room, chatting and giggling with each other like bumbling idiots. Yeonjeon glares at them in the mirror and their noises taper off when they realize it’s her.   They lean against the vanity to fix their makeup and she scrolls through her phone to kill time.   “What’s up with you and Park Jimin?” One of them asks after clearing their throat, too curious for their own good.    Yeonjeon answers to entertain herself. “It’s none of your business.”   She scoffs and her ditzy friend asks more straightforwardly, “Are you coming onto him?” The other girl nudges her friend roughly. “What? Am I wrong? She’s totally coming onto him!”   “He’s dating Y/N.”   “So what? That doesn’t matter.”   “You two really have nothing better to do, huh?” Yeonjeon gets up, placing her phone down with a roll of her eyes. She leans on the table with crossed arms. “Park Jimin’s attractive. He’s cute, good looking, and has a kind personality. That’s rare to find in this kind of industry.”   They exchange looks with one another, brows quirked.   Yeonjeon flicks a piece of dirt from underneath her fingernail. “Once you find something you like, you should go get it, right? Now does that answer your stupid questions?”   They’re tight lipped as she walks away, but after a moment, they snicker. “God, what was that?”   “Let’s be honest here, Yeonjeon’s not wrong. How much do you want to bet he’ll get together with her by the end of the production?”   Yeonjeon catches their murmur and smirks.

Jimin can see it in your face. Even though you try to hide it.   You don’t look him in the eye for longer than five seconds. Your nose scrunches every so often like you’re deep in thought. You seem to stare at him longingly when you think he’s not watching — but he’s always been watching you since the beginning.   Dinner’s silence is only broken over your comment. “You seem to be getting pretty close with Yeonjeon these days.”   He makes an effort to hide his smile. It’s not that he finds your turmoil entertaining, but he’s glad that you feel strongly enough about him to be jealous, that you’ve gathered enough courage to even approach the issue instead of skirting around it like you’d usually do. “Well, we’re both playing the main parts.”   “Yeah.” You play with your noodles. “I’m just saying it looks like you two are more friendly than usual. Did something nice happen?”   “No, not particularly.” His lips pout and his pupils flicker up to you. Jimin wants to see how much you’re willing to approach your feelings. “It’s good to get to know the cast members. Makes for better chemistry on stage.”   You hum a low note. It goes quiet again.   But while you’re washing the dishes, you suddenly pipe up, “She’s really nice.”   “I know.” He automatically knows who you’re referring to, but continues to dry the cups and put them back in the cupboard anyhow.    “She’s pretty too, huh?”   “I guess.”   “You guess? She’s gorgeous,” you tell and finish the last of the dishes before turning off the tap.   “You think so?” Jimin accidentally lets his smirk slip. “Why won’t you date her then?”   You open your mouth before closing it. “I don’t want to date her!   “Then are you trying to convince me to date her?” he questions you mischievously.   “No! I just—”   “There’s nothing going on,” Jimin reassures, grabbing your hand, and quickly becoming serious. “Promise.” Yet, there’s still that distraught expression on your face that you think you can hide. “You don’t believe me?”   “It’s not that…”   “Ooh, it looks like you don’t believe me. What have I ever done to make you lose trust in me so easily?” Jimin’s teasing, not exactly upset or angry over it.   And you’re perceptive enough to pick it up as well. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?!”   Jimin giggles and drops his voice down to a low whisper. “Is it so wrong to love when my girlfriend gets possessive over me? Nothing’s wrong with a small, healthy dose of jealousy. It makes everything hotter.”   “You’re ridiculous.” You brush past him, but he grabs your wrist, not letting you escape.   Jimin pulls you closer to him. “How do you want me to prove that I only have eyes for you?”   “You don’t have to prove anything,” you mutter with a pout.   He stares at you through his half-lidded eyes. “What if I want to prove it?”   “Jimin….”   He steps closer and you walk back until you’re stopped by the kitchen counter. His arms lift, hands holding the edge of the counter, cornering you in. Jimin begins to lean in, staring at your lips and your eyes shut…   But you never feel the pressure of his lips.   Your eyes flutter open again and you realize he’s smiling, head tilted, close enough that you can feel his breath, there’s nonetheless millimeters between you both. Even now he’s still teasing. But he’s waiting for you to close the distance.    You huff in annoyance and lean forward, kissing him. Jimin’s smile melts away as he takes it more seriously, locking his lips against yours. He slips his tongue in to taste your own and inhales deeply. Your whimper is muffled and he savours the sound, hungry to draw more of those noises out of you.   He’s satisfied when your whines are made quiet with his tongue. You’re so cute and soft — he can feel the heat of your face, how you shy away only to chase after his kiss when he leans even a little back, how desperate you are to continue.   God, Jimin likes you so much, his chest feels like it can burst.   His lips trail off your mouth, down your jaw to your neck. He sucks spots at the most sensitive parts and has you squirming. He’s always loved how as tender as his touches could be, it still has you reduced into putty.   “J-Jimin.” Your voice is so pretty, singing or not.   Jimin gathers his wits and breaks away while he still can. His hair is in disarray from your grabby hands. “Bedroom or the counter?”   You glance at the kitchen counter behind you and pout at him. “Here’s fine.”   “Yes, ma’am.” Jimin grins, having no reservations to prove to you that no one else matters.   //   As the production of Les Mis ends, the rehearsals for When Summer Meets Winter becomes more hectic. Jimin manages. Things always have a way of working out for him anyways.   But as his schedule clears, he makes plans to invest more time into you. There are countless dates that the two of you haven’t gotten a chance to go on yet — the annual carnival, aquarium, zoo, museums. He’s excited for them. There are so many places he wants to take you.   “So which one are we going to this weekend? The carnival, aquarium, zoo or the museum?”   “It’s a surprise,” he tells you with that cheeky smile of his.   “Hey, Jimin…” The both of you are interrupted with Yeonjeon approaching carefully.   He smiles at her. “What’s up?”   “Do you have an extra copy of our adjusted part? I think I lost it.”   “No problem, I think I have one. Give me a second…” Jimin digs into his bag for the file folder and quickly finds the page. “Here you go.”   “Oh god, thank you. I’m such a klutz. I’m always losing stuff.”   “Same here.” He laughs. “If it wasn’t for Y/N, I’d forget to bring the script every day.”   You smile at him, lolling your head to one side. “That’s not tru—...okay, only a little.”   “You’re so lucky that you have someone to remind you,” she grieves, glancing at you before redirecting her attention to Jimin. “I’m jealous. Sometimes I’m so forgetful I forget to prepare dinner, that’s how bad it gets.”   “That’s happened to me before,” he sympathizes. “I get home and realize I haven’t gotten anything ready.”   “What are you having tonight?” Yeonjeon asks, directly to Jimin and not giving you a place to answer.   “Actually, I don’t know.” Now that he thinks about it, the plan was to cook you something, but he hasn’t gotten a chance to go to the grocery store yet….   “Oh, well, I was planning to get takeout at the bistro down the street, but if you want, we can eat together. Have you ever tried that place yet?”   “No, not yet.”   “Great! It’ll be a good opportunity to get to know each other better and help the whole chemistry of the show. It’s really important that the two main leads have a lot of chemistry.”   It’s not such a bad idea.   Jimin turns to you. “How does that sound?”   You open your mouth to respond, but then you notice the intent way Yeonjeon is staring at you. Maybe you shouldn’t interfere. You don’t want to be a nuisance. They’re the two main leads after all, and you trust Jimin. There’s no reason not to.   “Umm, I think I’m good. I got some stuff to do here and I don’t know when I’ll be done. You two go ahead and have fun.”   “Are you sure?” Jimin stops you.   You offer him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m sure.”   Yeonjeon grins, her smile dazzling. “It’s a date then.”   “Y/N.” Taehyung suddenly sticks his head through the door. “You wanted to talk about the performance?”   “Oh, yeah.” You nod, leaving the two of them.   You can hear their sweet laughter even from down the hall. Somehow, against your logic, your stomach stirs with unease.   //   You prefer Jimin’s apartment on most days.    You love how his scent is surrounded in everything, from the curtains to the cushions on the couch. It’s comforting to be around his belongings, his furniture, everything that’s so intimately Jimin. But when it’s so late at night and he’s not here, you can’t be comforted by his haunting presence and lingering scent.   You wonder what’s taking those two so long. It’s almost midnight and he’s still not here.   But you shake off the feeling. You trust him — there’s not a reason not to. You try to focus on the television show, but it proves difficult when you’re busy staring at the clock.

“Happy hour here is pretty good, huh? Told you so.”   Yeonjeon giggles, the sound gleeful. The pair of them were nursing drinks in a secluded booth in the corner of the bar. The lighting was dim and intimate, and the drinks have made Jimin’s head swirl. Yeonjeon is leaning into him close enough that he could consider how nice she smelled, how pleasant her fruity perfume was.   But he still prefers the lavender scent of your lotion.   “I didn’t know you did community theater for so long?” She stares at him through her long lashes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I really wish I could’ve watched.”   “I’m pretty sure my mom has tapes of it somewhere. She taped all of my shows.” Jimin smiles at the memory.   “Really?” Yeonjeon laughs, hitting his arm gently and her hand lands on his thigh. He tenses underneath her touch.    “It was embarrassing at the time, but I appreciate it now.” He fiddles with the napkin, beginning to sweat.   “What would it take for me to convince your mom to show me her Peter Pan tape?”   “Probably not much,” he admits.   The waitress saunters up to the table with her tray. “Two tequila cocktails?”   “Yes, right here!” The waitress puts it down and walks away. But before Jimin can slide the drinks to Yeonjeon, she moves to the drinks instead.    Yeonjeon shifts right onto his lap. He freezes.   She perches her ass over his crotch. And Yeonjeon squirms, twisting downwards, practically grinding on him.   And that’s the last straw for Jimin.   “Woah! Woah there!” He pushes her off and she falls over onto the booth seat with a gasp. Jimin gets up onto his feet, suddenly alert, shocked sober. There’s no more friendly conversations, no more fun times.   “Jimin!” Yeonjeon collects herself, moving her hair away from her face.   “It’s getting pretty late! I should probably head home now.” He pulls out his wallet, estimates how much it’ll take to cover the costs and then slaps a wad of cash onto the table. “Drinks on me. I had a fun time, thanks Yeonjeon. Take care of yourself now. Get home safely!”   Jimin runs out of the bar like his pants are on fire.   She’s stunned and chases after him. Yeonjeon runs down the street, the crisp air nipping at her nose and she manages to stop in front of him, eyes wide. “Jimin! What’s wrong?” She bats her lashes and grabs onto his arm, shaking it. “Why are you being like this?”   He withdraws his arm from her grasp with an exhausted sigh. “I know what you’re doing and it’s not okay.”   “What am I doing?” Yeonjeon pouts exaggeratingly, her eyes purposely saddened. The act doesn’t work well for her. The only person who can persuade him in such a way is you.   “You’re making me uncomfortable,” he says flat out, finding no way to sugar coat it. “You’re making me very uncomfortable.”   “I’m sorry.” She sniffles. “I didn’t mean to—”   “Doesn’t matter if you mean to or not.” Jimin’s not impressed that she’s keeping up with this act. And the light in her eyes seem to dim as he doesn’t entertain her antics. He makes sure to make it loud and clear. “I’m in a committed relationship, Yeonjeon. I won’t ever like you in that way. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is.”   As cruel as it is, he walks away.   Yeonjeon twists on her heel, watching his backside. Her fists curl and her jaw clenches. “What does she have that I don’t?!”   The shout has him stopping mid-step. Jimin turns around.   Yeonjeon’s eyes sting in humiliation. You’re unworthy of such praise and strong commitment, she can’t understand it. “What’s so great about her? She’s accomplished nothing! Now she thinks she’s hot shit because she landed one role. She was a ghost singer for god’s sake. She never even step foot on stage, so what do I lack that she has?!”   “It’s not that,” Jimin says, “I just really love her.”   He blurts it. The answer comes to him instinctively. Intuitively. It’s the first time he says it out loud, and the realization hits him like a freight train. He loves you. He loves you a lot.   “Y/N is the person I love. She’s the person I want to marry and grow old with someday.”   Jimin smiles softly, looking up at the night sky. The air is cold, but he somehow feels so warm. “It took me a long time to be able to love her this openly, so I’m not going to mess up now. I’m sorry.”   Yeonjeon looks away, rolling her tongue in her cheek. She quickly wipes away a tear as it sheds down her cheek.    “I’m sorry, Yeonjeon,” Jimin repeats in all his sincerity.   It’s not about your accomplishments, where you are in your life, that you were a ghost singer.   Jimin’s with you because he loves you.    “Don’t be,” she spits, not wanting to hear his apology. She can already see the pity on his face, but she doesn’t need it — she’s stronger than that. “You two deserve each other. Pathetic. Hopeless. Fucking idiots.”   A rush of air leaves his nose and he smiles.   Jimin’s not angered by her insults. He recognizes that envy — he’s seen it somewhere before. “I hope we can still be friendly colleagues.”   “You really think I’m going to let this affect my performance?” She lifts her chin high into the air. “Not a chance, Park. I’m a professional, you know. It took my blood, sweat, and tears to get here. I’m not that much of an idiot to waste it all on a guy who doesn’t know who he’s looking at.”   Jimin grins, and she sniffles, flashing him the middle finger. When he laughs, she puts her arm down and they part ways with his promise that he won’t tell anyone about it even though she answers with ‘whatever’.   Jimin walks away with conviction, knowing without a shred of doubt that he made the right decision. But more importantly, he knows he misses you dearly.   //   The door creaks.   You’re sitting on the couch, watching television with your knees gathered together. But when he enters, you turn and instantly a smile spreads into your face. It’s infectious and his own lips tickle.   “What are you still doing up?”   “I couldn’t sleep.” You stand, watching him take off his shoes and coat. “Did you have fun?”   “Not really,” he tiredly murmurs and opens his arms. You lean into him, giving a tender squeeze.   You giggle, looking up at him. “Why not?”   “I missed you too much to have fun.”   “Psh.” You roll your eyes despite a smile sneaking on your features.   Jimin stares at you, gazing at your features, soaking in the pink of your lips to how long your lashes are. It’s quiet in his apartment, merely the sound of your breathing and his joined together. His lips part and he softly murmurs, “Hey. There’s something I should tell you.”   “Hmm?”   “I love you.”   Jimin admits, finally able to say it to the person who should hear it.    A shy smile spreads into your cheeks. Your heart blooms. “I love you too.”  

[lov3nerdstuff]

I Found

*Loki x reader*

Part: 1/8

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: mention of blood, violence, slavery, sexual stuff

Summary: Loki finds himself stranded in Underworld, a kingdom hidden deep inside a desolate planet. In order to survive, he puts himself in the service of the tyrant king, who promises to give Loki his freedom back if he fulfills one simple task. Loki is to set out and bring the mad king his newest toy: You.

~A dangerous, forbidden love. Abduction. Slavery. Tortured conscience. A mad tyrant... Escape?~

Request: A song fic based on 'I found' by Amber Run, requested by @strawberrysandcream 💗 Hope no one minds that I'm making another mini series!

All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!

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It had been weeks since Loki had last seen the sky. Weeks since he had felt the wind in his hair, chilling him in the most pleasant manner and tousling his raven locks even more than they had previously been. Weeks since he had felt the sun's warm rays on his skin, a calming comfort bearing the promise of a day yet to come. Weeks since he had crashed on this horrible planet, been stranded in this place that consisted only of ragged rock and stone. Weeks since he had been brought into the caves, the tunnels and catacombs winding through the entire planet like an anthill, the city underneath the surface of all that cold stone. Weeks since he had managed to gain the favor of the king, pledging his unyielding loyalty to yet another ruler. This was starting to become an infestation in his life, really… changing allegiance like others changed their garments.

Yet, Loki was a smart man, to say the least. He knew what it took to survive in a seemingly inescapable purgatory like this, hell, even profit off it if he went about it correctly. And as long as he sensed a personal advantage, he was all for it. At least until he would see a chance to escape this place without drawing any severe harm to himself.

Thus it was no surprise that after a few weeks of flattery, of strategically placed opportunities to prove himself valuable and of some minor felonies, Loki became a highly valued yet not fully trusted member of the royal court of Underworld. That's what they called their kingdom… Underworld. Not very creative, in Loki's eyes. But the king was a nuisance anyway, a brutal and cruel tyrant one shouldn't underestimate; Loki had learned that quite soon. When the king asked for something, or rather demanded for something to be done, one couldn't refuse. Not if they wanted to live to see another day.

And so it came the day – or night? – when Loki was summoned to the grand throne hall. Honestly, he had lost track of whether it was day or nighttime, for life down here went by different rules anyhow. As he strode through the many narrow, torch-lit tunnels leading from his assigned quarters (a rather small cave that at least was equipped with everything he deemed necessary) towards his place of summoning, he wondered what the king might want this time around. Someone to scratch his back maybe? Or to tell another story to keep him entertained while he dined? Loki snorted at his own thoughts.

Yes, life down here was rather easy for him. He had a bed and a fireplace against the insufferable cold of the eternally ongoing stone, food and fresh water in the plenty. But he knew that not everyone was as lucky. He had been outside of the area one could consider a palace a couple times, and he had returned deeply shaken. The people of Underworld suffered, very greatly so. Certainly, there were always some people in every kingdom who suffered, for that could hardly be prevented for a longer period of time. But here, it wasn't merely some people who suffered. It was THE people. Singular form.

Loki may be mostly concerned about himself and his own affairs and well-being, but he wasn't cruel. He still had a conscience, and a heart… even though he wished he didn't, for it made his life down here so much harder to bear. Yet, he knew that there was very little he could do about that and thus the knowledge that he was highly privileged weighed heavy on his conscience at all times. He just couldn't shake it off, couldn't become the cold and heartless man he pretended to be on the outside.

As he entered the large throne hall, he cringed internally. It was stuffed with prestige objects, valuables from other realms that might have excited him in a previous life, but that now only served to him the purpose of proving the king's vanity. Had Loki himself really wanted to be like that at some point…? That version of himself seemed more distant now than ever before.

"Loki, my friend!" The king's croaky tenor voice greeted him a moment later and Loki flashed his most charming, and most fake smile.

"You called for me, your majesty?" He replied politely, bowing ever so slightly while his stomach turned at the action.

"I did indeed. I need you to so something for me, god of trickery." The king started in his condescending, almost mocking manner that Loki had grown increasingly numb to. "It seems I have broken one of my toys. You are to fetch me a new one."

The words made Loki's blood freeze over and the bile rise in his throat. By the norns, why did it have to be him this time around? He had been able to close his eyes to this before, had been able to block it out of his mind… but now he couldn't any longer.

The truth came crashing down on him like a cave's contraction, crushing him between miles deep of stone. Loki felt sick to the stomach. The king's 'toys' were nothing he wanted to become affiliated with. Poor, innocent girls reaped from their families at any age the king saw fit. And now Loki would become the reaper, if he wished not to be tortured to death.

"You see…" The king continued to speak and drew Loki back out of his mind. "...this is a matter of trust. I trust you, Loki, to bring me the girl of my choice unharmed and untouched. If you accomplish your task you will be rewarded with certain… liberties, in this kingdom. Like the freedom to venture wherever you please. But if you fail to fulfill your task, I'm afraid you will breathe your last."

Loki flashed on of his brightest smiles once more, bowing yet again. "As you wish, your majesty." Then he turned around, trying to convince himself that he was NOT fleeing as he walked back towards the exit.

"And Loki?" The king called out to him again, upon which he turned around with as neutral an expression as he could manage. "My head of guards will see you to the destined girl's residence and detail some men for your protection."

Loki nodded once, then turned back around and his eyes fell upon the swarm of men waiting for him at the entrance. Surely they weren't detailed for his protection, but for his supervision indeed. Obviously he wasn't the first person assigned this task who considered choosing escape over obedience. Oh and Loki wanted to escape, now more than any time before. He needed to come up with a plan of how to get himself out of this mess, and off this planet. Underworld was no place for him to stay.

The first step always was to gather some more information. Thus he took the opportunity of the small army of guards leading him out of the palace and towards the city for some questions.

"May I ask, why does this… reaping require my presence?" He started off, hoping that some easier questions would loosen the tongues of the guards and make them warm up to him.

"He needs someone to take the blame." A guard in simple leather armor answered. "If the people have another face to hate, they won't know that we take the girls for the king. And he likes to play games."

"Charming." Loki sighed, frowning to himself. Of course, if someone to take the blame was needed it would always be him, no matter the realm he was in. How truly wonderful that at least some things never change. He rolled his eyes once he knew that no one was observing him too closely. "How often does he break his… toys?"

"Every couple weeks." Another guard shrugged. "Sometimes he does it on purpose though, when he grows bored of them. Or when they… fall ill."

A very much unwanted shiver ran down Loki's spine, but he kept his cool, knowing that he had to. But he wanted to know more, even if he wished he didn't have to. "What happens to them afterwards?"

"You don't want to know." The guard mumbled in return. "No one wants to know."

"And what happens once we… what are we doing again, officially? Once we reach the girl's home?"

"We escort her back to the palace."

"And then?" Loki inquired further, trying to squeeze as many questions into this unpleasant experience as possible.

"Then she won't be your concern anymore, and you'll be better off forgetting about her altogether. The king is very strict about that."

"Strict about what exactly?"

"Anyone who touches what is his, who lusts for what is his will not live to see any trial."

"A bit possessive, isn't it?" Loki commented sarcastically and one of the guards snorted, only to be nudged in the side by one of his fellows.

Loki sighed to himself. These men knew nothing of relevance and even less of importance.

Thus, all he could do was to let the guards lead him through the maze of tunnels and the differently sized caves, until they halted all of a sudden in a rather narrow tunnel. Loki's brows furrowing in an instant, every fiber in his body on high alert. The dim torchlight danced across the stone walls and created deep shadows in the corners of the tunnel, casting illusions on the rough surfaces.

"You will wait here." The guard in the front spoke to Loki, who only lifted his brows in question. "We get the girl, then we're going back."

Before Loki could complain as for why he had to come all the way here just to wait in the shadows now, half of the guards hurried on into the next part of the tunnel while the rest remained watching him. Now… he could easily overpower them, sure, but he also knew that he wouldn't find his way out of the maze of tunnels alone. He only knew his way around the palace, vaguely, not all the way to the surface of the planet. And being lost down here in the tunnels was probably the only thing worse than being a royal prisoner.

Suddenly a loud scream echoed through the damp and chilled air, reflecting off the stone walls like the light of the torches and creating an eerie sound that made the remaining guards jump. It would've made Loki jump too, had he not spent centuries training his body to react visibly only at his will. Yet, he found the deep silence that followed upon the loud noise to be more sinister than the bone-chilling scream had been in the first place. Nothing good ever came out of a silence as looming as the one surrounding him and his guards at the very moment.

Then, finally the silence was broken by approaching footsteps, and Loki was almost glad that the guards were coming back at last. The first thing he saw was the glow of their torches at the curve of the tunnel, then they became visible as they approached quickly. One guard was carrying a limp body in his arms and Loki's eyes fixed on it immediately. The closer they got, the better he could see the outlines of your small form pressed awkwardly against the guard's feeble body. The poor guy looked like his legs might give out under your additional weight any second and Loki rose an eyebrow at them once they joined his guards in the tunnel. What he did not expect however was that the young man carrying you came straight towards him with a relieved expression.

"You will carry her back." He pressed out, looking like he might just drop you any second now.

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen." Loki replied with one of his signature breathy laughs reserved for internal moments of utter irritation, as he took a step backwards.

"Oh, you must. It's not up for discussion." Another guard said almost lightly.

"Why couldn't you just let her walk on her own legs?" Loki asked in what sounded more like snapping than he had intended. Luckily, the guards didn't seem to care much for his ways of conversing.

"They tend to make too much noise, and struggle more than necessary. It makes things easier to just knock them out for the way." The guard replied calmly. Loki had to realize that this must be a regular thing for them, a routine almost. The thought made his stomach drop and his head hurt.

"I'm going to drop her if you don't take her." The skimpy guard groaned and his legs started shaking dangerous, as did his arms.

"Fine, drop her then. Whatever. Not my problem." Loki commented coldly, looking at the guard in false indifference. He couldn't allow himself to care about anything but his goal of escaping as soon as possible. Everything, and everyone, else was a mere distraction to his own cause.

A few seconds later the guard's arms gave out indeed he dropped your body in an attempt to keep from breaking down himself. Loki watched you falling as if time had been slowed down just to torture him. Even in the dim light he could see your beautiful face, the dark bruise starting to form on your right cheekbone, the slightly parted lips… you looked so peaceful. So innocent. And for the first time in a decade his body didn't obey his reason as he caught you in his arms, only a broken second before you would have hit the ground. Time went back to moving at a normal speed, and he closed his eyes for a second as he stood upright once more, jaw clenching. Damn his conscience, and damn your stupid angelic face! This only made matters more complicated, and he hated it.

"Look who's not as tough as he always carries himself…" A guard to Loki's left laughed, only to find himself pressed against the wall of the tunnel a second later with a blade of pure ice pressed against his throat.

"Be careful who you speak to, and mindful of the ways in which they can kill you." Loki spoke in his most threatening voice as he tried to keep your body balanced on only one arm while holding the blade pressed against the man with the other. Yet, upon the beyond frightened face of the guard, he let the blade disappear again and hoisted you up higher against his chest with both arms. He wasn't particularly strong for a god, but in comparison to the people of Underworld he was Hercules himself, and thus he found no trouble at all in carrying you. What did trouble him a great deal on the other hand was not to stare down at you while they made their way back towards the palace. And not to let himself care.

"What's her name?" He finally couldn't resist asking, already blaming himself for the first signs of attachment forming in his mind. Gosh, he couldn't let himself get sucked into this.

"Y/n." One of the guards answered him. "She has been on the king's list for a very long time."

"And why has he waited until now to reap her? He does not seem like a man inclined to take pleasure in delayed gratification." Loki was beyond careful in wording this statement, for he knew that an insult to the king equalled a self-imposed death sentence.

"She's been hard to find and even harder to capture. Usually the girls he goes for aren't much of a challenge when it comes to their reaping. But this girl, Y/n… she's killed more guards than the beasts living in the caves below our feet!" The guard mumbled in disdain at the loss of his friends. Loki couldn't feel sympathy at all for the men who willingly stole innocent people away from their lives only for them to pleasure the mad tyrant on the throne. In his opinion, every single one of them deserved death more than most people he had killed himself in the past. But he couldn't be the one bringing them their end this time, for he needed to remain in the favor of the king a little while longer.

When he finally allowed himself to look at you, it left him wondering how a person could look so innocent while obviously being so lethal. Somehow, he felt a sense of pride in that, and a sense of very faint relief at the knowledge that you were a fighter. Maybe you could survive becoming the king's new plaything. He felt sick yet again at the thought, and even more so now that he was the one carrying you towards your doom. But he needed the reward he would get for accomplishing this task, he needed the freedom to roam the tunnels of Underworld to find a way to the surface. Maybe he could offer to take you along with him on his escape, if you lived to see that day. The prospect didn't make him feel any better. What he was doing here was wrong, very wrong indeed, and he was well aware of that.

"How did you knock her out?" He heard himself asking as his eyes remained fixed on the gentle curve of your jaw, the bruises and cuts, the dried blood just below your bottom lip.

"Poison." One man answered easily enough and Loki found himself shivering yet again. "So she doesn't run even when she wakes up. The only possible antidote is safely stored in the palace."

"Didn't you mean to say so that I don't run, with her?" Loki snapped before he could keep his mouth shut. How could these people do such cruel things with a smile on their face? Prior to his stay in Underworld Loki had believed himself to be a cruel man… oh how wrong he had been.

Since running with you wasn't an option, because of the poison, and neither was running without you, because of the tunnels, Loki found himself walking all the way back to the palace with you in his arms. He hoped dearly that he could just drop you off somewhere and forget about you for good, but if he was honest with himself, he knew that he wouldn't be able to forget. Not after spending forty minutes carrying you to the point of his arms going numb, after using his own precious magic and energy to keep you from shivering all too badly, after shielding you from the hungry gazes of the guards. Honestly, Loki didn't know why he was doing any of this… developing a weird sense of protectiveness over you only to hand you over like prey the next moment.

Finally, once they reached the gates of the palace, he realized that to him, you were a warning sign. Reminding him that this place was despicable, that he needed to flee as soon as possible, that the king was not to be messed with. Reminding him that if fate had played him any differently, it could very well be him on the throne. A mad tyrant caught up in an illusion and unaware of what he was doing to the people around him. And for once Loki found himself glad that he still had a conscience, still head a heart. Otherwise he would not be any better than the people bringing your doom upon you. Yet, if his conscience kept talking sense to him, he knew that he would lose his mind. Over you.

______________________________

If you would like to be tagged in this series or on the general tag list, tell me in the comments 💗✨ Hope everyone enjoyed this first part!!! Special thanks to @kthemarsian @beenthroughalot @strawberrysandcream

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[harley-quinnn]

Not My Daddy

Joker x  Reader 

Prompt from @lady-of-lies: Well harley, I'm feeling for a x teen!reader (14-15) were she picks the jokers interest (being a master pick-pocket/gymnast or smt) since she has no one else to look after her joker kind of takes her in? Maybe something with the reader wanting to make a name for herself and joker helping her with all she needs to know? And maybe rewarding her with her very first tattoo or hair dye etc? You can make it into separate fics if you want! Have fun! And oh harley? Go crazy!!!

{A/N} I hope you like it! This gave me such “The Professional” vibes and I loved it! If you haven’t seen it, definitely watch it! I will probably add to this as a series of one shots once I get my other requests finished! <3 xo Harley

Warnings: Murder, violence, violence toward a minor for like 3 seconds, kidnapping (sort of?), tattooing of minor, guns. While there isn’t any real suggestive speaking, I left it kind of open to your own interpretation. 

I sat on the stoop of my apartment building. My parents were nowhere to be found as usual, and I had nothing else to do today. Even if I did, I probably wouldn’t do it, anyway. I took a lazy haul off of the cigarette I bummed from an older kid in apartment 48B with no thought other than needing to get the hell out of the place I was at.

My eyes landed on the usual sights before me, cars driving by, people and kids walking with either no direction or a very important place to be. I might’ve been young, but I was cynical. You don’t grow up in the lifestyle I did without knowing the darker side of life.

The cherry at the end of my smoke lit up bright orange as inhaled, but just beyond that, a man in a dark purple trench coat with bright green hair and pale white skin caught my eye. He was barking orders at another man in a suit. I rolled my eyes. What a sight to see. But I recognized him, and I recognized him immediately. The man in the suit had been to my apartment on more than one occasion, waving around a gun and reminding my dad about the money he owed him. I didn’t care enough to pay attention to the rest. When they walked up to the steps of my building, they both looked down at me with different expressions on their faces. The man in the suit cocked a brow. The man with the ice cold stare wore a blood red smile. My skin crawled at the sight. He was terrifying, but still, something about him interested me. I saw a lot of abnormal shit every day, but he was not something I saw every day.

“What do you creeps want?” I asked, rather unbothered.

“You’re {Y/N}, aren’t you?” The man in the suit inquired right back. “J, this is his kid.”

“Oh, now, now, Frost, we don’t ask our payment questions, do we? No, no, no, no… No, money talks all on its own..” The man in the trench coat seemed to purr before snapping his head to look in Frost’s direction “Grab her.”

“Hey! What fuckin’ gives?!” I dropped my cigarette and fought, trying to push back against the man who was now dragging me into my apartment building and up the stairs.

“He’s not home! I don’t even know where he is, but you won’t find him.”

“Shut up, kid,” Frost rasped, almost pulling my arm out of the socket as we reached the 3rd floor.

“Your daddy’s been making some bad business deals.. Now he gets to reap what he sows, and I get to take something of his…”

“He’s not my daddy,” I spat, rolling my eyes as I was being thrust through my front door. “He’s just the sperm donor that got me here.”

They got a good laugh out of that, but I was serious as a heart attack. My dad was swine. They always said a girl could only trust her dad, but I couldn’t even do that. All he ever did was put us in danger. As I evaluated my situation.. Well, case and point. I wasn’t scared, nothing scared me anymore. But I wasn’t prepared to be held for ransom, I had other stuff to do, like hang out with my friends. My dad didn’t have the money he was looking for, I knew this because I overheard him drunkenly screaming at my mom about it just last night before she packed a bag and left.

They walked through my apartment guns blazing, shooting into rooms aimlessly and tearing holes into the already shabby furniture, all the while toting me along with them.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are….” The man in the trench coat cooed, the grin on his face never faltering as he approached my parents room.

Frost kicked the door open, firing another shot into the open air. There was no stirring, but they pushed onward.

“Maybe he isn’t here, boss,” Frost said, furrowing his brow and loosening his grip on me.

“I told you, he left this morning!” I griped, only to be met with a chilling slap to the cheek from Frost.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t used to the abuse already from my own parents, but it didn’t make the sudden contact any less painful as I placed a hand to my temple. These people were strangers, and I was still a stupid punching bag.

“Don’t be silly,” the other man said, making his way to the closet.

He turned to face us, his hand to reach the sliding door. He extended each finger agonizingly slow, placing it against the wood. When his palm was flush with the door, he began to pull it open. There he was, my trembling, pathetic father.

“I knew we’d meet again,” the grinning man said, feigning a sad expression next for just a split second.

“Joker, man, I don’t… I don’t have your money!” My dad cried, sounding far too frightened than even I expected.

It was then that I realized exactly who these people were. The Joker and his right hand, Jonny Frost. I’d read about them in the paper and heard about them on the streets. The darker side of me admired them. While they were criminals, they seemed to take out all the other bad guys in their way, too.

“Blah.. blah… blah…. Bullshit. I gave you two extra days, {Y/L/N}. And you, took advantage of my kind spirit..”

“Please,” my dad begged as The Joker pulled him out of the closet. “One more day, one more! Then it’s all yours, the money is all yours.”

“Ah…. Hmm…” The Joker seemed to ponder his offer before grinning wide. “No dice. Frost, do me the honor..”

And with that, my dad’s brain painted the wall behind him. I was in shock at the sight, though not exactly hurt. I suddenly wished I had the cigarette they knocked out of my hand earlier.

“I thought we were gonna take the kid for the money,” Frost complained.

“I needed more fun than that, more.. More adrenaline!” He roared, throwing the last word out as though it were the most fun he’d ever had, and Frost only sighed and shook his head.

Typical yes-man behavior, I assumed.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” The Joker asked me next, turning around and stepping closer.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I retorted, wincing slightly at the sight behind him again.

“Oh! Feisty... Tell me... are you good for anything?” The Joker asked again.

I thought about what he was saying. Surely he wasn’t trying to take advantage of me, but I had no idea what else he would have meant. After a moment, another thought popped into my head, and since I suddenly found myself completely alone in the world, I thought I’d try my luck at something I’d wanted for a while.

I picked another cigarette from the inside of my combat boot, popping it between my lips and lighting it with a lighter that was laying on my parents bed.

“I can pick locks, pick pockets, lie well and I’ve been in gymnastics since I was five.”

The Joker lifted his non existent brows in a mixture of surprise and being impressed, his blue eyes shifting to Frost’s.

“Oh, and I suppose you think I’ll need a master.. pick pocket,” he spat before bubbling with the same twisted laughter he was known for and quickly settling down again. “I have no use for you.”

I tilted my head, my eyes on his gaze for a moment as I tried to formulate my next response. I didn’t want to be tied down from one shit family to another, and now, he was my only shot at some kind of consistency- whether that was criminal or not. I always wanted to be something more… Being tied to these people would provide me that. Maybe I’d see myself on the news one day.

“The least you could do is bring me with you. You just shot my dad in cold blood,” I said matter of factly, taking a drag off of my cigarette like some kind of adult. “Besides, people would trust me. I’m an innocent face. No one knows who I am. They’d all recognize either of you two, I’m sure.” I looked The Joker up and down.

There was no missing him. Everything about him could be picked out of a crowd. He was unique, and while I liked that, I used it to my advantage in this situation.

“She’s got a point, boss,” Frost mused.

“Of course I do. I don’t talk for my health,” I replied.

The Joker laughed, a hearty laugh that I hadn’t yet heard out of him. I knew then that I had him truly impressed.

“I can’t ignore someone who’s not afraid to talk back to Mister Frost here…” he drew out, eyeing me carefully as my eyes drifted back to my father slumped over on the floor.

“Let’s go,” was all he said, and I was being swept back under Frosts grip and dragged out of my apartment. I stumbled back down the stairs and to the middle of the sidewalk, in plain view of anyone who may have passed by.

“Show me what you got,” The Joker demanded placing a gun into my hand, his eyes shifting around the street before disappearing with Frost to an alleyway behind me.

Sure, I could’ve run. I could’ve run for my life and found something better. I could’ve turned around and shot them both and saved the city from their horrid antics. But being a prospect to none other than The Joker was a little exciting, and lord knows my life hadn’t had any of that in a long time. I was young, but I was already as good as messed up.

Instead, I tossed my cigarette and shrugged my shoulders a few times as I placed the gun under the waistband of my skirt and let my hair out of the messy bun it was in. I tousled it a few times as a man approached me in passing, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“Hey, ‘scuse me, mister,” I called out innocently, and he turned around. “I was trying to find the grocery store and got lost, do you think you can give me directions to 4th?”

He deemed me harmless and nodded, making his way back toward me and pulling up the directions on the iPhone’s screen. I peeked at the alley, seeing them both lingering with their eyes dead set on my every move.

As the man began to explain, I gingerly slipped my hand into his pocket.

“Uh-huh.. Oh, so when I get to Park, I have to go where?” I asked again, quickly but carefully grabbing his wallet and shoving it into my sleeve.

“Oh, so I don’t turn left here?” I asked again, pointing with my other hand as I reached back into his other pocket, pulling out what felt like a pack of cigarettes and a small box.

When I was done, I stepped back, giving my best pageant girl grin and batting my eyelashes.

“Gee, thanks mister. I would’ve been terribly lost otherwise,” I expressed gratefully.

“No problem, kid,” he said, turning back and walking away again.

“Oh, hey! By the way!” I called out to him again.

The moment the man turned around, I pulled out the gun and shot him dead between the eyes.

“Those were the wrong directions, jackass.”

I shoved the gun back onto my hip, and calmly walked back into the alley way. After a few moments, people began to swarm the scene before us. We all watched, not a word said between any of us. I pulled out my findings, examining his wallet, clad with three hundred dollars, a driver's license and some credit cards. The pack of cigarettes wasn’t my brand but I’d smoke anything at this point, and then the box. I opened the tiny box slowly, revealing the biggest carat diamond I’d ever seen in my life. My face lit up in awe, and I gasped softly. Before I knew it, The Joker ripped it from my hand, and shoved it into his pocket.

“He won’t be needing that anymore.. Looks like {Y/N} here let him off the hook!”

“That was mine!” I whispered loudly.

“Not anymore,” he said sternly, and I sighed and leaned against the brick wall. A few more moments passed in silence as the police rolled up to the scene before us.

“You’re in,” was all Frost said, and without another word from either of them, I was being dragged down the alley and into an SUV.

The ride was quiet, too, and once we arrived I was being, once again, dragged into a large warehouse.

“Seriously, I’m not going anywhere, I don’t know why you need to keep dragging me along.”

“We’re not exactly the trusting type, sweet cheeks,” Frost said as he pulled out a chair and pushed me down in it, grabbing my wrist and cuffing me to the nearby table.

“Cool…” I said, looking down at my wrist in annoyance.

When it was certain I was going nowhere, The Joker turned around, giving me a large smile and turning his cheek just slightly.

“Whoop-de-doo… You’re not entirely useless!” He roared again. “But I highly doubt you’re trained enough to be a killer… beginners luck.”

He cracked his neck, a sensual look on his features as though it felt a little too good.

“I’ve watched my dad gun people down and wrap them up in rugs for years. Guess it just transferred.”

I heard Frost chuckle from the corner of the room, and The Joker’s eyes immediately shot to him, shutting him up entirely.

“After a little.. training, I’m sure you could be better..” he trailed off, getting lost in thought.

“What’s in it for me?” I asked, my cuff rattling against the leg of the table.

He eyed me, completely silent. Something told me he wanted to let me under his skin, if even just a little, but he didn’t know how. I didn’t expect one of the highest profile criminals to have a heart, anyway.

“What do you want?” He growled.

I never wanted much. In fact, I didn’t expect him to even ask. I had nothing.

“I like tattoos. And hair dye. And cigarettes.”

He laughed, drawing out each “ha” as though it were all just too much.

“Fine… Training starts in an hour… Do good, and we’ll see. Do bad… and I won’t have any reason to keep you around.”

His voice was dark and gravely, the gruffness not something I was used to. He grabbed a black jacket from another chair and walked toward a door that led deeper into the warehouse.

“Watch her,” was all he said to Frost in the open air as he disappeared.

After a while of radio silence, Frost finally spoke.

“So you weren’t exactly mommy and daddy’s favorite, were you? I bet you gave them a hell of a time.”

“My dad wanted a boy. My mom didn’t want me at all.”

“Poor thing,” he said sarcastically, snorting at what would be anyone else’s misfortune.

“It doesn’t bug me. It taught me to be self sufficient early. Kids my age, they can hardly wipe their own asses.”

He snorted again, shaking his head.

“You really got a twisted way of seeing shit, kid.”

“Isn’t that why you guys gave me a shot?” I asked incredulously before the familiar slow laugh rang through the large, empty room as The Joker appeared again.

“Clever, clever, clever….”

“Are you finally gonna uncuff me?” I asked.

“When I need to, I will,” he said sternly, nodding to Frost, who immediately moved to uncuff me from the table.

When he was done, I rubbed my wrist, a slight frown on my lips. He simply smiled.

“If you’re going to be anything out here in this city, you’re going to need a cleaner getaway than shooting a man and high tailing it into an alley…”

And with that, he turned around, gesturing for me to follow him.

As we walked, he explained to me that it was better to vanish than to hide just feet away from the scene of the crime, unless it was still in the early stages where no one knew who I was. He explained various weapons, what he liked them for and how to use them. And once we reached our destination deeper within the warehouse, I saw a collection of things that looked like they belonged to a woman. There were shoes and jewelry, hats and jackets. Everything was red and blue or red and black, and most everything was surrounded by some kind of weapon.

I immediately scanned through everything visible, sizing up what I could steal for my own without him noticing. I’d always had a thing for the shiny and the expensive. Once he turned his back on me, I quickly and quietly got to work. He went on about the proper way to kill a man with nothing more than a joke and a few mind games, and I snuck around the room, taking everything I wanted and could hide on my person.

I found my place just before he turned around, my lips curving into a smile to match his as I pretended to agree with everything he said. A silence hung in the air before he sat down in a large chair and cracked his knuckles.

“The choker, the bracelets, the credit card, the diamond necklace and the engagement ring from my pocket. You’re going to have to be stealthier than that, sweetheart,” he grinned, his tone like a sweet venom as he opened his hand to take back the things I’d stolen.

I rolled my eyes. Of course he knew. I was too predictable, but with his help, I knew I’d be as wonderfully unpredictable as the best of them. I emptied my boots and pockets into his hand. It wasn’t until I placed the switchblade and the white gun into his slender, tattooed fingers that his entire expression changed.

“Well, well, well… We have a true violent streak after all, don’t we? You took those without my realizing..”

“So what’s my prize?” I asked, my hands on my hips.

He eyed me, clearly uncertain of what I was after. Then, there was a glint in his eye.

“How’s about a tattoo, {Y/N}?”

I couldn’t contain the childish excitement that forced its way to the forefront of my features.

“Yes! Finally!”

He didn’t make another sound. Instead, he stood from the chair and moved to a table in the corner.

“You know,” I said, letting my guard down a little. “I always kinda thought you were cool.”

I walked up beside him cautiously, running my finger over the dusty table. He seemed to tense up, though he didn’t speak a word.

“I wanted to do what you do. Rob banks and kill people. Mostly just the bad ones, though.”

“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to do bad things?” He asked sarcastically, pulling little pots of ink from a drawer, along with a tattoo gun that looked like it had seen better days.

The side of the tattoo gun, had “H+J” etched into it. I wondered who H was as I scoffed at his question.

“He’s not my daddy... But you could be better than him to me,” I paused, briefly unsure of what I even meant. “My father was a piece of shit. But you.. you’re cooler. More fearless. You get what you want. When you want it. How you want it.”

My eyes absorbed his expression, noticing something change in his face for just a split second after I spoke. I didn’t have to be an adult to know whatever I said had struck something in him.

“Sit down…” He rasped, pointing to a chair beside him that seemed to have been painted in blood at one point.

I did as I was told. I moved the chair to sit down across from him, bearing my wrist and pushing my bracelets up further along with my jacket sleeve.

“What can I do for ya…?” He inquired only, his eyes wide with insanity, and his ruby grin even wider.

Something in me wanted to pay tribute to my new found freedom, even if I found it under the command of a new face. I wanted to pay homage to him, for helping me escape what I considered to be a hell hole. Even though he held up a wall between letting me in as his protege completely, unsure of just how to handle someone so young who packed such a punch, I didn’t care.

“I want the card suits. You know, spade, diamond, club-“

“Heart,” he finished for me, his voice gruff. “I know the deal.”

He flashed his knuckles in my direction, wiggling his fingers slowly; each knuckle bearing the same thing I’d just asked for. I gave a tight-lipped smile, nodding once. I had no idea what kind of pain I was going to be in for, but I knew at this point, nothing could phase me.

The needle hitting my skin, leaving little black lines, was exhilarating. It was such a burning, blissful pain that I wasn’t even sure how to handle it. I watched as he worked away, drawing each suit just as I asked. I scrunched my nose a few times, chewed on my lower lip even more, the pain enough to get me to cringe. But once it was over, he wiped away my blood and leaned back in his chair.

I looked at my wrist, happy with my new permanent dedication to my new life. It seemed so perfect; it felt so fitting. Small traces of blood seeped to the surface of each jet black pattern in my skin, and I couldn’t have been happier. There was no concealing the grin I wore as my eyes met his. He opened his arms wide before placing them behind his head slowly.

“Don’t say I never gave ya anything….”

[porchwood]

THG Reread: Interesting Tidbits from Ch 1

Disclaimer: I’ve never taken part in any official THG reread/discussion and I essentially read the book in isolation, so anything I say in these posts may well have been discussed and dismissed years ago.

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim’s warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and crawled in with our mother.

I find it interesting that Prim leaves Katniss to find comfort with their mother, especially since Katniss seems to see herself as Prim’s sole protector and provider. Are Prim and Mrs. Everdeen closer than Katniss realizes (having such an abrasive relationship with her mother as she does) or is it simply that Mom will always be Mom and in a moment of terror most children prefer the embrace of their mother over a sibling?

Also: sleeping directly on a rough canvas-covered mattress? Are bed sheets are that great a luxury in the Seam? :(

I swing my legs off the bed and slide into my hunting boots. Supple leather that has molded to my feet. I pull on trousers…

So she gets out of bed and puts on her boots, then her trousers... So...girl’s a firefighter, right? :D

(Sorry for the crummy pics. Apparently the Tumblr presence of the Emergency! fandom is microscopic at best - I guess that happens with a ‘70s show :P - so these are screenshots I made from the S1 DVD, because yes, I’m that big of an Emergency! fangirl and you can never have too much Johnny Gage!)

It gives “girl on fire” a whole new meaning!! ;D

All merriment aside, we know that fire was a constant danger in the Seam, with its “old wooden homes embedded with coal dust,” so it’s entirely possible that residents slept with trousers and boots in readiness at the bedside, to be stepped into at a moment’s notice for a rapid escape if needed.

I…tuck my long dark braid up into a cap…

This has been discussed in previous rereads so it really isn’t news, but I’d love to see more Katniss-in-a-cap popping up in fics and fanart. THG opens in summertime and she’s still wearing the cap, so it was definitely a staple of her wardrobe! (And it brings us a little closer to the girl-disguised-as-a-boy trope, which is one of my all-time faves! :D)

(Behold this adorable @ghtlovesthg rendering!)

Our part of District 12, nicknamed the Seam, is usually crawling with coal miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour…

Somehow I had always (erroneously) assumed that there was just one twelve-hour shift that all the miners worked (ex. 6am-6pm). Since artificial light would be required inside the mines anyway, I suppose they could work around the clock with no regard to the sun and stars. Folks who live in/near coal mining communities: do they generally operate 24 hours a day or is there some arbitrary cut-off point in the evening? (I’m sorry I’m so ignorant about this!)

Most of the Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to the few of us who hunt…

Has anyone else figured out who these mysterious additional hunters are??

I watch as Gale pulls out his knife and slices the bread. He could be my brother. Straight black hair, olive skin, we even have the same gray eyes. But we’re not related, at least not closely.

First off: it truly befuddles me that Katniss’s hair color is stated on page 8 of THG (though, interestingly, never explicitly afterward) and yet it’s unusual - maybe even rare - to find fanart or even fics that depict her with black hair. Why is that? I was in love with her long black hair from moment one (truly black hair is unique, at least in my part of the world, and so striking to boot) so I probably belabor it a bit in my own writing, but it’s such an exquisite feature, why would you not?

Secondly: “He could be my brother.” That feels significant, and not merely in the “we look alike” sense. I’ve been working on a post about how Gale came into Katniss’s life in a very significant fashion after her beloved father’s death and she was drawn to him because of certain (I would venture to say striking) commonalities, but as I was wrapping it up last night (and sharing various details with my favorite sounding-board @ghtlovesthg), I realized there was a whole - vitally important - flipside to my theory that absolutely cannot be overlooked. So I might not get that finished till we’re on CF or even MJ. (No spoilers just in case someone pips me at the post - pun inadvertent ;) - but I think it’s pretty cool!)

And thirdly, because I can’t resist: I headcanon that Gale and Katniss are cousins through their great-great-grandfather (Galen Greenbrier, if anyone cares :D), who had two daughters (Aisling and Elspeth), who each had a daughter (Wren and Ashpet), who had Hazelle and Jack (Mr. Everdeen), who begat Gale and Katniss, respectively. Ergo: related but “not closely,” per canon. :)

With both of us hunting daily…

I’d always thought Gale and Katniss only hunted a few times a week, with Sundays being their largest haul/best trading day. (“Usually we devote all of Sunday to stocking up for the week.”) I know Twelve is an unusually permissive district at this point in time, but if two Seam kids were sneaking back and forth under the fence every single day and (forgive me) flaunting the fact by selling game in town (and when did they do this? before school, after, both?), surely, inevitably, the Peacekeepers would have been obliged to do something about it. Or were there some trips where Gale and Katniss only brought back enough for their own families, making their illegal activities not quite so blatant?

Cross-referencing with Catching Fire, I find Katniss saying, “Back when we were in school, we had time in the afternoons to check the lines and hunt and gather and still get back to town to trade” - exactly what time did they get out of school and how late were they doing these trades (not to mention, when did anyone get homework done)?? - but she also says it’s “an hour-and-a-half trek” just to check the snare line. I guess it isn’t impossible, but it seems a much more extensive (and time-consuming!) arrangement than I would have thought they could get by with, even in Twelve.

We easily trade six of the fish for good bread…

Like the rest of you, I’m trying to figure out who’s selling this “good bread” at the Hob. For some odd reason, at one point I thought maybe the bakery’s day-olds were sold there, à la:

They could potentially sell said day-olds at less of a discount than merchant clientele would demand but the reduced prices would be low enough for some Seam clientele to afford, and of course, even day-old bakery bread would be superior to homemade tessera bread (and therefore: “good bread”). 

I’m not sure where I got the “bakery outlet” idea (I think it was all the early canonverse fics where Katniss ran into Peeta in the Hob, so I figured he was running a day-olds stall or something) but having been away from it for awhile, I actually kind of like it! :)

You become eligible for the reaping the day you turn twelve.

I’m going to wax exceedingly about reaping ages in another post, but for the moment: I presume this rule means that anyone who turns twelve between reaping days becomes eligible for the subsequent reaping, correct? So if we arbitrarily set the reaping at, say, June 1, someone whose birthday is on June 2 wouldn’t be eligible till the following year. (Which would be especially terrible for your 18-yr-old reaping: being a day away from 19 and freedom, of a sort, but still having to go through one last reaping.) Now I think of it, it’s possible Career districts took advantage of this. Highly invested parents in a Career district could have planned their pregnancies with the intent of a late summer birth (i.e., a month or two after reaping day) so the resulting children would have the advantage of extra months up on other tributes in their same age group.   

On the flipside of this: Prim, whose birthday is in late May, would be an especially young tribute, since she’s only just turned twelve (think school kids with summer birthdays who don’t turn the “right age” for their grade till 1-3 months after school is out), and similarly Katniss, whose birthday is May 8, would be on the young side of the group of sixteens. 

“Pretty dress,” says Gale.

Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if it’s a genuine compliment or if he’s just being ironic. It is a pretty dress, but she would never be wearing it ordinarily. She presses her lips together and then smiles. “Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don’t I?”

Now it’s Gale’s turn to be confused. Does she mean it? Or is she messing with him? I’m guessing the second.

Gaaah, so much going on here! I can’t decide if I want to make a proper Gadge post, so in the meantime, here’s some food for thought:

1) Why does Gale remark on her dress? Really - give me suggestions, because I��ve been turning it over in my head. If it’s meant to be ironic and she gives him sarcasm in reply (as seems to be the quintessential Gadge dynamic :D), it’s odd that he would be confused and not have a volley/riposte/etc of his own on deck. I mean, Katniss doesn’t seem to know (or at least, doesn’t clarify in her narration) whether or not it’s a compliment -

2) Which is interesting, because she guesses straightaway that Madge is “messing with him” in reply. ;)

3) Gale gives Madge what outwardly seems like a compliment and this is what ensues. One might surmise they’ve done this before... :D I mean, if there was no precedent, Madge would’ve just said “thank you” and exchanged money for berries. Since the mayor is such a valuable customer (being one of very few who can afford their asking price for strawberries), it’s interesting that Gale would antagonize Madge and risk losing the strawberry trade - not to mention bringing up the subject of tesserae at the mayor’s back door on reaping day! Does he take similar potshots at other merchants or is it just Madge? Is he irked (even threatened) by Katniss’s friendship with Madge? (I love that Katniss immediately defends Madge in the face of Gale’s tesserae rant. ♡) Does he feel like he can sound off at her (with impunity) because she’s Katniss’s friend? Or is he secretly crazy about her and resigned to the fact that he’ll never get her but the reminders of the impassable gap between them still incense him? Sorry, my hand slipped there for a sec. ;) 

Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected.

I didn’t recall this line from previous reading and it just makes me happy. :)

To my surprise, my mother has laid out one of her own lovely dresses for me. A soft blue thing with matching shoes. [...]  For a while I was so angry, I wouldn’t allow her to do anything for me. And this is something special. Her clothes from her past are very precious to her.

I’d never caught the “matching shoes” bit before! Do you suppose Katniss means dyed [blue] to match/covered with matching fabric (so that’s what they do at the shoe shop!) or simply that they go well with the dress? And if she means that the shoes literally match the dress: is this a particularly special dress (hence particularly special shoes) or is it customary for merchant girls to order shoes to match their dresses?

And further: why this year? It doesn’t sound like Mrs. Everdeen has offered one of her apothecary-era dresses before, which could have been due to Katniss’s repeated rebuffs, but still: why offer one of those very precious dresses this year? Did she have a feeling about this reaping? Or is she starting to see Katniss as a young woman, not just an angry, resourceful child? (Coupled with the fact that she subsequently puts Katniss’s hair up, the latter makes a lot of sense.) 

On a sidenote: Has anyone written meta on the significance/usage of braids in Twelve? (Notwithstanding WTM: Ch 13 and all that Mellark bridal braids/braid coils/engagement hairpin business.) Ex. Does a girl "graduate” from pigtails to a single braid around puberty and then to a crown braid as a young woman/wife, or does she/her mother simply style it however she feels on any given day? I’m just now realizing that I consistently picture reaping day!Prim in pigtails because of the film, but it doesn’t state in the text how her hair is styled, so it might be in a single braid or held back at the temples with a clip or even worn loose.

The square’s surrounded by shops, and on public market days, especially if there’s good weather, it has a holiday feel to it.

I’m really curious about “public market days,” since the Hob seems to be Twelve’s primary market - or at least, has become so in fanon - but Katniss makes a clear distinction between them (“Make only polite small talk in the public market. Discuss little more than trades at the Hob, which is the black market where I make most of my money”). Is this public market like a farmer’s market or a craft fair - or a bit of both? Is it simply the “merchant version” of the Hob? How often are they held? Who gets to sell at this market, and what sort of wares are we talking about? (Is it just merchants bringing their product outside, like a sidewalk sale?) Does the Capitol/Justice Building collect a fee from everyone wanting a stall/booth/table?

Edit: While looking up details for a different post, I found this passage:

Gale and I went to the market on the square so that I could buy dress materials [for Prim].

So apparently they sold fabric and notions in the public market? (Not at, say, a mercantile/general store?) I’m wholly confused now!

[boneslaw]

Prologue

Rendezvous was exactly where you'd expect for this sort of thing. The right atmosphere on the wrong side of town.

We decided to meet at the local pub. Local to me- I'd been doing oddjobs a while. Slick white scars lining my hands, and charcoal under my nails- I made myself a staple in town, saving up for this endeavor. It’d been a long few months but the wait was supposed to be worth it. He'd be breezing through on his way north, in town for one night only. That was his story, anyways. I hoped he'd find the bar alright. The tavern's sign post was stolen ages ago, repeatedly. No one needed it. Those who came through here were creatures of habit. This was a pub that patched itself up with the same lumber its kegs came in. The sickly sweet smell it radiated suggested spilled whiskey kept it together, while the whole thing was wedged in line with the other decrepit, seedier establishments. A hole in the wall in the literal sense, you could worm your way in the broken boards of the neighboring brothel. I used the front door. Lowlights inside distorted the barflies' faces like masks. Smiles turned ominous and anything else went dour. My target was easy to spot among the regulars. Tucked in a corner, he sported a flower in his hat. That was the signal I was told to look for. "Halstead?" I asked, low, just audible over the raucous laughter. The hunched figure ahead lifted two fingers, coincidentally confirming the two things I needed from him: 1. This was the man I wanted. 2. He was in no hurry to advertise it. The two of us had been exchanging letters for some time. This was our first visit in person, and I couldn't say this was the face I'd put to him. His elegant script wasn't indicative of a man who hadn't shaved at least a week. His posture was too poor for the pristine stationary, and his clothes too disheveled for the wit he concluded each message. The petals on his rim glowed in the dark; he must have picked it fresh this morning. It was the only visible evidence he'd seen sunlight in weeks. I offered my hand to introduce myself properly. "Mulligan." He shook it, smiling wide. "Mulligan! A pleasure to meet you in the flesh." "Pleasure's mine. Did you get in well?" "Fairly enough. Nice city, you have." Sarcasm. He's over here because he was inevitably bullied away from the bar at the first syllable of that fancy accent of his. "I can't imagine why you're in a hurry to leave." "We all have our reasons." "I'm sure you do. And Private Ruiz, too?" The butt of my cigar burned bright, an unfortunate giveaway against my otherwise immaculate poise. "I forgot I had given you my nickname." "You didn't." "You're right, I didn't." I took a seat. In the same, harsh exhale that obscured my face I mapped my exits. When the smoke lifted, I found him taking a long draw from his drink, waiting for other shoe to drop. "What do you want?" "Nothing." He gibed. I remained impassive as he reveled in the advantage he'd given himself. I couldn't decipher what it meant yet, and his answer clarified little. "Just to make sure my legacy didn't go toward nefarious means." "Legacy?" His head canted, "Are you saying you didn't look into me at all?" "I did not." Nor did I appreciate the condescension. Those in the business of selling their identities didn't usually have a 'legacy.' Or fame, or anything I usually wanted further insight into. Only ghosts. I left mine scattered across the states. Everywhere from a hole 200 feet in the Earth to the shores of Morehead, but if I've learned anything, it's that they are confined to their haunting grounds. They hitch a ride in your psyche only if you let them. I didn't- but I was there for those who couldn't shake the shadows behind them. It was counter intuitive for me to look deeper into a name than where it can get me. If they were running from something, why would I seek that something out? No. I needed prominent people, with prominent identification to successfully do what I needed to do. That's it. These meetings always ran the risk of going this way, but I'd been 'lucky' so far. It's a term I use lightly. I smothered my cigar before the blasted thing gives me away again. Getting to the point, "I want what I came here for. Or to be arrested. Whichever you had in mind." He laughed mirthfully and I caught the glassiness in his eyes. He's drunk but wears it well. I can outrun him. But instead of pushing it or telling me anything else I already know about myself, he slid a folder my way. "Sorry. I couldn't help having a little fun. Here." I flipped it open, looking between it and him. Inside was what I came here to retrieve. A passport. With it were our letters, returned as a show of good faith. Beyond that, a little something extra. Further pages were marred with whatever poison he had been drinking all night- the last of which was a page outlining his apparent accolades. This was bestowed upon by a governor, it's prestige too great for the disrespect it'd been paid ending up in this condition. In this bar. In my hands. "What's this?" His gloating turned to disapproval, face falling as if to say 'Read it, dumbass.’ "Detective Halstead." I hedged. "That'd be me." "Active?" "Not advised, this side of the Mississippi." A closer look revealed it true. Everything inside was stamped hundreds of leagues away. But why? "What do you think?" He baited. I remained quiet. I couldn't tell. My mind was going in too many directions at once. Too many mixed signals. I think I've been caught. I think that there is now a barmaid blocking the nearest exit, and I think Private Ruiz is AWOL to the second power, and Arthur Mulligan- Well Arthur Mulligan didn't do anything wrong, except have a wife who is dangerously good at tracking. (Mrs Avery Mulligan is an exception to the ghost rule. Hot on my coattails, I haven't lost her since Tennessee- she's after child support I don't have. The kids look nothing like me.) And beyond that is more than I wanted to deal with, at any capacity. I have too many loose ends, and not enough incentive to face prosecution for anything I've done or the actions of my lives before I've reaped them. "Are you with the military?" I finally asked, getting to the crux of it. "I'm not here for your desertion, Private." Loaded question. That told me how deep his information goes. Confident now, I rose from my seat abruptly, taking care to note that no bodies around me jumped too. Not even Mr.Halstead. "What?" His cocky bubble burst. "Did I scare you?" "What is your ploy?" "The original plan." His finger traced the rim off his glass. Fake as his smile, it didn't sing. "I don't have a ploy. No ulterior motive. Nothing except I intend to be on the first train out in the morning, coffers full." "And your 'legacy'?" "Dead to me. Maybe it'll be better use to you." "Why?" "We all have our reasons." That couldn't have been more ominous. There were plenty of reasons to walk. Beyond minor inconvenience, there was nothing stopping me from truly progressing with what I had except...stagnancy. I'd be fine as Arthur another few months, a static vaguely somebody doing what work he could around the state- Or I could do more. Charlie promised he had something good for me, and by god he delivered. Alarm bells told me this was a bad idea, but those bells had been playing since I left home. Looking between him and his credentials, it was my most ambitious break yet. Did I want to let that go so easily? "Well?" He offered, one last time. I paid him in full. - - - There was always a trial period between new identities. Before I slipped into the cold shoes of someone else, I wanted to make sure I could fill them. Insurance, if there were to be any. Halstead didn't intend for me to usurp his position. It was an idiotic move given his reputation. The extra bits were probably just given to me because he was arrogant like that, but digging up dirt would be the confirmation I needed for his mantle in full. I was sure he'd hate me doing this too, which was all the more motivation. I backtracked from the governor's letters. Letter after letter, telegram after telegram, I matched the names up to cases, and the cases stacked together to form the former life of a prosperous detective. Charlie Halstead grew up in a small town, child of the deputy. His parents put him through private school. No record of a sweetheart but between cracking cases like the Disappearance of Anna Louis, to the Robbery of Welton bank, to shutting down a smuggling operation along the Idorough river there wasn't time. A local legend, until the height of his career ultimately led to its plummet "Jesus Christ." My ash singed the results. He fell hard. Very hard. Borderline sociopathic criminal, or in the very least giant asshole. He left everything because it was a liability. Being him meant trouble- more than me being me did. He wriggled off the hook by the skin of his teeth, legal technicality, and a pinch of nepotism, but no one really escapes public scrutiny. He must've realized this when he couldn't find work in the town he was once beloved. When people spat at his face, or crossed the street to avoid his path. I wouldn't want to be him either, and I just dumped my savings into it. My first reaction was to take the loss. My second reaction, however. My second was to seize it. He could have got another identity if he wanted. Could have easily abandoned his in pursuit of something quieter, quainter, and out of the public eye- but I think he wanted his name to ping on the map beyond him. Maybe let rumors of him bleed across the US, until his infamy died with his obscurity. I was a tool in this way. A pawn- But whatever his reasoning was, it no longer mattered. I saw potential. I took his accomplishments and did away with the rest- something he himself could never do. This life was a new avenue to pursue. An exciting one, with the most advanced resume I've acquired to date. I could use this. I could be this, and I decided to prove it to myself with the last dregs of my cash. A name like this could take me anywhere if I was smart about it. Even if I couldn't trust my fortunes, I could trust myself. My ad was in the paper of a new town the following day. Charlie Halstead, detective for hire.

[isolavirtuosa]

Starting Over (For Real?) 39-40

[fanfiction] NaruSasu

Read the previous parts here.

- 39 -

  “So you’re just adding random people to our team?” Sai asked as he dodged my kick.

I landed behind him and gave him an incredulous look.  “We all traveled together for months…  You were on a team with him before that…”

“Sure, but I feel like our group has developed a certain dynamic and we need to be careful in its preservation,” he said, disappearing and reappearing above me.

I leapt up to meet him in a flurry of taijutsu.  “So basically you’re jealous.”

“Jealous, ha!” Sai said, getting in an unexpected kick to my leg.

I flinched, but it wasn’t a vital spot and I renewed my attacks with a fury.

Sai parried easily, unperturbed by the conversation we were having.  “Well, okay, maybe I have some feelings of insecurity.”

“And what would those be?” I asked, pulling back enough so I could take out my kunai and launch them at him.

He smoothly avoided each one while simultaneously launching his own weapons.  “It’s one thing for you to talk about Naruto all the time.  At least we’re together and bonding.  But when he’s physically around, he’s always first and only.”

“First and only?” I repeated, not liking that turn of phrase at all.  “I have a life outside of Naruto.”

Sai gave me the sassiest look possible and I attempted to punch the look off of his face, but he dodged too quickly.

I considered speeding up, but I didn’t want to make our training session too serious.

He took advantage of my consideration, ink flying over his scroll and sending a flock of birds at me with exploding tags.

The easiest way to get out of this would be to use Susanoo.  I wasn’t looking for an easy way out, though.  I summoned as many kunai as I could, using precision and speed to knock down every bird before they could reach me.

Sai crossed his arms over his chest.  “Are you even human?”

“No,” I said, pushing my bangs off of my forehead and showing off my small horns.

“Tch.”

As entertaining as Sai’s sulking was, we were in the middle of a fight, so I pulled my sword from my back and charged at him, disappearing when I was right in front of him and flying at him from behind.

Sai whirled around, countering with his short sword.  “So as I was saying…”

I rolled my eyes, putting more force behind my attack.  “Oh, please do tell me what you were saying.”

“When we were in Water...” he said, grunting and using force to push away from my parry.  He suddenly disappeared.

I jumped up into the air as Sai suddenly appeared from the ground, barely avoiding the slash of his sword.

“…you were going on and on about how you and Naruto weren’t compatible and that he couldn’t deal with who you really were and that he was definitely going to dump you when we got back here-”

“I do not go on about things,” I interrupted, kicking him away from me and immediately going in for the kill.

Sai kept the momentum from my kick going and propelled himself backwards.

My sword still caught the barest graze across his bare stomach.  “And that’s why you should wear a whole shirt,” I said, feeling satisfied.

“Says ‘Titties Out Uchiha’,” he snorted, drawing himself a bird and taking to the air.

“Do you see any attacks landing on these titties?!” I yelled back at him.

Sai laughed and cheerfully sent a tiger after me.  “So you were going on and on about the end of your relationship, and the second you two see each other you’re engaged and moving in together.”

It took me a few minutes to slit the ink tiger’s throat.  I sheathed my sword irritably.  “It was impractical for me to have my own place.  And we’re not engaged; we can’t get married.”  Then I melted Sai’s stupid bird with a katon.

“I think you really want to get married!” Sai laughed, scribbling another bird in mid-air and catching himself.

“I’m nineteen!” I snapped.  “And gay.”

“Gay people can’t want to get married?”

I glowered up at him.

“You and Naruto are the strongest power couple this world has ever seen,” Sai said, casually throwing some kunai at me.

I back flipped out of the way.

“I think you two pretty much get to decide how the world works from here on out.”

“That’s not how life works,” I said

“Speaking of your honey…”

We both cast wary glances toward Naruto as he appeared beside Sakura on the training grounds.  Then, both thinking the other was distracted, we simultaneously launched attacks.  Our swords locked, Sai grinning all the while.

“Do you think this display of testosterone will increase his desire to mate?” he asked cheerfully.

“Do you think my foot in your face will make you shut the fuck up?” I asked, kicking at him irritably.

“You’d have to actually connect your foot with my face to find out!” Sai cackled as he dodged.

I upped my speed and caught him from behind, giving him a nice kick in the rear and sending him flying.

The dickhead was still laughing as I landed on top of him and pointed my sword at his throat.  “Is losing that funny?”

“No, but you losing your cool is,” Sai laughed, wiping at a tear welling up in his eye.  “Oh, Uchiha, you are very riled up for no reason.”

I scowled at him.

“You should think about why you’re like this,” he said, pushing the sword away from his neck and sitting up.

“Better than you at fighting?” I asked.  “Because I’m a god.”

“Ho boy,” Sakura said as she approached.  “I’d like to see you fight that freaky all-powerful farmer.”

“Anytime,” I said, which was really just bravado, because that ridiculously powerful ninja we’d run into in Water was probably stronger than both Naruto and I.

“Hey,” Naruto said with a dopey smile.

I looked at him awkwardly.  I still hadn’t figured out how we were supposed to behave in public.

“You should just kiss,” Sai whispered in my ear.

I elbowed him away.  Then I really looked at Naruto and Sakura, standing next to each other and looking normal.  “What is this?” I asked, gesturing to them.

Naruto shrugged, looking abashed.  “We thought we could all grab dinner together.”

“You and Sakura thought that?” I asked.  “Together, while having a conversation?”

Sai let out an exaggerated gasp.

I loved his new personality when it wasn’t aimed at me.

“Yes, we did,” Naruto said, trying to look defiant.

Sakura rolled her eyes at him.  She had endured his cold shoulder for months, and at some point during the mission in Water she’d stopped feeling guilty.  Since we’d come back, she’d been clinical and aloof with him, and it was definitely wearing Naruto down more effectively than constantly asking for his forgiveness.

“Is Karin coming?” Sai asked, glancing around.

“She said she wanted to talk to Temari and catch up with us later,” Sakura said.

I started gathering my hair that had fallen loose up into a new bun.  “I need to wash up.”

“Okay, so why don’t we meet up in about an hour?” Sakura suggested.

“Sounds good,” I said, moving with Sai back towards our apartment building.  I expected Naruto to follow.

“We’re gonna um… go for a walk,” Naruto said.

I glanced over my shoulder at Naruto and Sakura, him looking nervous and her looking cool.  “Okay,” I said, nodding at them both.  If they were working things out, I was going to keep my snarky mouth shut and let them do what they needed to do.

Naruto was back at our place after about thirty minutes, his mouth pulled tight and his eyes downcast before fixating on the fact that I was just wearing a towel while I blow-dried my hair.

“You look like a creep,” I informed him as I turned off the hairdryer and put it back under the sink.

“You look… wet…” Naruto decided.

“That is inaccurate,” I said, moving into his room to change.  When I came back out, he was belly-flopped on the couch, looking despondent.  “What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting on his back.

“Oof,” he grunted.  “You know… Sakura and stuff…”

“You’ve stopped being angry with her for trying to keep us from leaving the village?” I asked.

“For joining a corrupt ANBU team sent by the man trying to kill us?” he tried to correct me.

“Kill me, Kakashi, and Sai,” I corrected him.

He sighed into the couch cushion.  “Whatever.  Yes.  I just want her to forgive me for not forgiving her.”

“Looks like you’re reaping what you sowed.”

“Yeah, I get the irony,” he groaned.  “I mean, she forgave you for trying to kill her multiple times.  You guys seem better than ever.”

“We are,” I agreed.  It was true that travelling with Sakura for half a year where she saw me as an actual human being and I saw her as one as well had done wonders for our relationship.

“Sakura’s important to me,” he sighed, trying to roll over to face me.

I stayed sitting on him.  “Then you need to give her time like she gave you time.”

“Well, we’re all going out to dinner tonight.”

“And Sakura can sit on the other side of the room from you and talk to everyone else but you like you did to her.”

Naruto grumbled and bucked his hips to get me to move.  “You know, even if you’re right, you’re supposed to lie to me in times like these and tell me that Sakura and I are going to make up and that everything is going to be okay.”

“You and Sakura are going to make up,” I said, standing and ruffling his hair.  “And everything is going to be okay.”

He blinked, not sure how to take that.

“Where are we going to dinner anyway?” I asked, moving towards the door.

Naruto scampered after me, catching me by the waist and nuzzling my neck.  “Mm, some family-style place with private rooms.”  He started kissing down my neck to my shoulder, sliding cloth away to give his mouth access.

“Are you getting it out of your system before we go out in public?” I asked, trying to sound in charge even as my lips were parting and my eyelashes were fluttering.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s working,” he said, kissing his way back up my cheek and carefully readjusting my clothes.  “Now I just want to stay here and not go out in public at all.”

I reached back and caught his nose, tugging it.

“Hey,” he said, but he was smiling at me.

“We don’t want to be late,” I said.

Naruto nodded obediently, and we went into the hall to go get Sai and go.  Sakura, Karin, Shikamaru, Ino, and Chouji were supposed to meet us at the restaurant.

“Nice night…” Naruto commented into the silence of our walk.

“It’s still a little cold,” Sai countered.

“Then stop dressing like a prostitute,” I put in.

“I’m not taking that from knot-in-the-front, pull-for-your-pleasure Uchiha,” Sai scoffed.

“I bet you’d love to take it,” I scoffed right back.

Naruto blinked, his mind slowly trying to unravel the rapid-fire banter between us.

“Your lover doesn’t approve of this conversation,” Sai said, shaking his head.

“Are you two… flirting?” Naruto asked, confused.

“No,” I scoffed.

“A little,” Sai said, grinning.

Naruto looked more confused and a little upset.

I rolled my eyes and reached out to squeeze his hand briefly before quickly retracting mine away.

He was not pacified.

We were quiet as we followed the waiter to our table.

“Hey, you’re here!” Ino said cheerfully as we came in.

I hadn’t seen Ino since we’d woken up, but she apparently wasn’t holding any grudges.  Then again, we were all defectors now.  If they weren’t going to be mad at me about my past indiscretions, I certainly wasn’t going to care that every person in this room besides Naruto had at one point wanted me dead.

Naruto let me take the seat at the end of the table so I could be comfortably antisocial with him as my buffer.  He slid an arm around the back of my chair as he sat next to me, to which I raised an eyebrow but let it slide.

Karin was across from me, sunk into one of her silences that had been becoming more and more frequent lately.

“Did you discover the cure for white zetsu disease?” I asked her.

“Huh?’ she said, coming out of a daze.  “Oh, not yet.”

“Do you really think staying here is going to make any difference?”

“Well, there’s two test subjects,” she said with a shrug.

“Test subjects,” I repeated, trying not to smile too much because Naruto loved both of those test subjects.  “Well, I’d rather you come with me.  We could use your tracking ability to find Juugo and Suigetsu.”

“Only if they’re nearby,” she said with a shrug.  “Besides, I don’t want to hose in on your little sausage party.”

“Oh, Karin,” I sighed.  “The sausages are not so little.”

She cracked up.

Naruto turned from the conversation he was having with Chouji to give me a funny look before going back to it.

“Are we talking about dick size?” Sai interceded delightedly.  “That is a topic that brings about great male bonding!”

“Sai, we’ve talked about this…” I said.

“Yes, complimenting the size is positive male bonding and denigrating the size is how we haze one another for bonding.”

“And…?”

“And women do not have penises,” he said, nodding assuredly.

“Why are you three always talking about penises?” Sakura hissed under her breath.

“It’s a funny topic of conversation?” Karin suggested.

“Great for male bonding!” Sai reiterated.

“I’m gay,” I said with a shrug.

Sakura rolled her eyes.  “Well maybe it’s not appropriate dinner conversation.”

“Boo,” Karin said.

“Come on, Sakura, we all know you have the biggest dick of all of us,” Sai said cheerfully.

“Sai,” I said, shaking my head.  “Women do not have penises.”

“But Sakura-”

“Is a biological woman.”

“But-”

I didn’t have to say anything, because Sakura was giving Sai the noogie to end all noogies.  It looked painful.

Naruto was looking at us funny again.

I could feel my mouth pulling into a frown.

Blue eyes met mine, crinkling in confusion.

I turned back to the nonsense.  “Sakura, enough, you know he isn’t a real person.”

Sakura sighed and sat back in her chair.  “That’s true.”

“I was just trying to flatter you,” Sai said.  “Everyone knows that I have the biggest dick in the group.”

I tried not to laugh.  “No one knows that.”

“We have all been to the baths together,” Sai pointed out.

“I’d need to see it fully erect to make a proper judgement,” I said.

Naruto started choking on his food.

I looked at him.

He picked up a glass and started chugging water, continuing to cough.

I gave his back a sharp pat and something dislodged.

“Thanks, Sas’,” he said, giving me a tired smile.

I wanted to call him out on his jealous nonsense, but I realized I could do it in private when we got home since we were inexplicably living together.  I turned back to my… friends… and I had a nice evening.

 - 40 -

  “I’m not jealous,” Naruto lied, peeling his shirt over his head and tossing it into the hamper.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, moving towards the bathroom.

“I’m not!” he called after me.  “You don’t even let me touch you; you’re sure as hell not going to let Sai.”

I rolled my eyes.  “It’s not a sexual thing.  You’re jealous emotionally.”

Naruto appeared behind me, picking up his toothbrush.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you think you’re the only person who can make me laugh,” I said.

He started sputtering around his toothbrush.

“You think you’re the only person I can trust, the only person I can really talk to,” I continued.  “Because you used to be.  And now you’re not.  So get over it.”

“What the hell, bastard!” he complained, waving his toothbrush around.  “I don’t… I mean…”

I spit into the sink and rinsed my toothbrush.  I grabbed some pins from the side of the sink and started pulling my bangs away from my face.

“I’m… happy that you have friends,” he said quietly.  “I’m happy that you have people that make you smile and laugh and all that.”

“But…?” I said, leaning over the sink to wash my face.

“It makes me feel… I don’t know…” he trailed off.  “Really far away?  Like there’s this part of you that I don’t even know.”

“Then get to know me,” I said with a shrug, grabbing my towel and patting my face dry as I moved away from the sink.

Naruto sighed.  “But we’re supposed to be soulmates.  We know everything about each other!”

“That’s just creepy,” I said.  “I don’t want you to know everything about me.”

“But…”

“Naruto, I feel like I’m always losing myself in you,” I said, hanging the towel up again and moving to leave.  “I want to have some piece of me left.”

“Sasuke…”

This was getting far too deep.  “I’m going to bed.”

“Scaredy cat,” he muttered, finally remembering to finish brushing his teeth.

I got into Naruto’s narrow twin bed, and not for the first time regretted moving in here.  There was no escape.

Naruto came clunking back into the room, the noisiest ninja I’d ever met, then got into bed, immediately close and warm and overbearing.

I turned around to look at him.

He was looking at me, eyes soft but lips pouty.

I gave him a begrudging kiss, because fuck it, I loved living with him and being able to just roll over and kiss him anytime.

“Sasuke?” he said quietly, curling his fingers into my shirt.

“Yes?”

“I guess I’m jealous of you and Sai.”

“Finally.”

“And of you and Karin.”

“…of Karin…?”

“And you and Sakura.”

I thumbed along his jaw.  There was a little scruff under his chin that he’d missed shaving.

He sighed.  “I felt like you all were acting like kids today.”

My hand paused.

“But then I realized I just wanted to join in… to be a part of the group…”

“Naruto,” I said, staring him in the eye.  “You are always the center of any group.”

“But I’m not anymore,” he said, shaking his head.  “I don’t… I don’t belong anywhere.”

“That… is crazy,” I decided.

“No, it’s not,” he replied, flicking me in the chest.

I raised an eyebrow.

“You’re just so blinded by your endless love for me that you can’t see reality,” he explained.

“Ha,” I said.

“It’s true.”

I thumbed up along his cheek.  “You need to stop acting like a jaded forty-year-old man.”

“It’s kind of ingrained in me.”

“Stop,” I repeated.

He pouted and nudged his nose into mine.  “The only place I know I belong… is with you.”

“You do say the most ridiculous things,” I told him.

He tugged on his necklace.  My necklace.  “Am I… too much?  I mean, I proposed to you…”

“Yes, you’re too much,” I said.  “But it’s fine.  I need… it’s fine.”

“What do you need?” he asked, curling his fingers around the necklace.

Your constant love and assurance no matter what I do or say so I can breathe, I thought.

“You can tell me,” he said very softly.

I can’t give you that much power over me, I decided.  “I love you,” I gave him instead, closing my eyes.

I could feel his smile as he kissed my eyelids.  “I love you, too.”

I’d said it twice now, but it still made me anxious.  I hugged him, letting my face slide into his neck.  Not that I was hiding.

“I never thought you’d be shy.”

I bit him for that one.

Instead of making an angry noise, he made a very sexy noise, so I kissed it better.

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed into my hair.  “I like learning new things about you.”

“You haven’t learned anything,” I mumbled into his skin.

He leaned his cheek into me, kissing my temple.  “I wish you trusted me more.”

“I always trust you,” I muttered.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you don’t,” he said.  “That’s why you’re never honest about your feelings.  It’s like you think I’m going to take them and hurt you with them.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said, because it was completely true.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, not actually sounding like he agreed with me at all.  “I’m just saying… you could… lower the wall a few centimeters… for an hour or two…”

I felt a stirring of annoyance.  “I just told you something I’ve only ever said once before, and your greedy ass can’t be satisfied with that?”

He actually seemed chagrined.  “Sorry, you’re right.  You say those three little words and my brain goes to mush.  I just want more and more.”

“Gay.”

“You need to stop self-slurring.”

“Self… slurring…?”

“Yes.”

“Naruto?”

“Mm?”

“Just be quiet and handsome.”

“I’m handsome?!”

“No,” I said, then amended it with, “a little bit.”

“You are so frustrating,” he said, lifting my chin.

I looked at him, my eyes starting to droop.

He kissed my lips very softly.  “Go to sleep, my love.”

I moved my lips sleepily against his.  It felt warm and comfortable.

He smiled into my mouth.

We exchange slow, lazy kisses, sometimes our mouths barely moving as we both started to drift off.  I just didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to lose the contact, and at some point we were kissing and the next we were waking up to sunlight filtering into the room.

“Too close,” I mumbled, turning my face away.  We apparently hadn’t moved all night, which seemed impossible since Naruto was such a restless sleeper.

“Morning, love,” he hummed, cuddling in closer like we weren’t already close enough.

“Good morning,” I grumbled.  I hated mornings.

“What are you doing today?” he asked.

“Training with Sakura and Sai,” I said, closing my eyes.  “Gathering supplies.  Getting ready to leave.”

“Mmkay.”

“Where’s Kakashi, anyway?” I asked.  “I thought he would be all over us after we got back, trying to teach us his lessons and impart his wisdom.”

“Oh,” Naruto said.  “You don’t know.”

I cracked an eye open and looked at him.  “Know what?”

“He gets completely wiped out when he uses Kamui to move people over long distances,” he explained.

“Oh…” I said.  “Then why did he offer to get us?”

“He didn’t want to risk anything happening to you between Water and here.”

“What could possibly happen?” I scoffed, but now I was vaguely worried about Kakashi.

“Konoha ANBU, that super ninja guy, the anti-ninja God Trees…” Naruto trailed off.  “You should stay here.”

I rolled my eyes, finally starting to wake up.  “You want me to be a restless caged animal like you?”

He frowned at that.

“That’s why we’re both going to Lightning,” I said, pulling on his nose.

Naruto pounced on me.

I blinked up at him.

He stared me down.

“What is this sudden assertion of dominance?” I asked, amused.

He looked flustered at that.  “I, uh…”

“Stop doubting your instincts.”

“I don’t know how to trust them,” he whispered.

“You really don’t,” I complained, rolling him on his back and sitting on his stomach.  “What are you doing today, Naruto?”

“Uhh, I dunno, I have to talk to Temari and Shika,” he said.  He looked very confused.  “There are some new refugees to meet with, and I probably have to talk to the Council…”

“Are they worried about the fact that you’re running this village instead of their acting kazekage?” I asked.

“No…?” he said, frowning.

“Or are they worried that you plan to take a leave of absence from your kazekage duties to run around with your faggot boyfriend?”

“Sasuke,” he said, sounding like an irritated dad.  “Why do you have to talk about yourself like that?”

“Why do you have to get distracted by such trivial details?”

“Because you like to act like you’re so comfortable being gay, but you’re always… attacking yourself.”

“I’m reclaiming the word.”

“You’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know how much you hate yourself.”

“Shut up,” I said, giving him a shove in the chest and getting out of bed.  My body thrummed with invisible energy.

Anxiety.

I wished he hadn’t actually shut up as I disappeared into the bathroom.  I stared at the toilet a moment before moving to do my business.

The door flew open.

My eyes snapped to Naruto’s incredulously.

“Look, I-” he started to say, but then his eyes zeroed in on my dick.

My look got even more incredulous.

“I didn’t-” he started to say.

“Get the fuck out!” I snapped.

He did, closing the door behind him.

I couldn’t even pee after that.  I readjusted myself and thoroughly washed my hands before stomping into the kitchen.

Naruto was at the stove, cooking in a manner that could only be described as sheepish.

“We are not at the using-the-bathroom-together stage of this relationship,” I growled.

“Sorry…”

“This is not working out,” I informed him, moving towards the coffee maker, but Naruto had already started it.  I set the table instead.

“If I said that to you, you would probably internalize it and be crying on the inside,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

Naruto shrugged, stirring the food.

“Is your goal to pick a fight with me?” I asked irritably.

“Is your goal to pick a fight with me?” he shot back.

“…maybe.”

He laughed at that, deep from his belly.

I glared at him.

“C’mere,” he said.

“What?  Why?”

“C’mere,” he repeated.

I only went over because I’d finished setting the table and had nothing better to do.

His hand was occupied with the stove, but he leaned back and gave me a smooch.  “I love you, even if you’re an asshole.”

“So you get mad at me for being an asshole, but then you call me names…?”

“Touché.”

I looked at him.  “Do you want me to change?”

He blinked.  “…no…?”

“Then…?”

“I’d just like you to be more… considerate.”

“That sounds like changing.”

“It does not,” he said, focusing his attention back on the stove.  “You’re straightforward, but you don’t have to be mean to get your point across.”

“I don’t think I’m being mean.”

“Babe.”

I frowned at his back.

“I’m not as secure in our relationship as you think I am,” he said quietly.

That took me aback a little.  “I’m sorry, are you not the person who just proposed marriage to me the other day, despite the fact that men cannot even legally get married in our society?”

“I’m all in,” he said with a shrug.  “I never know about you, though.”

Uzumaki Naruto was the most infuriating person I had ever met.  “How can you not know?” I ground out, feeling insulted.

He turned off the stove, but stood there for a moment like he was deep in thought.  “Your Uchiha way of expressing how you feel… I don’t get it.  I just don’t.  You give me scraps and expect me to understand that they’re big and meaningful.  And I’m starving, so I just lap them up, but when I’m finished, I’m still starving.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Naruto took the pan off of the stove and brought it over to the table, scooping the food onto the plates.  “Come eat before it gets cold.”

I’d told this idiot twice that I loved him and it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Stop pouting,” he said, nudging my foot under the table.

“I do not pout, Uzumaki,” I said, stabbing my food with more force than really necessary.

He shrugged and kept his foot where it was.

This jackass was playing footsie with me.

“I adore you,” he said with a mouth full of food.

“I tolerate you,” I said, then thought about it.  “I… appreciate you.”

He grinned at that.  “I’ll take it,” he said, getting up and pulling down some mugs for the coffee.  He poured us each a cup and brought them back to the table.

Our hands brushed as he handed me my cup.

Naruto grinned at me bashfully, and it was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen in my life.

Maybe I could actually not be an asshole to him and our relationship would work itself out.