#in other news its going on six months since i went swimming and that is just. much too long

[rubiatinctorum]

I felt bad earlier this year, in the summer, when i scratched my gold band ring on rocks while swimming. but now, i miss swimming, and i see those scratches on the ring, and that connects with a good memory. i think i really understand now why, when i watch jewelry repair videos online, sometimes the person wanting the repair asks not to have scratches polished out.

[jayspaceinc]

Kori’s Name

Written: 2/4/22

[Author’s note: over time, I will be posting as much side content/AU content as I can (that doesn’t include spoilers) so I can build up an audience :) Kori is just one of 6 main characters in the Are We Dead Yet? Book and other characters will have their own appearances/stories uploaded as well in time]

"So, I know you're not a huge fan of talking about your past but I'd love to hear how you chose the name Kori," Celia said with eyes full of wonder as she sat on Kori's bed in her apartment.

"It's not that interesting of a story. I've told you before."

"That was just the summarised version though. All you said was you saw a comic book with the name and chose that character. What's the full thing?"

Kori sighed. She knew her friend was never going to let this go and it was better she just told the whole thing to avoid any issues. "Fine I'll tell you but dont get upset if its nauseatingly boring. About 6 months before I met you, I had fully accepted that I wasn't a boy and never had been."

*this may be set in the past but out of respect to Kori as a character and being, we will remain using the correct name and pronouns lest the situation call for it*

12 year old Kori sat along their quite large dinner table where her, her parents, and numerous siblings had decided to gather. Her father was going through their usual dinner where they boasted of their accomplishments for the day. Somehow everyone had done something amazing throughout the day besides her time and time again. But she was so glad to share this new revelation with her family.

"Hanbin, what was your accomplishment today?"

Kori wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. "…I figured out something today."

Now, Kori had known about trans people since she was six from her kindergarten sex ed class. She was fully familiar and understanding of the concept of one changing from one gender to another. "I wanna be a girl."

Silence fell across the table. Apparently they hadn't gotten that memo that that was such a thing. Her family chose to stay closed off to the social political issues that was seeing a resurgence in modern times. Sure, they knew about trans people, but they were either unacknowledged or shamed in their presence.

"What are you talking about, Hanbin?" One of her older brothers roared with laugher. "You don't wanna be a girl just because you like men."

She frowned. She didn't like men. Not in that way really, all of her crushes in the past had been women. "But, I don't like boys. I like girls and I want to be one."

"What would you even go by if you were a girl?" Another brother asked.

"I dont know.. I haven't thought about it that much yet.. but what does it matter? A name isn't everything."

"It might be time for you to switch prescriptions again, you've got that crazy look in your eyes."

Her father, who wouldn't even tease the idea of his son being gay or trans switched topics, "Did you sign up for the swim team like I asked you, Hanbin?"

Kori's brief confidence fell under his harsh tone. "I meant to.. but I forgot.“ she quickly bowed her head and apologised in Korean as her father chose to ignore the other half of their lineage and raised them as if they were pure Korean.

"Then that's your goal for tomorrow," and with that, they moved onto someone else.

But Kori wasn't letting go of this girl thing. Her brother was right. She needed a new name that fit her better. Hanbin was a perfectly respectable name for a Korean boy. But she wasn't a Korean boy, was she? She went to the World Library and went through a trial of ups and downs and lefts and rights trying to find a new name on the public computers. She looked up most popular names, unique names, even Korean names since she didn't hate her heritage that much and maybe her father would come around to it more if it was Korean. She'd played with a few of them, pretending she had friends that could even call her such a thing.

"'Jiah you look so pretty today.' 'Yeah Jiah, you're such a pretty girl.' Hm... I don't know if it sounds good enough. What do you think?" Kori turned to her little siblings she'd been forced to pick up and babysit after school. But then she noticed her little brother was missing. Of course, he was. "Where did Sukchin go, Hyunjae?"

The 5 year old toddler shrugged her shoulders. This was just great. She'd never hear the end of it if anyone found out she'd lost him for even two seconds.

Her brothers' words from the dinner a few nights previous were really bothering her. How was she crazy for seeing that she was a girl? If anything, this was the happiest she'd been in this shit family. She hated her short hair cut and her already quite masculine features that were starting to show thanks to the luxuries of puberty. But girls were so pretty and she longed to be just like the ones she saw on TV and magazine covers. After a bit of search, she found her little brother had wandered into the comic book section messing with some of the comics on the lower shelf. He'd already knocked off quite a few on the floor. Kori crouched down on the ground and started to clean up his mess. The comic books were obviously old but in flawless condition. She saw this beautiful tan woman with a crazy mane of pink hair and glowing green eyes. She was so pretty. And that wasn't her only appearance. She was in so many of these covers, always looking astonishing and beautiful at all times. She was the main character of her life for sure while Kori had always felt like a background character in hers. She flipped through a few of the comics where she remained as stunning as her cover image. She was funny and kind of ditzy but powerful and nice. Everything Kori wanted to be.

Kori ended up checking out as much of their collection as the library would allow and became obsessed with reading the series. Once she'd completed all of what the library had, she reached out to other sources on the internet where she soon discovered there was so much more to this illustrious character. Her family was more than unhinged like Kori's and her love life seemed a bit rocky given how often her boyfriend tended to cheat on her. When she'd finally reached the end of all that the internet had to give, she decided she couldn't just let this character go now that she had finished their story. She wanted to keep a part of her with her at all times. The girls name was Koriander but Kori thought it might disrespectful to take her entire name as her own so she dropped the second half until a few more years to come. Hanbin would be no more and out of the ashes would arise Kori. Kind of cool when you think about it. She did sort of resonate with Raven a bit more than she had intended to but she wanted to separate herself from her bleak depressing past and try to be more open in the future.

"And your accomplishment for the day, Hanbin?"

"I've been thinking about what you guys said a few months ago and.. I finally settled on a name. I wanna go by Kori."

Once again, no one really knew how to respond. It was easy to beat around the bush last time but this was much more direct.

"Is that Korean..?"

"No, but it's still a kicka-- awesome name. I like it. I wanna start going by it. That's my accomplishment: I found my name."

"When are you dropping this act, Hanbin? Do you want attention, is that it? Maybe if you did something noteworthy, you'd get it. But enough with this sickening joke you've been keeping on," Her father said, his words cutting her deep.

Kori blinked away the tears in her eyes. "I'm serious.. I don't know why you can't accept that." She left the dinner table and went up to her room that she had started to decorate more femininely over the past three months. Unfortunately, no one had acknowledged her name. Not at home or in school. She had to obtain her parent's signature for a roster change and that wasn't going to happen. So she just kept being Hanbin.. no one wanted her to be anything but. Even after growing out her hair for months, her gender was being ignored everywhere she went. So much for being more open. Once her family had discovered that this Kori thing wasn't going away, they switched her prescription which only made her feel worse. At least she had her books. She could immerse herself in that and pretend that she was the main character somewhere no matter how mythical it could be.

Kori was pretty much the only one who called herself that. Everyone in this town knew her family so they never called her the correct name. That was until she met some strange girl in the park a few months later.

Celia had been the only one to see Kori for what she was and call her by her correct name. The name she so deeply resonated with and loved. She'd probably never actually tell Celia this was but it was one of the happiest moments in her otherwise shitty life.

If you made it to the end, hello again 🥸 I will be very blunt and say Kori’s name was not always inspired by the comic book character 💀 it was Jiah in the first draft! But I think Kori seeing a beautiful woman and getting obsessed with the comics to the point that she literally adopts the name is so adorable. I knew I just wanted her to have the name Kori in the second draft and looped back around to the why so here it is :)

And if you liked this! Check out:

“When Did You Know?”

[howyoutalktostrangers]

So,

I'm trying to bring this story to life.

For the past six months I've been toying with the idea of writing a story for Pique magazine in Whistler about my grandfather Bill Johnson — who happens to be my namesake.

It starts with a photo he kept on his living room wall, near the entrance to the kitchen, that was there for my entire childhood. It was a strange addition to the decor, and it took me years to ask what it was and why it was there.

It was a black and white photo of a power line tower that had collapsed in the snow. It seemed to be somewhere mountainous. The metal foundation of the structure was wrenched perpendicular to its base in a tangled mess.

I wish I knew who told me the story, but I only remember the content, not the actual telling. But I do know that since I was a teenager I've had a vague understanding that the structure had collapsed in a vicious snowstorm and my grandfather, an engineer with BC Hydro, had been helicoptered in to restore power.

This fact didn't especially interest me as a kid. It just sat there dormant in my brain for a couple of decades until I decided that I wanted to know more about it. This event was significant enough for him that he'd kept the photo in a prominent place for the whole family to see, and though I never heard him speak a single word about the event I could sense that it was a career accomplishment that was significant to him.

He was an intensely proud power line engineer, and designed many of the support structures still being used today.

The story as I understood it was that his innovative thinking during the emergency cut the repair time significantly. By hoisting the power line up independently of the collapsed tower while they worked on it, they were able to complete the repair faster than planned.

Because it was the dead of winter, and thousands were without power, it was understood that their work was responsible for saving lives.

I've made a little bit of progress learning more about this event from my Dad and Aunt, who told me that my grandfather was involved in two large-scale emergency repair situations like this. The other one was in the Kootenays — a detail I found interesting, because it means that generations apart we'd worked in the same two communities.

My grandfather was a proud man with a booming voice. We called him Gran Dad, and he drove us to school every day for years. He always sang preposterously loud in church, he hosted enormous family parties at his house on every significant holiday, and when he passed away in 2006 he was a broad-shouldered, gleamingly bald beast of a man with a thunderous laugh.

He was a beautiful person.

The day he passed, I was about to teach a swimming lesson when my sister called with the news. Through some fluke decision on my way home, I decided to drive over to his house rather than going home to mine. Because of this, I was the only grandchild to see him before he was taken away.

I'd never seen a dead body before. Gran Dad was asleep on the couch, with one arm under his blanket and one arm out. Beside him was a hardcover illustrated history of the B.C. railway and a stack of family photo albums. According to my Gran, he just complained he was feeling sick one afternoon and went down for a nap.

That was that.

It's been nearly twenty years since we lost him, but he's still alive in a whole bunch of ways. The implications of his actions, the snowballing family legacy continuing generation to generation. His influence remains, even if it's not always acknowledged. He's the reason I read The New Yorker (he insisted), he was the one who financed my employment at Camp Qwanoes as a teenager, and he helped teach me to drive.

I miss him.

Writing a story about someone who has passed away is a form of creative resurrection. Whistler has an awesome museum, so I'm going to connect with them about the specifics of the power outage (I don't even know what year it happened) and connect with my uncle who was also an engineer and may know more about the story. I've even got aunts digging through their archives.

But we haven't found the picture yet.

The Literary Goon

[abbatoirablaze]

Stacy's Mom, Chapter 8

Word Count:  1.4k

Warnings:  slight angst

Jake had never felt so alone as he looked at his computer.  His heart lurched as he typed in the password for the secret server he’d set up for himself and Devin.  Yet another mission was complete, but he’d been left alone in a shoddy hotel room while the rest of the guys celebrated. 

Over the course of the first two missions, Jake had understood the tense nature between everyone.  While they all had come in contact with one another, none of them had officially worked together, so it was more a matter of figuring each other out and completing everything that they needed to without causing too much collateral.

Roque and Clay had become quick friends, each one of the quiet men finding wisdom in each other when the missions ended and the planning for the next one began.  And while Clay was the official leader of the group, it was like Roque was his right hand.  They always seemed to be operating in sync with one another.

Pooch and Cougar seemed to hit it off pretty good as well.  Pooch went to the bar to celebrate and drink the night away, but he knew that both he and Cougar would be coming back to the room with a date, which would inevitably leave him in either the van or the tub, depending on how loud they got. 

With a heavy sigh he logged in to the private server he’d hastily created before he left.  His heart caught in his throat.  It’d been four months since he’d seen Devin, and she was five and a half months into her pregnancy. 

It was a much easier pregnancy than Briana, and he’d been able to see daily pictures that she uploaded to show him the progress of her small baby bump as well as pictures that Briana had insisted that they upload.  Some of the collections were as simple as the two of them relaxing and having a movie night, or Devin taking Briana to the zoo.

His calloused hand reached out to touch the screen, his fingertips brushing over the glass that showed a picture of his two girls holding up a sign saying, ‘happy birthday daddy!’ 

It was from a few days ago, but Jake’s heart swelled every time he looked at it.  He’d aged another year, and he was 23, but everything felt so much different than it had only six months ago before he came home. 

He’d had a family. 

He had his girls. 

And that’s when Jake noticed the small message that was blinking in the corner of his screen.  Clicking on it a video popped up.  And Jake felt even more homesick.  He pressed the play button. 

“DADDY!”

Jake’s heart lurched in his chest when Briana waved excitedly at the camera, “daddy I miss you!  Mommy said you pro-lee wanna see us for your birthday…but we had to wait for a day when sissy din’t come over so we could do this too!”

Jake’s brow furrowed in confusion when she backed up and he noticed her shirt read ‘big sister’

“Mommy’s been wearing really big shirts and dresses so sissy doesn’t know.”

And that’s when Jake noticed she was wearing one of his shirts.  He smiled, seeing the loud, blue shirt swallowing up her petite frame. 

“We also wanted to show you this,” Devin smiled, holding up a sonogram picture.  Jake’s breath caught in his throat every time she sent him a video and he saw a new updated picture.  Sure, he didn’t know what any of it was, and he couldn’t tell you the baby’s head from its ass, but it was his baby.  Ad that was all that mattered.  Jake touched the screen yet again, “we uh-we wanted to do a gender reveal video for you…I had someone make a bath bomb ball that’s going to either turn the pool blue or pink when we throw it in…another reason we waited to make the video…because while you were gone we had the pool enclosed so we could swim all year round…”

“I hope it’s blue.  No.  Pink.  No…I want blue.  Mommy, I want a baby brother,” she said excitedly, “I want him to be just like daddy so it’s like we have a piece of him when he’s off saving the world.  Daddy, I hope you have fun being a superhero.  I love you!”  

Jake laughed, matching his girlfriend’s pre-recorded laughter as he shook his head at his daughter’s ever-changing mind. 

“Yeah…you definitely get your decision making from daddy,” she cooed, messing up Briana’s hair, “But I think I want a little boy too…a mini version of your daddy…goofiness and all.”

“Just like I’m a mini you!” she giggled.

“You most certainly are,” she smiled, “Do you want to carry the phone or the bath bomb so we can record it for daddy?”

“Bath bomb!”

Jake smiled at his daughter’s insistence.  The two of them went through the house and to the pool, Devin having the camera aimed expertly on Briana who was racing to get to the pool.  When they got to the newly enclosed pool, she placed the camera upright and her and Briana went to the other side so that Jake could see their reactions too. 

“Alright, we gotta count down.” 

“3.  2.  1!” Briana yelled excitedly as she threw the ball as hard as she could into the pool.  It was quick to sink to the bottom, and Jake felt like he was holding his breath. Blue bubbles and dye rushed to the surface, “MOMMY IS A BOY!  I’M GONNA HAVE A BABY BROTHER!  HE’S GONNA BE LIKE DADDY!”

“A baby boy!” she repeated softly.  Jake felt his heart stop as he stared at her stomach. He wasn’t there for his daughter…and now he wasn’t going to be there for his son.  And that’s when his eyes flitted back to the video, and he noticed that Briana was no longer excited but crying.  It had only been a few seconds since she made the announcement, but Jake’s heart plummeted, seeing his daughter crying.  Knowing that it was because of him. 

Devin rushed to her and picked her up, quickly going out of frame.  But Jake could hear them.

“Baby what’s wrong?”

“I want daddy home!” Briana sobbed, “why can’t daddy be home, mommy?”

“H-he’ll be home soon, baby…daddy’s just…he’s working...you know, saving the world so we’re safe from everything that’s bad.”

“I want daddy, mommy.  I miss daddy!”

Jake felt tears rushing to his eyes as he closed the laptop.  Sniffling, he brushed the falling tears from his cheeks.  The door slammed open, and Jake tried to brush it off, but Cougar, who was surprisingly alone, raised a brow at him. 

“Oh-hey man,” Jake said quickly, pushing the remaining tears back, “you’re back soon..I-I was just-“

“Save it,” Cougar said firmly, cutting Jake off.  Jake nodded, holding back his tears as he tucked his laptop under his arm.  Cougar closed the door and went to his luggage before tossing something on Jake’s bed, “you need this now.”

Jake’s brow furrowed, and his heart tore as he recognized it. 

The yellow bunny. 

His eyes widened as he looked back to Cougar, “wh-why do you have my daughter’s bunny in your bag?”

“She knew you’d say yes,” he said after a moment, “she’s a smart little thing, Jensen…she knew you’d get to a point where you’d miss her…and she told me to take that one…said when you get sad…give it to you…”

“B-but she…she sleeps with both of them, she wouldn’t spl-“

“Told me to take it,” he shrugged, sitting on his bed, “said she wanted a reminder for her daddy that she loved him…and that the bunny would watch over him until he came back home…do right by your kid, Jensen…I know that look…we got one more mission on the board before we have a break…don’t go AWOL.”

“I-I wasn’-“

But Jake stopped himself when he looked at Cougar’s expression.  He knew that it was best not to argue with the silent sniper. 

“I saw it in your eyes when Clay said we had one more,” he acknowledged, “now…I’ll give you a reprieve tonight…talk it out…tell me what’s on your mind…and let it all out, Jensen…but come tomorrow morning we get on our next flight and we do what we have to do before you go see your kid.”

“I-I miss her…miss them,” he admitted softly, “I-Devin sent me a video…she-she found out what we’re having?”

“Another princess?”

“No,” Jake said, the smallest of smiles forming on his lips as he thought of his future son, “a little boy…wanna be a godfather, Cougar?”

Cougar smiled softly, “only if his middle name is Cougar…”

Tag List:  @notrealllyhere, @krissy25, @lohnes16, @dispatchvampire, @meanttobea

[some-kindofgnome]

for auld lang syne

“And then I woke up in the hospital alone, and I saw the doctor alone and took a taxi home alone. I went to physical therapy alone and saw my counsellor alone. Whatever you thought, Katsuki, whatever you believed made me spend six months staring at my phone and thinking I’d ruined everything.”

It’s time for your agency’s extravagant New Years’ Eve party. But after a little sabbatical, there are some things you’re not ready to come back to. 

characters: katsuki bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.2k

warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, pro hero!bakugou and pro hero!reader, mentions of injury, near-death experiences and gunshots, smoking, drinking, angst with a (filthy) happy ending, me being a whore for glamorous new years’ parties

notes: This fic has been dragging me across the coals since Christmas- I could not get it out of my head, despite how much work I knew it would be to get it out on time. Still, it feels supremely worth it. I have a metric ton of love to give to @hoe-doroki​ for beta-ing this mammoth on such short notice (I dumped it in her lap at 4am) because she really helped me whip it into shape. As always. 💖 

Happy New Year, everyone. 

(MASTERLIST) 

“Won’t be long now.”

Anxiety bleeds into the already-nervous voice of your driver, muffled by the plexiglass divider that separates you. You’ve been sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for the past four red lights, barely inching toward the intersection with every green.

You’re well past fashionably late at this point. You’re sure that the commissioned driver’s fearing for his job at this point, knowing exactly how long ago you were supposed to have arrived at your own party.

But you couldn’t care less. The longer it takes you to get there, the better. The vodka you’d downed neat, standing over the bar cart in your polished apartment, sours in the pit of your stomach. And the fact that your outfit barely allows a spare breath isn’t exactly cooling your nerves, either.

You’re draped over the door, resting one elbow on its edge to cushion your jaw as you lay your forehead against the chilly glass. Outside, the crowded traffic casts a golden warmth over the bluish urban night, betraying the slow swirl of fluffy snowflakes that drift lazily into the street.

Tonight has all the makings for an ideal, albeit bitterly cold, New Year’s Eve. But if it were up to you, you’d be watching all the wonder unfold from the comfort of your own bed.

You’ve been away long enough, though, says your agent. It’s time, says your manager. You stay away from the spotlight for too long and we’re going to forget about you, says the Internet.

The glittering gold fabric your stylist presented you with would’ve swelled your heart on any other occasion. He knows your taste to the button. And after breaking into exhausted sobs at your first fitting together, you’d been able to tell him that the outfit was perfect.

At long last, the glossy windows of your agency loom outside. You push the backseat door open before your driver can even kill the engine, stepping out as gracefully as you can muster and pulling the folds of your designer coat demurely closed around your glamorous party clothes. You’re greeted by swaths of flashbulbs and determined shouts of your hero name, and suddenly the practiced gracious smile that you’ve always saved for the cameras is stretching your lips one more time.

You used to love something about this. But you’ve almost never had to face it alone.

Inside, the party’s taken off without you. Your coat’s taken before you can even see who’s hands are slipping it deftly off your shoulders, but by the time you’re ushered into the elevator and sent all the way to the top floor, you’re already sweating with the anticipation of all that’s waiting for you.

The doors open to a rush of guests, each noticing you simultaneously and pushing in to greet you.

Arriving late does absolutely nothing to dissolve the grandness of your entrance. Your attention is immediately pulled in a handful of different directions as celebrities and dignitaries and politicians shake your hands and congratulate you. People you’ve never met are telling you how good it is to see you on your feet again and, despite the overwhelming distractions, you can’t stop searching the crowd.

You don’t want to let yourself search for somebody in particular, but you spot him long before your shame catches up with you.

It’s not a glimpse of his mussed hair you catch, bobbing through the crowd. Nor is it a slip of the edge of his suit, the most devastating shade of midnight blue you could have possibly imagined.

Your eyes, like magnets, are drawn right to his crimson gaze. Lightning shoots through your chest, and you look away so fast you nearly pull a muscle in your neck. You cast your gaze immediately to the red-faced MP in front of you and let yourself stare. Still, from the corner of your eye, you can see the way he lingers, still facing you.

You haven’t seen Katsuki in months. Luckily, your ability to multitask has not faded, and you make easy small talk with the mayor and his wife while you sense him, in all his midnight splendor, disappearing into the crowd again.

A close call. Too close, in fact, not to warrant a drink. You excuse yourself kindly from the mayor’s attention, cutting through the glamorous partygoers until you reach the bar at the center of the room. It’s crowded, but you grab the bartender’s attention quick enough and order the first of many glasses of Dom Perignon.

The agency knows how to spend, for a special occasion.

It’s while you’re trapped at the bar, waiting for that imperative first drink, that he corners you. You spot him an instant too late, sidling between two dancing couples and crossing the short distance between you. There’s no way to skirt subtly away from him now. Instead, you lean more fervently across the bar and immerse yourself in an intense examination of the liquor, shelved decoratively behind the working bartenders.

He hesitates—possibly for the first time ever—but you’re determined not to watch as he searches for the right way to bridge the silence. You spot the way he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and when he finally speaks it’s low and sharp and bitter.

“That’s a nice dress.”

He has to lean too close to make his voice heard, speaking low and gruff to you in a way he never used to. You’re too anxious to care whether he sees the way you close your eyes to dull the fervent ache that flares in your chest.

He’s not allowed to say things like that to you. Not now.

“Listen.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, pushing ahead.

In the throes of closeness, it’s easy to pick up the tremor in his voice. That kind of shake used to scare you. It’s the way he’s always spoken to you when he’s keeping his temper at bay in public.

He’s opening his mouth to say something else, something deeper and far more expository perhaps, but your champagne arrives with no moment to spare. You pluck it eagerly from the bartender’s fingers with an exceedingly gracious smile and turn quickly in the direction you swear Katsuki’s not blocking.

“Watch it.” He grabs your wrist to keep you from sloshing half your fresh champagne down your front. His touch sears hotter than you’d dreaded, and you can’t stop yourself from flinching at the rough brush of his calloused fingers over your tender inner wrist.

Fuck.

“Don’t run off,” he insists, squeezing your wrist just a little tighter. Your entire body is drawn tight like a bow, but you’re not actively searching for an escape route at this point. Sensing this, he slowly unwraps his fingers, dropping your hand and letting you down half your drink in a couple of parched gulps.

“You look…” you start to say, letting your eyes wander his immaculate form one more time. Whoever cut that suit for him knew his shape well. It fits perfectly. Contrasts his golden hair like the night behind a harvest moon.

Absence has not culled your feelings for him. Especially not when he comes back to you like this.

You take another long, slow sip, ignoring the way Katsuki’s brows shoot toward his hairline when you nearly empty the glass. His gaze darts to the narrow flute in your hand, the prints of peachy lipstick that mar it.

With your heart beating a touch slower, you try again.

“You look good.”  

Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“I can’t—” he starts, shaking his head as his eyes swim the crowd. “I’m not doing this.”

“What?” Your stomach drops. When he looks at you again it’s dead straight, burgundy and blazing in that way that used to make you molten.

Now it makes you want to cut and run.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ play nice, like this,” he pushes. He takes a step toward you, letting your name—your real name—fall from his lips as tender and soft as a prayer. “Explain to me why my agent had to tell me you were gonna be here tonight.”

“Katsuki,” you plead quietly, backing away from him a touch. “I don’t want to—I can’t. Here. Please.”

For a million other people he might press on. He might get angry and demand an answer, threaten anything it takes to solve the puzzles in his brain. For you, his strong jaw ticks and he shoves clenched fists back into his ironed pockets.

“Let’s just,” you begin, “make it through to midnight, okay?”

“Fine,” he bites, but he doesn’t like folding to you. He gets you back by clearing his throat and extending you a palm, drawing the attention of the people around you. They turn, charmed by the agency’s finest reappearing as the duo they’ve always adored.

There’s a glint of something in his eyes as he gives his chin a little jut toward the dance floor.

“Dance with me, then.”

You’ve been to hundreds of opulent agency spectacles together. Charity benefits, galas, holiday parties and the like have always been studded by your presence. But no matter how many times you’ve entered the party together, you never managed to get him onto the dance floor. Despite your whining and pleading and fussing, he’s never ever let you drag him out there.

So this feels like a particularly low blow. But the orchestra’s struck up a dreamy rendition of The Way You Look Tonight and there are too many people watching for you to turn him down.

Instead, you down the rest of your champagne, set it on the bar behind you, and slip your hand defiantly into his.

“Fine.”

His fingers close gently around your palm and he gives it a lingering squeeze that turns your blood to venom.

You’re already racing through a complex plan to survive this attention as he walks you onto the dance floor. Some of the other couples pause in their swaying to send a smattering of applause over the crowd. You can feel the winning smile tugging at your mouth, forcing you to swallow the panicked ache in your chest.  

Katsuki pauses at the center of the dance floor and pulls you slowly closer. The low dip of your gown places his warm hand on bare skin when he settles it in the small of your back, and you’re sure he doesn’t miss the sharp little suck of breath that you’re not prepared to hide.

He does not try to speak, so you’re silent as you settle a shaky hand on the shoulder of his perfect suit. He’s as perfect a dancer as you’ve always known he’d be, and he leads you into a smooth little sway that’s easy enough to navigate in your precarious gold heels but sweeps you into the music like a scene from years gone by.

“Hey,” he grunts a few bars in, ducking a little closer as his fingers press into the bare skin of your spine. He pulls you against him, forcing your tense body against his. The gentle dip of his hairstyle brushes your temple as he leans forward to murmur in your ear. “You’re holding your breath.”

You deflate against him, letting your eyes fall shut. When you take your next careful inhale, your head is filled by the heady, smoky scent of him. Your heart pounds so forcefully it’s practically blinding you. But above all else you hate yourself for still feeling all of this, after so many months of promising to force it away.

Katsuki knows you well enough not to try and trap you in conversation in public. But he doesn’t pull back any further, continuing to hold you flush against him, letting your soft cheek brush his with every couple of steps.

Despite your best efforts, you’re drowning in him: the strength of his touch, the fluidity in his movements. His thumb strokes the base of your spine with an easy rhythm that you’re trying hard not to notice. It’s becoming too much. He’s holding you closer than a colleague should, tucking his nose too attentively against the side of your head for a courtesy dance. You’re overthinking too many of the signs. You’re letting yourself believe what should have been thoroughly dashed to pieces so many months ago.

It’s when tears well behind your glittery eyelids that you put a stop to it.

“Katsuki, I—” You can’t finish, pushing yourself sharply away from his chest. Whatever expression of dreamlike peace that had touched his eyes fades quickly as he sees the telltale wet sparkle in yours, and he reaches for you an instant too late.

He calls your name softly, fingertips brushing the edge of your upper arm. But your tears are spilling over and you’re backing away and you cannot be here anymore, not when people are starting to see.

“I can’t do this,” you plead. “I can’t pre—I’m sorry.”

With a final shake of your head, you turn and hurry clumsily from the dance floor, pulling up the beaded skirt of your heavy gown and sweeping, as quickly as possible, to the glass doors shut tightly against the imposing snow on the terrace.

It’s bitterly cold, nearly fifty storeys up, and the wind whips mercilessly past your bare arms with biting chill. You can’t stay out here long, but it still feels better than the alternative.

With shaking fingers, you dip into the tiny bag you’ve been wearing over one shoulder. You’ve stashed exactly one emergency cigarette in its silky depths. You haven’t smoked in weeks, but something told you that tonight would beg one.

You have to back away from the railing to even light it in the wind, but you’re barely two puffs in before the door behind you opens carefully.

It’s the last person in the world you hoped for. And the only one you can imagine finding you out here. He’s got a glass of something neat in each hand—amber in one, clear in the other. He spies the cigarette in your fingers and his soft, concerned expression melts into a scowl.

“You’re still smoking?”

You take a defiant drag, blowing the smoke in his direction. The wind catches it, carrying it in a sharp curve back over your head. Katsuki licks his lower lip, but you can tell by the way his nose twitches that he’s trying not to chuckle.

You nod toward the whiskey in his right hand. “How many of those have you had tonight?”

“Not enough,” he quips. He nods toward the cigarette. “Put it out.”

“You don’t get to order me around anymore.”

“I said put it out.”

Your livid soul wants to defy him. You’re craving the conflict that inevitably comes when you both dig in your heels. But you’ve got no energy left to fight, so you flick the smoke dejectedly onto the wet pavement and crush it under one delicate pump.

“Better?” The attitude cuts cruelly through your voice. Katsuki just pushes the other glass into your hand and you know that it’s gin before you even have to smell it. You roll your eyes.

“The healthier alternative,” you snarl, but he’s finished with your games.

“Come inside,” he prompts. “You’re gonna lose your nose out here.”

“I’m not sure that’s your problem any longer.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you? Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Katsuki, I wanna hear you say it.”

He’s throwing back an irritated slug of his drink, but he bristles, gesturing wildly with the cup.

“Like we’re not gonna be partners anymore.”

His voice is punctuated by a horrible, involuntary sob that breaks from your lips. He’s always been able to read you so well, picking up on things that you’re not even ready to acknowledge. But he’s right. That is how you’ve been speaking, because you can’t even imagine standing next to him in a photo right now, let alone letting him take your life into his hands.  

Katsuki moves forward, shocked by your tears, but you hold your empty palm out straight and, like he would only for you, he relents.

“Because I don’t think we can be anymore.”

“Shut up. Look at you. You’re fine. You look…” his eyes cast briefly over your form, “fine.”

You clap a hand protectively to your abdomen, remembering the painful tug and knowing that he’s missing the point.

“That’s not why,” you snap through your tears. “That’s not even…close to why. Katsuki, don’t be dense.” Your voice is breaking because you’re about to say it, the thing you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel as you were zipped into your gown earlier tonight. And if you’re going to say it, there’s no point in doing it with gusto.

Might as well go out like the whimpering fool you are.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whine, “because somehow, despite my best efforts, Katsuki, I fell fucking in love with you, so hard, and you knew I did, and so you…you don’t. You don’t, and I’ve ruined everything, and that’s fine, but I—”

He pulls your name from the very depths of his chest. If you were expecting fire and brimstone, you’re met with an even more harrowing sight—soft, somber, remorseful Katsuki, looking at you like he’d stop the world on its axis if it would make things better.

The memories are too easy to reconjure, and the sunshine of that sticky summer afternoon that changed everything lights up behind his gaze.

There was a crime syndicate you’d been uprooting for months. An underground hideout tucked well away from the prying eyes of hero society. A stray spray of bullets—bullets, of all things, finding the gaps in your shattered armour and nearly taking you from him.

You’d been sure. Both of you. There were too many shots. There was too much blood. The hideout was too well-hidden for anybody to find you in time. Your vision was bleeding out around the edges, and you saw Katsuki cry real tears for the first time.

In a slurred heap of breathless prose, you’d unloaded everything. The most important secret you’d ever kept from him came spilling from your blood-tinged lips.

You were glad to go, if it meant you never had to lose him. Glad to be the one to selfishly leave him behind. You were going to be okay if you never had to face a world without him in it. Because—and you’d choked this on a fresh wave of blood and ungraceful spittle—you’d loved him as long as you’d ever known him.

Six days later, you woke up alone in the ICU. And that was the last you’d seen or heard or known of the man who’d once promised to have your back, always.

Katsuki silently finishes his drink. His cheeks and nose have flushed deeply from the ruthless chill, and he turns to give the city one last glance before moving toward the door.

“Come inside,” he gruffs. Deep shivers have broken out along the column of your spine, but you wrap your frigid arms around yourself in protest.

“I’m not going back in there.” Not like this.

“Idiot,” he snaps softly. “Look at you. You’re gonna die for real if you stay out here.” He tightens his jaw and slams the empty glass down on the windowsill. Then he looks at you with all the lights of the night blazing in his crimson stare.

“Let me take you somewhere quiet. No one’s gonna see.” His chest rises and falls with a deep breath and he reaches carefully for your arm. “I promise.”

Even with a breaking heart, you’re a fucking sucker for him. Your voice is teary and pathetic but pinched by cold.

“Fine.”

He slips an arm around your shoulders���making your chest lurch—and you duck back inside. Immediately he takes you to the wall, putting himself between you and the rest of the party. With the breadth of his chest he shields you from prying eyes that grow drunker by the minute.

You skirt the edge of the party, making it to the stairwell door on the opposite wall. Somebody by the bar looks up just in time to see Bakugou tugging fiercely down on the handle, but you slip onto the fluorescent-lit landing and the silver door falls shut behind you without consequence.

You’re turning around to grab for the door that isn’t closing fast enough as he slips through it, colliding gently with his chest. Bakugou grabs your wrists to stop you, and for an instant you’re nose-to-nose, smelling him and the whiskey on his breath and the faint odour of paint that never quite faded from the concrete walls.

If not for the tears leaving streaks in your makeup, you might let yourself believe he’s lingering in front of you on purpose.

You pull from his grip and turn back toward the stairs before either of you have the chance to imagine more.

Your office is at the end of the hall on the next floor down. It’s a corner office studded with windows, far too lovely for someone who spends as much time in the field as you do. But you’d worked hard to make it a personable space, with plants and artwork and a couple of very comfortable guest chairs in emerald velvet.

Katsuki rolls his eyes every time he has to wave off the odour of your favourite scented candle, but you’ve caught him admiring what you’ve done with his office, too.

Now, the space is too tidy for either of your tastes, a little dusty from so many months of neglect. You’ve been out of commission for six months, and nursing a heartbreak far too immense to allow any casual visits to the agency.

He closes the door behind the both of you. Locks it, just in case. You’re already pacing across the rug and perching on the edge of the desk, gratefully taking some of the weight off your aching feet.

He keeps his back to you for a long moment, fingers lingering on the brass doorknob. His shoulders bob with a deep, harrowing sigh.

“You were dying.”

He turns around, and in the quiet dark of your office his eyes are lit up with a deeper fear than you’ve ever seen in him. He comes toward you and sits in one of your squishy little chairs, steepling his fingers and settling his elbows on his knees.

“You don’t–” he shakes his head and lowers it, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead. “You don’t understand. You weren’t making any sense.”

“I was,” you bite back, gripping at the edge of your desk. “I meant everything I said to you, Katsuki; I remember every word.”

He flinches. He looks so sorry it’s starting to genuinely scare you.

“And then I woke up in the hospital alone, and I saw the doctor alone and took a taxi home alone. I went to physical therapy alone and saw my counsellor alone. Whatever you thought, Katsuki, whatever you believed made me spend six months staring at my phone and thinking I’d ruined everything—”

“That’s not it,” he demands, straightening. “You didn’t. I did.” He slapped a hand against his chest, the dull thud reverberating through your own heart.

“You said those things and I didn’t believe you. They couldn’t have been true. Not when I’d spent so much fucking time wishing they could be. I couldn’t tell myself you felt that way about me. I couldn’t hope. Not when I’d come so fucking close to losing you so easily, I—”

His voice breaks and he looks away, and you might be crazy but his chin gives a telltale little shake like he’s holding back tears.

“So you thought it would be easier to what? Fucking ghost me like a bad Tinder date?”

That hurts more than it should. You’ve seen Bakugou at his very worst, bleeding and soot-streaked and showing you feelings he never means to. For a very brief period in your lives, you believed yourself to be special.

“Don’t play the innocent,” he snarls. “You never talked to me, either. I had to find out from my fucking manager that you were outta the hospital.”

“So you never thought to drop by? Bring some fucking… flowers?” You can feel the venom filling your mouth and you’re not altogether certain you’re strong enough to swallow it this time.

“And tell you what? That I was in love with you and, maybe I heard you wrong, but you said something while you were dying in my fuckin’ arms and I was hoping for some goddamned clarification?”

“Yes!” You sob, the word ripping itself from your chest and landing wet and heavy on the floor between you. “That! Anything would have been better than radio fucking silence. Katsuki, I was sure you hated me.”

“Well I fucking love you, okay?” He rises from his chair, taking one step forward. It lands him almost right between your thighs and you hate how close he is, but you have no power to pull away. He cups your jaw in strong, gentle fingers, forcing your eyes to his.

“I fucked up,” he presses. He leans down and presses his forehead to yours and this time his proximity is on purpose. You drink it down in eager gulps.

“I missed you,” he murmurs. Despite your tears and the ache in your heart, you give a wet little laugh and nuzzle your nose against his.

“I missed you, too.”

He takes your hands and pulls them both to his chest. And for a long moment you just sit there, curled over one another in the dark and growing accustomed to the idea of being okay again.

“Did you just…” you start after a long moment of silence. His eyelashes flutter against your cheek as he tucks his cheek against yours, but the grin that pulls your mouth is enough for him to stand back and look at you.

“Did you just admit to making a mistake?”

You’re laughing at your own joke before Katsuki can even roll his eyes. But he’s scowling good-naturedly and tugging himself against you by the hips.

“C’mere, you brat.”

He’s leaning in to close the distance between you when muffled chanting from upstairs makes you pause. You tilt an ear toward the window and light up, easily recognizing the five, four, three, two, one as the magnitude builds.

Bright flashes of gold and red light up the sky outside your window in a brilliant display. And all at once the lingering ache drains from your chest and you shoot Katsuki a fond little smile.

“I guess it’s midnight.”

“We missed the fireworks,” he notes, nodding toward the window as he edges back toward you.

“Not really,” you confess, and the first real big smile breaks through the pain when he steps up between your knees again, nice and tight and deliberate.

He cups your jaw in one hand again, settling the other palm on your knee, where it peeks through the golden slip of your dress.

“Happy New Year,” you whisper, eyes falling shut. You hear the way he smiles, that bare little chuckle that used to make your heart light up like stars.

He leans in and kisses you without another word. It’s soft but firm and so loving, so much better than any brush of the hand or lingering glance. Better, even, than the way he danced you into a stupor upstairs. This is yours and nobody else’s.

And you’re not letting him go anytime soon.

You let the kiss deepen as naturally as you can, dropping your jaw and letting the bare press of his tongue roll against your teeth. You reach up and grab his jacket by its lapels, hitching him even closer as the fireworks die out behind you.

He’s not backing down, either. Katsuki draws his hands from your body to unbutton his jacket, shrugging it away easily without breaking the kiss. He’s pressing his mouth to yours in long, lingering spells, tasting you eagerly while his hands have to stay busy. But as soon as he can he’s touching you again, teasing his fingers under the slit of your dress and brushing them over your bare thighs.

“Katsuki…” you whine into his mouth, turning your head to gasp and fill your empty lungs. He finds the next bare patch of skin, kissing down the side of your jaw. He finds your earring where it lays against your tender neck, sucking the crystal into his mouth and giving it a gentle tug.

“Fuck,” you gasp, and he grins into your skin.

“Don’t tell me you’ve had enough already.”

“Not a chance,” you growl. There are millions of questions flooding your subconscious. But years of tension and desire spiral more fiercely between you. It’s energy that demands release. And you don’t want to wait another second.

“God,” he groans hard, collapsing gently into you. As he presses forward against you, the twitching swell of his erection pushes into your bare thigh. You slide your palms down the meat of his chest and find his mouth again, kissing him with searing intent.

“Look at you,” he rasps into your mouth, gripping hard at the weighty skirt of your beaded gown. “You’re a goddamned vision in this, you know that?”

You pull back to look at him, raw sexual energy briefly dispersed by his tender confession. For a long moment you sit there, panting at each other, remembering how much this is about to mean.

Fuck it. If he’s in, so are you.

“Help me get it off.”

You slide to your feet, pushing him back a couple of steps to accommodate you. As soon as you turn around he’s sliding a palm up your side, thumbing at the fabric to find its zipper.

“God damn,” he growls, leaning in to kiss a path down the column of your spine. He drops to one knee as he works the zipper down the back of the dress—sitting low, thanks to its open back—letting his mouth trail all the way to the waistband of your underwear. All the while, you brace a palm on the edge of your desk, trying your best not to implode.

This is more attention than you ever could have prayed for.

He peels the thin straps down your arms and shoves the whole mess to your feet. You’re bending down to unbuckle the straps on your heels, but he stops you with a hand on the back of your thigh.

“Leave ‘em on.”

His voice sends a sharp pang of arousal through your entire body. When he stands, trailing his fingers all the way up the back of your naked thigh and over the swell of your ass, the arousal disperses into a dull ache that settles in the pit of your stomach and throbs incessantly.

He digs his fingers into the flesh of your hip and turns you to face him. Your nipples are already peaking in the chill of your office, and he sucks a deep breath through his teeth as he slides his palms up your tummy.

There’s puckered scar tissue and new ridges on your abdomen, but there’s no pain when he traces brushes over them.

He pauses, looking down with dull shock tugging his brow. You’re holding your breath again, watching him circle the roughest part of your new scars with one tender thumb.

“It’s okay,” you plead, cupping his cheeks and forcing his eyes back to yours. There’s pain littering his gaze that you’re determined to dissolve, and you lean in to kiss him until he’s groaning into your mouth and drawing his hands toward your chest.

“God,” you breathe, goosebumps betraying you as they race beneath his fingers. Katsuki watches your face as he dips his head, pushing your breasts together and laying kisses between them.

“Please,” you whimper, reaching forward and settling a hand over the front of his pants. You palm the shape of his cock through the pressed wool and he flinches, biting gently into your tender flesh.

“Katsuki,” you pant, squeezing and rubbing the hard swell in a gentle, heady rhythm as you set your ass on the edge of your desk again. “I need you.”

“Jesus,” he curses, dropping his hands and reaching desperately for his tie. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me before I even get my cock out, sweetness.”

It’s the dirtiest thing he’s ever said to you. And it shows. You’re a shivering, lustblown mess already, but the petname that falls from his lips is enough to make you whimper.

He shrugs out of his shirt and pushes you further onto the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you and pushing your thighs apart with strong fingers.

“Always kinda wanted to do this in here,” he confesses with that cocky smirk that’s always made a hummingbird out of your heart.

But Katsuki doesn’t give you too much time to swoon over his pretty words, kissing a path up the inside of one plush thigh and nipping at your sensitive flesh. He helps you brace your heels against the rug and lift your hips, peeling your underwear off and rucking it down your knees. There’s something very naughty about the way it feels to settle your bare ass on your polished desk.

But there’s something even naughtier about the way it feels to have Katsuki on his knees in front of you.

He pushes your thighs apart again, harsher this time, and settles your knees over his shoulders. You’d like to ride the wave of self-consciousness that threatens to crest when his breath ghosts over the folds of your heated sex.

He pushes higher for a moment, taking your sides in his hands and drawing lovely little kisses down the rough length of your scar. You push self-consciously at his head, making him pull pack and settle a hand over the flesh instead. He tilts his chin up, shooting you a look so filled with guilt and sorrow it nearly shatters the moment.

He wasn’t there for the pain. And as he kisses back down to your hips and thighs, you let yourself hope that this will be enough to make up for it on both sides.

But then he leans in and licks a long stripe up your cunt and the groan that echoes from his chest makes it hard to do anything but cum on the spot.

“Fuck,” you sigh wantonly, letting your head fall back as you brace your palms on the wood behind you. Your fingertips dig into the surface and he settles into an easy rhythm, slipping his arms under your thighs and tugging you tight to his face.

He’s not shy with his voice, either, grunting and sighing into your pussy with every stroke of his tongue. The noises double your pleasure almost immediately, coupled with the obscene slurps that vibrate all the way up your spine.

It doesn’t take long at all for him to find that tender little spot, the perfect direction from which to swirl his tongue against your clit. It’s obvious in the way your legs go tight around the sides of his head, the way you shiver and cry and clap a hand to the back of his head.

He grunts hard into your body when your fingers rake through his hair, harder still when your tense thighs press the narrow points of your heels into the flesh of his back.

“Katsu,” you whimper, already fucked out and tender like you’ve never been for him, “I’m gonna cum. Fucking shit, I-I’m gonna…”

He takes your warning like a hit, leaning more fiercely into you, keeping his rhythm with intense precision. Later, you’ll try not to think about why he’s so good at this. But right now, all you can think about is the way your pleasure rears up and crashes over you, sending loud gasps and breathy mewls of ecstasy from your chest as you squeeze his head and pull his hair and roll your hips shakily into his persistent mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” he snarls, sitting back on his haunches and swiping a palm over his flushed lips. He looks up at you, rubbing your thigh with one free hand as you come down panting from your ecstatic high. Between his legs, his cock juts obscenely down one thigh of his suit pants, and he palms himself shamelessly as he gets to his feet, taking in every inch of your pleasure-soaked self.

“You’re gonna make me cream my fuckin’ pants someday,” he chides, fumbling with his belt and impatiently shucking his pants. His undershorts follow closely, and you’re barely on your feet again before he takes you by the shoulders and turns your back to him.

“C’mere.” He slides a hand under one of your thighs, hitching it gently onto the edge of your desk and coming up tightly behind you. The brush of his knuckle against your ass proves that he’s stroking himself, and the tip of his stiff cock leaves a little print of wet precum on the back of your leg.

“Please,” you moan, still hazy and shaken from your first orgasm. Still endlessly needy, though, when Katsuki’s involved. “God, baby, just fuck me already.”

“Fuckin’ hell, you can’t say shit like that,” he groans, twitching behind you. “It’s like you don’t know how fuckin’ sexy you are.”

He braces a hand on your bare hip and then you feel it, the tip of his drooling cock pressing up between your slippery folds. It’s enough to make you whine and arch your back, wiggling your hips impatiently against his.

It’s enough to make Katsuki lose it.

“Shit,” he growls, gripping the fat of your hip and pushing forward, sliding home with one smooth thrust. He bottoms out inside you right away, buried perfectly in your belly and making you feel every inch.

“Baby—” you start to breathe, but he doesn’t waste time. Katsuki reaches around and lays his palm flat on your sternum, pulling you back against him. He keeps his other hand braced on your hip for leverage, dropping his mouth to the crook of your shoulder while he starts to thrust.

All you can do is keep your knee planted on the edge of your desk and try not to scream as he fucks you in steady, long thrusts, lapping and sucking all along the side of your neck while his hand roams over your chest and thumbs your nipple. Whatever hairstyle you’d left the house with has come long undone by now and you’re sure that if your makeup wasn’t smudged before, it’s certainly not going to survive the drool and sweat and heat that he’s forcing through you with every push of his hips.

The slap of his body against yours fills the space, punctuated only by your harsh pants and quiet whines of pleasure. Katsuki’s fingers dig harshly into your hip, gripping you tighter each time he anchors himself back into your fluttering cunt. Your walls are clamping ruthlessly around him, but he doesn’t miss a beat, slipping that free palm away from your nipples and down your belly to strum rhythmically at the swell of your stiff clit.

“I love you,” he grunts breathlessly behind you, and the raw truth behind it brings a rush of warmth to your chest you can’t ignore. You turn your head sharply towards him, pushing your forehead to his and feeling every beat as his breathing becomes laboured.

His body’s growing tight behind yours, his thrusts losing some of their impeccable rhythm as his brow knits against yours. He’s concentrating hard—holding back, you realize—and you reach down to cover his hand that braces your hip, giving it a relenting squeeze.

“Baby,” you plead. “Let go for me, baby, I can feel it.”

“God,” he mutters. “No—fuck, gonna make you—with me, sweetness.” Your body is clenching in preparation for your own climax already, and the fact that he can even pick up on it shouldn’t surprise you.

“I’m there,” you promise. “I’m there, Katsuki, fuck, just cum for me. Please.”

His arms tighten around you, seizing you hard against his heaving chest. You lean forward and seal your mouth against his, kissing him as he loses control and cums with a shout that echoes at the back of your throat.

He grabs your ass in one hand and fucks madly into you, spurting warm handfuls of cum into your belly and biting down hard on your lower lip. The erratic twitch of his fingers on your still-aching clit and the warm release inside you is enough to bring you to another tight, simpering little peak—not as powerful as the first one, but just as significant.

He stays behind you for a long moment, pinning you to the desk while he goes soft inside you. Finally he peppers kisses down the back of one shoulder and steps away from you, already smoothing his hair and taking in the image of you, in nothing but your heels, dripping with his cum.

The first of many, you let yourself hope, as you turn to carefully face him.

“I guess we missed the countdown,” you quip, reaching for your discarded panties. Navigating the strappy thing seems a great deal more complicated now that it’s not Katsuki tearing them off you.

He smirks at you in a way that does not make it easier to concentrate on the task at hand. Especially since he’s watching you struggle, easily buttoning himself into his now-creased shirt.

“I didn’t miss a thing.”  

He’s already half-clothed by the time you get your underwear on again, stooping to collect your delicate dress from the floor and thumbing the sequins that pepper its surface. His smirk has dissolved into another pensive look as he examines the cloth.

“If I’d known,” he tells you, pressing the scratchy fabric into your hands, “I never would’ve—”

You lean up and push your mouth to his, soft and loving and just enough to silence him.

“I know.”

Once Katsuki’s got the rest of his clothes on, he helps you carefully into your dress and gets behind you one more time to help you zip it. He can’t stop kissing you even for a minute, peppering his lips over your back, neck, arms. He turns you around and takes your hands, kissing the backs of each palm with devotion that, if you stop and think about it, you’ve seen in his eyes a thousand times before.

“You’ll make it up to me,” you promise good naturedly, letting him slide his arms around your waist. He looks at you again, diligent and honest.

“I will.”

“Good.”

You slide your hands up his sleeves of heart-stealing midnight blue, smiling so big it ought to hurt. You tilt your head toward the door, giving your chin a little jerk as you squeeze his biceps through the pressed wool.

“For a start,” you say, daring to lean a little closer while he’s still feeling tender, “how about another dance?”

[longlivejasongrace]

about wylan van eck and kaz brekker

ever since i finished the duology i havent been able to stop thinking about the similitudes and differences between wylan and kaz. they certainly look like they should be at the opposite sides of the spectrum and they are but that doesn't mean they dont share some key traits that make them very similar if you care to look more closely.

wylan obviously personifies the role of the naïve member to counterpoint this band of thieves: a boy who grew up in privilege and who has never had to fence for himself until he had to swim for his life a couple of months before the events of six of crows. wylan's firm moral compass doesn't help him integrate to the thug life and only highlights how new he is to this world. in many ways, wylan is just like young kaz: honest and earnest, someone who believes in kindness over greed.

they are both very intelligent characters who are motivated by curiosity. i feel like people forget that kaz rietvield was the one who learned about magic and sleight of hand, not kaz brekker. he didn't try to crack that mystery because he thought it would be necessary or useful, he was just curious. he tries to spin it as a way to show how crooked he is, how he just cant let things go, but it doesnt change the fact that it was a very childish impulse which interested him so much in sleight of hand.

wylan is also very curious, he likes to understand how things work, he needs to understand. while kaz learned just because (at first), wylan uses his curiosity as a way to have more tools against the weakness he sees in not being able to read, a way to balance it out so to speak. since he cant learn via the academic route he throws himself in studying in his own way to try to parse this world which has closed so many doors for him.

you could say, well they're both curious about the world around them, so what? the thing is, the whole question about where the water comes from is how kaz discovers an escape route from the white island. if wylan had been motivated to keep digging he would have probably found the same answer.

expanding on this, kaz and wylan can see the world from the same perspective

it's not something that comes naturally to wylan in the sense that he usually doesnt use his knowledge to do criminal activity lol but they both see things as puzzles, objects to be made sense of.

another similarity: wylan can be pretty ruthless. i feel like people forget this too often

but of course, he wouldn't ever reach the level of cruelty kaz achieves since after everything wylan has a conscience lol (can you imagine wylan throwing someone off a building or taking their eye out with an oyster knife? yeah, i didn't think so. he's not above burning people tho lol)

this is a small detail but i believe it wasn't random, it's another link between kaz and wylan:

wylan is the only other character besides kaz to have a "scheming face". it's not only kinda funny to picture the 'innocent' wylan as some kind of evil mastermind, it shows how wylan does have the potential to be like the current kaz. he definitely has the brain for it

because by crooked kingdom wylan understands how kaz' mind works

(notable how wylan is one of the few who lies to kaz and kaz lets him get away with it. wylan knew it was no coincidence kaz gave that information for free but he didn't have enough context clues to imagine what he would find if he went to Saint Hilde)

his background and what he has learned from the crows also helps him see bad decisions where jesper does not

(what does it matter? because for all intent and purposes both wylan and jesper are outsiders, they didn't grew up in the barrel but wylan understood its laws from being there for like half a year while jesper has been a part of the crew for longer but still keeps a bit of his innocence when it comes to deals)

and wylan is usually the one who gets the most detailed parts of the plans

either from the merch side of the equation:

or the puzzle side:

this is a minor detail but another thing that links kaz and wylan together is jesper. not only because jesper expresses romantic interest in both of them, but because of what he sees in the two of them.

jesper about why he likes kaz:

jesper and how he sees wylan:

in conclusion (im sorry this is so long):

while i wouldn't say wylan is kaz' literary foil, he definitely embodies the impressionable kaz rietveld, just like jesper can be a projection of what jordie would have become if he hadn't died. wylan is very clever but unlike kaz he hasn't lost the things that connected him to his humanity and kindness: his moral compass and his hope for reuniting with his family. Marya Hendricks becomes a powerful motivator after wylan finds her and wylan goes through all these trials and tribulations for her. kaz lost that kind of connection when he was too young and went through a devastatingly traumatic event on top of that to ever be able to recover from it.

(not to say kaz is completely ruthless, he just has reshaped himself so he can supress that natural reflex of helping others. both wylan and kaz are very loyal to the people they trust, even if kaz has to disguise the fact and make it look like every freaking decision is made only to serve himself)

i wish people stopped seeing wylan as this angel who can do no wrong or as a wimpy kid who cant stomach what it needs to be done. it's a disservice to his character because while he is understandably scared through most of the duology, he makes conscious decisions not to lose himself in the violence and the cruelty of the barrel.

honorary mention: all the tricks and ways wylan has picked up to hide how he cant read, like using the fact he's a newcomer to not understand directions, mentioning how he doesn't know enough fjerdan to write the names in the plans he's drawing, claiming he doesn't understand someone's handwriting and many more.

[myrandomfandomramblings]

The Beach - a The Rookie/Chenford Fanfic

“7-Adam-11, show us responding,” Jackson said over the radio as Lucy leaned back against her headrest defeatedly.

“I didn’t think I’d ever say this but I really don’t want to go to the beach.” “Like ever again,” she added even as she took the first turn towards their destination. 

LA was 4 days into a record heat wave and over that time Lucy had learnt a few important things 1) Unsurprisingly, extreme heat causes everyone to flock to the ocean. 2) It also makes people extremely irritable. 3) Lots of irritable people packed together in large groups leads to chaos and 4) wool uniforms are not ideal attire for patrolling beaches in temperatures around 100. 

So after 4 days she was over it. She had spent Monday with Jackson getting sworn at, honked at and nearly run over as they directed traffic at the busiest beaches in the city. She spent Tuesday with Tim breaking up beach brawls, confiscating contributing alcohol and watching bikini clad woman flirt with Tim. At least 8 different woman had asked him to rub sunscreen on them or suggested he take off his shirt to cool down. She had rolled her eyes so much she had given herself a headache. Although it may have been the sun. Yesterday, her and Nolan and responded to a report of a missing child who was feared drowned or kidnapped but turned out had followed the music of an ice cream truck four blocks and was found, about 30 minutes after the officers arrived, happily eating a fudgiscle. However, they were kept at the beach for the remainder of their shift by various citizens with complaints ranging from seagulls, wasps and possible sharks to thieves, streakers and possible melanoma. 

Now her and Jackson were headed back to a beach where the adjacent shrubbery was currently being consumed by a blazing bush fire, which was in all likelihood human caused and spreading fast. Therefore all hands were on deck as the LAPD worked with the LAFD to keep civilians safe, extinguish the fire and investigate its cause.

The rest of her shift passed in a blur as they interviewed witnesses, cordoned off the area, issued evacuation orders, ensured those who needed it got medical attention, joined a production line passing large buckets of water from the ocean to where the fire was burning and debriefed with their team which included Nolan and Tim, and Lopez and Harper. Luckily in the end, the fire was successfully extinguished, those living nearby were safe and happily back in their homes and the perpetrator, a cigarette butt flicker, was caught. But not until nearly 11pm by which time the entire team was exhausted, scorching and covered in soot and ash. With their job done the team of 6 headed away from the scene back along the beach to where they had parked their shops. They were right on the sand where they left them to create a barrier preventing people from wandering toward the fire and the beach around them was abandoned. Likely due to a combination of the late hour, the fire itself and the fact that the stretch of beach they were on was only accessible by walking about a mile from one of the main beaches on either side or by scrambling down the steep cliff behind them.

“Anybody want a cold one,” Nolan asked when they reached the vehicles, “well a hot one I guess” he amended as he pulled out a six pack he had confiscated earlier in the day from the trunk of his shop. Everybody made a face at the offer of hot beer but since the only light around came from the shops headlights shining in the opposite direction Nolan didn’t see them.

“Screw it, I’ll take one,” Angela said.

“Wesley and Patrice took the baby to meet the extended Evers clan so I have nowhere to be and now that I’m no longer breastfeeding I can have whatever I want. Even if that’s gross beer that’s been sitting in a hot car all day,” she explained.

“If we dig a hole near the water line it will fill with cold seawater and we can make a makeshift beer fridge,” Jackson suggested but Angela had already opened her can and was sipping away.

“I’ll help dig the hole,” Nyla offered. “I’d rather hangout here then go back to the station to do paperwork and Lila’s with her dad so I also have no where I have to be.”

“I’ll call Grey and tell him we’re clocking out and will do the paperwork in the morning,” Tim offered.

“Your staying?” Lucy asked a little too excitedly, “what about Kojo?” she quickly added.

“Tamara called several hours ago and offered to give him dinner, take him for a walk and put him to bed.”“She saw the fire on the news and rightly assumed we’d have our hands full,” he finished.

30 minutes later they all sat in the sand around their makeshift beer fridge. Shoes, socks and button up shirts discarded and pants pulled up to their knees. 3 flashlights were in the middle of the group, pointing skyward, their handles buried in the sand. They laughed as they went around and told stories.

“How is it still this hot?” Lucy asked a while later.  It was after midnight and the temperature had yet to even consider dropping below 90. 

She pulled her white t-shirt away from her skin fanning, herself. 

“I’m going swimming,” she declared ready to stand up.

“Your going swimming? Right Now? In that?” Tim asked gesturing to her cotton tee and woolen pants.

Lucy shook her head. “I was just going to go in my underwear but now that I think about it I don’t really want to have to drive back to the station in soaking wet underwear.”

Tim nodded as if this is what he expected but Lucy didn’t see him and continued.

“I guess I’ll just skinny dip,” she concluded.

Tim managed to both spit out and choke on the sip of beer he had just taken.

Everybody else’s faces were turned towards Tim and wearing amused expressions but they were saved his annoyance due to the limited light and the fact that his attention was still fully on Lucy.

“What?” She asked Tim, “It’s not a big deal. It’s dark. Plus everybody here has already seen me naked.” 

“Well except you,” she added, which earned another spit take from Tim.

Lucy rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. She loved seeing Tim flustered, especially when it was her doing.

“What?” He finally managed to ask in a strained voice after a few harsh coughs to clear his throat.

“Everybody here’s seen Lucy naked but you,” Lopez offered, “although that was bound to change sometime soon,” she added.

Lucy and Tim both turned to look at her wide eyed. Nolan and Nyla were both hiding smirks and Jackson wore an expression of mainly panic as he spoke.

“She’s drunk. She has no idea what she’s saying,” Jackson offered before turning to look daggers at Angela and whisper something in her ear.

Lucy thought she heard the words bet, interference and disqualified but she couldn’t be sure.

When he finished Angela addressed them again. “Sorry, apparently my tolerance took a nose dive since pre-pregnancy. I didn’t mean anything by that I got you mixed up with Smitty and what’s her face,” she finished waving her hand disparagingly.

“Hmm,” Lucy said clearly not buying her lame excuse but Tim still had his mind on other things.

“Why has everybody else here seen you naked?” he asked, his tone almost suspicious.

Lucy laughed. “Are you jealous?”

He fixed her with his best TO look. “No.”

Lucy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes yet again and answered.

“Communal showers at work,” she began gesturing to Nyla and Angela. “Best friends and roommates” she added pointing to Jackson. “Life gets crazy. Sometimes closing doors or throwing on clothes just isn’t a priority,” she explained seeing Tim’s confused expression. “Also we had to help each other into and out of the bath after we were injured.” She didn’t have to specify her kidnapping or the beating Jackson took to take down Doug Stanton. This group knew. “It’s kind of ironic that when everything hurts all you want is a warm bath but when everything hurts it’s nearly impossible to get yourself into and out of a bathtub,” she finishes. “Oh and Nolan and I used to date.” She says it as almost an afterthought, super casual. But all the former TOs still look at her with shock.

“You and Nolan?” Nyla asks with a laugh. “Really?” “No offense,” she adds addressing Nolan.

“Ah, none taken?” Nolan replies, clearly confused by her reaction.

“When?” Lopez asks looking between the two P2s.

“For a couple months while we were in the academy. We called it off shortly after we started at Mid-Wilshire,” Nolan supplied.

“Wow, I just can’t picture it,” Angela continued shaking her head.

“Why would you want to picture it?” Tim spat. Then seemed to catch himself and schooled his scowl back into a blank expression.

“Why’d you call it off, anyway?” Angela asked. Half actually curious. Half just trying to do her friend a solid and take the attention off him.

“Bishop warned me that dating a fellow cop would brand me and could ruin my career,” Lucy answered and thought she saw Tim flinch. It was impossible to tell for sure with just the flashlights, nevertheless she added, “Somethings matter more-“ she was staring right at Tim now “-are worth the gossip, the assumptions, the risk.” As she said it she saw his expression change but she couldn’t read it. “But our relationship wasn’t one of those things. We’re better as friends, anyway,” she finished addressing the whole group but looking at Nolan specifically for confirmation.

“Agreed,” Nolan nodded holding up his beer.

“To friends,” Jackson said clicking his to Nolan’s.

“To friends,” everybody joined in clinking their cans together.

“So who’s coming skinny dipping with me?” Lucy asked as she started to make her way back to the vehicles where she could leave her clothes in a place where they’d stay sand free.

“I will,” said Angela, “pregnancy and caring for a baby really makes modesty go out the window. The two beers I’ve had don’t hurt either.” She began to follow Lucy to the cars.

“I’m in,” Jackson offered, “with you two practically glowing in the dark nobody will even notice me.” He teased as he got up to join them, earning a playful shove from Lucy.

“Nobody’s here to see anything anyway.” She retorted.

“Go ahead. I might join you later.” Nolan said and Nyla and Tim nodded in agreement.

10 minutes later. Lucy, Angela and Jackson’s clothes were inside Jackson and Lucy’s shop and they were out in the ocean. It dropped off quickly so they weren’t that far away from the beach even though the water came to just below Lucy’s shoulders. After four days of blazing heat and the fire on top today, the cool water felt like heaven to her. She dipped and dove through the water, relishing the cool and wiped at her face and hands to remove the soot that had coated them earlier. Beside her Angela was trying to show Jackson what her son does when they put him in the water. This led to reminiscing about childhood summers spent at the beach or in backyard and community pools. And before they knew it they were playing old games from those days. John and Nyla had joined them by this time. Claiming some combination of escaping the heat, joining the fun and more beer as the motivation. They were currently having breath holding contests.

“I win!” Jackson exclaimed as he came up for air to find everyone else already up.

“You cheated,” Lucy argued, “I saw you come up while I was still under. I had my eyes open.”

“I did not. Plus it’s pitch black under there you couldn’t possibly have seen anything.”

“Did Jackson come up?” Lucy yelled at Tim who was still sitting on the shore.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching,” he replied casually with a slight shrug.

“Yes you were,” Angela argued, “you haven’t taken your eyes off Lucy since she got in here,” then realizing what she said she quickly ducked back under the water. 

Everybody still above the surface froze.

Then after a beat. “So did he come up or not. I need to know if I won,” Nyla asked, all business.

“He floated to the surface but didn’t lift his head up. He won,” Tim offered defeatedly.

“Told you!” Jackson bragged.

“Rematch. 3,2,1 go,” shouted Nyla as everybody ducked back under the water. Lucy a split second behind everybody else as her attention was still on Tim. 

She came up about 30 seconds later just as a wave was passing by her and managed to swallow a good serving of water. She coughed and sputtered but before she knew it Jackson and Nolan were beside her and she was assuring them she was Ok just needed a bit of time to catch her breath. As she swam towards the shore to rest in the shallows she noticed Tim was just sitting back down and his pants were wet to just above the knee. But she didn’t let herself focus on it.

She swam to just in front of where he sat laying on her stomach on the ocean floor, head just above the water.

“You OK?” He asked shifting his eyes to her for the first time since she swam up.

“Ya fine, just swallowed a little water,” she assured him.

“Looks like you guys are having fun out there,” he nodded indicating the group still farther out.

“Ya the water feels amazing. You can’t honestly tell me that you aren’t hot.” She had meant it literally. He was sitting in above 90 degree weather with wool pants on. But then she realized he had taken off his white shirt and his muscled chest and stomach were currently on full display and the word took on an entirely different meaning. She was thankful for the darkness as it hid her blush but even that couldn’t hide the fact that she was definitely staring. 

“The ladies on the beach the other day will be so disappointed they’re missing this,” she teased gesturing to his bare upper half, hoping to give a probable explanation for the staring.

He gave a short laugh. “Not as disappointed as the meat bags who were wolf whistling at you will be that they’re missing that.” As he gestured at her he finally let himself actually take her in. Her hair was still up in its low work bun leaving her entire back exposed. The upper half of which was completely taken up by a tattoo, he had never seen before, although the light was too limited for him to make out the design. The rest of her body was hidden in shadows except her face which was now free of soot and make-up making her look young and vulnerable. Freckles brought out by the last few days of blazing sun were speckled across the bridge of her nose. Her mouth was twisted in thought and her eyes sparkled in the light of the flashlights. She really was beautiful.

While those thoughts flew through Tim’s mind Lucy was thinking about his comment about the wolf whistlers. That had happened at the very start of their shift and lasted no more than two seconds. Lucy wasn’t even sure they had been whistling at her and she had completely forgotten about it until Tim brought it up just now. Funny that he would remember. 

 They were both pulled out of their thoughts by a sudden commotion further out in the water:

“DID YOU NOT THERE IS NO PIE!”

“DO NOT THERE IS NO DIE!”

“DO OR DO NOT THERE IS NO TRY!”

Were being yelled over each other.

“What are they doing?” Tim asked looking at the group out in the water.

They were in a circle. Jackson had just given Nolan a high five then they were under again.

“I think they are playing the guess what I said under the water game,” Lucy chuckled.

Tim was about to reply but he was cut off by “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood” being shouted in unison followed by bickering about who said it first.

“I’m going back out to join them. You going to come?” Lucy asked turning her attention from the group back to Tim.

“I don’t need to be a part of that.”

“Come on Tim. You’re hot and dirty.” She still meant it literally. Really. He was covered in soot. Stupid double entendres.

He raised is eyebrows.

“Just get in the water,” Lucy said splashing water at him to vent her frustration with how flustered she was getting.

He wiped the water from his face and a small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Fine.”

Lucy beamed back at him as he stood up and walked back to the shop to discard his remaining clothes then turned her attention back to her friends.

“It’s not Angeles Direct, you’ve already guessed that three times,” Nyla was saying to Jackson

“That’s what it sounds like,” he argued “and it’s definitely closer to that than ‘embroidery period.’”

“That was my first guess. I heard wrong,” Nyla shot back.

“Oh ya cuz ‘and was dressed’ and ‘indoors divest’ were so much closer.”

Any further argument was cut-off by Nolan. “I’ve got it: Angela’s the best,” he said confidently.

“Yes and yes,” Angela confirmed.

“Your turn Nyla.” 

There was a brief silence as they all went back under the water followed by a flurry of screamed “this is stupid.”

“Happy now?” Came a quieter voice beside her and Lucy nearly jumped out of the water. She had been so wrapped up watching her friends she hadn’t even noticed that Tim had made his way back down the beach and was now sitting beside her in the water.

She smiled and nodded. “Aren’t you?”

He gave a non-committal shrug. “We’ll see after I get roped into whatever’s going on out there,” he offered but there was no bite to it. He was even smiling, although mostly with his eyes, as he looked at their friends.

“Well let’s go find out,” Lucy replied as she led the way into the deeper water.

As they approached the group they watched them go up and down and listened to their guesses.

“And further than game”

“Comforters at game”

“Temperatures endgame”

“Stanford is endgame”

“Checkers is a game.” “At least that’s a real sentence”

“Bradford has game?” “That can’t be right he most definitely doesn’t”

Then just as Tim and Lucy joined the group “Chenford is endgame!” Shouted by Angela who upon realizing Tim and Lucy had joined them turned to Jackson.

“This ones not on me it was your sentence.”

Jackson stood stunned for a second looking desperately between Tim, Lucy and Angela then swiftly closed his eyes and yelled “MARCO.”

There was a brief silence then Nolan yelled “POLO” and everyone was swimming away from Jackson at top speed. Everyone except Tim who was giving Lucy a look that said. “See what you got me into? I told you so.” 

But she was busy swimming off with the others, grateful for the distraction. So he rolled his eyes and joined the game. The water did feel amazing although he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

Calls of MARCO POLO and laughter filled the air as everybody took their turn being it: Jackson tagged Nolan who tagged Lucy who tagged Nyla who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Nolan who tagged Angela who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Lucy. Well he meant to tag Lucy. He reached his arm out and jumped towards her “POLO” but she was closer than he thought and instead of the tips of his finger tagging her shoulder he jumped right into her. He hit her hard and she responded to being knocked off her feet and down into the water instinctively by reaching for the nearest thing to prevent drowning, which happened to be him. So when he opened his eyes her arms were around his neck and her legs around his hips and her face was only about an inch from his own as she coughed up water for the second time that day.

“Are you ok?” He asked moving a piece of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.

She nodded but continued to cough as he absentmindedly stroked her back.

 “You caught me by surprise,” she breathed “I didn’t know we were playing full contact Marco Polo.”

He let out a relieved laugh, “I’m sorry.”

“A real Tim Bradford apology I never thought I’d see it in person,” Lucy teased earning an eye roll from Tim. This close Lucy could see all the different shades of blue in his eyes even in the dark. 

“It was an accident.”

“So it wasn’t some sort of Tim Test to see how I would handle a fight in the water?”

“No. You got your last Tim test a year ago when you stopped being my rookie.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” she said. “Then again we’ve been through enough for an entire career,” she added as her hand reflexively moved from his neck where it was playing with his hair to the tattoo on her her ribs.

That’s when it dawned on her just how close her and Tim were, pressed together without a shred of clothing between them. She had felt so comfortable and content she hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation and what it could lead to. She was about to put some space between them when his hand covered hers over the tattoo marking her supposed day of death. The day he saved her from being buried alive. Although he would say it marked the first day of the rest of her life. The day she saved herself. 

And the desire to move away died in an instant. 

“I kept it,” she said quietly, “because of what you said.” “Because it’s a reminder that I’m a survivor. And that my team will always have my back.”

Tim was looking at her with an expression more open than she’d ever seen. “I have one of those,” he replied softly lifting her hand up and moving it to rest on his lower left abdomen. She was confused at first but as she felt the skin beneath her finger tips she realized it was scarred. The scar from when he was shot on her second day and she pulled him out of the line of gunfire.

She smiled and looked directly into his eyes. 

“It’s a good thing we have each other in our lives,”

“Sure is,”

She was just about to lean in and close the distance between them when a voice interrupted.

“Hey you two. Keep it PG or get a room. This is a family outing.” It was Nyla.

Lucy laughed as she untangled her self from Tim and in that moment she realized two things. 1) this was most definitely her family and 2) she would very happily come back to the beach. Maybe next time she’d just bring Tim, maybe even as her boyfriend.

[fafulous]

Take Me Home (1/5)

Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)

Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.

Themes: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS ((The series is following the BOOK ENDING and not Show)), Sad and soft Andy Barber, Single Mother Reader. Cursing.

a/n: I hope you guys like it. We all know Andy deserves some softness :’)

The one thing you cherished about your neighbourhood was its calming silence.

Away from the hustle and bustle of the 21st century fast pacers. It did not give you any force to lead a rush life. No matter how hard life was you enjoyed this serenity, just like your neighbours.

You were the only one relatively younger in your neighbourhood, for this place was normally owned by retired elderly after experiencing everything life had to offer. But for you and your three-year-old little son, it was a second chance at life. All your neighbours except for that one loner house beside you was occupied by retired veterans and war heroes.

But that soon changed.

A man by the name Andrew Barber had moved to the house beside you. You got to know one day when you saw a huge truck with people going in and out of the house with clean and neat furniture.

Seeing all that, your vivid imagination went running and tried to picture how this man would look. Judging by the furniture (which made no sense), you thought your new neighbour was someone who would be simple and felt it wasn’t going to be someone who was, you know, old.

Oh boy were you right.

Once those packers went by, you saw him.

Andrew Barber was nothing what you thought out to be. Tall and broad, his back muscles would tell you its own tale. From afar you noticed his biceps never failed him too, for his arms screamed whenever he went in and out with a huge piece of cardboard boxes. His facial hair was a bit messy, like he is just moving into his new abode right after a sloth nap. You weren’t sure but his blue eyes had a dull finish that were deep embedded in his sunken face.

You also took notice of his sleek black Audi A6 which was parked by his driveway; It was not easy to peel your eyes away from its beauty.

This was wrong. You’re a single mother with the most adorable kid you could’ve ever asked for. After a struggle of six months your son Nikolai and you have found a hint of stability; single parenting is never easy unless you get the hang of it.

And you did.

Before you could offer any refreshments, your neighbours beat you to it. They were too kind. They were the elderly parents whose snobbish kids only visited once a year. Hence you decided to fill the gap in their lives. They loved you and you loved them back.

So now you decided that maybe when the time is right, you could meet him in a day or two and get to know each other.

Right?

 —

This was new for Andy. Very foreign too.

To live a life without Laurie and Jacob was something he never expected to happen after the trial. It’s been a good handful of weeks since it happened. He did not even have the heart to think more about his son. His eyes would cloud with tears and the whole day would go wasted in drowning himself in sorrow and liquor.

He was still mourning after all.

So he decided to move. Move away from his house that reminded of his 17 years of a marriage that only seemed successful, only for it go wrong in an impulse. Move away from all of the local tabloids that hinted at himself being a next murderer. 

Move away from his unsuccessful lineage.

Scattered around him were boxes of his stuff at his new house, his stuff alone. Laurie’s stuff was nearly packed and sent away to her parents’ home, the last time he’ll ever associate himself with her family.

Yes, her family.

Andy did file for a divorce while she was in prison, but that was a long procedure until it became official. However hard it was to sign those papers; it was as hard to let go of Laurie. Because if he lets her go, he has nobody.

A lone sunken soul.

The packers truck got in half of his belongings, the remaining which will come tomorrow. It was difficult moving especially with one single person. His neighbours were all elderly, so surely, he could not ask anyone for help. Also, it was another reason he chose this locality, he could be alone while he knew he lived in a tightly knitted community filled with respected war veterans. 

He was extremely taken aback when many of his neighbours offered him freshly cooked food and refreshments to get over the day. He was thankful. They knew about his past and still they accepted him and asked him to reach out if any help was needed.

Andy’s day went ahead unpacking his clothes first, which took his time. He wondered if he’d ever need the fashionable suits and ties, he wore to work. There was a job opening at a swimming instructor at the local community gym; all he needs are those Speedos. But nevertheless, he kept then all back, trying to keep his mind preoccupied in cleaning.

But all that effort seemed futile for every memory crashed down when he unpacked his wedding tux.

He felt too claustrophobic, buried his hand in his face. He no longer had a marriage. He no longer had anyone to look after.

He no longer had anyone to look after him.

But amidst all this chaos in his foggy mind, he hears a lovely toothy giggle of a child. 

He peeks out of his window to see a young mother and her small son sitting in their backyard with a picnic spread in front of them, while the little boy kept tripping over the grass purposefully just so he could laugh and make his mother laugh too. Andy had no idea he had a middle-aged family living nearby.

Seeing you and the son spread this familiar warmth inside Andy, reminiscing how he had this. It reminded Andy of a happier time. 

Soon to be replaced with anguish. He would never have that again. He missed feeling the warmth of family, the love of a wife. Life never really gave second chances he believed.

He noticed you, a caring mother placing the little one on your lap while you fed him all the scrumptious food. He didn’t fail to miss how your eyes shined with happiness. A happy woman is always a pretty woman at heart; it is something he used to tell himself. A soft chuckle left out of Andy’s lips as he saw the boy eat the food messily, but you seemed to be patient, responding lovingly towards his naughty antics. 

Her husband is one lucky son of a bitch.

He could watch you two all day, but that would be extremely inappropriate. Right now, Andy wanted his newfound house to look like a home.

Next day went by and it didn’t seem like he was getting anywhere near getting his house ready. He was waiting for another truck to get more of his stuff while he sipped on some bear till the movers arrived. They unloaded most of his stuff at his lawn and went away.

“Need a hand moving those boxes?”

Andy turned around to a gentle voice of the same woman who had he had seen yesterday with the small child.

You.

A chilly afternoon, he wasn’t surprised you sporting a loose, fluffy knitted woollen pullover with black leggings. Your hair was tied up in a bun and then noticed that he was probably staring at you for a long time.

“Uh- No. I’m fine, thank you.”

But you kept standing there looking at him smirking. He was literally struggling to carry all those boxes “Your body language says something else.”

When he looked up you saw his sunken eyes with even more detail as though the man hasn’t slept in days, “Would I be desperate man if I said yes?”

You chuckled, “Not at all. I’m Y/N Y/LN.”

“Andrew Barber”, he stretched out his hand for a warm greeting with a firm handshake. The feeling of his rough palms sends small jitters to you, but you ignored it; and just like that you resumed. 

You helped him lift the bigger boxes to his house even though you knew he carried most of the weight. Two could always get the work done sooner. Both of you didn’t talk much for these 20 minutes but it was a comfortable silence while both of you took sneaky glances at each other’s features.

When you neared him, you realized he was lot more than just handsome. Sunken face was holding two blue eyes that would be enticing if he had put any effort to put any life in them. His beard was neatly trimmed although scruffy, just like you saw yesterday.

Andy on the other hand was just too despondent to, you know, check you out. He thought you to be a beautiful woman with a kind heart, especially after seeing you and your son yesterday.

He even thought of asking you about your son and family, but that would be too intrusive he wondered.

Andy thought you’d leave after moving the boxes but you insisted you’d stay to help unpack his stuff and maybe cook some lunch for him since he didn’t even unpack his kitchen utensils out. He was ready to accept the help only for a second.

The Andrew Barber he knew before the events of the trial would have gladly accepted, maybe even made lunch for the beautiful lady, instead of you, who graciously offered him help. He was divorced now so there was nothing stopping him.

But do you really deserve a fresh start with a lady Andy?

Would she be here if she knew who you really were?

His mind was plagued. He moved here with the intention of a fresh start but, he wondered if anyone would actually accept him. He decided for himself that they wouldn’t.

“It’s alright Y/N. Thanks for your help.”

There was no way a man could set up his home all alone you thought. “Mr. Barber, are you sure? I really have no problem. I’m completely unoccupied at the moment. Besides Nikolai-”

“No.”

You blinked at his curt reply.

“I’m good Y/N. I can take care of the remaining stuff here. You can go now.”

Looking at him made you realise how conflicted he was. His words likely meant that he didn’t require your presence but his whole demeanour looked like just wanted some god damn company. He didn’t mind your help at first, but at the same time now he was pushing you away. What changed?

So much for making acquaintances with the new neighbour, you thought.

Without saying anything you stiffly nodded, Andy realizing the offence written all over your face, and saw you walk away from his abode closing his door politely.

It was probably for the best to keep distance from a kind woman like you. He knew you were trying to get acquainted with him like any normal person would, but Andy was firmly grounded that he and normalcy would never go back again.

The minute you left he opened another beer bottle to sink himself. This fresh start for Andy was just bullshit.

–

You rushed back the minute you closed Mr. Grumpy Cat’s door and made a beeline to your home, only to see your son playing on the countertop with one your elderly neighbour. 

“Thank you, Mr. Arthur, for taking care of Nikolai. I hope he didn’t cause much trouble.”

“I’d do anything for you sweet pea, Nikolai was a sweetheart.” The old man chuckled and turned to leave, “By the way last weekend’s pot pie was delicious. I had to make it up to you.”

Returning a hug, you thanked your neighbour again and leaped your son in your arms, attacking him with kissed while he spurted giggles. “Mommy it tickles!”

“Guess what happened peaches? I met our new neighbour”

Nikolai clapped his hand “Mista Wandew Bahhba?”

Your son was hell bent on knowing the name of the newcomer after he laid his eyes on the stylish black Audi. Boys always know their toys.

You nodded, “He’s a grumpy man peaches. I have no idea what to do with him.” And just like that you began speaking with Nikolai. He was your only company to talk. He never really understood anything, but your talented son did a fairly good job of putting up a pretense to hear.

“I offered him help and he says yes. Then I kindly ask him if I can help him more, you know like cook homemade spaghetti. But instead he becomes snippy with me?”

“Woh no,” your son whispered to your exclamation, which in reality was for his superhero figurines falling on to the floor. “I like his cahr mommy.”

“So do I Niko, but I so do not like him,” you paused and gave him a kiss on the forehead, “Guess we’re the only sunshine in this neighbourhood peaches.”

—

Days went by and you rarely interacted with your new neighbour.

Oh and when it did, it really never went well for you.

The first time was when a few standard posts under the name of Mr. Barber arrived at your doorstep, since he wasn’t available at his house. Like any other hospitable neighbour, you signed the post and made sure to drop it by him when he gets back.

"Uh Mr. Barber the post man dropped this by at our doorstep since you weren’t available. I thought I should give it to you.”

Andy opened the door with a few knocks and saw you standing with a few posts in a fluffy cable knit sweater. He took the posts from you, gently brushing over your hands. He perused through them quickly and gave you that conflicted stern look.

“I appreciate it Mrs. Y/L/N, but next time I’d like to collect my own posts irrespective of its nature. You can tell them I can collect it from the post office”

Was this man for real?

You crossed your arms and gave him back that stern look too. He wasn’t going to get away without you throwing shade. “Oh you know Mr. Barber I was just trying to be a good neighbour. It’s not like I’m dying here to get associated with you.”

He gave you a nasty grin which triggered you to make you leave away from his threshold.

Andy thought for a moment that he already crossed the line with the wrong woman.

The next time you met him was probably the last time you would ever meet him.

Your shift at the library got too late, for you were the Librarian of the local Library. You didn’t have to worry much about picking up your son late for he was at Mr. Arthur’s.

But coming home realising that he was sitting on the front porch of Andrew’s house made you park your car haphazardly in your driveway and run up to your child, ignoring Andrew’s presence.

“I’m so sorry sweetie. What are you doing here Niko?”

Andy interrupted, “Mr. Arthur had to visit the hospital. He was catching the flu and he didn’t want to give it to Nikolai here.”

You didn’t want to meet his gaze, but you forced yourself for you were grateful for this kind gesture. Maybe this Grumpy Cat has a kind heart after all.

“Mr. Barber, thank you so much for taking care of Niko. My phone must’ve been on silent if Arthur wanted to contact me.”

“Oh, don’t thank me Mrs. Y/L/N. I am just filling in the gaps of irresponsible parenting.”

It felt like a blunt hit to your heart. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you heard me.” he whispered so closely that you could smell his musky deodorant with a hint of beer. Your son was out of earshot, sipping on a glass of lemonade that was probably offered by this man. “Trust me I know what happens to a child that is always kept away from their caretakers.”

He quickly went on to say how Nikolai was a special child when your son came near you both and how your family should take more care in your child. You never really listened for your eyes threatened to pierce with tears. No way were you going to cry in front of this man.

“Thank you Mista Wandi.”

“Anytime buddy.”

He went up and shut the door, like it was a personal aimed at you.

And you just stood there feeling numb while Niko tugged on your work coat.

“Let’s go home Mommi.”

The audacity to tell you how to be a parent. Did he even have a child? Does he even know how to it is to take care of a child single handed?

But those questions never mattered. No matter how positive you are in life, its never nice to hear someone spew your flaws on to your face.

Meanwhile minutes passed when Andy soon realised how he had royally fucked up. Everyday around 5pm you and your child would come along to the backyard and have a snack ritual while both of you played or read story books. For Andy, though he chided himself for his stalking behaviour, it brought him a sense of peace to see your son scream with shrills of laughter when he ran around the lawn.

He had nothing against you, yet he was being selfish.

I be mean to her; I stay away from here. Simple.

Today however, Nikolai sat facing away from his ypu munching on freshly baked cookies while you sported a tear stained face. He felt a twinge when he saw you staring straight ahead with a blank stare while tears rolled down. His heart successfully sunked when he saw Nikolai trying to wipe your tears and hug you. Andrew then sat down dramatically on his chair when he saw you breakdown into your son’s fragile shoulders.

Apologies wouldn’t fix this. It would, but Andrew Barber the resilient thought that being obnoxiously rude to someone he wants to be close to will make them hate him.

He never thought it would hurt you.

He decided not to take any efforts in an apology; or it could take more than an apology.

—

A few weeks passed by and you tried your level best and succeeded in avoiding banters with Mr. Grumpy Cat. Whenever you saw him, a flurry of rage fell over you. Was it your mistake you were trying to be friendly to your only attractive neighbour?

Strike out attractive. A mean soul was never attractive.

Andrew Barber on the other hand dreaded what had happened; he was a little too late to the party to realise that your house had no male inhabitant, except for that one man who had made a visit.

He soon deduced that you were a single mother.

Too late rather Andy.

And when he recalled what he had said to you, he wanted you to slap him in the face. Hard enough to have a bruise that lasted for a year.

Nikolai and you always woke up late on a weekend morning. Both of you always shared and slept in the same room for Nikolai had regularly occurring nightmares.

You never realised but you and Niko woke up a small commotion outside your house, or probably his house.

Plus, the other day it so happened Nikolai’s father paid a terribly long visit, pleading you to take him back into your life. He felt apologetic for what he did. But that lingering memory was soon cut off by Grumpy Cat’s voice.

Knowing his tendencies to irate his neighbours, (or maybe just you exclusively) you ignored it and began serving late breakfast pancakes for your son. But you soon stopped when you heard a loud, hoarse bellow.

“GET OFF MY LAWN!”

You looked outside of your window to see a bunch of vans and the reporters standing outside Andy’s lawn. Niko ran up to you and carried him over your hip for the little one heard the scary yell too.

Andy’s car was parked haphazardly on the pavement. A pair or more of reporters were taking pictures of him and his vandalised garage door.

“Oh my god.”

You put down Niko and asked him to play with his toys. Yes, you hated Andrew but what you saw on his now tainted garage door made you want to retch. It was such a distasteful thing to do. It appeared as if a spray can paint was used to write whatever it was on the door:

MURDERER, YOU WILL ROT IN HELL TOO.

Andy crouched down on his knees, his hands covering his face and ruggedly running his hands through his hair, while he kneeled down in front of the vandalism.

The very reason he moved away from Newton was now on his garage door.

You wanted to go out and help him, but your ego wouldn’t let you. Why should you help a man who was nothing but mean to you all this while?

Luckily enough you saw Mr. Arthur and a couple of his old friends admonishing the press. They threatened that this community was filled with retired war veterans and that they would charge them for community trespassing and disrupting the lives of people who have lost a limb and more for this country.

Hearing that threat made the desperate amateur reporters leave from the vicinity as soon as possible.

Andy stood up and tried to process this whole situation, looking around for any sort of help, only to lay his eyes on the faint image you from your window.

You expected him to shout and rage and ask you to fuck off from staring at his pitiful state. But he didn’t. You would never forget those embarrassed sunken eyes, silently pleading for help.

He didn’t deserve this. You have no idea about his past or who he was to garner such attention, but this was just cruel. He soon averted from your gaze and went on to thank his fellow elderly friends and made his way inside home.

Later in the evening, you caught Andy scrubbing the ugly writings with cloth and soap water. After a while, he took a few steps behind and saw that they words were still there but faded.

“I had some grey paint for Nikolai’s nursery, but never got the chance to do it.”

Andy turned to that sweet voice of yours and hesitated in meeting your gaze. He was embarrassed, for you stood there, giving out an arm to help him again despite his foul behaviour. He saw little Nikolai standing behind you with his shabby brown hair that reminded him of Jacob, clutching onto your legs while he peaked at him. He didn’t understand what you mean by the whole nursery thing, but he stood up and finally, both of you took in each other’s gaze.

Andy’s eyes were even more sunken than he had when he arrived, his blue orbs sunk in a sea of red. He must have been crying. He saw you were missing your feisty eyes that you always sported. Maybe it’s because you despised him so much.

“It’s not the exact colour of your garage door but it can do the trick I suppose.”

The second you handed over the paint to him, you quickly turned around to head towards your home. But Andy didn’t want to push you further anymore by being a dick. He was ready to apologise.

“Hey please listen up! I really am s- “

“No no no,” your voice trembled; this habit of crying while you were angry was just exasperating you wondered, “I think its best we don’t hold conversation Mr. Barber. This will be probably my last interaction with you; what happened to you was horrid and ugly. You don’t deserve that. That much I know”

Andy was hesitant, embarrassed. “Mrs. Y/L/N- “

“Quit calling me a missus! I am not even fucking married anymore-” you said drawing quotes in the air, to be interrupted by a little tug at your coat. You realised that your kid was standing next to you. And you swore in front of him. Great parenting.

“Oh Niko,” you picked him up and peppered him with a few kisses, “Sorry for that language. Mommy won’t swear again okay. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah”, the kid nodded and buried his head into your neck and hugging you tightly.

"Let’s go, sweetie. I’m done with this man.”

As you went away the little boy who was wrapped around over your shoulder waved with his short hands to Andy. To Nikolai, Andy was the one who had the coolest car and made the best lemonade (which he had when he was made to wait for his mom). He never really understood the intensity of adults’ arguments. He was just a grateful child.

It was only then Andy realised he had to make it up to you by any means for he stood there alone feeling like a real douchebag with a paint can in his hands.

—

Part 2

—

Taglist (IS OPEN): @sinner-as-saint @captainscanadian, @kakakatey @bluevelvetsam

@mrsbarneswillseeyounow

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[unmaskedagain]

Raise yourselves up (We’re done)

Two prompts in one; let’s do this. I tweaked the ideas a bit though.

 It was Bustier who broke the news to Marinette and Chloe, and she did it once again the most inappropriate fashion, “-And so the class feels it would be best if both of you were excluded from the class trip at the end of the year.” She finished. The class was just about to let out and she told the two girls in front of them all.

There were mean snickers and smug looks from the other students. The ones who just avoid the girls’ gazes; Adrien, Juleka, and Rose. The three had decided to stay out of it and just side with the majority. Marinette and Chloe had become best friends after Lila had gotten her hooks into class the year before. She turned all of Marinette’s dearest friends to ex-friends and turned them into bullies. That was fine with Marinette. She was done with two-faced people; done with turn-coats, and cowards. Marinette didn’t need them. Or want them. Chloe at least had the guts to stand on her own two feet and for what she believed in. It was a new year and a new Marinette.

Neither blond nor bluenette blinked.

“That’s fine,” Marinette shrugged. “It will be a relief not to have to fundraise for the trip.”

Chloe smirked, “Ditto. A trip to New York City, completely unfunded by the school, is going to be a lot to pay for.”

“They’ll have plenty of time though,” Marinette hummed. “A little less than a year.” The two girls cast them cool looks, “Good luck!” They chimed as the bell rang.

No one understood why they didn’t react the way they thought. Alya had expected tears from Marinette. Rage from Chloe. Then apologies and promises to do better. In fact, they all did. But they didn’t get it. Instead, they were left wondering why the two girls laughed their way out of the classroom.

It would take them months to realize.

Both girls knew though. Chloe always managed to convince her parents to fund thirty percent of whatever grand trip the class took every year. Marinette managed to put together enough amazing fundraisers to raise sixty percent of the funds needed. Everyone else in class only ever managed to pull together the last ten percent. Barely.

The next day the brand new World Travelers’ Club announced their formation and invited anyone to join. A few members of the class perked up until they heard Marinette and Chloe were the presidents. Instead, the class bashed the club and joked it was the girls’ lame attempt at making friends.

That was the last they heard of the club.

To the rest of the students of Bustier’s class’s credit, they attempted right away to start fundraising plans. However, no one in the class knew just when they should start and no one had any unique ideas; they only had a car cash fundraiser, the usual bake sale, maybe a raffle. Standard stuff they were sure would work. After Marinette, the former class president, and resident bully as far as they were concerned, always started off with those. Never realizing that she only started out with them at the very beginning of the year, and never stopped there. Nor did they realize just how much planning went into each event.

 The class's first event was a car wash in November. It was a poor idea, as the weather had begun to take a turn for the worst and barely any cars showed up. They hosted it at the school figuring people would want to help out school children. Nino played music. And all the friends had a blast. But the kids made a total of 143 dollars a days’ worth of work. They vowed their next fundraiser would be better.

During the two months, Marinette and Chloe and the rest of the World Travelers’ club; Kagami, Claude, Aurore, Marc, Luka, Ondine, and a bunch of other students who always wanted to see the world fundraised like crazy. They decided that their class trip would be to six different places; Los Angeles, Star City, Central City, Metropolis, Gotham, and finally New York City. It would be a tour.  They would spend two weeks in each city, touring and visiting, before moving on to the next. Each city had its own highlights and hotels that need to be arranged and paid for. Marinette did the math; they would need to raise a little less than $35,000 to pay for everything. She made it an even $40,000 to be safe.

Marinette set up a go fund me page an hour later. It wouldn’t be easy but Marinette knew they could do it if they worked hard and fast. (She only half-heartedly glared at Chloe when two grand mysteriously was donated to the club’s go-fund-me five minutes after she announced it the class. She did glare when Jagged and Clara both gave five grand each to their favorite designer and faux-niece. But stopped when Kagami said her mother was also donating $3,000 to the club.)

A week after the club’s formation, they had their first fundraiser. A car wash. Marinette knew it was best to get that one done as soon as possible while the summer heat was still around. It went great. They had it at a local park. Chloe played music off her phone. During the event, they sold ice cream and other cold sweets. Ondine had the great idea of selling full water balloons to children so they could run around. Marc sold quick funny Caricatures of customers. They raised a total of $2752, minus the two hundred for expenses that Chloe and Mariette fronted themselves.

The second fundraiser Bustier’s class held was a bake sale. It was in the middle of December and more or less a last-minute idea. Alya spearheaded the event, remembering how much money they pulled in from the last bake sale. She had the smart idea of doing it during a pep rally. Only to remember at the last minute that Marinette usually supplied all the best goods freely given from the bakery. Or made them herself. It didn’t take a genius to know that Alya nor any of the class would be welcome in the bakery based on the cold looks Tom and Sabine had given Alya last time she went in with her mother. So Alya declared all the kids would make their own goods.

…Four people got food poisoning; one of them was Kim. Most of the baked goods were dry and hard and virtually unappealing. Rose’s sugar cookies sold well but mostly because they were one of the few things that tasted and looked good. The class made a total of 128 bucks. They were lucky they weren’t sued.

The World Travelers’ club’s second fundraiser was actually a pool party at Chloe’s. She had led the entire event. The weather was still hot. They got Luka and his new band My Shadow’s Wonderland to play; Kitty section had sadly broken up due to Lila’s schemes months before. The club members sold tickets to get in. They also sold food: hot dogs, hamburgers, veggie burgers, ice cream, and funnel cakes. Kagami sold Balloon which caused her friends to do double-takes. Because Kagami knew how to make balloon animals, what in the world? Marinette and Marc did face paint and temp tattoos. Nearly everyone from school showed up. Even Bustier’s class, though they hadn’t seemed to realize The World travelers’ club was hosting. They earned a total of $3101. Marinette had long since learned the greatest trick of the fundraiser; don’t let make it obvious it’s a fundraiser. Make it fun and people would come.

Their third fundraiser happened two weeks later just at the beginning of October. It was Claude’s idea and he called it; “Can you Arcade it?” No laughed but he thought it was hilarious. They had got permission to use the gym to set up a video Gamers’ paradise. He got this idea when he heard the old arcade had finally shut down after Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone had opted to retire. He got the couple to donate the old game machine for a day to help them out. Claude only had to babysit their pet Parakeet for two weeks while they were out of town. Old arcade games line the walls. New games with TV borrowed from the club members were set up with the new game systems. They sold food and anything they thought a gamer would want. Aurore somehow got the local Taco Bell to sponsor the event so ever twenty minutes or so they had a deal with commercial playing in the background. This fundraiser attracted most parents with younger children; though a good percent was just nostalgic dads who ended up playing the games as much as the kids. $1700 was earned; most of it in quarters.

 Their next fundraiser happened at the end of October and it was a haunted house; or rather a haunted school. They teamed up with a few other clubs to put the event together. They didn’t earn that much money; $300 after it was split between the clubs. However, all the kids had a ton of fun.

When November hit, and the weather turned cold, and everyone wanted everything pumpkin spice. (And Bustier’s class first fundraiser was about to happen) Marinette held did her bake sale. She with the help of the other members of the club made all the sweets; for once she didn’t have to get her parents to donate the baked goods. In additional, Marinette and the gang sold handmade little dolls of Ladybug and Chat Noir and the new miraculous heroes that had replaced the last team. The dolls were a big hit. Such a hit that Chloe got the idea of marketing them online for a much better price. The fundraiser earned about $600 bucks which weren’t bad.

Chloe and Marinette started selling the dolls for $10 bucks each plus shipping and handling. Chloe and Marinette made the dolls. The others took care of the shipping part. The

dolls only cost 2 bucks to make, as they were mostly yarn, so they profited 8. Chloe said that was how the business made money.

By the time December hit, they were had raised more half of their overall target goal.

During the fundraisers, each kid used their own influence via social media to get people to go their Go-Fund-me page. Luka and his band, all of who members of the club anyway, used Youtube and Instagram to promote their bands also asked fans to make a donation. Aurore used her Ladybug site Bugout to ask her fans. Ondine did swim training videos did the same. Marc who did drawing tutorial asked too. They didn’t get a lot from; a dollar here, three there, maybe a five if they were lucky but every bit count.

Their next fundraiser was a raffle in one of the empty unsure ballrooms of Chloe’s hotel, and it happened not long before Christmas break. This was spearheaded by Aurore. The strategy was sound; most people were still rushing to get presents. All they have to do was bid on the item they want. She got local businesses to donate. A fancy dinner from one restaurant, a bouquet of roses, expensive perfumes, a massage chair; a bunch of gift cards of various stores. Chloe got her dad to donate two items a spa day and a luxury Spa weekend. Marc offered art lessons. He also auctioned off some of his portraits. Ondine offered swim lessons. Aurore got offered a meet-and-greet with Ladybug, who even showed up to make an appearance. Kagami offered sword fighting lessons. Luka offers guitar lessons. His bandmate, Naomi, offered drum lessons. Another girl, Bridgette offered piano lessons. Marinette offered her usually big-ticket item; a custom design by MDC. The night was a hit. Once again, Marinette’s item was one of the highest bid items of the night. All in all, the kids brought in a total of $4728.

January came and Bustier’s class decided it was time for another fundraiser. Just as the World’s traveler’s club decided it was time for a break. Though they still sold the dolls; which had brought in $1800 since they had started selling them; Ladybug and her crew apparent had fans all over the world. This meant by the time February hit, they had just over $10,000 left to raise and five months to do it. They would leave at the beginning of June. They already paid for all of their plane tickets and paid for their hotel rooms. All their tours booked and paid for. All reservations made. And then reconfirmed by a rather stern Chloe. Passports were bought.

Bustier’s fundraiser idea was once again headed by Alya, the new class president after Lila decline the role as she would be far too busy. Alya decided a raffle would be perfect. The one they did the year before had been amazing. Again, Alya forgot that Marinette and Chloe handled nearly everything which was why it was such a big hit. Alya had to use the school gym.

“It’s not like I’d ask Chloe,” Alya huffed to her boyfriend. “I’m just glad I won’t have to deal with her or Marinette on our trip.”

“You said it, babe,” Nino leaned back in his desk. “No need for that kind of drama.”

The raffle was their most successful fundraiser so far much to Alya smug face when Marinette and Chloe walked into class on Monday.  All the kids in the class participated and offered their own talents for use; offering lessons or gift cards from their parents' businesses. Their biggest hit was a picture and an autograph from Adrien Agreste.

“We raised over a thousand dollars,” Alya crossed her arms. A satisfied look on her face. She had worked hard. They had all worked hard. “Beat that!”

Marinette and Chloe shared a look before they literally fell to the ground laughing. “I can’t!” Chloe gasped for air. “I can’t breathe!”

Marinette struggled to contain herself, “This! I!” She couldn’t even get out the words. She was laughing so hard.

They didn’t even bother to pay the glares they received any attention. It was just too funny.

For the rest of the week, it was the running joke between them. Every now and then, the other students in the class would “Beat that!” And laughter from the back of the room.

February came and the kids decided in anticipation for Valentine ’s Day. They would do a Date Auction. It was Ondine’s idea and it was a huge success. Surprising considering it, it was supposed to be simple and easy and something to get them back into the fundraiser's mood after a month's breath. Most of the kids now had a strong online following and become popular among the youth of Paris for their awesome parties. So when word spread that the World Travelers’ Club was doing a date auction; a lot of students from school showed up. A lot of students from other schools showed up. One girl traveled from England specifically for Luka.

Marinette, followed by Chloe, Then Luka, then Kagami, then Aurore was the highest auctioned date of the night. Claude and Felix were both a little put out. Marc didn’t mind. Mostly because of the best looking guy at the auction bid on him.

All in all, they raised $2100.

The next fundraiser was in March. The spring warm weather had hit in full. Flowers were blooming. The fundraiser was a carnival Luka planned. Everyone set up carnival booths and games and fun prizes. Live music. They had it in on the school soccer field. A lot of parents with their kids showed up, looking for a family-friendly event to enjoy. Total they raised $2421.

Marinette’s dolls brought in an additional $900. Then it was official they only needed 5,000 more.

Bustier’s class tried another fundraiser; a dance party in the school gymnasium; hosted by Nino. They sold tickets to get in, snacks and drinks. They put off filers everywhere and did everything they could to promote the event. They made $750 dollars. And were proud.

 In April, the World travelers’ club did another bake sale and another car wash and a ping pong tournament was a really big hit for some reason. By the end of April, they had met their goals. All loose ends tied up. All the tickets bought. Permissions slip signed.  Four teachers, who were more than excited to volunteer to spend near all-expense-paid vacation in the most popular cities in the world, would be chaperoning. They were done.

By the first Monday of May, Chloe and Marinette breathed a sigh a relief as the stress had finally left their shoulders. The only thing they had to worry about was packing, and they had a month to do it.

The two girls once again arrived to see the smug grins of the classmates' faces. Bustier’s class had been fundraisers like crazy so much so that even the teacher was looking over her students proudly.

“We’ve raised $5,829,” Lila announced. The Italian girl looked smug as she had done al the work. “Fundraising was hard but we did what we had to.”

“Way better then we did under the last class president,” Alya hissed.

Marinette and Chloe looked at each other again. It was Chloe who spoke, “So you’re not going to New York?”

The question caught everyone off guard.

“What?” Alya hissed. “Of course we’re going to New York!”

Marinette sighed, “No, WE” She pointed between her and Chloe, “And the World Traveler’s club is going to New York and a bunch of other places. We raised over $40,000.” Most of the students turned green.

“$40- $40,000,” Nino stuttered. “What? how?”

“We worked hard, like we always,” Chloe flipped her hair. “That was our goal since September. Its how much it would cost to pay for the entire trip. For every member and required chaperones to go. Why? What was your goal?”

It went quiet. Alya spoke next, “Goal?”

           Again, Chloe and Marinette

“Goal,” Marinette nodded. “The amount you needed to fund the entire trip to New York?”

“We didn’t have a goal,” Rose answered.

The two girls stared at them.

“What airline are you using?” Chloe asked. “How much do the tickets cost?”

No answer.

“What hotel are you staying at?”

No answer.

“Did you get your passports yet?”

Nothing.

“Have you made any reservations?” Marinette asked. “Any down payments?” No answered. Just pale faces.

           Chloe just shook her head, “Did you at least get approval from the school board to clear the trip?”

“We need them to approve it?” Kim asked. “Why it’s our trip?”

“Safety and legal concerns,” Marinette said slowly. “It takes weeks to get approved. Permissions slips have to be signed and turned in. Chaperones found.”

“Miss Bustier’s our chaperone,” Mylene said brightly, and the teacher nodded eagerly.

           Marinette fought the urge to scoff. Bustier couldn’t chaperone a ping pong tournament. “Fine but with a class this size, you need at least two more. Maybe three.”

           Chloe crossed her arms, “How were you getting to New York? What were your plans? Did you book any tours? What were you going to do in New York?”

           No one said a word.

           Marinette smirked, “Good on you, I guess. You must have some killer fundraising ideas with only a month and a half until summer break.” She sighed. “I couldn’t do it myself. Way too much stress. The World Traveler’s club was killing ourselves since September to get everything done.”

“September,” Rose gasped. “Really.” She deflated. “We didn’t start till November, and the car wash was pretty bad.” There were nods.

“Yep,” Chloe said. “I think we did about fifteen or more fundraisers. Little ones and big ones. How many did you guys do?”

           Nino frowned, “Five.”

“We worked really hard, though!” Alix slammed her fist on the desk. “Nothing worked.”

           Marinette and Chloe shared another look.

“Shame,” Marinette said as they glided to their seats.

“Last year, the class did so well,” Chloe smirked. “Wonder what changed?”

“Nothing!” Alya shouted. “We did the same thing we do every year. Bake Sale, car wash, Raffle, Dance Party; everything!

           There were nods.

“It’s not fair!”

“We didn’t do anything wrong.”

           There more shouts and complaints.

           Bustier calmed everyone down, “Now class, let’s not give up hope. Our trip last year was a success. And I know we can pull it off again. What did we do then that we aren’t doing now?”

           The class went silent as they thought up what they were doing wrong. Surprisingly, it was Juleka who answered, “Marinette did most of the organizing,” She whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear; one of the few brave things she did all year. “Her and Chloe come up with all the fundraiser ideas and they plan them out too. They always did; every year.”

“This year they didn’t,” Rose frowned.

           And just like that, it was like that, it was like a balloon burst inside the students.

“They always plan the best fundraisers,” Kim frowned. “And we always met our goals.”

           Lila glared. She didn’t think that when she convinced the class to kick the girls off the trip that they’d be getting rid of anyone who did any real work. However, the glare quickly turned into a frown with a few crocodile tears, “Then we didn’t they help us? We needed them obviously.”

           Before any of the other students could direct their anger to the girls at their betrayal, Nino shrugged, “Because we told them they couldn’t come with us, remember? So they didn’t help out. They told us they wouldn’t. Why should they? It wasn’t their trip.”

           Frustration and rage built inside Alya. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The class should’ve been headed to a glamorous trip to New York, with Marinette and Chloe left to suffer alone in Paris wishing they had been invited. Where was justice?

“I bet you're happy!” Alya growled at her ex-friend. “Our trip is ruined thanks to you.”

           Marinette smirked, “No. I didn’t do anything. I was and am in no way involved with your class trip. Just like you wanted.”

“You could’ve helped us!” Alix yelled.

“Why?” Chloe asked.

           Silence.

“You made it clear we couldn’t go to New York with you,” Chloe said. “Why would we help you? It’s not like we’re friends with you.”

           Angry eyes and red faces filled the classroom. No one wanted to admit that they got themselves into trouble.

           Alya had to be held back in her chair by Nino, “You could’ve warned me how hard being class president was. Or what we needed to do to go on the trip. But you didn’t care about us. You don’t think about us at all.”

           Marinette leaned back in her seat, an easy smile on her face, with frost in her eyes, “Sweetie, I haven’t thought any of you for months.”

           Before anyone could say anything else. Bustier decided to try to take control again, “Marinette, Chloe; there must be something you can do. Maybe the class can tag along on your trip.”

           Hopeful expressions overtook the students' faces.

           Both girls looked at the teacher like she was stupid.

“Even if that was possible,” Chloe narrowed her eyes. “And it’s not. We had everything booked for months, reservations made. How will they pay for it? We only raised enough for the World Travelers’ Club.”

           It was Adrien who answered, “Can’t you do something?” He said with hopeful eyes. “Our friends are really looking forward to it.”

“No.” Marinette snapped. “They are not my friends. And even if they were, it would take another 40 grand to get everyone in class on the trip. There’s no time to get that type of cash. Even if there was, it would still be weeks to get School board approval. The World Travelers’ leave on the first. There’s nothing to do.”

“We’re not risking our trip for yours,” Chloe and Marinette chimed together, looking very much like the Ice Queens the students had called them behind their backs.

           That was that. Alya and the other students would shoot glares at the two girls, and make mean comments for the next month; mostly about them being selfish. The girls didn’t pay them any mind. Lila tried to join the World Travelers’ club at the last minute, only to be unanimously told to come back in September. Damocles, at the urgency of Lila and Alya, tried to intervene and stop the trip the ground, it wouldn’t be safe. Boy, was he surprised when the school board called him into a meet to speak about his future employment and the rampant bullying and oversight that had been going on in the school.

           Bustier’s class ended up going to Disney World Paris for the weekend, before the end of May. And posted tons of videos, most of which had comments about getting away from bullies and the drama of the class.

           The World Travelers’ Club left on schedule on June 1st. They would return for two months.

           The pictures they posted was the talk of the school. Which was saying something since the school wasn’t even in session. The first pictures were of the grand hotels they stayed at, the amazing strange American food they ate. Carne Asada fries, yum!

           In Los Angelus, the club toured Warner Brothers studios and ran into the cast of the new Star Trek movies. They attended the world premiere of the Joss Weadon Superhero movie. They got all the classic tourist pictures of Los Angeles. Though Marinette and Chloe, when they had explored by themselves, ended up running into the Rock and had a picture of themselves hanging from his biceps as he posed.

           Their next stop was Star City. They toured the local museum, toured Queen Industries, met Oliver Queen himself. Then they even got to meet the Green Arrow.

           Alya nearly broke her phone when she saw Aurore and the superhero.

           After that, the Club went to Central city where they visited Star Labs.  It was Aurore’s idea. It was the most meta-filled city in the world; known for the most outrageous heroes and rogues in the world.

           It didn’t take long for the club to run into the flash, in this case, he was fighting against Captain Cold, Heatwave, and the rest of the rogues.

           The fight wasn’t favoring either side. But the class watched eagerly from where they stood on the sidewalk.

           They had to duck quickly when Captain cold was blasted into the wall next to them.

           Leonard Snart was surprised when a young girl helped him up. He looked and saw a bunch of kids standing there, torn between watching him and watching the fight.

“Are you okay, Mr. Cold?” She asked, with a heavy French accent, her blue eyes big with worry.

“…Fine, kid,” He answered. “Shouldn’t you lot being running off.”

           The bluenette and the blond girl next to her shared a look.

“Can we get a picture?” The Bluenette asked.

           Leonard Snart paused, “…Sure.” There was, in fact, a first time for everything.

           The kids cheered. And each one started scrambled with their phones to get their picture. It wasn’t long before Heatwave showed up to see what was wrong, only to be pulled in by a push blond to take pictures as well.

           That was when the flash Showed up but Aurore quickly pulled him into an interview. Slowly but surely, the rogues and the team flash found themselves entertaining and signing autographs for a bunch of French kids; answering all their questions and telling stories.

           Later when Aurore and the rest posted their pictures, and the interview with the Flash and his rogues, Alya did break her phone. As far as she was concerned life was fair.

           In metropolis, They met Superman, Supergirl, Krypton (the former superboy), and the new Superboy. Superman had heard from the other league members of the French class touring different cities and how great they were.

           They toured the Daily Planet and Aurore got one on one time with Lois Lane. They got to see LexCorp and had a tour given by Lex Luthor himself. Lex had heard about the class from Queen and Wells, the CEOs of Star Labs and Queen industries, and decided one-up his competition in any way he could

           Then the kids' wen to Gotham. The pictures from that trip made half the kids in Bustiers’ class cry. The best pictures were of Marinette sitting in the Batmobile; Batman looking stern next to her. The ones of the club with Bruce Wayne and his kids were pretty epic too.

           Finally, their lasts destination was New York City. And the kids saw everything. They did the entire tourist thing; The statue of liberty, times Square, New York Times. Everything. However, the highlight was the tour of Stark Tower/Industries; led by Tony Stark, with Pepper to manage him.  Because Tony Stark didn’t get one-upped by Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne. Then the kids took a surprise trip to the Avengers compound.

           Marinette and Chloe decided walking into the training room only to see Captain America, Thor, and Bucky Barnes working out with their shirts off was the best part of the entire trip.

           Pictures and videos were taken of each member of the club holding various Avenger weapons. Chloe refused to admit her hand trembled when she was given over Captain America’s shield.

           The funniest video was supposed to be each member of the World Travels’ club struggling to pick up Thor’s hammer. It was pretty funny. Until Marinette lift it like it weighed nothing. Mouths dropped. The Avengers were stunned. Who was this small bluenette worthy of Thor’s hammer?

Then Thor shouted that Marinette would come to Asgard with him.

           Then Tony had to tell Thor that he couldn’t kidnap kids.

           To which Thor said, “What about Peter? Where did he come from?”

“I’m his mentor,” Tony groaned.

           Thor nodded, “Then I shall be the girl’s mentor. The Captain shall train young Chloe. Natasha will have Kagami as they are suited for each other; mostly because they strike fear in hearts everyone. Pepper will get Aurore; as they were meant to rule. Hawkeye will get Claude. The Soldier of Winter will get young Luka. You shall have Peter. The rest will be divided among the rest of the avengers. There. All done.”

           A moment of silence, and then Tony yelled, “That’s not how this works.”

           It was all on video.

           It went viral in an hour.

           Marinette had to portal back to Paris to deal with several different Akumas several different times; most were just about jealousy.

           When the kids returned to Paris. They wasted no time relaying the stories of their adventures.

           When September came and school started. Marinette and Chloe once again walked into class together, with smiles on their faces, only to meet glum looks on the students' faces. They paid no mind as they headed back to their seats in the back.

           Before class could begin, Rose approached them, a hopeful smile on her face, “Marinette, Chloe; we were hoping you’d come with us on your next trip.” Her smile widened “And Marinette, maybe you’d like to be class president again.”

           None of the other students looked happy at the idea but all of them could admit that the World Travelers’ club had been amazing. And if they ever wanted another great trip, they had no choice but to deal with the Ice Queens.

           Marinette and Chloe shared a look and then shot the class cold smirks, “No!”

“We’ll be far too busy,” Chloe smiled, coolness in her tone. “We decided we can no longer want to go on any more class trips. With you.”

“The World Travelers’ club takes a lot of work,” Marinette added.

“Good Luck though,” The two girls chimed together. “You have plenty of time to fundraise though.”

“A little less than a year,” Chloe said. “Our club starts planning in about two weeks. We’ll start fundraising right after. We’re thinking about Japan. Luckily this trip won’t be as expensive as our last.”

“Good luck with your trip though,” Marinette leaned back in her seat. “Who knows? If your lucky, it’ll be as fun as your last one. We know you worked so hard. Earned over $5,000 right?”

“Beat that!” Chloe added.

Then both girls burst into laughter.

Marinette wiped her eyes, “Besides you don’t want us there on your trip.”

“Too much Drama, right?” Chloe offered.

           The bell rang. And the class’ resident ice queens sat in back with smiles on their faces and ice in their eyes.

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Rewind Chapter 8 - It Gets Worse

We're coming into the endgame, boys! Not much more of the story to go. As always, hope you enjoy!

(I wrote this in a fit of inspiration and it hasn't had much editing, so let me know if you see a typo!)

______________________________________________________________

It took Ford a moment to realize he wasn’t in his body anymore.

He blinked his eyes open, groaning, foliage swimming above him. He couldn’t feel the snow gathering on his skin. He pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair-

And noticed that his body was still on the ground.

Ford cursed and scrambled away, hands scrabbling through snow without disturbing it. “No, no, no-” If he was out here, then Bill-

His body opened one yellow, slitted eye and grinned.

Ford jumped to his feet and stabbed a finger at the demon in his body and tried to control his trembling. “Get out of my body, you- you- monster!”

“Come on Sixer, be creative! Get some new insults.” Bill rose with unnatural jerky motions, one eye still closed and the other a jaundiced yellow. He dusted snow off Ford’s jacket. “Clumsy much? I had a whole plan to lure you outside the barrier but thanks to you fleshbags, I don’t even need it. A waste of perfectly good gasoline, is what I say.” He blinked with one eye, then opened the other one again with a laugh. “Ah, there’s the depth perception! You beings are so primitive.”

Ford ran a spectral hand through his spectral hair, panic rising in his throat and making him want to hurl, if spirits could throw up. “What’s your plan now? Fiddleford will stop you from sabotaging the portal, you can’t hide those eyes!”

“True.” Bill pulled himself to his feet. Even after weeks – months – of piloting Ford’s body he still looked just a little wrong, movements jerky like that of a marionette’s.

“Then – then what do you want from me?”

“What makes you think I want you?”

What? Of course Bill wanted him, Ford was the only one he needed for his plan! Besides, there was no one out here except for Ford, and-

And-

Oh. Oh no.

“You stay away from my brother!” Ford tried to dive back into his body but he merely went straight through. Bill laughed and dusted himself off.

“Jeez, Sixer, paranoid much? I’m not gonna hurt the little brat. Not right now, anyway.” He grinned too wide. It made his face look stretched and wrong. Ford threw a wild punch that phased right through him. Bill let out a laugh and started walking deeper into the forest, whistling a merry tune.

Ford ran.

He didn’t know what else to do – what could he do? He was a specter, only able to watch the proceedings in the physical plane. So he pelted away from Bill’s cheerful whistling in search of his brother. He had to – to warn Stan of what was coming, to do something.

Not having a physical form did have its advantages. Ford didn’t bother to duck around trees and brambles that were in his way. It was only a matter of time before he caught up with his twin. Stan hadn’t gotten far, after all.

“Stanley!” Ford rushed towards the boy-sized lump huddled against a tree trunk. His hand plunged right through Stan’s shaking shoulder. “Oh, curse it – Stan, listen to me! You’re in danger. Bill has my body and he’s coming after you, you have to move!”

Stan mumbled something and for one giddy moment Ford thought that he’d been heard, until he listened closer and understood the words.

“Stupid. Watcha gonna do now? Y’made both of ‘em mad atcha. Ruined everythin’ again. Ugh, what’s wrong with you?” Stan ground the heels of his palms into his eyes and hiccupped. Ford tried to grab his brother’s hands, but he only managed to grasp air.

“Stan – Stan, listen, please – oh, you’ve got to have something I can use!” He looked around for something he could use as a puppet, an avatar, anything. His search came up empty. Damn it, what could he do-

“Stanl-ley!”

 “Oh Stan-ley!”

Stan jerked up the sing-song voice in the distance. His feet hurt and his head was throbbing from crying and he was lost in the snow but that didn’t matter, not when he could hear his brother’s voice calling him. His brother who didn’t sound mad anymore!

“F-Ford?” His voice wavered. Dang it, he had to stop acting like a kid! “What are ya doing out here…? Ya came after me?”

Ford did care! He’d come for him! And by the tone of his voice he didn’t seem mad, either. Stan almost tripped in his haste to get to his feet. He scrubbed at his face to get rid of the tear tracks before Ford could see how much of a baby he was being.

Heavy footsteps sounded through the bushes nearby. Why hadn’t Ford called out again? Maybe he was still mad? Stan had hit him, after all.

“I, I’m sorry I was stupid!” Stan searched frantically for his brother in the trees. “I promise I won’t touch your lab space anymore. I’ll be good!”

There! Stan bolted towards the familiar figure that had finally came into view. Ford laughed and knelt down to catch him, holding tight as Stan buried his face in his twin’s coat. Stan sniffled and tried to stop himself from crying again.

“You… you’re not mad at me?”

“Stanley.” Ford pulled back to smile at him reassuringly. “Of course I’m not mad. I’ve long since stopped expecting you to be anything but a dead weight.”

Stan stiffened. His brother’s arms suddenly felt a lot less warm and comforting. He forced a brittle smile. “…what?”

“You were just messing things up like you always do.” Ford continued conversationally. Stan tried to pull away but Ford’s grip was like iron, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises.

Stan had gotten plenty of bruises before, but never six-fingered ones. He tugged against the hold, chest heaving with panic. “Let go – Ford, lemme go-”

Ford’s grip loosened, letting Stan yank back to fast that he slipped and hit the ground. He scrambled away from his brother, heart racing, as Ford stood. The man loomed over him.

“You know, it’s actually pretty funny.” Ford said as Stan got his frozen feet beneath him and stumbled backwards. Ford’s eyes looked almost yellow in the morning light, and the worst thing was that Stan couldn’t even see any anger in them. Just pleasantness, evident in his eyes and his smile. “How you destroy everything you come across.”

“Ford-”

“Like my science project!” Now, finally, Ford’s face twisted in anger. “I know you remember it, Stanley. I know you know what happened. Tell me, did you plan it in advance? Or was it a spur-of-the-moment sabotage?”

“I didn’t mean to break it!” Stan all but screamed. He balled up his tiny fists and shook. “I didn’t – I didn’t, I wouldn’t! You’re a liar! I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t!”

“Oh, but you did.” Ford snarled. “You did and you would do it again, and do you know why? Because you’re a parasite, Stanley. You’re a leech, and that’s all you’ll ever be.”

A breeze ruffled Ford’s hair but nothing else, like an intangible fist passed through his face. Stan’s eyes were too full of tears to see it. He could feel Ford’s eyes burning into him, stripping away his defenses and angry words, leaving nothing but the thought that maybe, just maybe, Ford was right.

“J-Just leave me alone!” Stan sniffled and scrubbed at the endless tears pouring down his face while Ford watched with a sneer. “G-Go away and – and-”

“And what? Go back to my project? Let you wander around, making even more messes for me to clean up? No, you’re coming with me.”

Ford reached for Stan’s arm but he yanked it back, stumbling away. Ford’s lip curled and he lunged.

Stan turned on his heel and bolted.

His heart pounded in his ears and breaths rasping in his throat, burning with cold. Ford shouted angrily after him but this time Stan didn’t stop.

He didn’t stop running when Ford faded out of sight, or when he stopped being able to feel his feet, or when he was gasping for breath. He didn’t stop until his chest burned like it was going to explode. Stan staggered to a stop, catching a tree to stop himself falling into the snow. The cold hair burned against his skin.

Why didn’t he bring any warm clothes? His teeth were chattering in his head, he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. His feet were blocks of ice and he was so, so tired.

Stan wanted to go home.

But Stanley pines never got what he wanted. Behind him, a low growl sounded.

Stan’s head whipped around to catch sight of the grey-furred creatures stalking towards him – three of them, ears pressed tight to their skulls and hair bristling, white teeth and yellow eyes glistening. Stan’s scream caught in his throat and came out as a squeak.

“Nice – nice doggies?”

The lead wolf let out a snarl. Stan crouched down and fumbled through the snow for a weapon, eyes pinned to the wolves. He grabbed something solid only for the chunk of snow to crumble in his grip.

What were you supposed to do with wolves? Play dead? Or was that bears? Make yourself bigger to scare them away?

One of the wolves tensed to lunge, but before either it or Stan could make a move a piercing whistle sounded. Stan clapped his hands over his ears to block out the ringing noise. One of the wolves leaned back on its haunches.

“Oi! Get away from that kid, you big lumps.” There was a flash of yellow and then something was floating between Stan and the wolves, making the creatures cower and whine. The giant yellow – dorito? – waved its hand, sending the wolves scattering like ants. They scampered into the undergrowth and were gone in seconds.

 Stan’s savior leaned forward, as if checking they were truly gone. Stan tried to step towards the floating thing but hissed as pain lanced through his feet. The triangle swung around. It looked… kinda ridiculous. One huge eye took up most of the space on its form with a little glowing bowtie pinned underneath, a tall tophat hovering above its highest point. Its voice reverberated in his head.

“You must be freezing your toes off! Here kid, on the house.” The triangle summoned a cane to its thin black hand with a flourish. Stan’s feet tingled.

He yelped as cloth wrapped around his feet, and before he knew it he was standing in a pair of thick, warm fur boots. The triangle’s eye crinkled up happily and he floated over.

“…cool.” Stan’s voice came out as more of a breath, and the triangle let out a laugh. It didn’t have a mouth to move but the sound echoed inside Stan’s skull, overlayed like a dozen people were speaking at once. A dozen nasally people.

“Don’t mention it! How ya doin’, kid? My name’s Bill.”

“…Bill?” Stan echoed, wiping half-frozen tears from his stinging face. The same sounded familiar.

“Yeah, that’s my name. Got a problem with it?”

“It’s just… ‘Bill’ is such a normal name. I thought wizard triangles would have fancier names. Like… Xanthar. Or something.”

Bill waved his hand dismissively, shrinking a little bit so that he could look Stan in the eye without his dangling feet touching the ground. “That one’s taken, but we’re getting sidetracked here. I’m no wizard, kid! I’m a muse!”

“What’s a muse?”

Bill let out a huff. “It’s a – you know what? Just think of me like a genie.”

“Holy – a genie?” Stan’s mind raced and he counted off on his fingers. “Okay, my first wish is to have a million dollars. No, a billion dollars! And then-” Bill clapped a hand over his mouth before he could continue. The skin had a weird texture, smooth and glossy like plastic.

“It doesn’t work like that, Stanny boy! You gotta make a deal. More of an ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine’ kinda thing. How about it?”

Making deals… Stan’s eyes widened with recognition and he batted the creature’s hand away.

“Hey, you’re no genie! You’re that Bill demon Ford was talking about!” He stabbed a finger accusingly at the creature, who tilted sideways with a little giggle.

“You got that right! I am a demon. But demons don’t all have to be bad, you know.”

Stan frowned. “Bad is exactly what demons are! You’re trying to hurt Ford!”

“I’m not trying to hurt him!” The demon pulled a hand to what could be its chest, lashes fluttering. “Stanford and I were old friends you know, before he betrayed me. He had the nerve to call me useless, you know. I’m sure you know how that feels.”

“Wha-”

Bill zipped forward to sling an arm around Stan’s shoulders, making him jump. “But you see, I’m actually pretty powerful! Enough to grant wishes, even. Not that Ford cares – he’s selfish, Stan. He’ll use you up until he has what he wants and then he’ll kick you to the curb, all in the name of ‘science’. No one knows that better than you and me.” Bill snapped his fingers. “Oh, I have an idea! Why don’t you make a deal with me? I could make all your dreams come true if you just ask!”

The demon spun away and extended an arm.

“So kid, waddya say?” Stan goggled at the cartoonish black hand stretched out towards him. Bill grinned a salesman’s grin – or as close to one as a triangle with no mouth and only one facial feature could.

“Ford said you trick people.” Stan protested, and Bill shrugged.

“Eh, nothing against old six-fingers, it’s just business. Or it was. See, that was before I knew we could join forces and both get what we want! Picture this, Staneroni – you open the portal and let me into this dimension, I get to start the party, and then I make you a whole new family! I’ll even throw in a Ford 2.0.”

“Uh, what-”

“The brother you’ve always wanted! A Ford that appreciates you, parents that love you, maybe even a promising career in treasure hunting?” Bill swooped down to elbow Stan playfully. “I’m like a genie in a bottle, kid, all you gotta do is let me outta the lamp. Then it’s sunshine and rainbows, or – whatever you fleshbags like. So, have we got a deal or what?”

Stan frowned, rubbing his cold nose. The demon’s words were quick and constant, and rung in his ears, making him dizzy. “What do you want in return?”

“Oh, just a little favour.” Bill seemed to be checking his nails, despite not having nails. “You know that big old machine in your brother’s basement? That’s a portal. Ford decided he didn’t need me anymore so he locked me out of this dimension. All I need is for you to open it so I can come back home!”

“But you’re here right now.” Stan argued. Bill rolled his eye.

“Not really, kid. I can interact with objects and make myself somewhat corporeal, but I don’t have a physical body! I’m weak like this. But if the portal was open and I could come through I would have all my power back! Enough power to give you anything you want.”

Stan’s heart was pounding in his head, making it hard to think. The triangle leaned towards him.

“What do you think, shortstack? I could give you ultimate power. Wanna be president? Or king? Your family would have to love you then! I could give you a new brother, heck, even a whole galaxy all of your own! All you gotta do is open one teensy little portal.”

“STAN!”

[a-square-minus-one]

Honey 10

Thank you for those who have stuck to this progressing story. Here is the new chapter. You can find the whole story on AO3 and fanfic. 

I killed him.

Raven wakes up long before the team realizes she has. She can’t even register the itchy hospital bed sheets on top of her; her limbs are glued to the cot. Her chest expands as she breathes but she’d struggle less breathing underwater.

Malchior was a disgusting being. Intent to create chaos wherever he went. His only goal was to wreak havoc because he could and because no one could stop him. His life’s work was figuring out ways he could outdo his last destructive feat. His eyes only twinkled when he was asserting his dominance over something.

And she had killed him.

Or at least, separated his consciousness from its physical manifestation.

Or can you even separate that?

She made his limbs stop working.

His mouth would no longer form incantations.

Where would his thoughts go?

Would he be able to sort them or even hear them?

Or were they just whispers on another plane of existence?

Nausea makes Raven sit abruptly, the IV tugging painfully in her arm. She feels more than tastes the vomit fly out of her mouth. Chunks  of yellow bits propel out onto the floor next to her, right by Starfire’s purple boots. Starfire is quick to move Raven’s hair out of the way, despite the fact that doing so sinks her boots right into the undigested food. A few tears escape Raven’s eyes.

“Star…” she groans, making a feeble attempt to push Starfire out the way but the alien just shushes her and rubs her hand over Raven’s back. A green hand extends a plastic cup of water towards her.

“Small sips,” Gar reminds her. She takes the cup out of his hands and raises it to her lips. Raven stiffens when he moves closer, replacing Starfire’s hands with his own. She stares over the rim of the cup at his torso, feeling her eyebrows crinkling. He picks up the hair from her neck. She hears a snap and feels her hair moving left to right. Then he’s at a reasonable distance again. She places a hand on her warm, now bare, neck.

“You-” she clears her throat. “-you can tie a ponytail?”

“Can’t you?” Garfield asks, looking incredibly amused. She feels her face heat up as she places the water on the tray next to her and lays back on the cot. She looks to Star’s boots and then to her face.

“I’m so-”

“Shh I will be hearing none of that friend,” Starfire says, handing Raven a wipe. Raven wipes off one side of her lips. Her hand pauses when she gets to the other side.

“How many civilians?” Raven asks, her fingers trembling behind the tissue. Garfield immediately straightens out his relaxed shoulders. His jaw tightens. Starfire looks down to her feet. Raven turns to Cyborg.

“Two.”

Two fingers touch her lips as the contents of her stomach turn again. Her eyes well up as she swallows around the undigested food rising in her esophagus.

“Ages?” she asks in an almost imperceptible voice.

No one answers.

She clenches her fingers around the wipe and presses it to her forehead.

“Ages?” she pleads.

“54 and 65,” Cyborg says; his rage is like a hot iron in her side. Raven feels Starfire’s despair pelting her on the other side like an open waterfall. Garfield’s emotions are all sharp corners and metal bristles. She can’t even bear to approach the edges of it for fear that she’ll pop and everything will come pouring out of her. She sinks back into her cot trying to tighten her core under the pressure of all their emotions. She almost finds balance in the current until she senses something, like seaweed twisting on her toes when she’s swimming in the ocean.  

“You’re not telling me something,” she says, eyeing Garfield who hasn’t looked her way since tying up her hair. She almost didn’t want to ask considering how tenuous her hold on herself is.

“There was a six year old boy,” Nightwing says, entering the room with arms crossed over his chest. He leans against the doorframe of the med bay. Raven lets out a long breath. She spends a lot of her life thinking about how she breathes. Breathing is the first step to meditation. Right now she wonders what it would be like to be trapped at the end of a long exhale.

“He-”

“Is in ICU,” Nightwing finishes. She brings knees to her chest and sinks her head into them, gripping the fitted sheet on the cot. Her throat is one fire.

“We have to visit the family,” she says, looking at her team members. Everyone pauses.

“We did,” Garfield says, scratching the back of his neck the way he does when he’s pensive or nervous. Raven squints her eyes. She lays her legs flat on the cot.

“I have to visit the families,” she says, shifting to get up. Garfield quickly puts his hands on her shins and she almost kicks him off in surprise.

“You can’t,” Garfield says.

“Why not?”

“The public doesn’t love us right now,” Nightwing says, moving from his position at the door.

Then she feels it, pressing against her. Fire, all around her, filling the gaps between her fingertips, licking up the back of her knees. She almost gasps at the intensity of it.

“You’re angry,” she says, quickly looking up at Nightwing. A few strands of her hair have escaped the ponytail Garfield made for her. Starfire steps forward.

“We all are,” she says. Raven doesn’t look her way, keeping her eyes locked on the immobile Nightwing. This is a different anger. Nightwing knows she knows; their bond hasn’t faded in the years since she went into his mind.

“Where’s Malchior, Raven? Nightwing asks, his index finger twitching against his bicep. The fire around her stops all together. Something cool, fragile, and thin settles over them like a layer of frost on water. Then Raven makes the mistake of looking down. A fireball hits her in the chest like a cannon, she tumbles backwards on the cot.

“Damnit Raven!” Nightwing says. She looks up at his face, now red underneath his mask.

“Yo dude, chill out. She just woke up,” Garfield says. Nightwing whips towards him, his index finger inches away from Garfield’s chest. Raven is ashamed that she feels immediate relief at Garfield’s expense.

“How about instead of worrying about Raven you explain to me where the hell all the animosity for me came from?” Nightwing says, leaning much too far into Garfield’s personal bubble. Garfield leans back and tilts his head.

“Dude, clearly that wasn’t me.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not you when you transform into other animals?” Nightwing poses this as a question but the fact that each word is coming out like hisses between his clenched teeth makes it seem like he has already decided his answer.

“You know this isn’t just one of my other animal forms and could you check your tone?” Garfield asks. Raven feels his irritation like pricks from a cactus. She wiggles her fingers.

“Everytime the Beast has been present, I have been targeted,” Nightwing’s tone is even when he says this but punctuated in a manner that suggests he has ruminated on this and has already come to his own conclusions. His words sound rehearsed.

“That’s just not true and either way I’ve shown you for years that I’ve been able to control my powers as much as everyone else on the team, if not better.”

“You weren’t able to two days ago.”

“We don’t fight magical dragons everyday,” Garfield bites out and Nightwing swivels towards Raven again.

“And apparently we never will again!” Spit flies out of Nightwing’s mouth as he leans over the end of Raven’s cot. She sits up straight even though Nightwing’s words land heavy like a punch to her stomach.

“Almost sounds like you’re going to miss him,” Raven hisses back. Nightwing’s face is so red that Raven is sure it will explode off of his body.

“How can you be so desensitized to the loss of a life?”

“Jesus Nightwing relax!  It isn’t like she hunted this man down, which is more than I can say about you and Slade...every six months...like clockwork!”

“And yet he’s still alive.” The muscles on Nightwing’s neck are straining as he turns towards Garfield, bumping his chest a little. Any other man would have taken a step back and on any other occasion Garfield would too but right then, he doesn’t.

“Is that because you haven’t tried or because you’ve never gotten close enough,” Garfield says, jutting his own chest outwards so it bumps Nightwing’s.

“Much closer than you did when he turned Terra into stone.”

“Dude what in the actual fuck?” Garfield growls.

“That is quite enough!” Starfire yells, wedging herself between the pair. “You have both done the crossing of the line! Friend Raven is barely recovered!”

Neither man stands down, glaring at each other over Starfire’s shoulders. “Are you going to arrest me Richard?” Raven asks, chin tilted upwards. Nightwing turns away from Starfire and removes his hand from his utility belt.

“He will do no such thing-” Starfire starts.

“You’re not being fair,” he says. Raven tilts her chin higher and arches an eyebrow.

“If you are not going to arrest me then we have more important things to talk about right now than any morally ambiguous decisions I made that there is no way I can undo,” Raven mumbles. “Even if I really wanted to.”

Nightwing runs a hand through his hair then drops both of his hands on his hips. He’s looking her in the eyes. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to tell because of his mask but she knows he is. He’s trying to consolidate all his anger into a concentrated cube. She respects the effort. Garfield, who is hunched over like his spine is ready to break through the skin of his back, clearly does not.

“We have two of your brothers in custody. Lust and Gluttony. I will be handling interrogations. You can watch from another room. ”

Raven sucks in her bottom lip. She knows her brothers better than Nightwing but she’s on thin ice with him as is. She’d have to let him cool down a little before she can get anywhere near that room.

“If you’re going in alone, I need to heavily armor you.”

Nightwing shrugs stiffly. She nods.

Behind Nightwing, Garfield takes his exit; his anger is radiating off of him like an electric heater. Nightwing looks after him, his lips in a straight line but doesn’t try to stop him.

“How much of a dick was I?” Nightwing asks once Garfield has left the room.

“12/10 bro,” Cyborg says, rubbing his forehead. Nightwing cringes.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” Raven says, looking at Cyborg and then towards her IV. Cyborg looks hesitant at first but eventually sighs and does as he’s told.

...........................................................................

“This is very carnivalesque.” Raven says as she sits next to Garfield on the roof. Garfield raises an eyebrow at her “Usually you’re the one who comes to see me on the roof.”

“What?” Garfield asks.

“Nothing,” Raven says, looking down at her feet. She’s not as good as he is at this.

“You should be in the med bay for observations.”

“With all the healing it would be very hard to kill me,” she says. She feels a few fat drops of rain smack her cheek but Garfield doesn’t flinch so she stays put. Raven looks up at the thick clouds moving in the sky.

“Do you think you’ll die like the rest of us?” Garfield asks. Random. Raven hums. “I mean your father...sorry I know it’s a touchy subject-”

“No, go ahead,” Raven says, keeping her eyes on the sky. A warmth spreads in her chest like when she drinks hot tea. It’s been nice for her to see how delicate Garfield is with her boundaries in the last couple of years.

“Trigon is immortal. Does that make you immortal too?” he asks.

“I really hope not,” Raven mumbles immediately. “I’m not a god.”

Her mind immediately goes to Malchior’s lifeless body beneath her.

“Don’t lose any sleep over him,” Garfield says. Raven hums again. “Malchior. That’s who you’re thinking about, right?”

Raven looks away from the sky. Garfield’s lashes are dark and long. He’s green almost everywhere but around his pupils there is a rim of orange that she’s always been fascinated by.

“I took his life away,” she says, curling up her bare toes. “I-I’m afraid…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Garfield interrupts softly. She feels the warmths curl through her insides again. She has to break eye contact.

“I don’t know if I made the right choice. It kind of feels...heavy? If that makes sense.”

“It makes sense.”

It grows quiet again.

“Nightwing was more angry at me than he was at you,” she says. Silence.

A few drops of water land on her thighs. She’s getting a little cold now. She had only come out in the oversized t-shirt she was wearing in the med bay. She thinks it’s Cyborg’s. It fits her like a dress.

“I think he might be right.”

Raven looks up at him, ready to protest. The protests die on her lips when she makes eye contact.

“I keep banking on the fact that I can control the Beast but it kind of sucks. He’s pulling at me all the time.”

“He doesn’t like Nightwing?”

“...He doesn’t like Nightwing’s power over me. Doesn’t like that he’s the one who calls the shots. Which is the complete opposite of me. Usually Nightwing and Cyborg are the ones measuring their dicks to see who gets to be boss.”

Raven snorts.

“Would it be so bad to let him out every once and a while? What else could he want?” Raven asks. Garfield presses his lips together. And his silence stretches like cheese. Just when she thinks it's about the tear, it stretches some more. For much longer than it should. She can’t pinpoint exactly what changes but she is suddenly hyper aware of how long she’s been looking into his eyes. She isn’t about to let on that she noticed the shift though because that would mean that it actually happened.

But maybe she should move?

Or look down?

Why isn’t he saying anything?

Did he lean forward?

Breathe Raven.

She inhales sharply.

There is a flash of lighting in her peripheral vision.

He doesn’t break eye contact.

“Can I see the scar The Beast left?” he finally whispers, keeping eye contact. Oh, that’s what he was thinking about.

She can’t think straight. What did I think he was thinking about? She pulls up her shirt without a second thought, looking down with him...

Then screams internally when she remembers she isn’t wearing any pants.

She freezes. Thunder rumbles.

He doesn’t say anything. She wonders if she’d hear him anyway over the long  ‘AGHH!’ reverberating in her head.

She looks up at him; he hasn’t said anything about her lack of pants. Instead he’s staring intently at her side, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip wedged between his teeth.

Breathe. The team has changed in front of each other before. No big deal.

She wishes she can get a clear read on his emotions but she can barely get a hold on hers.

Then he reaches out his fingertips and slowly runs over the ridges of the three bumpy stripes on her side.

This time she actually shrieks out loud, dropping her shirt immediately. A few rocks on the shore explode into a million little fragments. He pulls his hands away like he just accidentally touched a stove.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry! Jesus, I don’t know why I did that,” he squeals immediately, running a hand through his hair roughly.

Aghhhhhh

“No! It’s... um...fine.Your fingers were just cold.”

The skin around her scars is burning.

Aghhhh .

He shuts his eyes so tightly that she can see little wrinkles at the edges of them. It looks like he wants to turn into a mosquito and fly away. She stays quiet. He places a hand over his eyes.

“Listen...I...I’m sorry about that. The touching,” his voice squeaks. He clears his throat. “But also giving you the scar in the first place.”

He reluctantly moves his hands away and looks at her again.

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt Nightwing. I don’t want to ever hurt you,” Garfield says, his skin changing from brown to green as his blush fades.

Agggghhhhh.

She hums.

Not the right response.

He sucks his lips into his mouth, face getting incredibly brown just as it was resuming its original shade.

“I-” he starts.

She looks at him.

He looks at her.

He flies away.

[bangtanreadingcorner]

rumor has it [2/2] • jung hoseok

words — 3K

part one

You took of your shoes, haphazardly kicking them into the shoe rack, pulling off your baby pink sweater as you padded to your room, humming with a gigantic grin on your face.

It wasn't five minutes since you arrived home when a knock sounded on your door. You threw your sweater on the bed, heading to the door.

"Yeah, I'm coming." You called, and the incessant knocking ceased. Probably Minji or Jamie that wants to borrow a book or some paper to print a project. You opened the door, frowning slight when you saw who was on the other side, "Hoseok? Is everything okay?"

"I'm not feeling very gentlemanly right now." He declared before stepping closer, grabbing you by the neck and kissing you until you were breathless, your socked covered toes curling.

"Good night." He said when he pulled away, then added on, "For real this time."

You laughed a little, feeling so ridiculously happy. You wondered if you could combust from it.

"Text me when you get home." You blurted, still catching your breath.

"Promise." He nodded, licking his lips. You leaned forward to peck them one last time. For now.

You laughed again, practically vibrating with giddiness as you closed the door for a second and final time.

***

You liked to think that maybe you would have a boyfriend, in the not so distant future, after that. It's not like you go around kissing any guy you go out on a date with. And yeah, there's been some horrible dates you went on that never went anywhere, but that's a story for another day.

Right now you were more interested in listening to what Hoseok had to say. The two of you were sitting in the Quad, eating lunch together. You warned your friends to pretty please stay away for now because this thing between you and Hoseok was still new and fragile. And maybe you want him to yourself for a little longer but that was none of their business.

"So, the Dance Department is holding its yearly talent show." Hoseok said after swallowing a bit of his chicken and mayo sandwich.

"I heard," You nodded, taking a sip of orange juice. "The whole campus is talking about it."

"I entered and I was wondering if you'd come?" He asked, looking at you nervously. "For me. For, you know, moral support."

"Absolutely." You nodded eagerly, belly fluttering. You liked the fact that Hoseok had invited you to the competition, especially knowing how much dance means to him. "Can I bring my friends?"

"Sure," Hoseok grinned excitedly. "The more, the merrier."

In the three months leading up to the competition, you would scarcely see him during the week with how much he practices but you make up for it by spending most of the weekend together.

You get to know much about Hoseok in the three months that pass. Little things, like how he swears when he gets startled, all of his phobias (spiders, snakes and heights you got, but fear of water was a little bit of a strange one for you, because you're in love with water but it's not like you own a swimming pool so it wouldn't be a problem), his likes (cuddling while watching a movie) and dislikes (watching scary movies at night - or just in general), habits (biting his lip when he concentrates) and hobbies (skateboarding).

Finally, the day of the competition arrived. It was pretty much a full day event, according to Hoseok, because there was the entrance round, which took the most time, quarter finals, semi finals and finals.

You were walking to the hall where the competition would be held with your two best friends, Minji and Jamie. Your arms were linked through each other's. "Thank you guys so much for coming."

"Of course. Where else would we be?" Jamie smiled gently at you.

Minji nodded, then said, "And we've been dying to meet the guy who has finally melted your heart."

"Just behave yourselves." You told them, pointing a finger in warning.

"Who, us?" Minji gasped.

"We're angels." Jamie smirked.

You snorted, looking around for Hoseok. He said that you would all meet out front. "Sure. Whatever makes you sleep at night."

"Hey, Y/N!" Hoseok's voice caught your ears and you turn in the direction you heard it. "Over here!"

A grin breaks out on your face when you see him, a few guys standing with him, and it takes all your will power not to run to him. You didn't even look at anyone else as you walked to him, stopping only when you reached Hoseok. "Hey."

You wanted to kiss him but didn't. PDA isn't something you've discussed yet, and you definitely don't want to be pushed away or make Hoseok uncomfortable.

"Wow, you look . . ." Hoseok breathed, eyes widening when he did a full body sweep of you. You wore a dress for the first time since he's met you, paired with some matching wedges and a little bit of make-up. "Beautiful."

"Thank you." You grinned, feeling your cheeks flush. "You look very handsome." And he did - a low cut white shirt that put his collarbones and little bit of his chest on display, tucked into black, ripped skinny jeans and a pair of white Converse sneakers.

A throat cleared from somewhere around you and both of you snapped out of the little bubble that unknowingly formed around you, the pair of you ignoring the world.

"Right, I should probably introduce you." Hoseok cleared his throat, tossing a glare over his shoulder when one of his friends snickered. "Guys, this is Y/N." He looked at his friends, gesturing at you. Then looked at back at you. "Don't worry if you can't remember all their names today. There's six of them. Okay, this is Namjoon, the best friend I told you about. That is Yoongi-hyung and his best friend Seokjin-hyung. Next to them is Taehyungie and his best friend Jiminie and next to the shorty is his boyfriend Jeongguk."

"I'm not short." Jimin huffed, a hand wrapped around Jeongguk's bicep.

"Of course not, hyung," Jeongguk consoled, patting his head. Then he smirked, "Just vertically challenged."

"Yah, you gigantic brat!" Jimin snarled as he used the hand on Jeongguk's bicep to try and hit him in the back of his head. Clearly this has happened before because Jeongguk expertly ducked away and grabbed Jimin's hand, spinning Jimin until his back was pressed against Jeongguk's chest. Jeongguk wrapped his hands around him a struggling Jimin, smiling as he pressed a kiss against his hair.

"Don't worry about them, they're always like that." Taehyung said with a grin when he noticed the way you looked at them, wide eyed.

"Good to know." You laughed. "Well, it's so nice to meet all of you." You stepped next to Minji and Jamie, who were eyeing all of Hoseok's friends with interest. "And these are my two best friends, Minji and Jamie."

Jamie stepped forward, peering at Hoseok, "It's so nice to meet Y/N's new beau. She hasn't had one since high school."

"Would you shut up?" You hissed, cheeks flaming, as you pulled her back to your side.

"Aww, look. She's blushing. I've never seen her blushing. Not even when looking at pictures of Idols' abs." Minji cooed, laughter and snickering following.

"You two are dead to me." You said with a glare as you went to stand next to Hoseok.

"Hobi-hyung was so excited when he told us you were coming." Jeongguk let know when everyone calmed down.

"I'm happy he asked me, even if it is moral support." You smiled happily, smile widening when Hoseok's hand slipped into yours. Now, hand holding was something you two did a lot.

"Hah!" Seokjin scoffed. "Moral support, my ass. Hoseok doesn't need moral support, he's won this competition since his first year." You could feel your eyes widening, jaw dropping open.

"The other's don't stand a chance." Jimin smirked.

"We're not trying to be mean or anything, but our Hobi-hyung is the best." Taehyung grinned.

"Hey, how come you never told me how good you are?" You huffed, nudging Hoseok's elbow with yours.

"I thought if I told you, you wouldn't come." He admitted, a slight pout on his lips.

"Oh my God, you idiot!" You lightly slapped him on the arm with your free hands. "I would have come either way. I've always wanted to see you dance."

"I'll win for you tonight." Hoseok promised, ignoring the wolf whistles and whipping sounds that came from the direction of your friends after his words.

You just smiled fondly at him, "That's sweet, but you don't have too."

"I want too." He said quietly. "I've never danced for someone other than my friends and family before."

"Okay, fine. I'll cheer for you."

(Hoseok does end up winning first place. And you two end up having a heated make out session in his dressing room afterwards.)

***

A few weeks after the competition, your mom asked you to go and pick up your sister. You don't warn Hoseok beforehand, wanting to surprise him. You hoped it wasn't a bad surprise. This would be the first time you picked up your sister again after the first time you met. You smiled to yourself, thinking how so much has happened since then.

You walked into the studio, making a beeline for Hoseok.

"Hello again, Hoseok-ssi." You greeted with a serious voice. He spun upto you, eyes wide, and you aimed a lazy grin at him, eyes full of mirth.

"Hello Y/N-ssi." His voice was professional but there was an amused twinkle in his eyes as he smiled at you. "It's good to see you again."

"You too." Was all you we able to get out before your sister joyously shouted your name and barreled into your legs. You laughed, crouching down to give her a proper hug. "Hey squirt. How was class?"

"It was sooooo good. Hobi-oppa is a really really good teacher and fun too. We learnt lots of things. Like this." Your sister ended her own ramble as she demonstrated a move that she learnt in class today, looking at Hoseok when she finished moving, silently asking if she did it right. She positively beamed when he nodded, giving her a thumbs up.

"That's awesome." You ruffled her hair. "Why don't you go get your bag before mom gets home before us and reports us missing?" Your sister nods vigorously, before running away. You turn to Hoseok, heart swelling with affection as you immediately catch his eye. "How's she doing?"

"Good," He said, eyes twinkling. "And I'm not just saying that because she has a gorgeous sister that I like very much."

"Ohhh, keep going." You sing-songed with a grin, crossing your arms over your chest, enjoying the way his cheeks flushed. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Hoseok tilts an eyebrow at you, "Isn't it usually the other way around?"

"Yeah, but in this case flattery will get you anywhere." You smirked, enjoying the way his flush deepend from you teasing.

Your little sister appeared by your side, looking between the two of you. Then she announced, "Hobi-oppa, my sister is single, if you're interested."

Hoseok looked away and pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing.

You barely resisted the urge to yank her by the ears as you hissed to her, "Your sister is not single, stop trying to find her a boyfriend. I'm capable of getting one myself."

She gasped, looking at you with wide eyes. "I'm telling mom."

"Mom knows, tattletale." You deadpanned, much to her disappointment. It's true, she knows about you and Hoseok. You sister doesn't. You all decided to keep quiet around the dance school so the other children and their parents can't accuse Hoseok of playing favourites because he's dating you. You also decided not to tell your sister, because you didn't want her to accidentally let it slip out.

The three of you bid your goodbyes, and you and your sister left. You didn't get very far when your phone buzzed.

Hoseok : Not single, huh?

You laugh, practically seeing the happy grin on his face. You two made your relationship official not long after the dance competition and he loves it when you tell people that you're a taken girl. You type a reply with one hand as the other one held onto your sister's.

You: Nope, there's this really great guy that I'm dating.

Hoseok: Luckily guy.

You: I'd like to think we're both lucky.

Hoseok: Sounds fair.

Hoseok: Btw, your ass looked really good in those jeans.

You: Hehe, thanks.

You: You were were rocking the whole soft boyfriend look, btw

"Are you texting your boyfriend?" Your sister asks as she rises on her tiptoes, obviously trying to see on the screen. You make sure to keep it away from her curious eyes.

You smile down at her, "Yeah."

Hoseok: Soft boyfriend look?

"Do you love him?" She asked and you avoided answering her question to answer Hoseok's text, wondering about it. Do you love him?

You: Big t-shirt, sweatpants and barefoot = soft boyfriend look

You: For me, anyway

You: Idk about other people.

The answer came so easily to you. You smiled down at her as you wait for Hoseok to reply. "I think so, yeah."

Hoseok: Ah, gotcha

Hoseok: We still on for tomorrow???

You grinned, butterflies fluttering wildly. Tomorrow evening was Jeongguk's 18th birthday party and you were invited as Hoseok's girlfriend. Apparently it was the formal one - with Jeongguk's family - and then the next evening would be the informal one - with his school friends and Jimin's friends and their friends. You were a little nervous, because only Jeongguk's closest friends was invited to the formal party and while each one could bring a plus one, not everyone did.

At least, that's what Namjoon told you when you ran into him at a coffee shop a few days ago and told him that you'd see him at Jeongguk's party. So, it was kind of a big deal and you were kind of freaking out but mostly, you were excited.

You: Yep, I'll see you there.;)))

The next day, you decided on your nicest clothes, which was the second and last dress you own and a pair pumps.

"You look so cute, I want to eat you." Hoseok had blurted when you opened your dorm room. You raised a brow at him and smiled when he flushed and started back pedalling. "I, uh, um, what I meant to say was-"

"I think you're cute when you scrunch your nose when you don't like something." You cut him off, deciding to have mercy. "Come on in, we still have an hour until we need to go."

He smiled gratefully and you stepped closer to kiss him.

"About what I said just now Hoseok started when you pulled apart, closing the door behind himself.

"There is nothing to explain." You assured him with a gentle smile, heading to your couch.

"No, I need too. I want to be honest with you." He said firmly, but you could tell he was nervous. His shoulders was tensed and it make you feel unsteady. You didn't like that he was distressed. "It's just- I just, I've been thinking about it."

"What, eating me?" You joked, trying to make him relax a little. You looked at him over your shoulder with a teasing smirk, "Sorry, but I'm not into cannibalism."

"Y/N. I'm being serious." His tone made you sober up, turning to him. Hoseok was looking at you, biting his lip, but there was a determined set to his jaw.

"Oh." You felt yourself getting nervous out of nowhere. "Okay. Thinking about what?" You had a good idea what he was thinking about, just not if it was positively or negatively.

Hoseok cleared his throat, looking like he was searching for words before just bracing himself and saying it. "Having sex with you." So, you were right. You will weren't sure if he wanted to tell you that he wants to or not. "I want too." He added on barely a second later for clarification.

Your heart started racing. You blushed a bright red all over - chest, neck, ears, cheeks. You gaped at Hoseok and he waited silently, looking more and more nervous and unsure as each second passed.

You gathered your thoughts and told him the truth.

"Me too." You admitted softly, shyly. "I didn't want to bring it up or push for more during one of our more heated makeout sessions because I wasn't sure what you thought and while I am thinking about it, I'm just not . . ."

Hoseok breath a sigh of relief, so quiet, you almost didn't heard it it. "Not ready yet?"

"Yeah." You nodded. He took his hands in yours, tangling your fingers together.

"I feel the same. Like, in the heat of the moment I want to find out just how flexible you are, but then when I calm down its like something tells me it's not time yet. And that's okay. There's no need to rush. We'll get there." Hoseok said, squeezing your hands, both in comfort and promise.

"Yeah, we will." You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You kiss him deeply, trying to show him everything you were feeling but couldn't define and put into words yet.

Months later, when both of you are completely ready, it's not just right but it's perfect in that fairytale kind of way you always thought was bullshit but secretly hoped for anyways. Afterwards, when you lay on his chest, looking up at his sleeping face, you breathe those three special words, before falling asleep to the soothing sound of Hoseok's heartbeat.

[xo-phile]

Tides (M!Mer x Fem!Reader) p1

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Excerpt: “Listen,” he started, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure there are plenty of people who have lived next to a body of water their entire lives and are still afraid of it.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid of the water if it stopped producing such obnoxious mermen.”

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: thalassaphobia, emetophobia (just in case, no actual vomiting), situational anxiety, almost drowning

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoy! If you did, please harass me to finish part 2!

Part 2

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Morning light filtered through your windows, casting shadows of tree branches onto the walls of your art studio. The room was quiet except for the soft scratching of your charcoal against the rough paper of your giant sketchbook and Teddy, your massive Newfoundland water dog, snoring by your feet. You stopped your sketching to rifle through a stack of photographs that you used for reference of the old church in the woods.

The photographs showed a lone brick building, church bell and all, that would have been unobtrusive in design if it weren’t for the fact that it was the only building in the middle of Saggitaria Woods for miles. The chapel’s warm brick exterior and defined architecture stood in stark contrast the surrounding lush greenery. You couldn’t forget the way the trees seem to slowly close in on the stone intruder, while the building stood stoically, seeming to welcome nature’s embrace.

When you looked back up at your sketch, the lines you scratched onto the page didn’t evoke the same balanced contrast. It just looked like trees and a building with a cross. You sighed exasperatedly and threw down your stack of photographs with a hard thump. Teddy awoke with a startle at the sound, and let out a disgruntled huff, looking up at you with disdain.

“Sorry, buddy,” you laughed crouching down to ruffle his massive brown head. The Newfie lolled his gigantic pink tongue in a doggy smile and leaned into your hands in forgiveness. Outside, the sound of a boat’s motor approached and cut off. Teddy jumped up to gallop out the door, with you snatching a cardigan off your chair to follow behind. From your porch, you saw Romero and Willow, old childhood friends, waving excitedly on the dock. Squealing in delight, you broke out into a run down the path from your home to the wooden lake-front dock.

“My two favorite gremlins!” you cried excitedly throwing yourself into Willow’s arms.

The sound of two girls screeching in delight made Teddy start to bark excitedly. Romero,  a six-foot-nine lycanthrope, picked the both of you up for a massive bear hug, swinging you two around like rag-dolls. Seeing your childhood best friends’ faces for the first time since their wedding made you realize how long you had been cooped up with just Teddy for company.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked, “I thought you guys were gonna move into the new house after you got back from your honeymoon.”

“Well we were, but Dresden asked us to check on you,” Romero said, bent down giving Teddy what looked like the world’s best tummy rub. You looked at Willow in confusion and she rolled her eyes.

“He said he hadn’t seen you take the ferry in like a month,” she said accusingly, arms crossed over her chest, “We wanted to make sure that Teddy didn’t make a snack out of you.” At the mention of his name and the word “snack”, Teddy tilted his head comically. It was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Well you can tell Dresden that I’m up to eyeballs in projects right now and that he doesn’t need to worry.” Willow and Romero gave each other a look before turning back to you.

“How about you tell him yourself? We’re meeting him at the buoy, tomorrow. Think of it as a welcome back party for us,” Willow offered.

The thought of being out in the middle of the lake made your stomach dropped. Willow must have seen the look in your eyes and grabbed your hands to hold them comfortingly.

“It’ll be completely safe, I promise. We won’t go swimming or anything. We’ll just hang out like old times,” she assured. You gave an awkward smile.

You knew your friends were just looking out for you.  They constantly ribbed you for your workaholic nature. If you had a dime for all the times they joked about you painting nature more than being in it, you probably wouldn’t have to paint again for the rest of your life.

“I don’t know guys… The gallery opening is coming up soon and I’m nowhere near where I need to be in the collection to be goofing off,” you tried with a sheepish shrug. You were lucky enough that your online presence grabbed the attention of a curator willing to display a series of never before seen works. The idea of blowing this amazing opportunity, whispered menacingly in the back of your head.

Romero looked at you for a moment and then smirked.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Micah was gonna show us his new boat…” he mentioned casually.

At the mention of Micah, you felt your ears warm at the tips. Willow side-eyed your reaction and added,“He’s been asking about you, you know…”

“Micah?“ you asked skeptically, "What does his girlfriend have to say about that?”

Willow rolled her eyes in response.

“Who cares about her? Micah said she’s not coming. Homies only outing,” she responded waggling her eyebrows.

These little shits, you thought. She knew that was the final nail in the coffin so with a groan, you acquiesced and smiled in defeat. Willow and Romero cheered in victory while Teddy ran around in circles excitedly.

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

With your eyes closed, all you could hear was the sound of Romero’s boat, Lobo del Lago, cutting through the waters of Lake Obsidian. The wind whipped past your face and through your hair as the Lobo navigated through rogue waves. When you finally opened your eyes, the sierra mountains that surrounded Lake Obsidian were in clear view. Surrounding redwood forests made the scenery look like something right out of an old postcard you’d find at a gift shop.

Lake Obsidian stretched out for miles around the boat, the water glittering in the afternoon sun. For most people, being out on a boat with friends in gorgeous weather would have made for a perfect day. Unfortunately for you, being this far out on the lake and not knowing how deep below Lake Obsidian reached, made your stomach flutter. Instead, you focused on the horizon of the lake and the surrounding forests passing by in the distance to distract yourself. Next to you was Teddy, who, unlike yourself, stuck his head over the side of the boat, mouth open wide, his tongue and ears flapping in the wind.

At least one of us is enjoying themselves.

"You doing okay, sweets?” Willow asked, sitting down next to you. Her hazel-blonde hair was wind-swept perfection and she looked like an old movie star in her giant sunglasses and strapless one-piece. You, on the other hand, opted for jean shorts and comfortable flannel, not exactly fit for swimming or water sports. You saw in the reflection of Willow’s sunglasses your hair was sticking up in all different directions from the wind and your complexion was looking green. She handed you a bottle of ginger ale and you took it gratefully.

“So far, so good. As long as I don’t think about the bottomless infinity of this godforsaken lake, I think I’ll make it,” you replied, trying to suppress a grimace.

“Well, you’ll have a pretty good distraction soon enough,” she chuckled, giving you a knowing look.

When you felt Lobo start to slow, you looked up to see a cruiser, Siren, approaching. Its pilot, Micah, a sandy blonde Minotaur, was at the helm, waving excitedly. The Siren circled some laps around Lobo causing the breaking waves to rock the boat. The motion caused you to clutch at the railing, knuckles turning white. Teddy was barking madly next you at motion of the boat, excited to see a familiar face.

“Hey Micah, stop showing off!” Romero yelled from the helm as the Siren finally slowed to a stop.

“Sorry, Rome,” the hulking Minotaur laughed from a distance, “Just made some upgrades and she drives like a dream!”

When both boats finally anchored, you willed your face to not look completely sea-sick. Micah hopped over to Lobo as gracefully as a 285-lb Minotaur could and went to give hugs to Willow and Romero. When he came to you, he lifted your whole body effortlessly, into a warm embrace.

“Hey stranger,” Micah smiled infectiously. You couldn’t help but grin back despite the anxiety in your stomach rising even further. You weren’t sure if it was seeing your childhood crush or the fact the you were five feet in the air, rocking in a boat. When he put you down, you took several sips of ginger ale. Teddy started hopping on his hind legs, pawing at Micah, wanting to be carried like you were. Micah just laughed and lifted the 145-lb dog into a hug like he weighed nothing at all.

“I was starting to get worried!” Micah said as he smiled down at you. His large figure was so broad and tall, he blocked the bright light of the afternoon sun from your eyes. He set Teddy down for him to run off somewhere to get his toy.

“You know how it is,” you tried sheepishly, “the work gets away from me…”

“Well it’s good to take a break once and a while,” he said with a big furry palm warm on your shoulder, “It’s nice to have the whole gang together again.”

“Not the whole gang. Looks like somebody wants to show up fashionably late,” Romero said working on unloading paddle boards.

“No worries, let’s just get out on the water while we wait.” Micah started to take off his shirt to reveal a thick, sturdy torso and giant, muscular shoulders. You pretended to look for Teddy instead of openly staring.

“You gonna come out with us? My board can probably hold both of us…” Micah offered with a smile.

“Uuuuh…” you started to say before Willow cut you off.

“Sorry Mic! She’s gotta help me take some pictures for Instagram first,” Willow lied, hooking her arm through yours. Micah’s face fell for a moment.

“Maybe later then?”

“I actually forgot my bathing suit today,” you tried without looking at his eyes. Micah gave you a consoling smile and a shrug.

“No worries. Maybe another time, soon. Gotta make sure you still remember those lessons,” he said with a wink.

Micah had given you paddle boarding lessons in shallower waters before so there was no reason for him to think you couldn’t be out on the water. The words warmed something in your chest, but you felt bad for lying to your friend.

“Thanks, Willow, seriously,” you confessed gratefully to your friend after the boys were out on their paddle boards. You watched Micah’s powerful back flex as he pulled himself through the rocking waves on his board. You wondered what it would feel like under your hands.

“No worries, sweet-cheeks. I was serious about those Insta pics though,” she laughed. The two of you took turns taking pictures in the brilliant, sunny day. The scenery was no doubt, gorgeous, perfect for would-be social media influencers and artists, like yourself. Today, however, you promised your friends you wouldn’t bring work with you, so you ended up lounging on the platform on the back of Lobo, throwing a tennis ball out into the water so Teddy could swim after it. You were on something solid and the waters were somewhat calm, so you were actually able to enjoy yourself.

You were about the throw the ball again, when Teddy started barking at a form in the water. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a long fishtail shimmer as it swam by. It raced over to where the boys were paddle boarding and you saw Romero’s board shake and flip with him on it. When Romero finally surfaced with his hair plastered to his face, Dresden’s head popped up out of the water howling with laughter.

“Dres, you little shit, I was about to win,” Romero deadpanned.

Micah ended up laughing so hard, he fell off his own board with a gigantic splash. The merman and the Minotaur high-fived, still howling with laughter.

“It’s okay, Dresden,” Willow yelled from the boat, “He desperately needed a bath!”

“Sorry Rome, I’ll make it up to you I promise,” Dresden sniggered. He ducked his head underwater and resurfaced again right in front of you.

“There’s our little recluse! I was beginning to think that monster you kept as a pet ate you,” he said pulling his body halfway out of the water to reveal lean, muscular shoulders and strong arms, toned by years of deep-water swimming. He shook the water out of his dark curly hair like a dog, and sprayed it all over you.

“As always, it’s such a pleasure to see you, too, Dresden,” you greeted sarcastically.

“Oh, you wound me. Be nice, or I might change my mind about your present,” he countered, hazel eyes glittering.

“Presents? Oh, well now you’re a man after my own heart,” you smiled, reaching out your palm with a gimme motion. He pulled a satchel bag that was hung across his broad shoulders and threw them onto the platform next to you. You reached in the to pull out a a flat rock the size of a dinner plate. When you flipped it over, you found a perfectly preserved ammonite, embedded into the stone. The white shell shifted hues in the light as you moved it, turning blue, green, and then orange, opalised by time.

“Dres, this is beautiful…” you gasped, as you ran your fingers over the ridges of the fossil.

“Eh, it’s not big deal,” he shrugged nonchalantly, though his complexion and fins framing his face seemed to warm at your praise.

“What!? I want something pretty too!” Willow came out from behind you to start rifling through the bag herself. She pulled out a giant abalone shell, the mother-of-pearl iridescence shining rainbows across its surface.

“Dibs!” Willow declared before running to hide her newly acquired treasure. You and Dresden looked at each other for a moment, and broke out into chuckles. You looked up to admire how the scales framing his eyes shimmered copper and green as he laughed.

“Guess, Willow likes hers,” you snickered, “Must have taken some effort to find this stuff.”

Dresden watched your hands as you traced the ridges of the ancient fossil.

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal,” he said and looked up at you through long, dark lashes, “Consider it a reward for coming out today. Figured if you got some positive reinforcement, you’d want to come out with us more often.”

You sighed and looked up at your friend with annoyance. Dresden put his hands up in apologetically, knowing he touched a nerve.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you already know how it is for me,” you retorted trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. You looked over to where Romero and Micah doing backflips off the Siren, Micah’s laughter ringing through the air. As you sat curled on the edge of the platform, you felt a pull in your chest for not being able to fully enjoy the day with him. Dresden saw your look and made a face you couldn’t quite interpret.

“Listen,” he started, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure there are plenty of people who have lived next to a body of water their entire lives and are still afraid of it.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid of the water if it stopped producing such obnoxious mermen.”

“You say obnoxious, others might use the word ‘charming’.”

“Charming, huh? Doesn’t sound like anybody I know…”

“Give me a chance, and maybe I’ll show you what they mean,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ew, who even are you?” you laughed, “Keep talking to me like that and I’m gonna have to bop you one.”

“Oooh, those are fighting words. Why don’t you come down here and say that to my face? Oh… wait…”

You must have given him your meanest glare because when he saw your face he started laughing uncontrollably. He started to float on his back still shaking with laughter, when you got an idea. You took the tennis ball from out of Teddy’s mouth.

“Hey Dres! Heads up!” you called and tossed the neon yellow tennis ball to the merman who caught it swiftly with one hand. He looked down at the ball confused and looked up to see a gigantic mass of brown fur about to land on his face. Dresden’s girlish shriek and the gigantic splash of water made you double over in laughter. You were starting to catch your breath again when a huge form stepped up onto the platform next to you.

“What’s so funny?” Micah asked, watching Dresden tease Teddy into doggy-paddling in circles to chase his precious tennis ball. You stood up quickly and tried to straighten yourself out.

“Ha… it’s nothing, just Dresden being stupid,” you said with a small smile. Micah took a moment to observe your face and your ears warmed under the attention.

“You know… It’s good to see you out with all of us. I get worried about you sometimes,” he remarked, watching Dresden continue to tease Teddy in the water. Your thoughts paused for a moment as a warm feeling bloomed in your chest, heart fluttering like a bird. You liked knowing that he thought about you, even if it was just out of friendly concern.

Shouldn’t you be thinking about someone who was actually your girlfriend?

“I’m used to it,” you replied, “Not all of us can have a doting partner to keep an eye on them.”

Micah seemed to cringe at the reference to his girlfriend.

“Actually, me and Becca broke up…” he confided. You turned your head to look at him in shock. There was a sort of  dejected look in his big brown eyes. The two of you sat in silence and you thought about his bright, beautiful girlfriend…

No… ex-girlfriend…

Becca was a vibrant personality, energetic and friendly. When you were all younger, Micah and every other teenage boy in town couldn’t help but be infatuated with her. The summer you left for university, Micah had finally built up the courage to ask her out. Four years and one art degree later, when you finally returned to your hometown, it seemed like this gorgeous couple were well on their way to getting married. You nursed this crush for years, never entertaining the idea of actually being with Micah because he always seemed just out of reach…

Until now, I guess…

You reached out to grasp his big furry hands with your smaller ones when you saw the sad look on his face.

“Micah, I’m sorry,” you apologized. He gripped your hand in response and smiled a small smile at you.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Things don’t work out sometimes,” he sighed. You both looked at each other for a moment in a silence that stretched out a little longer than was comfortable. You looked down and you were still holding his hand and your palm was starting to sweat. With how hard your heart was starting to beat, your were afraid that he was going to notice your pulse quickening. Your mind raced to fill up the awkward silence with something… anything.

“Hey, you wanna race?” you blurted out before you even thought about the words coming out of your mouth. Before you could register the situation you put yourself in, Micah’s face lit up with a big smile.

“You’re on. Winner has to buy loser a case of beer!” he exclaimed as he went to unload the spare paddle board.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Willow’s gentle voice called your name, snapping you out of your panicked fog. She must have overheard your conversation because she looked just was panicked as you did.

“Hey, um, what’s this about you paddling with Micah?” Willow asked, alarmed. You saw Micah approaching with the boards and paddles.

“I don’t know, Willow, I just blurted it out,” you whispered. Willow looked at you and then at Micah, who was already setting up the boards.

“Okay look, you already know what to do. Micah already taught you. Just don’t look down and you’ll be fine, okay?” Willow coached you before you felt a warm hand pull gently at your wrist.

You barely registered where you were, until a paddle was pushed into your hands and you were standing on the board out in open water. Your eyes were parallel to the horizon the entire time you waited for Micah to push himself out as well, but you couldn’t help but notice how dark the water was below you, stretching down so far, light couldn’t even penetrate it. You’re heart was pounding in your ears.

Somehow, you managed to paddle yourself out and follow Micah on his board, even though you gripped the paddle so tight, your knuckles turned white. Micah turned around to give you a big grin and call your name.

“Better catch up! I can already taste that beer!” He called over his shoulder. You did your best to smile back despite the nausea rising up in your stomach and your heart thumping heavily in your chest.

I will buy you fifty cases of beer if it means I’ll never have to do this ever again, you thought as you moved the paddle mechanically.

You focused on keeping your eyes forward and paddling the way Micah had taught you. It seemed like you were doing okay, too, following Micah’s form toward the designated finish line until a random current caught you and pulled you away from the boats.

Stay calm. Don’t panic. Stay calm. Don’t panic.

Looking up to see the boats getting smaller as you drifted away, you heard a loud buzzing in your ears as you felt panic rise up through your spine. Suddenly, a random wake surged upwards in front of you, causing the nose of your board to tip up and backwards. The last thing you heard was Willow screaming your name and the ringing in your ears reaching a fever pitch before your back hit the water.

You gasped as you sunk and started choking on the water filling your lungs. The sudden chill of the water paralyzed you, even though you did everything you could to will your numb arms and legs to move. The world around you was just about to dim until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you and swiftly pull you to the surface.

When you reached the open air, you started coughing up all the water that you had swallowed. Your hair was pressed flat and wet against your face, blocking your vision, not that you could see, anyway, with the way your head was spinning. You clutched at broad shoulders and felt an arm hook your legs around a waist. A familiar voice- Dresden’s voice was repeating your name.

“I need you breath in and out really slow, okay? We can’t have you hyperventilating. Big breath in. Big breath out.” You breathed slowly like he instructed, your body clinging to his like a blind koala. You felt one arm hold you tightly against a firm torso and a big hand gently brush wet hair, plastered to your face, out of your eyes. He then cradled your cheek, keeping your head still, looking into your eyes with his striking hazel ones. Dresden’s defined jaw was clenched and his eyes were devoid of its usual mischief.

Why so serious?

You giggled a little bit, panic turning into hysterics.

“There she is. Hey, you’re okay. I got you,” he spoke softly, relief in his voice. His vibrant eyes were still flicking back in forth between your own searching for something. For what, you weren’t sure but the funny way his face looked made more giggles bubble up through your chest.

“I don’t think giggling is a symptom of a concussion, so we’re probably good,” the merman observed, “Hold on to my back and I’m gonna swim you back, okay?”

You nodded wordlessly in response and unhooked your legs from around his waist. He twisted around in your arms and started swimming towards Lobo.  Dresden’s powerful arms sliced through the water propelling the two of you forward, but he was careful enough to make sure to keep your head above water. When you approached Lobo, Romero pulled you out of the water and Willow wrapped you up in a thick beach towel. Your fully drenched clothes didn’t help the shiver that wracked your body despite the warm weather. Micah ran up from behind your two friends.

“What happened out there?! Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing your arms furiously over the towel, trying to warm your shaking body. Before you could say anything you heard Dresden’s voice interrupt you from the water.

“She got swept out by a current. When she fell, the undertow caught her. Maybe instead of dicking around, you should have kept an eye on her,” he ground out, angrily. Micah’s eyes flashed to Dresden, anger and confusion bleeding into his face.

“What the fuck, Dres? How is that fair?” Micah retorted, volume of his voice rising.

“Enough!” you yelled before your two friends could start hurling more insults at each other.

Dresden let out a curse and dove under the water, swimming away. Your shoulders drooped and you started to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. At the awkward silence around you, you closed your eyes, not being able to stop the tears from welling up. Willow wrapped her arms around you as you cried silently on the way home.

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Through your high windows you could see the light of the waxing moon shining dimly through the redwood trees surrounding your house. You were on your father’s old corduroy couch, wrapped in your thickest cardigan, with Teddy’s big head resting in your lap, softly snoring away.

Willow and Romero insisted on staying the night with you to make sure you were okay after your fall, but you told them you didn’t want to ruin their day more than you already did. When you finally promised that you would go to the neighbors if you felt strange, they took their leave. Hours later, you felt nothing but exhaustion and embarrassment at what happened.

You leaned your head against the cushion, closing your eyes to listen to the lo-fi music playing softly from your laptop. Distantly, if you focused, you could also hear the gentle push and pull of the tides breaking in front of your home.

Your mind drifted to the confusion on Micah’s face when he saw you pulled from the water and grabbed one of the cushions to shove in your face to muffle a groan.

Seriously? What the hell was I thinking?

You then thought about Dresden and the way his voice sounded when he yelled at Micah. Dresden almost always had a confident smile on his face, making crass jokes and pulling pranks. To see him so upset formed a knot in your stomach.

Gently lifting Teddy’s head, you got up from the couch to walk to the art studio. You knew it was too soon to try to start working again, but you needed to feel the charcoal in between your fingertips- to feel like there was at least something  you could control. You found the photograph of the old church and set it up next to your easel, making sure there was enough light on both the blank sketchbook and the reference.

Using the general shape of the building and the mass of foliage surrounding it you started sketching out general locations of where everything was. Then, you started adding in rough detail shaped as a guideline for how to paint. When you looked back at the photograph, though, something felt off. The trees in you sketch didn’t carry the same presence as it did in the photograph.

Is it the proportions? The shading?

You flipped a page to start over, determined to capture the ambience that you felt when you found the hidden church. Again, you sketched the general outline, but started with detailing the church. By the time you managed to sketch out most of the building, something in the proportion was off. You rubbed your charcoal dusted fingers on your forehead, willing away the frustration you felt growing behind your brows.

Before you could throw down your charcoal and call it a night, you heard Teddy whining from the other room. When you rounded the corner, your dog was pawing at the door, eager to get outside. Before you could even fully open the door, his massive form pushed his way out and made a break for the dock, barking ceaselessly into the night. You sighed in exasperation before running after your giant dog to stop him from waking the neighbors.

When you caught up to Teddy, you found him laying on the edge of the dock, nose sniffing at something swimming in the dark depths of the water, tail wagging wildly. Teddy gave another loud bark at a splash and you shushed him.

“Teddy, you’re gonna get us in trouble,” you chided, tuffing at his collar to bring him back inside.

“Gotta say, he’s got a pretty good nose,” came a voice from below the dock that made you yelp in surprise. Dresden swam out into the moonlight and you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Jesus, Dres! Can we keep my near-death experiences to once a day? Thanks,” you breathed, unclenching your fist from your rumpled cardigan.

“Heh, sorry,” he let out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

You went to sit at the end of the dock next to Teddy, legs hanging off the edge, toes dipping into the water. Neither of you said a word until you both looked at each other to smile awkwardly. Dresden almost always had something to say, so his silence unnerved you.

“What are doing here so late, Dres?” you asked, breaking the long silence. Dresden floated for a moment worrying his lip between his teeth and then finally spoke.

“I came to check on you…,” he stated, “and to apologize.”

Your brows furrowed and you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your body. You watched him for a moment, observing his face without saying anything.

“So,“ he started, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "Are you doing okay?”

You thought for a moment, stroking the downy fur of Teddy’s ear.

“Yeah, I’m doing okay…” you said, picking your words carefully, “Are you?”

Dresden looked at you in confusion.

“Yeah…? I’m not the one that almost drowned today,” he chuckled, albeit nervously. You let out another deep sigh, this time in exasperation.

“How am I supposed to know? You yell at Micah, who didn’t do anything mind you, and then you just left all mad! I’m not the one that needs an apology, Dresden,” you argued. This time you held his gaze, almost daring him to look away. Dresden did his best to match your stare, but then ran his hands across his face and his hair in frustration.

Before he could get a word in edgewise, you interrupted, “You guys are literally best friends and I already feel bad enough for ruining everybody’s day. I don’t want to be the reason why you two stop talking to each other.” You shifted your weight to lay on your stomach and rest your chin on your crossed arms, not unlike how Teddy looked, next to you. Dresden disappeared beneath the surface of the water and popped up again at the edge of the dock, pulling himself up out of the water enough to be at your to eye level. You pointedly held his hazel gaze until he rolled his and sighed in defeat.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow and apologize. For you. Satisfied?”

Both of you stared at each other for a long moment before sharing a big grin. When you two started snickering like little kids with a secret, a weight lifted from your conscience.

“I never got a chance to thank you for saving me out there,” you said after the soft chuckles you shared subsided, “Thank you. And I appreciate you not telling Micah what really happened.”

Dresden made another incomprehensible face, but you could almost anticipate his next question.

“Why don’t you just tell him you’re afraid of deep water? I doubt he’d care,” he asked, his turn to look you straight in the eye. You looked away as you tried to figure out how to best articulate your response.

“The thing is, is that I care,” you tried, but he just cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“You said it yourself, I’ve lived at Lake Obsidian my entire life, it’s completely irrational!” You buried your face in your arms, thumping your head against the wood deck. “He’ll think I’m a freak for hiding something like that for so long.”

You kept hiding your face in embarrassment and heard a soft curse. Dresden muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe I’m doing this…”

You lifted your head, “Sorry, what?”

“I’ll help you get over your…” he waved a hand in your general direction and said, “issue.”

You were mildly offended and confused.

“And why would you want to do that?” you asked.

“I’ll be sleep better knowing that the next time you try to impress Micah, you won’t end up at the bottom of the lake. Gods know that Micah’s big ass can’t swim as well as I can,” he concluded.

You flushed bright red at Dresden’s blatant remark.

Was I being that obvious?

“Okay then, let’s do it,” you promised before you could talk yourself out of it. Dresden gave you his signature cocky grin.

“Micah’s really lucky. I’ll see you tomorrow before sunset by Driftwood Beach. Bring a paddle board,” he instructed before disappearing beneath the dark water.

“Good night to you, too…” you muttered as stood up, watching the waxing moon’s reflection ripple in the water.

As you and Teddy walked back up to your house, you replayed the conversation over again in your head. That night you dreamed of a warm hand cradling your cheek and voice distorted by water whispering Micah’s really lucky.

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

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[ezekielbhandarivalleros]

Beach Day

Paring: Jake Tweneboah x Jackie Varma

Summary: Summertime fun with Jake and Jackie

Taglist: @princess-geek @schnitzelbutterfingers @yourresidentplayer @aussieez @choicesficwriterscreations @secretaryunpaid

Jake was awakened by something soft hitting him in the head. He opened his eyes, squinting against the bright sunshine beating its way into the room to confirm the source of the blow to his head amused but not surprised to discover it was her. Jackie was lying on top of him, elbows propped up on the bed, chin resting on her hands, grinning at him with that smile that melted his heart, the pillow she had used to hit him with lay on her side of the bed where the blankets were wrinkled and tangled around her.

"Morning," he greeted her with a kiss.

"Morning," she said kissing him back but rather quickly to his surprise "you know what today is right?"

She was looking at him with an eager look, waiting for an answer.

"No," he replied curiously and she grinned bigger.

"It's beach day!" she declared loudly, squirming excitedly under the covers.

And then he remembered. For days after waking up from her coma, once she had regained some physical strength and had been clarified on what she had missed while in the hospital, she was anxious to get back to her normal life. One of those senses of normalcy was taking trips and the first thing she had begged him for was a trip to the beach.

"I want to go to San Diego with you," she asked sweetly "I want to see where you work and your house and the beach, please can we go?"

Unable to resist the adorable pout Jackie gave him, and once he had cleared it with her doctors after her release from the hospital, he decided on a day that would be good for the both of them between her therapy sessions to go to San Diego.

After a sabbatical from his work there, he returned to California with her in tow, the both of them settling back into a normal routine, with Jackie as well, in his condo. It had been over a week now and she had begged him everyday to take her to the beach near the condo complex since she couldn't drive herself just yet and it was too far to walk.

Now, with her eager smile and excited squirming, he knew she couldn't wait any longer to see the ocean and spend some time in the sun.

"Oh that's today?" he teased her which earned him another pillow to his face.

"Yes," she said "you promised, now hurry up, let's go before all the good spots are taken."

She untangled herself from all the covers, pulling on his arm to get him to move and follow her as she got ready, happily chanting 'beach day" over and over. He grumbled and made a point to yawn and stretch over exaggeratedly in displeasure at having to get up so early but he knew she had been looking forward to this for weeks and he loved her to pieces so getting up early to go to the beach with her was like a dream come true.

He went downstairs to make them breakfast while she packed up a large beach bag with towels and sunscreen and everything they would need for today. As he was setting out plates for them to eat, he thought about the trip today and felt a slight concern that a lengthy duration at a crowded beach in the hot sun might be too much for her post coma. But he had to remind himself that she was Jackie Varma, a force to be reckoned with and his concern faded away.

After breakfast, which she practically inhaled just to get them out the door faster, they loaded up his truck with the beach bags, folding chairs, a few snacks and some bottled water. When he got in the car she was already in the passenger seat, radio playing, window rolled down and sunglasses on staring at him with a goofy grin.

"Ready?" he asked her and she nodded, squirming to settle back in her seat while he drove.

San Diego was her new favorite place, she thought as she leaned back in her seat, the breeze whipping her hair around as they drove a few miles down to the ocean front she had been anxious to see for weeks. They passed palm trees, lavish homes and lots of people being out in the fresh air and warm sun. She tried to find a cloud in the sky but there wasn't a single one. That made her smile more.

Jake had to pay extra attention to the road as he drove because he found himself stealing glances at her. She was stretching to see ahead of the traffic for their destination, leaning back when she determined it was still not in view, humming along to the radio and being ridiculously adorable.

When he slowed the car to a stop inside a large parking lot full of other cars and beachgoers, she leapt out and raced around to the trunk to start retrieving their supplies.

"Easy," he warned her when he noticed her trying to carry the two folding chairs, beach bag and cooler all at the same time.

"I can do it," she reminded him trying to show she was still the same after her coma.

"I know," he said "but let me help."

She reluctantly handed him the folding chairs but continued to drag the rest of the supplies through the hot asphalt parking lot to the sandy entranceway a few feet ahead.

"Let's set up there," she declared boldly pointing at a spot "no there"

Jackie switched it up at least six times before finally shuffling through the sand to a spot no one had occupied yet and promptly dropping all the supplies down to claim their territory.

"Here, this is perfect," she announced beginning to rummage through her beach bag while he set up the chairs and umbrella that came with it for shade against the hot sun beating down on them.

Once everything was set up, she bounced over to him and asked "What should we do first?"

"Relax," he suggested leaning back in one of the chairs while she continued to stand, arms crossed in disapproval.

"That's boring," she complained "we should go swimming and look for seashells and build a sandcastle and surf and-

She was cut off by him grabbing her wrist and pulling her down to sit in his lap. She giggled as they both almost fell out of the chair.

"We can do all that stuff," he said "I promise, we have all day, lets not rush it."

"Okay," she finally agreed after he kissed her in the hopes of settling her down.

He knew her so well, she thought as she leaned back in his arms to watch the waves roll in.

As he inticipated, she couldn't sit still for long. She dragged him out of the chair and to the waters edge, dropping to her knees in the sand and starting to dig through it for seashells. He didn't want to discourage her, but after living here for a few months, he know most shells were likely going to be broken due to the strength of the wave and all the tourists walking the beach everyday. Nevertheless, he dropped to his knees in the sand beside her to help her search.

After a good twenty minutes of scraping at the sand, they still had not found anything yet.

"Maybe next time sweetheart," he tried to assure her but she still looked disappointed.

They were both covered in sand so they stood in the ankle deep water, letting the waves wash over them. One particularly strong wave hit her and almost knocked her over.

"Careful," he warned, fearful of her tumbling into the ocean and the consequences somehow leading to another coma.

He reached out to hold her hand and guide her away from any more oncoming waves but when he grabbed a hold of her, she pulled him further into the waves until they had both fallen into the water. He thought it was an accident, until he heard her laughing hysterically at their mishap.

"Gotcha," she teased splashing water at him, still laughing.

That laugh turned into a scream when he leapt up and chased after her, catching her quickly and scooping her up in his arms.

"Gotcha," he teased back before promptly tossing her into the next wave.

She screamed again but laughed at their game. She raced back to him and pushed him into the water to make him chase her again. Back and forth they went, tossing each other into the water. She loved the thrill of him chasing her, then the moment when he caught her, lifting her up in his arms making her stomach tingle with anticipation before he swayed with her over the water momentarily then spilled her into the waves.

After the fourth time they did this, she stood on the shore line catching her breath and he was worried that they had overdone it.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, sweeping her tangled wet hair out of her face.

"Fine," she said breathlessly.

"We can take a break if you want," he said.

"Oh and let you win?" she said smugly "no way, it's tied, we have to break it."

He had no idea she had been keeping track of how many times they had tossed each other in the water but he loved her spirit so he said "Game on."

They raced back to the waters edge, waiting for more waves. She stood on her toes searching the deeper water for any sign of one. When one finally bubbled up and started moving closer she begged "Chase me" and raced along the shoreline.

She was so fast and so full of energy it was like she never fell into that coma, he thought as he did what she asked and raced after her. She had every intention of winning, she thought, as she lured him out into the water when a less violent looking wave came along. She had to slow down to avoid a group of kids and it cost her. He caught up to her, sliding one arm around her waist and pulling her back to him.

"No," she protested loudly, trying to squirm out of his hold but could feel her feet sinking into the wet sand instead.

In one motion he had scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the waters edge.

"What to do with you?" he teased swaying treacherously over the water with her to build the suspense.

She kept fighting to escape his hold but he wasn't letting her go that easily. As the next wave approached, he tossed her right into it, hearing her shriek in surprise but laugh when he came to rescue her seconds later.

After their jaunt through the ocean, they raced back to their chairs and towels to dry off.

"I'm hungry," she announced to him.

"Me too," he said looking around at the little shops and cafes behind them on the boardwalk "what should we get?"

"Pizza!" she said firmly.

He agreed and went to fetch them some food. On his way back from the little café with their pizza, he spotted a gift shop and grinned when one particular item caught his eye. When he returned with their food, she ate it just as fast she had her breakfast. He knew her doctors had put on her a careful diet after her coma to get her body used to food again so spoiling her with a few slices of pizza didn't bother him. When she finished eating, he presented her with another bag and a grin.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Just open it," he encouraged her.

She tore into the package like a kid on Christmas and pulled out two plastic buckets and two plastic shovels with little holes in them.

"I know they are for kids," Jake explained "but I figured we could use them to find some seashells, might make it easier."

Jackie was staring at him as if he had presented her with a million dollars. She felt tears of gratitude sting at her eyes and she bit her lip to make them stop.

"I love it-I love you, thank you" she gushed launching herself at him with a hug.

"I love you too," he said smiling at how the simplest gestures seemed to make her the happiest.

"Come on," she insisted handing him a bucket and a shovel "lets go look now."

She didn't wait for him as she raced back to the waters edge, sank down into the sand and began digging away furiously.

Despite being equipped with tools, every shell she found was broken just like he anticipated but didn't have the heart to tell her. But she refused to stop searching. She had dug several holes in the sand in a small area around them, scrapping as far as her arm could reach for any in tact shells that might be hidden. The sun had started to set when she yelped suddenly, startling him but when he glanced up, she was grinning, and holding up two perfectly whole seashells.

"Look Jackie ," she gushed excitedly presenting him with the shells as if they were gold.

"Nice," he said impressed with her resilience at searching in the hot sun.

She brushed off the sand that coated the shells delicately with her fingers so as not to break them before carefully setting the pair into her bucket for safekeeping. She wiped her hands of loose sand then rubbed her eyes. He noticed her do that whenever she started to get tired at home or at the hospital after the coma and he took that as a cue to start packing up their stuff and head home.

In the car, she was less energetic, no longer humming along with the radio but instead staying silent and examining the tiny shells with care. Back at his condo, she dumped all their supplies in the hallway and shuffled over to the sink to start cleaning the shells better. She kept glancing at her cell phone that was on the counter and provided instructions on how to properly clean them. She set them in a plastic cup with water to soak for a little, resting her chin on her hands on the counter watching the shells sink to the bottom of the cup slowly.

"I'll unpack," he offered, kissing the top of her head while she watched the shells.

"I need a shower," she declared abandoning the shells to do that in the hopes that they would be clean by the time she was done.

After a shower and a change of clothes, she immersed herself into the world of seashells, using her laptop to research different types and how to search for them properly. She sat cross legged on the couch in the living room while she worked, chewing on her thumb while reading article after article trying to retain as much knowledge as possible until her eyes grew heavy from staring at the screen too long and she had to stop. She retrieved the now clean and dry shells from the kitchen and took them into the master bedroom where Jake was already in bed watching T.V.

She crawled into the bed and under the covers exhausted, lying on top of him like she had done this morning, holding up the shells for him to see and saying "Aren't they pretty?"

"They're beautiful," he praised her, hugging her tight.

She smiled and placed the shells gently on the nightstand for safekeeping, settling back in his arms, her head resting on his chest, feeling sleepy but still wanting to keep talking.

"I love this place," she mumbled tiredly to him "I love the beach and seashells and you and our special beach day, thank you for taking me."

"You're welcome sweetheart," he said struck once again by how the simplest gestures seemed to mean so much to her.

As she dozed peacefully in his arms, he couldn't help but think of all she had been through and all she was doing right now to live her life to the fullest. Every second with her was a gift, her survival a miracle and he wasn't going to waste any chance to spoil her with love and beach days.

[thatesqcrush]

The Secret

Rafael Barba x Reader. 

CW: language, some suggestive language, some angst, tooth rotting fluff.

Prompts filled: “Hey if your inspired could you do prompt 26. "Do you think they can hear us through the tent?” “Yes we can.” With Barba and a new detective? Maybe the squad went on a camping trip? If you don’t have time then no worries!” @bre160997 plus “Hi, hun! If it's okay, could I request prompt 12 + 29 from the Lyric Starters? Maybe a fight with Barba in front of the SUV or something, I'm really just craving for angst from @i-t-s-a-n-d-y & finally, from @thefanficfaerie Dr. Who Challenge: “Then you stole me. And I stole you… What made you think I had any intention of ever giving you back.”

WC: 2118

--

“Did you hear? We are going to do some team building exercise this weekend?” Amanda groaned as you entered the locker room.

“What? No. I was going through a case file all afternoon with Barba.” You replied, as you gathered your belongings.

“Barba and Y/N sitting in a tree… k-i-s-s-i-n-g.” Amanda sang, which garnered a glare from you.

“Oh stop it!” You threw your jacket at Amanda who caught it. “It’s not like that.”

Amanda cocked her brow at you. You sighed, defeated. “Okay, it’s like that. But please don’t say anything to Olivia. Barba and I haven’t made it official. He keeps stalling. And there is a ton of disclosure paperwork that needs to be completed.”

“I’m aware – you forget Sonny and I…” Amanda wiggled her left hand at you. You rolled your eyes.

“I know – but it’s different. You and Carisi had a long history together. You each had rank. I’m the newbie.”

“And Barba is the hand that rocks the cradle.” Amanda snickered. “Why do you think he keeps stalling? It’s been six months.”

You grabbed your jacket from Amanda. “So what exactly is this team building exercise?” You asked, ignoring her question. 

Truth be told, you were terrified as to why Rafael kept stalling.

--

“What the hell is this place?” You wondered out loud, as you stepped out of the SUV.

“Welcome to Bear Mountain!” Sonny replied, slapping his hand on your back. He walked past you and you watched as the rest of the team climbed out of the car.

“Fresh mountain air, private trails, a clean creek. We’re going to have ourselves a true mountain adventure and take to the wildness.” Oliva replied.

A woman with wild hair and a hippie dippy dress approached. She had a wide , friendly smile. “Are you the police group from NYC? SVU?”

Olivia nodded.

“Welcome, welcome! I’m Teres, and I am the owner of these grounds. “ Teres clapped her hands and the bangle bracelets she wore clinked together.

Sonny raised his brow and Amanda jabbed him in the ribs.

“These grounds are actually behind my family’s orchard and farm. We have tents set up for you all, but there is also a micro-cabin with a fully functioning bathroom and shower. While it seems like you have left the world behind, we are 10 minutes from the local grocer, diner, deli and pizza place. Barton’s Orchard is also a 15 minute drive. Tymor Park is 2 miles down the road. There you will find a swimming pool, more hiking trails, a lake for boating, volleyball courts and more.” Teres continued. “Is everyone here?”

Olivia looked around. “We’re waiting for one more.”

You turned to Liv. “Who else is coming?”

“Barba.” Olivia replied. “Thank you for having us, Teres.”

Amanda looked over at you and winked.

--

“The purpose of this weekend is to bring the team together. Now that we have Kat…” Olivia announced, smiling at the young detective. “And Y/N.” She smiled at you. “Carisi is our new ADA and Barba is our new Bureau Chief. Things at the one-six have shaken up. I thought this would be a nice way to get away from the hum-drum of the city and do some old-school bonding.”

At that moment, the rumble of a car approaching the grounds filled the air. You watched as Rafael got out of the cab. He was way over dressed naturally - this did not surprise you. He seemed awkward and out of place. He frowned looking around before his eyes met Liv’s and he smiled brightly. He walked over and said hello. You tried to say hi but he brushed you off and immediately you hated the weekend and wanted to go home.

Your whole life you lived by the motto that you don’t shit where you eat. You didn’t do workplace romances. Then you transferred to Manhattan SVU and had a random hook-up with one very sexy Cuban man after your first hard case who just happened to be the Bureau Chief. But after that one incident, in which you both swore could never happen again, you both couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

But it was a secret. Months and months passed. Now it was six months in. You kept wanting to tell Olivia – but Rafael kept saying it was not the right time. More and more, it felt like the guilt of the relationship was taking its toll. You finally caved one night to your partner, Amanda, spilling every last drop.

Amanda took the information in stride and promised she would keep it all under confidence. That said, she did enjoy occasionally ribbing you from time to time about it.

Night quickly approached. The whole time Rafael dodged you as best as he could. You pulled out your phone and wondered if you could fake an emergency to escape. The campsite claimed there was wi-fi but the connection was shitty.

“Hey.”

You looked up at Fin, who crouched next to you. “Hey.” You replied dejectedly while you nibbled at a s’more.

“You okay? You’ve been quiet all day. Not like you.” Fin replied. You sighed, watching Sonny and Amanda across the campsite with Rafael, laughing over God knows what.

“Yeah. Just tired. Camping isn’t my thing.” You replied. “I need to be in actual civilization.”

“I get that. I don’t do nature either.”

“I think… I am going to head to bed.” You replied standing. You stretched out your hand. “Want the rest of my s’more?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Fin replied. “Maybe Barba wants it. He’s always hungry.” He laughed and jutted his head towards the direction where Barba was.

You hummed and gave Fin a smile before heading to your tent. The ground was cold and hard. Sleep was futile.

It was one weekend. You could do this.

--

The next morning, breakfast was being had and Olivia was busy going over some of the bonding activities everyone was going to partake in. You decided to take your coffee to go, walking up a trail.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t go by yourself. Barba, why don’t you accompany her?” Amanda replied, with a wink to you. “Unless you want to go kayaking with us.”

You shot a look at Amanda. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Nonsense – everyone should be in pairs. You never know what could happen.” Olivia replied. “Besides this is about team morale and building.”

“Great.” You gritted. Rafael looked at you and gave you a small, forced smile.

“After you, detective. Lead the way.” Rafael replied.

The walk up the trail towards Tymor Park was mostly quiet between you. After you were far enough from the campsite, you whipped around and stepped in front of Rafael, causing him to take a step back.

“I was trying to get away from you!” You hissed.

“Look, Y/N, I don’t know why you are so upset with me.” Rafael began. “I told you I wasn’t ready to disclose.”

“When will you be ready? Why don’t you respect me or our relationship?” You replied, sitting on a rock.

“That’s not true – you know I respect you. It is just complicated.”

“No, it’s not. You are making it complicated.” You watched as a white butterfly flitted by.

Rafael sighed and sat on a rock next to you. “I thought we wouldn't last a month. But then we did, and then another month, and I'm still not sure how this happened.”

Rafael pulled your chin to face him. You jutted your chin out from his grasp. ““It feels like you don’t care.” You scoffed. You stood and crossed your arms. “Well?” You asked, exasperated when Rafael didn’t immediately respond. Your eyes began to shimmer with tears that threatened to fall.

You looked over your shoulder as you began to march in the opposite direction. “I’m going back to the campsite. If you want to follow me, that is your prerogative.”

---

Rafael used the opportunity to think about what he wanted to do as he followed you back to campsite. Truth was that he did like you – a lot. He might even dare to say his feelings bordered on love. But ever since Yelina had broken his heart so many years ago, he was reticent about any kind of relationship. Certainly his line of work didn’t allow for romance and he used that to his advantage.

Then you came along. And turned his whole world upside down.. 

You were the newest detective after Kat Tamin. You were like a breath of much needed fresh air. You weren’t jaded like the other detectives and thought outside the box. When other detectives offered stereotypical analysis, you had a way of providing another vantage point that might not have been otherwise stated.

You were also thirteen years his junior.

Rafael worried that disclosing the relationship would make him come across some kind of old man pervert. And instead of telling you and leaning on you, he decided to push you away because it was easier to avoid than deal with feelings he wasn’t used to.

When you had gotten back to the campsite, you stormed off to where Fin and Sonny were, joining them in a card game. Your eyes met Rafael’s and you glared at him before turning to Sonny and laughing at what he said.

Rafael felt his heart sink a bit. And then he gathered what resolve he had and vowed to make things right with you. He didn’t want to risk losing you.

---

After a day of more bonding activities, you all sat around the campfire. Sonny strummed his guitar – a hobby of his – as he lead everyone through a round of Wagon Wheel.

Picking me a bouquet of dogwood flowers

And I'm a-hopin' for Raleigh, I can see my baby tonight

So rock me momma like a wagon wheel…

Finally, everyone decided to hit the sack and call it a night. You were settling into your sleeping bag, when you heard the zipper to your tent open. You turned on your flashlight and directed it to the tent opening.

“Who the fu—”

Rafael poked his head in. “Can we talk?” The light shone directly into his eyes, nearly blinding him. He blocked the light with his hand.

You sighed. “I’m going to bed. Make it quick.”

Rafael climbed into the tent and settled next to you. You set the flashlight between you, causing an eerie glow. Rafael took your hands in his and pressed kisses along your knuckles.

“Hermosa, you deserve to know the truth. What I feel for you…” Rafael sighed, shaking his head. You felt your heart thud in your chest and your stomach churned. You thought perhaps he was going to break your heart for good.

You interrupted him and began to speak, your voice shaking. “Please spare me the humiliation…”

“No! If I ever made you feel like I don’t love you. That was my fault and I’m a bad liar.” Rafael replied.

“You love me?” You asked, your voice hopeful.

“I do.” Rafael replied. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Then you stole me. And I stole you… What made you think I had any intention of ever giving you back.”

“I love you too Rafael.” You replied. You climbed over to his lap, knocking over the flashlight. You leaned over and pressed your lips against his. Rafael groaned, and opened his mouth, returning your kiss. He stretched out his leg and pulled you into his lap. His hands ran up and down your thighs, squeezing your ass as you hungrily kissed each other. His tongue danced with yours and you ground yourself against him. You could feel his cock harden. You moaned loudly as he lowered his mouth to the slope of your neck sucking on a sweet spot, causing you to grind further down. “Oh Rafael!”

Rafael slapped his hand over your mouth. “Sshhh.”

“Do you think they can hear us through the tent?” You asked.

“Yes we can.” A voice that sounded a lot like Olivia’s called out. “And here I thought we would have to worry about Rollins and Carisi.”

You and Rafael burst into laughter. “Well, I was going to suggest disclosing in the morning, but I think we were found out.” Rafael replied.

“Good. Now that they all know…come here.” You replied – your voice was filled with want. You wrapped your hand around Rafael’s neck once more and pulled him down on top of you.

FIN.

Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @choppedgalaxynerd @detective-giggles@rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader- anyone else, just ask! xo

[pynkhues]

[purple heart] [ring] [baby]

(This is coming so late, I’m sorrrry, haha)

💜- top 3 favorite lines

In Weird News, my book went to print last week (!) and so basically everything in my head at the moment has been related to that and not to fic, so I suddenly can’t remember a single thing I’ve written in this fandom, haha.

Soooo, I’m going to share an excerpt of my novel I really love instead. It’s actually a scene that wasn’t in the earlier drafts and was something I wrote during the last round of edits as my editor thought that I needed to feed a little more context to a particular dynamic. She thought there was enough on the page to get by, but with the way the story is structured, the timeline starts late in both of these relationships, and she said that she was hungry to know more of the history of them as both an editor and a reader.

I wrote this scene pretty quickly (it just sort of tumbled out of me), and it’s since become one of both my editor’s and my favourite scenes in the whole thing. I’m not sure if it’ll stand so well on its own here without the rest of the story, but what the hell.

-

It happens like this:

Ed leaves and Delia throws herself into work.

Ed leaves and Delia picks up more classes at the college and loses herself in study plans and marking and guiding the work of her students – the vulnerable new talent and the amateur egos and the kids who want the aesthetic but not the grind, who want awe not help, praise not critique, the ones who aren’t up for the challenge and the ones who are, and it works for those first six months.

It works because Delia’s been a lot of things, but she’s never been the sort to languish for days unoccupied, and it’s easy to forget Ed’s not at home when she’s working or managing the school run or fighting her mother’s memories and her own at Saint Anne’s, and the nights she can’t forget are so few that she doesn’t need anything but her own hand or her showerhead or her vibrator to find a peak she can tumble over, and it works.

For six months.

Because Ed left before he leaves, and they hadn’t made love in months anyway, and when they had it hadn’t felt like them, and he hadn’t touched her like she’d wanted him to, and she hadn’t kissed him because of that. Because it hadn’t felt right.

Because, because, because.

But then it’s six months later and Ed has left her, and her daughter feels like somebody else’s and her sons are growing up too fast and Ed’s cagey about coming over now that he’s shacked up with his girlfriend, as if the kids might find out he was fucking her before he stopped fucking Delia, and so Delia works more, and she’s helping Griff – a tender talent, not one of those students fantasising about futures that’ll never happen – and he’s in her office one night and she’s just helping him with his second-year folio, and it’s not – it’s nothing like—

But he kisses her.

He kisses her and oh.

Maybe she’d been lonely after all.

💍- your most underrated story

I talked about On a Balcony with Champagne Lips here, but I’m actually always a bit surprised Get Your Kicks Driving Me Down isn’t more popular than it is? It’s not that it’s unpopular at all, but it’s definitely one of my least popular Brio one-shots, which is always a little bit of a bummer because it was a story I put a lot of work into. I hadn’t really written many fight scenes before, and writing Rio trying to teach Beth self-defense after 2.07 and it ending in messy sexy times was something that was both challenging and a lot of fun to write, haha.

👶- advice for new writers

I’m a very firm believer that you have to know the rules of writing before you can decide to break them. 

I think when writers start out (me included!), they tend to jump in with both feet and can passionately fall into this idea of writing, more so than the writing itself. The process becomes a sort of aesthetic one where the goal isn’t creating a story, but of creating a transcendent work that connects with people far and wide, but that’s not really how it works.

Writing’s a trade.

I think a natural affinity is definitely a part of it, sure, but only so much as it is for any trade. I swim a lot, for example, and as a result am a pretty strong swimmer, but I’m not fast and I’m never going to win any prizes for it. I don’t have a natural affinity for it, but the hard work got me pretty good. At the same time though, no naturally good swimmer gets in a pool with no training and wins gold at the Olympics.

They work and learn and train.

Understanding things like building setting, cause and effect, character motivations + arcs, beginnings, middles and ends, hell, even sentence and paragraph structure, might all seem like things you inherently know (and I think we do, to an extent. I think people are natural storytellers), but writing is a craft and like any other craft, you still need to study up on the basics before you can start playing with those things in a way that’s effective and compelling.

You need to learn how to swim before you can start inventing your own strokes.

Learn the rules of storytelling, then do whatever the hell you want with them, but I can guarantee you that if you decide to jump in and immediately decide you’re going to write a story with no setting or no ending, you’re going to look like you’re splashing around in the shallows.

I know I did! I read some of my first short stories where I obviously knew next to nothing about story structure, and they are. Um. Not good, haha.

Natural talent gets you nowhere if you don’t put the work in to learn what came before you and besides, breaking the rules is a lot more fun when you know what it is you’re breaking. ;-)

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