#if they knew how to actually treat patients id probably be better by now

[fallenwhumpee]

"How long have you been like this?"

June 18: Fall | Sleep Deprivation | Bankets • Masterlist •

Warnings: Hospital settings, superpower whump.

Whenever Doctor looked at the end of the intensive care unit, where they held the superhumans, they saw a person standing there. It was always the same silhouette, sometimes pacing and sometimes just standing in front of the last 'pack'.

Their colleagues often called the patients coming from the agency and identified with close ID numbers a pack, knowing it was either an unknown strike team or a famous hero group.

The hospital had a good deal with the agency, earning more than they would and getting some samples about these superhumans.

With time, they had developed actual treatment ways to keep their protectors healthy, and often, it didn't take long. Those people would heal in minutes if not hours, most of the time, with correct treatment.

It was the third day of the treatment, Doctor decided it was enough. They had never seen the person sit, let alone sleep. Even if they did, there was nothing to sleep on more than two uncomfortable chairs. The security wasn't kicking them out, knowing better than messing someone with powers and mentally unstable.

Right now, the intensive care unit held four people who had exhausted themselves until they had no strength left, mildly injured. They were brought by the person waiting for them, probably the leader of the pack, wearing the same clothing. Doctor was sure the person was the reason why they were only mildly injured, not severely.

They went closer, the silhouette snapping into attention a few seconds late.

They recognised the person, hesitating before running off to get a blanket and a pillow.

There was an unspoken rule. No doctor treated Leader unless they were brought in with a stretcher or they had accepted the treatment. No one even spoke to them or met with their eyes longer than they had to. They were a ticking bomb, especially when their team was at someone's care different than themselves, despite having a reputation as cold blooded monster in the field and getting any mission given to them done with the same emotionless attitude as if they had no feelings.

Doctor decided it was nonsense, coming back with blankets and seeing them touch the glass separating them with the team with shaky hands.

-•-

Leader felt awful, but it was something they were used to.

They were waiting at one side of the glass panel, tempted to break it, if they could be sure that the team after the glass wouldn't get harmed.

They had been standing there for days, not leaving and constantly watching the monitors since the team was first brought. They just couldn't leave, not when it was all their fault. They had the power everyone desired, but it was never enough to stop enemies, flooding onto them, the team being ambushed every time as if the enemy knew where they were, their powers used more and more but never enough for the next enemy, unable to reach the team—

They paced across the hall once more, feeling the power bleed onto their hands, so tempted to get it out because their power was not enough, and never useful when it was enough, always too slow, too fast, too much, too less. It was useless, and they didn't want it, their mind torn between desire for more and hate for it.

They looked at the person coming. It was a doctor, but Leader wasn't patient enough to deal with one of them if the person wasn't going to tell that their team was going to wake up soon.

The doctor was holding a blanket and a pillow. They stiffened at their place, not remembering when they had last slept. Sometime before the mission, probably. They were tired, but they knew it would only get worse if they napped, for their curse like powers draining every bit of them they weren't using to recharge their powers, despite them using their energy to stay awake. Standing kept them going, both physically and mentally, the team in front of their eyes, where they could protect and find relief that they were alive despite their useless commanding skills.

"Thought you'd like to sleep here." The doctor spoke. They turned to them, shaking hands reaching to the pillow and blanket.

Why care about Leader? Their powers were the poison of their body, the doctors staying away as much as they could not to get the blame when their body unavoidably failed. Leader opened their mouth to snap at the doctor but couldn't find the energy. They just nodded as they threw the blanket to the chair, turning back to the glass.

They just wanted the doctor to go away. They knew they looked rude, but they would be more rude if they kept their attention at the doctor. They knew they wouldn't be able to stop themselves with how sleepy they felt, phantom touchs jolting them and keeping them awake every second, voices of the team present like they were whispering their ears.

They sighed, closing their eyes for a second.

They opened their eyes, falling, and they clung onto the doctor desperately.

They stood absurdly, struggling to keep themselves up with the fatigue plaguing them.

The doctor reached them, a hand gripping their arm, but they flinched away sharply, their angry glare focusing on the doctor.

The doctor lifted their hands innocently, frowning.

"I only wish to examine you"

"No."

"Please, just let me take a look."

"No." They refused again.

"I'm afraid no is not an answer I can accept. "

Leader stumbled again, but Doctor held them tighter, leading them to the chairs.

"How long have you been like this?" They asked, sitting Leader down. Leader hesitated, resigned eyes slowly meeting with the doctor's.

Leader closed their eyes, head falling to the doctor's chest as they struggled to hold themselves up. "Since I first used my powers." They murmured, sleep claiming them.

[menalez]

I'm still bisexual, so there are layers I probably don't understand entirely. but I've been speaking out against csa since I was a teenager, talked to all kind of activists, professionals and victims. and I truly think this compulsory imagery of how a victim should behave - queit, unless someone needs to boost their ego through a salvationist fantasy - is one of the cruelest mechanisms of patriarchy. I always knew I was a victim, came to close to death for that. but I used to think I was this bad case of a victim, you know? that if I talked out loud I'd make people who deserved the help look bad. the first time a psychologist told me more victims become hypersexual than completely repulsed I thought she was lying to make me feel better. no one really saw me as a kid, me displaying hypersexual behaviour at 13 was seem as the devil in me and not this desperate cry for help, it all got to my head. whole mess. but the point is I eventually started taking about it, and at some point I started mentioning these things in me I saw as a bad and contradictory. and that was when a lot more girls started approaching me - I work in education now so I cross a lot of cases. most of them were just glad to hear they weren't alone, that their desperate attempts to cope didn't erase what happened to them being wrong, that they weren't broken and dirty beyond help or something. and it's strange of me to even compare, because honesty what they're attacking you for doesn't add to 3% of what I admitted and it's so revolting that it's enough to victim blame. nothing we do cam ever be enough, it's all so clearly a trap to keep people from getting help... but I'm still sure you've had the same effect to many. it's so hard to talk about it, worse to hear those things from people who should have your back. but it still makes a difference. so thank you! I hope one day we are at least free of the expectancy that people with different personalities and experiences must all react the same. and I hope so so much good comes in your life! you come across as so kind and patient here. and you deserved so much better, may it come soon

thank you for this v sweet message anon ❤️ i can relate to what you said. hypersexuality also came about as a result of my trauma and it was confusing and would disgust me. things would happen to me and i knew i didn’t want it, it showed i didn’t want it, id react really badly during & after.. but i felt like it was my fault bc i was hypersexual to begin w so i must want it and just have sth wrong with me to not actually, truly want it when it happens. i was not a good victim either. i reacted to my abuse by becoming withdrawn, lashing out at my loved ones, pushing ppl away and at the same time accepting a subservient position to the person who wouldn’t leave me alone. it was a confusing time and a part of me is glad i was so dissociated for most of it bc at least i don’t remember all of it and only remember it in flashes of memory.

I hope one day we are at least free of the expectancy that people with different personalities and experiences must all react the same.

same here. it’s pure stupidity to me that some people don’t seem to comprehend that even if we have similar experiences, they’re not identical & we as individuals aren’t identical. so we’re not all going to react the same. it’s also annoying that ppl think if ur a traumatised lesbian, there’s only one possible reaction. as if mental illness and trauma can only appear one way and only impact you one way. as if those things can’t interact w ur sexuality in different ways. it’s stupidity. i assume they’d eventually realise that it doesn’t make much sense how they perceive and treat traumatised women & esp traumatised lesbians but by the time they do, i doubt any of us will be around and willing to accept their apologies.

[vehk]

damn, what a bitch gotta do to not feel shitty

[somethingwritey]

How is the Rangshi long fic coming? Id love an update on ittttt!

Hello! I'm so glad you're still thinking about my Rangshi fic! It's currently around 20k at the moment—definitely getting a bit carried away!

Because you asked, here's another little out-of-context snippet ;)

-----

“Do you think the spirits would mind if I assassinated a world leader?”

Jinpa jerked his head up at the question, risking a glance behind him at her. Kyoshi knew she must be a sight to behold, laying out across the wide saddle and staring up at the darkening clouds. In her hands, she opened and closed a fan in time to her pounding pulse.

“I don’t think that’s listed as an Avatar duty,” Jinpa stammered, thoroughly taken aback by her proposal.

“Bummer.”

Jinpa was quiet for a few moments, no doubt trying to edge around the subject towards her reasoning. “I take it that meeting with the Fire Lord went… poorly?”

Kyoshi propped herself up on her elbows to stare him in the face. She hoped he could read how absolutely stupid that question had been. She’d emerged from the Fire Lord’s palace by stomping, causing tiny earthquakes as she marched over to the stables. That should’ve been indication enough.

“He’s out of control.” Kyoshi shivered—Rangi’s absence making itself very apparent just then; she could always be counted on for a little extra warmth while traveling.

Kyoshi went back to staring at the sky.

Zoryu’s words about the Firebender still echoed in her ears, doing more to chill her than the night air ever could. She wished she could put more distance between Rangi and the Fire Lord, despite being hidden away in Yokoya.

For a terrifying moment, she wondered if Zoryu somehow knew. If he could see the girl in her cotton shift, laid out on the infirmary bed with her hands knotted in the sheets. If he had discovered a way to look at the bruises on her face and the way her breath still rattled slightly whenever she breathed. Maybe this whole meeting had been a distraction, a diversion to take Kyoshi away from the infirmary and Rangi. Maybe, it was too late.

“Jinpa!” Kyoshi felt her heart pounding in her ears. “Fly faster!”

She worked herself up as they flew, imagining horrific scenes of injury and destruction—rivaling the iceberg or North Chung-Ling - only this time, it would absolutely be her fault. If anything happened to Rangi, the Flying Opera Company, even Hei-Ran and Atuat, she would be to blame.

Kyoshi gripped the edge of the saddle, her knuckles turning white from the effort. She watched the ground grow closer and closer as Yingyong spiralled into a descent. Her chest tightened with every drop in altitude, and once, she almost slipped over the edge and plummeted the last several feet to the ground.

“Quiet evening.” Jinpa seemed on the whole unaware of her own personal panic. He landed Yingyong with ease and dismounted, walking around the side of the bison to assist Kyoshi like he always did.

She didn’t wait for the monk to make it over to her. She tumbled from the saddle, falling hard onto the ground and scrambling back up to her feet.

“Kyoshi!” he yelled after her in disbelief.

She didn’t turn around, stumbling towards the infirmary to what she knew would be waiting for her. Blindly, she pushed open the door and tripped over the doorway, panting and gasping for air, to find -

No evidence of violence. No ransom note or bodies or trails of blood. Just Hei-Ran and Atuat sitting in a few chairs with bowls of noodles, with the rest of the Flying Opera Company still bedridden, but looking more vibrant than before. Even Rangi looked, on the whole, unchanged, propped up in bed. Someone had even taken the time to put her hair back up in its usual topknot.

“Well,” Hei-Ran said dryly, taking in Kyoshi’s haggard appearance. “Are you being pursued by wolfbats? Lion vultures? Spider snakes, perhaps?”

Kyoshi’s face flushed red, and she tried hard to catch her breath - smoothing down her skirts to remove the ruffles.

“Did the monk get eaten?” Atuat asked calmly, taking another bite of her noodles. Clearly, the two women were enjoying the joke at Kyoshi’s expense.

Rangi covered her mouth, looking as though she was trying to keep a straight face for Kyoshi’s sake and failing at it. Kyoshi glared at her.

“Not you, too.”

A little snort escaped Rangi’s fingers, and her eyes went wide.

“Some bison ride you must’ve had,” Kirmia ventured, surveying Kyoshi’s windswept state. “What did happen to that Airbender of yours?”

Kyoshi gestured out the door. “Probably unsaddling Yingyong,” she told them all, still somewhat out of breath. “I, uh, just needed to check something.”

“The Fire Lord put you on edge?” Hei-Ran put down her bowl of noodles, staring hard at Kyoshi.

She forced herself to look back calmly. The last thing she wanted was to let everyone know that she’d gotten worked up over some unfulfilled threats. And now that she was here, even Kyoshi could tell how stupid she’d been. The infirmary was the safest place for Rangi right now, surrounded as she was by Hei-Ran and Atuat and unable to make any wrong move the Fire Lord could use to justify an attack.

Kyoshi forced a smile, relaxing her shoulders the best she could. “Nothing of the sort.” She tucked her fans back into her belt. “The meeting was simply to confirm what he already knew. Pretty big waste of time, actually.”

Hei-Ran was still studying her skeptically, probably trying to pinpoint the reason for Kyoshi’s sudden change in demeanor. Kyoshi dared to look over at Rangi again.

Her expression mirrored her mother’s, lips slightly pursed and head tilted to the side. If Kyoshi didn’t want Hei-Ran to discover the true nature of her meeting with Zoryu, she definitely didn’t want Rangi figuring it out.

Rangi’s station meant everything to her, and she took her job very seriously. If she knew that her own Fire Lord was pondering possible ways to strip the girl of her life - or worse, her honor - she would lose it.

Kyoshi had already seen how Fire Nation citizens treated their disgraced ranking officials. Hei-Ran had been pitied, patronized, pet like an animal. If anyone were to take that tone with Rangi, well, Kyoshi couldn’t promise that she would be able to keep her Avatar State in check.

“Care for some noodles?” Atuat gestured to her own bowl, holding it up for Kyoshi to see.

There was no way Kyoshi could turn down food. She hadn’t eaten since… well, Kyoshi couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d eaten, and she could feel Rangi staring daggers at her.

“Yeah,” she smiled at Atuat. “Noodles would be great.”

////

It was three days before Rangi was able to stand.

Atuat worked on her the best she could, trying to heal the internal damage caused by Yun. She told Kyoshi that bits of his earth dagger had broken off inside her wound, causing irritation and leaving a large possibility for infection. It didn’t help that Rangi was a terrible patient.

“I can get up,” she kept insisting. “I’m fine!”

When Atuat finally let her try, Rangi leapt at the opportunity, getting to her feet much too quickly and nearly doubling over from lingering stiffness and pain.

“Careful!” Kyoshi cried, hovering nearby. The outburst earned her stares from both Rangi and Atuat.

When Rangi straightened up again—slower this time—Kyoshi could see the imprint of the bandages under her shift - wrapped generously around her torso like battle armor.

“Are you sure she should be doing this?” Kyoshi asked Atuat, probably only fueling Rangi’s determination. “She’s still got bandages on! What if she starts bleeding again? We can try again tomorrow! Or next week!”

“Kyoshi, what’s your problem?” Rangi narrowed her eyes.

She was being far too overprotective, Kyoshi knew. She should back off. Let Rangi manage her own recovery. But even though it was inviting Rangi’s wrath, Kyoshi didn’t want her Firebender’s stubbornness to impede her healing process.

Rangi needed to take it slow. Make sure she didn’t make things worse with her rush to get better. As much as Kyoshi wanted to see her girl back on her feet, she knew it wouldn’t benefit either of them if it happened too quickly.

That’s what Kyoshi told herself as she watched Atuat support Rangi and instruct her to gently raise and lower her arms - stretching out her muscles. Kyoshi just didn’t want Rangi to overextend herself. To tear open her wound. To hurry an infection along. Her concern was born from love and care, not selfishness.

Or cowardice.

As if to poke holes in her reasoning, Hei-Ran entered the tent, arms crossed. “Jinpa told me your meeting with the Fire Lord ended… abruptly.” She glanced over at Atuat and Rangi for the briefest of moments. “Rangi, straighten your shoulders. Injuries don’t excuse bad posture.”

Rangi huffed, but obediently did as she was told. She respected her mother’s authority, whether she liked it or not.

Kyoshi picked her next words carefully. Lying to Hei-Ran was never a good idea, but neither was letting on just how badly the meeting had actually gone. “I think… the messages of both parties had ample time for sinking in.”

The words could’ve come straight from Yun’s mouth—vague with just the right amount of high-brow language. Maybe she wasn’t a hopeless cause after all.

Hei-Ran seemed surprised by the response as well. “I see. And what message did the Fire Lord impart on you?”

Shit.

Kyoshi tried to think on her feet. “Politics,” she said at last. “The importance of… political relations.”

“Sounds like the stuff Jianzhu used to preach,” Rangi offered, crinkling up her nose at the mention of the departed sage.

Hei-Ran sniffed dismissively at the mention of the man who’d nearly poisoned her to death. Kyoshi wondered inwardly if the woman ever mourned Jianzhu, despite everything. He had once been her close companion, after all.

Every one of Hei-Ran’s old friends were gone, she suddenly realized - swallowing hard. Kuruk. Kelsang. Jianzhu. The once-inseparable gang hadn’t stayed that way for very long. Hei-Ran was the sole survivor.

Killed after hunting dark spirits.

Murdered by Jianzhu.

Murdered by Yun. And me.

What terrible fates had been waiting for the previous Avatar team, often at the hands of each other. Was that what waited for her? For Rangi? For Wong and Kirimia? Was every Avatar doomed to bring failure and annihilation to the people who loved them most?

“Atuat,” she said sharply, turning to look at Rangi who’d made good progress accompanied by the Waterbender. “That’s enough for today.”

“Yes, Avatar.”

As Atuat moved to help Rangi back to bed, Rangi protested - an angry haze settling over her face as she watched Kyoshi move towards the door.

“What?” Rangi twisted in Atuat’s grip, trying to break free, to run after her. “Who let her call the shots around here? Kyoshi, don’t you dare walk away from me! I’m not through talking about this!”

Kyoshi didn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

“Fine! Go clear your head! See if I care!”

And then Kyoshi made it out of earshot.

She would delay Rangi’s recovery as long as she possibly could, drag it out until the spirits themselves were begging the Firebender to get back on her feet. Because at least here in the infirmary, tucked away in Yokoya, she had people to keep her safe. She couldn’t get herself thrown into another life-threatening situation while she was still recuperating from the last one.

Kyoshi wouldn’t be the reason for Rangi’s obliteration.

And neither would Zoryu.

---

more coming soon! my commissions are open (and so is my ask box!)

[detectivereyes]

I Watched the Leaves Go From Green to Grey

Summary: When TK gets anxious, he gets into fights.

Notes: for the self-harm square on my @badthingshappenbingo card, or my interpretation of it bc i didn’t want to write a traditional “self harm” fic yk

beta’d by @marjansmarwani and also s/o to loml @seaoflittlefires for providing her objective perspective and fixing all my past/present tense issues 💗

word count: 2.3k

read on ao3

If you asked TK, the first time it happened was definitely an accident. 

He wasn’t planning on getting into a fight, and he wasn’t even that high. Instead he found himself riding out the tail end of a high in some dingy bar in the East Village, trying to numb the pain with whatever alcohol the bartender would give him with a quick flash of his fake ID. At only 16, he knew he didn’t look 21, but the bartender didn’t ask or didn’t care.

It started with a simple misplacement of his elbow, brushing up too close against the glass of whiskey belonging to the burly man sitting next to him. He didn’t even realize what had happened until he heard the glass shatter on the floor between them.

He started to stutter out some form of an apology but not before he felt a flash of pain hit his face, radiating through his lower jaw until his body collided with the ground. Though he was caught off guard, the pain he’s feeling didn’t feel wrong. In fact it made him feel alive.

He hopped back up, managing to throw in a few punches of his own until more of the burly man's friends showed up and he couldn't decipher which direction the blows were coming from. But with each punch or kick, he felt more empowered. Each freshly formed bruise serving as a reminder that he wasn’t actually numb. 

He was here, and he was alive.

Fortunately, he had managed to sneak out before the cops showed up. Unfortunately, the bruises did not go unnoticed by his mom or dad. Though they didn’t press too hard, he knew he would have to be more careful next time.

He never forgot the outlet getting into fights provided. A way to not only relieve the numbness, but relieve stress and have the pain on the outside match what he felt on the inside.

He didn’t get into fights that often, only when the pain built up too much and he needed to let it out somehow. Or sometimes he used it as a way to just quiet the anxious thoughts when substances no longer did the trick.

Even after he got clean, he would occasionally find himself back in some random bar that he hadn’t managed to get himself kicked out of yet. Every bar had at least one drunk asshole who he knew would be easy to pick a fight with.

He quickly learned the right words to trigger the perfect reaction. He also got better ducking and throwing his own punches, and hiding the bruises that did form on his skin until his parents no longer noticed or worried about him.

When he arrived in Austin, he figured it would only be a matter of time before he found himself in a dingy bar on the outskirts of town, opposite of the bar the team frequented to avoid any chance of running into a familiar face.

The numb feeling and colorless vision was too much and Judd’s words only served to exacerbate the pain he was feeling inside. He attempted to fight Judd, knowing his larger frame could do a lot of damage and would do the trick. But he should have known the other man wouldn’t fight back, instead holding him close so he couldn’t do any damage until Paul broke them up.

As soon as the shift ended, TK all but ran into the Uber. The tension in his body wound up too tight and he knew it wouldn’t settle until he got in a fight. 

The fight itself was a blur, but what happened next wasn’t. As he walked out of the police station with his bag of belongings and busted lip still pulsing in pain, Carlos’ words rang in his ear.

You should talk to someone about why you felt compelled to do something so suicidal.

Was it suicidal? He always saw it as a way to remind himself that he was alive, not trying to die. But he'd also never met someone who cared so much about his well being. 

The police officers he usually ran into during his fights never seemed to give a shit about why he did what he did. And if the guys he hooked up with noticed the busted lips or black eyes, they never said anything.

Carlos checked both of those boxes, yet seemed genuinely concerned with what TK was getting himself into.

That was when he knew things would be different here.

And they were for a time. For a while the color returned into his life and the pain that he had grown so accustomed to settled into a dull ache that he barely noticed.

But like everything else, the good could never last. And soon enough the pain grew more noticeable and he felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. He needed to know he wasn't numb. He needed to feel pain. He needed to fight.

So he found himself in another dingy bar, much similar to the one he went to when he got to Austin over a year ago. He knew he shouldn’t be there. He had to call someone. But Carlos was on shift and his dad was on a date and while both would have probably picked up in a heartbeat, he couldn't do that to them. And anyone else he could have called wouldn’t understood or known what to do. 

He knew what he had to do.

On muscle memory he ran through his routine, spouting out the perfect words to trigger the reaction he craved. 

After only a few blows to the face, the punches stopped and the fight broke up as the cops arrived. He scanned the area, letting out a sigh of relief when he didn't see Carlos’ familiar brown eyes, and managed to slip out the back before anyone noticed.

The Uber ride from the bar back to his and Carlos’ home passed by in a blur. If his driver noticed the purple bruises likely beginning to blossom on his face, she didn't say anything.

He made a beeline to the bathroom as soon as he walked through the door, hoping that the damage wasn't bad enough that he couldn't cover it up. There was no way Carlos wouldn't notice, but if cleaned it up a bit and came up with a good story, it might not be as bad.

Flipping on the light switch TK frowned at his reflection. While there were a few scattered bruises all over his body, the worst by far was the one forming around his eye, already turning a lovely shade of deep purple. Above his eye was a short but deep gash, stretching across his eyebrow.

Well, that definitely wouldn't go unnoticed.

TK sighed, rifling through the medicine cabinet until he found the box of butterfly bandaids. He knew it probably would need stitches, but if he could avoid a trip to the ER tonight, that would be ideal, and these bandages would do the trick for now. He carefully placed two on his eyebrow, hissing at the contact as the wound closed. He then shut off the light and settled on the living room sofa, waiting for Carlos to come home. 

By the time he heard the jiggling of keys in the door, a few hours had passed and he had nearly fallen asleep under the soft blanket on the couch. He panicked for a second, not quite ready for Carlos’ reaction when he saw TK’s face.

On impulse, he ducked under the blanket before the door swung open. He could see the light switch on and Carlos’ outlined shape from beneath the cover.

“Babe? What’s going on?” he asked. TK could sense he had stopped in front of the couch but was refraining from coming any closer.

“Don’t freak out,” was all TK could manage to say, and he could only imagine the confusion painting his boyfriend’s face.

“I’m freaking out that you won’t tell me what’s going on,” he stated matter of factly.

TK sighed before slowly pulling down the blanket and peeking his head out, giving Carlos a sheepish grin. 

Carlos’ eyes widened in concern as he sat down next to TK, gently running his fingers over TK’s swollen eye. “What happened, baby?”

“Combative patient,” the lie rolled too easily off his tongue. “Woke up while we were treating him and took a swing at me.”

“I see,” Carlos nodded slowly. “And these other bruises?” he added, trailing his hand over the blossoming bruises on TK’s neck and arms. When he reached his torso, he didn't miss the way TK winced at the contact. TK hadn't even realized how sore he was.

“Must have fallen a little bit in the scuffle,” he shrugged.

Carlos hummed along to TK’s response. TK tried to get a read on what Carlos was making of his story. It was a pretty good one if he gave himself any credit, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Carlos just wasn't buying it. 

“You know how people get when they’re caught off guard,” he quickly added, panicking when he realized he should be adding more details before Carlos could doubt him anymore. 

Carlos though remained silent, studying him carefully. 

“We’re here to help them but they don’t always realize that right away,” he laughed nervously, hoping Carlos wasn't catching on to his anxious rambling.

“TK,” Carlos trailed off, his eyebrows pinching together in worry. He knew something was off, and there was no getting out of it.

Before he could dig himself into a deeper hole, he decided to dam break. He launched into the whole story about how he felt so on edge after his shift and he didn’t know what else to do, which is why he fell back into old habits. Carlos listened intently as he explained what happened when he showed up at the bar and instigated the fight, and ducking out he could get caught.

“I’m so sorry, Carlos. Please don’t be mad,” he said at the end of his rant, still shaking with adrenaline while he waited to see how Carlos would handle hearing the truth. 

Carlos sighed, gently rubbing TK’s shoulder. “I’m not mad at you, TK.”

“You’re not?” TK said, sniffling. 

“No, but I am concerned at why you didn’t think you could call me. And then why you felt like you had to lie about it.”

TK shrugged. “I’m just kind of used to bottling it up, I guess.”

“But you should know you can talk to me about this kind of stuff.”

“I do! But sometimes it just gets to be so much that I don’t know what else to do and I need a way to let it all out.”

“What gets to be so much?” Carlos cocked his head to the side. 

“Everything,” TK quickly responded, as if that clarified anything he was saying. He knew he wasn't making much sense and Carlos was trying his best to understand. But TK didn't know how else to describe the way he was feeling. Like a row of tightly wound string, one pluck away from snapping. 

“TK, what happened that made you want to get into a fight tonight?” Carlos asked. 

“I,” TK started to answer but stopped himself when he realized he didn't even have a good answer. He'd never stopped to consider the reasons for why he felt this way. All he knew was that he felt like he was about to explode and he needed a good way to release it. “I don’t know.”

Carlos nodded, and TK could only admire the patience his boyfriend had with him. The tears started to well up in his eyes and he took some shaky breaths as Carlos pulled him close into a hug, letting him sob into his broad chest. 

“It’s okay if you don’t know,” he whispered softly into TK’s ear. “But I think it is important to examine why you do feel this way. And to realize when it starts to get bad so it doesn’t happen again.”

TK pulled away from Carlos’ embrace, nodding and wiping back the tears while doing so. “It just feels like there’s always this pain, and sometimes I don’t notice it but other times it’s so much that I need to do something about it. And I can’t do the other stuff I used to do to deal with it, but getting into these fights… I don’t know, it helps. Which probably doesn’t make any sense but it’s better than some of my other coping mechanisms.”

Carlos gave him a sympathetic look. “TK, it might not be drugs, but you are just as likely to get hurt.”

TK looked down, nervous squeezing his hands, unsure of how to respond to Carlos’ observations.

“It’s not healthy,” he continued. “I need you to promise me you will call next time. It doesn’t matter what time, or if I’m on shift, or I’m asleep. Talk to me about it. And talk to me about what you’re feeling all the time so we can try to prevent it getting this bad. Okay?”

TK nodded in agreement. 

“Hey,” Carlos tilted TK’s head up so they matched each other's gaze. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“I know,” he gave Carlos a small smile. “I appreciate it, and your patience with me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. We’re a team, and I want to help you in whatever way possible. I love you, TK”

TK melted under Carlos’ soft brown eyes and genuine smile. “I love you too, Carlos.”

[brelione]

Please Dont Break My Heart Pt.1 (JJ Maybank X Reader)

Warnings:Not proof read,pretty much trash.

JJ would be lying if he said that he didnt have a thing for you.You were known pretty well as both a heartbreaker and a sweetheart.Neither of those really made sense,it was like trying to mix water and olive oil.It just couldnt happen.You were a kook but werent considered one of the bad ones that would stare in disgust at every pogue they saw.

You were actually known to be quite friendly with pogues,even dating a handful of them.You’d date someone for three months and then drop their asses with no explanation why.It was like clockwork.It seemed like you got bored easily,hopping from one boy to the next.

There was pretty much a line of boys,both kooks and pogues ready to shoot their shot,be yours for three months and then get their hearts broken.Unfortunately JJ could relate,wishing that you’d come up to him one day with that well known smile,shining eyes asking him to hang out sometime.He would consider himself lucky to even be so close to you,to hold your hand and touch your hair whenever he pleased.

Even if it only lasted three months and you were using him he wouldnt even care.He didnt even know why he wanted you so much or what he liked about you.He sat by a fire,Kiara and Pope within his view as he spoke to your most recent ex,a blonde boy named Dylan.He was sniffling,not understanding why you had left him.

John.B say next to JJ,interested in the conversation that was currently about you. “So what’s she like?Is she rude or like...I dunno.”JJ shrugged,trying to form his questions into actual words.Dylan huffed,staring into the flames. “No,man.She’s nice as hell and she’s funny and she dances around her living room and she likes to surf and bake and-and oh god I fucking miss her.”Dylan sobbed,wiping his tears.

JJ had heard the same story from eight guys,that you were sweet and genuine and how they thought they were different from the others until you broke them too.JJ felt bad for them of course but more than anything he wanted to know the reason for your constant heartbreaking and manipulating.He felt even worse because he wanted you to manipulate him.

He tried to listen to Dylan talk,zoning out eventually.Technically he was in the line of guys that were ready to have their heart broken and you probably knew that.That meant that he could be the next boy to be yours.It was wrong of him to think that way and he knew that.He had watched this pattern for two years now,waiting for his turn patiently and never daring to interfere but beginning to think about what would happen this time.He wanted this to be the best summer ever,to have a good time all the time.You could most definitely make this the best summer ever which meant that he needed to be number one in your line.

It had been a week since you broke Dylan’s heart.He was good to you,never yelled at you or treated you wrong.He let you take his hoodies and gave you forehead kisses and piggy back rides down the beach.You were his lockscreen and he was yours,doing whatever you wanted whenever you wanted,including braiding your hair for you and going for swims in your pool at three in the morning.

But he was getting too close to you and deep down you knew that nobody could be that perfect.You didnt want to hurt anyone which was why you let go of them so quickly and so easily,you’d hurt them more if you let them stick around.You didnt even know what your type was or if you even had one,you just needed something different.

You were definitely known for breaking peoples hearts which was definitely not a good reputation to have but it was better than being a drug dealer or a crackhead,both of which had been interested in you at one point.You wanted someone that was more like you,impulsive,excited,ready to try new things and have deep conversations at four in the morning.

You knew that none of the boys were really like that and you knew that they would just act like that in hopes of getting you to like them.There was only one boy that you could think of that fit what you wanted without pretending.That one boy was JJ Maybank.

You were nervous as hell to even look in his direction,knowing that he was probably disgusted by the thought of a rich,heartbreaking kook and wanted absolutely nothing to do with you.You had been single for a week,trying to figure out what to do about JJ.You didnt want to be with him and then leave him,you admired him far too much for that.

But you knew that you wanted to be with him.Kooks and Pogues would stare at you,drool practically falling from their lips as you walked by,waiting to see what you would do next.You sighed,scrolling through your phone,deciding to delete your photos of Dylan,pouting as you did so.You just had to hope that he was over by now,you had let him down gently anyways.

You got up off your bed,deciding to leave the house for the first time in three days,pulling on a black one piece bathing suit,a tshirt and shorts over it.It was 11 AM which meant the beaches wouldnt be crowded yet but luckily you knew your way around The Cut.That included the small rocky beaches that Dylan had shown you during a surfing trip to watch the sunset.

You got into your car,your surfboard already tied to the roof.You stopped at a Dunkin Donuts drive thru to grab a large iced coffee on the way,listening to your playlist as you drove to The Cut.You remembered Dylan taking you down a dirt road that was supposed to be covered in cement but never ended up happening.

You pulled onto the side of the road with a sigh,putting your phone in your backpack that contained a towel and a bag of m and m’s,swinging it over your shoulder and standing on your tip toes so you could pull your surfboard off the top,carrying it by your side as you walked down the dirt hills,coming out at the rocky surfing spot that was well hidden by trees.

JJ shocked himself when he woke up before noon,the others still asleep.He had sighed,debating on getting up or going back to sleep.He wasnt sure what made him want to go to the hidden surfing spot that was a good ten minute walk from John.B’s.He didnt know why he wanted to wiggle his toes in the small,smooth pebbles so badly.

He was already in his bathing suit from the night before,getting up and ditching the idea of surfing,just wanting to swim for a bit.His converse smacked off the dirt,trying his best not to slip and fall on his way down the hill,holding onto the trees for balance before landing onto the pebbles,eyebrows furrowing when he noticed another person was already here.He froze up when he realized it was you,laying on top of your surfboard that rested on the pebbles,arms crossed and eyes closed,not caring about the world.

He considered turning around and running away,grinning when he noticed you werent here with a boy.THat meant that you were still single and nobody was ready to pounce on him if he attempted to talk to you.Your head turned to look at him,scared for a moment when you thought he was Dylan. “JJ?”You asked curiously,sitting up to look at him at a proper angle.

He cussed,realizing it was too late to turn around now that you saw him.He grinned,walking towards you,looking down. “Yeah.”He answered,trying really hard not to grin,trying not to blush or back away out of embarrassment. “Hi.”You answered,staring up at him,not knowing what to say or do. “Hi.”He replied,sitting down on the pebbles across from you.

 “So like,what are you doing here?”He asked,trying to make conversation.He was probably the biggest flirt on the island and you were fantastic as manipulating and charming people.Why was this so hard? “I dont know,it’s just a nice day and I thought i’d surf but the waves suck today.”You shrugged,looking out at the calm,glittery water.He nodded,agreeing. “Yeah.You ever surf during a storm?”He asked,tugging at the hem of his shirt.

You grinned,nodding. “Yeah,I tried that once or twice.I wiped out and like,almost died so that sucks for me.The waves were pretty good though,not gonna lie.”You answered,remembering that adventure from a month back.Dylan was so worried the whole time,watching from the beach as you disappeared under the waves,coming back up a few moments later to gasp for air. 

“Yeah,same thing happened to me last year.I scraped my whole leg.”He admitted,trying his best not to stare at you.You turned on your surfboard,grabbing your coffee and taking a sip of it.He peeled at his fingernails,considering getting up and going into the water. “Was it worth it?”You asked,making him smile. “Um,yeah id say so.”He replied,his face becoming red. 

“I probably should’ve checked the weather before I left the house,its a really shitty day.I mean,before you got here obviously.”You took another sip of coffee,mixing the sugar at the bottom.He was a blushing mess,fighting the temptation to hide his face in his hands. “So um...where’s Dylan?”He asked,wanting to see how you’d react.You let out a sigh,biting the inside of your cheek. “It just wasnt meant to be,you know?”You asked,dissapointed when you realized he was probably just trying to get in your pants.

He nodded,understanding. “Yeah,I get that.How do you know when somethings meant to be?”He asked,slowly becoming more comfortable with you.You shrugged,not even knowing the answer.You had loved people before,you had loved all the people you had dated.You just werent in love with any of them.It just never felt right which definitely scared you.SOmetimes you wondered if you ever would love anyone like that. 

“I dont even know,dude.”You admitted,standing up on your surfboard,hopping onto the pebbles,taking off your shirt and shorts,feeling JJ’s eyes glued to you as you bent over to put your clothes into your bag. “But I do know that it’s hot as fuck out here and that water looks nice so im going to go drown.”You grinned before walking down to the water,going up to your hips,letting out a sigh of relief when your burning heels hit the cool water.

JJ admired you from a far,covering his face with his hands when your back was turned to him,grinning like a fucking idiot.He finally decided to get up and join you,pulling off his tank top and hat,dragging his feet through the cold water,standing next to you,glancing over at you every couple of minutes,trying to figure out what you were staring at that you found so interesting.

 “What are we looking at?”He asked,not seeing anything.You shrugged,wiggling your toes in the sand. “I dont know,just the clouds I guess.”You answered,looking up at him.He licked his lips,just watching you.He had never been physically close to you for longer than a minute or two even if he felt some sort of emotional connection to you since the moment he saw you.

It was a Saturday night at the beginning of June.A boneyard party was taking place,loud music,shitty beer,heated make out sessions and random games of truth or dare.Everyone was having a good time,doing whatever they pleased and getting absolutely fucking wasted.

JJ had been sipping a cup of beer,trying to listen to Pope when he heard laughter,turning to see where it was coming from.You were on Dylan’s back,your legs around his waist,arms wrapped around his shoulders,afraid you’d fall off.JJ couldnt take his eyes off of you the whole night,watching as you sat on Dylan’s lap,the boy leaving small kisses on your neck,forehead and cheeks.

It made JJ’s heart hurt,wishing it were him.On the other hand he almost wanted to yell at Dylan and call him an itiot for thinking he was different than your ex’s while another part of him wanted to yell at Dylan and try to figure out what made him so special that you spent so much time around him.JJ’s jaw clenched when he watched you kiss Dylan,wishing it were him that you were kissing.When you left the party you were wearing Dylan’s sweatshirt,holding the boys hand and probably going back to your place.

“How’d you find this place?It’s pretty well hidden.”He looked back at the empty beach,trying to figure out if you had walked because he hadnt seen your car.You looked down into the clear water,trying to figure out how far you’d be able to go without slipping under the water. 

“Uhh….Dylan showed it to me.”You replied,not wanting to make things too awkward.He nodded,not pushing any further. “I feel like Dylan didnt deserve you not gonna lie.”He admitted.Sure,he had spoken to Dylan before and thought he was an okay guy.He wasnt an asshole but he just wasnt worthy of you in JJ’s eyes.

You giggled quietly at the statement,shaking your head. “You barely know me,JJ.How do you know what I deserve?”You asked,genuinely curious for his answer.He pouted,eyebrows knitting together in frustration. “Alright,here’s what ive learned about you in like,the last fifteen minutes.”He began,a small smile on his face.You nodded,waiting for him to continue.

 “So,you like dunkin donuts,you like going on adventures for the experience and you dont really worry about consequences,you like to relax most of the time and I really want to get to know more about you.”He watched your puzzled expression,a nervous grin on his face. “You want to know more about me?How would you do that?”You asked,enjoying how nervous you could make him.

He glanced down to your lips,licking his own. “You know...a date.”He mumbled,chewing on his bottom lip. “You want to go on a date?What makes you worthy of that?”You teased,using his words against him.He rolled his eyes,looking down into the water. “I mean...I dunno,you’ll have to find out for yourself.Do you want to maybe go night swimming or something later tonight?I know a spot.”He offered,remembering the small waterfall that he had gone to with John.B and Pope last year.

You thought about it.JJ seemed sweet from what you knew but it would still be weird to go to a hidden area alone at night with someone you just met.But then again if things went south you could just kick him right in the dick. “Sounds like a date,Maybank.Just come by my house whenever,i’ll drive.”You told him,deciding that you should just leave.

There were no waves to surf or much to do so it would probably be wise to go back to your house and do your laundry and take a shower.His heart thumped in his chest,feeling a bit light headed at the thought of being yours.THere was no way this was real,he thought as he watched you walk from the water,swinging your backpack over your shoulder,getting your shoes on,holding your board and disappearing into the trees and out of his view.

He had rushed back to John.B’s,looking through every single shirt and every single pair of shorts that he had there,trying to find a good combination.He couldnt wait for John.B to wake up,shaking him by the shoulders until he was swatting the blonde’s hands away.

 “What?”He asked,sitting up in his bed. “Its my turn!”JJ exclaimed,not helping with the confusion. “What?”John.B asked again,making JJ sigh. “God,keep up!Its my turn to be hers!”JJ was far too excited for his tired friend,the words sounding like static. “Who?”John.B asked,not thinking.JJ rolled his eyes,grabbing his friend by the arm and into the guest room-JJ’s room.

 “Which outfit should I wear?”JJ asked,gesturing tot eh outfits he had laid out on the bed.He had waited over a year for this night,he shouldve prepared an outfit the moment he heard that you and Dylan had broken up. “I dont fuckin know.I dont know what girls are into.”John.B yawned,JJ’s eyes widened as he realised the problem,running into the living room to shake Kie back and forth.

 “What?”She grumbled,too tired to open her eyes. “God,fuck.”JJ cursed,throwing the girl over his shoulder and bringing her into the room,her shouts becoming annoying when he finally set her down. “Which one?”He asked,looking at the outfits.

 “For what?”She asked,looking down at the clothes. “Dammit!Im going on a date tonight and I cant mess this up.”He sighed,tugging at his hair.  “A date with who?”Kiara asked,not quite understanding.JJ wasnt the type to go on dates.What had changed? “(Y/N).”JJ answered,making Kiara’s heart drop. “Are you kidding?Come on,JJ.You know whats going to happen!”She exclaimed,her words changing nothing.

 “Does it really matter?”He asked,really just wanting to know what outfit to wear.Kiara smacked his arm,clearly mad. “Shes going to break you like she does to everyone!Why her out of all people?Cant you find a girl who’s not a play?You guys are just going to play eachother and hurt everyone!”She exclaimed,John.B nodding in agreement. “Oh,vomit!”JJ exclaimed,making the decision for himself,folding the clothes carefully and placing them on the bed.

 “Im serious,JJ!She’s gonna pretend to love you and then you’re gonna fall in love and then shes gonna break you and come running to us!”Kiara shouted,sighing loudly.JJ simply rolled his eyes,kicking his two friends out,deciding he no longer needed their opinions.He tried on the outfit,jean shorts and a gray kildare t shirt,figuring he could wear his red hat with it.

He was far too nervous for tonight.He had heard about you going on a date once only for it to go nowhere,never seeing the boy again.The boy was Max,a seventeen year old brunette that went to boneyard parties and had dropped out of highschool during junior year.JJ let his curiosity get the best of him,asking about it. “So how’d it go?”JJ had asked,sipping his beer.

Max sighed,shrugging his shoulders. “I think I was too nervous the whole time,she just wasnt really into me.She kissed me though so I think it was worth it.”Max grinned at the memory.JJ found himself thinking about you later that night as he always did,thinking differently this time.

He wanted to know what your kisses would feel like,if they were gentle or rough and where you would put your hands.He saw you kiss Dylan before,your hands in the pockets of the boys’ shorts or in his hair.JJ had imagined what that would feel like,even attempting to lucid dream but everyone knows he isnt patient enough for shit like that.

Night time came way too quick.He had showered,trying to make his hair nice for you even if he was going to place a hat on top of it anyways.His hands were gripping onto the bathroom sink tight,breathing in and out slowly,trying to remain calm before getting dressed,putting on all of his rings.

He knew where your house was.It was one of the biggest houses on the island and the driveway was painted with clouds,rainbows and mermaids so it was easy to find.He ran down the dark streets,hoping nobody would call the cops on him.He walked up your colorful driveway,stopping when lights came on across the front yard.

He didnt know what set them off,wondering if your parents knew he was coming.THe door opened,revealing you in a yellow dress,the material only going halfway down your thighs,a leather jacket hanging off of you,black and yellow vans to match.

He felt his face go red,biting his lip. “You look really-um you look really pretty.”He chuckled,feeling embarrassed.You grinned,opening the garage by typing the pin into the key pad,your black car sitting there and waiting patiently for you. “Where are we going?”You asked,taking out your keys,about to get in when he stopped you. 

“Can I drive?”He asked,giving you puppy dog eyes.You sighed,holding your keys tight,eventually giving in. “If you crash my car I will kill you.”You warned him,getting in the passengers seat that you hadnt sat in in forever.He got in,almost laughing.He had never been in such an expensive car before,pulling out of the garage,the door closing behind him. 

“Seriously though,if we crash I will kill you.”You spoke seriously,making him smile. “I know,princess.”He replied,beginning the drive down the smooth road,hitting bumps once the tires rolled into The Cut.Somehow you ended up holding his hand,your thumb resting on one of his veins,the coolness of the metal rings made a slight shiver go up your spine.

He tried so hard not to squeal,imagining this for nearly two years.He rubbed the back of your hand lightly with his thumb,trying his best to remain as calm as possible,pulling over in the familiar area. “It’s right down here.”He told you,squeezing your hand lightly before letting go.

THe two of you got out of the car,your heart beat quickening as you followed him through the woods,using a flashlight that he had brought.You could hear the waterfall,glad it wasnt too far away.THe two of you emerged from the trees and into a clearing,a slow moving rive right in front of you,a small waterfall to your right.He was focused on you,watching as you took it all in,the area being lit up by the little bit of moonlight.

You took off your jacket,unzipping the dress to reveal a white bikini underneath,placing them on top of your bag so they wouldnt get wet or dirty.He smiled,tugging off his shorts and t shirt,walking into the cold shallow water,knowing where the deep parts were.

You came in soon after,deciding to just sit in the shallow water while he jumped off the rocks and into the deep,coming up to the surface with his hair soaked and fallen into his face.He wiped it away,coming to sit next to you,admiring the waterfall. “So…”He tried to start a conversation,not quite knowing what to say.You smiled,looking over at him. 

“What?”You asked,your voice soft and smooth as you spoke.He leaned back in the water,not quite laying down. “So whats up with you?”He asked,reaching for your hand,smiling when you let him intertwine his fingers with yours. “In what way?”You asked,curious as to what he meant. “I mean you’re like,the Queen of the kooks yet you date pogues and hang around The Cut.Why?”He asked,his heels digging into the pebble below him.

You shrugged. “I mean,kooks aren't really impressive.They’re all the same,you guys have actual personalities.”You laughed,hoping he wouldnt ask the question you dreaded most.He nodded in agreement,sitting up properly.The light crashing of the water wasnt really noticeable anymore,he was too focus on the conversation.

 “I want you to tell me everything I should know about you within the next minute.Go!”He exclaimed,watching as you tried to think,surprised. “Um...um okay,my favorite color is (Y/F/C),I hate strawberry jelly,I have a dog named Hugo and hes literally the love of my life...I have slight caffeine addiction,I dont know.”You laughed,not ever thinking about this before.He nodded,urging you to keep going.

 “Uhh...my favorite show is Stranger Things,my favorite movie is The Outsiders because Dally,obviously...umm I still believe in mermaids and i’ve always wanted to build a castle.”You hoped that was enough,glad when he smiled.

 “You still believe in mermaids?”He asked,a goofy smile on his face. “Shut up,Maybank.This isnt fair,you have to tell me about you now.”You turned on your side,facing him completely.He looked shocked,not thinking that you would turn the question back on him. “You have a minute-starting now.”You announced,his thoughts moving to fast for his mouth to keep up.

 “Okay,ummm...uhhh….I’ve always wanted to live in Yucatan,my favorite color is blue...I dont have a favorite TV show...I like the Harry Potter movies but i’ve never read the books...growing up I always had a huge crush on Hermione and I believed in Santa Claus until I was twelve.I hate butterflies,I dont really like coffee because energy drinks are better and I go by JJ because I hate my actual name.”He finished,biting his lip.

You hummed,reflecting on what he just said. “Im a simp for Draco Malfoy.”You admitted,hearing him chuckle. “So you have a thing for blondes?”He asked,a cocky smirk on his face.You shushed him,rolling your eyes. “I mean,i’ve got a thing for gorgeous girls so I guess it works out.”He winked at you,a sly smirk on his face.

You felt your cheeks get hot,glancing away from him.He thought about what he was about to do for a whole two seconds,considering how it could effect his future with you. “(Y/N).”he mumbled,making you turn back to him.He waited a moment and a half before leaning in,pecking your lips lightly and pulling away,understanding why Max had spoke so fondly of the memory.

You bit your lip,pulling him into another kiss,your warm hand going into his wet hair,tugging at the slightly wavy locks.He smiled into the kiss,his hands ending up on your waist,trying to take in every detail of the moment that he knew would end soon.When you pulled away your hand remained in his hair,twirling it between your thumb and pointer finger.

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[indom-itus]

Warmth | Miya Atsumu

Summary | He loved the way you get him; the way you fit in his world along with the warmth you brought, and so did you.

Warnings | none

Word count | 1k

Note from the author | Finally made it out alive on the first part of the first sem. It sucked all of my life form, but I was able to pass all my subjects hehe. A treat for everyone ‘specially Atsumu stans. Come get this!

You have been told by many how you should reevaluate your decision by starting a relationship with Miya Atsumu, a man of many talents; he is a Division 1 volleyball player and starting setter of the Black Jackals, along with his numerous accomplishments under his belt.

His future shines bright, he was always destined for greatness.

The two of you met at your college campus, you trudged along the sidewalk, carrying your materials for your morning class, unknowingly dropping your ID card. You’ve only realized your ID wasn’t with you when you’re about to clock in. Searching inside your bag, wallet and even, the pages of your books, but to no avail, you couldn’t find it.

In your panicked state, you failed to notice the person who kept tapping on your shoulder, “Hey!”

“What?” You narrowed your eyebrows at the blonde haired man who was perspiring heavily behind you.

“‘Bout time ya responded.” He grumbled before handing you an object. “Seems like ya dropped somethin’ that belongs to ya..”

Before you could even thank him, he started to walk away from you. You grabbed his wrist, he turned to face you, a small smirk plastered on his face.

You loosened your grip on his wrist, “Thank you, how can I repay you?”

“Thought ya’d never ask.” He said, his smirk turning into a huge grin.

After that encounter, you started seeing him often and the rest was history. The first year in your relationship, it was almost something out of a coming-of-age teen movie—young, bold and carefree.

“I swear to god, Atsumu. If I fall off from this bike and die, you’re the first person that I’m haunting.” You said while gripping on the handles.

He laughed at your threat, “Nice try, love but we all know you love me too much to do that.”

You gave him a faux glare, attempting to look intimidating but he leans closer to your face; his breath fanning against your face then he leans in for a kiss.

Atsumu kissed you with so much fervor, like you were going to shrivel into dust and it never failed to make you weak in the knees.

It wasn’t easy for both of you, as he had his volleyball career ahead of him while you had your own aspirations too.

The fights were inevitable, sometimes, it made you feel that you both weren’t compatible, the two of you were different. He was a star shining among the cosmos, he was far too high for your reach as if the skies. You weren’t meant for him, he deserved better than that.

But he refused, he wanted to fight for the both of you— You’ve never seen him so helpless, so vulnerable.

Despite his pompous attitude, he was a man filled with insecurities and fear. Fear of showing all his vulnerabilities and imperfections, he was terrified of not being accepted.

“Didn’t expect ya to come ‘ere.” His brother, Osamu commented as you gave him a sheepish smile.

“I was able to clock out early, can’t miss his first game of the season, you know.” You said while patiently waiting for your order.

“Sometimes, it makes me wonder how Tsumu snagged you, yer way too good for him.” He lets out a small smile before handing you your order. “Here’s three orders of tuna and spring onion onigiri.”

You handed him the exact amount of your order, “Thanks Osamu, I guess I’ll see you around?”

He gives you a brief wave before turning back to tend the other customers. You walked away from the booth and situated yourself on a seat by the balcony, watching your boyfriend—who was actually up to serve.

You feel your breath constrict while you watch the match in anticipation. To say you weren’t nervous was an understatement; everything was happening too fast, the next thing you knew the crowd went wild with the Jackals scoring the last shot, you stood up from your seat, hands gripping on the railing while cheering loudly at the top of your lungs.

“You see that setter over there? The one with jersey #13?” You excitedly pointed at Atsumu’s direction to an unfortunate bystander. “THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND RIGHT THERE!”

With the said team being in a victorious huddle, Atsumu looked up at the audience, only to notice your figure jumping up and down which made him grin.

After both teams lined up to shake their hands, the crowd immediately gathered around the players—enthusiastic to get their autographs and pictures. You didn’t waste any time running down, pushing past the crowd.

“ATSUMU!” You exclaimed, waving frantically at him which earned looks from onlookers.

I’ve probably embarrassed myself, but I’ll save my meltdown for later.

Atsumu paused from talking to a fan, then jogged to your direction and engulfed you into a big hug.

“Yer here! I thought ya have work?” Atsumu whispers in your ear, you wrapped your arms around his frame.

You smiled softly, “Don’t mind that, congratulations on your win, babe. I knew you could do it.”

The both of you let go, you looked at him in his post game glory then he looked at you before leaning close to your face.

“Since I won and all, seems like yer forgettin’ somethin.” He mused with a smirk, slyly tapping on his lips to give you a hint.

You crossed your arms at his antics as you rolled your eyes at him. Of course, why didn’t you see this one coming?

You pulled him by his jersey, leaning closer with your lips ghosting against his whilst Atsumu’s eyes closed in anticipation—only for you to place a peck on the corner of his lips.

Hah, serves him right.

“There. I’ll be waiting for you by the side.” You smiled knowingly before taking your leave as Atsumu looked at you in shock.

It took all of your control to not burst into laughter at the face of disbelief and betrayal etched on his face after the stunt that you’ve pulled. You felt a tug on your wrist, bumping into a firm chest as a low chuckled rumbled against your ear.

“Ya think yer so smug now, are we? Think again, sweetheart~”

[notyourhetloki]

Where are the clowns?

- Arthur Fleck (Joker) x Reader -

Pronouns: None! It’s gender neutral ;)

Word Count: 2,042

Notes: This is a repost from my archived blog @/joysmaddworld

“Hello! This is not something I usually do, but since reading this request made by the incredible @ajokeformur-ray​ , I just couldn’t get this scenario out off my head! So of course, this IS a work directly inspired by her writing and that request in particular, so I recommend you to check it out first! Thank you so much for inspiring me and allowing me to post this, dear <3 Hope you all like it!”

Warnings: Mentions of guns, criminal activity and hospital settings. Spoilers.

“Two police officers were injured in a confront inside the National Bank of Gotham City. The criminals took a large quantity of money to later on scatter it onto the streets on their way out.”

You were barely paying any attention to the TV, too concentrated on eating and balancing the plate on your lap as you sat uncomfortably on your couch; a bad habit you developed as your shifts at Arkham started getting longer and longer. There was not enough time in lunch break, so multitasking was the way to keep track of things happening around.

As you found a decent position, you took a bite of your food to then finally take a glimpse of the TV, and the sight of an armed man wearing a clown mask made you freeze, now completely paying attention to the news.

“All gang members were wearing clown masks to hide their ID, a now considered symbol of the rebel movement that emerged several months back when multiple protests took place around the city, sparked by a statement from the deceased politician Thomas Wayne.”

You watched closely as one masked man appeared to be putting money inside big cloth bags and two others guarded his back while holding guns.

The camera zoomed into one particular individual. Thin, medium length hair, red suit.. but still with a mask hiding his face.

He moved with elegance. Despite the situation, he seemed to be dancing around and thriving on the chaos.

Could it be?

“One of the burglars is suspected to be the missing criminal Arthur Fleck, famously known as Joker. The police department of Gotham City is investigating the possibility of TV star Murray Franklin’s murderer being involved in the crimes committed by this particular gang. Three criminals were injured and are now under arrest, and the remaining five, including the yet to be confirmed Joker, are still to be found.”

You sat and watched the last few scenes from the report, now with a sudden anxiety bubble rising from your stomach... it had to be him.

~ A few months back ~

Since you started working at the Arkham State Hospital, your life took a turn you could never expect. As a naturally empathetic person, you knew you would have to fight to maintain your mental health and sanity intact... working at an asylum would never be an easy job. You just couldn’t predict you would get this affected by a patient.

Arthur was a unique case, a unique man. You had to admit that you had been wary before becoming his therapist... he did kill several men. But as you got to know his case, read his files... your heart just broke. Arthur was the perfect example of what negligence and cruelty could do to a person, or make a person do.

You decided that, despite the circumstances, you would be kind to that man. Try to make him experience a little peace, maybe try to gain his trust and care for him. You wanted to befriend him. And without you even realizing, you had fallen... diving head first in the rabbit hole that was Arthur Fleck, crossing a point of no return.

As time passed by, you got closer and closer to Arthur. Brought him food, bought him quality cigarettes with your own money... tried to care for him as much as you could, especially knowing how the other hospital workers would treat him badly. He appreciated every single little thing, you could see it in his eyes...could feel him starting to open up to you more with each session. At the very first appointments he stayed silent, probably expecting another doctor to say some bullshit and just... not understand. But seeing your actual interest in him, Arthur started getting less shy, and with time, he even dared to get a little bold. Always respectful, but still making you blush at his attempts at flirting. It surprised you to know Arthur could be that caring, and with each visit he managed to find another sweet spot of yours.

For some unknown reason, Arthur Fleck just captivated you. Maybe because he was gentle, polite, interesting to get to know... nothing related to that “freak” image people portrayed of him. They just didn’t care to get to know him... and that infuriated you. Or maybe because he seemed to treasure you so much... no one had ever looked at you the way he did. And Arthur probably never had anyone looking at and caring for him the way you did.

The day Arthur escaped Arkham caught you (and everyone at the hospital) off guard. Several men wearing clown masks invaded the place, held some staff as hostages and broke into Arthur’s cell. You had just arrived at work when it all happened. You rushed to Arthur’s aisle, only to have a gun pointed at you by one of his followers.

"The doctor’s with me!” You heard Arthur’s urgent voice from behind you, he touched your shoulder lightly as to make you turn to face him.

“Are you ok?” You couldn’t properly respond, your breath was taken away as you realized... he was so close. There had been times where you would take his handcuffs off during therapy sessions to provide him some comfort, but... nothing like this. You obviously trusted Arthur to behave in a controlled environment, and for your surprise, it didn’t make you feel afraid to have him standing free right in front of you. There was definitely mutual trust between you two.

He had a much calmer expression now seeing you were ok. The look in his eyes was soft, Arthur always looked at you like that... so you hugged him, something you wanted to do since the first time reading through his files.

He proceeded to explain that those men were the same ones that helped him the day he shot Murray... he really did manage to start a movement, huh?

“I’m not going to stop you, Arthur.” You didn’t want to do that, anyway. “But please... be careful, ok??” you said urgently. That moment finally made you realize how bad you cared for him, how bad you were going to miss him now that he'd be gone. Would you ever see each other again?

Arthur looked at you in the eyes for just a quick moment before he kissed you. He held the side of your face ever so gently, and stole a sweet delicate kiss that surprised you, but made you melt.

He then smiled at you, and proceeded to be rushed out of the hospital by his comrades, leaving you completely speechless. That was the last time you saw Arthur Fleck.

Or so you thought.

Every day you would look into the news, searching for something that might relate to Arthur... you were so afraid for him. Police officers would definitely not be as nice now that he had escaped once again... he could be shot, killed...

You couldn’t fathom that. For weeks you frantically searched for any signs of him, but found nothing.

Months got by and your mind started slowing down a bit, you could only hope he was ok and fine wherever he was.

You missed Arthur... so, so much.

The report from the news channel stayed on your mind throughout the whole day... you felt distracted, distant. Your mind going places you definitely did not want to go. Sometimes you felt like it was best to move on from Arthur, forget him so you wouldn’t suffer so much... but you couldn’t do it. Your heart ached for him, holding onto the hope you had of seeing him again.

When it was just about nighttime, you ultimately decided to take some time for yourself and try to calm your mind a little bit. You started preparing some tea, popped a Frank Sinatra vinyl onto the record player and proceeded to grab a book to read. You couldn’t help but think Arthur would have appreciated the music...

Concentrating to read was proven to be harder than anticipated, so you got up and stopped the music out of frustration. Maybe going upstairs to your room was a better ideia... it had started to rain, that would help you calm down.

Before you grabbed a cup of tea to take to your bedroom, you rushed to close a window you didn’t quite remember opening in the first place... thankfully it didn’t rain inside.

You spent what felt like an hour or so just looking outside of your bedroom window. Watched as the rain fell gently on top of the trees, making the branches full of leaves dance ominously... the movement was so calming combined with the warmth of your tea... you finally started to calm down, the sound of the rain leading you to a trance like state.

The sound of music caught you off guard. At first you thought you were imagining things, but then remembered about the record player downstairs...

“Isn't it rich? Are we a pair? Me here at last on the ground, You in mid-air...”

Your heart skipped a beat, suddenly feeling terrified. You weren’t the type of person to consider a ghost or anything like that... so there were only two valid options in your head: the vinyl started playing on it’s on somehow, or there was an intruder.

Grabbing the switchblade you kept on your desk, you put on a robe and gathered all the courage inside yourself to go downstairs. You took each step carefully to make as little sound as possible, holding your breath involuntarily as you felt your heart pounding heavy on your chest... ok, maybe you were a little bit afraid of ghosts, after all...

“But where are the clowns? Send in the clowns.”

As you took the last few steps of the stairs, you managed to take a deep quiet breath and proceed to peek on your living room.

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Arthur was beside the record player, rocking gently from side to side in tune with the music and with his eyes closed. He was wearing his Joker outfit, makeup and all... he looked beautiful.

“A-Arthur?” you managed to say, starting to tear up and letting your blade drop to the floor.

He opened his eyes and looked at you, letting out a small gasp as he whispered your name. Arthur had planned to visit you for the longest time now, but he knew the dangers and implications of that. He had to stay low for a while, even wore a mask (much against his will) in his last public appearance... but after all those months, he grew impatient. Nothing mattered anymore, only you. And oh, you looked breathtaking. Seeing you now so vulnerable, wearing only a silk robe made Arthur rediscover a passion he thought could never get stronger.

He managed to take just a few small steps before you ran to his embrace... you couldn’t help but cry a little bit, thank goodness he was alright.

“Oh, I was so worried!” you said, now looking Arthur in the eyes. He wiped some tears from your cheeks and held your face gently, taking in the sight of you. Finally... being reunited with him felt so right.

“I missed you, doctor...” he said teasingly, making you chuckle as he smiled fondly at you. Your heart burned with passion, overwhelmed with the happiness and relief that took over you.

You found yourself running your hands up the lapels of his blazer and lightly grabbing at them, and just couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss. A wave of emotions washed through you as he kissed you back slowly, being so gentle yet passionate.

You both spent the night chuckling at each other like two teenagers, dancing around your living room barely letting go of each other’s embrace, kissing and loving each other for hours on end.

You knew what you were getting yourself into. Arthur was definitely not a saint, you knew life with him could get dangerous for both really quickly... it was all really risky and crazy.

But oh, craziness beside Arthur Fleck felt so, so good. You knew deep in your heart it would all be worth it, no matter what.

A/N: Well, I hope y’all like it! I got some amazing feedback when I posted it on my old blog, so I’m excited to see what you have to say about it! Thank you, loves! Enjoy ;^)

[buckleysjareau]

you feel like the perfect escape now

"In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness."

or

Eddie planning his proposal with the help of Hen and Karen. Featuring good ol' Buck and Chimney banter, soft and in love boyfriends, and tooth rotting fluff.

part two of three in my series ‘cause i’m not too far and you’re my favorite place on ao3

Eddie Diaz was never the type of guy to actually think about marriage. He’ll sound horrible saying it, but he didn’t really think about his marriage to Shannon. He loved her, he’s loved her since their third date when they were caught in the rain and instead of freaking out, she grabbed Eddie’s hand, dragged him out from the shelter and spun them around, head falling back in happy, care-free laughter. He loved her when she told him, with tears in her eyes, that she was pregnant. He loved her as she walked down the aisle with a grin on her face, carelessly happy. He loved her when she gave birth to their world.

But he never thought about it as it happened. When she’d told him she was pregnant, after he got over the initial excitement, his first thought was oh, we should probably get married now. Before that, it never occurred to him that he would ever marry Shannon, even though he loved her.

It was different with Buck.

Realizing he wants to marry Buck, not because he should but because it’s the only thing he can think of when he goes to sleep at night and when he wakes in the morning. He realizes the difference in the thought when it comes to planning his proposal to Buck and how he treated Shannon’s proposal.

He loved Shannon, but he was never in love with her. The thought sends an uncomfortable amount of guilt through him, but he hears Buck’s voice in his ear saying, you can’t help who you fall in love with.

Not exactly what he meant when he said it but it helped Eddie shake a lot of the guilt.

He was wholeheartedly, one-hundred percent, completely, utterly and stupidly in love with Evan Buckley.

The second it struck him how much he not just wanted, but needed to marry Buck, he couldn’t wait a second longer to start planning it. 

The first thing he has to do before he even starts planning anything, though, is ask Christopher if he would be okay with him marrying Buck. He knows his kid loved Buck more than life, but sometimes he’s scared that Chris will think that if he marries him, he’ll be replacing Shannon.

When it happens that Buck and his schedules don’t line up, he takes Christopher to lunch at his favorite place and asks. 

“Christopher, can I ask you a really important question?”

He giggles when his son looks up from his triple chocolate pancakes with whipped cream and chocolate already covering his mouth. “What is it, dad?”

“Abuela’s gonna kill me for letting you order all of this sugar.” He shakes his head as he smiles before he clears his throat. “You know how before Buck and I got together, I asked what you’d think about it?”

“I said I loved my Buck and got really excited.”

“That’s right! Well, Christopher, how would you feel if I asked your Buck to marry me?”

Chris’ smile grows immediately. “You’re gonna marry Bucky?”

“If that’s alright with you.” He smirks.

“Yes! Yes!” 

His heart soars. He was really going to ask Evan Buckley to marry him. 

After he texts Hen for her help and the twenty texts he receives of her freaking out in the language of keyboard smash, he tries to plan it. Keyword: tries.

From Hen;

Alright, alright diaz-buckley, how do you plan to do this

To Hen;

I have no clue!!! That’s why i asked for your help to research and what not. I’m not Buck, i’m not good at research or whatever

Also

*future diaz-buckley, we’re not married YET

From Hen;

boy... you’re in love in love huh

Your boy is sitting right across from me 

*photo attachment*

What’s he smiling at eddie?

To Hen;

Probably dog videos 

Now helllllppppppppppppp

From Hen;

You were right. A golden retriever looking at videos of golden retrievers

Patient, diaz! 

Got a call, we’ll talk later

To Hen;

Tell buck to be careful!

You too obviously

bu t you know what I mean 

He doesn’t know why he thought he could get anything done regarding the proposal through text. That’s how Hen and him were, they had never been able to stay on one conversation at a time when texting. There was one time when Hen had asked him for a recipe Buck wouldn’t give her, followed by a text about a playdate with Denny, and a text asking his high score in Candy Crush. He responded to say he’d ask him and send it and continued the conversation. Talk of playdates turned into talks of weirdest calls, talk of high scores in Candy Crush turned to talk of modern technology and so on. By the time Hen stopped responding, presumably because Karen got home, Eddie realized he’d never given her the recipe. 

It was different in person, they could sit for hours and talk about the same thing. He cherishes any conversation with Hen, though. He cherishes their friendship so much. Next to Buck, Hen was his best friend. 

That’s why he couldn’t think to ask anyone better to help him plan the next step in his life with the man that he loves.

From Hen;

Heads up, your boys in a sour mood 

Dont worry though because ik you are!

Im sure a nice cuddle from his soon to be fiance will do the trick

To Hen;

Why shouldnt I worry? An hour ago you sent me pic of him smiling 

Now hes in a bad mood? Something happened

Hennnnnnnnn tell me what happppppennnnnneddddd

What was the call

im bored and worried 

From Buck; 

Can I stay the night? Ill bring wine and chinese <22222

<4444

To Buck;

You okay there babe? Haha

You never have to ask 

Or bribe me with food and alcohol

But i will accept it <3

From Buck;

You know i hate texting don’t judge me!

See you in 10 love love love you <3

Eddie’s worried. Buck practically lived at the Diaz’s, he never had to ask to stay the night and he knew that. All Hen had sent back was the shrug emoji so he was on his own to figure out why.

As promised, Buck walks in ten minutes later with two bags of chinese food and a bottle of white wine. He seemed tense, but when he sees Eddie in his presence, he can automatically see his whole body relax. 

“I hate when we’re not on shift together.” Buck says in lieu of a greeting. He places the wine and food on the coffee table in front of them before he plops down next to Eddie.

He leans into Eddie’s touch, instantly lying his head on Eddie’s chest and closes his eyes.

Eddie smiles down at his boyfriend, automatically moving to run a hand through his curls, wrapping the other arm around Buck’s chest. “Me too. I missed you today. So did Chris.”

“I missed you both like crazy today. I can’t wait to just cuddle up to you and fall asleep.” He mumbles. “You’re my world.”

Even after all of this time, Buck can still make Eddie blush like it’s nothing.

He presses his lips to Buck’s forehead. “And you’re mine.” 

It stays quiet after that until Eddie’s stomach growls, startling Buck into sitting upright in laughter. 

“I think it’s time to eat, huh?” 

“You’d be right.” 

Buck gets up and gets two wine glasses from the kitchen. The way in which Buck walks so comfortably around his home will never fail to bring a kaleidoscope of butterflies to his stomach. He knows where everything is and he knows how everything works and it feels empty when he’s not there. 

Eddie turns on the TV and picks a random station that’s playing reruns of a cop show he’d seen here and there. Eddie and Buck’s legs are interlaced and resting on the coffee table, food in their laps when things settle. The ease on Buck’s face makes him wonder why he was even worried in the first place.

They don’t talk as they eat their food and sip their wine. They just take in each other’s company as they watch what’s on in front of them, perfectly content in just being together. 

Buck’s phone rings from the coffee table. When he lets it ring through to voicemail without even looking at ID, Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the one who said you should answer every phone call because it might be important? Or are you just a clone of my boyfriend?”

Buck snorts. “I know it’s not important.”

It starts to ring again and Eddie sees Maddie’s name flash on the screen. “It sounds important.”

“I promise you it’s not.” 

Then she calls a third time and Buck groans. “Fine, fine. I’ll answer.” 

He doesn’t leave the room, doesn’t make any effort to grab his phone, just sits back and pouts as Eddie hands him his phone. 

He listens to Buck’s side of the conversation closely. He’s talking about not wanting to go somewhere because he doesn’t know if someone is going to be at that place and he doesn’t want to risk it. Hm.

“I was having a nice, relaxing night with Eddie before you called about something you knew the answer to, so if you’ll excuse me, I’d love to get back to that.” He throws his phone onto his lap after he hangs up, then smiles sheepishly. “Any chance you can ignore that?”

“If you don’t want to talk about it right now, that’s perfectly okay. But we do have to talk about it eventually. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you snap at Maddie, so something must have happened.”

Buck cuddles back into Eddie’s chest, revelling in his arm comfortably wrapped around his shoulders. “It’s really not a big deal, Eds. It’s just stupid.”

“Well, lucky for you, I like hearing everything you have to say. Even if it’s stupid.” 

“Did you just boop my nose?” 

“And what about it?”

All Eddie feels is the shaking from Buck’s giggling. “Shit, whoever decided I was good enough to have you in my life is someone I’d like to meet because...man, I love you.”

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Eddie smirks.

Buck hides his face in the nook of his neck. “Stop making me blush.”

“Never.”

It’s quiet again after that until Buck finally talks. “So, uh…”

“Yeah?”

“I got a wedding invitation in the mail today. It’s from my cousin, she’s getting married in Los Angeles so she invited Maddie and me. We get along just fine, always have, but I haven’t talked to her in a few years and now Maddie thinks it’s completely necessary to actually go to her wedding. I just don't know if I want to risk going and have them be there as well, you know?”

“Your parents?”

“Who else?”

“Well think about it this way. If the risk of seeing your parents again was out of the equation, would you want to go?”

Buck sighs. “Of course I would. It’d be nice to see her again and have a good time, but Eds… you know how my parents are.”

It’s true, he did know how his parents were. He remembers when they’d come to Los Angeles when they found out their first grandchild had been born. He remembers how tense Buck had been the entire time, how he let his parents walk all over him and tell him how big of a failure he was like it was a normal day to day conversation. He especially remembers yelling at Buck’s father after a particularly barbaric comment on Buck’s lifestyle. 

He knows why he’d want to avoid his parents, because Eddie would too. 

“Can you bring a plus one?”

“What?”

“Can you bring a plus one to the wedding?” He smiles when Buck nods. “Take me. If your parents are there, I’ll have your back. Plus, your cousin seems nice, I’d love to meet the family that’s not pretentious.”

Buck choked on the wine he’d taken a sip of. “You think Maddie’s pretentious?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely pretentious.” He jokes. “I mean your extended family. You’ve met mine.”

Buck sighs. “Whatever. I guess we’re going to a Buckley wedding. I really did want to see McKenna so you win.”

“I always do.” He grins before he connects his lips with Buck’s and giggles against it when his fingers press against the only ticklish part of his body.

“What? Did that tickle?” Buck gasps. “You said you weren’t ticklish!”

“I’m not!” 

“Mhm.” 

Then suddenly, the wedding worries were long forgotten, tickle war long taking its place. 

“Oooooooh, so you’re going to a wedding with him, huh?” Hen wiggles her eyebrows from where she stands across her kitchen. “That’s gonna be you one day.”

Eddie sighs exasperatedly. “Not if I have nothing planned. I wanna make this special, okay?”

Hen’s face softens. “Anything you do to propose will make it special, honey. You’re Buck’s world, a simple Marry me? would be the most romantic thing in the world to him.”

“Maybe so, but that’s how it was with Shannon. She was pregnant with Christopher so I thought the next logical step would be marriage, but this is different. Buck is different.”

“Alright, alright, let’s get to work, then.” She opens her laptop. “What are some of your favorite things about him?”

Eddie’s face erupts into a look of pure adoration at that question. “Oh, Henrietta, you have no idea what you just got yourself into, asking that. What are some of my favorite things about Evan Buckley? Let’s see… When he wakes up in the morning, he makes this cute little noise when he stretches and it makes my heart fill with joy. He loves Christopher like he’s his own and he never treats him differently. He just has so much knowledge about literally anything. Random facts upon random facts are stored in that beautiful brain of his and whenever he tells me one of these random facts, it’s suddenly the most important thing in the world. He’s so selfless, you know this. When we got together and I still wasn’t sure about being open about my sexuality, he put my fears above his own fear of telling you guys. He’s an amazing cook, so amazing I have a hard time believing that before he joined the one-eighteen the only thing he could cook was ramen. Even if he could still only cook ramen, I’d still love him, we’d just be living off of frozen food. I love the little family we’ve got going on now. I can go on for hours, but I won’t. Any of that help?” 

By the time he was done, Karen was home and trying her hardest not to tease the lovesick man.

“Oh, honey, you’ve got it bad.” Karen giggles. “Buck has it just bad, though.”

Hen clears her throat. “What’s something that’s specific to you and Buck? Christopher, too. You can always propose that way. Doing something and it’ll just come completely unexpected?”

The metaphorical light bulb over Eddie’s head flashes on. “I have it!”

It’s a Friday morning at the firehouse and Eddie finds himself next to Hen, looking over her shoulder as she helps him navigate what needs to be done to propose. 

His eyes travel up to meet his boyfriend’s as he walks up the stairs, and even though his smile is bright as he sees him, there’s bags under his eyes. The second his eyes land on Chimney though, he deflates and rolls his eyes. Chimney has a smug look and Eddie knows he definitely missed something.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Buckaroo.” 

Buck looks over to Hen and Eddie, making an exaggerated face of confusion. 

“Did you guys hear something?” 

Bobby laughs from where he’s at in the kitchen, Hen snorts, and Eddie is grinning, looking between the soon to be brother in laws.

“How mature of you, Evan.” Chimney rolls his eyes. “I just wanna talk about the wedding next week and he keeps rolling his eyes and running away. Eddie, make him stop.” 

Buck scoffs. “You’re sitting here whining and you’re calling me the immature one.” 

“I wouldn’t be whining if you just talk to me for once. I just want more information, who I’m gonna meet, if your parents are coming, c’mon give me something.”

“Alright.” Buck smirks. “For good luck, Egyptian women pinch the bride before the wedding.”

Chimney groans. “What?”

“Engagement and wedding rings are worn on the fourth fingers of the left hand because it was once thought that a vein in that finger leads directly to the heart.”

“That’s beautiful, but I wanna talk about the wedding next week.” Chimney whines.

Eddie is torn between wanting to laugh and being worried about his boyfriend. It’s obvious Chim doesn’t know that this is Buck’s classic mode of deflection, and Buck seems to know this. Eddie can tell Buck is just beginning, too. 

“Seventeen tons of gold are made into wedding rings each year in the United States.”

“Maddie says you would know more about the family that’s going to the wedding, so why won’t you just tell me?”

“Ancient Greeks and Romans thought the veil protected the bride from evil spirits. Brides have worn them ever since.”

Chimney turns to Eddie and Hen, arms out in exasperation, desperate. “Eddie!”

Eddie shrugs his shoulder. “If he doesn’t wanna talk about the wedding, don’t make him talk about the wedding. I’m not gonna make my f- my boyfriend do something he doesn’t want to do.” 

Buck’s too distracted in his minds’ files of facts on weddings to tell Chimney to hear him almost slip up, but Chimney’s got his eyebrow raised and he hears Hen snicker under her breath, nice one. 

Chimney eyes him suspiciously for a moment before he goes back to the problem at hand. “Maddie doesn’t know her cousin all that well, she’s more around Buck’s age, I just want to know what I should expect because I know how the Buckley’s are. Why can’t you just tell me something, man?”

“The most expensive wedding was Sheik Rashad Bin Al Maktoum’s son’s marriage to Princess Salama in Dubai in 1981. It was forty-four million dollars.”

“What about your cousin’s wedding?”

“In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness.”

Before Chimney can ask once more, Eddie cuts in again. “He hasn’t seen anyone in his family in years, why would he know who’s going?”

“Thank you!” Buck sighs and drops next to Eddie, who shuts his laptop so fast it probably would have broken the screen. “I have plenty of more facts about weddings if you want to keep talking about the wedding, though.”

Chimney hears the message it is and sighs. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like talking about your family. I’m just feeling a little anxious here, ya know?”

Buck sighs. “Me too, Chim. But if it helps you any, McKenna is not at all as pretentious and callous as my parents. That’s all I can and want to tell you about though, so please… Let it go.” 

Hen reaches over and places her hand on Buck’s in an attempt of comfort before her soft smile turns to a smirk. “So Buckaroo, why do you know so much about weddings?”

Eddie’s eyes go comically wide. 

“A little late night reading.” He shrugs. 

“Hm.” She turns to Eddie with a smirk when Bobby calls Buck over to help.

Eddie groans softly, resting his head on the cold wood of the dining table. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Three days later, Eddie finds himself at a jewelry shop on Wilshire with Hen and Karen.

“I feel like all of these rings look the same.” He whines. 

“You’ve looked at four rings and this store is huge.” Hen rolls her eyes. “You’ll know when you’ve found the right ring, okay?”

“Will I?”

Karen snorts. “Yes, you will. Trust me, I went through this same thing when I was proposing to Hen. You’ll just know.”

So Eddie keeps looking. He’s completely indecisive as if it’s him that’s going to be wearing the ring, because Buck definitely wouldn’t care about a fancy ring or any ring at all, but Eddie needs it to be special. 

“How about this?” Karen calls from the other end of the store. When Eddie reaches her, she’s pointing at a black band, definitely something he can automatically picture on Buck’s hand. It still didn’t feel right to him, though. He says as much to Karen before he starts searching the glass case in front of them for more. 

He gasps as soon as he sees it. Hen was right about just knowing.

He calls over the jeweler and asks to see it. The second he’s holding it in between his fingers, he can see himself getting down on one knee. He can see it on Buck’s ring finger, shining brightly to everyone Buck proudly shows it to. It’s definitely the ring.

“This is it.” He grins, looking side to side at the women standing next to him and then smiles at the jeweler. 

Karen and Hen squeal loudly. “What is it about this ring, Diaz-Buckley?” 

“In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness.”

[ashtheshortstack]

take my scars & make them stars - ch 5

Rating: M Ship: Kristoff/Anna Chapter Five

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Sick Fic, Cancer Fic, Chronic Illness, Chemotherapy, Modern AU, Coffee Shop AU, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Mentions of Character Death

Read on Ao3

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter

Anna usually went to the coffee shop after treatments, but she decided to have a different routine that day. Surely, Kristoff wouldn’t mind if she popped in on a different day. If Anna was honest with herself, despite their constant messaging and videos…. she missed him. And she was having one of her bad days, so it’d be nice to see him. The need to see him seemed so silly since they’d just gone to the park a week prior, but Anna could never really get enough of him. She didn’t know a--whatever they had--could feel like this. She’d spent so much wasted time with Hans, but she’d never felt like this. 

Never had she felt so cared for… Even from her own family. Sure, Elsa tried her best now. And it wasn’t her fault she was kept away when they were children. But, her sister had stayed a little distant until the diagnosis. Which was probably because of Hans, and Anna didn’t blame her for that. 

Anna was grateful that Elsa opened her door to her when she said she was leaving Hans. She was glad Gerda and her sister still wanted to be with her after she left, despite both of them warning her that Hans was bad news. They probably believed she would eventually come to her senses. And hoped she would move on. And although Anna hadn’t expected to move on so quickly after such a long term relationship, it was like a breath of fresh air. Even though… if she were honest with herself, the time with Hans hadn’t felt like a relationship in years. It had just become a regular constant in her life. Not actually anything with true meaning anymore. 

So, walking into the coffee shop and seeing that familiar smoothed back ginger hair had Anna completely disoriented. Her chest tightened as she swallowed thickly. There was a familiar crowd of frat boys at the table, including those two guys--Erik and Francis--that Hans had started to hang out with frequently right before their break-up. There were cute sorority girls attached to their arms, smiling and laughing along with them in their seats. There must’ve been some event nearby, and they’d all stopped by for coffee.

Of course, Anna rationally knew by living in the same college town that there was a chance of running into Hans. Arendelle was big but not that big. But she just didn’t think it’d happen. She’d gone months without seeing him, so he’d not really been on her radar. What were the chances he’d show up in the very coffee shop her new, uh, not boyfriend worked at?

Kristoff saw her when she entered, and while he seemed a bit stunned to see her, he grinned fondly--completely unaware of the mental collapse she was experiencing. Anna kept glancing in Hans’ direction, hoping he wouldn’t notice her. She forced a small smile, and instead of approaching the counter, she pointed to the table that they normally occupied during her visits. Kristoff furrowed his brows, looking a bit concerned, but nodded anyway. 

She returned the gesture and headed towards the seat. Anna huddled herself in the corner, busying with her phone in an attempt to avoid drawing any attention. God, she wanted to kick herself for not wearing makeup that day… or just dressing up at all. She hadn’t felt great that day to begin with, that’s part of the reason she’d wanted so badly to see Kristoff to cheer her up. She’d just left her house in an Arendelle University sweatshirt with leggings and comfy running shoes. And one of her beanies, of course. She was full “sick girl” style… and it pissed her off that Hans could see her in such a state. Anna wanted him to know she was strong, didn’t need him, and was fighting her cancer just fine. In fact, she’d felt better than she ever had. The therapy included in her treatments worked wonders… It was group therapy, but it helped to rant about Hans in the times she needed it. 

Her eyes kept flickering around as she scrolled through her phone. Not really reading the content in front of her, she was mostly paranoid about being seen. She felt her blood boil when she recognized the blonde girl she’d caught him macking on the day of her diagnosis. There was part of her that wanted to confront him. To call him out on what a bastard he was. 

But she couldn’t. It wasn’t a battle she wanted to fight. Anna just wanted to enjoy her day, despite how utterly drained she felt. 

Kristoff’s gaze never left her. That frown was plastered on his lips. She knew he could tell something was wrong. That was just one of his many quirks: reading her like a book. Anna watched him as he called Ryder over to take the register and he stalked over to her, apron and name tag still on and everything. Quickly, he pulled up a seat next to her and looked her over.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” 

Anna simply shakes her head. The last thing she wants to do is to upset him while he’s working. She knows how fierce Kristoff’s sneer is, and she doesn’t want to get him fired for glaring down a paying customer. “It’s nothing. J-Just a lot of people in here is all.” 

The blonde scoffs at that. “You got that right. They had a fall festival event for the Greek organizations at the park,” he smirked leaning in to her. “You would not believe how many pumpkin spice lattes I’ve had to make in the last hour.” 

She couldn’t help but giggle at that. Pushing him gently back by his shoulder, Anna smiled up at him. “When is your break?” 

“In about twenty minutes? But if you need me, I’m yours, okay?” 

Her heart fluttered at that. Nodding, she agreed. “Yeah.” 

Kristoff gave a gentle squeeze to her shoulder with a reassuring smile. Giving her one more once over, he seemed hesitant to leave her, but he stood and went back to work. 

Despite her spike in anxiety, he really had helped her calm down. At least a little. She felt safe when he was there, but now she felt exposed to the world again. So, she returned to scrolling through her phone. If only she had earbuds so she could drown out the crowd. But she was pretty sure she’d forgotten them on the counter. 

Her phone suddenly chimed, startling her but when she saw the ID was Elsa, she instantly answered. 

“Hello?” 

“Anna, where are you?” 

Blinking, she was a bit stunned by her sister’s harsh tone. “I’m at Arendelle Roasts, why?” 

“Did you cook something?” 

“Uh, yeah? I wanted to lighten the load on Gerda since I was at home all day and baked the chicken for dinner ahead of time.” 

“You left the oven on.” 

“Oh. Oh, God, Elsa… I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean--I’m so--ugh!” Anna grimaced, smacking herself in the face. God, chemo brain was so stupid! So, not only had she left her earbuds on the counter, she’d also almost burned the house down. Fuck, could this day get any worse!?

“Hey, hey, hey--calm down, Anna, it’s okay. No one got hurt. Just double check from now on, okay?” 

“Okay… I just--I’m sorry, it’s only the afternoon and this has already been a horrible day.” 

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you with Kristoff?” 

Anna tapped the table, glancing her in her ex-fiance’s direction, glad to see his back was still to her. “Yeah, it’s who else is here. Uh--you-know-who.” 

“Hans is there!?” 

“Yes. And he hasn’t seen me yet, and I’m just trying to keep it that way.” 

“Do you want me to come get you?” 

“No. I’ll be fine.” 

After a few more brief reassurances from her sister, they exchanged “love you”s and “goodbye”. When she hung up the phone, she was grateful that she was still alone. There was a small glance from Kristoff, but she just grinned at him and he bobbed his head before returning to customers. It was very crowded. She was lucky their table wasn’t taken when she walked in. Kristoff and Ryder were busy bees as they sped through multiple orders. Their teamwork was impeccable, really. Anna wasn’t sure how on earth Kristoff would be able to take his break. 

She was so lost in watching the boys work that when Hans suddenly stood, it completely startled her. Gasping, she hurriedly looked down at her phone, hoping he hadn’t noticed her. He was at the counter, ordering something else it seemed. When he turned towards her, Anna felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. She glanced up fully, and Hans was staring at her. He arched a brow, squinting harshly at her as he slowly processed who she was. It disgusted her to see Kristoff speak so politely to her ex as he handed over the drink. Hans’ expression changed to that fake pretty boy smile as he thanked him for the drink. But she saw the way his eyes changed, the way his lips quirked into a smirk as he meandered towards her seat. 

Feeling her eyes widen, she went back to piddling on her phone. She could just pretend she had no idea who he was. Maybe, he’d think she was some other girl with cancer? The treatment center was highly regarded around the country, so there were a lot of patients in the area. Anna just lucked out with living in such a prosperous town. 

Hans pulled out the chair, sitting down in front of her with that smarmy look on his face. She ignored him. Not even sparing him a glance. 

“Well, this is the last place I expected to see you,” he said with a chuckle. 

His voice made her skin crawl. She hid her flinch pretty well, she was sure. Anna still didn’t pay him any mind and casually played a word game on her phone. Maybe her constant swiping would pester him enough to leave. He usually had a problem with the way she did anything.  

Tapping the table, Hans took a sip of his drink. “You could at least acknowledge me, Anna. You’re lucky I’m even speaking to you while you look like that.” 

Anna decided to muster her best Kristoff scowl as she slowly lowered her phone. She kept her gaze hard, lips in a harsh frown. “What do you want ?” she growled with as much venom as she could muster. 

His brow twitched. “That’s rude. Is this how you treat all of the men who spare you a glance?” 

“Too bad you’re not a man, you’re just a cheating coward,” Anna said, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. 

Hans laughed at her words. Which fueled her anger even more. “Such big bad words for someone who looks like she can’t even fight off a fly.” 

“Everything is about appearances for you, isn’t it!?” she spat, standing quickly. 

Anna felt her nostrils flare, her body shook as hot hatred brewed inside her. Heart pounding, her hands clenched against the table. And while Hans seemed a bit shocked at the display, he still didn’t move. He would learn that she wasn’t that meek little girl she manipulated for far too many years despite how she looked on the outside. 

She wasn’t even sure when Kristoff got there. 

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?” he asked, voice cool and professional despite the anger Anna recognized in his eyes. 

He was glancing at Anna seeming to beg for an answer, but she just crossed her arms. Staring her ex-fiance down with as much fury as she could. 

Hans waved him off. “Oh, nothing to be concerned about. Her bark is far worse than her bite.” 

Kristoff’s lips parted at his words, brows shooting past his bangs. “Uh, do you know her?” 

“This is Hans. My ex-fiance,” she murmured. 

The blonde gaped. “Your what?”  

Hans snorted. “Yes, it’s embarrassing to even admit I was with someone like you. You know I’ve always had more of a preference for blondes? Maybe, if you had looked a little more like Elsa, I would’ve found you sexier.” 

Kristoff’s jaw snapped shut and clenched. If Hans didn’t shut up, Anna was worried her ex may get decked. Not that she would complain. But Kristoff was working, and that would definitely not look good with his boss. 

Shaking her head, Anna scoffed. “Oh, c’mon. You’re pathetic if you think you can goad me.” 

“Goad you into what? I’m not afraid of a fragile, desperate, little wallflower like you. Do you know how much it pained me to deal with you for all those years when I didn’t even get the pay out? And I already knew how I wanted to spend our money.” he smirked. 

She knew what he was doing. Trying to manipulate her into reacting. Into doing what he wanted. Forcing her into acting. Just as always, trying to be the victim. Make her look like the aggressor to the crowd of people. 

He can’t hurt me anymore , she reminded herself. His words meant nothing. Hans Westergaard was nothing to her. 

“Look at yourself, Anna. All you ever wanted was for someone to love you and now? What man would ever desire someone like you?” 

Kristoff’s hand slammed onto the table, startling both of them, and a few customers at nearby tables. “I would,” he snarled. Anna’s breath caught in her throat. A flood of emotions began to overwhelm her. Gripping Hans by the arm, the blonde brought him to a stand. “I would appreciate it if you’d leave, sir. I’m sure my boss would not be too pleased to hear you’re harassing one of our favorite customers.” 

Hans glanced between the two of them before jerking his arm away. “I see. Well, don’t expect any more business from any of us,” he retorted with a glare.

“I can live with that.” 

As Hans began to move away, Anna’s feet were suddenly moving on their own. She hadn’t thought through her actions. She didn’t know what came over her. But there was a sick sense of satisfaction when she smacked Hans’ cup in his hand, making him pour the contents all over his clothes. He shouted, gaining more attention from the crowded shop. There was a chorus of laughter from his Greek comrades as Hans flicked coffee off his hands and looked down at his ruined shirt. 

“You bitch,” he hissed taking a step towards her. 

But Kristoff was faster, getting between the two of them. “Touch her, and you answer to me.” His voice was deep and dark. The fire in those honey-brown eyes spoke more volumes than his words ever could. 

Anna blinked innocently. “I’m sorry. I get muscle spasms sometimes. It’s a side effect from chemo,” she chimed loud enough for the witnesses to hear. 

With a glare, Hans straightened out his shirt, standing taller and stomping back over to his friends. They quickly gathered, standing and leaving the shop as some of the girls went back to buy a few sweets to go. When he was finally out of the coffee shop, Anna felt her shoulders deflate. Her wobbly legs somehow led her back to a chair as she practically collapsed into it. 

She knew the spike in blood pressure was not good for her. But she was so proud of herself. Even though… she honestly just wanted to cry. Her eyes watered, tearing pricking the corners as she quickly wiped them away. 

Kristoff’s expression was almost unreadable. There were so many emotions etched along his face. With a sigh, he turned to her. “Are you okay?” 

Sniffling, she nodded. “Yeah.” 

He cocked a brow. “I’ll be back.” 

When he walked off, Anna felt her heart plummet to her stomach. She should’ve told Kristoff about Hans much sooner. She was kicking herself for not being honest with him. It was just something she wasn’t fond of talking about. Just springing “hey, i was engaged!” on someone wasn’t a reasonable thing to do. Especially not in a relationship that wasn’t labeled yet. 

Anna was stunned to see Kristoff come around the corner in his regular clothes. No apron or name tag in sight. He bobbed his head towards the door. “Let’s go.” 

“Go? Go where? What about your shift?” 

“I have time I can put in. Honeymaren is already here in the back to cover for me. I’m taking you home.” 

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, God, Kristoff. I’m so sorry. I’m totally disrupting your life. I didn’t mean--” 

Taking her hands, he pulled Anna to a stand. “Hey, hey, none of that. We’ll talk on the way, okay?” 

Anna nodded. “Okay…” 

                                                      o~o~o~o

  They didn’t talk on the way. The truck ride to her home was awkwardly silent. Anna couldn’t help but feel like Kristoff was upset with her. And he had every right to be. She just waltzed into the coffee shop while he was working, had a confrontation with her ex-fiance he didn’t even know about, then forced him to leave his shift early to take her home. It was completely justified if he was furious with her. 

When they reached her home, Kristoff put the truck into park. Before she could change her mind, Anna turned to him. “Do you want to come in?” 

He seemed stunned, but nodded nonetheless. 

Anna opened the door, grateful when she noted there was no one there to ask questions as to why he was here. Kristoff followed her up the stairs as she guided him to her room. He seemed just as in awe of the inside of her home as he had of the outside. Hopping on the bed, Anna patted the place across from her so they could talk face to face about this. 

She crossed her legs as Kristoff mirrored her position and looked at her. He sat silently, waiting for her to speak. It took a few moments for her to gather her courage, but Kristoff never rushed her. He just sat patiently as he always did. 

Finally, she sucked in a breath. “Hans and I met in high school. I was young and dumb and desperate for a happily ever after. People talk about how romantic it is to marry your high school sweetheart, so I convinced myself that’s what we were,” Anna gazed down at her lap, watching her thumbs fiddle in her lap. “It was all a lie. Hans was so, ugh, convincing . I believed every word he said. I believed him when he told me I was a bad girlfriend if I didn’t do as he wanted. I’d never been in a relationship, how was I supposed to know? As you saw today… Hans was only with me because I have money. And don’t get me wrong his family is loaded, but he didn’t want to have to share with his brothers.” 

Kristoff was nodding, absorbing her words like a sponge. “So, what happened? How’d you get out?” 

“I had been miserable since we graduated. As soon as he started college, he got worse. More...manipulative than before. Loved drama. Knew how to get under my skin and pick a fight. I knew he was cheating on me, but I just kept pretending he wasn’t. It was just too much. Then… I got diagnosed. And I knew if I was going to be in the fight of my life, then I didn’t want to spend it with Hans. Plus, like hell would I let him get my money if I didn’t make it.” 

Snorting at that, he agreed. “True,” he said. She watched him purse his lips, seeming to think something over. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Anna smiled sadly. “I planned to. I just never felt like I had a reasonable opportunity. Our first date already had such heavy discussions that I didn’t want the added bonus of ‘hey, I had a fiance’ on top of it. I just never wanted to ruin the moment.” 

“I understand.” 

Sighing, she felt her shoulders deflate. “I’m sorry for all the shit I caused today. This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.” 

Kristoff chuckled at that, nervously scratching at his neck. “It was a shock, for sure. But you have nothing to apologize for. You were so badass.” 

“Really?” she giggled, hugging herself slightly.

“Yeah. And when smacked his coffee on him? I had to try so hard not to laugh.” 

Anna busted a breathy laugh. “It felt pretty great. You know… the day I left I punched him in the face.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah…” 

“God, you’re amazing.” 

They shared a small laugh, but suddenly… Anna felt all of the anger and hatred she felt for Hans bubbling to the surface. All of the horrid things he’d said to her floated in her head. Despite not caring for Hans for a long time, what he said still hurt. It hadn’t been too long ago that he was still a part of her life. When she still let him control her. And she didn’t want to give him that power over her again, but it was hurtful anyway. 

She felt herself fall silent, hugging herself tighter and looking away from him. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Anna gave a bitter hiss. “I just… He basically admitted that I was nothing to him. Even said I wasn’t as pretty as Elsa and said that I’m even worse off now. It’s so disgusting. It makes me so angry that I let him touch me when he didn’t even find me attractive. That I gave him my virginity. He didn’t deserve me like that. And I deserved better.” 

Crawling towards her, Kristoff came to sit beside her. His hand rubbed comforting circles on her back. “You’re right, he never deserved you. But you made the right decision for yourself in getting out. I’m grateful you’re here now. I… I really like being with you, Anna.” 

“Me too,” she smiled up at him. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me through all of this.” 

“I’m glad I can be here for you,” he said. His smile was so sweet and genuine. She’d never seen someone whose honesty was plastered on their face. 

Anna felt her cheeks heat a little as she leaned in closer. She noticed his eyes flick to her lips and back to her eyes. It had her heart pounding. Was he going to kiss her? Did he want to? She wanted to… 

Kristoff cupped her cheek, pulling her in slightly before closing the gap between them. The kiss was featherlight. Barely just a brush of their lips together. But it was enough to have her eyes fluttering shut, and leaning into his touch as he deepened the kiss. She sighed, letting out a small, happy hum. Kristoff chuckled in response, laughing against her lips. 

For an absolutely shitty day… Anna decided it didn’t end as badly as it began.

[ft-dads-au]

She Was My Home

Home for the Holidays 2019 Prompt: Home A Collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​ AO3 | FF.Net

August 2nd, 2020

Gray sat on the couch, watching the news on the TV while Lyon sat at the dining room table, preparing for a case he was presenting in court the following day. Aki sat next to his father, flipping through the pages of a board book, trying to repeat some of the words Gray had read to him earlier.

Gray couldn’t help but smile at the way his son’s legs didn’t even make it to the edge of the sofa.

“Hungwy, dada, pillaw hungwy,” Aki pointed at the page on his book, but Gray didn’t even have to look.

“That’s right, Aki! The caterpillar is hungry. What a smart boy you are!” Aki’s face lit up at the compliment, and he quickly turned the page wanting to impress his father some more.

Gray noticed the sad look on Aki’s face and quickly intervened, “Would you like me to read it to you again?”

Before he had even finished speaking, Aki had already climbed onto his lap eagerly and handed the book over. Gray could hear a chuckle and looked up to glare at Lyon.

“What? It just amazes me how good you are at this,” Lyon teased, getting up from the table and making his way into the kitchen to get a drink, “You never had any patience, but this suits you somehow.”

Gray resisted the urge to retort, going back to the book when his phone rang. Looking down at the caller ID, he saw it was his brother.

“Can you look at the pages for a little bit? Daddy needs to take this.”

“Kay, dada,” Gray kissed the top of Aki’s head, overcome by the cuteness of the voice before answering his phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi. Listen, I got a call from Gildarts a little while ago, seems that something’s up with Natsu. He wants to get a group together to meet at Fairy Tail.”

“That pink-haired guy? He’s annoying, pass.”

“Come on, Gray, part of being in this club is to help others through tough times.”

“He is a tough time,” Gray pointed out, his mind immediately going to all the times the two of them had butted heads.

“You know it wouldn’t hurt for you to go out more, make some friends.”

“I already have as many friends as I need, so if that’s all I’m gonna go now,” Gray replied, about to hang up when he felt Lyon grab the phone away from him.

“Hey Rogue, what’s going on?” Gray could only hear Lyon’s side of the conversation, but he knew the polite way he was responding did not bode well for him.

“Alright, tell Sting we’ll see him there,” Lyon paused for a moment before adding, “Got it, see you soon.”

Gray glared at his friend, “I had said no.”

“You always say no,”

“I don’t even like the guy.”

“Not the point. When you came here you said you wanted to start your life over, I don’t think you meant sitting in my living room day after day watching television. Live a little.”

“I was about to read to Aki,” Gray tried to use the Aki card as a last resort, but he should have known better because if there was one thing he hadn’t expected when he’d arrived in Magnolia it was that shy Aki would take so well to his Unka Lyon.

Lyon smiled at Aki, who immediately perked up. “Would you like for Uncle Lyon to read you that book while Daddy packs you a bag?”

“Unbelievable, ” Gray complained when Aki scrambled out of his lap and ran to Lyon. He knew when he was beaten, so after handing the book over, Gray headed to his room, figuring he might as well take a quick shower and change his clothes.

“Rogue and your mom are gonna watch the kids so we can meet up with Sting,” Lyon called out.

“Then why are you coming?”

“Insurance.”

Gray rolled his eyes, hating being treated like a child but also acknowledging he wouldn’t be going otherwise. Lyon was annoying, but he wasn’t wrong. It had been a long time since he went anywhere without Aki, especially anywhere meant for adults.

He looked through his closet, trying to think of what to wear. Most of his clothes were things he would have worn in Crocus, where he’d had an image to maintain. They seemed out of place for Magnolia, but he managed to find a pair of ripped jeans and a button-down shirt that looked more blue-collar than fashion staple. He grabbed the rest of the items he’d need and entered the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, he was dressed and had added a few items to his usual baby bag. “Alright, let’s go.”

Aki had fallen asleep cuddled into Lyon, and Gray was surprised by how relaxed his friend looked. He’d probably make a great dad someday, Aki didn’t seem to like too many people, but he’d warmed up to Lyon very quickly.

They headed out of the house as quietly as they could, buckling Aki into the car seat and driving the short distance to his old home, where Sting and Rogue now lived.

0-0

“Hey, Erza, how’re you doing?” Sting asked awkwardly, never really knowing how to behave in front of Natsu’s rather stern-looking older sister.

“Sting,” Erza greeted, moving out of the way and gesturing him inside.

“Sting?” Natsu came out of the kitchen with Atlas, his two-year-old son, toddling behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, Rogue wanted to spend some time catching up with his mom, so I, uhm, came over to see if you wanted to have dinner with me.” Sting tried to make his smile seem sincere, but even he knew he was acting strangely. He was a terrible liar, always had been.

Natsu immediately turned his attention towards his sister, searching her face before looking back at Sting.

“I see, well tonight’s actually not a good night for me, maybe another time?”

“Nonsense,” Erza chirped, grabbing Natsu’s scarf from where it was hanging on a peg by the door and handing it to him. “It’s a lovely night, and the kids will be going to bed soon. I can handle things here. Go eat, have some cake, you deserve it!”

Sting had a feeling he knew what this might be about, and he wondered if it was a good idea to force Natsu to come out when he clearly didn’t want to. But he’d promised Rogue he’d try and the truth was Natsu was one of the few people he counted as a friend. If he could do something to ease his burden a little, he would try his best.

“Yeah, the truth is you’d be doing me a favor,” Sting flashed a smile at Natsu, “I hate eating alone.”

Natsu looked decidedly unhappy about the situation, but he wrapped the scarf around his neck without putting up any fuss, clearly knowing when he was beaten. Atlas, who had been holding on to his father’s leg during the whole exchange, peeked out and recognizing Sting transferred his leg grip to him, chubby cheeks stretched into an infectious grin much like his father’s on a good day.

Sting found himself looking down and grinning in return. He offered his arms, and Atlas quickly let go of his leg and grabbed on so he could be picked up.

“Cookie Monster! How’s your head doing, still closed?” He pretended to check Atlas’ head wound as he always did. “Yep, it looks like I get to keep my job for another day.”

Atlas giggled, and Sting ruffled his hair gently, giving him a quick hug before setting him down. He could see Natsu relaxing a little at the exchange and waited patiently as his friend said goodbye to Atlas and yelled out a goodbye to Hana.

Minutes later, they were on their way, Sting driving them to Fairy Tail, where they were supposed to meet the others later.

“You didn’t have to do this, I really am fine.”

Sting tried to seem like he had no idea what Natsu meant but decided against it. “Don’t worry so much, this is great! I rarely get to go out with friends. My life is pretty much hospital, and Rogue and kids, which you know is great but,” Sting realized what he’d said and felt like an asshole.

“You don’t have to watch what you say around me.” Natsu sighed, “ This is why I don’t like telling people about… about what happened,” Natsu managed to get out, “Let’s just eat.”

“Is there something about today, or are you just having a bad day?”

Natsu remained silent until they arrived at the bar, waiting until Sting had parked the car to respond, “It’s her birthday.”

He opened the door of the car and got out, while Sting stayed a moment longer, having no idea what to do or say to make his friend feel better.

0-0

Gray and Lyon arrived at Fairy Tail around eight o'clock. The bar was relatively empty, which was not entirely surprising, considering it was a Sunday night. They looked around, not sure who was coming until they heard Gildarts’ distinctive laugh originating from a table in the back. They made their way over to him, finding him surrounded by a bevy of women who all seemed to be hanging on to his every word.

Gray cringed, the reconciliation talks between Gildarts and his father must not be going well. He honestly wasn’t sure who to feel sorry for at this point. He’d have to have a chat with Cana sometime soon. She always seemed to have more info on what was going on between their fathers.

Silver had been incredibly tight-lipped on the matter, outside of finally admitting what Gray had suspected for years. His father and Gildarts had been in a serious relationship a long time ago. One which Silver had dissolved because he’d wanted a family, which even Gray had to acknowledge was a shitty thing to do.

Gildarts greeted them warmly, dismissing his ladies with an apologetic smile.

“Care to tell me what I’m doing here?” Gray grumbled into the drink that had miraculously appeared in front of him.

“What do you mean? I asked all of Natsu’s friends to be here.”

“I am not Natsu’s friend, Gildarts, in case you haven’t noticed I barely tolerate the guy.”

Gildarts gave Gray a look he didn’t quite understand but immediately irritated him, causing Lyon to snort beside him. “Well, let’s just say he makes you come alive, so maybe you can return the favor.”

“And what exactly is wrong?”

Gildarts blinked at him, “It’s not my place to say, but his sister was very worried about him, so here we are. It’s what we do in this club, Sport, we support each other. Today it’s for him, tomorrow it might be for you.”

“And when are we having one for you?” Gray challenged, and although he knew he was kind of being an asshole, he was honestly concerned.

“That’s different, that topic is off the table, especially with you and the Half-Pint.” Gildarts took a drink from his beer, ordering another round before any of them had a chance to finish the one in front of them.

“Who else is coming?” Lyon asked, wanting to steer the conversation towards safer topics.

“Macao, Loke, and Sting and Natsu, I think.”

“Loke?” Lyon groaned, which cheered Gray up considerably.

“What’s wrong with Loke?” Gildarts raised an eyebrow.

“Nevermind, you would like him, he’s like a junior version of you.” Lyon frowned as he took a swig of his beer, “So what are we supposed to do exactly?”

“This friendship thing is a new concept for you two, huh? Just talk to the kid, get his mind off whatever’s bothering him and listen to him if he feels like talking. It’s not rocket science, you know.”

Gray could only think that in his experience, rocket science was much more straightforward.

0-0

Natsu and Sting were led to a table where they proceeded to hide behind two large menus.

“So, what’s good here?” Sting asked, mostly to make some sort of conversation but also because the last time he’d eaten at Fairy Tail had been some time in medical school.

“I don’t know, just about everything, I guess, Mira’s a pretty good cook,” Natsu shrugged disinterestedly.

Sting bit his lip, trying to figure out how to bring up the topic, “Uhm, Mira is Lisanna’s older sister, isn’t she?”

Natsu fixed him with a glare, one that was most decidedly screaming back off. Still, he answered, “Yeah.”

Every question Sting asked from that point forward was deflected, and he didn’t know how to handle it. He wished Rogue were there since he was much better at getting to the heart of things than he was.

He texted Gildarts that they were upstairs, and it wasn’t going well. Gildarts advised him not to push more than Natsu was ready for, so they spent the rest of the meal talking about some of Sting’s more interesting cases at the hospital, which seemed to at least relax Natsu somewhat.

When dinner was over, Natsu insisted on paying since it was his fault that Sting had been forced to take him out, and after some initial resistance, Sting allowed it. He was desperate to get Natsu

downstairs, hoping the others would succeed where he had failed.

Natsu peered at Sting with a pleading expression, “Can we go now?”

Sting’s fingers danced underneath the table as he texted an SOS to Gildarts, glancing down quickly when he felt his phone vibrate.

Help is on the way…

Sting stifled the urge to facepalm as he heard the loud ring of Gildarts’ laughter coming up the stairs. If there was one thing Gildarts was not, it was subtle. He saw two heads of orange hair coming towards them, Gildarts sporting his usual grin, while Loke seemed to at least look a bit uncomfortable.

“Hey, Loke, are those Natsu and Sting over there?” Gildarts drawled and without even waiting for a response headed over to their table.

“Firefly, I didn’t know you ever went out for fun!” Gildarts hugged Natsu briefly, patting his back roughly before letting go.

“This is perfect, Macao just bailed on us,” Gildarts ran the fingers of his prosthetic hand through his hair, “Something about Romeo, wasn’t really paying attention. But here you are, and you should have a drink with us!”

Natsu’s eyes widened the moment he recognized Gildarts, and he examined Sting’s guilty expression for a moment before sighing, “Just how many people did my sister call?”

“I’m sorry, she’s worried about you. We all are.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, I’m getting everything done that needs to get done.”

“Look, kid, we know you miss her, it would be a miracle if you didn’t, but you have to keep going too. Not just for your kids but for you.”

“If I have a drink with you guys, will you let it go? Just tell Erza you talked to me, and I was fine.” Natsu’s eyes implored all of them.

“Sure, let’s go downstairs, okay?” Loke grabbed Natsu by the arm and tugged him towards the stairs, and Natsu followed docilely enough.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” Sting prodded Gildarts as they followed, “He seriously doesn’t want to talk about this.”

“He has to some time. Otherwise, he’ll never begin to grieve properly.”

“I dunno–”

“You’re going to have to trust me on this one.”

0-0

Gray watched as Loke brought Natsu downstairs with Sting and Gildarts following closely behind. He studied Natsu’s expression for any hint as to why they were here, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Green eyes that were typically blazing with life now appeared dull, and that stupid grin was nowhere to be seen. Sure, Gray had to admit that Natsu looked heartbroken, but so what? He guessed that they had all been there at least once in their life. Was this seriously the reason for Gildarts to round them all up for a night at the bar?

He didn’t like going out anymore, even with people he trusted, it just made him feel too exposed. If the wrong person recognized him, it would be all over social media. Gray knew it was only a matter of time before Siegrain found out where he was, but if he managed to find him before he was ready, things could get complicated. He’d only managed to hide this long by not touching any of his money or credit cards since he’d left, only using the money he’d managed to sneak in Aki’s savings account.

He was more concerned about what could happen if Siegrain decided to try to take Aki away from him. Even the idea of joint custody was something Gray couldn’t stomach, already knowing that Siegrain had no problem with hitting Aki, especially if he knew it would be the most effective way to hurt Gray.

Gray needed to give Lyon more time to find a way to keep Siegrain away from Aki permanently. These were real problems he needed to be working on rather than wasting his time trying to console some lovesick idiot. One that didn’t look like he wanted help at that.

He saw the exact moment Natsu noticed him, the man’s green eyes becoming even more guarded than they had been before, and Gray could feel his blood boiling. Why was he even here?

The fact of the matter was he didn’t particularly care for Natsu, and it was obvious the feeling was mutual, but he reminded himself he’d promised to behave and so he would try his best regardless.

However, he decided there was no harm in speeding things along, so when a waitress walked by, he ordered a round of shots for the table, and with a vindictive grin made sure to put them on Gildarts’ tab.

Lyon raised an eyebrow at his sudden fit of helpfulness but remained silent. It seemed Natsu worked as a bartender at Crime Sorciere, the bar Lyon frequented near his office, and his friend had taken a liking to him.

By the time Natsu reached the table, the shots were already lined up and waiting. He wrinkled his nose at the alcohol, and Gray made sure to down his quickly, staring at Natsu in silent challenge.

Natsu gazed at him for what felt like a long time before grabbing the shot and gulping it down, grimacing at the bitter taste of the alcohol.

The other men at the table tossed their shots back without effort. Gildarts immediately caught one of the waitresses’ attention with a small wave and his signature charming smile, ready to order another round. Sting was tapping out already, smiling apologetically at Loke, whose valiant attempts to fix him up with just one more round were in vain.

“I’d love to, but it’s not happening,” Sting sighed, “I’m choosing my battles very carefully.”

“Now that’s an interesting way of admitting that you’re whipped,” Loke quipped back at him with a smirk, using provocation to try and succeed where persuasion had failed.

“I’m not. Rogue is a bomb I’ve learned to defuse. But I’m driving both Natsu and myself back home later tonight, and I’m guessing you’ve never met Natsu’s sister? I don’t know how she’d feel about me potentially drunk driving her brother back home, and I’m not planning to find out either.”

Gray quickly drank the next shot, slamming the glass on the table as soon as he was done and waiting to see what Natsu would do. He seemed to vacillate for just a moment before copying him, but before Gray could say or do anything, he turned towards Sting and, for some reason Gray couldn’t even begin to understand Natsu’s dismissal bothered him.

Gray wanted to get out of this bar and back to Lyon’s house, why wasn’t Natsu cooperating?

“What’s going on over there?” Loke asked curiously, commenting on the tension between Natsu and Gray.

“I think Gray is about to work his magic,” Gildarts muttered, “If there is one thing the Fullbuster’s are good at, it’s their lack of patience, and they are easily irritated. Gray doesn’t want to be here any more than Natsu does. Sooner or later, he’s gonna say something to set Natsu off, and then… well, then I think we’ll finally get somewhere.”

“Wait, you’re saying you purposefully invited Gray here just to fuck with Natsu?” Lyon protested, “What happened to friendship and all that stuff you were saying earlier?”

“I mean it would be nice if they got along, but you’ve seen them,” Gildarts shrugged as he continued to drink, “Natsu is a powder keg that’s ready to explode, and Gray might just be the spark we need to get him to open up.”

0-0

Gray watched with dismay as the others tried to reach Natsu, asking him question after question which Natsu managed to deflect with almost admirable skill, but after about thirty minutes of this, Gray had had enough.

“For God’s sake Dragneel, why don’t you just tell them what they want to know so we can all get the hell out of here and go home?!”

As far as incendiary remarks went, this was pretty tame, he had much better ones stored in his arsenal, but to Gray’s surprise, he watched Natsu’s whole body recoil as if he’d wounded him deeply. Even worse, his eyes were welling up.

“You want to go home?” Natsu’s voice was so quiet that Gray had to strain to hear him, “That must be nice. I’d like to go home too, but I can’t do that. Not now, not ever again.”

“What are you talking about, didn’t Sting bring you from home?”

“That’s not my home. That’s just the house I live in with my sister,“ the tears had begun to flow, and although Gray didn’t understand how his innocent statement had led to this, he felt the beginnings of guilt, and he didn’t like it. What did he have to feel guilty about? Natsu was the one who was overreacting.

“What the hell could you possibly have to be so upset about, huh? Did your wife kick you out or something? Is that what this is all about?”

Natsu’s hands were clenching into fists, and Sting was moving towards the two of them only to be stopped by Gildarts grabbing on to his arm. Sting tried to shake him off, but Gildarts only shook his head and continued to watch. Lyon looked decidedly uncomfortable with the situation, but for the moment, he chose not to interfere.

“Gray, maybe you should back off,” Loke urged, eyes darting nervously between the two men.

“Don’t you talk about her,” instead of the yell everyone was expecting Natsu’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “You don’t know anything.”

“Of course I don’t, how can I, when you refuse to tell us anything?” Gray was being loud enough for both of them, and other bar patrons were beginning to take notice, “Fine, so if she didn’t leave you, then what the hell is the problem?”

“She was killed in an accident. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Natsu cried out, his voice gaining volume as he spoke, “She went out to the store to buy something like she’d done a thousand times before, and she never came back. She was my home,¨ Natsu managed before bursting into loud sobs, ¨She was sweet and beautiful and kind, and I loved her more than someone like you could ever understand.”

“No matter how bad of a day I had, just coming home to her could make it all better. And even though we never had any money, we were happy. We had each other, we didn’t need anything more.”

“She would have turned twenty-five today,” Natsu’s sobs had subsided, replaced by a voice that was too calm, “We should be dancing around the kitchen with Hana and Atlas. We should be laughing about the crappy cake I tried to make her, and singing along to the ridiculous pop songs she used to like. That was my home, Gray, and I can never go back.”

Gray could only stare in shock as words that he had never expected to come out of Natsu’s mouth filled his ears. He could almost feel the displeasure rolling off Lyon, and he knew he had no defense. He’d pushed too hard, as he always did when he lost his patience.

Natsu began to move along to the music that had started to play from the bar speakers at some point, and he mumbled, “I’m gonna go dance,” before walking off onto the dance floor and swaying unsteadily to the music, the shots he’d drunk earlier hampering his movements.

“I — I didn’t mean for that to happen, ” Gray glanced at Gildarts, expecting to see disappointment or anger, but the older man was only watching Natsu thoughtfully.

Lyon, however, was staring daggers at him. While Loke, who only a moment earlier had attempted to defuse the situation, stared into his drink, a faraway look plastered on his face.

“Are you satisfied?” Lyon growled and Gray wasn’t entirely sure whether it had been directed at him or at Gildarts but he responded regardless.

“I didn’t know,” Gray tried to explain, stopping as a thought crossed his mind.

“You knew his wife had died, didn’t you?” Gray glared at Sting, accusingly, “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

“Don’t blame him for this, “ Loke looked up from his glass, “He didn’t force you to go at him so hard.”

“He didn’t want anyone to know,” Sting revealed, wiping away the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, “He doesn’t want pity, and he doesn’t like to talk about it. He made me promise.”

“I met her a few times, she was lovely,” Sting added, watching as his friend continued to dance by himself, drawing more and more looks from others.

“Maybe I should take him ho-, uhm back to his house,” Sting corrected himself quickly before biting his bottom lip worriedly.

“No, first, Gray needs to fix the mess he made,” Lyon pointed out.

“What?! No way, it wasn’t even my idea to come here.”

“Gray look at him, is he really all that different from you?” Lyon insisted, “His pain might be different from yours, but it’s still pain.”

“Who’s brilliant idea was it to bring Natsu here today after I specifically gave him the day off?” A petite woman stormed towards their table. She was wearing a maroon dress with the bar’s logo etched on the half apron that was tied around her waist. Her contrasting white hair was put up in a ponytail.

“Oh shit, that’s Mirajane,” Sting turned around, trying to hide behind Loke, “What the hell is it with Natsu and terrifying women?”

“Gildarts?! I should have known,” she fumed, “How many times do I have to tell you, getting him drunk isn’t going to help. He just needs time,” Mirajane sighed as she looked out at the dance floor, “What happened? Someone said they heard Natsu yelling.”

All heads turned towards Gray, who could only protest once again, “I didn’t know.”

Mirajane squared her shoulders and walked her diminutive frame over to Gray, her eyes blazing with a fire that put the fear of God into him. She poked his chest with her index finger, eyes never leaving his face even though she had to strain her neck to do so, “I don’t know who you are, but if you don’t fix this I will make sure you never forget who I am,” she roared.

As he stepped onto the dance floor, Gray told himself he hadn’t allowed himself to be intimidated by a pint-sized woman, he was just taking responsibility for his actions. He did feel bad, he hadn’t actually meant to upset Natsu like that, and he certainly understood where the guy was coming from.

Gray was sort of homeless too. He’d been living with Lyon for months, it was the safest place for him and Aki. Lyon’s apartment was spacious, and it had excellent security, which given Lyon’s line of work was to be expected, but it wasn’t home. The house he had shared with Siegrain hadn’t been much of a home either. Not in the way Natsu described.

While he liked to think that he and Siegrain had been in love once, he didn’t really know if it was true. Gray had loved him, but now that it was all but over, he’d come to realize that Siegrain had never seen him as anything more than a meal ticket. He was in love with the money Gray made them, not with Gray.

Now that he was out from under Siegrain’s influence, Gray could see things clearly, could pinpoint moments in his career that had led to their relationship deepening. But he hadn’t been able to see it then. He’d allowed himself to be manipulated time and time again because he thought Siergrain was showing him love, when in fact, all he’d been doing was caging him.

There was only one thing to come out of their marriage that Gray didn’t regret and that was Aki, and he would do anything within his power to keep his son away from his husband.

He remembered Natsu’s words as he talked about his wife and felt resentful. He’d never experienced a relationship that deep, and given how closed off he’d become, he doubted he ever would. His life centered around Aki, and that’s the way it would have to be.

Gray finally got close enough to Natsu to tap him on the shoulder. Natsu turned his head, and although Gray had expected animosity, the eyes that looked back at him were remarkably passive.

“Look, I’m sorry if I—”

"Dance with me,” Natsu’s voice was soft and pleading, but Gray was caught off guard.

Dance with him? Gray had found Natsu so annoying from their first meeting that outside of noting the distinct features, pink hair, green eyes, tanned skin, and average height, he’d never really paid attention to what he looked like. He had to grudgingly admit that had Natsu been able to keep his mouth shut, Gray might have found him attractive once upon a time.

“Dance?”

Natsu nodded, offering his hand out for Gray to take.

“I don’t know, I just wanted to apologize…”

“I know what you wanted, and I really don’t want to talk about it, can you just dance with me? I just want to pretend for a few minutes, please?”

“But I’m a guy.”

“I know,” Natsu almost managed a smile, “this way, I won’t feel like it’s cheating.”

“Natsu, she’s gone,” Gray wasn’t even sure what to say, the whole request perplexed him, ”You can’t cheat.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it, remember? Are you going to dance with me or not?”

Gray figured he owed the guy that much for making him cry, besides it was just one dance. What could it really hurt? It’s not like he hadn’t danced with plenty of guys in his clubbing days.

“Fine.”

He hadn’t been expecting Natsu’s smile to be so disarming or his eyes to be so bright, causing slight flutters to his stomach. Still, Gray stubbornly ignored all the telltale signs of beginning infatuation, allowing himself to be led across the room and almost rolling his eyes as a slow song began to play with nearly cliched precision.

He thought about protesting. It was bad enough to know that Natsu was pretending he was a woman, but then he thought once again. What could it really hurt?

So they danced, and it turned out Natsu wasn’t so bad, his movements were fluid and graceful as he put his arms around Gray and moved them to the beat of the music, a stark contrast to his earlier movements.

Gray remained silent, not wanting to break the spell of whatever it was Natsu was trying to accomplish. Dancing with Natsu was different than with Siegrain, even though he knew the man was pretending his eyes never left Gray’s face. His features softening into a smile that was both sad and endearing.

Siegrain’s eyes had always darted around whenever they had danced in public, as if he were on the lookout for someone better, which given the things Gray had found out about was probably exactly what he’d been doing. They would never have danced in their kitchen for fun, he couldn’t even remember the last time they had genuinely laughed together.

And suddenly, Gray found he was the one pretending. He pretended that Natsu was looking at him that way because he liked him. That he was actually loved deeply by someone rather than kept as a trophy. But instead of giving him any solace, it made Gray feel that much worse because try as he might, he knew it wasn’t real. But he wished it was.

He could lie to others, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He did want this with somebody. More than anything, Gray wanted to be loved for who he was, but he’d begun to believe that he was no longer worthy of it. That he would forever be tainted by all the bad decisions he’d made.

The song ended before he was ready, and he almost protested when Natsu let go, still offering that same smile.

“Thank y—”

Gray noticed Natsu’s eyes widen, and he turned to see what had gotten his attention. It was the scary woman from earlier, but Gray could see the change in Natsu, the tentative hope at seeing her, and though he had no idea what was happening, he felt a strange wave of disappointment come over him.

“Lis, is that you?”

Gray saw the raw pain on the woman’s face, which was swiftly replaced by pity, “No, Natsu honey, it’s me, Mira.”

But the pain Gray had seen on Mira’s face was nothing compared to what was revealed on Natsu’s upon realizing his illusion had shattered, “Oh, for a moment there I… I miss her, Mira.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Mira replied with a sad smile, “I do too. Come on, Sting is going to take you back to Erza’s, okay?”

Natsu nodded listlessly and made to follow her, stopping briefly to acknowledge Gray, who was still standing on the dance floor, awkwardly, “Thank you for the dance.”

“No problem.”

“Friends?” Natsu asked, holding out his hand for Gray to shake.

“Sure,” Gray replied, shaking his hand and acting like the last five minutes hadn’t meant anything to him. He had always been good at lying to others like that.

But as he watched Natsu walk back to their friends, he knew he was in trouble. For the briefest of instants, when Natsu had confused Mira for his wife, he had felt jealous of her. And he had no clue why.

A/N: This happens right before the events of Revelations. It’s sort of the beginning of Natsu and Gray’s journey in this world, which will be long and difficult.

[geewithluv]

ESOTERIC [three]

ESOTERIC: intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest.

The ins and outs of the prominent gang, Bangtan, can seem esoteric to the general population that is most affected by their actions.

Ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ： ❝ Jimin is going to take over Bangtan after Hitman falls ill. Not feeling confident that Jimin is ready, Hitman pulls in the pacifistic daughter of a (now deceased) close associate. Kit hasn’t been around Bangtan for years, but now she’s forced to in order to help the remaining members of her family. ❞ Ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ：Jimin x Female OC (ft. the rest of BTS) Ｇｅｎｒｅ：mafia!au, kinda angst? diet angst Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ： cursing, a tiny smut scene, mentions of drug addiction Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ：4k

Ｒａｔｉｎｇ：18+

ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ [part one] [part two]

“Does 23 need more fluids? Or is 22 crying for pain meds?” Kit walked behind the desk of the nurses' station to speak to the charge nurse that paged her.

 “Personal call, line 3.” Elaine spoke bluntly as she took a couple of purple folders.

 “Personal call?” Kit asked as she moved toward the phone. There are hardly ever personal calls for the staff, and especially not for Kit...

 “That’s all they said, honey.” Elaine informed her before she slipped into a patient's room, Kit’s eyebrows furrowed as she picked up the phone.

 “Kit Briar.” She said as the phone connected.

 “Miss Briar, this is Dr. Stephenson from Smooth Sailing Rehab in Ph--”

 “I’m aware,” she cut the man off, there was no time for his spiel, “did something happen to Oliver?” Kit wrapped her fingers around the neckline of her scrubs, tugging slightly. The therapist she had when she was 15 pops into her mind as she begins to control her breathing.

 “As I’m sure you’re aware, Smooth Sailing has very intricate security measures in place to ensure the optimal amount of safety for all of our patients.” The man spoke as if he was trying to remain calm, but the slight waver sent Kit’s mind wondering how hard it would be to grab some Xanax from the hospital pharmacy. “We are afraid that your brother has left the premises.”

 “He’s not dead.” Kit let out a breath. Relief flows through her body.

 “No, he’s not.”

 “Well that’s -- what the hell do you mean ‘left the premises’?!” Kit practically yelled into the phone as the words settled in.

 “We tried to get in contact with you as soon as we noticed he was missing, we left a message with the other emergency contact.” Kit paced as far as the phone cord would let her. 

 “The other emergency contact? What other emergency contact do you have for him? Everyone he knows probably should have checked into your ‘top of the line’ establishment with him! Our mother has been bedridden for years so she’s not answering the phone for anyone. Who the hell did you talk to?!”

 “Uh…” The doctor trails off, Kit can hear him moving papers around. “His name was...Jimmy? I think.”

 “Jimmy?” Kit almost lost the remaining composure she had left. Who was Jimmy? And why was he an emergency contact… wait... “Jimin! That little--” She cuts herself off and takes a deep breath. “You guys have cameras, right. Please tell me you’ve got cameras.” She practically begs at this point. Hitman wouldn’t have sent her brother to a borderline functioning rehab, at least she thought. Now she doesn’t know what to think.

“He only appears on one security camera leaving the premises on foot, we have police searching the area.”

 “How in God's name did you lose a detoxing addict! He couldn’t have possibly been fully out of withdrawal yet! He’s tall ethnically-ambiguous looking dumbass with tattoos that only emphasize his ongoing drug problem. He’s hard to miss!” Kit has drawn the attention of a couple of patients at this point.

 “It’s harder than you think.” The man mutters. “I assure you that we are trying to figure out how this has happened, we are certain he couldn’t have gone far. He said he doesn’t know anyone in Arizona at all and was without a car. We still have his personal belongings including his ID.”

 “You better hope with everything you’ve got that he’s found safe and sound. Thanks for calling Dr. Stephenson.” Kit hangs up before the doctor can speak again. 

  “You need to go home, this is a family emergency.” Elaine followed Kit back to the nurses' station as she pulled her greying hair into a clip.

 “I’m fine, Elaine. My brother is just stupid. They’ll find him and bring him back or they’ll arrest him.” Kit shrugged it off. Work was a distraction, it could be aggravating. But it was a distraction nevertheless.

 “I don’t think you’re fine.” Elaine scoffed. “You damn near stabbed a hole into a bag of saline trying to hang it up.”

 “The hole for the hook isn’t large enough.” She grumbled, balling her fists to keep from raking her fingers through her already heavily disheveled hair.

 “I’ve never seen someone so angrily push morphine.”

 “Who makes a pain killer you have to administer slowly or else the patient will get sick! I’ve got other people to treat and I have to spend 5 minutes pushing a dose of morphine.” The younger woman shot back.

 “Go home, Kit. It’s not a suggestion anymore, it’s an order.” At the woman’s stern words, Kit groaned and leaned against the desk. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

 “Okay.” She said softly, taking her pager off and making her way to the locker room.

  5 missed calls, 3 voicemails, and 17 text messages flood Kit’s notifications as she turned her phone back on. 2 calls from the rehab along with a voice mail, the rest of the notifications come from Jimin. She doesn’t listen to any of the voicemails, opting to read the automated transcript and filling in the blanks that her phone couldn’t decipher. Technology has come so far, but not far enough. She didn’t know if she was honestly upset that Jimin was another emergency contact for her brother, or if she just needed more people to be mad at besides Oliver.

 Kit sat in her car for 10 minutes only calling Oliver’s phone. Leaving a voicemail every other call. She knew, deep in her mind, that he didn’t even have his phone on him. But she hoped that maybe he’d be able to sense she was freaking out.

 “I cannot believe this idiot!” She yelled to no one as she pulled out of the garage.

  “Maybe you should just leave her be.” Namjoon suggested to Jimin as he grabbed a jacket.

 “She’s probably losing her mind.” Jimin picked up his car keys, not in the mood to argue.

 “And? Her brother just went MIA from rehab in a state he’d never been to before. She’s understandably worried.” Namjoon continued to be a voice of reason, but Jimin, as always, refused to understand that. He glared at the taller man.

 “Which is why I need to make sure she’s okay.” He said before walking out of the house.

  “You keep a key under the doormat? Are you trying to get robbed?” Jimin scoffed as he entered Kit’s apartment, ignoring how she was standing, clearly scared of whoever was entering her home uninvited.

 “What the fuck are you doing in my house?!” Kit shouted as Jimin shrugged his coat off and threw it on the coffee table. He ignored the anger he had hardly seen from her before.

 “You didn’t respond to me.” He set the spare key on the table.

 “For a reason, Jimin! You can’t just walk into my home uninvited because I didn’t text you back!” She sat back down on the sofa.

 “Uh, yeah, I can. I wouldn’t be able too if you kept a spare key somewhere less obvious.”

 “You’d just break the door down.” She rolled her eyes as she brought her legs up to her chest.

 “Maybe, anyway, I was worried someone killed you or something, you should've just answered your phone. I can tell you’re not doing well, so it’s good that I’m here.” He smiled as if he had done her a favor.

 “You’re ridiculous.” She scoffed. “Of course I’m not doing well, my brother is gone and somehow bypassed a whole crew of security guards. How could I be calm?” Her feet hit the floor with a noise louder than she would usually allow, having often scolding Jimin for stomping.

 Jimin crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe he just didn’t want to be there, I don’t blame him.”

 “He wouldn’t just leave, Jimin. He wouldn’t. He knew he needed to get clean. I just--” she sniffled, “I just talked to him yesterday and he was so excited to finally be sober.” She held down her desire to cry. Jimin’s jaw tensed seeing her try so hard to not break, he realized he hadn’t understood how this was really impacting her. He sat down beside her, pulling her into his side.

 “It’s going to be fine, he’ll be just fine. You know I wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t true.” His voice softened as he started threading his hand in her hair, softly detangling her curls. He wasn’t actually sure, but he knew she needed to hear it, even if that meant she’d yell at him later for lying.

 “I know.” She whispered. “He kept me safe for so long, I want to do the same for him.”

 “It’s not your job to keep him safe, Oliver made the decision to start popping pills by himself. That’s on him. Not you. I know it’s hard, because he’s your brother, and you love him. But you can’t blame yourself and I can see it in your eyes that you’re blaming yourself. You have nothing to do with it. Oliver can handle himself, you know that, and even I know that. He’s fine, he’s just being really stupid and reckless right now.”

 “I hope you’re right…” Kit shifted her body to face him. “The Oliver I know wouldn’t…” she pulled on the loose string from her tank top, “wouldn’t leave me here wondering where he was and if he was okay.” She hiccupped softly as a few tears roll down her cheeks. “Even though we’ve been distant since mom got sick and he got...sick. We’ve always checked in. Always.”

 “He’s not in his right mind.” Jimin tried to explain. “If he was then he wouldn’t have left, and he wouldn’t have let you worry.” He bit his inner cheek and tried to choose words carefully. “The rehab is in a fairly secluded place, he won’t get far so they’ll find him. He might even come to his senses and go back on his own. He’s scared.”

 “Of what?” Kit looked at him through tears. “Scared to get clean? Scared to have a life that doesn’t revolve around drugs? Why would he be scared of that?”

 “It’s...” Jimin sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He blew out his cheeks before speaking again. “It’s just scary to accept that your life has gone wrong. You just think about the bad place you were in that made you turn to drugs. Or maybe you don’t even remember life before drugs. So maybe you’re afraid of getting back to normal life and normal life is shit and you can’t get high anymore to avoid how shitty it is.” Jimin rants before shaking his head, looking up at the ceiling. “There are lots of reasons it’s scary for lots of different people.” 

 “Oh.” Kit was surprised to hear his answer, she wanted to ask how he knew so well, but she refrained from what would probably be a personal and upsetting answer.

 “Do you want me to make you some tea?” He asked after a moment of quiet.

 “You don’t know how I like it.”

 “Yeah, I do.” He said, she raised a questioning eyebrow. “Way too sweet. You don’t need 3 spoonfuls of sugar in your tea. And especially not 4. 2 is more than enough. You also hardly get the water steaming because you want to drink it as soon as it’s done instead of waiting for it to cool down. You don’t steep your tea for 5 minutes like you’re supposed to because you're impatient so you only wait 3 minutes. But sometimes you hardly wait at all like a heathen--”

 “I get it, I get it.” She stopped him with a wave of her hand.

 He smiled, bringing his face close to hers. “I know how you like your tea, kitten.” He softly pecked her lips before standing and quickly making his way to her kitchen leaving her to wonder if he had actually just kissed her or her she imagined it in her panicked state of mind. Kit pulls Netflix up on the television and after some fiddling, Ellen Pompeo’s voice fills the apartment. “You’ve been watching Grey’s Anatomy without me?” Jimin asked in shock.

 “I was mad at you.” Kit said, a teasing smile on her face.

 “What did I do to earn this betrayal?” He comes back into the living room with her cup of tea, just the way she likes it.

 “You’re my brother’s emergency contact.” She said. “Also you’re too cute to be so mean.” Kit pouted and Jimin swore his heart melted.

 “Mean!” He said as if he had never been called such a thing before, to be fair the things he was usually called were a lot harsher. “I’ll ignore that if we get back to the cute part. I’ll have you know I am a very sexy man. Not cute.” Kit shook her head.

 “You’re adorable, but also mean.” She laughed.

 “Oh! I’ll show you mean!” Jimin said before reaching out to tickle her sides. Her giggles fill his ears. 

 “Jimin!” She squealed trying to push him off of her. “Jimin! You asshole!”

 “Take it back!” He laughed along with her.

 “I take it back! I take it back!”

 “See, was that so hard?” He pulls off of her, still hovering over her on the sofa. Kit doesn’t respond, instead, he gets lost in his eyes. “What?” He said softly.

 “Nothing.” Kit whispered, a hint of a smile on her face.

 “Would it be a bad idea to kiss you right now?” Kit quickly shakes her head in response. In less than a second, his lips are on hers, tasting the sugary sweet tea on her tongue.

 “Would it be a bad idea,” Kit started when they break the kiss, “to do more than just kiss you right now?” Jimin thought he stopped breathing for a moment.

 “What would you…” He gives her a small kiss. “...want to do?” His hands move delicately along her sides.

 “Don’t make me say it.” Kit mumbled, closing her eyes.

 “Tell me what you want, babygirl. Wanna hear you say it.” He starts dusting his lips over her jawline.

 “I want you to… to… fuck me.” She clenches her eyes tight as she feels embarrassment run through her body.

 “That wasn’t so difficult, now was it?” he teased. “Let’s go to your bedroom so I can give you what you want.” Before Kit can fully register what he said, he’s already leaving the living room. She looks over at him shocked. “You coming?” He smirked looking back at her. Kit nodded before stumbling off the sofa and following him to her bedroom. By the time she enters, Jimin is already pulling his shirt over his head. “Sit down on the bed.” Jimin commanded and she quietly obeyed. Jimin walks over to her, kneeling on the floor to kiss her. He pulled her tank top off, tossing it onto the floor beside them. Kit watches every move he makes wide-eyed. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

 “Yeah, yeah, of course.” Kit nodded, steadying her breath.

 “Just checking.” He hummed. “Lay back, kitten.” He said while gently pushing her. Jimin yanks her bottoms and underwear off of her in one smooth motion. “Can already see how wet you are. Just for me?” Kit hums a ‘yes’. He moves her legs onto his shoulders, moving his arms over them and locking his hands just below her navel. He starts kissing her inner thighs. “Bet you taste so good. Want me to taste you, babygirl?” Jimin saw her nod and heard her soft moan. “Use your words.” He demands, lightly biting her thigh. 

 “Yes… yes please, Jimin.” 

 “Good girl.” He praised her before licking a smooth stripe from her hole to her pulsing clit. Kit let out an exasperated moan. “Taste even better than I could’ve imagined.” He said before sucking her clit into his mouth. Kit tries to arch her back up to him but he stops her, holding her down on the bed, forcing her to fall victim to his tongue.

 After what feels like an eternity or even longer, Jimin releases her clit from his attack, he licks up her folds again before concentrating on her hole, tongue-fucking her and groaning while he tastes her juices flowing into his mouth. Jimin noticed her moans grow more frequent and louder in volume and used it as motivation. He puts his attention back on her clit and moves to grab her hips, pulling her core closer to his mouth. 

 “Jimin, I’m...I’m gonna cum…” She stumbles, her hands clench the sheets as he sucks the tiny ball of nerves. His nails lightly digging into her skin as she starts trembling and involuntarily moving away from him. Kit lets out a cry as she cums and Jimin starts to slow, not completely stopping as he helps her ride out her orgasm.

 “Goddamn, kitten.” Is all he says, a big smile on his face as he climbs back on the bed, rubbing the remnants of her orgasm off on the back of his hand. Jimin kissed her passionately, his tongue swirling on hers making her taste herself on him. He started pushing his own pants off. “Move up.” Jimin directed, tossing his pants and boxer briefs aside as he watches an already worn-out Kit move up to the head of the bed, slightly perched up against the pillows.

 “I want you.” Fell from her lips. “Want you in me.” It comes out almost a cry.

 “Hold on, kitten. Gonna give you what you want.” He moved over her, spreading her legs with one hand. “Look at me when I fill you up.” Jimin commanded, dark hair falling into his face as the leaking head of his cock brushes up against her hole. Kit’s eyes met his, silently pleading before closing shut when he pushes in her. “Look at me.” Jimin’s voice was harsher, he grips her jaw, staring deep into her eyes. “Good girl.” He hummed as he moves more. A cry of satisfaction melds with his own grunts as he fully fills her.

 “Feel so good in me.” Kit sputtered as Jimin started moving. Slowly pulling out before powerfully thrusting into her. Jimin praises her, tells her how good she’s doing, how good she feels, as fucks her. The sound of her moans and the feeling of her clenching around him as she gets close to another wave has him with his head in the crook of her neck. 

 “Gonna make me cum, kitten. Gonna cum for you.” He rambles, holding on long enough for her to cum around him before he pulls out, cumming onto her stomach. “Holy shit…” Jimin breathed out.

 “Yeah.” Kit mutters what can be considered a response, too out of breath and in a daze to figure out something else. He captured her lips in a quick kiss. 

 “Let me clean you off.” He said as he stood, making his way to her bathroom. With a warm damp washcloth, he comes back over to her. “You’re so good to me.” He told her as he cleaned her up. 

 “You say as you clean me.” She softly giggles, her voice sleepy, as he runs the washcloth over her thighs. “You’re so good to me.”

 “We can be good to each other, then.” He smiled, kissing her cheek and rushing off to put the washcloth back in her bathroom.

  Kit and Jimin spend an hour cuddled in her bed, naked, with yet another episode of Grey’s Anatomy playing despite being focused more on each other than whatever drama was happening in the fictional hospital. Kit was finally about to work up the strength to ask Jimin about their relationship when the unfamiliar sound of her doorbell ringing startled both of them. 

 “Who the--” Jimin gets up first, fishing for his pocket knife somewhere in his discarded jeans, his heart rate quickly increasing.

 “Probably my landlord. Maybe those girl scouts from down the hall. Just stay here.” Kit grabbed her robe, wrapping it around herself as she went towards her door. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looks out the peephole and no one is there.

 “Who is it?” Jimin comes out to the living room, now with his jeans back on but still shirtless. His pocket knife is now in his hand.

 “I dunno, there’s no one out there.” She looked over at him briefly.

 “They might be hiding.” He moved in front of her, unlocking the door carefully. Kit watched him look out into the hall.

 “Jimin…” He murmured acknowledgment, still on guard. “There’s a package.”

 “Wh-- oh.” He bends down to pick it up. Jimin walked back into the apartment, the door automatically closing behind him. He took a deep breath, unsure if any of his rivals are interested in making explosives, and opened the box. Nothing. Well, nothing bomb-related. But there is something.

 “Who sent me a gun?” Kit exclaimed as she peered into the box.

 “No one sent it. There’s no mailing label. They dropped it off here.” Jimin’s jaw tightened as he took it out. He knew precisely whose gun it was. “A phone?” He picked it up, holding it out to her. 

 “Oh my god…” Kit gasped, yanking the cell phone from him.

 “What the fuck is wrong with you! It could be a--”

 “It’s Oliver’s phone.” She cried. Her mind now running a mile a minute. As she turns the device on. “Olly...what did they do with Olly?” Her eyes start watering as she looks between the phone and the gun.

 “Are you sure it’s his phone?” Jimin sighed as he stared down at the gold-accented gun. ‘This is not good’ is all Jimin could think.

 “Yes! Of course, I’m sure! This is his case, it’s custom-made. You can’t buy it anywhere.” She sniffled, the phone now lights up. The lock screen is an old family photo of Oliver, Kit, and their parents. 

 “Fuck.” Jimin said to himself as Kit starts sobbing. He ran his fingers through his hair wondering how to connect Jin’s gun to Oliver’s phone. Ignoring Kit, Jimin grabs his phone. He tries to relax his muscles as he calls Jin.

 “Hey, man. Thought you were with Kit wha--”

 “She just got a box dropped off.” Jimin said bluntly.

 “Oh? Oh!  That’s very bad. That means someone knows where she lives, but what are you calling me for?”

 “I know what that means dumbass! I’m calling you because the only things in the box were her brother’s cell phone and that damn prized gun of yours.”

 “My gun? The one with the gold plated design that I got for my 21st birthday? That gun?”

 “Yes, that gun.”

 “I thought it was lost in the fire, I kept it at the restaurant--”

 “I know. So why was it given to Kit?” Talking to Jin was never calming for Jimin.

 “I dunno, man. Maybe the fire and her brother going MIA are connected.”

 “Oliver wouldn’t set the restaurant on fire, would he?” Jimin asked, Kit perks up, face filled with worry. She wanted to scream at Jimin for even thinking such a thing about her brother but she couldn’t form words fast enough.

 “No? I don’t think so. I mean he was waiting for the supply to come in so he could buy some more molly, maybe coke. I don’t remember. I don’t think he’d burn it. Especially not before buying anything.”

 Jimin sighed. “There’s a reason. Someone had both these items Jin, there aren’t many solutions.”

 “I know, I know. I’ll talk to the guys. You coming back tonight?”

 “Yeah, I’m bringing Kit. She can’t stay here.” He glanced over at her.

 Kit scoffed. “You can’t just take me!” She tried to argue as Jimin ended the call.

 “It’s not safe here, whoever the hell sent this shit knows where you live. I can’t protect you alone. This building isn’t secure.”

 “I’ll be fine!” Kit stood from her dining table. She knew it wasn’t worth arguing about. Jimin made up his mind.

 “Get dressed, we’re going back to the house.” Jimin said, pressing his lips to hers before she could protest.

FIN part 3. Okay so my life got really crazy so sorry for not updating. I moved suddenly and got a job so I’m a little more settled now. Hope to update soon.

[ohlukcs]

( alex wolff, male ) did you hear how LUKAS TOZER is applying to columbia university as a FILM & MEDIA STUDIES major ?! the 19 year old is living in the WALLACH HALL. i heard that they got in because they are + PASSIONATE and +THOUGHTFUL, but honestly i think HE can be -ASSUMING and -CYNICAL. they’re a real MAVERICK. oh well, only time will tell if the SOPHOMORE will make it til the end.

about the mun !!

hi hello my name is sam (she/her), im 22, and im a big fat mess at all times :) um but a lil more about me is that i’m australian and a recently graduated film student lmao. i’ve been rping for like ten years now i think idk but i am a NERVOUS BITCH !!!!!!! and it sometimes takes me forever to reply to things (ic and ooc) bc of that so pls be patient with me lmao. anyway, happy 2 be here !! if u like this post i’m gonna assume u wanna plot with me and my idiot and hit u up !!! lets mcfreakin lose it !!!!

about lukas !!

full name: lukas joshua tozer

nickname(s): luk-ass idk whatever u can come up with lmao

age: nineteen

gender: cis male

pronouns: he/him

hometown: jackson, new jersey

date of birth: nov 4th

occupation: student ( film and media studies, sophomore ), cook/server at a nearby 24hr pizza joint

relationship status: single

drink / smoke / drugs: yes / yes / yes

faceclaim: alex wolff

positive traits: passionate, thoughtful, creative, ambitious, untethered, humorous

negative traits: assuming, cynical, insensitive, rebellious, resentful, irresponsible

if he was in a hogwarts house: slytherin

now some more dot points that are just me talking about lukas !!

was born in fort lauderdale florida but there is a vERY low chance he will ever admit that, he’ll just say he’s from new jersey. as far as he’s concerned, he’s always been from new jersey even if his family did move there after he turned twelve

speaking of things lukas probably wont ever tell u but i’m including them anyway: his family is kind of messy. not majorly but like a little bit more than average. he had two brothers, now he only has one. i’m not gonna include a whole lot of nitty gritty here i’ll save it for when i write the real bio and can actually do it justice but its the reason they moved from florida and it has had a pretty major effect on lukas over time obviously

he’s the baby of the family and he’s pretty much always been treated like one. it has left him pretty immature and irresponsible. still learning that his actions have consequences and that he cant just be a total dick all the time. he’s improved in those areas a fair bit since he started at columbia a year ago but he still has a long way to go

he didn’t ever really expect to go to columbia, he’s from a middle class family and his dad didn’t even go to college. he applied for columbia just as a might as well give it a go thing. like maybe it will happen. they had a film course and although the course itself isn’t really great, the connections to the industry available at columbia were valuable enough for him to try. he was wait listed up until basically the last minute, preparing to go to a college in boston instead but when he was accepted he knew he had to go. for himself, for his family, and for his lost brother.

obviously irresponsible attitude has led to some Bad Decision Making including but not limited to partying and drugs. he doesn’t prioritise that lifestyle over his school work (bc he knows how lucky he is to be at columbia at all) but he is a big believer that you need to experience things to be a great artist and he plans on being the greatest artist so bad decision town here we come !!!!

he has a pet goldfish named michael bublé pls dont nark

for more info on him click here to check his about page, no bio there yet but hopefully soon

wanted connections babey !!

course friends/rivals/anything: i am writing these before acceptances happen so i have no good god damn idea if any other characters are film majors but hit me the hell up if they are bc i would love to plot some stuff out

old roommate(s) : lukas was probably an entertaining roommate but probably verged on annoying pretty easily. he’s messy, gross, probably didn’t respect the do ur fucking dishes rule in first year ( probs still doesnt tbh ). but he also has a password to every streaming account plus a phat hard drive full of movies and shows that he is absolutely willing to share with u so just depends what ur into i guess. maybe this connection led to friendship or maybe they hate each other now. im down for either/both 

dealer: hi welcome back to bad decision town. lukas isn’t into any hard stuff but is a big weed smoker (to my understanding medicinal cannabis is allowed but lukas def doesn’t have a prescription), then after that it’s kind of just experimenting. will chat more details if u wanna take this connection

booze leachers: so yes lukas is 19 but he has four, thats right, four fake ids. he is not willing to give u his contact for fake ids but he is willing to buy u booze if u pay him. dont hate the player hate the game

gang gang: pretty much just a close group of friends. i imagine all pretty relaxed, all pretty chill. idk what to say here except i want people to care about him and let him put on dumb movies and watch them with him and probably have dumb matching stick and poke tattoos and hog a communal tv to play mario kart but lets talk about it

fast food workers deserve respect too: as mentioned, lukas works at a 24hr pizza joint near campus which means he’s seen some shit. one of the things he’s seen multiple times is drunk student trashing the place. whether it be vomit, forgetting how to hold a cup, or bet try at a food fight lukas has seen it and he’s cleaned it up too. this connection could be that maybe he helped someone out and cleaned them up and got them back to campus when their friends ditched and now they look out for lukas too and its a positive connection. or maybe lukas hates their guts and spits on their food whenever they show up ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who’s to say

hot girl bummer by blackbear: now listen here’s an angsty connection i want, and i def want to plot it out way more with whoever takes it on but basic outline of what i have in mind: they’ve kind of sort of been dating for a while but they’re just falling out of whatever they had to begin with. they were never official, they probs def fucked around with other people while they were ““““together”””””, lots of oh sorry ur taking it so seriously i thought we were just chilling bullshit. all of this girls friends probs hate lukas and he definitely hates them back. were probably once really good friends and had a really good time together but they’ve lost it. will they find it again or will it fizzle out? lets find out together xoxo

new girl(s) : i hate the connection title too but i couldnt think of anything better. we’re in bad decision town and now we’re going to thot street babey. since things have been falling apart with hot girl bummer and even before that lukas a little bit of a thottie. this doesnt mean he’s good at it, please also feel free for a part of this to be that they rejected lukas and he got butt hurt about it idk lukas being attracted to them is basically this whole idea and i would wanna plot the rest of it more depending on specific characters wooo

lukas is a bad influence: if u have gotten this far u may have noticed that lukas is not a very good influence at all. this is someone probs his age or younger that wants to loosen up and have a good time and lukas completely encourages that. bonus points if this connection is a combo with the above connection bc lukas is a gross boi and would be like wow listening to my bad ideas thats so sexy and cool of u ya know. but also doesnt have to be that ! could just be lukas thinks its funny and thinks that someone listening to him is just like good content that could get him on barstool

lukas is badly influenced: this is basic as hell but someone that tells him to leave his impluse control at the door and encourages him to be trash. probs older than him and i def see this as more of a masc connection than a fem but like all my plot ideas: lets talk about it. this one probs v much depends on ur character so gonna leave this one nice and short

lukas is good-ly (??????) influenced: also basic as hell and p much just the opposite of above. someone who is a good influence on lukas. encourages creativity and ambition instead of straight up recklessness. again, i see it as an older character but no gender seen here. a lot of this would be based around ur character so lets chat

michael bublé’s co parents: lukas has a goldfish named michael bublé (or just michael), i picture him having got it while high as heck during the day and just being like This Is A Good Idea. maybe ur character was with him and they were co parents from the start or maybbe they came into the picture later ??? i’m honestly down for whichever just give michael the love he deserves pls

and probably just about anything else these are just some ideas, i totally wanna plot further and brainstorm so please still hmu if none of these fit ur character we’ll plot something up !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[whumpqhs]

Whumptober alt 8: Stay Quiet

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

“The morgue? I’m going to need an escort…”

“Oh right, I forgot. Hey Ron! Your pet POW needs to go walkies.”

Sonora twitched and glared at Tam, one the other SIS, as they finished shrouding the body between them. It wasn’t long before footfalls made their way down the hall, and Keeper—no, Vael—walked in to check on them.

“She needs what?”

“An escort,” Sonora cut in ahead of the other agent. “To take the body to the morgue. I don’t have an ID badge.”

“…Force, man, why can’t you take it yourself?”

“I’ve still got four other patients.” He shook his head. “Besides, the lift’s broken. You’ll both have to go to do the transfer out of the bed.”

“Fine.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Don’t just stand there, Cipher. Move.”

He didn’t need to say it twice. She grabbed the side rail, unlocked the wheels and moved the bed out of the room. “Understood, Keeper.”

Tam, the other SIS agent, laughed. “Keeper, huh? Still making her do that?”

Vael glared at him—she just caught it as she turned her head—and followed her down the hall. As they stepped onto the elevator, Sonora asked quietly,

“Are there cameras here?”

“In the elevator? Yeah.”

“With sound?”

“No.” He crossed his arms. “But you’re talking to a Special Agent with the Republic SIS. That’s like a walking mic and camera put together.” Her pulse kicked up and she felt her stomach twist with anxiety. Was she really doing this? Putting all the work she’d done on the line, all the time she’d spent earning their trust? But he was one of her own, she couldn’t just leave him. She steeled herself and pressed on.

“So, you always report back everything you hear to the boss, hm?”

“Everything important.”

“Oh, good, because I don’t have anything important to say.” She grinned at him. “I just want to play a game.”

“A game?”

“It’s a long ride to the basement, we might as well.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re spoiled. You know that, right?”

“I save your patients on a regular basis. I think I deserve a little spoiling. So, gonna play?”

Vael sighed. “Fine… what are we playing?”

“Agree to Disagree. Ever heard of it?”

“Nope.” 

She nodded, as if expecting this. She'd made it up, so him being unfamiliar was extremely likely. “One person says something, and then the other person says Agree or Disagree, and if it's Disagree, they say why. We keep going until an impasse is reached--which happens faster than you'd think--and then we switch sides. I'll start,” she said quickly, smoothing the nervousness from her tone, and cutting off any attempt he might make to use it for interrogation purposes. “You don't like it here. Agree or disagree?”

“Disagree. I like it here just fine.”

“You have to do more than refute it. You have to give a reason.”

He frowned, thought for a minute, and then added, “I like saving lives.”

“You feel like you were called to be a healer. Agree or disagree?”

“Agree.” He actually smiled. Her pulse slowed. “It's all I've ever wanted to do, my whole life.”

“You like the people you work with. Agree or disagree?”

“Agree.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don't remember that word from the rules.”

“You can call bullshit if you feel like it. The primary cause of impasses. And I feel like calling bullshit--you don't like the people you work with, and they don't like you.” She met his eyes. “Agree or disagree?”

Vael gave her a long look. “...agree. I'm always the butt of their stupid jokes.”

“So you like being a caregiver... but maybe intelligence isn't your field, huh?”

“Was that a game question?”

“Agree or disagree?”

“Disagree. I love my work as an agent, and as a healer, it's not possible to separate them.”

“One without the other, you'd feel hollow and useless. Agree or disagree?”

“Agree.”

“You have holes in your memory. Agree or disagree?”

This time he paused, but finally answered much more softly than before. “...agree.”

“You start thinking about something and run into a mental brick wall, for no good reason. Agree or disagree?”

“Agree. What are you playing at?”

“I thought that was obvious, I'm playing at this game. Now. You don't think you've ever been conditioned. Agree or disagree?”

“...agree.” But he suddenly sounded unsure.

“But you've got blank spaces where your early career ought to be.”

“Agree.”

“You don't know why you use trade names, and try to pry the non-existent caps off the vials of epi, even in a code when every second counts.” They were almost at the basement. She felt sick. She couldn’t show it. Agents do not show fear.

“Agree.” He was looking less calm by the second. She knew how it must feel inside if it was showing at all where she could see. She was hurting him... but she had to. She had to, to save his life.

“You might have come from Imperial Intelligence, like me. Agree or--”

“Disagree.” He was glaring now. She made her tone gentle and soft.

“You can't just say no, you have to say why.”

“I... I can't be. I remember growing up here. I remember... I'm loyal to the SIS. I didn't come from anywhere, I've always been here.” But his jaw was tight and she could see the flicker of his heart pounding through a vein in his neck. He was approaching tachycardic and starting to sweat. She knew what kind of training he’d been through, and even with that, he was visibly rattled. Knowing it was hurting him, upsetting him, gave her another second’s pause, but she would never get him out of here if she didn’t press the advantage.

“Fair enough. Your supervisors seem to treat you a little different than everyone else. Agree or disagree?”

“Agree. Wait. I never said anything about that to you.”

“You probably never told anyone. Agree?”

“...yeah. I always figured it was just my imagination.”

“If I could tell you why that is, you'd listen, and you wouldn't haul my ass down to the interrogation room.”

There was a long pause. Just before the doors opened, he said softly, “Agree.”

Her voice was lost in the whoosh of the doors opening, but she was angled just right--he could read her lips, the camera couldn't. 

“Then I need an exit.”

“No way.” He helped her push the bed along. 

“There has to be something.”

She could see his eyes casting around as she helped get the body transferred out of the bed. Finally, as they were closing it into a drawer, he lifted his head. “Do you hear that?”

“Huh?”

“I hear a hissing noise. Could be the oxygen tubing that feeds the crematorium.”

“Ew.”

“I'll go take a look. Seems like I'll have to bring you with me, since I can't leave a prisoner unattended...” He motioned her back toward the silent maze of pipes and tubes. Through the overlapping layers and shadows, she could barely see him if he got too far. As they slipped between jungles of tubing, he spoke.

“No mics back here and the lights are off. Now, talk… but stay quiet. You never know when someone might walk in.” He seemed to get more tense the further they got from the cameras. Maybe he was expecting an attack, and she couldn’t really blame him. Besides, what she was about to do was probably going to hurt. Which one of them it would hurt more was the only question.

“I read your file,” she whispered.

“You what--”

“Shhh, didn’t you just tell me not to get loud? I got access, how is unimportant. I read it. You aren't SIS. You were never SIS. You were Imperial... just like me.” She ducked under a low hanging pipe. “They conditioned you.”

“You mean they wiped my memories.”

“No--not quite. They put up a wall, one that we can break down back at headquarters--”

“We? Headquarters? No. I'm not going. I'm not leaving here, you’re not either, and besides, you're probably lying just to get me back here.” He didn't sound remotely confident of that. She could see him getting pale, but she knew from experience that the threat of combat wouldn’t bother him… leaving only what she said as the cause. “What, is there a shiv hidden in your scrubs?”

“Nah. Just information… maybe a little more dangerous, but easier to smuggle off the floor.” She watched him, momentarily caught in a little beam of light, while she had melted into the shadows, and for a moment, it seemed like he’d turn around and drag her out of here, refusing to so much as listen. She didn’t have to let him take her back to the floor, back to those sleepless nights and codes run at gunpoint and that awful room, and those drugs. She could knock him out and disappear if he tried to take her with him. Her training would get her out, and home; it would be so easy. But as soon as the thought entered her mind, it was dismissed. She couldn’t leave him here, no matter who or what he thought he was.

“Well.” He stepped out of the beam and shook his head. “This has been a thoroughly useless waste of my time. We’re going back to the floor and forgetting this nonsense.”

Her heart twisted in desperation. “It’s not—look, if I’m really lying, if none of this is true, then you don’t have a keyword, right?”

Vael turned and gave her a long, appraising look. His nervousness was starting to wear through on the surface, so obvious even a civilian could have picked it out; so she could only imagine the things he was actually feeling inside. Agents knew better than to show emotion. “…right.”

“So, any attempt at breaking your conditioning with a release code would just be… me standing here, blathering gibberish at you, right?”

“Right,” he said, a little more confident.

“So, you’ll listen to the code I found when I read your file?”

“You didn’t read my file.”

Sonora waited, watching him in the dark. He gulped.

“…yeah. I’ll listen.”

“Find us an exit, and I’ll tell you everything.”

[chimcharstar]

1-100 TELL ME ALL

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

1. What is you middle name?

Jesse

2. How old are you?

22

3. When is your birthday?

dec 9

4. What is your zodiac sign?

sagittarius

5. What is your favorite color?

purples

6. What’s your lucky number?

9

7. Do you have any pets?

no

8. Where are you from?

bc canada. my great grandparents are from russia

9. How tall are you?

5 something

10. What shoe size are you?

7?

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

3 that i actually use

12. What was your last dream about?

i dont remember my most recent one but i had a banger of a dream i described in another post

13. What talents do you have?

i think expressing myself, or music, i have some talent that needs discipline

14. Are you psychic in any way?

well i am a spiritual person, in a way. and growing up in a toxic drama filled family, i have Developed the Skill of guessing how people are feeling and what they are gonna do. and i analyze dreams. so not psychic but i am really interested and intuitive whats goin on in there

15. Favorite song?

for some reason https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oilVq8-F4_Q colours by roosevelt ive been obsessed with lately i just loop that shit. loop loop loop. blaringit into my ears and speedwalking down thestreet. the beat.!!!! i feel like I  took all the colours

16. Favorite movie?

spiderverse. i really enjoyed always be my maybe.

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

someone who doesnt make me feel like im Too Much

18. Do you want children?

not RIGHT NOW

19. Do you want a church wedding?

i have no idea actually. id want a special wedding definitely.

20. Are you religious?

yes, i honestly feel like i just come like this, i dont go by any books and i dont want to be associated with christians. if i be too religious i start getting the Bad Feelings

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

yes visiting sick relatives. and one in a psyche ward.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

i got a parking ticket

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

no. maybe i did and i had no idea who they were because id never heard of them

24. Baths or showers?

showers.

25. What color socks are you wearing?

alien socks that are green and black

26. Have you ever been famous?

no. what does that even mean !!!!

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

yes because money but noooooo. its hard when one person definitely doesnt like me. if im famous some people just wont like me and theres going to be more of them

28. What type of music do you like?

stuff with electric guitars in it. funk. bops. i cant get enough lately

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

no

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

one. and sometimes NONE. i dont fucking know why its just more comfortable. id lie down on a floor and pass out

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

i usually cant fall asleep unless im on my face with my arms tucked under me for warmpth and general log shape. after that though its chaos. dreamin

32. How big is your house?

BIG!!!!!! so many rooms. so many people. 

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

on a Functional day, cereal. not because its my favourite thing but it doesnt require a lot of attention and its easiest to tolerate. my appetite is just. like this

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

HELL no.

35. Have you ever tried archery?

in my child days i shot my hair elastics around and pretended i was fighting aliens. this is definitely archery.

36. Favorite clean word?

i dont really think about words like that. pizza is a nice word.

37. Favorite swear word?

bitch. its really fun to say.

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

not all that long. if i was up the entire night i am usually sleeping in midday no matter where i am. ive disappointed many teachers. its called not caring.

39. Do you have any scars?

yes, but theres no dramatic stories to them, just me not leaving scratches and bites alone as a kid. they look kind of cool though. and theyre so mysterious. youd think id have scars from self harm but no.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

i believe so...

41. Are you a good liar?

yes, when i am 100% like morally committed to lying.

42. Are you a good judge of character?

NO. my thought process is: its rude to assume someone is going to behave badly, and they will be offended and have hurt feelings if you anticipate that. i have to like. treat everyone with exactly the same respect unless theyre a dick. otherwise its being judgmental. and it ends up as naïveté. but im okay with that . the price of being a good person

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

i could do a british one once i guess LOL and it looks like now ive Absorbed a mexican accent but i never really try to talk in other accents

44. Do you have a strong accent?

i dont know how to answer this

45. What is your favorite accent?

idk i like new things i havent heard before. and thinking about how other languages work. theres a lot of different accents at my work and i honestly enjoy listening to them

46. What is your personality type?

that.... INFJ. see. psychic

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

one of the gay jackets

48. Can you curl your tongue?

dont think so

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

innie

50. Left or right handed?

left

51. Are you scared of spiders?

depends. i had these big house spiders in my dungeon at my parents house, and id just be “hi” and set them free. but if i see one where im not expecting it i might yell a lot and tell everyone and run around and then set it free

52. Favorite food?

tacos from my old work. i was indeed. screaming, lost in the sauce. i waited until i was away from the restaurant because i knew all my dignity would vanish

53. Favorite foreign food?

idk... i need to eat more curry. i need more curryin my life. bring it on.

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

clean

55. Most used phrased?

“this slaps” i feel like ive been saying that a lot

56. Most used word?

I

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

a whole entire fucking hour (when i wake up) otherwise 5min

58. Do you have much of an ego?

i do, but i hide it. 

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

chomp chomp. i am not a patient man.

60. Do you talk to yourself?

yes, when i know no ones around, or when im not worried about seeming like a crazy person at work

61. Do you sing to yourself?

nah

62. Are you a good singer?

no. i can sing and it sound okay.  nice even. but good??? like beautiful?????? no.

63. Biggest Fear?

someone dying, natural disaster, new illness

64. Are you a gossip?

maybe. i feel like i have the Tendencies and then im like “am i being a bad person right now”. i want to know the deets though.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

i Simply Dont Have the Attention for Those

66. Do you like long or short hair?

BOTH . long hair is more fun to draw. short hair is hot

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

fuck no. why would i. fuck off. i dont care about your states.

68. Favorite school subject?

ART ART AR T

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

introerverte

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

no

71. What makes you nervous?

people who are not Definitely Cheerful

72. Are you scared of the dark?

no. unless i think about things to scare myself on purpose

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

no unless they need to know. because im not a fucking ANIMAL

74. Are you ticklish?

depends. i can be not ticklish if im determined.

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

i dont think so... i started a rumor i was from mars

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

maybe i was supposed to train some girls and then i probably didnt do a great job and they didnt listen. they say my job now is somewhat authority and im like...... ok...... 

77. Have you ever drank underage?

no

78. Have you ever done drugs?

no

79. Who was your first real crush?

someone whos OUTTA MY LIFE

80. How many piercings do you have?

two? i got them pierecd at claires lmao and i didnt get an infection because im  so salty. then i took them out because they were from claries

81. Can you roll your Rs?“

hell yes

82. How fast can you type?

so fucking fast. faster than my work finder helper. im fast im very fast

83. How fast can you run?

IM VERY FAST

84. What color is your hair?

orange

85. What color is your eyes?

green

86. What are you allergic to?

im still trying to figure that out. whatever it is gives me hives

87. Do you keep a journal?

yes. so i can get better at handwriting and just talking in general and hear what my voice sounds like. and to have a space away from other peoples needs and pressures

88. What do your parents do?

my mom is a stay at home mom and my dad shoots pop bottles into the sky

89. Do you like your age?

sure

90. What makes you angry?

everything. cabbage. i swore about cabbage for a long time the other day. i am just full of anger. 

91. Do you like your own name?

YES. i mean i chose it i better. honestly my first name ......... i feel self conscious about it sometimes. i think it was the only name for me though. it wasnt the ideal most wonderful namei could find because those didnt fit, it was MY name.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

im going to have two sons and im naming them brick and rusty.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

yeah, i want a boy a girl

94. What are you strengths?

my strengths doing all 100 questions, this is serious muscles

95. What are your weaknesses?

the exhaustion of jumping from one question to the next especially when they are vague. im not complaining this was my idea

96. How did you get your name?

i pfound it in the baby name book and i was lie  “hey yyy, i saw that name in black beauty, lets use it for my gay coded villain what the hell!”

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

no but i did have some ancestors who lives i a mansions andhad fucking SERVANTS. before you call me problematic my other part of family was like sewing things and not going to school 

98. Do you have any scars?

weve been over this. when im older im going to get a cool scar fighting a dragon

99. Color of your bedspread?

pink, white, blue

100. Color of your room?

white

[sculptorofbeginningslibrary]

Black Eyes & Bloodlust - Chapter 11

THIS IS A RE-POST SINCE THIS CHAPTER WAS POSTED RIGHT BEFORE THE PURGE. THIS STORY AND ALL MY FICS WILL BE POSTED FROM HERE AND REBLOGGED (POSSIBLY POINTLESSLY) TO MY MAIN BLOG UNTIL TUMBLR UN-BLURRIES ME.

My Masterlist

Black Eyes & Bloodlust Masterlist

Summary: Dean has never met his Omega, never even thought there could be one waiting for him–but she’s out there, and they’re connected in ways they could never have imagined.

Characters: DeanxReader, Sam, Cas, a few OC’s

Warnings: SMUT so typical A/B/O warnings, Slow burn (and I mean it. SLOW BURN GUYS.) Language, depictions of mental illness, Gore and Violence. (Warnings will apply to all chapters just to cover all the bases.)

Word Count: ~ 3800

A/N: Pretty Dean-centric chapter :)

Beta’d by @justcallmeasmodeus

AS ALWAYS,

ENJOY!

__~*~__

“Didn’t we just have a conversation about how you liking serial killers is weird?”

Sam rolled his eyes as he fixed his tie in the motel mirror. “I don’t like serial killers, Dean. I just…like studying them. It’s an interesting statistical anomaly that–”

“Woah there, Einstein. You start talking statistics and I’m gonna take a nap.” Dean snagged Baby’s keys from the table and looked over at Sam. “I’ll be in the car when you’re finished primping.”

“I’m not–” Sam started, but the door slammed shut, cutting him off yet again. He rolled his eyes good naturedly, just glad that Dean seemed to be in better spirits knowing that Cas was actively searching for Y/N.

They still hadn’t told Dean what Cas knew, but he seemed to appreciate their new-found enthusiasm enough to agree to check out the Omega serial killer Sam had been following in Colorado. Dean had insisted it ‘wasn’t their kind of thing,’ because monsters didn’t take their time to mutilate their victims only to steal their eyelids before moving on–that was crazy human shit–but after a few days of nagging, he gave in.

Which led to now, with both Winchesters headed up to the police station to interview the sister of a missing Omega. The missing girl fit the victim profile, but normally a body would have been found by now.

Dean was sure it was unrelated, but the sheriffs were insistent that since she was an unmated Omega, they had to treat her case as if it were related to the others.

Sam dropped into the passenger seat of the Impala just as Dean started her up. The comforting purr of Baby’s engine always lulled Dean into a sense of peace he couldn’t find anywhere, especially now that the Mark was assaulting him with new and improved spats of unrest that tested his control in new ways.

“Alright so what are we lookin’ at, Sammy?” Sam pulled up his laptop and went through the case file again.

“Well, uh, the sister’s name is Lane, and Y/N has been missing for almost a week. They found her apartment all torn up. Lane is staying in town even though she lives two hours away so she’s agreed to come in and talk to us.”

“Y/N?” Dean asked, his gut twisting at the name. Sam’s eyes flicked to Dean’s hand tightening on the steering wheel.

“Yeah,” Sam replied softly, “Dean it’s probably not–”

“Yeah I know.” Dean brushed off what he knew Sam was going to say. It probably wasn’t his Y/N. That would be too much of a coincidence, even for their crazy life. “So what else?”

__~*~__

Tex had arranged to meet the witch somewhere on the Colorado Wyoming border, and you drove non-stop to get there. You had been in contact with her through Tex’s phone, and she seemed eager to meet you despite the weirdness of your request.

After assuring her that Tex had kept you safe and given you his phone as proof that he had sent you, she texted you an address.

Another handful of suppressants and Benadryl didn’t help the swelling in your arm or the cramps occasionally rolling through your body, but you chalked it up to lack of sleep. You hadn’t gotten one wink in since killing Tex, nor had you wanted to.

There was a pull guiding you to where you needed to go, and it wouldn’t let you rest until it was satisfied. Like some kind of psychic GPS it was leading you straight to Rowena, as she’d said her name was. The strong feeling made you wonder absently if she really was a witch. If magic was real and this whole time you’d been living in a sweet bubble of normal life not knowing that the supernatural existed, what would that mean for your life? How had it found you  after twenty-odd years of boring normalcy? It all seemed too ridiculous, but then again you were certified crazy and officially a murderer but couldn’t bring yourself to care, what did you know?

Your fingers tapped on the steering wheel in time with the soft rock playing on your stereo, not a care in the world despite the growing pile of problems and  the blistered wound on your arm. You had a good feeling about this woman.

She had the answers you needed. You didn’t know, like everything these days, how or why you knew that, and the part of you that cared was slowly being replaced by the beast that had been shredding away all sense of who you were.

__~*~__

When Sam and Dean arrived at the station there was a small group of people waiting for them.

Three officers and two doctors were crowded around a crying woman Sam could only guess was Lane. The closer they got to the group, the stiffer Dean’s body went. Sam scented the air, but nothing seemed amiss despite the stomach churning mix of smells that accompanied places like this.

“Hello,” Sam said as the group glanced up, finally noticing their presence. The male doctor looked visibly uncomfortable as the Winchesters stepped close enough for their scent to carry. The female doctor, however, looked ravenous. Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, who was glaring openly, and without reason, at the male doctor. “We’re Agents Allman and Betts,” they flashed their badges before stuffing them back into their jackets, “We’re looking for an Officer Bishop?”

A sturdy looking officer stepped forward, removing his arm from around the crying woman. “That’s me.” He reached his hand out and Sam shook it, Dean seemed lost in his own world and missed the hand offered to him, looking as though he was trying to solve a particularly aggravating puzzle. Sam cleared his throat and Dean shook himself out of it, glancing suspiciously around the group.

“Are you Lane?” He managed to ask gently towards the only obvious civilian. She nodded, appearing to collect herself and step forward.

“Yes. T-Thank you for coming.”

“It’s not a problem Ma’am, we’re here to help.” Sam tried to smile reassuringly, and started to speak but he was cut off by the female doctor.

“Is there a reason the FBI stepped into this? Is it because you’ve read Y/N’s file? Because I didn’t authorize—”

“Woah woah woah,” Dean said quickly, shutting down her rant. “You mind telling us who you are? Actually, I’m gonna need each of you to provide identification before we discuss any specifics of the case.”

“And…” Sam glanced around, noticing the rising interest in their gathering. “We’re going to need somewhere more private. I think Lane here has had enough being ogled for one day.”

Bishop hopped into action, ushering everyone towards a back room with two couches. Sam let Dean, Bishop and Lane enter before stopping the two doctors and other three officers from going any further. He shut the door, separating the two groups. The officers took the hint and left, leaving only the doctors.

“Excuse me what do you think you’re doing?” the male doctor demanded.

“I need IDs. From both of you.”

“My name is Doctor Mara, and this is my colleague Doctor Cameron,” offered the female with a sultry smile. She produced her ID and piqued an eyebrow at the man beside her until he did the same. “I was the head of Y/N’s medical team while she was in our facility.”

“Your facility?”

“Yes, a psychiatric facility. With Y/N being a missing person of questionable mental integrity Lane called us in, hoping we could provide some help. I’m afraid, however, that a warrant will be necessary for you to access her files.”

She smelled like too-strong cinnamon as she stepped into Sam’s space. It was a seemingly innocent movement, but Sam knew she was trying to bully their way into the room behind him. Doctor Mara seemed like the kind of woman who was used to getting her way.

“Well Doctor, the warrant isn’t necessary in an active missing persons case because of relevant information that might lead to the victim’s whereabouts. I’m guessing you have the file on you or you wouldn’t have brought it up, so how about we cut the crap and you tell me what’s going on here? Since when do contracted psychiatrists make house calls to family members?”

“Y/N is a special case,” Doctor Cameron spat. He had decided he didn’t like the FBI Agents the second he scented them. The way they carried themselves and the way the shorter one smelled rankled him. He reeked of gunpowder and old leather–a combination that had been intolerable since Y/N had almost killed him.

Their attitudes didn’t help. Like all Federal Agents they thought they owned every piece of ground they walked on, he could see it plain as day.

“A special case?” Sam asked, waiting patiently and making it obvious they wouldn’t be going any further until they told him something worth knowing.

__~*~__

“Knowledge? Dearie, I know everything worth knowing.” The red-headed woman with the thick Scottish accent was beautiful as she sipped her wine, looking other-worldly. You felt mildly self conscious sat at the same table, but mostly you were curious about her.

How did someone so gorgeous know someone like Tex?

“Then you can help me find them?”

Rowena grimaced. Perpetually, the fucking Winchesters were a pain in her ass. Even hundreds of miles away she couldn’t escape them.

“Why d’you want the Winchesters? I can teach you everything you need to know. I can feel the magic wafting off of you, dear. You shouldn’t want them for anything. What is it? A spell?” Her eyebrow arched perfectly as you stared blankly at her, unsure of what to say. “For your heat, dearie. Doesn’t take a witch to smell that too.”

“You can do that? Take it away?” You voice lowered excitedly as you surveyed the room suspiciously, missing her comment about your magic.

“Of course! Didn’t Tex tell you who I am?” She seemed slightly offended, but you shrugged.

“No…I mean, nothing other than you being the most powerful witch he’d ever met.” He hadn’t said that, but you had a feeling it was something she liked hearing.

“Well,” she gushed, feigning bashfulness, “he wasn’t lying there. I can do just about anything you need.” Rowena contemplated you for a moment before reaching some kind of decision. “Give me your hand.” She held hers out across the table, smiling encouragingly for you to do the same.

When you slid your arms across, your sleeve rolled up, revealing the rash on your arm. You didn’t miss the widening of her eyes as she spotted it, and you quickly covered it back up.

“No no no, love. Let me see.” Rowena caught your arm, her delicate fingers clasping you with a strength her petite frame hid well. You hissed when the fabric brushed against the raw flesh as she gently rolled your sleeve up. “Oh my,” she mused, taking in the oddly shaped blister on your arm.

It was raw and red, seeping where spots had popped. There were tinges of black beginning to vein out around the edges which usually meant infection…but you were sure that wasn’t the case here.

You could practically see the gears turning in her head as she examined you. The warmth of her touch was soothing and discomforting at once.

Rowena knew more about you than you could ever imagined. She had divined your purpose right after talking to you for the first time and now, after touching you and the vicious curse on your arm, she understood your predicament fully.

Dean Winchester’s Omega had the Mark of Cain, just like her Alpha. It was an interesting development, one that Rowena knew she should be working in her favor, but she found herself feeling bad for you. She could see the black ooze overtaking your aura, smell the curse on you as surely as she could smell your heat, even with her Beta nose.

The power emanating from you had her wondering just how someone could acquire a curse in the way you had. Your personality was hidden under layers of desperation she didn’t think even you could see any longer, but she could tell you were an innocent buried under the blanket of evil the Mark had thrown over you.

She wanted to help, but as of yet the Winchesters were her enemies, and no matter how much she liked you, pride wouldn’t let her. Better to let the pains in her ass have a pain of their own.

“What?” You asked, suddenly worried as something flickered in her eyes. It was the first real emotion you’d felt since leaving Tex.

“Oh it’s nothing. Just…” her well manicured nails ghosted across your palm and she closed her eyes, feeling the magic there. “I can feel him. Your mate.”

You snatched your hand back, astounded. Maybe she really was magic after all.

“How do you know about Dean?” You hissed. Her smile was patient.

“Your body told me. And the magic. He is the source of it.” Her smile formed into something more sinister as she continued, taking in your shock. “He’s there you know. I saw him when I touched your mark. He’s at your home, standing in your living room as we speak.”

__~*~__

Dean stared at the file, fighting the urge to vomit. Sam had strong-armed the doctors into giving up Y/N’s file while Dean had interviewed Lane. She hadn’t been able to offer much besides Y/N suffering from nightmares, being committed, and the strange turn of her personality. None of it seemed relevant to the serial killer, but his gut was telling him something he couldn’t understand.

The file was thicker than any patient file either brother had ever seen, and contained more than just the pictures Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from. It was a record of everything Y/N had said while interred, every procedure and every move she’d made, but Dean hadn’t made it past the pictures.

It was her.

She looked like shit in the first one, dark bags under her eyes, hair ratty and unkempt, her body swallowed up by an unflattering patient’s uniform. In the other she was smiling wide for the camera, lit up eyes sparkling out at him under perfectly styled hair. His finger traced longingly down the center of her happy face, wondering if being connected to him had done this to her.

“Dean? What’s going on?” Sam closed the door, leaving Officer Bishop to lead Lane to his car for the trip back to her hotel. Sam didn’t like the look on Dean’s face, at all.

“Sammy…” Dean started, his voice cracking as he laid the folder flat so they both could see. “It’s her…It’s…this is her.”

New panic was taking him over as he realized how close they had been, and now she was ripped from his grasp. “God Sammy, what if she’s…” he broke off, voice cracking and unable to form the words.

Sam wanted to object, but the pure emotion and certainty on Dean’s face stopped him.

Looked like his hunter senses had been more on point then expected.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Dean removed the pictures and handed Sam the file. There was one photo remaining Dean hadn’t seen, and Sam slipped it to the back of the pile before he could dwell too long on it.

The last thing he needed was to analyze the familiar looking rash.

The most recent files were on the top, and it only took three pages for Sam’s stomach to finish dropping to his feet. He swallowed thickly as he read the lines she had babbled while unconscious.

They were transcripts of Y/N’s last, and apparently most intense, episode. Behind those were the transcripts of her hypnosis session with…Doctor Cameron.

Sam’s head snapped towards the door, eyes narrowing as he tried to put all the pieces together. When he looked back at Dean, his brother hadn’t moved, still entranced in the glassy eyes staring up at him from the lifeless photo paper.

Turns out it was their kind of thing after all, and it was time to call Castiel.

__

Dean had Y/N’s picture safely tucked into his jacket the minute Castiel had convinced him to move from his stupor. Cops had watched warily as the terrifying Agent stomped his way through the precinct and slammed his way out the door, Castiel in tow. Sam had waved apologetically, hoping they wouldn’t attract too much more attention.

The ride was awkwardly silent.

Castiel revealed Y/N’s prayers and the life he thought she’d taken once they’d gotten into the car and Dean hadn’t said a word since. Dean’s pounding heart practically filled the empty space as he raced to the address they’d been given. Sam’s stomach felt like it had pushed up into his chest as Dean took a few rough corners, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

“Dean…”

“Shut up Cas.” Dean’s tone was shaky, but firm. No words would suffice now that he knew the truth of what Castiel had seen.

Dean was furious at both of them for so many reasons. A week. She’d been missing for a week. If they hadn’t searched so hard for Cain they might have found her before this.

As if sensing Dean’s thoughts, Sam’s were running along the same line. His guilt was compounding with every word he read from Y/N’s file. He turned another page.

From the looks of it, she’d been suffering a breakdown since Dean had taken on the Mark.

In the silence, all they could do was think. All they could do was ponder their mistakes and every sign they’d ignored.

Every time they’d brushed Dean off in favor of curing the Mark. They’d told themselves it was for Dean. It was for the greater good.

As Sam handed Cas the file, open to the pages where she had directly quoted Dean while he was being cured, he knew it was a lie.

__

Dean was tapping her song onto the steering wheel as he glared at Y/N’s apartment building. Sam had cleared his throat twice, but nothing was pulling Dean out of the car until he was ready.

Castiel had a habit of not realizing awkward situations, but this one was unavoidable. He knew finding Cain had been the right thing, but it didn’t feel like it at the moment. He exchanged a loaded glance with Sam in the rearview mirror that felt endless, their shared guilt simultaneously connecting them and separating them from Dean.

Then the driver door was flung open and Dean was gone. He was on the landing by the time Sam and Castiel entered the building, his head dropped against the door and eyes tightly closed as he inhaled the scent of death seeping thick though it.

Sam and Castiel smelled it too, and wondered what the police could have missed that was causing it. Dean’s hand hovered over the doorknob before he shoved it open, taking the crime scene tape with him when he stepped inside.

The smell of her was faint, it was obvious she hadn’t been there in a while, but it still smelled just like he expected–minus the rotting flesh somewhere in the apartment. His experienced eyes searched everything from the blood stains under his feet to the vomit stains by the couch.

The room was a disaster unlike anything he’d seen, but some part of him knew there hadn’t been a struggle. She’d done this herself.

His connection to her was singeing his arm, digging in and giving him flashes of emotion that came and went, flitting about like a hummingbird in search of nectar. His eyes followed the line of destruction until they found the room he was searching for. The one that contained her scent stronger than any other.

His feet were moving before he told them to, carrying him into what he discovered was her bedroom. Castiel and Sam hovered in the entryway surveying the damage as Dean had, but not seeing the pattern Dean had followed. Dean had no care for them as he stood just inside her door with his eyes closed, letting his nose and the Mark lead the way. He could hear them moving around despite the carpet muffling their steps.

“Get out!” He yelled suddenly. The feel of them inside her space was too much combined with the scent of Y/N, death, and the dozens of people that had traipsed through collecting evidence. Dean heard them stop then shuffle out the door. He waited until he heard the click before he really started searching.

The idiot officers couldn’t have used their noses because the scent of rot was strongest here. The knot headed alphas probably only scented her panty drawer, while the Betas probably hadn’t smelled anything besides the rotting flesh somewhere in the apartment.

Everyone was operating on the assumption that her body was hidden somewhere inside the apartment from the smell, but Dean’s instincts were telling him different. There was something dead, but it wasn’t his Omega.

The song playing in his head was evidence enough of that, but it didn’t mean she hadn’t been taken. Maybe the man she’d killed was the one who’d taken her…maybe she was on her way home.

Dean didn’t need to open any drawers considering they were all on the floor already. All but one.

His Alpha raged at seeing her panty drawer placed on the bed, two familiar Alpha scents lingering around it. They’d been at the police station.

There was only red as he grabbed the wooden drawer and slammed it into the wall. His chest heaved with the effort as he tried to control himself, forcing himself to remember that they hadn’t actually touched her. That crime was reserved for someone else. Someone who was possibly dead, and if they weren’t…they would be.

The Mark amplified his anger, but he was dealing with it better than anyone else would have. He caught a whiff of the death through the disturbed air and followed it to where the drawer had shattered against the wall.

Almost absently he grabbed a pair of her panties, barely a scrap of fabric, and tucked it into his pocket before moving the broken pieces of wood. Underneath, a small pile of books had been tossed just as carelessly as everything else around him.

“Sam!” He called, knowing they would come.

Everything in him knew what he was about to find, but he couldn’t believe it until he pulled the Bible from the bottom of the pile.

Dean almost gagged as his hand touched it, violent visions of sticking knives into innocent Omegas assaulting him.

“Dean?” Sam called from the doorway, knowing better than to step inside. His nose rankled as Dean crossed the room with the Holy book in hand. Castiel arrived just as Dean opened it to pages that were bulging the book out at the center.

The three men stared, disbelieving, at the Bible in Dean’s hands.

Castiel covered his mouth as realization set in, his eyes taking in the multitude of emotion the brothers were expressing.

Pressed between the pages, rotting, slick and wet, staining the pages black, were eight sets of dismembered eyelids.

__~*~__

Questions? Comments? Incoherent screaming?

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__~*~__

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