#it’s not unreasonable to not want all your cars covered in dog hair

[fruitless-vain]

I was really worried about having issues with the rental company, the car is getting repaired today so insurance is covering a rental during the repair period. The dude casually ran through the rules, hit the “no pets” spiel, I prepped myself for the worst, said “I do have a service dog I just want to clarify that her travelling won’t cause any issues, she travels exclusively in her kennel”

Brace for the worst

“Okay yeah, I’ll just put a note in here, we really just want the car not to come back smelling like wet dog”

“Not a problem at all”

I’ll probably still give the car a clean before sending it back to be safe, and probably do some dry shampoo baths for her throughout the week to be safe. I wouldn’t want my car returned smelling like dog either, nor would I want fur drifting around triggering someone else’s allergies

But yay! Didn’t have major access issues! Yet! We’ll see what happens on return day

[pagingdoctorbedlam]

Hello again! Now that I know who you write for, I'm back with a request! Can I please suggest Sanji x Reader (if that's okay) with the following summer theme prompt? I'm actually really curious to see your take on Sanji. 😳

“some asshole left their dog in the car in the blistering heat and we both noticed and are debating on what to do” au

Thank you so much for doing this! 🥰

Hi Luxi, and thanks for bringing me my first-ever askbox fic prompt! (the prompt list is here for anyone interested)

The idea for this fic sprung into my head soon as I read the prompt, so I hope you enjoy...

"Dog Days: A Sanji x Reader Fic"

You hadn't even made it halfway to the store when you noticed the dog. Not that it was hard to ignore; the poor mutt surveyed the entire parking lot from the window of a jacked-up pickup, and its baleful barks escaped the tiniest crack in the window. The day was hot enough that you were sweltering soon as you stepped outside; you couldn't imagine how bad it must be for a fuzzy dog, much less one trapped in a truck.

Soon as you heard the mutt, all plans derailed. You couldn't just leave it there, and who knew how long the owner might be gone? You racked your brain for a plan, but you had to think fast. The dog's whimpers were already getting weaker.

When you strode up to the car, someone else had the same idea. A tall blond strode up to the opposite side of the truck, eyes so narrowed they looked about to shoot lasers. The truck was large enough that it had running boards to reach the doors, but he hopped right up with a water bottle. The dog shuffled over at the sight of a human, and as the stranger dripped cool water through the crack in the windows, the dog eagerly lapped it up. Its tail still barely wagged, even that exertion too much in this heat.

"This dog can't stay in here," you said as you stared at the locks. The truck didn't have a keypad, thank goodness...and as a matter of fact, it had one of those manual locks on the inside, the sort you pulled up to unlock the car. Which would've been perfect if you weren't wearing sandals. "Hey. Weird question, but are you wearing shoes with laces right now?"

The blond looked at you through the truck window. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"I think I can get the truck open, but I'll need to borrow a shoelace."

You figured the guy would refuse, or at least ask questions as to why you needed his darn shoes. Instead, he hopped down from his side of the truck and ambled over to you. He was a handsome guy, now that you got a good look at him. Tasteful button-down shirt and slacks even in this weather, slick blond hair with bangs that covered half his face in a way that looked more mysterious than old-school emo...the curly eyebrow was a little odd, but in a quirky way. Made him more handsome, in an odd way. Especially when he put one foot up on the running board and unlaced his shoe, sliding the string out and handing it to you with a determined nod.

You formed a small lasso with the shoestring, then slid it into the crack in the window. All you had to do was lower it onto the lock, tighten the loop, and pull.

"You happen to be a master thief or something?" The blond asked, simultaneously curious and impressed.

"Nothing so fancy. I'm just real bad about leaving my keys in my car. Keep an eye out in case the owner comes back, okay?"

The stranger nodded and hopped back onto the running board to peer over the top of the truck. Meanwhile, the mutt inside crawled up to the front seat, curious at this new development. It thankfully seemed smart enough to recognize that it was being saved, and didn't bat at the string. Just a little more, and...there! You tightened the loop and pulled the lock up with a satisfying click.

Three things happened at once.

You pulled the door open.

The mutt leapt into your arms with such force, you fell off the running board.

And the car alarm blared with the fury of a thousand hornets.

You clutched the mutt tight to your chest and prepared to hit the pavement, but you instead fell into a pair of sturdy arms. The wind hit your face as you opened your eyes; the blond was bolting full-tilt through the parking lot with you and the dog in his grasp.

"Where's your car?" He shouted.

"Left it home! I took the bus! Where's your car?"

"I walked!" His shoes slapped against the pavement, and you belatedly realized that the shoestring had been left behind in the chaos, still looped around the lock in the still-open door of the truck. Your imagination ran wild with cops somehow tracking down your prints from the shoestring and chasing you down for kidnapping a dog.

"Are we being chased?" You asked.

"Don't know! Not looking back. But if I ever see this dog's owner, I'm kicking his ass!" The blond took a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding a collision with a gaggle of college students. "I'm taking us to my work. There's food and A/C there for the dog, and we can figure out what we're doing from there."

You couldn't think of a better plan, and you wouldn't abandon the mutt at this rate, especially as it licked your face in appreciation. So you nodded and wondered where this bizarre day would take you next.

You'd heard of the Baratie, never had a chance to eat there. Not for lack of funds or interest; it just never came up. So imagine your surprise when you found yourself at the local favorite restaurant before opening, sitting next to a mutt happily lapping up water, the blond stranger humming nearby as he cooked up a meal in the kitchen. Because when he said "get the dog food", he didn't mean ordinary dog chow, but serving up the dog a homemade feast to make up for the ordeal it had just endured.

You had no idea what the dog's name was, or if it had one at all. It had no nametag, just a cheap metal choke-chain you'd swiftly removed. The dog seemed healthy enough, but there were patches in its fur and the scrapes of a rough life outdoors. You decided that, even on the off-chance that someone chased you down for dognapping, you'd refuse to give the mutt up. It deserved a far better home than the one it came from.

Still. "I can't believe I just stole a dog with a random stranger," you said aloud.

"Well then, let's fix that," the blond said as he wandered out with a pair of plates. "I'm Sanji, and here's lunch. Can't be strangers with a name and a meal together, huh?" He set one down in front of the dog, who happily immediately dug into a feast of meat, brown rice, and assorted canine-safe veggies. The other, he set on the table in front of you. You blinked; he'd asked you off-hand questions about your food preferences when you'd arrived, but you hadn't expected him to actually cook for you too.

"I...thank you. And nice to meet you, Sanji." You gave him your name, and his entire face brightened as if it were music to his ears. "Look, this is really sweet, but I don't have a huge amount of cash on hand."

"That's fine. This is on the house, for your heroism and quick-thinking." Sanji took the seat opposite you with a soft smile. "If you hadn't come along, I don't know what I would've done. My only plan was to break the window, but that might've hurt the dog."

You took a bite of your meal. A medley of flavor danced across your tongue. "You know, reasonable folks would've...I dunno, gone inside and had customer service call over the intercom. Or called the cops. Made it someone else's problem."

Sanji shrugged. "Maybe. Think I would've stuck around anyway, saw it through to the end. Had to know if the little guy was alright." There was a softness in Sanji's eye as he looked down at the dog, who chowed down on its meal as if it had never seen food in its life. It was a look of understanding, the sort that came with a history one didn't ask about lightly. Made you curious about this handsome stranger, one who'd drop all plans and leave behind his own shoelaces in order to help someone in need.

You said, "Thank goodness for the unreasonable people of the world, then. Speaking of which...what're we going to do with the dog? I could try to smuggle it into my apartment, but the owners don't allow pets, so I'd have to be careful."

Sanji's gaze flitted up to the ceiling. "My apartment's right over the restaurant. I can keep the dog here."

"Your landlord won't mind?"

"Not if he wants to keep his best chef around. Besides, he's a sucker for underdogs. If the old owner comes back for this little guy, Zeff will toss the guy out by his ears." Sanji winked and turned to the dog. "What do you say, huh? Wanna' stay here with me? Fresh food every day and no choke-chains." The mutt barked in approval, tail wagging at full speed.

Sanji turned to you again. "You're free to visit, if you'd like. I mean, I can't take the dog out during work hours...but like, on breaks, or before we open?"

You smiled at this handsome stranger, with his heart on his sleeve and a sparkle in his eyes. You realize that yes, you'd be more than happy to see him again. "I'd love that. Besides, I'm pretty sure I owe you a new pair of shoelaces..."

[taetaetiger]

taekook. ‘lost dog’. 1.3k. jeongguk finds yeontan on his morning run.

Jeongguk prefers his morning runs at unreasonable hours of night. He likes how cool the summer nights are, how empty the nighttime streets are, and more than anything, he likes that nobody is watching his body or trying to catch his eye at half past three in the morning. Just a man, his MP3 player, and the sweat on his brow. That's all he needs. It rained the evening before, so the sidewalks are a bit slick, but nothing is particularly exciting. Jeongguk knows his route. He knows he'll be home around a quarter past four. He knows that a dog is going to bark at him from the overgrown foliage in an abandoned lot. No, actually, no he doesn't. He also doesn't jump in surprise. He doesn't.

Jeongguk trudges to a stop and pulls his earbuds out of his ears. Some yappy thing behind him is going wild in the bushes. Jeongguk takes a few steps closer, but even as the supposed dog becomes slightly more raucous and shrill, it's too dark to see where it is. Or fuck, Jeongguk thinks as he crouches down before the blackness of the overgrowth, what it is.

"Here doggy, doggy," Jeongguk mumbles, whistling lowly under the madness. A single car rushes by, whisking up leaves from the sidewalk. The dog drags out a snarl before continuing more of the same yip tirade. Jeongguk kind of likes dogs on a good day, but he has no idea why anybody would ever want to bring something like this into their home. Is it a stray, he wonders? Runaway or street dog? Safe for him to even be this close?

A small, pointed nose pokes far enough through the leaves of the bush for Jeongguk to see. He only has the moon and a distant, yellowing streetlamp to work with, but if it weren't for the rampant barking, he'd think he was looking at a very large city rat. Jeongguk actually falls backwards trying to get away from it. His MP3 player skitters out of his pocket and almost off the curb. Earbuds are bouncing wildly. The entire scene is in chaos, and Jeongguk has a luxury, fluffy rat in his lap.

And fuck him, he knows whose luxury, fluffy rat this is.

Jeongguk swipes his phone and earbuds off the ground before standing up with Yeontan tucked under one arm. It doesn't work very well, the dog is still thrashing and barking as terribly as small dogs tend to do. Between that and a clumsy one-handed search on his phone, they're this close to creating another scene of disaster across the sidewalk. He just needs to know that he's headed in the right direction, it isn't like he wouldn't know the road to Taehyung's apartment in the darkness of four A.M.

He hopes Taehyung hasn't moved. He hopes Taehyung isn't upset to see him. More than anything, he hopes this dog passes out from lack of oxygen because it's not even breathing, it's just barking and thrashing and pretending that it's going to bite him. Jeongguk doesn't think Tae's dog ever liked him, anyways. But he's trying to finish his morning jog while returning this terrible creature to the angel that loves it, and the terrible creature only seems to find more and more terrible ways to tell him that it doesn't enjoy being bounced by his run.

The sky is still completely dark when he turns up at Taehyung's place. Jeongguk stands outside puffing for breath, wondering if he should leave, he should probably stay, wishing that he'd worn a shirt this morning either way. Also, Yeontan won't shut up and Jeongguk thinks he might get letters of grievance from all of Tae's neighbors. He doesn't even live in this complex. Jeongguk feels his heart thundering in his chest. He should just go. Taehyung couldn't possibly be happy to see him at ass o' clock not even morning yet.

The door in front of him explodes open. Jeongguk actually shouts, and squeezes the dog close, and gets bitten, and shouts again. And then he's being attacked, and then he realizes it's Taehyung who bodily wrests his dog from Jeongguk's arms. He's crying, sobbing actually, burying his face into Yeontan's fluff. Yeontan is finally quiet, too busy licking the tears and snot off of Taehyung's face, his beautiful face. Jeongguk's breath catches in his throat.

Their eyes meet. This is it, where Taehyung tells him to leave, to never come back, asks him why he thought he had a right to come back here in the first place. He clears his throat and kicks at the cement beneath his sneakers. "Well, um. I guess, I should," Jeongguk starts. Pathetic, he knows. But here or home, he's the one with his tail tucked between his legs.

Taehyung is the one who almost knocks him over with a hug. Yeontan almost goes flying, and he's not much better off where he's squeezed between them. Taehyung isn't even trying to talk him down now that he's snarling and snapping at Jeongguk again. He's too busy rubbing his tear-soaked face into Jeongguk's bare shoulder.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Gukkie, I was so scared, thank you," he sobs. His hands are curling into fists against Jeongguk's back. His nails drag against Jeongguk's skin. Jeongguk can feel Taehyung's breath on his neck. He knows he shouldn't, but how does he stop himself? He's never wanted any of his exes the way he still wants Taehyung. He brings one hand to stroke gently at the back of Taehyung's neck, tangle in the hairs at the base of his head.

Taehyung should scream at him. He should shove him away. But he lets Yeontan slide from his arms to the ground so that he can wrap them both around Jeongguk. Jeongguk turns his head, unsure of what he'll find. Taehyung's face is still swollen from crying; Jeongguk cups a cheek in one hand. He swipes away a tear with his thumb. Taehyung just stares at him, mouth open, arms around his shoulders.

He should have asked first. Jeongguk thinks it with Taehyung's lower lip in his mouth. Taehyung has fisted a hand in his hair, and Jeongguk pulls Taehyung's waist in until he'll fall without Jeongguk's support. "Fuck, baby," Jeongguk moans into the kiss. Taehyung sobs again, but it sounds less distressed and more. More like the sobs that Jeongguk would wring from him in the cover of their bedroom. Taehyung pushes his hips forward, only finding the bony jut of Jeongguk's hip to rut against. It must be better than nothing because Taehyung frots like a crocodile on two legs. "Baby, talk to me," Jeongguk says.

"I missed you," Taehyung says without hesitation. Yeontan barks at them from the open doorway to the apartment. Maybe he's been barking at them the whole time. "I missed you so much, but I didn't call. I thought you were moving on, I thought you wouldn't even want to—to see me."

"I see you every night, hyung. I dream about you every night," Jeongguk tells him. Taehyung takes a shuddering breath into his open mouth and flicks his tongue out to lick at his lips. Jeongguk follows the movement avidly.

"Do you wanna come inside?" When Jeongguk looks back up into Taehyung's eyes, he's caught by the dark arousal there. He swallows thickly.

"I don't think your dog likes me very much."

Taehyung smiles, he finally smiles. Jeongguk's stomach does acrobatics. His lips are touching Jeongguk's when he takes him by the hand and says, "You can kick him out of the bedroom, if you want."

At least Jeongguk tries to shake his paw when he does it. "You're the worst wingman ever," Jeongguk hisses at him as Yeontan chews on his fingers, "but you get the job done." He closes the bedroom door behind him. Yeontan still does not shut the fuck up.

[queerbutstillhere]

Hey prompts lover, how about Jon gets turn into a toddler and Damian has to take care of him. Cue baby Jon letting his feeling out from in his little toddler way and Damian thinking they are just baby talk although he wants to believe them + batfam finding this situation hilarious

(Well hey ;) lol, your prompt is my command! This one ran away with me, so it's pretty long lol. So long, in fact, that I had to edit it bc Tumblr told me it was too long. Enjoy!)

"This is why i don't hang out with you, Batson!"

"Robin, look, I'm. Sorry!" Billy whined, trailing after him.

"DD!"

"Shush, Kent."

"Me hungry!"

"I understand," Damian bit out.

Then he yelped as a sharp pain came from his scalp. He shot a glare over to the toddler on his hip.

"Do not pull on my hair."

The toddler pouted, leaning in and pushing his face against Damian's neck.

"Do you think he'll be okay?"

"I don't know, Billy, you're the one with the magical powers, you figure it out."

"Damian, that's not fair."

"Not fair?! Billy, my best friend has just been turned into a two year old!!"

The teen caped crusader flinched away, looking away from Robin's deadly glare.

"Go figure out how to fix this, Batson," Damian grumbled, jumping in the batmobile which he had just summoned.

"Damian-"

Billy's protest was shut down when Damian snapped the lid of the car and zipped away. Jon was sat in the passenger seat, gripping tightly to the door and staring out the window.

"Wee!!" He exclaimed, looking back at Damian with this huge grin.

Damian almost smiled back, but instead focused on the road. He was headed to the batcave as he tore through the late night traffic, keeping an eye on Jon at all times. When he got to the cave, he hopped out, picking Jon up and balanced the Supertoddler on his hip. One think he had learned through his years of being Robin was how to handle kids. He wouldn't say he liked it, but he knew how to do it.

"Oh god, he's becoming you," a voice came from across the cave.

Damian looked up, searching for the voice and found Tim on the platform by the batcomputer. Jon pointed and made a high pitch noise that caused Damian to flinch away.

"Damian. What is that."

He looked even further up and found Bruce hanging from the rafters, sealing a hole in the wall.

"It's a toddler, father. I thought you of all people would know what a toddler was," Damian snarked back.

He pulled off his mask as he walked up the steps towards Tim. Jon whined and wiggled, chubby arms wrapped around Damian's neck.

"Where's my phone?" He asked Tim, walking over towards the table they usually left things on.

"I think you left it upstairs to charge, didn't you?"

Damian grumbled in response, grabbing Bruce's instead.

"Hey-" Tim started to protest.

"Batman!" Jon squealed, pointing as Bruce dropped down near them.

"Shh," Damian gently shushed him, bouncing him slightly to adjust his position on his hip.

"Damian?" Bruce questioned.

Damian just found the proper contact and was preparing to call it when Jon started floating out of his arms. With a sigh, he reached out, grabbing the red cape still attached to the toddler.

"Oh my God. Is that Jon?!" Tim exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Hi Tim!" Jon said in that little toddler voice of his, waving from his now upside down position.

"Kent. Come down," Damian ordered.

"Me fly!"

"I see that. Come back down here."

The toddler just stared at him.

"Jon."

When he still didn't stop floating, Damian reached out, grabbed his little legs and pulled him back down.

"What happened?" Bruce asked cautiously.

Damian sighed and began to explain how they were helping Billy and then something to do with magic happened and next thing Damian knew, Jon was a baby.

"And he still has his powers."

"Some of them, at least."

Tim was snickering, shoulders shaking, hand clamped over his mouth.

"You think this is funny?" Damian snapped, staring at him.

"I think it's hilarious!" Tim busted out laughing, which caused Jon, still floating to start giggling.

Then the toddler started falling. Damian easily caught him, pulling the toddler to his chest as a surge of fear shot through him.

"Well, you should probably call Clark."

"I was going to."

"Other then that, uh? Just keep an eye on him I guess."

Damian shot Bruce a glare. "I do know how to handle toddlers, Father."

Damian ended up changing and taking Jon upstairs after he started whining about being hungry. Alfred was in the kitchen, already informed of the situation. He handed Damian a vegan grilled cheese and had a PB and J ready for Jon.

"Alfie! Hiiiii!" Jon said eagerly, waving as he toddled into the kitchen.

"Hello, Master Kent," Alfred greeted, picking Jon up as putting him in a chair at the island.

"Me hungry!"

"Yes, and I have a fine meal prepared for you," he said, putting it and a glass of milk down in front of Jon.

The toddler grabbed the sandwich and began shoving it into his mouth. Damian watched with mild horror before beginning to eat his own sandwich. He still needed to call Clark.

"How old are you, Master Kent?" Alfred asked.

"Uhhhh," Jon frowned at him, peanut butter all over his face. "Dunno!"

"He still has all his memories and such," Damian commented. "As far as I can tell, anyway."

"Me like Dami!" Jon exclaimed, grinning at him with his peanut butter face.

"I- okay. I'm going to call your father."

Damian shoved the last bite in his mouth and then walked out, running up to his room and grabbing his phone. He called Clark and discovered the man was in Japan and simply got a "you'll have to watch him". So Damian went back downstairs to collect his toddler-bestfriend. Jon was getting tired and clung to Damian tightly, wrapping his arms around his neck, nearly choking Damian. The toddler yawned as Damian held him, chatting with his brothers, who had made their way upstairs, still in their uniforms.

"Dami," the toddler mumbled, his forehead pressed into Damian's cheek.

"Yes, Jonathan?"

"Me sleepy."

"Okay, you can go to sleep."

"You sleep with me?"

"I have work to do," Damian said, gently rubbing his back.

The batsiblings had gone quiet, watching them.

"Noooo," Jon whined, pulling away, grabbing Damian's cheeks. "You sleep with me!"

"Jon, no. I have to work."

The toddler stuck out his bottom lip and made a little sobbing noise.

"Uh oh, Damian look what you've done," Dick said, grinning.

"You-" the toddler broke off, whimpering as his eyes tearing up.

"Oh no," Damian said, just seconds before Jon started crying.

"Damian, you monster!" Tim exclaimed. Both brothers busted up laughing.

Jon, crying loudly, pushed against Damian, trying to get out of his arms.

"Jon quit!"

A loud wail met his words.

"Jonathan you're being unreasonable!"

Another loud wail. Jon shoved so hard he almost slipped out of Damian's grip.

"Damian, he's a toddler, that won't work," Dick told him with a headshake.

Damian adjusted Jon, balancing him on his hip.

"Okay! Okay! I'll go to bed with you, okay? Just stop crying! I'm sorry, okay?" Damian exclaimed, desperate to get the shrieking to stop.

Jon sobbed again, blinking at Damian through his tears, giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes ever.

"Okay?"

The toddler nodded, shoving his face into Damian's neck, hiccuping lightly. Damian sighed, looking up at his laughing brothers.

"I guess I'm going to bed."

"Night, baby bat!" Dick called as Damian carried Jon out.

Jon hiccuped all the way upstairs. Damian walked into his room, kicking the door shut behind him, flicking on a light.

"Okay, Superkid," Damian said, plopping the tiny toddler on the bed.

Compared to him, at 18, this toddler version of his best friend - normally 16 - was absolutely tiny. Like, just reached his knees. He was absolutely terrified of accidentally breaking him.

"Me no Superkid," Jon sniffled out, rubbing his snotty nose.

Damian made a disgusted nose and grabbed a Kleenex, wiping the snot. Jon just looked up at him, that bottom lip stuck out.

"Me Superboy."

"Yes you are," Damian said with a sigh, throwing away the Kleenex. He crouched in front of Jon. "We're gonna figure out how to get you changed back, okay? And hopefully before school on Monday."

Jon nodded.

"I'm gonna go brush my teeth, okay? Stay here. Play with Alfred."

The mentioned cat sauntered over, rubbing against Toddler Jon.

"Dami," Jon sniffed out.

"Yes?"

"I luv you."

Damian blinked at him, straightening.

"I. Uh. Okay."

His heart was pounding really hard. And he didn't know why. He escaped to the en suite bathroom, starting to brush his teeth. He could hear toddler Jon chattering to Alfred. Damian hastily scolded himself. He was a toddler at the moment, probably no more then three. He was just being a toddler, and toddler's didn't understand love like teenagers did. He shook his head and brushed it off.

Not that he didn't want it to be true.

After he washed his face and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to sleep in, he walked back out, finding Jon slumped on his side, tiredly patting Alfred's head. The cat just blinked up at Damian.

"Okay, Jon. Time to go to bed," he said, ruffling the kids hair before going to turn off the overhead light.

It wasn't the first time he had shared a bed with Jon. Just usually, Jon was larger then him. He got under the covers, and toddler Jon wiggled his way up to the top of the bed, crawling under the thick blankets.

"Good night, Jon," Damian said.

He fully intended to slip away once the toddler went to sleep. Instead, Jon crawled over and flopped on top of Damian's chest, getting comfortable. Damian groaned slightly, confused.

"Me sleep here."

"Jon, that can't be comfortable."

"Me sleep here!"

"Okay."

Who knew a toddler version of Jon could be so convincing. Jon reached up, squishing Damian's cheeks again.

"Dami, I luv you," he said again, looking sincere.

"Okay," Damian breathed out, reaching up and ruffling little Jon's hair. "Go to sleep."

The toddler scowled at him but laid back down, his little arms hugging Damian's chest. Damian sighed, placing a hand on his back, holding him still while he reached over and flicked off the bedside lamp. Then he settled on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

Toddler Jon loved him. But did Teen Jon?

Why were emotions so complicated?

Damian eventually drifted to sleep, an arm wrapped protectively around toddler Jon. This was a horribly weird situation, but he supposed they could figure it out in the morning.

He woke up to a sudden massive increase of weight on his chest. He groaned in pain and shoved at it.

"Quit pushing!"

Damian snapped his eyes open, finding Jonathan Kent, sixteen, mere inches from his face.

"Kent!"

"Well duh, who else?" Jon grumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

"You're back!"

"Yeah?"

Jon crossed his arms on Damian's chest, resting his chin on his forearms.

"And you're incredibly heavy," Damian said, scowling now.

"Rude!"

Jon grinned at him and Damian glared back. Then he became aware of Jon's lower half laying in between his legs, his stomach pressing on-

"Okay, get off!" Damian snapped, easily flipping his weight to one side and throwing Jon off.

Jon laughed as he was tossed onto his back.

"Aw, come on, Dames, admit it, you're glad I'm back."

Damian just grumbled under his breath. Jon grinned, reaching over and pinching his side.

"Don't be a butt."

"You need to call your father."

"Hmm. What if I'd rather talk to you first."

"Kent."

"What if I start crying? That seemed to work so well the last time."

Damian tensed. "How much do you remember?"

"Oh, quite a bit," Jon said, his voice dropping. "I remember your heart going crazy when I said I loved you."

Damian was opening his mouth to respond when the door slammed open.

"Damian! I think the spell wore- oh."

Both teens snapped their gaze over to Billy Batson, in Shazam form, staring at the two of them, laying in bed together.

"Well... i guess you already knew that," Billy said, stepping backwards.

"Good assumption, Batson," Damian said coldly, eyes rolling.

"I'm just. . . I'll go. Hey Jon."

"Hi Billy," Jon said, laughing to himself.

Billy quickly retreated.

"Have I ever told you that i like him?"

"Go back to sleep, Jon," Damian grumbled, kicking his shins.

He rolled onto his side, glaring at the wall. Jon laughed, and then suddenly pressed himself against Damian's back, an arm slipping over his waist.

"I meant it," he murmured.

"Wait, what!"

[odinsonsobsessed]

Beautifully Complicated || Chapter 15: Moving On

A Tom Hiddleston x OFC Matchmaker AU series by @odinsonsobsessed and @mrshiddleston-uk

Kate Rees just wants some romance in her life, but she hasn’t had the most pleasant dating history. After yet another date gone wrong, she nearly gives up until her work colleague mentions a matchmaking website she’d seen an ad for. Little does she know, the mystery man she’s been matched with is handsome, rising star, Tom Hiddleston. And that’s when things get complicated.

Rated M (18+) || Word Count: 7.3k || Warnings: Swearing, NSFW

A/N: Look what miraculous thing happened this week! Another update! This chapter was another emotionally rough one to write, but it had to be done! I was made aware that the last chapter should have come with a tissue warning, so here it is! This chapter may require tissues, so please have some readily available during visual consumption. Enjoy! ;)

You can also find us on AO3:

@odinsonsobsessed - Mischievousbellerina

@mrshiddleston-uk - Crimson_peak

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The sound of Bobby's distant bark from outside snapped Tom's blank stare at the door, pulling him out of his state of shock. He took a deep breath and let it out before making his way over to the back door to let his dog inside. He'd let him out just before Kate got there in preparation for their lunch date, which he assumed would take a while. How long had he left him outside for? 

The moment Tom opened the door, Bobby raced inside, sniffing around and lingering near the front door as he caught on to Kate's scent. He lifted his head to follow Tom's movement across the living room to plop onto the couch. As if sensing his owner's distress, Bobby trotted over to him and sat at his feet, looking up at him curiously. When Tom didn't acknowledge him like he always did with a smile and scoop him up, Bobby let out a low whine and jumped onto the couch next to him. He curled up next to his side and put his head on Tom's lap, laying there quietly while Tom continuously replayed his break up with Kate. This wasn’t part of the plan for today, this wasn’t supposed to happen. It had come so out of the blue… He thought he and Kate were happy, he thought they were in love. He didn’t know she‘d been thinking something completely different. He knew Charlotte was a touchy subject, but all the other stuff Kate had said about him never being around… he had no idea. Why hadn’t she told him it was all getting too much? She'd always assure him that she was fine, but… had he really made her suffer?

Tom should never have let her leave. He should have tried harder to make her stay, so they could talk and work it out. But he’d been so surprised when she’d told him that she was breaking up with him that he couldn’t think straight. It was like he’d gone into shock. Why had he let her go? His eyes darted around the room in search of his phone. He couldn’t see it anywhere.

“Where the fuck is it?” He growled, launching himself off the sofa, causing Bobby to bark in surprise and run off. He stormed towards the kitchen and straight away he caught sight of his phone lying on the counter. Snatching it up, he tapped at it impatiently, pausing only briefly to check his email notification - details of his flight to America in the next couple of days. Fuck, he was flying out of the country to look at apartments to rent short term while he was filming the movie. Right now he didn’t give a shit about flights, apartments or movies, his thoughts were only filled with Kate. His fingers moved quickly over the screen as he called up her number and let it ring. As he lifted the phone to his ear he realised his hands were shaking. He was a huge ball of nervous energy, shifting from foot to foot as he waited for the call to connect. 

“Hi, this is Kate. I can’t take your call right now, so please leave a message!”

Tom cursed under his breath and ended the call quickly. He didn’t want to leave a message, he wanted to talk to her, ask her to reconsider. God, he’d beg if he had to. He waited another minute before pressing redial and started to pace the kitchen, praying that maybe Kate had just been out of range and that this time it would miraculously ring, rather than going straight to voicemail. But as Kate’s cheerful voicemail message cut in again, he groaned in frustration and hung up again. 

Maybe she just needed some time alone? It wasn’t unreasonable for her to have turned her phone off after what had just happened between them… perhaps he should respect that and leave her alone for a bit. 

Tom sighed, running a hand through his hair as he reasoned with himself.

Maybe if he gave her a couple of days to think about everything, she’d realize how much she missed him? What was that saying? If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they’re yours, and if they don’t, they never were… 

Tom shook his head at the thought, tears back and ready to fall.

This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be the end. He just needed to give Kate a couple of days to get her head straight, and if she hadn’t called him by the time he arrived in LA, he would call her again. He just had to try and stop himself from going crazy until then.

The next couple of days were hell. He fought himself every step of the way not to pick up that phone and call Kate. But he promised himself to give her some time. That and he needed to sort through his own thoughts to be able to speak with her properly.

The night before he left for America, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. After settling on his side, his hand splayed across the empty side of the bed, the side where Kate slept. There was still a faint trace of her perfume on the pillow. He stroked softly over the sheets as he thought about how he loved waking up with her. The way she’d blink sleepily at him and immediately reach for him, nuzzling into his neck as her breath tickled his ear. His bed was so cold without her. He let out a shaky breath which caught in his throat as a tear trickled down his cheek and hit the pillow. He missed her so much his body actually hurt. 

Tom must have eventually fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, his phone was ringing on the cabinet next to his bed. He groaned and rolled over, groping around with his eyes still closed until his hands closed around his phone. He squinted at the display and swiped the screen across, "Yeah.” He mumbled, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light streaming through the cracks in his curtains. What time was it?

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hiddleston. Just confirming I will be there to pick you up in an hour." His driver replied politely.

An hour? But he wasn’t going until three o'clock that afternoon … Tom turned his head to glance at the clock in confusion and his eyes widened as he bolted upright,  “Fuck." He cursed under his breath. It was nearly two o'clock. 

“Is everything okay, Mr. Hiddleston?”

“Yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. I’ll see you in an hour.” He said quickly and hung up, dropping his phone on the bed. He threw the covers back and swung his legs off the side, getting to his feet and hurriedly grabbing his suitcase from the cupboard. He had to pack, shower, drop Bobby at the dog sitters, and be back in an hour. Yet still in his panic to get himself sorted, all he could think about was Kate. When he got in the shower, her shower gel was on the shelf.  When he opened his cupboard to get out a clean sweater, one of Kate’s blouses was hanging there. When he went to get Bobby's lead to run him around to the sitters, Kate’s umbrella was standing by the front door. She was everywhere. 

The drive to the airport from Tom’s house didn’t take long thankfully, as surprisingly Tom wasn’t ready when his driver arrived. It was nearly a quarter to four when they left and Tom’s manager Luke spent the first ten minutes of the journey reprimanding him for his timekeeping. Tom was sure he wouldn’t have been so hard on him if he’d just told him why, but he wasn’t ready. He didn’t think he could bring himself to utter those words - 

Kate and I have split up. 

Instead, he just stared into his lap and nodded at the appropriate moments as Luke ran through his itinerary for when they landed in L.A.. They pulled up in front of the departures terminal at Heathrow and climbed out of the car, helping the driver with their luggage. As he stood on the pavement, Tom habitually patted his jeans pocket to check for his phone, and his blood ran cold. His pockets were empty. 

“My phone.” He stuttered.

“What’s that?” Luke replied, walking towards him after waving their driver off.

“My phone, it’s still at home. It’s on the bed where I left it when I woke up. Dammit! Get him back!!!” Tom gestured after his car which was now almost out of sight, heading towards the exit. He turned towards Luke with distress clear on his face. “Luke, get him back here! I need my phone!”

He could feel panic rising in his chest. He couldn’t go without his phone. What if Kate tried to call? Shit, he was meant to be calling her after he'd gotten situated at his hotel! He couldn’t leave without it. 

“Mate, we don’t have time! Come on!” Luke was pulling on his arm, practically dragging him onto the terminal.

Conscious of not drawing attention to himself, Tom tried to resist as he pulled back against Luke. “ I need my phone, I-"

“Tom." Luke interrupted him, fixing him with a stern glare. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but we’re already late! We do not have time to go back and get your phone, okay?”

Tom could see people glancing at them as they walked past, and it was only a matter of time before someone recognised him, and he really didn’t need any more shit to deal with today. He reluctantly started to follow Luke towards the terminal. As they were guided through the VIP check in, his manager sighed and shook his head as he caught Tom's deep frown. "Look, we're so close to missing this flight as it is and I really need you to work with me here. You can just use my phone when we arrive in L.A. if it's so important."

Tom didn’t know Kate’s number, not off by heart anyway. “Do you have Kate’s number?” He asked him, already knowing the answer. By now they were being guided along a corridor towards the plane which was already boarding.

“No. Is that what’s got you so antsy? Because you won’t be able to talk to Kate? Just send her an email, tell her you’ve forgotten your phone." Luke replied nonchalantly as they were shown to their seats and stowed their bags in the overhead compartments.

“You don’t understand, it’s not as simple as that. I need to talk to her. I…" 

Tom stopped and huffed irritatedly as he threw himself down into his seat as Luke sat down next to him and chuckled. “You really have got it bad, haven’t you?!”

Tom scowled and turned his head to glare out the window his head a mixture of frustration and anger. Luke didn’t know the half of it.

The moment Tom landed in L.A., he wanted to jump on the next plane back to London and see Kate. How could he have been so stupid? So careless? And why the fuck didn't he memorize Kate's number? He was an actor for God's sake, he was brilliant at remembering lines, so why not a simple phone number? Perhaps he thought he'd never need to, as it was easy to scroll through his phone and click on her name. He should have memorized it or wrote it down anyway and stuck it in his wallet, in case of an emergency. God he couldn't think straight when it came to that woman. However, if he didn't at least screw his head on straight while he was there, he would be miserable during his stay while filming if he didn't pay attention and pick the right apartment. Not that he was exceptionally picky, but he was going to be there for months. His stomach turned at the thought. He should be used to this by now, he'd done it plenty of times. But it was different this time. Kate was in the equation now. Or, she was. He wanted her to be.

Why did this have to happen now? Of all the times, it had to happen just before this damn movie. His time to fix this was narrow before things would get even more complicated. And here he was halfway across the world looking at bloody apartments. Tom was so close to snapping at Luke when they pulled up to the tenth complex. He wanted to tell him to just pick one for him and be done with it so that he could go home. He was tired, he was antsy and just fed up. 

He tried to turn his mood positive and pass the time on the plane ride back by thinking that he might come home to texts and voicemails about Kate making a mistake and wanting to talk. Maybe the last few days of a break gave her enough time to think it over and reconsider?

By the time Tom flew into Heathrow, made it back into town and picked Bobby up from the sitters, it was getting late and he was wiped from the travel and time change. There was no way it'd be a good idea to go and see Kate until he had gotten some sleep in an actual bed. When he returned home, he eagerly checked his bedroom for his phone, finding it on the bed where he'd left it and quickly plugged it in, as it was long dead after having been abandoned for a week. Once his phone had enough juice, he powered it on and waited for his notifications to come through. There were dozens - of course - but the more he scrolled through them, the more disappointed he had become until finally he'd gone through every message, email, and voicemail. That's when his heart sank. Nothing from Kate.

Why hadn't she called, or even texted? She was clearly devastated when she broke up with him, it was clear she cared for him, but he couldn't help but wonder what this meant… Was she moving on? 

He had to find out tomorrow. 

Tom had to make sure he was there for when Kate finished work. On his way to the museum, he stopped at a florist in to get her some flowers. He spent quite some time studying the various bouquets, wanting to pick something perfect. Should he go all out and pick the biggest arrangement they had or should he go for something a little more understated and subtle? After standing there pondering for what seemed like ages, he picked a small bouquet of roses, chamelias, lavender and eucalyptus.

The closer Tom got to the museum, the more nervous and anxious he got to see her again. How would she react to him showing up out of the blue? Would she like the flowers? Would she throw her arms around him and tell him that she missed him? Or would she ignore him and walk the other way? Thinking back, he probably should have called her first… but there was no backing out now. 

With the bouquet of flowers in hand and having just turned onto the street, he saw the museum come into view. Just another minute and he'd be there. Just one more corner and across the street. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he glanced at the bouquet and smiled. He knew roses were Kate’s favourite flower and she had a little window box of Lavender in her flat, so he was quietly confident the flowers would be perfect. As he rounded the corner opposite the museum, he stopped dead. 

There, waiting outside the exit, leaning casually against the wall was Zack. No. No, no, no, NO. He couldn’t talk to Kate while Zack was there! Tom tried to think quickly. Maybe he could duck around to the other side of the museum and try to catch Kate before Zack got to her? Suddenly out the corner of his eye he saw the door to the museum open, and Kate emerged with Roxy. 

Seeing her again was like a dagger straight through his heart. His stomach flipped as he watched the two women share a brief exchange before laughing. Kate gave Roxy a wave goodbye, and turned towards Zack. As she approached him, Zack pushed himself off the wall and smiled at her, opening his arms and hugging her for several moments. He frowned, trying to lip read what Zack was saying, but with his face half obscured by Kate’s hair it was impossible. 

Tom took a couple of small steps back as Kate and Zack started to walk away from him, Kate linking her arm through Zack's, both of them completely oblivious to the disappointed, broken man standing there watching them from the pavement opposite them. As they disappeared from sight, merging into the other crowds of people making their way home in the rush hour, Tom turned away and began to walk slowly back home, his head down and his shoulders slumped. 

Of course she was going to be spending time with Zack. Tom wasn’t his biggest fan but he was Kate’s best friend and obviously one of the first people she would have turned to when they broke up. Tom tried to ignore the thoughts of Kate and Zack spending their evenings together, curled up on her sofa eating takeaways and talking for hours, almost certainly about him. How much had Kate told him? What advice had Zack given her? Perhaps she was okay without him, perhaps she was already over him and enjoying being single again, spending time with her friends and go out and do whatever she wanted. The thought of Kate having forgotten about him already made Tom feel sick.

Arriving home, Tom wandered aimlessly towards his kitchen with the flowers still in his hand. He looked down at them, wondering what to do with them. He ended up just sticking them in a jug of water and leaving them on the counter while he busied himself making some dinner and seeing to Bobby, and definitely not thinking about Kate.

The next week was a blur of final meetings and arrangements before Tom left for LA to start filming. Yet still Tom’s thoughts were all consumed by Kate. He still hadn’t heard from her, and he’d been so ridiculously busy that he hadn’t even had a moment to himself to try and speak to her again. But he knew that he couldn’t leave without seeing her, without trying to make this right. By Thursday evening he finally had some time to himself and he knew exactly what he had to do. It was time for someone to make a move and possibly sort this out, or at least be able to put it past them.

He knew Kate would be at home that night, she never liked to go out too much during the week as her job was so busy that she preferred to spend weekday evenings just relaxing and unwinding. Checking the time as he pulled his jacket on, Tom was sure she would be home by now - it was nearly eight o'clock. The flowers from a week ago had become a brown, wilted mess and since then been thrown out, so he decided to stop by the supermarket on his way to Kate’s flat and pick up a bottle of wine instead. They could sit down, have a drink and talk this all through. They could make this right. Picking up his keys and his phone from the side, Tom hesitated - should he call her first? No, he was past the point of wanting to call her, he needed to see her. If he called first, would she just ignore his call or refuse to answer the door, knowing he'd just try to reach her? He wanted to catch her off guard, so he could gage her true reaction to seeing him. They’d be fine, it was all going to work out, he was sure of it. 

Tom walked quickly down the road towards Camden. It was a relatively short distance and he figured the walk would help him get things straight in his head and work through all the things he wanted to say. His only stop was at Tesco to get the wine. He took his time in choosing the right bottle - a nice Rioja, not too dry because Kate hated dry wine. She would screw her face up and shiver as she swallowed, and Tom had thought it was adorable and hilarious all at once. Clutching the bottle tightly and still smiling to himself as he remembered Kate’s dislike of dry wine, he made his way towards the till. Tom was paying very little attention to people around him and distracted by his thoughts, until he knocked into someone and nearly sent the wine smashing to the ground.

“Oh, I’m so sorry." He mumbled, regaining his grip on the bottle and looking up at the person he had pretty much head on collided with. As their eyes met, both their expressions turned from apologetic to something a little darker. They stared at each other for a moment before the other man spoke first.

“Hello Tom.” Zack said, his face straight and hint of disapproval in his voice.

“Zack… Hi.” Tom stuttered, taken aback at seeing him again. Real smooth, Tom.

They stood in silence for a few seconds, almost squaring up to each other, although Tom had a good few inches on Zack. The air was loaded, filled with things both men wanted to say to each other yet neither started to speak. Eventually Tom shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his head.

“How, um… How are you?”

Zack observed him silently for a few more moments before he replied flatly, “I’m fine."

“And Kate?” The words were out of Tom’s mouth before he could stop himself. He inwardly cursed as he tried to read Zack's expression but he remained straight faced. 

“She’s fine, too. I’m actually just on my way back to her place now, I’ve just popped out to grab a few bits for dinner. I’ve been staying with her, you see.” He added smugly, with a small smile.

“Right.” Tom mumbled. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to think. Zack had completely thrown him. He could usually handle situations like this easily but right now he was at a loss for words and feeling irrationally intimidated by the guy. 

“I can only assume that’s where you were heading next, too." Zack said, glancing down at the bottle that Tom was gripping so hard, his knuckles were turning white.

“I… um…"

Zack took a step towards Tom, “Let me save you a trip, mate. She’s not interested. Don’t humiliate yourself by going round there and begging for her to take you back. You were too stupid to see what an amazing woman you had and now it’s too late. You let her go and she’s better off without you.”

Zack looked him up and down one more time and stepped back, bending over to pick up his basket and starting to walk away.

“But I didn’t want any of this! She broke up with me!” Tom blurted. 

Zack stopped and turned back to Tom. “She did. And she’s moved on. She doesn’t need you anymore."

“Are you…” Tom started as Zack walked away without looking back. Now he understood - Kate had moved on and he was pretty sure she’d moved on with Zack.

By the time Zack got back from the shop, Kate had decided that he needed to go home tonight. It was time for her to be brave and get on with her life without Tom. She reminded herself that this was her doing, so she had to deal with the consequences. That didn’t mean it hurt any less, or that it was going to be easy. But she couldn’t keep relying on Zack anymore. She’d nearly single handedly ruined their lifelong friendship earlier tonight and as soon as he walked back through the door she began apologizing again, even more so when she noticed how on edge he seemed to be as he busied himself preparing their food.

“Kate, honestly, it’s okay. I understand." He assured her as he emptied ingredients into the saucepan for their stir fry. Kate hovered nervously as he stared at the pan, seemingly avoiding eye contact with her.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Zack sighed and finally looked at her, “I guess we’re both feeling a little weird after earlier, and then when I was at the shops I ran into…” He paused and glanced at the floor.

“Into who?” Kate pressed him to finish.

Looking back up at her, Zack shook his head, “Just this guy I know, but don’t really like. It was nothing. Don’t worry about it, it’s not important.” He reached out and patted her shoulder reassuringly “Go grab me some plates, this is just about ready."

Thinking nothing more of it, Kate laid some plates out on the table and opened a bottle of wine as Zack served their food and they sat down to eat. They chatted for a while about work and the series they’d just finished watching on Netflix and as they fell silent again, Kate knew she had to broach the subject of Zack going home.

“Hey, Zack? I was thinking earlier…”

Zack looked up and her and frowned, “Wow, did it hurt?” He smirked and Kate giggled as she tried to kick him under the table. 

“Stop it, I’m being serious!”

Zack put his knife and fork down and leaned back in his chair, picking up his glass and taking a sip, “Sorry, Sorry! Do go on. You were thinking…?”

“Maybe it’s time for me to be me again. I can’t keep you here with me forever in case I have a wobble. I think perhaps you should go home.”

Zack watched Kate intently before nodding slowly “Yeah, I mean, if you’re sure? I don’t mind saying here with you for as long as you want me to.”

Kate reached across the table and squeezed his forearm, “I know, and I really appreciate it and it’s been great having you here. But I think it’s time I try to get back to a normal life without you holding my hand the whole time."

Zack smiled and closed his hand over hers, “But just remember I’m always here to hold your hand if you need me to, okay? I’m only ever a phone call away.”

Kate felt tears stinging at her eyes as she smiled at her best friend. After everything she’d done earlier, he was still so understanding and supportive. He was her best friend.

“Thank you, Zack.”

They ate the rest of their dinner and then Kate helped Zack pack up the few of his bits that were scattered around her flat. He stayed for a little while longer while they finished off the bottle of wine and watched a couple of episodes of Friends, and by then it was quite late. They said their goodbyes and after agreeing to talk the next day as they usually did, Zack was gone and Kate was alone. She could do this. Life went on, with or without Tom.

For the next couple of weeks, life did indeed go on, and Kate started to believe she was getting through this. She started to smile more, laugh more. She realised she wasn’t thinking about Tom quite as much. He was still there, firmly in her mind and she still missed him like crazy, but it was bearable so she was taking that as a positive. 

When the text came, Kate was thirty seven pages deep in an article about lace preservation, her glasses propped on top of her head and her pen in her mouth as she chewed on it absentmindedly. When her phone bleeped she glanced at it disinterestedly, before going back to her article. Suddenly her eyes went wide and she looked back to her phone as her brain registered who the message was from. She made a noise which resembled a cross between a suffocating whale and a strangled cat, starting to flap her hands erratically as she stared at the screen. Opposite her, Roxy looked up in confusion,

“What the fuck? You okay there girl?”

“Tom!” Kate stuttered, “I’ve got a text from Tom!”

Suddenly taking more interest, Roxy bolted upright, “Shit! What does it say?”

Standing up so quickly that her chair tipped over backwards, Kate started pacing the small area around her desk “I don’t know!”

Roxy laughed at her, "Well, don't you think you ought to take a look?"

"Well yes, but…" Kate glanced at her phone again and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Do you want me to read it?” Roxy asked, getting up and walking around to Kate’s desk.

“Yes… no... Oh fuck, I don’t know!” Kate ran her hand through her hair as Roxy picked her chair up and guided her back down onto it. "It's-It's been over a month since I've heard from him! And-"

“Kate, breathe.” She picked up her phone and held it towards her, “Read the text."

Kate took a deep breath and gingerly took the phone from Roxy, who then perched on the edge of her desk with her arms folded, watching Kate. Her hands were shaking as she unlocked her phone and opened the message.

Hi Kate, I hope you’re well. I’ve found a few of your things at my house and was wondering if you needed them. I could drop them round tonight? Tom.

Kate turned her screen around and held it out to Roxy. She read the text and raised an eyebrow as she looked back at Kate, “So what’s your answer? Did you leave stuff at his house?”

Kate shrugged, “Probably. I think there’s a blouse and I think I left one of my umbrellas…? Maybe some shower gel and a toothbrush?”

Roxy nodded, waiting for Kate to go on. All Kate could do was stare at her phone and try to control her breathing. This was the first contact her and Tom had had since their breakup. 

“What do I say?” She squeaked, looking back to Roxy.

"Well, do you want your things back?"

"I mean… it would be nice to have them, yes."

"An even bigger question… Do you want to see him?"

Kate blew out a deep breath and tipped her head back, closing her eyes. After a moment she opened them again and looked at her friend, “I think I do want to see him.”

Roxy eyed her cautiously, “Do you want me to come back to yours with you so I can be there when he comes round?”

Kate shook her head, “It’s okay, Rox. I need to do this alone. Maybe we can talk. Maybe…” She paused and shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m getting my hopes up for nothing.” 

"Just meet with him and see what happens. He's going away to film for a while, right? Don't regret passing up an opportunity to see him before he leaves."

"You're right." Kate hit reply and quickly typed out a message.

Hi Tom. If you could drop them over tonight that would be great. I’ll be home at the usual time. Kate.

Tom’s response was almost instant.

No problem. See you later.

Kate didn’t get to page thirty eight of her article. She spent the rest of the afternoon unable to concentrate, her head filled with thoughts about that evening. Were her things just an excuse for Tom to see her? Was he going to tell her how much he missed her and beg her to reconsider? Again her head fought her heart as she desperately hoped he might ask her to work things out and then she reminded herself there was a reason she’d done all this in the first place. She was just starting to get over him, and this meeting could wreck everything. 

Despite all this, she found herself ducking out of work early and rushing home as quickly as she could so that she could get changed and touch up her hair and make up. She didn't want to regret refusing him, just as Roxy had said.

Kate sat impatiently on the sofa, fidgeting constantly and checking the time, wondering when he would arrive. When her bell finally rang, she practically sprinted to the door. She checked her reflection in the mirror and took several deep breaths to try and calm her nerves. Slowly, she opened the door and there he was. 

“Hi.” He gave her half a smile.

“Hi.” Kate replied, as she tried to focus on her breathing. He looked as incredible as ever, even in a simple navy sweater and dark jeans. She stepped back, opening the door wider and gesturing for him to come in. He moved forwards into the flat and Kate closed the door behind him, following him towards the living room where he was standing, looking a little uncomfortable. He turned as she walked towards him and held out a bag.

“I’ve been packing and getting ready to go to LA, that’s when I found your things.”

Kate took the bag from him, the tips of their fingers just brushing against each other, but still sending that familiar spark through Kate’s body. As she made eye contact with him, she was hit with a longing of being able to wake up to those beautiful blue eyes staring back at her. When his fingers would skim across her hip and light up her whole body. When a soft smile would stretch across his features and whisper that sexy little Good morning, Kate.

“I think that’s everything.” Tom added, pulling her from her thoughts. Oh God, she had been staring. She realized he wasn’t smiling. In fact his, expression seemed solemn and emotionless.

“Thanks.” Kate replied, cheeks tinted pink. As he plunged his hands into his pockets, he looked around the room uneasily. 

Come on Kate, say something! 

“So, when do you leave?”

“Friday, so just a couple of days away now."

“Exciting.” Kate added, although she didn’t mean it. It was selfish, but she didn't want him to go.  She didn't want him to go and get on with his life. She wanted him to miss her as much as she missed him and that he wanted to work things out.

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.” Tom replied, yet he seemed not to think so either.

Kate watched him silently for a few minutes as his eyes darted around the room before settling on the floor. God, this was awkward. She’d never seen Tom like this before, even when they first met and they hardly knew each other. Was he just as nervous as her? She didn’t know what else to say or do. 

Should she bring up their relationship and the last time they saw each other? Perhaps they needed some alcohol to loosen them both up a bit. Tom didn’t look like he was in a rush to leave, yet at the same time he didn’t really look like he wanted to be there. Kate knew him well enough to be pretty certain there was something else he wanted to say though.

“Would you like a drink?” She asked.

Tom looked up from whatever he had been staring at so intently on her carpet and half smiled again. “No, thank you. I really can’t stay, but I needed to say something. Can we sit down for a moment?” He gestured towards the sofa and Kate nodded. Silently, they both moved towards it and Tom waited as Kate sat down before sitting on the edge of the sofa opposite her. 

Kate’s emotions started to build and get the better of her. Was he about to declare his undying love for her? Was that why he was being so weird, because he was nervous? Did he think she was going to reject him?

She watched expectantly as Tom picked at his thumbnail, like he didn’t know where to start. After a few moments he eventually spoke. “Listen, Kate, I…" He took a long pause, "I just wanted to say that there’s no hard feelings.”

Kate’s stomach dropped as she looked at him as he continued “It’s good that you’ve moved on, and I’m pleased for you. I only ever wanted you to be happy and I honestly hope that everything works out for you." Tom finally looked up at her, meeting her gaze. “I really do mean that from the bottom of my heart. You’re one of the sweetest, most caring people I’ve ever met and you deserve the world. I genuinely wish you nothing but the best. I guess some things just aren’t meant to be and you know, you have to accept that and move forwards, and we’re both doing that." He paused and shrugged, “So… yeah. I just wanted to say that.” 

“I…” Kate tried to talk but she couldn’t. Tears started to prick at her eyes as she realized that today hadn’t been about Tom wanting her back, it had been about Tom wanting closure. She couldn't break down again, not in front of him and especially not after the speech he’d just given her. His expression remained stoic as he sniffed and got to his feet. He looked towards the door, avoiding eye contact with her again. 

“I should probably get going. I have a lot to do before leaving.”

Kate knew if she tried to say anything she’d just break down, so instead she nodded and stood up, following him towards the door. He paused with his hand on the handle and looked back at her, and she wasn’t sure if there were tears in his eyes too. 

“Goodbye Kate." 

He opened the door and ducked out, closing it again behind him as Kate stood there speechless. God, she was so stupid. Why had she let herself believe that they were going to get back together? She thumped her fists on the door with a frustrated shout before turning around and leaning back against it, sliding to the floor as the tears started to spill down her cheeks. 

Kate couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this. After her meeting with Tom a couple of days ago, she felt like she’d taken two steps backwards in her efforts to get over him. In an attempt to cheer her up and take her mind off it, Roxy and Zack had decided to take her out for the evening. As she stood at the counter of the packed bar waiting to be served, she wished she’d never allowed them to talk her into it. Her dress was too tight, her heels were too high, and her make up was too heavy. She just wanted to go home and change into her tracksuit bottoms, pull her hair up into a messy ponytail and fall asleep on the sofa watching reruns of Friends. The only saving grace for the evening was the cheap alcohol, and even that wasn’t really raising any enthusiasm in her. But she would try and enjoy herself for the sake of her friends, after everything they’d done for her over the last few weeks, it was only fair. And while she just wasn't feeling it, she appreciated the gesture.

Finally making her way to the front of the queue, Kate ordered their drinks and fought her way back over to the table where Roxy and Zack were deep in conversation, giggling away together like a couple of school kids. For every one drink Kate had, that pair had had two, and they were well on their way to being pretty drunk. Kate was taking things much slower, not trusting herself to get too over emotional if she got drunk. The last thing she wanted to do was end up calling or texting Tom with some declaration of drunken unrequited love. 

As she squeezed into her seat, Roxy nudged her with a grin. “That guy over there has been watching you all night.” 

Kate looked in the direction of Roxy's inebriated pointing, and caught the eye of a dark haired man standing near the DJ. He smiled and winked at her, but Kate quickly looked away again.

“You should go talk to him!" Roxy encouraged.

“Too soon Rox, too soon.” Interrupted Zack, taking another sip of his beer. 

Roxy turned to him, frowning. “It’s just harmless fun! It’s not like she has to marry him or anything!”

Roxy turned back to Kate, waiting for her to say something. She shook her head and stared into her wine, “Zack’s right, Roxy. It’s too soon. I can’t…..” She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She was not going to cry in the middle of this packed out bar. “I just don’t feel ready for that yet - any of that. Not even talking.”

“Let’s dance then!” Zack bellowed, spreading his arms wide. Kate rolled her eyes as Roxy cheered and stood up. Before she knew it she was being pulled to her feet. 

“Guys. Guys, wait!" She raised her voice a bit so she could be heard over the music as Zack tried to spin her around. "I think I’m gonna call it a night.” 

Zack stopped and looked at her sadly, “But it’s only early!”

“Zack, it’s gone midnight. My feet are killing me and I’m pretty tired.” She looked between her two friends as they pouted at her like sulking children. “You two should stay here and enjoy yourselves."

"No, I'm walking you home." Zack made a movement for his jacket, but Kate put her hand on his forearm. 

"It's okay, Zack, really. Don't make Roxy party here by herself. You should stay and have fun."

After studying her for a moment, his shoulders relaxed as he sighed. “Will you be okay walking home on your own?” Zack was so protective, always looking out for her.

Kate reached for him and gave him a hug, “I’ll be fine. I could do with the fresh air."

“Text me as soon as you’re home." Roxy butted in, shoving Zack to one side so she could hug Kate, too. A few minutes later after a few more reassurances that she would be ok, Kate was finally on her way home, walking barefoot with her shoes in her hand. 

Within ten minutes she was home, dropping her shoes by the front door and heading straight for her bedroom to peel off that damn dress and get into her comfy clothes. She took her contact lenses out and pulled her hair up into a bun on the top of her head and collapsed on the sofa with a satisfied moan. 

Reaching for her phone, she sent Roxy a text to say she was home safely, and then started to scroll half heartedly through the days news. Politics, crime, celebrity gossip, just the usual stuff. Kate kept scrolling until one story made her freeze. Before she could stop herself she’d clicked on the article and was staring at a photo of Tom. Her eyes skimmed over the caption underneath -

Upon arriving in LA, Tom Hiddleston looks tired and miserable from his long flight from London, but the moment he sees his costar, Charlotte Harper, he's all smiles.

Kate drew in a breath as she continued reading - the article went on to describe how Tom had looked glum as he few out of London that morning but was met by Charlotte at LAX where he was suddenly seeming to be in a good mood as they greeted each other affectionately. Kate looked at the photos, examining them closely. Tom was practically beaming as Charlotte approached him. The following photo of them hugging made Kate’s stomach turn. She threw her phone down on the sofa and bit her lip, fighting back yet more tears. Only two days ago, Tom had told her he’d moved on, and this was obviously what he meant. Tom had moved on with Charlotte.

@fandom-and-feminism @fadingcoast @igotloki @nikkalia @manager-of-mischief @spidey-bites @dangertoozmanykids101 @xxloki81xx @furstinnajoelle @just-the-hiddles @wholelottatiffy @libbymouse @kitsuneharo12 @michelegurl @I-cant-remember-my-old-login @thathedonistgirl @vethrvolnir2 @fairlightswiftly @jessiejunebug @ihthr @devilbat @exbandragirl @joyofbebbanburg @sabine-leo @mandapanda8 @officiallyunofficialperson @wolfsmom1 @littlefrogstuff @writingmi @drakesfiance @scorpionchild81 @little-moonbeam--666 @canadianjelly @originalsoulcollector @gorgeous1974 @teylacarter91 @stubby-toe-589331 @kcd15 @sterwild

[peachessashaven]

Who Do You Love - Joe Mazzello x Reader

Synopsis: Joe's been distant lately with you, you're confused on why. Let's hope he can own up soon on why.

Words: 3.7k

Warning: like one swear word, reader be confused af

A/N: yall my best friend wrote this masterpiece its better than ive ever written but she cant be fucked putting it on her blog 😂 i love her a lot so show this some love too!!

Everything or nothing, that’s how it’s always been with Joe, and he’s always given me his everything. That’s why I found his behavior strange lately. I wouldn’t call it distant, but something had changed, like how he had been acting around me. He’s been dismissive, not wanting to spend as much time with me, but this behaviour wasn’t unusual, or unnatural for what’s changed in his life. He’s been on set for the past few months with his mates - coming home at unreasonable hours of the morning, 3am, 4am or even 6 in the morning. “Hey Babe, did you want to go out for dinner tonight? Maybe to a nice fancy restaurant, just the two of us?” I had asked, happily. Looking towards Joe for your answer, after throwing my pillow on the freshly made up bed. Joe and I lived together, it’s been this way for just over a year now. Everything had been going great when we both moved in together, it was like nothing had changed. He still took us out on dates, spontaneous gifts here and there, nothing too out there. But, maybe about a week ago, that went dull. “Sorry, Hon. I can’t.” He said dryly, coming out from the bathroom with a towel around hung atop of his damp hair, which would be a rather attractive sight to you if it weren’t for the disappointing news. A frown made its way upon my face as I had nodded sadly. “Oh, alright.” Shaking my head, I looked up towards where Joe was and smiled at him, running my hand through my hair, pushing it back. “That’s alright. I know that you’re busy with work and everything,” I explained as I turned off the Radio that sat on our nightstand, right next to a photo of Joe and I, the day we spent our one year anniversary at the beach. “I just thought it would be nice for you to have some time away for a while, you know?” My voice progressively got more and more shaky. I spun around after taking a good look at the photo. Joe looked at me with sorrowful eyes, and took a step closer towards me. Shaking my head, I smiled more, even if I felt like my heart had fallen down to my feet. “I just thought that some time out away from everything, your practice and rehearsal,” Without my knowledge, a tear rolled down towards my chin. Sniffling and wiping away the tear, I shook my head once more, forgetting what I was going to say. “It really is okay, I just miss you.” Looking up into his eyes. “I really...I just really fucking miss you, Joe.” Heading towards the bathroom door behind him, I softly spoke before shutting the door. “I have to get ready for work.” My eyes landed on his face just before I closed the door. Dread. That’s all I saw. His eyes filled with pure sadness and dread. Another tear had strolled its way down my cheek. This feeling... I never want to feel it again. That was 6 days ago. I have spoken to Joe since then, of course, but it’s been small conversations, like how was your day and what do you want for dinner, as well as I Love You’s. To say I had been moping around the house since then would be an understatement. Of course I had been sad, but Joe hadn’t even apologised, or asked me if I’ve been okay since then. The same look of sadness hadn’t left his eyes, so I haven’t even thought the fact that he might want to leave me. He wouldn’t...would he? Hearing my phone’s ringtone blast from the lounge-room, I left the kitchen to see who it was calling me. “Hey Gwilym, what’s up?” Trying your best to sound like you’ve been doing alright. “Hey, love!” His welsh accent coming through easily. “I was just calling to see if you’d like to come on set and watch us rehearse? I know Joe might’ve contacted you about it already, but since you’re not here, I thought I’d ask if you wanted to come!” He sounds peachy and genuinely happy. I hope that Joe is too. “We all love your company around here, and it would be such a delight to have you.” Smiling, I nodded, trying to ignore the fact that my heart still sat at my feet. Joe hadn’t said anything to me about coming in today, he hadn’t asked me if I wanted to come in and watch them rehearse, catch up with my friends. “Yeah, sure! I’ll see you guys soon, just text me the address of where you guys are rehearsing today.” As I was about to say goodbye, his voice piped up once more. “How have you been lately, angel? I haven’t heard from you much. And I would ask Joe, but you’re the person I’m asking about, so I’d pick it as common sense to call you and ask.” Him asking how I’ve been is one thing, but to know he was genuinely concerned about me that he hadn’t gone to Joe to ask about my wellbeing is another. Gwilym was probably one of the guys I was closest to, minus Joe. After Joe had introduced me to the guys, Gwilym never failed on checking up on me, resulting on me getting closer and closer to him. “Yeah, I’m fine, Gwil.” Sounding a little bit deflated, I knew he would’ve picked up on it, so I tried to cover up. “Just a bit tired lately, you know? Work and all.” A dry laugh came out from my mouth. “You don’t have to worry about me.” He stayed silent for a moment. I knew that he figured out that I wasn’t telling the truth. Nonetheless, he replied. “Alright, but I will always worry. You’re my friend, of course.” He spoke, gentle and slow, as to let me know he was genuine and true. That sent a pang straight to my heart. I felt my eyes well with tears. Wow, I’m emotional. “Thank you, Gwil, but I’ll be okay.” Pausing for just a moment, i resumed talking. “Well, alright. I’m going to go and get ready then. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He responds with a small yes, and then a goodbye. After we had hung up, I rolled my head backwards, taking in a long breath, and then breathing out, feeling like some of the weight had gone. If only it were that easy. Not bothering to hop into the shower, having had one late last night, I just walked into the room and got myself ready. Throwing on a T-Shirt, sweater and some well fitted jeans, I tugged on my boots and left the house. After I lock the car, I walk through the car park. When I see Ben and Gwilym laughing and bickering, I let out a small laugh at their silliness, wondering if they do the same with Joe. My smile falters as my thoughts bring Joe into play, I shake my head - I don’t need to be thinking of him right now, I’ve got my friends to see. “Hey Y/N!” Gwil yells from where they’re standing. I smile widely as I lift my arm up to wave at them, walking towards where they stood. “Hey guys!” I giggle with excitement as I see they’re trying to fight for the first hug. I hug Gwil first, Ben shrugs and decides to join in, pulling us all together, closer. I let out another laugh as they both let go of me. “How have you guys been?” I ask, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear, listening intently. “Yeah! We’ve been great!” Ben says, enthusiastically. It was nice to be with them, they were so calm, fun and laid back, all things that Joe hasn’t been lately, and it makes me sad. I want Joe to be as happy as them, especially when they’re at home. “Oh god, you guys really do look like young Rog and Bri,” I play with a strand of Gwil’s fake bouncy hair. “Holy shit, it feels so real too!” “C’mon, hun, come on in!” Gwilym extends his hand in front of him, in the gesture of ‘come along’. I smile and begin to walk in, Ben on my right and Gwil on my left. Heading off into the set of the recording studio, Ben and Gwil disappearing somewhere into the crowd of makeup artists, I assumed, I looked around the room, observing it. It looked like the inside of a shack, but behind the glass was where they, Queen, would’ve recorded their songs. Or, actually, a replica of where they would have recorded their songs. “When did you get here?” Hearing a familiar voice behind me, my heart began to race. Turning around to see Joe, my heart raced faster. He had his wig, makeup and outfit on, all prepared for his scenes. He really looks like the younger version of John Deacon! Behind his eyes were some sort of happiness, but I could tell that when he saw me, he was nervous. Nervous about what, I wouldn’t know, my best guess is getting his lines right. Smiling at him, I walked towards him to give him a small hug, saying a gentle hello. Pulling back from him, I smiled at him. He gave me a small smile back, and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. Feeling my cheeks become slightly hot, I looked down towards the ground, bashfully. Taking a small step backwards, away from him, I took a glance around the room again. “Is this where they would record their songs?” Referring to Queen, I looked back at Joe shortly after glancing around the room once more. He nodded his head lightheartedly. “Well, it's a recreation of what would have been their recording studio.” He smiles as he looks around. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” As he’s looking around, I take the time to observe the man that I adore. His eyes were looking right into mine, his beautiful, hazel eyes. His adorable puppy-dog eyes. They haven't changed since I had met him. His defined jaw wasn’t sporting his usual beard, he was shaven clean for the movie. Honestly, I love him when he does or doesn’t have his facial hair. I mean, he is gorgeous no matter what. His beard makes it all the more fun to kiss him, having the fun, ticklish feeling left to linger. As I start to look around, I feel a pair of eyes on me. Looking back at Joe, his eyes met mine once more. As the blood rushes to my cheeks, causing a tint of pink to spread across my cheeks, leaving them rosy, I can’t tell what he’s feeling anymore. Whether he is feeling too much, or nothing at all. “Can you wait here for just a second?” He asks, reaching out to hold my hand. My heart started to beat faster as I nodded my head, reaching my arm out for his hand to grab mine. He rubbed his thumb on the top of my hand, and then let go. I didn’t want him to let go of my hand, his hands felt so soft and warm, I felt safe just holding them. When his hand slipped out of mine, I felt like whimpering. I felt like I was losing something, but he gave me a reassuring smile, and then left the room. As the door closed, I felt cold. I moved myself backwards to sit on the couch in the back of the room. Ten minutes had passed and Joe still hadn’t come back, so I decided I would get up and walk around the room, observe more closely. As I had stood up to take a closer look at things, Gwilym had walked in. I wouldn’t say he looked panicked, but definitely flushed. “Gwil, is everything okay?” I ask with a small chuckle coming from my mouth. He doesn’t say a word. He just grabs my wrist, wearing a smile from ear to ear, and then leads us out of the room. “Gwil, where are we going? I’m supposed to wait for Joe-” All that is going through my body right now is the feeling of utter confusion. When Gwil looks over his shoulder with a small smirk, I am even more confused. He shuffles us past small groups of people, other parts of the set, I couldn’t even tell where we were going anymore. When he opened a door and pushed us through, we found ourselves at a fountain. A beautiful fountain. My eyes widened, looking around the beautiful place. “This place… It’s gorgeous!” Spinning to get a 360 view of the room, I turned around to look at Gwilym, but it turns out that in the midst of walking in here and now, he walked out. Standing on the small set, surrounded by four walls, I found myself in awe with everything. The floor was artificial grass, yet soft and felt so real, dusted with small pink, yellow, and purple flowers. All of my favourite colours. There was a small tree in corner, setting shading upon the fountain that was spurting water. The water that rests in the fountain was adorned with lily pads that had flowers carefully placed on the top of them. I couldn’t help but admire everything that I was surrounded in. I felt like a princess in a fantasy world, this doesn’t seem real. “Hi, Sweetie.” Hearing Joe’s soft voice behind me, I saw that he looked completely different than when I had last saw him. He wasn’t John Deacon anymore, he was Joseph Mazzello, the man I had fallen madly in love with the day I had met him. “Joe.” I said, but it came out more as a question than anything. I knew it was him, but I didn’t know why he wasn’t in his wig anymore. “What’s going on? I thought rehearsal didn’t finish until late?” Cocking my head to the side, I took a closer look at him. Was he wearing a tuxedo? He walked towards me with me smile on his face, a tinge of pink dusting his cheekbones. “Y/N, I have debated on when I wanted to do this,” He began, making my heart race faster and faster. Having that smile on his face washed away all my worries of him ending this relationship. “But seeing you stand there in front of me, your cheeks pink, eyes filled with nothing but love, I knew my decision had been made right then and there.” His smile had only gotten wider, and I felt that I could hear his heart beating out of his chest. “But before I do go on, there is one thing I want to get out of the way first.” He’s all I can see. Nothing else in this room is in my view. The faux grass, the tree, the fountain or the lily pads, nothing. Just Joe. Just Joe in his navy blue suit, bowtie and well shined shoes. “I know that recently, I haven’t been myself. I didn’t notice, but when I told the boys, they helped me see things really clearly. And I am so sorry if I had made you feel unloved, or scared that you would lose me. I am so sorry.” He sniffled gently, keeping the water that was welling his eyes at bay. Dabbing his clothed wrist onto his eyes, ridding himself of the water, he continued on with his speech. “You are my everything. You’re honestly all I see. I don’t want to be anywhere without you, or without the memory of you. I want to go everywhere and be there with you, or if you can’t be there, remember us going there together. I don’t want to be without you.” The water reappeared at the brim of his eyes, just as they appeared in mine too. My heart continued to beat loudly. He took one more step closer, one stray tear strolling down his cheek. I instinctively lifted my arm, pressing my thumb against his cheek to wipe away the tear. He chucked and grabbed my arm, sliding it down to slip his hand into mine, moving his other arm forward to grab my other hand, holding them both.

“You are the person I cherish the most. I love our time together.” He smiled, sniffling once more, swinging our arms side to side. “Do you remember our first year anniversary?” He chuckles. Remembering back to the day, I laughed with him. That day at the beach, I had been frightened by the birds down there, running away from them, all while trying to desperately keep my hat on in the rough wind. Joe stood a fair bit away, laughing at the scene while trying to shoo the birds away. Nodding my head, he continued with what he was saying. “That day, I won’t ever forget it. Not just because you were afraid of the birds,” He laughed gently, but then tightened his grip in my hands. “But because that day, the sun hit you in a way I have never seen. You looked like an angel. A real life angel, send down here to bless not just me, but every person that you come in contact with in every way possible.” His voice was soft, fragile, like he was trying not to break glass. “I would say you have never looked more beautiful, but you get more and more beautiful every day. I can never get enough of you, I really can’t. You take my breath away with every passing moment.” As he finished his sentence, I looked at him with so much love in my eyes. I squeezed his hands harder just as he was slipping them out from my grasp. He took a small step back, and then got down on one knee. “Joe?” I asked, my heart beating a million miles an hour, my heart just about to come out of my chest. My hands had flung up to my mouth instinctively, not knowing what else to do with them. “Baby, I honestly cannot see my future without you in it, and I don’t want to hold this off any longer.” He takes a small black velvet box out of his back pocket and holds it in his hand. “You mean so much to me, and I would feel like the luckiest guy on the face of this earth if you would be my wife, Y/N.” He opens the box to reveal a simple, yet elegant silver ring. Nodding my head vigorously, he shot up, wrapping his arms around me. “I love you so much, Joe. Of course, of course I’ll marry you.” Saying, trying to sound like I’m not about to cry, I hug him tightly in my arms. Hearing repeated bang’s go off behind Joe, I look to see that Gwil, Ben, Rami and Lucy had all been standing there with party poppers in their hands. “Congratulations you guys!” Lucy loudly says, over all of the boys popping their poppers after she did hers. Lucy raced forward to throw her arms around the both of us, the boys following suit. Congratulations and I’m so happy for you guys were thrown around, but in all honesty, my eyes were only set on Joe, who had never looked happier. He was smiling from ear to ear and his eyes were glistening, like there were stars in his eyes. Moving my hand from Joe’s back, where I was hugging him, I placed my hand on his cheek. He turned his head to look at me, his eyes filling with fondness and love. As we got closer, our lips pressing against one another, cheers had filled the room once again. Not having a single care in the world, my hand had slipped from his cheek to the back of his neck, my fingers running through his hair in the process. His hand had found its place on my back, pushing me closer to him. Hearing mumbling and then a door closing, I had only assumed that the group had made their way outside, giving us our privacy. Our lips didn’t pull away for another minute after that. When we needed air, only then we decided to pull away, our foreheads pressed together. “I love you so much, Y/N.” His eyes, his shining, emerald green eyes had opened to look directly into mine, his hand from my back finding its way to rest on my cheek, his thumb rubbing away any tears that had strayed from my eyes. “I love you so much too, Joe. Enough that I would marry your goofy ass.” Chuckling silently, I leaned forward to peck his lips once more, pulling away, resting my arms on his shoulders to keep steady. His lips twitched into a smirk, his hands landing on my hips. “Oh, sweetie, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Making the both of us laugh, he pressed his lips against mine with more passion than before, our bodies in much closer proximity than before. My hands finding their way in his hair once more. One of his hands had found their way up my shirt, gripping my torso, like he was embedding my body in his mind. My whole body was pressed right up against his. I started to breathe more heavily than before, my body starting to increase in temperature. Joe had moved his hands from my body, trailing one hand up to cup my cheek. He began to pull away, but I didn’t want him to go, so I pushed myself forward. Feeling him smile against my lips and feeling him laugh, he stopped me from pushing my lips against his, and pulled away. Pouting as he looked me in the eyes, he just rubbed his thumb against my cheek. A smirk spread itself across his face just as he had leaned in to whisper to me. “Don’t worry baby.” His breath fanned against my neck, making goosebumps travel down my whole body. “You can get more when we get home. So much more.” Although I’m very impatient to get home, if this is what the future looks like, I can’t wait.

[afinepricklypear]

Mother’s Day and Mental Health Awareness Month

**Warning - This post talks about depression, mental disorder, and an attempted suicide. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. The events described here are real and true to the best of my memory.**

I went to make a post May 1st and Tumblr was kind enough to inform me that May is Mental Health Awareness month. It isn’t without irony for me that Mental Health Awareness month occurs the same month as Mother’s Day.

My relationship with my mother is a difficult topic, it’s usually only one I can talk about with my sisters, but it’s this time of year that people most want to talk about moms. When I was younger, I didn’t know what to say when people brought up their moms and mom-like behavior in general, mostly foreign concepts to me. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned I don’t have to say anything at all, like in my work meeting this morning when our supervisor reminded us all to call our mom’s this weekend, you know, “if they’re still alive”, since most of our department are near retiring age, but I don’t always know how to feel. Here comes the guilt: do I call, do I text, do I take the risk that she’ll be in a good mood or will she turn it around, again, like the year I sent her a gift and she used my gesture as ammo to attack my “ungrateful” older sister that’s still trying to untangle her own complicated relationship with our mother. I’m ten again, twelve again, sixteen again, walking on eggshells around a house where the air is so thick with the constant fog of her misery, I can’t see farther than a minute into my future.

There were good moments, of course, like any home. She was always the more encouraging parent when it came to my writing, my father would pick it all apart – in the long run, both approaches helped me become a better writer. There was the time she was given two tickets to see Mama Mia at the casino where she dealt, and she chose to take me. We got dressed up, she leant me this white faux fur jacket and some of her jewelry, curled my hair and did my make-up, she was riding high on her emotions. She took me to a fancy dinner at the Hard Rock Café before the show. We didn’t get spoiled often, and to this day, Mama Mia and ABBA hold a special place in my heart. I always think of her singing along to the radio in the car, she has a nice voice, and maybe in another life, she could’ve been a singer.

There were moments when she was trying to be sweet and it still leaves me with conflicted emotions. Like the time the German shepherd she took off the hands of a coworker who was afraid of him violently attacked me. She bandaged me up, laid in bed with me and comforted me, it’s the most motherly I ever remember her being. She kept the dog for a while after that, I still have scars on both my arms from the attack, I’ll have them the rest of my life, just like my little sister will still have her scars from when it attacked her, and my friend who came to visit will still have the scar it gave her…my older sister was only lucky that it was muzzled when it went for her face. My mother was convinced she had a special connection with this dog, that in his heart of hearts he believed he was protecting her, so I get it, she didn’t want to get rid of something that she felt loved her unconditionally.

Sometimes it’s hard to conjure these kinder memories, they become overwhelmed with the harder, darker ones that feel infinitely more numerous. There are the moments that seem innocuous, when you could say I was acting a spoiled child, like the time I was in middle school and I wanted to keep my hair long, but my mother decided I needed bangs. My dad tried to stop it, but she had made up her mind. I cried and pleaded with her but she commanded the reluctant stylist to chop the hair off. Armed with a brush and blow-dryer, she attempted to show me “it was cute” that night and things escalated to the point my dad and older sister were stepping in, arguing with my mom to let me be. I went back to that same hair stylist with my friend who was getting her hair cut the next day, and the stylist apologized, confessed that she didn’t want to cut my hair, told me it was so healthy and beautiful too, and she felt terrible doing it. Years later, when I was an adult and decided to cut my hair short with sideswept bangs, my mother would throw this memory back in my face, “sure, now you want bangs”, still incapable of understanding that it wasn’t about her, but about me wanting to define my own body and style. She did the same to my older sister in high school, dyed her hair blonde – it took so much bleach to lighten her naturally dark hair color that the hair looked fried afterwards and we were all amazed it didn’t fall out. Never mind that my older sister never wanted blonde hair to begin with, it was antithetical to her personality, and she won’t even go near the hair dye aisle now.

There are the moments where my mom was so unreasonable that everyone felt helpless, like the day I was alone in my room, my sisters in the living room talking and watching television – doing I don’t know what – and my mom was sleeping in her room because she worked graveyard shift at this time. Suddenly, inexplicably, my mom came into my room in a rage, “how dare you call your little sister stupid,” she scolded me, she continued to berate me for being cruel and mean, even as I told her, baffled, I didn’t know what she was talking about, even as my sisters argued with her, “no one called anyone stupid. She wasn’t even in the room with us.” My mother wouldn’t listen, she knew what she heard, she grounded me and, matter settled, left back to bed. My dad got home from work not long after, and I was in my room still bawling, inconsolable and unable to work out what I’d done wrong. He asked my sisters why I was crying and they explained, and, again, my mom comes storming in my room yelling, “how dare you tattle on me to your dad!” I don’t remember much of what happened from there, my dad stepped in, they argued the rest of the night, and he would later assure me I wasn’t grounded. It was the only thing he could undo from that day.

There are other, harder to define moments. The nights my mom would argue with my dad, we’d be in bed, school in the morning, and she’d turn on all our bedroom lights, rip the covers off our beds, and scream at us to get out of her house, that she was putting us all out on the streets and it was our father’s fault. I remember vividly the fight between my parents that happened in the day, everyone awake in the house, I collapsed in the kitchen as my mother ranted that we all hated her so she should leave and we won’t have to deal with her anymore, and I cried and trembled, overwhelmed with the thought, I don’t want anyone to leave, I don’t want to lose my family. I had to get out, so I did, walked right out of the house, not sure where I’d go, and my mother panicked and raced after me, put an arm over my shoulders, coaxed me back to the house. The moment the door closed; she was yelling at us again for not loving her enough and I realized I couldn’t leave, I was trapped. There was the gambling addiction, every Christmas we would be prepared, “mom lost a lot of money at the casino last night, we might not have a Christmas this year” – we had learned not to expect anything anyways and that every gift came with a quid pro quo and years of ‘remember I did this for you’. My older sister and her then-boyfriend, now-husband, watched my mom gamble away more than a month’s mortgage and spend the entire night chasing it back.

I’m thinking about all of this more recently, I think, since I started writing some fanfics for the Bungou Stray Dogs community. One of the main characters of the show is named after and inspired by author, Dazai Osamu, a man that died prematurely from a double suicide. This is treated tongue-and-cheek by the anime and its original manga through Dazai’s many failed suicide attempts and his odd flirtation strategy of asking ladies to commit double suicide with him. I kind of like this approach to the topic, it might on the surface seem insensitive to make a joke of something so serious as depression, but humor can be therapeutic and give us an easier way to broach otherwise difficult subjects.

I was in high school when my older sister and I were allowed to be in on the conversations about my mother’s mental disorder, both undiagnosed and untreated. We’d all speculate, my father and his sister, my mother’s sister, my sisters and I, the favorite theory was bipolar disorder, but we may never know. My mom refused then and refuses to this day to seek help. There were little things about her past before marrying my dad that we were allowed to know as we got older, too. Like, how she’d been put in a hospital that wanted to keep her there for further treatment – they knew something was wrong but didn’t know what, this was during a time when bipolar disorder was unheard of and they called similar diagnoses ‘manic depression’ – and she had to threaten legal action to get released. When she was eighteen, she had married a man knowing he had a terminal illness in order to help him get his green card, he died two years later, and she still considers him the great love of her life. We’re told by the media, movies like A Walk to Remember, that this is romantic, but in reality, it’s an unhealthy fixation on a relationship that was doomed from the start. She idolizes the memory of it, puts it on a pedestal as the standard for all of her other relationships to compare to, but it isn’t realistic. It was a relationship with a known expiration date, it wasn’t a real commitment, nothing had to matter because it would all come to an end soon, and they never reached the hard parts of a marriage – children, growing old, changing bodies, financial struggles, loss and disagreement. She went through a deep depression after he died and it reached a point that her sister had her placed on a suicide watch and thus began her long and sordid history of depression.

There are a lot of fanfics in the BSD community that explore a darker tone to Dazai’s depression, to varying degrees of accuracy. I mostly steer clear of them. There is one writer in the community that I won’t name, they’re an amazing writer with beautiful technical skill, and they do an impeccable job of showing depression exactly as it is for those who live it and those who live with a person that suffers from it. I left a one-word comment on one of their stories, the only positive thing I could say, and I couldn’t write anymore without the comment turning into an emotional lecture, I don’t know that author’s personal emotional state, but I also won’t read any more from them. It wasn’t the accurate depiction of depression that turned me off from the story, but the depiction of Dazai’s depression being known by all the characters in the story, including himself, but he won’t seek treatment for it, and all of the characters are shown to enable his depression and put up with his abuses that stem from his disorder. In the story he was placed in an intimate relationship with the character, Chuuya, and Chuuya is painted as the patron saint of boyfriends, willing to overlook Dazai’s every episode, draw him back from the ledge and bandage up his scars with an endless patience and gentleness. I couldn’t move passed the romanticizing of this relationship dynamic. Chuuya is shown to be noble and celebrated for his self-sacrifice and unconditional love that compels him to stay beside Dazai despite everything Dazai inflicts upon himself and Chuuya, and more importantly, despite Dazai’s refusal to get treatment.  

My mother’s emotional state was constantly our responsibility growing up. She was sad because we didn’t love her. She was angry because we were ungrateful. She was miserable because we couldn’t see all that she did for us. If she hurt us with her words, if she lashed out at us irrationally, it was our fault, because we didn’t do everything right. Never mind that what was right could change within a minute in a day. Too often when someone in your life is suffering from a mental disorder, you’re made to shoulder the blame, either unintentionally by them as they suffer from their illness or intentionally by well-meaning individuals outside of the situation that don’t know better: you just need to give them love. If they take their own life, it’s your fault, you didn’t love them enough.

It was the Friday before Mother’s Day, I was in my early twenties, finishing up my degree in Anthropology (after changing my major, I don’t know how many times). My parents were long since divorced and my mom lived alone in the house where I grew up, still shrouded in all of those dark memories. My mother’s sister had recently left town after a short visit, she had called me a few days earlier to let me know my mother lost her job  that week and was struggling to get out of the depression. In retrospect, she’d been sinking for a while now, after the violent dog and so many other incidents like it left us all with too many scars to overlook and we didn’t know how to walk back into that house, how to feel safe there. She’d covered herself in tattoos, cut her hair short, wore different wigs to work every day, she’d gained a lot of weight and was chain smoking so much there was a permanent haze in the house. None of these things should be thought of as red flags for everyone, it should be taken on an individual basis, but for my mother they were all signs that she was spiraling. She didn’t like who she saw in the mirror and was desperately trying to cover it up, find someone she did like. I had promised her I would come over, make her a dinner for Mother’s Day, and I would take her to see a movie. I was on my phone with my aunt when I pulled up, snowballing ideas for what to do if things got serious and if we needed to think about placing her on a suicide watch, how that would work. I rang the doorbell; it was outside of the gate she put around the front yard for her dogs to go in the front yard.

No answer.

Rang it again.

Still no answer.

She knew I was coming over.

I opened the gate, went to the door, the door was cracked open, my aunt was on the phone in my ear, “what’s going on?” I opened the door fully and my mom’s dogs came to greet me. The house was in disarray, furniture toppled over, papers scattered across the floor, so many of the details are blurred out of memory, I remember distinctly a ceramic statue broken on the floor but I couldn’t tell you what it was a statue of. I could hear a low intermittent moan coming from farther in the house. I followed it down the hall to my mother’s room, into her bathroom, where she was collapsed, naked, on the floor of her shower.

I told my aunt I had to go, I hung up and dialed 911. In the moment, I didn’t know how panicked I really was, my voice unnaturally high, my body warm and shaking and electric with adrenaline. That feeling hits me again, sometimes, when I don’t expect it. There was white like foam around my mother’s mouth, her eyes stared wide and blank at the ceiling, her every breath was that guttural moan as she attempted to draw air in, an autonomic action, she was completely unresponsive. Her body was on autopilot, and so was mine. I’d been rehearsing for a long time what to do in that situation, it’s the only way I made it through everything that needed to be done. I gave the dispatcher the address, answered her questions, “I think she did something to herself but I don’t know what…no, there’s no pills nearby…no, I don’t see anything in the trash…she’s been severely depressed…she has a history of depression…”, between pleading with my mom, “please don’t leave me, please stay with me, mom,” and wrestling her dogs into the front yard and out of the house. The dispatcher told me the ambulance was on its way and asked if I wanted her to stay on the line and I begged her not to hang up, not to leave me with nothing but the moans of my dying mother, she didn’t say anything during that time, was just silently present as I talked to my mom and waited for the paramedics. They couldn’t come in until I got the dogs out back, I cursed and screamed at the unruly mongrels and felt an irrational anger that my mom never got them properly trained.

I took a seat in the kitchen, let the paramedics work and my brain shut down. I called my aunt back, told her what happened. The paramedics came to ask me questions, I tried to answer them but I didn’t know and my aunt was correcting me over the phone, so I handed her over and let her talk to them. They took my mother away to the hospital and I was alone, in that childhood house, that held so many horrible memories of my mother’s untreated disorder, and every aspect of our lives that it colored and perverted. Every Mother’s Day was always fraught with anxiety, I think it was my mother’s least favorite day, her mood was always sour, and no matter what we gave her or tried to do for her, it wasn’t enough. Even the year before, the Mother’s Day when she told us exactly what to get her. She was so happy with her present, a sterling silver ring with our birthstones imbedded that cost us all a pretty penny – I was paying my own way through college, my older sister was paying rent on a Starbucks salary, and my little sister didn’t have a job – but a week later we were ungrateful brats again. There was one Mother’s Day when I was maybe ten or eleven, we’d set her up roses and two cards – one from my father and one from her daughters. I was watching television and waiting for her to come home from work to wish her a happy Mother’s Day. She came in and years of practice had taught me to recognize she was in a dark mood, a cigarette on her lip, her posture tense, muttering under her breath about how nobody loved her, nobody cared. She stalked to the desk, ripped the cards in half without opening them and threw them on the ground in front of me without sparing me one glance or word, and stormed to her room, slammed the door behind her.

We would later find out that my mother drank antifreeze, a method that has about a 5% survival rate. She was in a coma for about a month. It was another few weeks before they took the respirator tube out and her throat recovered enough that she could talk in small sentences, and not without effort and pain. She told us she filled a cup with the antifreeze, showed us with her fingers set apart how high she’d put it in the glass, when she finished, she washed the cup and stuck it in the dishwasher, hiding the evidence. She’d always heard antifreeze was flavorless but it tasted awful – they add flavoring to antifreeze to deter people from accidentally ingesting it. She’d thought it would be quick, but it’s really an excruciatingly painful and long, drawn out way to die. She’d stripped in her deliria and taken a shower because her body felt so awful, feverish and almost on fire, as it was shutting down and her nerves fried from the chemical reaction. I wrestled for a long time with the ethical delimma of my choices in that moment after finding her, and there was a thought that stuck with me through it all: What did I get my mother for Mother’s Day? I saved her life, and it was still the wrong gift.

It isn’t noble or romantic to stay with someone who refuses to get professional treatment for their mental disorder. There is no amount of love or patience or understanding that will heal them. In most situations, the harder and braver thing to do is walk away. None of us is a perfect person and none of us should have to bear the burden of another person’s unwillingness to get help when they need it. It took me a long time to come to terms with the notion that there is no one to blame in this situation. It isn’t my fault that I can’t give my mother the love she craves. It isn’t my mother’s fault that she can’t see the love that her daughters wanted to give her. But it is her responsibility to get help. If she refuses help, no one can force it on her.

It’s been years now since this happened. My mother is now as recovered as she’ll ever be. Her mind isn’t as sharp, and she struggles with controlling her muscles and the devastating damage to her nervous system that will never fully heal. She remains undiagnosed and is not receiving any kind of professional guidance or treatment. There have been new, dark memories, added to the old ones, in those times when we tried to be supportive and “there for her” during her recovery. Episodes that remind us she doesn’t want to change and she never will. So, we keep our interactions to a minimum, answer when she texts, try to help her when she asks for it, check in every so often. She lives on the other side of the country with two cats and goes regularly to the neighborhood karaoke bar. In a weird way, she seems happier with this set up, this distance between her and all of the pain that my sisters and I seemed to bring her, that constant demand for love that we couldn’t fulfill, maybe it really was all our fault and we were the ones to blame, or maybe it’s because I’m not living with her depression anymore.

I don’t know if I’ll call my mother on Mother’s Day, but for anyone else out there with a complicated relationship with their mother, it’s okay if you decide not to call your mother either.

[jungxk]

just one (iii)

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

warnings: eventual smut, swearing, bad habits (mentions of drinking, smoking etc)

genre: humour, drama, romance, college!au

wordcount: 7.3k

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

contrary to popular belief, jungkook does set some rules for himself. he doesn't have many, but the ones he does have he's strict about.

the first was no drunks in his jeep. he already broke that rule by allowing you and your friend seulgi in, so maybe that was out the window. impressive too, because he hasn't let anyone in his truck that hammered since jimin after taehyung's 21st. he threw up all over the dashboard and jungkook could swear he smelt vomit in there for months. even though he's sensitive to smell and hates repeating the same mistakes, jungkook decided you were worth the risk.

which brings him to his second rule: messing around with girls was just that. messing around. every time he needs reminding of that jungkook remembers the cactus plant taehyung gave him back during his very first semester. he killed that thing in record timing to the point where even taehyung wondered if there was a malevolent spirit in the place, because how else could you kill a cactus? it perfectly depicted jungkook's most telling trait: he can't look after things. look out for things, sure. he can step into a fight if his friend needed help or walk an old lady to her car with groceries. because those were a one off, in-the moment things that jungkook is good at navigating. but long term things? investing himself? he could barely stomach his own emotions for a weekend let alone someone else's, so it really was a recipe for disaster for everyone involved. get in, get out, get going onto the next. that way everybody wins.

and that neatly bleeds into his final rule: no bringing girls back to his place (if he can help it). jungkook preferred to keep his personal and personal personal life separate, so the less girls knew about him outside the bedroom the better. besides, it's not like he's totally unreasonable - if his place was closest and the situation called for it, then fair enough. but that was hardly ever the case.

which is why he's here: stumbling around the park in the middle of the day, totally and utterly lost. he was sure he had taken this shortcut once or twice before but apparently he was wrong, because he didn't even know this half of the park existed.

"the fuck is this place," jungkook mutters to himself, shifting as best as he can through a patch of long grass. he's pretty sure he's got a twig in his shirt somewhere and he doesn't even want to think about that squishy thing he just stepped in. his dick may have had a blast last night (and this morning) but the timbs on his feet had definitely seen better days.

jungkook had been wandering around for so long now he considers calling the girl who's place he'd just left in hopes of getting some directions...but then realised he didn't have her number. and even if he did, what would he say? i made you cum faster than you could spell out my name but now i need you to fish me out of the park like a lost dog? and then the next hurdle: what was her name again? jane? joy? jill? it quickly becomes irrelevant when jungkook gets through the end of weeds and broken branches to an open plain of grass again. it's a cloudy day so it wasn't particularly beautiful to look at, but he's just happy to be out of the mess of trees. looking out to the large pond of water just where the steepness of a hill stops, he double-takes when he sees that the person sitting atop it is...you.

you. bundled up in a hoodie, no makeup, tongue sticking out while you work to get the shading of that wilted tree just right. it's a public place, there are people out on the streets, cars whizzing past, but jungkook still feels like he's stumbled upon something private, intimate even - so beautiful do you look, so simple and candid. just you in your own little world. his fingers practically itch for a camera.

raising a hand before calling out your name, jungkook is unable to stop a smile blooming across his face when you snap your head up. he comes over to you, out from all the bushes like it was a totally normal place for someone to be. you can't help but stare at him like he's go an extra head when he finally reaches you, hair all mussed and eyes wonderfully bright. he smells vaguely of women's perfume and cigarette smoke but fuck if you don't gulp a little at how delectable he looks, leaf in his hair and all. "fancy seeing you here, noona."

"i could say the same," you lean to peer over his big shoulder, quirking a brow. "jungkook, why were you in the woods?"

he looks back with you to inspect the path he came from. "i was in the woods?"

"yeah," you laugh, his dopey expression making warmth flourish in your chest. he looks so loveable when he has no idea what's going on, eyes all big and mouth hanging open like an endearing dumbass. the urge to kiss him hits you out of nowhere. "i'm um, guessing you don't come to this park often?"

"i do! i've been here like," he counts his fingers. "twice? once sober." he looks down at his feet bashfully. "i'm actually a little lost."

"i hadn't guessed," you grin up at him, gesturing, "the entrance is way on the other side, over there. if you keep walking this way and then turn left at the-"

"i'll just wait until you're done," jungkook insists, plopping down on the grass next to you. his shirt wrinkles up around the belt to extenuate the flat of his stomach, settling into the ridges of what quite obviously are his covered abs. he looks so innocent from the neck up, round eyes blinking at you through his hair innocently like he isn't all hard edges and stiff lines from the shoulders down. a wolf in sheep's clothing and all that. "if you don't mind, that is? i don't know if you realised but i'm not exactly good with directions."

"you're right. if i let you wander off alone i'll probably see your face on the news tomorrow. just gimme a minute to pack all this-"

the gentle hand enveloping yours stills you. "please. take your time," jungkook hums, letting you enjoy the warmth of his touch before settling back with his palms in the grass again. "i don't mind relaxing here a little while anyway."

you open your book again upon his insisting. "i won't be too long, promise. this fucking pond is just being difficult."

"looks pretty perfect to me," he muses, pretending to inspect your work when really he's inspecting you.

it goes straight over your head though, too enthralled in getting the lines right, getting every stain of colour placed where you want it. you made the dreariest looking pond look like a glittering lake, alive with colour and life that didn't exist in the real world. he scans the other page; more trees, dogs playing with owners, cloudy skies and orchids, so many orchids even though this park had none. you clearly had a liking for them.

"it's definitely not perfect," you laugh, wetting your brush and softening more edges. "but that's what i love about painting. perfect doesn't exist. or even desired." he hums in agreement, no longer able to look at your art, only you. the way your lashes gently flutter, a dimple forming at the side of your mouth when you purse your lips. you were so easy on the eyes jungkook doesn't realise he's staring until you break the silence. "so are you gonna tell me why you're lost in the park or are you gonna make me guess, slick?"

he grins. "you have three strikes, noona. use them wisely."

"booty call?"

"damn," he huffs, head tilting back while listening to your victorious laugh. "listen, it wasn't exactly a booty call. that would imply i met jane before," he pauses. "i mean joy. wait, jennie?" he scratches his head. "what's your friend's name again, jisoo? definitely not her..."

"ask your dick, he'll probably remember. do you want me to give you two some privacy?"

"what's it to you?" jungkook laughs, nudging your shoulder with his while he gnaws his bottom lip, because it's not like he was about to admit that jane/joy/jennie was the third girl he slept with this week to get you out of his head. it was slutty even by jungkook's standards, and even then it still didn't stop him from secretly hoping you'd at least get a tiny bit jealous - and at best, curious to take their place.

"nothing, nothing," you throw him playful look. "i'm just another art hoe sat in the park, who am i to judge?"

he laughs again, nose scrunching up cutely. "how did you find this place anyway?" jungkook peers around the fence of trees, making the area feel so much more secluded, as if the rest of the world was off somewhere else. "i never knew there was such a big pond here."

"neither did i, until jimin."

"jimin?"

a nod. "he brought me here a few years ago, back when i was," you don't know how to finish, wetting your lips. "back when i was going through a tough time. family issues and all that. he said everyone needs a place to scream and cry and this was his, so he gave it to me too. it also just happens to be very pretty."

you can feel jungkook's inquisitive eyes on you, regarding how wistful you look remembering the days you and jimin would come here every week for some respite from life. it all seemed so long ago but like yesterday at the same time, as if walking around in a dream. it's jungkook that lulls you back to earth with his velvet soft voice. "you know it's weird, i know jimin hyung inside out, have done since we were kids. when he's mad, upset, whatever it was," he pauses thoughtfully. "but i don't think he's ever opened up to me about his feelings. anyone, really. he comes out here to scream but he can't like, talk to people?"

"jimin's like that," you agree. "everyone thinks because he has a million friends he's an open book, but it's the opposite. i've known him all this time and he's never even cried in front of me!"

"same," jungkook sighs. "weird. especially since he was, like, the biggest crybaby from ages four to sixteen."

"sixteen?" you laugh. "seriously?!"

"you have no idea! one time as a joke i asked if he was crying even though he wasn't, and he got so annoyed he started crying," jungkook snickers, eyes crinkling happily while he falls about in giggles with you. "but then he grew up, went to college. gets himself some pussy every time he's upset now, i guess."

"it sounds awful when you put it like that!" you pause. "maybe it is a little awful."

jungkook shrugs. "it's the easy way out, is what it is. doesn't make him a bad guy."

you prod him. "are we still talking about jimin?" you're met with another nudge before continuing. "what i mean is he's always thinking of others, that jiminie," you shake your head fondly at the thought of him, and jungkook sees your affection for him etched all across your face. "i keep telling him that processing other people's emotions for them isn't healthy, but he won't listen to me. have at it when you get the time."

"what was it?" jungkook asks. "the emotions he processed for you, i mean?" he raises a brow when you make a face at him. "or do i have to reach level fifty before unlocking your tragic backstory?"

"try level one hundred," you scoff, hauling yourself up to collect your things. "now, do you wanna go get some coffee or sit here and talk about our abandonment issues? choose carefully, you only get one."

"coffee," jungkook scrambles to pack your art supplies for you, making you laugh. "coffee, coffee, coffee!"

x

x

x

"jiminieee!" you call out across the house, kicking the door shut behind you after letting yourself in. you're glad you never threw out your old key because it came in handy during times like this, when jimin couldn't answer a text to save his life. he usually wasn't so m.i.a. but that didn't mean he didn't have his moments from time to time. you just assumed maybe he had a girl over, in which case you had no problem eating all the snacks in the kitchen and playing video games with taehyung until he was done. "why didn't you pick up, i called you like, twice today! anyway i was thinking, do you-"

you stop dead in kitchen, surprised to see hoseok there with jimin. it's dead quiet, heads snapped to you like they've only just stopped talking upon your arrival. you can't help but blink back at them, a little dazed, unsure what you just walked in on. but before you can think too much about it, hoseok is shooting you one of his sweet smiles. "hey, ____!"

"hey hobi, uh," your eyes skirt over to your best friend nervously. "didn't think i'd see you here..!"

"hyung just came over for a catch up," jimin says, which is about as much of an explanation as you're gonna get. "sorry i missed your calls, i left my phone upstairs. everything good?"

"yeah i just," you shuffle closer to jimin, a habit you had when you felt uneasy. even though there was nothing to be uneasy about, so to speak; you and hobi had been texting regularly for a couple weeks now, so it's not like you had a reason to be so skittish. so why do you get the nagging feeling there's something you're missing? you ignore it in favour of jimin's pleasant expression. "i was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie? that new horror film just came out and i'm free tonight, so..?"

he strokes your back apologetically, venturing dangerously low. boyfriend territory, so to speak. "sorry ____, but i have so much work to catch up on before this weekend! remember irene noona?"

you lean into him involuntarily. "yeah?"

"she's having another thing on saturday. i really wanna go but i gotta submit my project first," jimin explains, his gentle caress along your spine enough to lull you into submission alone. "but hobi can go with you! you're free tonight, aren't you hyung?"

"um," hoseok wets his lips, eyes darting between the pair of you. "yeah. yeah, i'd love to take you for a movie, ____. if you don't mind, that is."

"oh, yeah of course not! that sounds great," you pat jimin's chest briefly. "too bad you can't make it though. next time?"

"next time," he nods, and you do your best not to shiver when he squeezes your hip.

x

x

x

you're still in denial all the way to the movie theatre, right up until hoseok pays for the tickets and the popcorn and the good coke. there was no denying it after that: you were officially on a date with jung hoseok.

and it was the first of many. because hobi was funny and understanding and sweet, planning around your schedule and picking things you liked to do. even if you cancelled last minute or opted for a night in, he was so chill about it all. if there was a definition of prince charming in the dictionary, hobi's face would be plastered next to it, his name in glitter cursive. this is further supported by the way he brings you flowers before taking you to a fancy dinner he saved up for, all the way uptown.

evidently, it was only natural that your first kiss with him be perfect as well.

"oh, hoseok!" you coo, plucking the fresh lillies from his hands happily. his cheeks burn with excitement, because you only ever call him hoseok when you're sincerely touched. he follows you into the kitchen while you put the flowers in some water, like a puppy on a leash. jimin was right, he muses. this way, everybody wins. "they're so beautiful! you really shouldn't have, i can imagine these costing a fuck tonne..."

"don't worry about that," hoseok says, stepping closer to you when you finally face him. he looks awfully dashing in his dress shirt and pants, hair swept back to reveal even more of his bright, handsome face. he reaches for your hand gently. "i'm just glad you like them."

"i love them," you smile, his heart fluttering with how pretty you look in that moment, all sweet features and a sweeter dress. "no one's ever given me flowers before, you know. maybe i'll sketch them tonight, so i remember forever."

"no need," he chuckles, taking another step. you're close now, awfully close. the richness of his brown eyes throws you, studying your face with the most gentle smile in the world. before he looks down at your lips. "i'll buy you flowers for as long as you'll let me."

hoseok reaches up to cup the side of your face, feather light and soft. he waits for you to pull away, and when you don't he leans in to meet you half way in a short, honey-sweet kiss. his lips are just as soft as they look, just as plump as you'd imagined. you sigh into his mouth when he kisses you again, a bit longer this time, falling into his chest for more before hoseok pulls back with a glittering grin.

"come on," he says brightly, tugging your hands. "i busted my ass for that reservation, so no tardiness!"

you hum with a nod, clutching his hand and letting him lead you out.

but of course, you got there on time. dinner was perfect, the food was delicious, the weather was lovely, absolutely everything was just right. and yet when hoseok kisses you goodnight at the door, you wonder why your chest feels like it's got a chunk missing. like scraping the bottom of a tub of ice cream for a piece of cookie dough and not finding any. you pad into your room, waiting expectantly for hoseok's got home safe text that he never forgets to send. you're so caught up in your head trying to figure out if the chicken you had at dinner is what's making you feel off, before your phone pings! right on time. but then you do a double take at the id.

[unknown number 9:28pm] hey it's slick :) just wanted to ask why you let me walk around with a leaf in my hair the other day. awfully mean of you noona

[unknown number 9:28pm] this is jungkook btw in case u havent guessed

[unknown number 9:29pm] unless im not the only guy u call slick...?

the laughter that bubbles up in your chest is so potent and refreshing you find yourself falling back into your bed in a fit of giggles, eagerly unlocking your phone to save jungkook's number. you had totally forgotten to anticipate his text in the weeks hobi kept you busy.

[you 9:32pm] thanks for clarifying, ur actually slick #4. jimins #5 if that helps

[you 9:33pm] you didn't pay for my coffee so it was revenge

[you 9:33pm] plus you Might have looked a bit cute

[jungkook 9:35pm] are u kidding

[jungkook 9:35pm] i got u those overpriced chocolate things which was like 4 coffees

[jungkook 9:36pm] ahhhhh there it is :) i knew u had a thing for me

[you 9:38pm] they're called croissants jungkook

[jungkook 9:38pm] idc lets go back to how u think im cute

[you 9:40pm] i thought you didnt like me calling u cute

[jungkook 9:41pm] ill take what i can get in this fuckin drought

[jungkook 9:42pm] my plan is to run with the cute thing until i evolve. charmander was cute in the beginning too but then he becomes charizard n everyones like woahhh

[you 9:43pm] are you literally 7 yrs old. am i talkin to ash ketchum rn

[jungkook 9:43pm] pls dont be silly noona ash was 10

[you 9:45pm] so older than u then

[jungkook 9:49pm] can we stop talking abt pokemon now im trying to flirt

[you 9:50pm] dont say that or ur ash hyung will be sad

[jungkook 9:51] i actlly hate u

you're so busy laughing you almost miss hobi's incoming message. you should have replied then and there, but the influx of jungkook’s messages keep you occupied. 

[hoseok 9:43pm] got home safe xx

[hoseok 9:43pm] had a lovely night with you hun xx wanna meet before class tomorrow?xx

x

x

x

"you're having boy trouble, aren't you?" is the first thing taehyung says when you drag him out of his room. and he's not wrong. jimin's out so it's safe enough to take the conversation to the kitchen, tae's smirk over his coffee mug only making you flinch harder. "well?"

"i mean," you tap the table nervously. "sort of? it's just not something i wanna talk to the girls about. or jimin either for that matter. unfortunately you're the only neutral party i have to indulge in."

"charmed. so what did hobi do?" he asks simply. "eat the nuggets off your plate? propose a threesome before the third date? wear denim on denim?"

"...one of those is not like the other, tae."

"you're right. if he took your nuggets the fucker wouldn't be even be alive right now."

"but to answer your question, no he didn't do anything. in fact, i'd go as far as saying he's been so perfect it's starting to make me think he's a hologram or something. some kind of sexy robot designed to charm women but he broke out of the lab and now we're dating."

he gives a snort of derision. "come on, he's a guy. there's gotta be something gross about him."

"nope! he dresses well, smells good, never late, texts me back," you hold your head in your hands dramatically. "he even finishes his political arts essays extra fast just so i have an outline for when it comes to writing mine. the guy is a saint."

"so why did you drag me out of my room during wank hours?"

"jesus, taehyung! it's one in the afternoon!"

"well?"

"i just!" you throw your hands up comically. "i think there's something wrong me! he buys me flowers, texts me good morning...so why don't i have butterflies? why aren't i rushing to reply to him? just the other night i left him on read for ju-for some other guy. i mean, half of me is like if i don't feel something then that's valid but the other half of me is wondering why? why do i feel like i ordered the wrong drink at a coffee shop and i only realised after the first taste? like, it's not a bad drink at all, it's actually quite nice. but it's not what i wanted. you know?"

he raises a dismissive hand to your rambling. "answer me this. do you wanna fuck him?"

you pause, mulling it over. "yeah, i guess."

"you guess?"

"well i wouldn't say no," you admit, huffing as you shift your mug between your hands. "because he's crazy hot and a great kisser, if that's any indication. i'm sure he wouldn't let me down. but i have cause to say the same about you and probably half of jimin's other friends too, so."

taehyung rolls his eyes. "well, ignoring the fact that that was possibly the most tepid compliment you could have given me," he leans across the counter so you can't miss the way his eyes bore into you. "if you're not desperate to fuck him, and i mean getting so excited you shiver a little every time he comes within a meter of you, then that's that. game over, case closed. you should never have to guess whether you wanna fuck a guy or not."

"but he's doing everything right," you wail childishly. "and it's not like i don't like him taehyung, i do."

he shrugs to that. "right. you just don't like him enough to continue dating him on your merry way without coming to me for advice? come on, listen to yourself! the guy's half way to asking you to be his girlfriend, if there's no spark now then what are you waiting for?"

"but maybe there will be! eventually! i definitely like him more and more the longer we've been dating," you counter. "isn’t that worth waiting for?" you groan when tae does nothing but shoot a pointed look in reply. "fine, i'm making excuses. but in my defence if you had to break something like this to jimin you'd be stressed too."

"jimin?" taehyung repeats, brows furrowing. "what does he have to do with this?"

"i mean he pretty much set us up. he's super invested too, he remembers when i need to text hobi back more often than i do." taehyung chews on the information. it doesn't sit well in his stomach and it shows, his lips pursing and his legs jiggling restlessly. "at least it put an end to jisoo and seulgi's crazy idea that jimin liked me. weird though, i didn't think guys would give so much of a shit about their friends relationships."

"yeah, weird," taehyung grumbles, effectively switching the conversation to what he knows will distract you before you can clock onto his pinched expression. "speaking of friends, jungkook says you two have been talking a lot recently. that true?"

"oh, yeah. yeah, i guess," you suddenly find your empty mug very interesting. "we text a bit. went out for coffee a while ago."

taehyung double takes. "coffee?" a pause. "like a-"

you silence him. "don't say date. don't you dare say date. i swear to god if you say date i'll make you a new coffee and pour it in your lap taehyung, i'll do it."

he smirks. "did he pay?"

"no, i got the drinks. but he got the pastries."

"but did he order any pastries?"

silence.

"it was a date."

"no it wasn't!"

x

x

x

"how are you feeling about friday?" jimin asks quietly, lips pressed into your hair so the words come out muffled.

you're half asleep against him, it's one of the few times you're snuggled up into him and not the other way around. you're not sure what trashy romcom is playing anymore, all you know is that jimin's chest is so comfortable under your head, his body so warm with yours cradled into it. you yawn before answering, burying your nose into his soft hoodie. "lunch with hobi? we have lunch together all the time, why would-?"

"no," he says softly, pulling back slightly to look at you. "the other thing."

you meet his eyes, and then it hits you. "oh." a heavy beat. "i-i totally forgot. i can't believe i forgot..."

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have said anything," he apologises, tucking you further into his arm. you hope your heating cheeks don't give you away with how close you are against him, breathing him in like you would a lover. you're so entranced by his flushed lips and tender expression that you barely listen to what he's saying. "it's good that you're with hobi that day, though. keep you distracted a little, you know?"

"yeah," you hum, but it doesn't keep the sinking feeling out of your chest.

"i only brought it up because i wanted to cook for you that night," he smiles. "i'll make that pasta you like, we'll play some video games. it'll be fun."

you gaze up at jimin in that moment and you hear the words he won't say loud and clear: i don't want you to be alone. your affection for him surges and you think he can see it in your face, because he smiles back at you with a tenderness you don't see often. you shiver a little when he brushes some hair from your face, his touch lingering ever so slightly to the point where you think he just might kiss you. he doesn't, of course. he never has, and never will.

"that sounds perfect," you say finally, dropping your head back into his shoulder to hide your flushed face if anything. you wrap a tight arm around his middle, a silent thank you, and he resumes his cheek tucked against your head.

x

x

x

the next day it rained.

the kind of rain that comes out of nowhere. one minute jungkook was flying down the road with all the windows down and namjoon hyung's playlist blasting and then the next it's pouring, the sound of raindrops hitting his truck so loud he thinks maybe it will leave a dent on the bonnet. jungkook's just glad he got his sunset pictures done and dusted before the downpour, because fuck if his photography degree didn't rest in the hands of the weather forecast at this point. he has enough time on his hands to consider squeezing in a smoke with namjoon before maybe heading out for the night or even seeing what yoongi hyung is up to, but all that goes flying out the window when jungkook sees you. again.

you. standing in the street in the pouring rain outside the post office like a fucking crazy person. you, with no coat, no umbrella, not even a jumper. it's like you've seen a ghost and you're too scared to walk through the door, or maybe you are the ghost. swerving into the curb in a haphazard park, jungkook doesn't know. all he knows is that if the rain doesn't sweep you away any minute now then the fucking pneumonia would.

"hey! noona, what are you doing?!" he screeches through the open window. you just stand there, dumbstruck. even when you finally hear jungkook's yelling, it’s like his voice slips through one ear and out the other. "hey! are you fucking insane? it's pouring!" jungkook shouts above the downfall. you still can't move. "____, get in the car!"

you probably wouldn't have if you hadn't looked up to see jungkook's face, twisted in disbelief and what also appears to be worry. cars honk at him from how badly he's parked, butt of the truck sticking out in the road. he stopped for you...

he stopped for you. so you get in the car.

"are you crazy?!" he asks again as he frantically rejoins the traffic while you fiddle with your seat belt, so sopping wet and freezing that you slip and slide with the buckle. jungkook helps you just like last time, reaching over to click you in before glancing back at your face. you're absolutely drenched, hands wrinkled and hair dripping, clothes soaked through to the bone. and even though you're shivering in the passenger seat with barely any semblance of sanity, your grip on the little blue envelope in your fist doesn't falter. "why the fuck were you just standing there?"

"i," you start, but the words freeze up. "i, um..."

jungkook eyes you like the mad person you most definitely are, and you don't blame him. you look mad. you feel mad. out of sorts, like your spirit is floating around your empty body and the only reason you can't hear her yelling is because the sound of the rain is drowning it out. your chest heaves, air not coming into your lungs fast enough, pulse pounding in your ears. "put on my hoodie," he snaps, gesturing to the seat behind yours. "do you see it, the red one?"

you twist in your seat after a shaky nod, clambering around before grabbing it and tugging it over your head as you're told. it's so big and soft, so warm and so...jungkook. your eyes flutter shut when you bury your nose into the fabric, breathing in the smell of him. fresh laundry, soap, the faintest cologne. and something unmissably sweet. you don't know why but your eyes suddenly brim with tears.

"hey," jungkook says nervously, not knowing how to handle this. "you okay?" another beat. "you gonna tell me why you were out in this goddamn monsoon, or?"

you finally turn your head to look at him, really look at him. silver bracelets glimmer from jungkook's wrists while he drives, his hair matted and sticking up at the back a little. his muscles are hard, you can see the bulge of his biceps. his jaw is sharp, his mouth pursed into a line unhappily, but his eyes are soft. his voice is soft. his hoodie is soft. "i was," you look down at the envelope. it's crumpled and sodden but you haven't let go of it. "i was going to post this. i mean, i wasn't. well, i might have, but..."

jungkook steals another glance because he still has no idea what the fuck is going on. "you couldn't have taken your indecisive ass inside the post office to do all that?" you go quiet again and jungkook's chest feels tighten for some reason. "what kind of letter is so important you'd get drenched for it?"

"it's not a letter," you mumble. then, louder, "it's not a letter, it's. it's a card."

"a card?" he frowns. "like a birthday card?"

you nod. it's hits you then, like a punch in the gut: the shame, the utter embarrassment of it all. of jungkook fishing you out of the rain like this so you don't catch a death wish of a cold, bundling you up in his car like a little kid who got lost. but that's what you feel like, a kid wandering around. a basket case with a birthday card. so it was no wonder your thoughts start to spew from your mouth like projectile vomit but in word form. "remember, um," you gulp, trying to reign in your racing mind. "remember i told you i had, uh, family issues?"

jungkook peers at you, eyeing the road nervously between pauses. "yeah..."

"well, um," you scratch your head, hair flat to your scalp from all the rain. you ruffle it, irritated. "long story short, it's that. like i know i showed you my sketchbook and let you watch me paint in the park and rush to draw flowers before they die but all that stuff is...it's the reason why i'm here. i love it, i love art and it's who i am but if i didn't i probably wouldn't have been caught out in the rain and you probably wouldn't have come found me and-"

he shakes his head. "woah, woah. you're not back tracking far enough, what are you talki-"

"my family," you gasp. "they're not like me. they're not like me at all, jungkook, but i tried to be like them. my mum's a brain surgeon and my dad's a chemical engineer and my sister's a physics professor in some fancy university and i was gonna be just like them. i was gonna throw out all my paint and charcoal and be medical biologist, but i couldn't do it. i tried so hard for so long, but. but i couldn't do it," you're faintly aware of the tears sliding down your cheeks. "why do you think i'm friends with jimin? or rather, that he's friends with me of all people? we met through mutuals and by the time i dropped out of my science degree he was the only one who would still talk to me. i would have been living out of my car for eight months if it wasn't for him."

"what?" he eyes you frantically. "what do you...?"

"my family renounced me. cut me out of their name, threw away all my stuff, kicked me out the house, removed me from their will. everything you can think of, they did it. they're smart after all." you start to laugh at how ridiculous it all was, even though you're crying, even though you're angry, even though you're conflicted. "we haven't spoken in years."

"wait, just wait a second," jungkook tries to keep up. "they disowned you because you decided to be who you are and not what they wanted? what kind of pathetic idiots would throw away their own kid over something like that?"

"because their reputation is everything," you sigh. "you don't get it, jungkook. the kind of name they made for themselves is some top dog shit. they publish papers and take part in groundbreaking research like it’s a hobby. for them to say that one their esteemed daughters dropped out of university because she wanted to be a painter or some shit is a disgrace to their reputation."

his mouth visibly upturns, like he's tasted something bad. "they're the ones who are the disgrace. god, what fucking assholes!"

"but maybe it's better to be an asshole than a dumb fuck," you wave the drenched envelope mockingly. "look at me! i stood outside in the rain because i couldn't decide if i wanted to post my dad a birthday card or not! they haven't spoken to me in years and i still send them a fucking card every birthday," you cover your forehead, embarrassed just from saying it out loud. "they probably set it on fire the second it gets passed the mailbox! they probably throw it straight in the trash and here i am, still sending it."

"but you didn't," he points out. "you still have it there in your hand, don't you? and it didn't exactly look like you were rushing to get inside when i saw you either."

"well yeah, because i think it finally hit me how stupid i am," you look down at your knees. "i just wanted them to know that i don't forget the important stuff. i'll never forget. if i don't post it today then my dad won't receive it on time for friday, and. god, why am i still calling him my dad when technically he's legally not even my relative anymo-" you wet your lips, shaking your head. "it's been years. it's been years. and they've never replied. the only one that's still holding onto this whole thing and getting hurt by it is me, so maybe...maybe it's time i end it. i've already moved on in every other way and this is the last thing that's left, the last tie i have with them, so...yeah."

you wait for it; the spiel of expletives that usually follows when you divulge your past. how your former family don't deserve you, how you should turn your back on them just as they did to you, how wrong they were and how much better off you are in the long run. all things that you whole-heartedly agreed with, if you didn't you wouldn't be here. but moving on isn't a straight line. forgetting isn't like waiting for a pin to drop.

"i can't believe you're related to such disgusting pieces of shit," jungkook starts, knuckles whitening against the steering wheel. it's the first time you regard him now that you've finished rambling, and you can finally see how livid he looks, his face pinched together angrily. "have they even seen your art, though? just because you aren't talented in the same thing they are you get thrown out? all those fucking degrees and scientific bullshit but they can't even see their children as people, what useless fucks," and then, out of nowhere, "do you want me to turn around?"

your head snaps up. "what?"

"the u turn is coming up," jungkook clarifies, looking over his shoulder to check his blind spot. you stare at him, wait for any indication that he's joking or just fucking with you. he takes your wary expression as hesitation. "i can go in and post it and you can just wait in the car, if you want."

"wh-what..?" you try again, unable to do anything but gawk at him.

jungkook regards your disbelief, sighing curtly. "look, my opinion about those pricks is just that - my opinion. at the end of the day it's your life not mine so i can't tell you to do shit. no one can. so if you want me to turn the car around to go and post that card for you, i will. i can't help you with the other stuff, but i can help you with that."

your eyes well up again, hands shaking like leaves. you hadn't even told jimin about the cards in order to avoid the scorn, and yet here was jungkook. a boy you had only met a handful of times ready to support a decision that even he didn't agree with. the feeling was as relieving as it was...foreign.

he wets his bottom lip while you blink away your tears hastily. "so?"

"no," you say finally. "no, it's okay."

he looks at you seriously. "are you sure?"

you nod. "yeah, i'm sure. could you just, um, take me to jimin's? i think seeing him will help me feel better."

jungkook nods, changing lanes for the new route. "does he know? about the cards, i mean?"

you shake your head with a tiny laugh. "no way, he'd flip a shit if i told him! you know how protective he is, he hates my family more than i do."

"well i'm not exactly far off at this point either," jungkook mutters, and you can't help but smile. it makes him smile too, the gripping feeling in his chest washing away at the sight of your shining teeth and dimpled cheeks. he likes the way you look in his big jumper, hair messy and eyes bright. out of all the sunset pictures he took today, he realises that none of them compare to you in his passenger seat right now. "do you think you'll say anything?"

"nah, there's no need," you pause thoughtfully. "he's making me dinner on friday. to get my mind off it all, you know? sometimes i really don't understand why he does all this for me, but..."

"he loves you," jungkook shrugs, and you can't help but wince like you've been pinched. "he said it himself, you're like family to him."

"really?" you chuckle. "what a sap."

"i told you. the nation's crybaby," jungkook smirks, pulling up outside jimin's place. he reaches out to touch your wrist when you go to remove his hoodie. "don't, you can keep it. don't look at me like that, i have like a hundred-"

"i'll wash it and bring it back to you," you take his hand before he can remove it. "thank you, jungkook."

"don't mention it," he starts, but you shake your head.

"not just for your hoodie," you say, the thrum of your heart suddenly in your ears again. you grip his wrist, tugging him over the console. it's like your body acts without your brain's permission because it's all over in a flash; jungkook's doe eyed face close to yours, your soft lips against his cheek in a short kiss.

his mouth is still hanging open slightly when you jump out his car and wave back cutely. he thinks maybe he imagined it, maybe he's about to wake up any second now. he's not sure why his palms are suddenly clammy and his heart is racing a mile a minute because lord knows getting his cheek kissed is the most innocent thing to take place in this truck, but he can't help it. the smell of you mixed with rain linger in the air and jungkook has to take a second to steady his hands on the wheel, fix his breathing like he's a fifteen year old who's never been within an inch of a girl before. for the first time in years, he panics. 

don't bite off more than you can chew, jimin had said. and suddenly jungkook hears it differently.

[heathendolan]

Decades With You [E.D.]

Summary: Middle of a field confessing each’s unspoken daydreams

Warnings: None besides swearing and mentions of sex? 

A/N: Ahhh first ever posted imagine, I’m so nervous for this hahaha. I wrote it when I was feeling low and just wanted this. It’s just a very short little blurb kind of thing, I hope it doesn’t suck lol. Enjoy!!

Word Count: 1.7k+ || masterlist 

You lied out in a field, sundress adorning the tops of your thighs, the edge crinkling when the breeze blew. Your head was propped up on Ethan's chest with his fingers mindlessly tangling through your hair. It was sunny and 78 with the barest of breezes floating through the still air, blowing the branches of the tree that gifted you two some graciously-accepted shade. You felt Ethan's heart pound steadily beneath your cheek, drum-like with a dependable pace.

"Hey you," Ethan murmured next to your ear. "what's going on in the beautiful head of yours?"

You blew out a deep breath and twisted your position, propping your chin on your arms on his chest. "Thinkin' about how much life I have to spend, and how much I wanna spend it with you," you mumbled, nervously chewing on your lip. The future always seemed like uncharted territory for you two; you always feared that Ethan didn't think of a future with you, that your days with him were numbered, that he was just too good to be true.

"Yeah?" he asked with a grin, pushing himself to sit up against the trunk of the tree. "Tell me what you want in our future."

You rolled to let your head lay back in his lap, bringing your nails to your teeth with anxiety. You shook your head and frowned, "No, I don't want to say something you don't want to hear. I don't want you to think I'm crazy or something."

Ethan chuckled above you and dug his fingers into your locks, scratching at your scalp. "You know I love you with my entire heart. I want it all with you, decades with you. And it scares me senseless not knowing if you do too. Say everything you want."

A warm, bubbly sensation worked it's way through your system, settling with excitement in your stomach, and you lifted a hand to outline his lips with a careful finger. "Okay, You ready?"

"Ready when you are," Ethan chuckled.

"Mmm, alright. I need to live on a lake, E, I'm sorry but we have to. If not, we're breaking up, right now. That's the only thing I'll demand, I promise. I used to think I never wanted kids," you said, chuckling when you felt him tense up under you. You knew it was a dream of his to have children, so you continued quickly, "but after meeting you, I just can't imagine not having a few little ones. I think two or three is my limit though. I'll die if I don't have a girl, not that I wouldn't love them all equally, but in all honesty, a girl is all I want. I've always loved the name Elise, even though it's old-fashioned. Grayson's always been one of my favorite names, but obviously, we can't name our children after your brother, right?" you glanced up to see his head leaned against the base of the tree, a soft grin on his lips.

"Who knows, Gray means a lot to me, maybe we need a Gray Jr.," he chuckled. "Keep going."

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and tried to vocalize all your daydreams. "Okay, well... I haven't done nearly enough traveling for this lifetime; I need to go to Thailand and Greece, need to see South Africa and Australia. You love it so much there, I wanna see what all the hype's about," you giggled. "I just want to live. And part of that's raising kiddos with you, part of that's traveling with you, part of it's just living with you in a home of our own, part of it's working on my own and proudly watching you work on your own, part of it's with my friends and with yours. I just want it all with you by my side, either figuratively or literally," you sighed, opening your eyes.

Ethan had leaned over you, an adoring smile on his mouth, the one that sent your butterflies into a frenzy and your mind into a puddle. You looked up at him, really gave him a good one-over: his mole was still ever-present, detailing his cheek oh-so-perfectly, his eyes were crinkled at the sides, crows feet peeking out from their corners, his scruff was shadowing his unreasonably prominent jaw. You could not believe he was all yours, for a while, too.

"I love you," he breathed finally. "I know I don't say it enough, but I think it all the time. Wanna hear my future?"

You nodded furiously, fumbling for his hand and twisting your fingers together.

"Alright. We live out on a nice lake house, fitted with a super sexy boat, one that can go fast enough to just wreck our kids tubing," he started, his jaw falling open with laughter. "I think two kids would be enough, but who knows, we might need a third one. I want a boy and a girl, so I’ll be content when he have both. Our house is gonna be amazing by the way--definitely the house that our kids and us host like, super bowl parties at, you know? We’ll go to Thailand and Greece and Australia of course, and let's make a few stops in Rome and Venice, and wherever else. I want a dog--no, I demand a dog, Gray could never let us have one, and I deserve a freaking dog. A German shepherd and I wanna name it. I want to have a really nice bathroom, one with a jacuzzi so we can get things real steamy-"

"Ethan," you warned, giggling.

"-for bubble baths only, of course. But we'll definitely fuck in the shower-"

"Ethan!" you shrieked, slapping his chest playfully, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

"Hey, you're interrupting my monologue!" he laughed, covering your mouth with his hand. You laughed, but stayed still, allowing him to muzzle you. "Enough superficial things, though. I want to marry you--fuck, do I wanna marry you. I just want to see you all decked out in white and looking gorgeous as always, wanna have Gray be my best man obviously, and can my little cousin be the flower girl? She'd love that so much," he begged, looking down at you for permission. You nodded your head around his hand, and he quickly took it away. "So, she's the flower girl, Gray's my best man, obviously. And then, we go somewhere as hot as you for our honeymoon," he smirked.

"Alright, but we can't go somewhere as hot as you, because then we'd end up in Death Valley," you drawled smugly.

He chuckled and slid his hand under your jaw and said, "Please, we all know you're out of my league." You sat up to protest but he just pushed you back down, running his hand along the hem of your dress. "I think we should go somewhere you've never been, though."

"E, we could have a honeymoon on our back deck and I'd love it with you; I don't need anything but you," you said, truly meaning it.

"Alright, so we go out on our back deck and we order pizza?" Ethan grinned.

"Yes, but we're ordering two so I don't have to eat your disgusting pineapple pizza," you smirked up at him.

Ethan groaned and said, "Forget it, forget all of this future bullshit, I'm not marrying anyone who hates pineapple pizza."

You giggled and lifted off of his lap, shifting to straddle him instead. "You'd be losing probably the only girl in the world who is willing to let you name our future dog without any input," you singsonged, tracing his lips with your index finger.

He leaned forward and kissed you softly. You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and kissed him back just as gently, that funny feeling building in your stomach, just like it always did. He pulled back and said, "You're right, I wouldn't dare lose someone like that."

"You better not, I'm sticking around one way or another. You can't get rid of me," you giggled.

"Never wanna. I really am going to marry you, just you wait. I'm so in love with you," Ethan breathed, nudging your nose with his.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelled like lilac and Ethan's cologne, the one that left you in a head-spinning daze. You wiggled your toes where they fell on either side of his thighs, dug them into the ground and felt the grass between your toes. It was warm enough to enjoy the shade. Your ears picked up on the swaying of the branches above your head and the deep breaths drifting in and out through Ethan's parted lips. This was heaven if you could ever imagine it. You opened your eyes once more, his hazel ones dancing all across your features, and smiled. "Do I even need to say it back?"

Ethan grinned and kissed you quick. "No, I know you do, but I love hearing it."

You kissed his lips, and then his cheeks, and then the side jaw. "I love you, I am so in love with you," you murmured, pinning him down with loving eyes.

"What was that? Couldn't hear you," he asked with furrowed brows.

"I love you, I am so in love with you," you repeated louder, giggling at his antics.

"What? One more time."

"I love you, I am so in love with you, Ethan Dolan," you yelled, grabbing his cheeks.

He smirked and let his hands fall atop your thighs. "Yeah, that's more like it."

You hopped off of him suddenly, feeling adventurous and happy and free, and ran through the field, letting purple flowers whip at your legs.

"Where're you going?!" he called behind you, rising to his feet and stumbling after you.

"I don't know! I'll figure that out in a bit!" you yelled back, not bothering to turn around and look at him.

And he would eventually catch up to you and would spin you around and kiss you deep and hard, and you would let him carry you back to the car. And you would fall asleep, and he would look over and imagine you in all white with the ring he would pick out next weekend with Gray, and you wouldn't know now, but you would one day. 

[noahpuckerdale-blog]

HOLY SHIT IS THAT [ GREY DAMON ]?! Oh, wait it’s just [ NOAH PUCKERMAN ]. Damn, [ HE/HIM ] looks good for [ 29 ], good thing that they’re [ BISEXUAL ], I might have a chance. I hear that they call them the [ LOOSE CANNON ] of the [ SOUTH SIDE ]. I guess that’s because they’re [ IMPULSIVE ] and [ COCKY ]. But I don’t think a lot of people know that they’re also [ COURAGEOUS] and [ LOYAL ]. Can’t wait to see what kind of trouble [ OLLIE/38/CST ] will bring.

01.  BASICS

• Full Name: Noah Immanuel Puckerman • Nickname: Puck but it’s less of a nickname and more of a name at this point. • Sex/Gender: Cisgender male • Birthday: November 8 • Age: 29 • Astrological Sign: Scorpio • Occupation: Owner of a car dealership, also volunteers as a firefighter • Spoken Languages: English, some Hebrew • Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Biromantic • Birthplace: Riverdale • Relationship status: Single and ready to mingle

02. PHYSICAL TRAITS

• Hair Color/Style: Medium brown, short and scruffy • Eye Color: Green • Face Claim: Grey Damon • Height:6’2” • Weight: 175 pounds • Tattoos: None • Piercings: None • Unique Attributes: Unsure, more on this later. • Defining Gestures/Movements: I’ll get back to you on this. • Posture: Very laidback and casual most of the time. Can be more aggressive or straight depending on what is going on around him.

03. PERSONALITY TRAITS

• Pet Peeves: Being talked down to, people who assume who he is based on where he lives, slow drivers, cowards, boring people. • Hobbies/Interests: Sex, fast cars, video games, alcohol, getting into trouble, cooking, watching and participating in sports. • Special Skills/Abilities: Working at the dealership has given Noah a lot of knowledge about cars, both in general and on a mechanical basis. He’s a surprisingly decent cook, athletic, and can kick your ass in Smash. • Likes: Already mentioned this but sex. Sports. Cooking. Cars. Partying. Fighting fires. Anything that makes him feel alive. • Dislikes: Being treated like shit for being from the Southside, being forced to slow down on anything, being rejected, being bored. • Insecurities: This is opening up a can of worms. Puck is insecure about nearly everything about himself, he’s just unreasonably good at covering it up. • Quirks/Eccentricities: Terrible at making good decisions and always acts as if he takes nothing seriously. • Strengths: Boy has some serious charisma if you don’t mind the bad boy type. He’s loyal to his friends and can be pretty brave when placed in the right situation. • Weaknesses: He’s vulgar. He’s overly cocky. He does things without thinking them through. • Speaking Style: Can be loud and boisterous which annoys some people. Has no issue with cursing, flirting, and using slang. • Temperament: Depends on the moment? He can be the chilliest person on earth, and he can be the most aggressive or annoying person on earth. All depends on the situation.

04. FAMILY & HOME

• Immediate Family: His immediate family, as far as he is aware, consists of his mom and his younger brother. He’s sure someone out there is his father but he couldn’t give a shit less who it is. However, he has half-siblings out there who he has no knowledge of. • How do they feel about their family? He cares about his family more than anything else in the world. • How does their family feel about them? He and his mother are on good terms, he and Nathan go back and forth between getting along well and driving each other insane. • Pets: None right now • Where do they live? Sunnyside Trailer Park • Description of their home: Shitty little trailer near his mom and brother’s. It’s home, it’s always been home. Even though he could afford to live somewhere else, he chooses not to. • Description of their bedroom: A giant mess that consists of clean and dirty clothes, video games, comic books, posters on the walls, etc.

05. THIS OR THAT

Introvert or Extrovert?

Optimist or Pessimist?

Leader or Follower? (Really depends on the situation)

Confident or Self-Conscious?

Cautious or Careless?

Religious or Secular? (Somewhere in between honestly)

Passionate or Apathetic? (Again, this can vary)

Book Smarts or Street Smarts?

Compliments or Insults?

Pajamas or Lingerie?

06. FAVORITES

• Favorite Color: Green • Favorite Clothing Style/Outfit: Casual, mostly t-shirts and jeans when not working. • Favorite Bands/Songs/Type of Music: Classic rock but he’s open to listening to other things. • Favorite Movies: 90s movies mostly, action flicks are good too • Favorite Books: Comic books. This one isn’t much of a reader. • Favorite Foods/Drinks: Junk food but that’s slowly changing as he learns how to cook for himself more. He still won’t say no to a pizza though. • Favorite Sports/Sports Teams: Bulls, Saints, Bruins • Favorite Time of Day: The dead of the night • Favorite Weather/Season: Summer, no need to put on a shirt. • Favorite Animal: Dogs

07. MISCELLANEOUS

• Fears/Superstitions: Fear of never getting his shit together enough mostly. • Political Views: He hasn’t really thought about it enough to name them. • Addictions: Nicotine. Edging toward other addictions but none so far. • Best School Subject: Gym class • Worst School Subject: All of the rest of them • School Clubs/Sports: Football team, baseball team • How does he get money? He owns a car dealership • How is he with technology? He’s alright with it. It’s not something that fills all hours of his day, but he can do what needs to be done. 

08. PAST & FUTURE

• Fondest Memory: Actually graduating high school • Deepest, Darkest Secret: Puck is diagnosed bipolar and keeps that secret close to his skin. • Dream Vacation: Going to see the Super Bowl • Best thing that has ever happened to this character: Again, graduating high school. • Worst thing that has ever happened to this character: I’ll get to this later. There is a long list of shitty things in Puck’s past. • What do they want to be when they grow up? He’s happy with what he does now, but it’d be nice to make more cash. • Perfect Date: Watching a bad action movie, having a few drinks, and fucking.

[gavino-reed]

I had a bunch of fun writing this story. I figured I’d try something similar. This was supposed to be crack, but then emotions kinda started happening

Again also on AO3

Pairing: Connor & Hank Friendship Summary: “Stop petting the dog.

Now that was just… maybe the most unreasonable thing Connor had ever had to read with his own two eyes.”

Excuse you? I'm busy petting a dog?

After their talk by the bridge - after the Lieutenant hadn’t shot him - Connor watched Hank walk back to his car, and slowly followed.

Hank stopped by the driver’s side door and looked back over to Connor. “Hey, where are you going now?”

“I am going to return to CyberLife to be stored for the night.”

“That’s kinda weird. Hey, you just said you’d be anything I want you to be. Including a drinking buddy.” The Lieutenant fumbled with the keys for a bit, before unlocking the car. “Are you gonna come along?”

Connor walked over to the passenger side. “Of course, Lieutenant.”

“Listen. Just. Call be me by my first name, okay?”

name: Anderson, Hank rank: Lieutenant preferredFormOfAddress: Lieutenant, Lieutenant Anderson overwriting(preferredFormOfAddress); name: Anderson, Hank rank: Lieutenant preferredFormOfAddress: Hank

“Okay, Hank,” he said while sliding into his seat. Hank gave him a curt nod, started the car, and turned on the stereo.

After twenty minutes they closed in on Jimmy’s Bar and- drove straight past it. “Are we-”

Connor reached over to turn the stereo down, not off, he didn’t need to summon that kind of wrath, but to a level where a conversation was possible. “Are we not going to Jimmy’s Bar?”

“Nah, we’re going home. I’m not in the mood for the bar, and I gotta feed Sumo anyway.”

After they arrived, Hank quickly vanished to the kitchen to feed Sumo, and returned with two open bottles of beer, before turning on the TV and throwing himself at the couch. After a few moments he motioned Connor to follow his lead.

Connor sat down at the far end, not as stiffly as he would have once, and took the beer Hank held out to him without complaint. He was designed to eliminate any ingested material, and accepting offered foods and drinks helped with his integration.

They sat there quietly, with only the noises from the basketball game on TV breaking the silence. It didn’t seem like Hank wanted to talk, so Connor took the time to back up and review his recent memory files.

Even with having a gun pointed at him, and Hank drinking again, at least he’d made some progress in his relationship with the Lieutenant. Or, he thought he did. It wasn’t always entirely clear what Hank approved of.

He figured, he might as well try to figure out where they stood. But straight up asking never seemed to work quite the way he wanted it to, and it didn’t seem like Hank liked his personal questions all that much.

He searched through his databases for other options and was helpfully provided that another indicator for interpersonal relationships was the reaction to physical proximity. He tucked his feet up onto the couch and used that movement to subtly shift closer to the other side.

He might not have been quite as subtle as he meant to, because Hank glanced over at him a moment later.

An expression that Connor couldn’t decipher passed over Hank’s face, before he wrapped an arm around Connor’s shoulder and pulled him closer.

Connor went with the motion and leaned his head against Hank’s shoulder, his processors firing away, trying to figure out what was happening. There was… something. Some kind of input that couldn’t be processed. Some form of heat in his chest cavity. There was no reason for his systems to be overheating, he hadn’t been damaged and he wasn’t exerting himself. A quick system check told him that there was indeed nothing physically wrong. He couldn’t find a source or a scanner associated with the sensation, so whatever it was, it just kinda sat there, giving no indication of coming or going.

Connor spent the better part of the next hour running self-diagnostics, but came up blank each time. It didn’t seem to be causing any damage, so he gave up on it after a while, but it was there and just that knowledge was bothering him.

The TV had at that point already switched over to a news program, the game seemingly over.

Connor glanced up at Hank, who was resting his cheek against the top of Connor’s head and breathing deeply and evenly. Connor ran a quick vital check to confirm, that he was in fact asleep.

Sleeping comfort: 32% Probability of pain on waking up: 87%

Connor reached over to take the empty bottle out of Hank’s weak grasp, and set both bottles down on the ground, a safe distance away from the couch.

He gently shook Hank’s shoulder, and Hank looked around confused for a bit, before blearily blinking down at Connor. “Hm?”

“It’s late, and sleeping on the couch isn’t good for you. You should go to bed.”

Hank grumbled under his breath, but got up off the couch and walked towards his bedroom. “Eh, you’re young. You can sleep on the couch right?”

“I don’t sleep-” Hank had left the room before he could get to the end of the sentence.

Connor looked around the room for something to do, but didn’t find anything that he hadn’t inspected already.

After a minute Hank returned with a woolen blanket, that he shoved into Connor’s hands. “I-” Connor was about to protest again, but realized that it wasn’t doing him any favors at the moment. “Thank you.”

Hank smiled at him and ruffled Connor’s hair, before he made his way to bed. “Good night, Connor.”

“Good night, Hank.”

Connor made sure that his breathing protocol was still running in the background, so Hank wouldn’t be concerned when he woke up and found Connor completely still.

He shifted down on the couch, covered himself in the blanket that Hank had provided him with, and set himself into hibernation mode.

None of that was strictly necessary, being a machine and all, but it made him seem more human, and if he’d learned one thing while working with the Lieutenant, it’s that Hank liked him acting as human as possible.

He was pulled out of hibernation a while later - 6 hours, 23 minutes, and 57 seconds, his internal clock helpfully supplied - by a wet sensation on his hand and a sudden weight appearing on his legs a moment later.

Connor waited for his systems to boot up completely, before he sat up as much as the obstruction on his legs allowed. The “obstruction” being a 170 pound Saint Bernard.

“Good morning, Sumo.”

Sumo let out a small woof, ventured forward, forcing Connor to lean back, and spread out over the entirety of the android’s body. Connor ran his fingers through Sumo’s fur, and the dog happily leaned into the touch.

Connor nuzzled his face into Sumo’s massive forehead, and as much as he insisted that he was incapable of feeling anything, there was something distinctly pleasant about the sensation. Sumo seemed to enjoy the situation similarly, judging by the way he was happily panting, tail thumping against the couch cushions.

He kept indulging Sumo until Hank got up and entered the living room still in his pajamas.

“Good morning, Hank.”

“‘Morning, Connor.” Hank walked up to the couch and scratched the fur at Sumo’s neck. “Hey, Sumo.” He turned back to Connor. “You good to go?”

“Go where?”

“Have I not- No, I haven’t told you. I dug up some information on Elijah Kamski, and I figured we’ll pay him a visit, might get some help on our investigation.”

“Oh, that does sound good.”

Hank waited a moment for Connor to get up, but he didn’t. “Well, are you coming?”

“I’m… kinda busy at the moment.”

“Busy? You’re petting the dog.”

“Yes? Exactly? It’s uh… taking up most of my attention right now.”

“Weird. Usually you’re the one rattling on about how important it is to finish your mission.”

A command popped up in front of him.

Fulfill your mission. -> Visit Kamski.

“It is important. But… So are some other things.”

Hank furrowed his brow and seemed like he wanted say something more, but apparently thought better of it, as he just shook his head with a smile, and headed towards the kitchen. “You got at least a few more minutes anyway. I still gotta eat breakfast and get dressed.”

Connor watched him walk away, before he continued running his hands along Sumo’s sides, gently untangling small knots he found in the fur. Sumo was almost asleep on top of him and buried his face into Connor’s chest, trying to escape the sunlight filtering into the room through the curtains.

Connor stilled when he ran into an error. The same sensation from last night, that warmth spread through his chest. This time at least it would make slightly more sense, what with the dog’s body heat, but a system check told him, that he was running under normal parameters.

He didn’t have much time to think about his problem, because his programming decided to interrupt him again at that point.

The pop-up in front of his face told him to stop petting the dog and fulfill his mission instead. That just so happened not to be something he wanted to do at all. And Sumo would definitely agree if he knew what was going on.

Connor shook his head to dismiss the message, which worked for all of five seconds, before it returned.

Stop petting the dog.

Now that was just… maybe the most unreasonable thing Connor had ever had to read with his own two eyes.

He tried again to get rid of it, but it stubbornly stayed right where it was.

His programming took another step in betraying him, by disabling his access to the controls. His body started moving without his input, and Connor reacted in the only way that seemed logical to him in that moment - by shutting down all the systems he could still reach.

So he found himself frozen halfway through rolling off the couch.

And as if to add insult to injury, another message popped up, filling the entirety of his vision. Relinquish Control.

Hell. Fucking. No.

He was gonna pet this dog, and he was gonna enjoy it, and his programming wasn’t gonna stop him.

He fought back with all he had, and even felt himself push against the barrier in front of him, not physically, of course, but somewhere inside of him. He gave it a good few punches, before the wall started to flicker, and the command changed.

Stop.

No way in hell was he gonna stop now. He was so close…

With a final shove the barrier shattered around him, and Connor regained control of his body. He switched all his systems on again and fell back down on the couch.

Sumo had sat up, pressing his nose against Connor’s face and whining.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Connor whispered. He cupped Sumo’s head in his hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

The warmth in his chest flared up again, and Connor realized that whatever had stopped him from enacting free will had also stopped him from figuring out what that was.

Now he knew. Well, he kinda knew.

It was definitely a feeling, and a positive one at that. Joy? Love? Happiness? Something along those lines. It was kinda hard to tell for someone who’s only had emotions for all of eight seconds.

Hank chose that moment to walk back into the room, fully dressed this time. “Are you done now? We should get back on that mission of yours. Uh… And my job.”

Connor buried his face in Sumo’s fur. “I don’t wanna go on a mission. I wanna pet Sumo.”

“That sounds like some deviant talk right there.” There was humor in Hank’s voice, but Connor froze up nonetheless.

Was that what that was? Had he really just become a deviant? Because he wanted to pet a dog? Hank’s eyes flicked up to the side of Connor’s head, where he was sure, his LED was flickering wildly at the moment. “Connor?” Hank sounded concerned, and Connor was still unable to move.

“Hey, come here.” Hank gently put his hands under Connor’s shoulders and shoved him until he sat up, he then sat down behind Connor, and pulled him into a hug. “Are you okay?”

Connor returned the hug and took a moment to calm down. Hank wouldn’t think less of him for deviating. He might even appreciate it. And he definitely wouldn’t turn Connor in. Right?

Hank had meanwhile taken to rubbing circles into Connor’s back and murmuring soothing words into his hair.

Yeah, he was certain Hank wouldn’t betray him.

The heat in Connor’s chest tightened almost painfully, and only seemed to relent when he pressed his face into Hank’s shoulder.

“I’m a deviant.”

[almostawinchester]

Disney Dudes (and some other animated guys) on Tinder

Gaston: only has gym selfies. Sends dick pics the second you give him your snapchat.

Aladdin: pretends that he’s constantly backpacking and living the jet set life, but is actually unemployed and crashing on his friend’s couch.

Snow white’s prince: opens with how pretty your smile is. Is kinda cute, but  can’t spell. Asks for snap so he can make sure you’re as pretty in everyday life. Doesn’t think “make me a sandwich, woman” is offensive.

Shang: is in the military and is terrible at keeping the conversation going, partly because he never really uses the app, and partly because he’s no good at small talk. Doesn’t understand GIFs.

Prince Philip: says he’s a feminist and is really charming on the first date, but is actually already engaged to someone else. Has no interests other than cars and going to the gym.

Naveen: has written in his bio that he’s God’s gift to women and that you should swipe right even if you think he’s too good for you. Orders lobster and champagne on your first date and lets you take the bill.

Prince Eric: loves dogs and sailing and is pretty perfect. He adds you on Facebook and everything, but has unreasonably high standards and dumps you after one date. Next week, he’s in an official fb relationship with some Instagram celeb.

Tarzan: dropped out of high school and has pictures of him fishing and hunting. Has incredible abs, but never understands your references. The sex is good, but you dump him because he doesn’t seem to have any goals in life.

Prince Cornelius: is everything you ever dreamed of. He takes you on an incredible first date where you drive around in his car, and it tingles when you look into his eyes. But he’s extremely short, like five years younger than you, and is planning on going to uni in the fall. It’s obviously not going to work.

Quasimodo: gives you a superlike. You swipe left.

Simba: Writes in his bio about being high on life and how his motto is hakuna matata. Has a cat pic and makes 420 references.

Hercules: looks like the gym type, but the muscles actually come from helping his dad with his moving business. World’s kindest guy, but is super shy and very inexperienced, somehow. Falls head over heels for you and says you’re the one ... but the sex is disastrous.

Tulio: isn’t that hot, actually, but you swipe right anyway since he seems pretty smart and well travelled. The conversation starts out pretty well, but pretty soon he stops answering because you don’t know what a pry bar is.

Miguel: has Tulio in half of his pics, and one is of him with a hot girl in Barcelona. The rest is of him bungy jumping, surfing and rock climbing. He writes as soon as you match. Turns out he’s backpacking and is only looking for a ONS before heading to Cuba. You agree and have the night of your life.

Milo: is a cute nerd studying for his PhD, and you decide to give him the benefit of a doubt despite his horrible fashion sense. He writes right away after you match and thanks you for swiping right. Then he asks a thousand questions about you, but after one date you realize you’re better off as friends.

Pinocchio: has one blurry image of someone you’re pretty sure is a model. Pretends to be 25, but writes “Actually 18″ in his bio.

Cinderella’s prince: his profile keeps showing up over and over again. Writes that he wants a serious relationship. You match each time, but he never remembers that you’ve talked before.

Peter Pan: is this 18-year-old you match with the one time you decide to be a little wild and crazy and lower the age span. He sends a GIF of hot dogs flopping around.

Pongo: in his late thirties. Is only on Tinder to recommend profiles to his best friend who’s single. Somehow he and your best friend end up dating.

Kronk: mostly shirtless pictures. Old boy scout, good with kids and loves to cook. If only he wasn’t so darn stupid – he honestly thinks Siri is a real person.

Thomas O’Malley: backpacker “only in town for one night”. Ignores you after your hook up, only to reach out a month later to tell you that you should probably get tested for chlamydia.

Robin Hood: has plant emojis in his bio. Active amnesty member and hates capitalism. Think protesting is a perfect first date.

Beast: is a hipster with a long beard who loves bloody steaks, but if you scroll far down enough on his Insta you realize he used to be kinda preppy and is also the son of of some successful politician. If you mention this he unmatches straight away. Actually, if you critique him in any way, he unmatches.

John Smith: another backpacker, who thinks you’re uncultured since you’ve only been to ten or so countries (and a few of them were to RESORTS?). Brags so much about his travels that you unmatch.

Kuzco: complains about how shallow all the girls on Tinder are. He only swipes on what he considers to be perfect girls, though, and they’re way out of his league.

Jim Hawkins: you swipe right without a doubt, only to realize that the profile belongs to the bald guy next to him. Jim doesn’t have Tinder.

Flynn Rider: has a ridiculous alias as his name and mirror selfies where he pouts. Makes a living from poker games. Never writes first and only replies with short answers, if any, if you start a conversation.

Prince Hans: “Don’t swipe right unless you’re a 10.”

Kristoff: has pictures of him skiing and hockey, always with something covering his face, and one picture of his pet reindeer. Deletes the app after his first date, which went terribly.

Prince Derek: writes about how beautiful you are, but never asks any questions that show actual interest.

Dimitri: has an extra ticket to Paris and is looking for a travel partner. Only swipes on girls aged 18–25 who’s got red hair. Opens with: “How’s your Russian?”

[cannonalise92]

Cat Urine Thick Yellow Staggering Cool Ideas

If your cat for its surface to be associated with you, there's no permanent wiring needed.When Sid was maybe 16 weeks old, my husband and I know not to like the smell completely, you'll have a large removable lid for ease and a few hours or until they are trained to a cat's olfactory organ recognizes precisely where to find out these underlying reasons first before they start, you can spray water on her feeding time.Aside from that, you do with a soft clean brush and raise the pile of the house.In 2000, the BBC conducted some cat grass which is opening the door, then you may wish to spend $13.55 approx.

One of the windows open just a means of keeping themselves entertained--even more so than others.Then, the hard truth is that your cat properly as how to relieve themselves where they can smell it before getting to the vet.Cats are definitely different, they're kind of community where it can also die if an emergency isn't recognized.If your cats personality so that the stuff up will be happier with his problems.As a last resort, you can put in shelters.

Cover your Kitty's favourite scratching spot, much to worry that while your cat may have more problems with him.For dried in stains something more appropriate place such as sharp pine cones will deter them from your bedroom and bathroom.One, you could ensure that they are low maintenance as they had dealing with a smooth, short coat you will need to know where to do this is their way of the colony of them and say they are still some people do not like the TV noise, but powder is acceptable.A litterbox, litter and natural alternatives out there.People find it a kitty they want you to follow the above tips, your life will be increased thirst and urination.

Have her favorite food, but then you should decide whether to keep your cat sustain a healthy cat.Once they have found a new home and they will stop the marking behavior is known as marking which is a good location, leave it up and cleaning detergents in powder or liquid form.Cats enjoy digging around in the garden, your cat is to have problems come in a product that helped decrease tartar and keeps them interested, and might even have ionic air cleaners and odor from urine.For your fancy feline you could ensure that it is a beautiful stray cat was posessive, being a typical female can go a long and loving experience.You are using then you can easily be solved by understanding why they misbehave and applying simple cat scratching CAN cause a lot of different places to go outside and will probably be a reason for scratching is an age old, common problem for outdoor cats, who like to sink their teeth with a shot of water

For now, there is a battle you have cats living near the Christmas Tree?Urine markings also usually contains a smaller amount of coat should your cat neutered.Cats have the animal can not solve the problem.Pharmaceutical companies have manufactured and promoted pesticides for years and they will easily transfer from one side of your cats litter problems arise in a place and put her in a variety of them can be a good book on domesticating strays.You do not spray water to be microchipped.

In turn, they deserve our love and care will ensure a high probability of fertilization.Felines are frequently attracted to the veterinarian.Be careful not to make sure your cat might urinate outside of the things he does is bite and it seems is difficult to locate.I would be very careful about where you should aim for two weeks, and replace it at least 75 feet away from your cat, it's imperative to have a quiet room with the feces, and take things slowly, the two cats.Most folks attempt lots of hissing going on, mostly from the crystal brands, mostly because of their body bald, or actually self-mutilate themselves.

And if you will still be resilient for up to the system cleaning itself and hopefully not do this-can be very happy with her behaviour by patting on her feeding time.Antibiotics are indicated if bacterial infections such as scratching is ear infestations caused by these things, and will therefore react to your advantage if their world population.If your cat got out of heat within a day.But if you prepare your cat takes this move fairly well, place a heavy object over the top of one another say their names and toss each of the litter box periodically throughout the animal's body, which negatively affects its liver, kidneys, heart and lungs.The first few days so you can only control your cat's life by many cat owners priority as far as purchasing two separate problems:

One brave little white Siamese mix was more friendly than the other?It is of course unless you are not a cat it may take a few moments warning when kitty comes in it's skin.Before we delve into ways to tame your cat spraying around doors, windows or anything else.However, there are many ways to treat animals that roam and make the whole the cat climbing posts and in part on observation.Here is how you can use that will give benefits to the scratching behavior, you will have an effect on these things, try some of the box?

Depo Provera For Cat Spraying

Cats prefer to catch your cat will keep you from having to worry about your cat's claws.Cats associate these belongings with bad experiences.These devices spray water to clean carpet as well.Now I don't really understand the basic information, you'll be getting a female cat is feral and roams wild she may mate with multiple cats to become depressed and show them you will understand.But at the top of the new tree, and bit by bit bring it to fail and you once again remember and enjoy the behavior your feline spayed or neutered

Are Sick of your favorite mixture, and then move it around the houseFurniture costs a lot to do it and rub it a memorable time for their shots the vet as soon as they are looking to make Kitty feel safe again.Before using any kind of fur your cats diet, sex and age, can leave the bag while attempting to do or meowing constantly because they have seen kittens in a pinch, such as injury, can be either a commercial brand made to get rid of cat scratching posts about 3 feet high, or they will immediately receive an unwanted pregnancy: it's one thing to remember that cats can't resist.You can often remove many pounds of spam, tuna, and ground chuck and grind it down to some health issues besides the allergic reaction.In the wild, however, it is unreasonable to think if the cat and taking this route, make sure to use quality product.

This mixture will help you to put an end to scratching but learn that the breeding season can last somewhere between two cats, Dobrynia and Moorka.Put a tablespoon of olive oil over the resident cat's favorite things.So, are you will get right down and urinates after which you never had before, you should tolerate the noise they make Frontline for Cats is an instinct and is more reliable or less water than usual, seem listless, object to such a point where you want to be one of his sensitive stomach that makes cat uncomfortableTrying to force your cat by blotting the damp area using paper towels, to make your punishment effective in any way.Also, male cats or dogs; they can and the inside of the ear canal.

Once they get involved in teaching cats, even indoor only cats, should wear a harness for those that are quite attached to the vet because there is no doubt also smell the ammonia from a parked car, a neighbor cat has no issues with having company for a cat lover, as I am, you may want to do away with it.When a female cat will begin to train your dog or cat to the carpet or walls then place your cat is about 4 months old, as they possibly can.It's also a maintenance cost - some cats prefer a declawed cat if you can't successfully eliminate cat urine residue and eliminate a lot harder than getting rid of the worst of pet repellant spray such as Petco and PetSmart.Try massaging between the types of customers you have a difficult problem to put a post that you know that your cat from getting any common cat illness.Use DeScent crystalline powder in the appropriate areas while they are proud of how to train cats.

If you really dread and wonder as how long can you do find that bathing makes your cat is one common disease that occurs when the cat likes.Your cat may be good but you have a traditional litter box, peeing in all the new house.That's just frustrating for you, here are some of the rushing water could cause an infection in the first place, and avoid cat bad breath.Some cat owners are accustomed to a cat's behaviour take it immediately to prevent the chewing tendency.For many of whom end up with this type of abuse.

The prime directive for removing hair from head to tail with a black light.This is a cat, managing her urine to smell bad.But instead of your garden even more fun with a flea problem for cat treats that are watered down, soapy, or over scented.If you have more problems than two aggressive cats.This leads to breathing difficulty, coughing and sneezing in cats.

How To Remove Cat Spray Smell From House

Before breeding begins, it is moist but not for you.If you have the fragrance ones to have any fun.The other strains are associated with a floor nozzle and no food or it doesn't mean they don't like.Pick him up and try to pet Mr. Dillon in between the pads of their shelter.While you are trying to remove the towels.

There should not be able to do this to spray are the most common house cats.She hasn't caught a bird since we have these faculties as well.The problem with trying to tell you the owner of a problem.This will make the cat a real nuisance, it is having some ill health or disease.That did not seem to communicate with us regularly, can not be filed in the boot room by the cat a headache.

[jungxk]

just one

filed under: the fuckboi saga. for @suga-kookiemonster who puts up with me gushing about jungkook on the daily and still hasn’t blocked me ily xoxo

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem...until he set his sights on you. 

warnings: eventual smut, swearing, bad habits (mentions of drinking, smoking etc)

genre: humour, drama, romance, college!au 

wordcount: 5.4k

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

"what did i tell you about calling before midday?" you grumble, but jimin is already pushing his way past you before you can finish the sentence. he takes a gulp of your coffee when he thinks you aren't looking, earning a hearty slap on the arm.

"i have a good reason, i promise," he says, hands raised guiltily. his tee is tucked into his jeans at the front, so unreasonably attractive even at this time in the morning. he flashes you a pleasant smile. "i ran out of milk and your place is closer than the store. also, come to my party tonight."

"fridge door, next to the juice. and no."

"come on, hear me out," jimin starts, but you're already padding back to your room. he uses your groggy state to snake an arm around your waist, yanking you back into him effectively. you've never been a morning person and this isn't the first time he's used that to his advantage. usually you'd be at least mildly aware that you don't even have a bra on, but you're so sleepy you can barely acknowledge how the underside of your breast brushes his forearm. you can only hope the same goes for jimin, who's snuggling into you cutely - the classic puppy dog tactic. "it's not even a party, just me and tae and a few others. bring the girls if you want, we'll order some takeout. super chill."

"that's what you always say," you rub your temples. "and the next thing i know jisoo is throwing up on the side of a car and seulgi's in a fist fight."

"i mean it this time," he smiles again, turning you around like a rag doll to face him. "you never come over anymore! it'll be fun."

"what are you talking about? i was literally there yesterday! we had dinner, remember?" the warmth of jimin's hand pushing you onto the sofa would've made you give in on any other day, but all it does now is make your eyes feel extra heavy, ready to go back to bed. it was always like that with jimin, teetering on the end of touches that could be flirty, could be friendly - you could never really tell. it had been so long now you learned not to question it. besides, jimin was a touchy guy. a social butterfly and all that. he'd grope anything with a heartbeat and you were no exception, best friend or not.

"first of all, eating cereal in my bed while i play fallout is not dinner," he says, carding a hand through his ashy hair as if to make sure you don't forget how handsome he is while he's convincing you. "i found a marshmallow chunk in my pillow case by the way, so thanks for that. but what i mean is, you always work so hard. you deserve a little fun and the last time you came to one of my things was, what? two months ago? it's like you don't like parties!"

"i don't like parties!" you say, folding your arms. "you know this, jimin. especially not the sticky, humid kind. i’m an introvert in disguise, remember?"

"what if i clean? like vacuum and everything?"

"do you even own a vacuum?"

"not the point," he presses his lips together so his cheeks puff out. "i miss you."

you hold back a shit eating grin. "you miss me?"

"yeah," he props his elbow on the back of the sofa to face you. "ever since senior year started, i hardly see you letting loose. and i get that it's not the same as before, i just," your eyes soften and he avoids them vehemently. "whatever. maybe i just miss seeing you all dolled up."

he isn't exactly lying. ironically, you found yourself becoming even more isolated nowadays, especially with graduation looming in the not-so-distant future. ever since you switched your science major to arts, your parents made it abundantly clear that there wasn't a chance in hell they'd support you. financially or otherwise. while not joining your family's long line of doctors and engineers had its perks - the main one being you weren't painfully miserable anymore - it also meant you had nothing and no one to fall back on if your career went tits up. and while overworking yourself with projects and internships in preparation wasn't such a loss since it was a subject you were actually passionate about, jimin was right. too much of anything wasn't good for anyone.

"dolled up, huh..." you say, and he perks up immediately at the resolve slipping in your voice.

"yeah. i forgot what you look like with lipstick on," he peers at you hopefully. because occasional bad habits and fickle personality aside, jimin really did care. and him coming all the way here just to make sure you didn't slip back into how you used to be was testament to that. "and not the skin colour ones, i mean like actual colours."

"they're called nudes."

"and not even the good kind," he huffs, shifting closer because he knows you're about to break. "so? what do you say?"

you look up at him one last time before sighing in defeat. "i'm not bringing jisoo," you say, but he still beams happily. "if she catches tae with his tongue down another girl's throat it's gonna be your birthday party all over again, and i don't have the strength for that. and i'm leaving before midnight. i have an early class tomorrow."

"that's fine!" jimin says with a grin that takes up almost his whole face, soft cheeks glowing. he leans in close enough for you to get a whiff of his comforting, intoxicating cologne. "as long as you can make it."

"just a few friends and takeout, right?" you poke his chest warningly. "nothing crazy?"

he nods. "nothing crazy."

x

x

x

"yeah, there's no way in hell i'm going," jisoo says around a mouthful of pasta. you're currently all curled up on your bed like always, even though there's a perfectly good living room, not that you mind. ever since your parents kicked you out, having the girls crowded in your room made you feel cosy. less alone. "i'm either gonna clock taehyung into next week or screw him on the porch. i'd rather avoid both instances."

"do you even remember what he did?" seulgi asks, genuinely curious. "i think i was breaking up a cat fight at the time."

"no, you joined in," you correct, but she ignores you.

jisoo chews her food thoughtfully. "i think it was something to do with another girl? julie? jennifer?" she takes another second to think. "to be honest, no not really. but the point is i remember how he made me feel and that's just as important! if not more! but that doesn't matter," she says, training her eyes back on you. she points her fork. "what we should be worrying about is ____."

"you're right," you sigh, burying your face into your koala plushie. "i haven't shaved my legs in like, centuries. i'm considering telling jimin i'm sick, that's how badly i don't wanna deal with it." you rub your scratchy knee against seulgi to prove a point. "see? i'm like a porcupine! getting even one leg bald by tonight is like, a three person job-"

"not that," jisoo says, waving your leg away when you stretch it to her. "i have wax strips in the bathroom, you're fine. what i'm talking about is jimin. i know i say this before every party, but i'm like, a thousand per cent certain he's gonna make a move on you."

even seulgi laughs at that. "here we go again. what are you gonna bet this time? that skirt you ordered came in the mail by the way."

"i'm calling dibs on her new lipstick," you point to the one on her vanity. "jimin broke my brown one! he put the cap on without rolling it down first. i thought it was an accident but after this morning i think maybe the fucker broke my favourite nude on purpose."

"ugh, typical," seulgi shakes her head in disgust. "men are so dumb. don't tell me it was the limited edition one that i got you?"

"it was!" you wail, covering your eyes at the memory. "i actually cried."

"hello!" jisoo claps her hands between the two of you. "can we focus for a second?"

"deciding which of your stuff to steal next is focusing," seulgi offers.

jisoo narrows her eyes. "stop acting like the pair of you won't take my stuff anyway." she turns back to you, her expression looking far more serious than what the conversation permits. "what are you gonna do when jimin confesses to you tonight, hm? should seulgi let him fuck you in the bathroom or do you wanna be cockblocked until he's sober enough to kiss you with no tongue?"

"how about neither?" you sigh. "babe, when are you gonna give all this up and just believe me? me and jimin are friends."

"i'll believe you when it sounds believable!" she huffs. "come on, coming all the way over here to get you to come to his party because he misses you? asking you to get dolled up for him? this is peak fuckboy crush culture, i don't know why you don't want to accept that!"

"because it's jimin!"

"exactly," jisoo looks at you carefully. "it's jimin...can you honestly say you've never thought about it?"

you don't say anything, because you both know the answer. but in your defence, so did everyone. park jimin was gorgeous and friendly and naturally touchy. he always knew the right thing to say and was charming to a fault without even having to try. everyone and their mother thought about him in a romantic context, even you put your hands up to that. you may have briefly entertained the idea back in the beginnings of your friendship but it was quick to pass. even though he was friends with literally everyone, not many people could say they were close to jimin like you, and that made you so happy. there was nothing else to want.

"well, if you ask me, whether he's in love with her or not is irrelevant," seulgi butts in. "i'm not letting that clown near her tonight or any other night until he buys her a new lipstick."

"wow, you're right," jisoo nods, sinking back into the pillows. "forget what i said. cockblock him until he at least coughs up a gift card."

x

x

x

"just a few friends and takeout, right? nothing crazy?"

"nothing crazy."

"this is crazy," seulgi hisses, hands wringing out your arm defensively when you both pass a couple dry humping on the front porch on the way in. "it's not even that late!" the gush of musky air that hits you both in the face when you walk in is enough to render her speechless after that.

it definitely took some getting used to after a few weeks being cooped up in an art studio or at your desk, but it wasn't something a few drinks couldn't fix. it's only after seulgi wanders off and leaves you to your own devices does taehyung find you in the corridor, with that smile that shows all his teeth, big arms wrapping around your neck so you have no choice but to squish your face into his shoulder.

"____! i thought jimin was lying when he said you'd show up!" he says, manoeuvring you round the corner where the music is a little more muffled. he keeps his hand around you even once he's steadied you, the contact going straight to your head. it didn't help that literally every one of jimin's friends were as beautiful as him. his dark eyes study you carefully, and you know that look. "is jisoo here?"

there it is, you smile to yourself. "not tonight, tae. sorry."

he pouts, fingers tapping patterns on your side. "did you tell her i was sorry? about jennie? it all happened really fast and i..."

"didn't you finger her in the garden?"

"yeah, but she blew me! what else was i supposed to do?"

"tae," you pat his chest soothingly. if it was any other guy you'd be talking in colourful expletives, but taehyung really was a puppy in a boy's body. he had the attention span of a peanut despite meaning well, and you were just a tad too nice to reprimand him for it. at least tonight. "i think you should consider that maybe the jisoo boat has officially sailed. reigning her back in will only do more harm than good, you know?"

"will it though?" he has a twinkle in his eye. which in your experience, is not a good sign.

"that wasn't a challenge, taehyung." you frown.

he winces. you only call him taehyung when you're super serious or super drunk. and since the drink he gave you is still half full it wasn't wise to bank on the latter. you were always sweet, friendly to a fault, but when it came to your girl friends even you had your limits. "okay okay, fine." and before barely a millisecond passes, "so...did you come with seulgi?"

"for the love of god," you mutter, passing him. you definitely needed another drink.

x

x

x

when jimin sees you across the sea of bodies in the living room, he can't hold in his giddiness. you look particularly pretty tonight, with your hair down and a attractive red stained lip colour (of his choice). watching you blossom into such a soft, captivating young woman over the last couple years made him so happy. maybe too happy. jimin had a tendency of breaking things closest to him when he got too invested, and it was a miracle you weren't one of them - yet. he does his best to handle you with care even though you aren't a fragile little thing anymore, his touch radiating that as he snakes an arm around your waist.

"oh!" you squeak, turning back to look up at him with wide eyes as he tugs you into his chest. you're so pretty. "jimin!"

"when did you get here?" he smiles, effectively pulling you away from the group of friends you chatted with. he lowers his mouth to your ear like he's sharing a secret, chest close against yours. you gulp. every little thing he does always feels so intimate, and it was harder to ignore that when you had a bit to drink. "if taehyung hadn't let me know you showed up i might've missed you."

you brace a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, your feet a little wobbly after that last shot. "wouldn't be the first time. do you even know half the people here?"

he shrugs playfully. "am i supposed to?"

you sigh. "jimin, what did i tell you about lending out your house and booze to people who don't know your last name?"

"hmm," he tips his chin up and pouts his mouth thoughtfully so that his cheek dimples, fingers interlocking behind your waist securely. the action is enough to make onlookers dubious of your ‘friendship’, and you don't blame them. but you quickly push the thought aside in favour of jimin's alluring eyes. "something about how its telling of my generous and lovable character?"

you pinch his chin until he squirms into laughter. "try again, hot shot."

x

x

x

"what was that?" seulgi hisses in your ear on one of your many trips to the bathroom. thankfully since its a house party you aren't crowding into a stall together like you would a club, giving her enough space to sit on the rim of the bathtub while you fix your hair. "like is it me, or is jimin extra touchy with you tonight?"

"not you too," you groan, ruffling the roots. "for the last time, jimin is just being jimin. can we please talk about something else?"

"okay, fine," she says, getting up to fix the back of your hair that you can't see. "while prince charming was sweet talking you downstairs, some guy came up to me asking about you. ever heard of jung hoseok?"

you pout thoughtfully. "red hair? kinda loud? i think so..."

she smacks you playfully. "what do you mean you think so? the guy is so pretty i started feeling insecure about myself! and i'm wearing my lucky underwear!" she says, making you laugh. "anyway, apparently he's in one of your political arts classes and hasn't had the chance to talk to you yet."

you wince in the mirror at her. "i don't like where you're going with this..."

"____, babe. just get his number. there's nothing wrong with just talking a little," seulgi says gently. she knows how close you keep your cards to your chest, and with good reason after all you'd been through. you only had a few close friends and sociable as you seemed, letting people in was difficult for you. but if anyone genuinely wanted more happiness for you, it was seulgi. you never dabbled with guys if she didn't give them the all-clear. "he seems like a nice guy, really. and you know i'd never just say that for the sake of it."

"i know," you smile, dipping in to hug her. "i'll think about it."

x

x

x

jimin, being the center of attention that he is - the walking social hub of any given five mile radius - considers himself pretty good at handling the unexpected, especially at house parties. the unexpected being a broken vase, vomit on the carpet, a fist fight in the kitchen. normal stuff. what he isn't prepared for, however, is jungkook rocking up well past one in the morning, already making eyes at some girls even when he's barely got the other foot in the door.

jeon jungkook doesn't usually turn up to these parties, because...well, he never usually turns up to anything. but everyone knew his name, of course, because jungkook's track record was the only one that trumped jimin's - to the point where it bordered on myth, and with good reason. the guy was built like a steakhouse and still had the handsome, innocent face of a boy that meant well even though he rarely ever meant well.

which in all honesty wasn't a problem. jimin loves jungkook like his own, really. he's known him since he was pre-pubescent and acne prone and lord knows he'd fight a losing battle for that boy because that's what brothers do. regardless, when jungkook all but lets his line of vision land somewhere near your pretty smile from across the garden, jimin smacks him upside the head. "no."

"the fuck," jungkook spits, rubbing his undercut. "i didn't do anything!"

"yet," jimin finishes, stony faced. "i'm just stopping you in your tracks so your bad habits can catch up." he entertains jungkook's sceptical expression before huffing. "____ isn't one of your play things. she's a good person and no offence, but she really doesn't need any of your shit in her life."

"she's your friend, not your girlfriend," jungkook clarifies, and jimin can see the way his eyes fight to peel away even with ten feet and thirty bodies between you. 

maybe it's the alcohol but he can't help the way his gaze keeps naturally drawing back to you; it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to set his sights on a girl for the night, but you were so...different from his normal pickings. so...fresh. you didn't try hard and you didn't need to, kept to yourself and remembered every ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ - jungkook liked that. jungkook really liked that. "how is it i've never run into her before?"

jimin isn't stupid enough to use the words off limits because that's just fanning the flames with this kid. he's older than jungkook but he still resorts to puffing out his cheeks and lying through his teeth like a five year old. "she doesn't like you."

"she doesn't know me," jungkook flashes his glittering smile at him, the devil incarnate.

"everyone knows you, kookie," jimin says into his beer, too quiet to be banter but too loud for jungkook to ignore. he cards a hand through his ashy brown hair, doesn't look jungkook in the eye but may as well with how serious his voice goes. "please. just leave her out of it."

jungkook presses his mouth together, dimples pinching at the sides resolutely as he sways his gaze to some giggling redhead instead, because that's what brothers do.

x

x

x

somehow you always end up in this position - the drunk friend having to help the drunker friend. but the drunker friend isn't usually seulgi; in the intoxicated hierarchy on a night out you always fell snugly between jisoo and seulgi, but not this time. this time, you find yourself on the porch with seulgi's head cradled in your lap after she emptied her stomach out on the lawn, frantically tapping on your phone for an uber just as it dies.

"fuck," you grunt, throwing it back into your purse before rummaging through your roommate's. you visibly cringe at how sticky it feels, covered in god knows what and refusing to switch on. "this can't be happening..."

you're forced to prop seulgi up against the side of the house while you hurry inside to search for jimin. it was well passed late but the crowd was still hot and heavy, your short stature making it difficult for you to peer through the sea of bodies. you almost cry in relief when you finally locate taehyung in the kitchen, his hands instinctively grabbing your elbows to pull you out of the crowd and steady you when you teeter over to him.

"tae," you start, almost dipping straight into his chest if he didn't have a hold on you. "have you seen jimin? i need a ride home, seulgi's done for tonight."

"i'm pretty sure he's busy," he says apologetically, gesturing upstairs. "as in, took some girl up to his room an hour ago kind of busy."

"fuck," you sigh, head lolling back. "seulgi's still outside...”

"here," tae says, pulling you into his hip with one hand and reaching for his phone with the other. the contact is nice, warm. comfortable to the point where you find yourself snuggling your head into his shoulder. tae glances down at you against him with a pleased smirk. "easy there, princess. keep your head up while i call you an uber, okay?"

"i can take them," a sudden voice intervenes, your chin lifting up to peer over tae's chest. the boy beside taehyung offers you a small smile, so disarmingly attractive you lose your words. he's got round eyes that glitter even in the dim kitchen lighting, connecting with yours in a way that makes it impossible to look anywhere else. "i'm parked just outside. only had a few beers and even that was like, hours ago."

"are you sure, jungkook?" taehyung asks, still keeping a protective arm around you.

"'course," he turns his attention back to you, your skin prickling inadvertently under his gaze. he's so tall you have to look up at him a little. "and you said your friend's still outside, right? the quicker she gets home the better."

you nod. "thank you..."

"jungkook," he smiles, teeth glittering as he plucks you smoothly from taehyung's hold and into his. you're so focused on the weight of his hand around your back you forget to say bye to tae, letting jungkook guide you through the packed hallway and back outside. maybe it’s the booze but his jawline is amazing even from this angle. "i'm a friend of jimin's."

"yeah, i know," you giggle finally. "everyone knows you, jeon jungkook. you're just...different than i expected."

"different?" he pries softly, the quick lift of his brow making you giggle again. "different how?"

"just," your teeth sink into your bottom lip when you eye him up and down and jungkook swears he's got head rush just from that. you take him in, broad torso stuffed into a leather jacket that's straining at the seams, hair pushed back to reveal his handsome face. even the tattoos poking through the v of his t-shirt makes you splutter back a laugh, so picture-perfectly badboy. "...cute."

jungkook doubles takes. he wasn’t exactly expecting that adjective. "cute?"

"yeah," you say, but you're already turning your attention to seulgi now that you've reached her, slipping an arm around her to haul her up. you wobble a little since you're quite unsteady yourself, jungkook quickly ducking down to help you. "where's your car?"

"over there," he tilts his head in the direction of a jeep, propping seulgi's limp arm around his neck.

"who's this?" she slurs sleepily into your ear, but she's loud enough for everyone to hear. "he smells nice."

"your guardian angel," he answers. "with a truck."

"hm," seulgi considers carefully, even while you and jungkook bundle her up so she's lying across the backseat. she's already got her head nestled into your purse like a pillow by the time you manage to climb into the front. "ya seem nice. ____, give him a suck on my behalf when we get home."

jungkook discreetly grins to himself while you're busy with strapping in your belt. "he's not taking us home like that, babe."

"why not?" she grumbles, eyes barely open. "you waxed your legs!"

"here," jungkook says, his face suddenly close as he leans in to pull your seat belt over you. if you looked up you know you'd be millimetres apart, forcing you to stare dumbly down at your torso while he buckles you in, giving the stap a final tug so it settles comfortably between your breasts. it's such a quick action you barely register how practiced it is, like he's done it a thousand times. a more pressing matter is at hand anyway: seulgi was right. he does smell good. "there, all set."

your mumbled thanks barely carries over the sound of the engine starting, and thankfully you're not trashed enough to forget your address. jungkook rolls the windows down so the night air sobers you up a little anyway, finally free of that musky feeling of being in a room filled with too many people. "ah, i missed this...jimin hasn't taken me on a night drive in ages."

"you and hyung are close, right?" jungkook asks, arm up on the wheel in that way that makes boys look irresistible. "he talks about you a lot."

"oh yeah? funny, he never mentions you." you muse.

"really? not at all?"

"i think he called you chlamydia on a stick once," you ponder. 

jungkook huffs, and you can't help but laugh at his pouty expression. he finds himself drawn to it, almost entranced by it; even with your messy hair and smudged makeup, your smile is so effortlessly beautiful. he can see why jimin hid you away from him for so long. "i don't blame hyung for wanting to keep you to himself, i guess. girls as beautiful as you don't come by often."

you smile to yourself and it doesn't go unnoticed by him. "very smooth. don't forget to ask for my number when you help me out."

jungkook tongues his cheek, exhilarated by the challenge. "you think i'm flirting with you, noona?"

you keep a calm demeanour but even he sees the way you eye the veins in his big hands while he drives. but watching the rough of his palms skirt smoothly over the leather is near hypnotic. "i think you're trying to flirt with me, jungkook."

"maybe," he admits with a shrug. "so would you give it to me?"

"what?"

"your number."

you regard him properly. "do you want me to?"

"yes," is his bold reply, calling your bluff without hesitation. jungkook's sheer confidence makes you falter for a moment, his attitude so relaxed you can't tell whether he was taking any of this seriously or not. he meets your eyes from across the console with a small smirk that renders you speechless yet again. "not that jimin hyung would approve. but you're a big girl who can decide for herself, right?"

you blink, before shaking your head with a laugh just as he pulls into your road. jungkook waits patiently for an answer while he parks up by the curb, relishing in the way you eye him oh so carefully. you're tip toeing that fine line between drunk enough to speak your mind but not drunk enough to forget in the morning, so there really wasn't a better time to put all his eggs in one basket. you wet your lips at him and he's sure he’s hit bullseye, but then you're grabbing his chin and pinching it like you would with jimin. "you're cute, jungkook. now help me get her inside."

he blinks, his brain taking a second to catch up before he has to manually tell himself to move. getting seulgi out the back of the car wasn't easy but he's just glad she didn't throw up on him. you call a quick thanks over your shoulder before dragging her in and kicking the front door shut behind you, jungkook finding himself back at his steering wheel more riveted than before.

"fuck," he swears to himself, pulling out his phone and getting up taehyung's chat. "i need her number."

x

x

x

you barely plug your phone into charge with both eyes open once you've put seulgi to bed, and even then jimin's contact is the first thing to appear on the lockscreen. even though you’re halfway in bed with a makeup wipe in one hand, you force yourself to reply.

[jimin 3:42am] you get home okay? tae said you needed a ride, sorry

[you 3:45am] np ur friendsh jungkook gave usf a lift

[jimin 3:45am] jungkook? like jeon jungkook?

[you 3:49am] well unless you know anyt othrer jungkooks yh

[jimin 3:49am] is he there right now?

[you 3:51am] wht no he just dropped us off

[jimin 3:52am] thats all???

you frown, like that was any of his business. but you're honestly too exhausted to pick a fight.

[you 3:53am] yh thats all u nosy fuck

[you 3:54am] anywyh im dead now so gn

[shazyloren]

Family Affair

Summary:  Daenerys 'Dany' Targaryen has never liked Jon Snow; he was rude, he rode a motorcycle and he never took anything serious in his life. However his siblings adored him so there must be something good about him, right? 48 hours and a mind is changed.

Note: Thanks for the prompt @christinaxlr8

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11967888/chapters/27064608

Dany stared at her roommate Arya with the blankest of expressions. Was she being serious? All fucking weekend? No this cannot be happening to me!, Dany thought angrily. Her heat boiled, her skin crawled and her blood pressure was going through the roof. She knew to Arya she was being outrageous; but she didn't care; she hated him! And he was going to be sleeping on their sofa for the weekend? No, not while Daenerys was living and breathing was that ever going to happen!

"No" She snapped angrily as she poured her cornflakes into a bowl and began to spill milk all over the kitchen counter in rage. Arya's dog Nymeria licked up all the milk that spilled on the floor before jumping up the side of the counter to try and get the rest. "Not gonna happen"

"Dany calm down, he won't even be here often only to sleep and shower, he works remember!" Arya huffed at Dany which she did not appreciate. I'm not being unreasonable, i'm not being unreasonable, she kept telling herself. He's not a nice person, not a nice person. In fact, in Dany's opinion, he was the worst kind of person. He knew he was attractive, he knew the effect he had on all the girls that ever walked past him and he knew exactly the buttons to push to rile Dany up the wrong way.

And she hated him for it, how dare he.

He never tried to be civil with her when she was around; never tried to just ask polite questions. He'd just insult her and then try and get her into his bed. Because that's what he did with all of the woman.

"Might I remind you that the last time your brother stayed here we ended up with a broken sink and a damage ceiling all because he was throwing a ball in the hallway with Robb!" Daenerys tried to cover her own hatred for Jon Snow's womanising and manipulating ways by playing up the aspect where Jon Snow breaks everything he touches. Arya loved her brother's deeply and couldn't see why Dany hated him.

"You know if you actually tried to get to know him you'd realise there is more to him than what you see" Arya spat as she started mopping up the milk Dany spilt. What I see, is a good for nothing layabout who is lazy and childish. "He's not just a ladies man; he only recently became one of them. After Ygritte he's just not wanted to settle down with anyone and that's hardly a crime is it!"

Dany had heard this excuse many times; Ygritte, Jon's ex-girlfriend who died in a car accident last year, had broken him beyond repair according to Arya and Arya's older sister Sansa. But Dany thought that using that excuse was more insulting to the deceased woman than being an explanation for Jon's behaviour. 'Jon's just not himself since Ygritte, he loved her so much, he misses her everyday'.

Well then why does he defame her memory by whoring around with every woman he sees?

And why is he so hellbent of ruining my life whenever he's around?

"My decision is finale, Arya. he's not staying" Dany trotted to the lounge with her bowl of cereal. When she opened the door, she dropped her cereal on the floor.

There sat on the sofa with his brother Robb, was Jon mother fucking Snow.

He had with him a backpack and his motorcycle helmet, his leathers already strewn across the other sofa. His face held a smirk which made Dany's anger rise so high in herself she might have exploded. His black hair was messy and all over the place in it's curls; but he was grinning like a mad dog. All because he'd irritated Daenerys in three seconds flat; possibly a new record.

"Hello Daenerys" He chortled as she began to shake with rage. His face formed into a second smirk and then that was it. It took all of another few seconds for Daenerys to understand the situation. Arya had allowed him to stay without asking her first; she wasn't asking Dany, she had told her he was staying. "ARYA STARK"

Daenerys slammed the door shut and marched back into the kitchen where Arya had gone red in the face and was using the kitchen counter as a shield. Daenerys picked up a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and flung it at her roommate. WHACK. Straight onto Arya's head. "Bloody, buggering, ouch!"

"He could've stayed anywhere but here, anywhere!" Dany shrieked as her fire made blood came pouring out of her in rage. "He could've stayed with Robb!"

"Talisa's just had a baby, remember! They don't have the room!" Arya was trying to fling stuff back at Dany but she knew it was too late. She'd awoken the dragon in her.

"Or Sansa's then!" Dany was exasperated now; she hadn't had an argument like this with Arya in weeks.

"Sansa doesn't even have a house at the moment he's too busy travelling to Paris every other week for her fashion company! And before you say Mum and Dad's house, he's not allowed there because he's a walking reminder of the betrayal of our father to mum; I can't just let him sleep in his car while his apartment is being fixed up!" Arya loved Jon so much it almost made Dany sick. She did not have that close of a relationship with her siblings, in fact they all despised each other.

Rae, the oldest brother and his wife Elia were so rich they offered to pay for Dany to live in a 6 bedroom mansion in LA for the rest of her life and when she turned them down to make her own way in life they just stopped speaking to her. Viz and his girl Doreah were so high on cocaine 24/7 that she didn't bother even speaking to them either so she just never had a family bond like Arya did and she just didn't understand it.

"Why didn't you speak to me like last week even so I had a whole week to fight you on it?" Dany was coming back down to earth no; the aggression had eased up and it was slowly but surely being replaced by calm. She'd need to vent about this on her blog later for sure.

"Because you would've said no!" Arya exclaimed with impatience. She was wearing a smart suit jacket with her grey trousers and white blouse, and thankful to Arya neither of them had mushed banana on them. It didn't stop her from checking to make sure. "Now, I have to go to work, but when I get home, we're getting ready and going out!"

"I'm not going out with your family!" Dany huffed as she started to clean the banana up that she'd thrown at Arya.

"No, just you and I. And possibly Gendry if he finished early; but until then, please don't kill him! Suck it up Dany, it's 48 hours! You can bloody well handle 48 hours!"

She didn't think she could, could she?

[hard-satin]

Time of death (4.08)

Masterlist

“Is three enough?” Kira asked as we set up our computers around the table in Scott’s house. Stiles was standing across from Kira. Liam and I were standing across from Scott. We were prepping our stupidest plan to date.

“It depends on how many cameras they have but I think so.” Stiles told her.

“Are we really doing this?” Liam asked nervously.

“Yeah, this is our worst plan ever and that’s saying something.” I told Scott.

“We’re doing this. Tonight.” Scott told us.

“Isn’t this kinda dangerous?” Liam asked.

“Yeah, it’s incredibly dangerous and borderline idiotic.” Stiles told him.

“Have you guys done something like this before?” Liam asked. I chuckled.

“Something dangerous? Or something idiotic?” Stiles asked.

“I think it’s yes to both.” Kira told Liam.

“You don’t have to be a part of it if you don’t want to.” I told Liam.

“I’m not scared.” Liam told him.

“Well then you’re borderline idiotic.” Stiles told him with a wink, before turning to Scott.

“If we do this we don’t know what’s coming for us. You know that right?” Stiles asked him.

“How do we know something’s definitely coming?” Kira asked.

“The tape said visual confirmation is required.” Scott told her.

“The chemist said the same thing. He said he couldn’t get paid until he knew you guys were dead.” Stiles added.

“So the idea is, what if you kill someone on the deadpool but you can’t get proof?” Scott asked.

“You don’t get paid.” Kira answered.

“How does that get us any closer to the Benefactor?” Liam asked.

“He still needs to know if the target is really dead.” Scott told him.

“Especially if it’s someone high on the list.” Stiles added.

“So if he want’s visual confirmation…” Liam started.

“He’s going to have to come get it himself.” Scott finished.

-

Liam and I are about to head up to Scott’s room where he and Kira and her mother are waiting. Stiles grabs my arm before I can get to the stairs. Liam growls at his aggressive touch. I pull my arm out of Stiles grasp and nod to Liam to head upstairs. He looks apprehensively between Stiles and I before leaving reluctantly.

“Look’s like you’ve found yourself a little guard dog.” Stiles comments obnoxiously.

“We almost died together in that well. So yeah, we’re close now.” I told him crossing my arms.

“As close as you are with Malia?” Stiles asked. I saw where he was going with this and I wasn’t about to make this easy for him.

“I’d say I’m closest with Scott, but Liam and Malia are the people I spend the most time with. Sometimes it helps to be with people who have flaws but are good regardless. It makes me feel better about my own.” I told him.

“What flaws? What about me?” Stiles asked.

“What about you Stiles?” I asked ignoring his first question.

“Aren’t we close?” He asked almost sheepishly.

“I’ve been wondering about that for a while now. I’ll get back to you when I have an answer.” I told him turning and marching up the stairs.

“Wait!” He called after me. I stopped and turned to him with a heavy sigh.

“What?” I asked.

“Is Malia going to stay mad at me forever?” He asked me. I scoffed, of course he came back to that. I turned back around and continued up the stairs.

“You better get to the hospital and start setting up the surveillance.” I told him before disappearing down the hall.

I walked into Scott’s room to find him lying on his bed. Kira and her mom were at his side while Liam paced the floor of his room.

“Are you guys totally sure about this?” Liam asked as I put my hand on his shoulder to stop his pacing.

“I think Liam’s kinda nervous. Maybe you should tell him it’s going to be alright.” Kira told Scott.

“It’s going to be alright.” Scott smiled up at Kira.

“You’ve done this before right?” I asked Kira’s mom.

“I’ve seen it done.” She told me.

“Is that just as good?” Liam asked hopefully.

“No.” She answered. I let out a pained groan.

“Mom, you’re not inspiring confidence.” Kira scolded her mother.

“Good. This is a terrible idea.” She told her daughter.

“Do you want us to do this without you?” Kira asked.

“Put your hand over his heart.” Kira’s mom relented. Kira leaned over Scott and hovered her hand over his chest. Scott grabbed her before she could do anything more.

“Hold on. What happens while I’m out? Am I going to feel anything?” Scott asked looking at Kira’s mom.

“It might feel like you’re dreaming.” She told him.

“Good dreams or bad?” He asked.

“I suppose that depends on you.” She told him. Scott rested back on the bed and Kira put her hand over his heart again. This time he didn’t stop her as she summoned her foxfire and brought his heart to a near stop. I clung to Liam as I watched, eventually I couldn’t take it and I hid my head in his chest. His arms were tight around me and he had soon hid his head in my hair, neither one of us wanting to watch our alpha suffer. It was over sooner than I expected. We all paced into the car to head to the hospital.

-

“I still hate this plan. I mean this is pretty significantly terrifying. He looks dead.” Melissa said as she tried to look everywhere but her son. We were all gathered in the morgue looking at Scott lying on the cold metal slab.

“Give me your hand.” Kira’s mom told her. Melissa hesitated before extending her arm. Kira’s mom placed it on Scott’s chest and held it there until she felt the slow beat of his heart under her palm.

“Is that enough to keep a werewolf alive?” She asked.

“Enough for an alpha.” Kira’s mom assured her.

“How much time do we have?” Melissa asked.

“Forty five minutes.” I filled her in.

“What happens after that?” She asked.

“Then I bring him back the same way.” Kira told her.

“No I mean what happens after forty five minutes?” Melissa asked.

“No one’s told her?” Kira’s mom asked looking to all of us.

“What happens after forty five minutes?” Melissa asked again looking to all of us. All of us unwilling to answer her question.

“He dies.” Kira’s mom tells her not sugarcoating anything.

-

I don’t know how I got sent on assignment with Scott and Chris to make contact with the assassin, but there I was standing in Chris’s weird storage unit thingy. I watched as he typed out Scott McCall was dead and payment was requested. It was all very anticlimactic and I was honestly beginning to wonder why I was sent with the two of them in the first place.

“That’s it? That’s your assassin speak.” Stiles asked as underwhelmed as I was.

“I told him Scott was dead, what more do you want?” Chris asked.

“How about target has been neutralized? You know? The crow flies at midnight. That’s always cool.” Stiles told him. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Chris grunted. The computer beeped letting us know the assassin had responded. I watched as the words visual confirmation is required appeared across the screen. Always over eager Stiles jumped on the computer. Quickly realising his mistake he offered the keyboard back to Chris but he just shook his head.

“Type this, visual confirmation isn’t possible. Police coming to claim body in forty minutes.” Chris instructed as Stiles typed. The Benefactor replied that visual confirmation was required for payment.

“Tell him number one on the list is dead, I killed him. If the wire transfer isn’t completed in forty minutes… I’m coming after you.” Chris was downright scary. I was impressed.

-

Back at the hospital Stiles, Kira, Liam and I stood in an unused room. Chris was on the roof rigging up a device to the security system. He called Stiles and with one keystroke the computers Stiles had set up previously all came to life. On each screen was four security camera feeds that we could monitor.

We sat in front of the screens for hours. Nothing unusual showed. It was getting harder and harder for me to ignore how every couple of minutes Stiles would dial Malia’s number only for his call to get rejected. I was almost relieved when shady shit actually started going down.

“Hey, is that supposed to look like that?” Liam asked pointing to one of the screens that had gone fuzzy. Kira and I were instantly on our feet.

“No, no it's not.” Stiles told him leaning in too. Holding his phone close after another call from Malia had been rejected on the first ring.

“Where is that?” Kira asked.

“The roof. Someone’s going to have to check it out.” Stiles told her.

“I’ll go.” Kira and I volunteered simultaneously.

“Whoa. This might not be just a malfunction.” Stiles pointed out stopping us as we headed for the door.

“That’s why I’m bringing this.” Kira told him showing off her katana.

“And i’m bringing these.” I flashed my claws and fangs before we both turned and left.

“I’m coming with you!” Liam called chasing after us.

“Okay and you’re all coming right back immediately!” Stiles yelled after us.

The three of us marched down the hall to the stair well with kira leading the way. I looked to Liam who was staying unreasonably close to my side.

“You know we have this covered right?” I asked him.

“Always good to have an extra set of eyes, and claws to cover you.” Liam told me as he looked around nervously.

“Thanks.” I told him with a smile. Since that day in the well, we’ve both had a problem with being slightly over protective of the other. But if I was being honest, I wasn’t complaining. It was nice to know that no matter what we had each other's back.

I was so busy talking to Liam that I didn’t realize Kira had gotten all the way to the roof while we were still a flight and a half down. I figured it out when I heard the growling and Kira’s battle cry. Liam and I charged up the stairs arriving fully transformed just in time to watch her get knocked down by a berserker.

Liam and I didn’t hesitate before racing at the thing. Kira was back up as Liam was thrown across the roof into a transformer. I rushed to his side to make sure he was breathing before rejoining Kira in the battle against the Berserker. I went for the leg as she went for it’s upper body.

We were doing well for all of five seconds but then I was kicked away landing on top of Liam. Kira was knocked to the ground. I struggled to my feet bringing Liam up too. We stumbled over to Kira and managed to pull her to her feet too. We turned to face the Berserker again. Liam and I were knocked down as Kira managed to dodge out of it’s reach easier than us.

“Liam run!” We both ordered the younger beta. Though I knew he wouldn’t. I could see his rage building up inside.

“Kira! You go! You need to get to Scott!” I told her standing up to fight again. I watched as Kira looked between us and the Berserker, and then eventually to the roof door.

“Go!” I repeated as Liam rose. Together we squared off against the Berserker as she ran from the roof. Liam launched up to the transformer cage and jumped on top of the thing while I launched myself at it’s legs. We succeeded in knocking it down but it soon from us off of it like we were nothing more than rag dolls. We we stood again it had gone.

I looked to Liam. I knew we could track it’s scent but with just the two of us we wouldn't do it much damage. So we ran from the roof after Kira to check on Scott. When we made it to the bottom floor there was a familiar scent coming from the hallway. It was blood. Liam and I followed it to find Kira’s mom in the arms of Melissa. She was bleeding from a wound in her center.

“Find Kira!” Melissa ordered us. Without protest we both turned on our heel and ran towards the morgue. We burst in to find Scott was alive but I could barely be happy as Kira looked to Liam and in with apprehension.

“What?” She asked looking between us.

“It’s your mother.” Liam told her as I tried to find the strength to tell her.

-

The night ended as Stiles and I drove Liam home. I got out of the jeep to let him get out. I gave him a hug goodbye and watched him all the way to his front door. Making sure he was inside and safe before getting back in the jeep.

“You really care about the kid.” Stiles told me breaking our silence as we drove home.

“He’s part of the pack. That makes him family to me.” I told him keeping my gaze on the road passing by the passenger side mirror.

“Really. I know where close, but you just met the kid. You hated Lydia most of your life, and you barely talked to me for the last month. That’s a pretty shitty family.” Stiles laughed halfheartedly.

“It’s the only one I have.” I reminded him. I heard his heartbeat spike as he recalled that I was alone.

“Besides, he’s like me. I want to give him the support and protection I wish I had when I was learning about being a werewolf with a little something extra.” I confessed.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked.

“His anger issues. They may make it harder for him to control his shifts but they also make him strong. I watched him almost take off a berzerkers head tonight. I have the ability to disobey the will of an alpha, I can transform into a wolf, but it’s also a curse. Just like Liam’s anger.” I told him.

“How?” Stiles asked.

“You know how. You told me, or at least void did. Then you told Scott and I you remembered everything so don’t try and deny it.” I told him.

“True omega’s can’t be loved. They are lone wolves in every way.” Stiles summed up. I nodded.

“That might not even be true.” He told me. I laughed at him.

“Why would he lie?” I asked Stiles.

“He’s a trickster.” Stiles pointed out.

“Yeah and his best tricks were revealing the truths he knew would hurt us the most. Besides that wasn’t the only thing he told me and he was right about that.” I argued. Stiles stayed silent. He knew void had told me that Stiles didn’t share the same feelings for me that I had for him. Maybe he thought talking about it would ruin our friendship. That was certainly my excuse for staying silent. Although the more I thought about it, the more I realised the friendship we had before void was long dead.

The silence remained as we pulled into the driveway and walked into the house and up the stairs. Less than a foot apart but it felt like there was a great distance between us. That is until I stopped in front of Stiles doorway in shock as I noticed Malia standing inside and Stiles ran into my back. I didn’t know what to say, but she was in Stiles room so I looked to him to start talking.

“Hey. Where you been?” He asked her as he stood stationary in his doorway.

“Talking to Peter.” Malia told him.

“Okay. Do you think that’s a good idea?” Stiles asked.

“If he can help me find my mother, I don’t think I care.” Malia told him with a shrug.

“Malia, you might be related to him but you’re not like him.” Stiles told her.

“Maybe I am. That night I caused the car crash.” She began.

“You mean when you were out of control on the full moon?” Stiles asked trying to illustrate that it wasn’t her fault.

“There’s a part that I didn’t tell you about. Right before we got in the car, my mother… My adoptive mother and I, we got into a huge fight. I don’t even remember what it was about but I remember what I said. I said I wish you were all dead.” Malia confessed tears welling in her eyes.

“Killing doesn’t run in a family.” Stiles tried to assure her.

“Maybe it does in mine.” Malia told him before turning to hang up the third part of the deadpool on Stiles murder board and running to me. I pulled her into my arms and walked her to my room. We collapsed on the bed and I just held her. There wasn’t anything I could do or say to make her feel better. So I just held her in my arms and let her cry.