#jesus I have barely actually been online all day and I’ve just noticed. at nearly 10pm. jesus

[daincrediblegg]

Oh yeah hi everybody

[taeescript]

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?). 

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive. 

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something. 

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down. 

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say). 

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?” 

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects. 

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made. 

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.  

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.  

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”  

                                                            - Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.  

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

[rantingwriter]

Body Guard (Levi x Reader)

Day 1

I still don’t fully understand what happened...I was at work at the behavioral hospital, some big dark GMC type car pulls up, and now I’m riding in the backseat getting told I’m actually related to some big shot that’s being threatened and everyone she holds dear is in danger. “Can you please elaborate how someone I’ve never met...holds me dear…?” 

“Your dad was her secret lover when he was working at her company. She has kept tabs on you for years and even sent him money for child support. There, all caught up.” The stoic man with sharp, narrow blue eyes, who also looks really tired, sighs in exasperation. He cards his fingers through his straight black hair and looks at me through the rearview mirror. I am still reeling, I have a mom and dad who are happily married, but now I’ve got a mom who I’ve never met? “Geez, what’s so complicated about this for you?” 

“My current mom is not my mom, my real mom is some bigshot that pissed somebody off that’s more violent than my psychosis patients, and I’m in the back of a fucking car that should only be used for this scenario in movies!” I’m starting to freak out when a voice comes over the radio. 

“Captain, you lack delicacy…” It sounds like a woman, “don’t worry [f/n], you are safe with us.” 

“W-Who are you?” I try to sit forward and look around, a hand pulling me back into my seat. “WhO?!” 

“Please stay seated, that’s just Petra.” Another woman with glasses and her hair up in a ponytail is looming over me. “We’ve got a team ready to protect you and we’ve already taken care of your job since you won’t be able to leave once we get you to our safe house.” 

“Safe house? What about my parents? M-My cats?!” 

“They have been picked up by our second team and taken to a separate location.” The driver sharply turns down a backroad. “We’ll fill you in on everything at the safe house. Just sit still and shut up.” I tried to relax in the backseat, but it was impossible to relax with all this new information careening around in my brain. Before long we roll up to a townhouse and I am led inside. It’s nicer on the inside than it looks on the outside, my stuff is already here too. The driver starts barking orders to the other members of his team, soon enough it was just the two of us standing in the living room. “I sent for dinner, you go wash up.” 

“C-Can I at least get your name?”  

“Levi, I’ll be staying with you in the house. The others will man the outside.” 

“Okay, nice to meet you.” He simply nods and goes to do what I can only assume is his bodyguard duties. I go to get showered up and process my thoughts. It’s way too much to handle all at once. 

Day 3

It’s been a couple of days. I’m still reeling, been crying myself to sleep from fear at night, but overall...I guess I’m okay? “Hey, you look like shit.” 

I jolted at Levi’s sudden comment, “gee thanks…” I wipe at my eyes, they feel puffy and dry. 

He stares at me a long moment, before extending me a cup of coffee. “I know it’s rough the first couple of nights, you’ll adjust.” 

I take the cup and inhale the aroma of coffee, “If you say so…” I take a sip and make a face at how bitter it is. I grab the creamer from the fridge and add some more to the little cup. Levi says nothing, he just watches me as he leans against the counter. I don’t understand why he insists on watching my every move, it’s like he’s studying me or something. I eat some breakfast and go to the living room to play on my laptop. Before I can do anything online, the muscular guy snatches the device. “Hey!” 

“Do not sign into anything, they’ll be able to track you if you do.” He goes through and logs me out of everything I usually use. 

“B-But-”

“No buts, nothing that can be tracked.” He finally hands it back to me and sits in the nearby armchair. I simply sigh and try to enjoy some me time with the stoic statue in the room. 

Day 7

I’m starting to wonder if Levi’s constant staring at me is simply his way of learning about me. He has been making my coffee exactly how I like it without me saying anything. He has been paying attention to what I like to eat. If we weren’t basically living together, I would be super creeped out by his attention to details. It’s honestly really sweet and I think he is growing on me a little. “Hey, [f/n], want to go somewhere?” 

“I thought I couldn’t leave the safe house,” I was putting away my laundry when he came into the room. 

“We can go somewhere so long as it’s visible for the team and not super crowded.” 

“What’s even in this area?” 

“Some restaurants, a park, we might be able to swing a movie theater, and one of those animal cafes.” He doesn’t sound very excited about any of the options. 

“I’d like to go to the movies and m-maybe the café afterwards?” 

He does his signature stare at me, “we’ll see. We’ll start with the movie at least.” I smile and hurry to get my shoes on, we go to the local movie theater and Levi keeps me close to his side the whole time. Once we are seated, he drapes an arm over my shoulders and whispers. “Best to look like we are dating while we are out of the house.” 

“O-Okay…” I’ve never heard of this kind of tactic in all of those movies and games involving bodyguards. Or maybe I just never found those specific ones. He idly moves his fingers along my upper arm. His touch is giving me goosebumps. The movie goes by without a hitch and we are able to visit the animal café. I didn’t realize how much I missed home until a cat curled up in my lap while I tried to eat a slice of cake. I also try to make small talk with the quiet bodyguard, but he has his guard up constantly. It’s hard to get any information about him personally or otherwise. I’m almost finished with my cake when he suddenly pulls me out of my seat and throws the table up as protection. My ears are ringing from the sudden downpour of bullets that destroy the little café. Animals and people alike scatter trying to find safety. Levi yells into his earpiece for his team to engage. I can only tremble in fear as the man shields me. When the gunfire finally stops, he leads me out the back and we are forced to relocate to a new safehouse. 

Day 10

I’m struggling with sleep again, I think Levi is starting to take notice. “Do you need me to start sitting in the room at night?” 

“How would that help?” I’m a little snappy, I don’t mean to be.

“It’s just a suggestion,” he seems unfazed by my words. 

I sigh and sip my coffee, “it’s worth a shot, I’m not sure what else to do at this point.” 

He sets his cup down and grabs my wrist, half dragging me to the couch where he sits down and pulls me down to join him. “Lay down.” 

“I’m not napping, if I can’t sleep how can I-” He cuts my protests off by guiding my head into his lap, I feel my face turn red hot at the realization of my position. 

“Just shut up and try.” I couldn’t see it, but he was hiding his face in his hand. Sure enough his little experiment works and I finally get a little sleep. 

Day 15

Levi’s been staying in my room for nearly a week now and I’m surprised to say it’s helping a lot. His presence lately has brought a great source of comfort and also been generating some...feelings...I don’t know what to do about it. He is my bodyguard, he is just doing a job. “Hey…” I can’t believe I’m about to ask him this. “Have you ever...caught feelings for a client?” 

“No, never.” His stoic stare is unwavering. “Why?” 

“Just curious…” I need to just do what I usually do, bury these feelings deep down inside until it festers and then slowly rots away over the course of a few years...or until he does something that just kills the feelings all together. 

“Do you feel like trying to go out in public again?” 

“Not really, getting shot at once was enough.” I turn to take care of something when next thing I know I’m on the ground with Levi hovering over me. Jesus, this is not helping! 

“Damn it, we are under fire!” Despite the fact he is yelling, my ears are ringing enough I can barely hear him. How did these guys find us again? We haven’t been out of the safe house at all! Levi leads me to a secret exit and he drops his ear piece and has me ditch basically every electronic. We take the car we’ve been using and ditch it in the middle of town before getting set up in a motel. He pays in cash and uses a fake name, I’m pretty sure the receptionist thinks I’m a mistress or something. We get in the room and he starts frisking me. 

“Whoa, what are you doing? What what what are you doing?” I feel my whole body goes warm at his touch. 

“I’m checking for anything that might have been placed on you to track us. I’ve purposefully gone dark in case it’s a mole in the ranks.” He stops frisking me and suddenly starts stripping his clothes off. 

“Whoa! A warning would’ve been nice!” My heart can’t handle all of this. He says nothing as he inspects all of his clothes. 

“Okay, looks like we are safe, I’ll sweep the room for bugs and then go get us some new clothes. Will you be alright alone for a couple of hours?” 

“I-I think so?” I feel anxious at the thought after being shot at again mere hours ago. 

“Lock the door, do not open it until you hear this knock.” He completes a little sequence on the coffee table. “Can you remember that?” 

“Y-Yeah, okay, got it.” He goes around the room to check for any secret cameras or microphones or anything out of the ordinary before running off to resupply everything we left behind. I’m ready for this madness to stop.

Day 20

There is tension, I can feel it! Ever since we were downgraded to this motel and basically forced to stay in the same room day and night it’s been harder and harder to ignore my budding feelings for the bodyguard. He just stares at me half the time, the other half we are sleeping. On top of that there is only one bed and I’m starting to feel bad that I’m the only one using it. He swears he is fine in the chair, but I don’t believe him. “I’m going to take a shower, are you getting hungry?” 

“Yeah, a bit.” I can feel his eyes on me as I go into the tiny bathroom. I shower up and try to relax under the hot water. It’s only after I turn the shower off I realize I didn’t grab clothes to change into. I tightly wrap my towel around me and venture cautiously out into the room. Levi hasn’t moved. 

“I...forgot to grab my clothes…” I try to break the awkward silence, but it only proves to make things more awkward for me. “C-Could you look away for a moment?” He doesn’t move his head, only his eyes as he looks off to the side. I turn so my back is to him as I pull my clothes on to get ready for bed. I’m not used to wearing half the stuff he bought the other day, but at least they fit. I turn and run straight into him, when did he get behind me?! “S-Sorry, do you need something?” 

His face is harder to read than usual, I can’t tell if he is pissed about something or what, but it’s starting to scare me. Before I can try to awkwardly fill the silence void, he simply replies “you.” 

“W-What?!” 

He leans closer to my face, “I need you.” He closes the distance and presses his lips to mine. I instantly melt into the kiss and drop my towel on the floor. He backs me up to the bed and we both fall back onto it. The rest of the night is a hot and steamy blur as we made love. He was surprisingly gentle at first, but that didn’t last once he was sure I was okay. In the morning I’m surprised to find him still in bed with me, his arm draped over my side. 

Day 30

They finally located us and gave us the all clear, they caught the guys and I can return to my life as it was. But...I don’t want to. They are already trying to assign Levi elsewhere and I can’t imagine being apart from him now. I can’t exactly go with him on jobs and I doubt they have local work. Is this really going to be goodbye forever? “[F/n]?” I am startled out of my thoughts by a tall blond man with one arm. 

“Yes?” I have to crane my neck a little to see his face. 

“Your biological mother has extended an invitation for you to go live with her.” 

“Really? I...wow, I’m not sure how to respond to that.” 

“She also requested that the one who kept you safe joins her new permanent security detail.” This catches my attention. “He said he would gladly take it, but he requested that you be there too. He didn’t specify why.” I feel my cheeks turn red as I consider the offer. 

“S-Sure, I’d like to get to know my mom and I’d hate for her to not get such a well trained bodyguard on her team.” I try really hard to cover up my excitement. 

“Alright, that settles the matter, I will make arrangements to have your belongings transported over there. Levi will give you a ride.” I see him pull up behind the blond man as if on cue. I thank the mystery man and rush to see Levi. He gives me an emotionally charged kiss as soon as the door shuts behind me. 

“You didn’t think you could get rid of me did you?” He smirks as he backs up to look me in the eyes. 

“No, I figured you wouldn’t be gone that easily.” He gives me one more kiss before driving off towards my soon to be new home. I honestly can’t believe how much happened in the span of a month.

Day ???

“What’s this scar from?” I point to one on his forearm as we snuggle in my bed. 

“That was from a knife fight I got into as a kid.” He holds the scarred arm up while his other holds me to him. 

“Why were you in a knife fight?” I rest my cheek against his bare chest. 

“I had an uncle that figured I would be better off learning the ways of knife fighting instead of going to actual school. Oddly enough it worked out.” He puts his arm down and tucks some stray hair behind my ear. 

“Would you teach me knife fighting?” 

“Hell no, I’ve got a track record of unscathed clients to upkeep.”

“But I’m not a client anymore.” 

“Still no, I will teach you some self defense if you want to learn to defend yourself.” 

“Deal!” He gives a rare chuckle as he shifts to get more comfortable. “Aren’t you supposed to be on rounds this morning?” 

He shrugs, “I’m sleeping with the boss's daughter, I think I have some immunity.”

“Are you sure about that? Think about what you just said.” He takes a moment then moves to get out of bed. 

“Fair point, I’ll see you after work.” He pulls his pants on then turns to give me one last kiss. Gotta admit, despite the chaos that prompted our meeting, I’m glad it happened.

[fayewoodss]

Hike the Appalachian Trail

(Yes, I know the lyric is "bike" but what the fuck that's like a five to seven month hike through the roughest mountain terrain why the fuck would you bike it Evan Jesus Christ I hate city folk.)

Evan and Connor finish senior year, but it wasn't easy.

Despite his mother's efforts, Evan is unable to afford college right of the bat, and he just doesn't feel ready. So, he decides to take off. He doesn't know how long it will be, but in that time he decides to hike that Appalachian Trail, something he'd always wanted to do.

His dad used to talk about how he and Evan would go backpacking together one day. One Christmas, Evan got all the wilderness supplies he needed, but the backpacking trip never came. He's older now and needs to upgrade a few items, but he still has the entire kit from that Christmas, just hoping for the day his dad would take him backpacking.

He just decides to do it himself.

He doesn't have to worry about people and he recognizes that it will be costly, but it beats going through the whole school formula once again.

At the same time, Connor has the same idea.

His senior year was particularly rough, barely making it through a suicide attempt and then finishing his courses through the alternative school, as well as a few online.

Him and Evan didn't really bond besides explaining the letter mix up and a few times Evan actually hung out with Zoe, and Connor emerged from his cave only to find Evan in his living room.

He's still struggling with mental illness and recovery is a long process, so he's not ready for college and isn't sure quite what he wants to do yet.

So he decides to use the old spiritual trek move and sets his sights on the Appalachian Trail. It would give him something to do, a way to get around and see part of the country, and the separation from home and technology may help him ground himself, learn to like himself.

Evan and Connor embark on their journey a few days apart, each not knowing the other is also on the trail.

Connor is not an experienced hiker/camper, so his first week is just, "Why the fuck did I do this. I'm psychotic. This is disgusting. I have sweat through nearly my entire underwear collection."

Evan is just THRIVING!

He's taking pictures of every new plant he sees, keeping a journal and writing down the day's finds.

He's always been one for trees, but he discovers how fascinating fungi is and starts to pay more attention to it.

One morning, he stumbles across Connor struggling to pack up his tent. The man looks tired and angry, a stream of profanities spewing from his mouth.

Evan recognizes him and seizes up with anxiety.

Why is Connor Murphy in the Appalachian Mountains?

But, he shakes it off and helps Connor with the tent, packaging it as tight and small as if it were fresh from the factory.

After some awkward conversation and reminiscing over a shitty senior year, they decide to travel together.

The continue on at a steady pace. Connor is a little closed off at first, only travelling with Evan because he's a familiar face and knows what he's doing. Evan, fueled with anxiety, barely shuts up, stammering through facts about the local flora and fauna, and trying to engage Connor in some way.

They both eventually warm up and develope a routine, even sharing Connor's tent or a room if they stay at a hostel. (Evan traveled only with a covered hammock.)

Connor watches as Evan documents all the wildlife, taking notes and pictures the whole way. Connor quietly follows, sketching out the same things that fascinated Evan and collecting leaves, flowers, and other plants to press.

They start to learn how each other moves and grooves, taking their routine to something more familiar and intimate.

One night, about three to four months into the hike, they're huddled up in the tent. Fall is starting so the temperature is dropping, especially at their elevation.

Without a second thought, Connor, who was previously wary about touch and would go as far as to put their backpacks between them if they shared the ten, leans into Evan, resting his head on his chest as he reads by lamplight.

Evan doesn't know what to do. Ugh, a bisexual mess.

So he just tells himself that Connor is just huddling up to him for warmth, like penguins do.

Then he remembers penguins mate for life.

Then he's all, "Why am I thinking of penguins in the Cumberland Gap?"

He puts his journal down and looks down at Connor as he reads.

The lantern above them swings lightly back and forth and Evan traces every shadow across Connor's face. He never really studied it before, but he couldn't help but stare at his unique and structured features.

Wide-set eyes, high cheekbones, hooded eyes that always look sleepy, and a prominent nose all making beautiful wave-like shadows.

Evan never noticed how long Connor's lashes were. They bat slowly as he fights off sleep.

He could go in smooth, play Prince Charming and woo Connor through a silent vow, but he's Evan Hansen and that's just not his expertise.

So he stammers out a clunky question.

"Have you ever... Have you ever really liked someone before?"

Connor perks up, knowing exactly what's happening. He dances around the question, avoiding to answer it. He trusts Evan, but now he has to face his own emotions.

This man who he's been travelling with for months who he is resting against without a second thought.

This man with beautiful hazel eyes that somehow manage to be every color.

This man with thick hair that has revealed short, coiled curls as it's grown shaggy.

This man who he's caught glances from and though about before, but always pushed those thoughts aside.

Is asking him a question about love.

Connor shuts his book, leaning further into Evan's chest. He looks up.

"I've liked you before," he says with a quiet confidence.

"Can I kiss you?" Evan asks.

And that concludes all the details I will give about this AU.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Gainer, Part 1

(Sort of a One Shot Story Post 1/3)

“Alright, guys. It’s week three of my gain train and I have gained…” Jeffrey stepped off the scale, opened his eyes, and sighed. “…Point…five pounds. Well. That’s progress! I’m sure…I’m sure my body just needs to get used to this new gaining thing. I’ll update you next week. Subscribe to HEFFrey! Later!” He turned off the camera and groaned. Another week of failure. Any kind of gain would’ve been nice. Muscle gain. Fat gain. Subscriber gain, even. He just didn’t know what he was doing wrong. The first week he’d tried stuffing himself silly. Second week was gainer shakes and reps. Third week was water chugging to try for even water weight. But everything just went straight through him. He had been cursed with this scrawny twink body when all he wanted was to be a big bellied bear. His aunt had said their family was blessed with a godly metabolism but he always felt like it was more than that. He couldn’t gain a pound even when he tried hard. He felt doomed to being a hundred and twelve pounds soaking wet.

The comments were nice though. Since his channel was new, it was mostly supporters, hardly any trolls bothered to lurk around him, though he’d get the odd ‘wtf’ down there or people who wished they could keep weight down and envied him. Mostly though, he had some followers who encouraged him and looked forward to his development. They said he should keep trying and he’ll get there. But it just felt like an impossible dream. This night a couple comments popped up right away. ‘Love the water stuff. Keep it coming.’ ‘U cute already. No need for gains.’ ‘More ass shots.’ ‘Hnnnghgnnnnngnghg’ He chuckled a bit at them. He knew guys would be jerking off to it. In a way, it was what he was going for. It made him feel sexy, though it felt a little gross at times. Essentially, it depended on his mood. But it was a fetish thing, gaining, so he knew what to expect. Another thing he expected were the suggestions. In fact, he’d only tried to water gain because of a suggestion on a previous video. So when he saw a comment of someone trying to peddle some kind of gain quick scheme, he was mildly interested. ‘I have trick for you. It is good. Get big fast. Just a drink. Message me contact info.’ He rolled his eyes. Guys were always trying to hook up with him like this, and it was a little annoying. ‘Get big fast’ wasn’t going to be enough to get his digits. He never met with people from online. Call him traditional, but he was a face to face kind of guy. He wasn’t even on Grindr. There weren’t any other comments worth scrolling through, so he plugged in his phone and decided to retire for the night. He went to bed emotionally deflated and hoped he could find something new to try tomorrow.

“You’re HEFFrey.” He was at his favourite bar the next night. He was never a big fan of beer, but his gainer mindset convinced him if he drank it enough, maybe one day he’d have a trucker worthy beer gut. He was two coronas deep when he heard the name called out. The music in the bar was loud though and his lightweight ass was a little buzzed already so at first he thought he was just hearing things. But then again in the strong accent he couldn’t place, his tag was called again. “You are HEFFrey. Gain boy of the web.” A tall stranger had sat down next to him. The guy had very pale skin, jet black hair, and these wide blazing sun coloured eyes that stared so deeply. He didn’t move as he spoke directly at Jeffrey. “It is you, yes?” he asked again. “Uh…” Jeffrey started sweating all over. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, was all he could think. His biggest fear was someone recognising him from his channel. That’s why he tried not to film his face in the videos. So how did this guy know? “Must be you. You have the mother’s marking,” the stranger said pointing to a spot on the back of Jeffrey’s palm. “My birth mark…” Jeffrey whispered, pulling his hand away and cradling it. “So… You got me… Please though, it’s private. Don’t tell anyone.” The stranger shook his head. “No. But I left you a comment. Did you read?” “Uh, thanks bro, but I get a lot of comments…” “I help you. I know fast gain. Big gain.” Jeffrey blinked. So this guy… Was this the guy who asked for his contact info? He always imagined his subscribers lived halfway across the globe. What was the coincidence they’d be meeting in the same city in the same bar the very next day? “I have gain product,” the guy said. After he finished speaking, he actually moved now and fished a bottle out of a satchel Jeffrey hadn’t noticed earlier. The bottle looked just like the one of Mass Gainer he had at home, but this one was in some unrecognisable language. Jeffrey blinked at it and scoffed. “I’ve tried that kinda stuff…” “No. You have not. This is not like your lame human powders. This is from my homeland. It is guaranteed gain.” “Listen, dude. Nothing works on me,” Jeffrey said. “This stuff sounds great, but I’m almost ready to give up.” “No!” The guy shook his head quickly. “You are my favourite to watch. I promise you, this works.” Jeffrey huffed and drank a bit more of his beer. “What do I gotta do? I can’t read that shit…” The man beamed excitedly. “It dissolves in any drink. Milk. Water. Beer. Smoothie. Up to you—” Jeffrey snatched the bottle, uncapped it, and poured half a cup of it into his beer. He lazily swirled it around with a finger before chugging it down. The alcohol went straight to his head and he felt a little tipsy. “Ah… Oop…too fast.” The stranger watched him in awe, a pleased smile on his face. “How do you feel?” “Like this ain’t gonna work…” Jeffrey leaned forward and grabbed the handsome strangers shirt. “But I did it for you cause you’re hot, so how ‘bout you take me home?” The stranger all but sparkled. “I’d love to.”

The next morning, Jeffrey woke up with a wicked hangover and an ache in his anus he felt like he would feel for days. He didn’t remember much from the night before. He remembered little clips: a car ride, the sound of his keys, shirts flying off, the overall feeling of being hot and horny. But now, he felt sick and gross, with a side of regret. But he knew the ache of a good fuck and it had been a while. Too bad he couldn’t even remember the other guy’s name and he was nowhere to be found… After throwing up in the bathroom, he pulled himself to his feet and went to wash his face. The water was so cool and refreshing it helped him think straight and his vision cleared up as well. A second later, he was staring at himself in the mirror. “…No… No way…” He backed up slowly, staring down at his midsection. He couldn’t believe it. His usually concave stomach was actually slightly bloated. For anyone else, this would be a side effect of all the beer and snacks he had the day before, but for him, it was like he’d become as fat as Santa Claus. He couldn’t believe it. Looking down, he pressed a finger into his stomach to make sure it was real. When his skin resisted, he felt almost faint with delight. It worked! That guy’s stuff, whatever it was, actually worked! And overnight too! He tried to reconnect his mind to his feet so he could go stand on his scale. He closed his eyes and counted to three, then looked down. “…Two…Two pounds? Two pounds!” Jeffrey started panting. “Oh my god… Oh my fucking god… I need to… I need to vlog this!” He nearly tripped over himself trying to get to his camera. He was so excited to share his new growth. “Hey, guys! So...Oh my god, this is a pretty, uh, impromptu video. I said I'd be back next week, but, uh... Well, just look!” He paraded his new body in front of his camera very pleased with himself. “So, this growth is kind of a mystery... I met this pretty hot guy who had, like, a gainer shake powder or whatever. Some cool foreign stuff. Threw it in my beer and here we are. I’m so excited. To that guy, thanks bud! I didn’t get your name but like… You know. Hit me up.” He rubbed his stomach happily and patted it. “Okay, so that’s all for now. I can’t wait to see where we are next week.”

This slight new shape gave Jeffrey so much confidence. He celebrated every night and woke up each morning ridiculously hungover. He managed to sober up for his work shifts but he didn’t have too many shifts so he didn’t worry about it. Besides, his cousin, though barely around, paid for everything in their apartment so work wasn’t important to him. He’d started dedicating all his own income to this gain thing. He always went to the same bar each night but he didn’t see the powder guy anywhere again. He shrugged it off though. You could only get lucky so often, right? Flipping on the camera a week later, he nearly danced in excitement. “Alright, first reading of the day,” he said. “My appetite’s been up and as you guys can see, there’s definitely new growth. I feel like I should have, like, a name for when we do a scale reading… Scale…scale… Uhhhh… Measurement mode? Hah, I don’t know… I’ll work on it…” He stepped on the scale and beamed. “Another two pounds! Guys, I’m… Just wow. I’m 116 lbs now. I never thought I’d get here… Let’s do a belly measurement!” He pulled out his measuring tape and pulled it around his middle. “29 inches! God, I mean, compared to what’s out there, that’s pretty lame, but for me, this is so dope. I was 25 inches two weeks ago. Jesus. I hope this keeps up. I’m fucking…I’m shook or whatever.” He turned and gave them one last extended front and profile view before signing off and turning off the camera. He wasn't much of an editor so he just re-watched it to make sure he liked the video and threw it up online. Within minutes he was getting quite the comments. Many were just as excited as he was and he loved it. One guy mentioned his arm was still bigger than Jeffrey but Jeffrey didn’t mind. He knew he was gonna get big. He just had the best feeling about it.

Part 2 Part 3

[elareine]

In the shallows

Chapter: 2/6 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings for this chapter: Some swearing, mentions of racism (no slurs), guns and addiction Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, NO CAPES, Identity Porn, Romantic Comedy, Drama & Romance, Texting, Online Dating AO3: /18803473

Chapter One

Why is LA traffic so terrible.

R_n_R: You get used to it.

It’s like there’s a thousand damned souls on the freeway each morning and we just haven’t noticed we died yet.

R_n_R: Jesus, did you skip your coffee or something?

…Maybe.

Big day today. Wish me luck!

Two weeks into the pre-filming stage, Jason and Dick finally got together to work on the music.

“So. This is when they first become a couple, right?”

Dick frowned. “I don’t know if that’s accurate. They don’t kiss until after that scene, and they don’t talk about it until much, much later.”

Jason honest to God was rolling his eyes at him. “You honestly think they need to kiss to be together? They’ve both made the decision to do this, right?”

Dick barely managed not to yell at him. “I don’t think it was that conscious for Vano, but continue.”

“Thank you.” The sarcasm was grinding. “So I got the bridge and all that, but we need to figure out the chorus part. It’ll be you alone at first and then together. Like this…”

Jason started playing.

Listening to him, Dick felt all his annoyance fade. Say whatever you wanted about Jason - the man knew how to write songs. Hearing him sing live was different from streaming him on Spotify, too. It felt a bit surreal to be in a room with this… this genius.

“For arrangements, I was thinking just the acoustic guitar at first, then later the piano and more strings. Drums for the finale.”

“Yeah, it’s good.” That was admittedly a bit of an understatement.

Jason didn’t look fazed by Dick’s apparent lack of enthusiasm. “Here are the lyrics. Let’s try it together, yeah?”

After a deep breath on Dick’s side, they did. It was fine until they came to the chorus Jason had talked about. It had sounded great when Jason had done it alone, but with Dick…

There were a lot of long notes and Christina-Aguilera-style ’ah-ah-ah’s. It was just a lot. Dick barely got through it.

Jason didn’t look impressed, either. “Okay, again. Just the second part. This time, remember to breathe and get loud. Put some power into it.”

Dick glared. Way to be encouraging, asshat. “Okay, bring it.”

Infuriatingly, Jason just grinned as he started playing again. At least Dick was annoyed enough to forget about worrying. It probably improved his performance.

Still, he felt kind of stupid, singing his heart out as if he was at carpool karaoke.

“Better. Again. Stop feeling self-conscious.”

“Oh, thank you, that helps.”

“You’re an actor, right?” Jason barked. “So act. This isn’t your song, it’s Vano’s.”

Right. Vano, who loved Mateo and wanted to share this moment with him. Who found a voice in this scene.

“I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in // I’ll never meet the ground // Crash through the surface // Where they can’t hurt us // We’re far from the shallow now…”

Dick’s heart beat faster when they finally came to a finish. Yeah, okay. That had been much better.

Jason looked approving, too. Despite every bad thought Dick had about him, that did feel good. “Fucking great.”

Before Dick could, you know, bask in the compliment or anything, he added: “Though you were off-key. This is G major, not minor. Again.”

It was going to be a long day.

Do you sing, too? Or just play the guitar?

R_n_R: Hey, there’s no ‘just’ about it! Guitar is difficult!

R_n_R: I sing too, though, yeah. Why?

I don’t know how people do it.

R_n_R: Talent and work. The usual combination.

No, I don’t mean that.

Don’t you feel exposed?

R_n_R: Pretty sure there is an exhibitionist joke in here somewhere

R_n_R: No, but seriously, aren’t you an actor? What’s different about singing? Just that it’s less your thing?

That too. I’m vain, in case you didn’t notice. I’m not me on stage or in front of the camera though, am I?

R_n_R: Interesting. I never looked at acting that way.

R_n_R: With singing it’s… I mean, I’m a songwriter because I think there has to be truth in the music. Even if it’s just a fun song about sex.

R_n_R: People notice when you’re just putting it on. Might be enough for a hit or two with the right manager, but you’re not going to last.

R_n_R: Look at Adele. Are her songs revolutionary? No. Are they continually evolving masterpieces of songwriting? No. But it’s not just her voice. She’s got that magic. You believe every emotion she sings about. It’s never too much.  

R_n_R: Not saying there isn’t a skill to it. Obviously there is.

That’s what I’m worried about. Lessons can only teach you so much.

R_n_R: This for a recording?

Yeah. Sorry, can’t tell more.

R_n_R: It’s all good, I know how it is.

R_n_R: Who cares if you get it right the first time then? You’re not playing live. Auto-tune and techs will fix what you can’t.  If the songs are good (I’m assuming you didn’t write them) and you’re decent technically, just focus on being honest. Or honest in your role.

R_n_R: I have no idea how that part works, obviously.

Haha, thanks. That’s actually reassuring, tbh.

And no, I don’t write the songs. Wouldn’t even know where to start. How do you do it?

R_n_R: Depends. Sometimes it’s a motif (melody snippet) I can’t get out of my head, sometimes a feeling or a song lyric. Then I just sit down and try it out until I got a solid idea, and then write it down. And then it changes again when I’m playing it with other musicians. How do you approach a performance?

I usually get a script, right? So it’s not making it up in my head so much as trying to understand what the writers and the director envision and then turn that into a fully formed character with mannerisms and a distinct voice and all that. I used to fill out reference sheets with character building questions, but these days, it comes naturally.

But honestly, movies are broken down into small scenes that you repeat over and over and over again, so it’s more important to stay in that moment. You need to be able to fix it on a character timeline, sure, but ideally, you stay in the feeling and give the director something slightly different each time to work with.

Why, got a big acting job lined up?

R_n_R: Luckily, it’s not much of a requirement in music videos, but I’ll take any help I can get ;)

R_n_R: But seriously, enough shop talk. Wanna watch another episode?  

Even as filming started in earnest, relations between Jason and Dick didn’t exactly improve. They didn’t argue all the time, but Dick was always relieved when someone else joined them for lunch. One Tuesday, it was one of the main sound technicians. Dick barely knew him, but Jason seemed to, as they immediately started a good-natured argument over West Coast vs East Coast venues.

Honestly, it was pretty funny. Despite himself, Dick laughed when Jason described New York clubs as “full of wannabe writers and singers”, but still better than “the wannabe-celebrities in LA”.

Kyle looked at him. “You’re both from New York, right?”

Jason snorted. “You say that as if it means we should know each other, Kyle. Are you still on about that East Coast Elite conspiracy shit? ‘Cause let me tell you, we ain’t it.”

Always escalating the situation, that man.

“I was born there, yeah,” Dick acknowledged to diffuse the situation, “but my parents were circus folk, so…”

Kyle looked taken aback. Dick was used to that, so he just added: “We never stayed anywhere long. I consider our circus my home town.”

“Huh. Well, I’m from a small town in South Carolina.

“I’ve seen your so-called ‘town’, Kyle.” Jason actually made the air quotes with his fingers. “It’s about as Guns, Jesus and Country Music as you can get.”

“And yet you played our local theater.”

“Dude, in the beginning I would’ve played a McDonald if they’d paid us in veggie burgers.”

Kyle slapped his back, laughing. “That’s my Jason.”

Jason flinched visibly. Then he tried to laugh it off immediately, but Kyle looked at him with concern. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just took a tumble a couple of days ago. Just a pulled muscle.” He grinned. “Don’t go thinking your weak-ass slap did that, dude.”

Despite himself, Dick cringed. He’d been injured for most of the filming of ‘Step Up 6 - Heatin’ Up The South’ and it had been a pretty shitty experience. ‘A star is born’ wasn’t nearly as physical, but thinking of all the lifting Jason had had to do over and over again this morning, he offered: “Would you like some painkillers? Pretty sure I got some in my trailer.”

“No.” Jason’s answer was more brusque than the offer demanded. Even Jason himself seemed to realise that because he added: “Thank you. I took something earlier, don’t want to mix.”

Yeah, when exactly? They’d been stuck together for the entire day. Dick would’ve noticed. Still, he mentally shrugged it off. If Jason wanted to be in pain, he could be, for all Dick cared. 

 Tell me about yourself.

 R_n_R: Uh.

 Not, like, identifying information. What do you like, besides music and movies with plenty of explosions?

 R_n_R: This isn’t going to be much of a surprise, but travelling. It’s one of the best things about being on tour.

 Do you have time to really see a place?

 R_n_R: I try to take it these days if scheduling allows.

 R_n_R:  My band’s, I mean. It loses us some money, but I think we all benefit if it’s not just one anonymous stadium after the other.

 God, yes, I hate that about press tours. At least with filming on location, you get to see the area. What’s your favorite place to visit?

 R_n_R: Yeah, with promotions I never know where I am, either. Favorite place…

 R_n_R: Man, that’s difficult.

 R_n_R: What’s yours?

 Just so you know, I can tell you’re stalling. Tokyo blows me away every single time. I got to see a lot of Japan, actually, and it was so beautiful.

 R_n_R: I went on this Japanese game show once, it was fun. Just doing physical games against a boyband that’s super famous there. Not much talking needed, which was good because I always feel terrible I don’t speak more than a few phrases of the language.

 Well, you’re just traveling through, right? At least you tried.

 C’mon, answer my question.

 R_n_R: I kind of fell in love with Berlin.

 R_n_R: Not the prettiest city by any means, but there’s just so much on offer and no one looks at you twice no matter what you do or look like.

 Sounds like New York.

 R_n_R: Kind of, yeah. They have a similar vibe, but obviously, Berlin is more European. Also amazing bookshops. I stumbled upon one that’s sci-fi and fantasy only.

 Wouldn’t the books be in German?

 R_n_R: Nah, there were plenty of English ones (and other languages). It’s a very international city. The seller told me many people like to read books in their original language, if possible, and most of them speak English in some capacity.

 So you like reading then?

 R_n_R: Yeah.

 R_n_R: Confession: I spent most of the day just there. There was a market hall with food stands right next to it and two more bookshops, one specialising in mysteries, and yeah. I got stuck.

 Sounds amazing.

 Though I gotta admit, I prefer audiobooks these days. Just more convenient to listen to while I’m doing something else.

 R_n_R: See, I can’t do that, I need to sink into it.

 I’m just bad at sitting still.

 R_n_R: Not judging! I think it’s cool there are so many ways to get to experience a story these days.

 R_n_R: Listened to anything good lately?

Dick tried to be a giving actor, really. Until today, Jason had been a receptive partner. Today, though, he was going through the motions woodenly, not picking up on any cues, really. It negatively influenced Dick’s own acting, and Dick could feel himself tensing up, knew he was slipping from the character.

Two hours and countless takes into the scene and Dick snapped.

“What the fuck are you doing,” he asked even before Kate called ‘cut’.

Jason glared at him. “My job.”

“No, you’re fucking not!”

“Both of you, shut up.” Kate wasn’t happy. “We’ll take twenty. Get over whatever crawled up your asses and come back ready to work.”

Jason nodded and wordlessly stalked off. Dick forced a smile on to his face: “Sorry, Kate.”

She rolled her eyes and waved him off.

Whatever, this wasn’t his fault, Dick thought as he walked over to his trailer. Jason was just impossible today. Fuming, he took out his phone, ready to complain to Rock_n_Rumble, when he saw that there was a text waiting for him.

 R_n_R: Not feeling so great today.  

Immediately, Dick shoved Jason the back of his mind. That asshole wasn’t that important.

 :( What’s happening?

 R_n_R: Just ran into an asshole racist this morning.

 ?? Are you okay??? What happened??

 R_n_R: Said he was a fan, but, you know, clearly didn’t get the memo that I’m not available for his white supremacy bullshit.

Dick knew that feeling all too well. His blue eyes made it easy for people to forget he was Romani. These days he tried to talk about it as often as he could in interviews and stuff, but… people saw what they wanted to see.

R_n_R: Nothing unusual - you know how it is right now - but he was carrying a gun and I wasn’t. Didn’t pull it, but.

That sounds terrifying R

R_n_R: Kinda was. I dunno, I’m just still feeling slightly off-kilter right now and I can’t concentrate at work.

That’s understandable. Can you take a break?

R_n_R: Am on one right now.  

Me too. Won’t be long tho - anything I can do?  

R_n_R: Tell me not to do what I used to.

Dick’s mind started racing with the possibilities, but all he typed was: Whatever it is, don’t. Those assholes aren’t worth it.

R_n_R: Thank you.

R_n_R: Okay, time to pull myself together. No use taking it out on the wrong people. I can go punch something later.

Look, there’s literally no way you’re being as much of an asshole as my co-worker today, so.

R_n_R: Pretty sure there’s every way, but I’ll do better now.

As if on cue, there was a knock on Dick’s door. “Mr Grayson? Filming will resume in five.”

“Thank you, I’ll be right there!”

Gotta go. Take care, ok? <3

R_n_R: You too. Punch your co-worker for me.

When he returned to set, Dick wasn’t in any mind to deal with Jason’s shit, but the other man seemed to have pulled himself together. He didn’t talk at all beyond the necessary between takes, which usually would have annoyed Dick to no end but honestly worked out better than what happened before.

Turned out they didn’t need many takes after that.

Maybe it had just been Jason being scared of being vulnerable? Dick knew some of these tough guy types were.

Still. He would have expected the guy to be enough of a professional to not let it bleed into their work and fuck it up for everyone else.

When he fell onto his couch that evening with a sigh of relief, Dick’s phone chimed with a new message.

R_n_R: Sorry to have put that on you.

R_n_R: I did mention I was an addict before, right?

In passing.

Dick was about to add more, to tell him it was okay, that they didn’t need to talk about it today, but R_n_R kept texting as if he hadn’t seen Dick’s ‘typing’ status.

R_n_R: I don’t know what it’s like for actors but honestly, once you’re on tour and even halfway famous, drugs are fucking everywhere. It’s not an excuse - I grew up with that shit, I know better. Got put on some opiates for an injury and never got off.

R_n_R: So I needed pills to push me up.

R_n_R: And alcohol for my nerves, which weren’t doing so great with all the other stuff I was taking. Weird, right?

Dick’s hands were shaking. Now more than ever, he wished he could at least hear R_n_R’s voice on the phone to soothe him; or better yet, be face to face with him. Hold him through what was clearly a painful thing to tell.

R, it’s fine. You don’t need to tell me.

R_n_R: No, you should know what it means. You know, if we ever meet. I’m always going to be an addict, just hopefully a clean one.

R_n_R: My mom died of an overdose. I’m not going to be her.

Promise?

R_n_R: I promise.

R_n_R: And you never need to worry about setting me off, okay? Like. Even if you decide I’m an asshole and not worth it tomorrow, my stuff isn’t on you.

Dick hadn’t even realised he had tears in his eyes until one dropped down on the screen. Still, he was smiling, too.

Thank you. For that promise and for telling me.

I don’t think you’re an asshole at all. Kind of the opposite tbh.

[whimsical-ness]

Oh, Baby! | 10 (Final)

◇ Link to Masterlist

◇ Sehun series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

◇ Genre: ‘Life As We Know It’ AU, Fluff (involving babies!), Slight Angst

◇ Summary: You and Sehun have always maintained your mutual dislike for one another. But what happens when an unexpected incident leaves the two of you in charge of a baby, together?

◇ Word Count: 4.2k

He wasn’t picking up his phone.

Why wasn’t he picking up his phone?

It was nearly 12 a.m. You had put Yuna to bed, but you couldn’t sleep. Not until you saw him and made things right.

You paced around the living around, biting your nails and trying not to freak out. Where was he? Surely he hadn’t left already? No, he’d mentioned he was leaving the next day. You were overthinking. 

You swore softly. Stupid. Stupid, stupid stupid. Stupid for letting him go, again and again and again.

When were you going to learn that it was impossible for you to hate Oh Sehun?

You shut your eyes and collapsed onto the couch, dropping your face into your palms. You had to talk to him. You had to tell him that you wanted him back. You had to tell him that even after it all...you still loved him too.

But the idiot wasn’t picking up his phone.

The thought that he was hurt and angry sparked an uncomfortable prick in your chest. He was ignoring your calls because he didn’t want to talk to you.

You gnawed at your lip furiously, wondering what on earth to do. You didn’t even know where Sehun was staying. All you knew was that you couldn’t let him leave without fixing everything.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there for, but at some point, your eyes fluttered shut, and you curled up right there on the couch, sleep letting you escape from your turbulent thoughts.

You didn’t stir for hours.

And when you finally did, daylight was pouring into the room. You felt heavy with sleep, your brain a fuzzy mess. You back was extremely sore, your arm numb from you having slept on it all night. 

Also, you missed Sehun so much that just the image of his face behind your closed eyes was enough to make you feel like crying.

You made a muffled groan before reaching your fingers out for your phone, your eyes still squeezed shut. But you obviously over-stretched, because the next thing you knew, you were falling onto the ground with a thud. You screeched in pain as your elbow hit the corner of the center table, sharp spasms shooting up the nerve endings in your arm. 

It really wasn’t a surprise then, when you burst into frustrated tears, clutching your throbbing elbow and sniffling loudly. Everything hurt. Your heart the most of all.

You only stopped crying when you heard a soft whine from the nursery. You stood up shakily, brushing the tears from your face. Yuna was trying to stand in her crib, her newly growing hair all fluffy, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

You picked her up and held her close, letting out a breath. “What should I do, Yuna?” you murmured. “How do I get him back?”

She only blinked at you innocently, her wide eyes so clear of any concerns or worries that you almost envied them. You could almost imagine how yours looked, red and swollen and tired. 

Yuna seemingly noticed your unease, and she nuzzled into your chest, as if to offer some sort of comfort. It oddly made you want to cry again instead.

You fed her and gave her a bath, all the while feeling a sense of heaviness in your heart. The house was much too quiet. Hanna was off visiting family and so she wasn’t going to be coming in either. 

You felt as if you were actually going to lose your mind.

And then, something crazy happened. An idea clicked into place.

You grabbed your phone with shaky hands, your fingers tapping furiously at the screen as you pulled up the flight schedules online. 

11 a.m. His flight to Busan was going to leave at 11 a.m. Your phone told you that it was currently just past 10 a.m. 

If you didn’t do anything...Sehun was going to leave in a hour. And this time it was going to be difficult to get him to come back.

You leapt up from the couch, your mind whirling as you grabbed your car keys and your wallet. You picked up Yuna in a rush, and pulled open the door of the apartment, barely thinking straight as you pressed the buttons on the elevator.

You had to stop him. 

You fastened Yuna into her car seat, and she giggled, seemingly excited at the prospect of going on a long drive. “Keep your fingers crossed baby girl,” you breathed, biting your lip as you slammed your foot down on the accelerator with more force than you ever had in your life.

You sped down the streets and onto the highway, your mind blank of every thought but Sehun. You had never attempted something this impulsive, and your heart was beating wildly, thumping through your chest as you put a hand there as if to steady it. 

You were pretty sure you had incurred a fine for speeding somewhere along the way, but you managed to reach the airport in record time. 10:35 a.m. If you rushed, you could still make it. 

You frantically pushed your way to the check-in counter, with a bewildered Yuna in your arms. “I need 2 tickets for the 11 a.m flight to Busan,” you gasped, fiddling with your wallet with one hand and trying to get your credit card out. “Please.”

The lady blinked. “It departs in 20 minutes.”

“I know,” you blurted. “Which is why I need the tickets. Right now.”

You were ready to kill the woman. You half wanted to grab her laptop and book the tickets yourself. And when you saw how much you had to spend on the tickets, you were ready to kill Sehun. 

Why wasn’t he answering the goddamn phone?

You all but ran through the airport, your heart dropping when Yuna began to cry, her tears heavy and seemingly relentless. “Shh, baby, please,” you said desperately, nearly tripping over your feet in an effort to get to the boarding gate. “We’re going to go find Sehun—Dada, okay?” She sniffled at his mention of his name.

Please please please. The words were repeating in your head like a mantra. Please let it not be too late.

Your breath was coming in gasps by the time you got there, your hair out of its messy bun, your face red from running, holding a crying baby in your arms. The staff at the counter looked visibly concerned as they saw you.

You felt your heart crumble into dust at the look on their faces. Because you knew what they were going to say before they did.

“I’m sorry ma’am...the gate is closed. The flight is ready for takeoff.”

It was too late. Sehun was gone.

You were trying your very hardest to hold it together as you dejectedly shoved your key into the apartment door. What a complete and utter failure that had been. You felt like a fool.

You took a ragged breath as Yuna toddled down the hallway into her nursery. How you wished you could be as unaffected as she was. It seemed so easy for her. You, well...you felt drained. Guilty, angry, heart broken. 

You pushed your hair off your face, biting your lip furiously to keep yourself from crying. You dragged your feet towards the living room, your heart impossibly heavy.

It would be okay. You had to believe that it would be okay. Sehun could still be a part of your life, couldn’t he? He was a part of Yuna’s life. Maybe that was just going to have to be enough for you. You had to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to be yours, not anymore. 

You’d been the reason for that, by pushing him away.

It wasn’t until a cough rang through the silence that you realized someone was in the house.

You screamed.

“Jesus christ. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your heart very nearly stopped beating right then and there.

It was Sehun. 

You gaped at him. “Y-you—”

“Look, I had my keys, and I thought you’d be home, so I let myself in,” he said a little awkwardly. You felt like you were dreaming. A million things were running through your mind, a million questions, a million answers. But the first thing you blurted out was “Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?”

Sehun dropped his gaze sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure what I would say to you over the phone,” he said. “Which is why I came.”

Your heart started to flutter. “Sehun, I wanted to—”

“Wait,” he cut. “Me first.” 

You held a breath.

“I’ve thought about us. About everything. And I finally figured out why Junmyeon and Jisoo picked us” he said softly. “It’s because they wanted Yuna to grow up with a family, a family like they were. And you and me and her together...we’re one. We’re a family.”

You felt a lump form in your throat.

“And when I’m away...I don’t just miss her, or miss you. I miss us. I miss our family,” he said finally, swallowing. “And I don’t care that we’ve got it all backwards, or that we had a baby before we were even in love or before we were married, because all I know is that I fell in love with you. I fell in love with our family.”

“Sehun.” He took a shaky breath as you spoke. 

“I-I was at the airport.”

Your heart leaped as his eyes dawned in realization. 

“I was at the airport because I wanted to tell you to stay. That I’m sorry, that I missed you,” you said, cupping his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing against his skin.

Sehun shut his eyes. 

“And that I still love you too. So much,” you whispered.

And then he was crushing you against him, with such urgency that it took your breath away. You blinked back tears as you wrapped your arms around him, breathing in the scent of his familiar cologne. “We’re so stupid,” he mumbled into your hair, squeezing you even tighter. “So so stupid. I’m never letting you go again.”

Somehow, this time, you knew he meant it. And you weren’t going to let him go either. You clutched him even tighter, and he lifted you off the ground, making you laugh in surprise.

Yuna's giggling made you pull away, her small face peeking out from behind the doorway.

Sehun smiled as he whisked her into his arms and she brightened considerably. “Dada!”

You bit your lip as Sehun’s face went slack in surprise, his eyes darting to yours. “Wh-what did she just say?”

“Mama!” said Yuna this time, reaching her arms out to you. You took her from Sehun with a small smile as his lips parted in amazement. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it...it feels right.”

You gave Yuna a soft kiss on her cheek. Something about it did feel right. It felt a little wild, it felt a little crazy. But Sehun was right. It felt right.

It felt like the first sign that everything was finally going to be okay.

Sehun captured your lips in a chaste kiss, his fingers cupping your cheeks gently, and as he kissed you, you could swear you had never felt more alive.

As you broke away you gazed at him, into those eyes you’d grown so familiar with, those eyes that held so much hope and promise that you found yourself wanting to lose yourself in them, forever. 

He was the man you’d never made it to the first date with, the one you’d sworn to hate for eternity. But he was also the man whose world had come crashing down the same way yours had, the one who knew your pain, your fears, your worries. He was the only other person who loved a certain little girl as much as you did. The little girl who had started it all.

You and Sehun. Sehun and you. And Yuna as the centre of your slightly crazy, but undoubtedly happy world. A family.

One you were going to love fiercely for the rest of your life.

3 years later.

“Mommy!”

You turned as you heard the sound of soft, determined footsteps approaching you in the kitchen. “I’m in here, Yuna!” you called, setting the last of the dishes aside.

It was funny, you thought, how much could change in just a few years. Your little Yuna, who could just about mumble words and stumble on her tiny feet, was now a growing girl with a curious mind of her own.

If taking care of a baby had been hard, handling a frantically energetic 5-year-old was sometimes a nightmare. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love every second of your life with Yuna. 

Every day felt like a new adventure, especially since she’d started pre-school. You’d pick her up every afternoon, and she’d rattle on with countless stories about her day, and you’d listen with a smile, amused at how little things managed to excite her so much. 

Even now, she was undoubtedly seeking you out to tell you something, and as she poked her head around the doorway, an excited grin on her face, you couldn’t help but smile back.

Sometimes, it hit you all at once, how much she’d grown. She wasn’t a baby any longer, though to you she would always remain one. She was taller, her hair twisted into little pigtails, her cheeks pink and her eyes twinkling. She looked more and more like Jisoo day by day, the likeness sometimes so striking that it made your heart ache.

“Look what I drew at school today!”

She held up a drawing, and your eyes widened. “It’s lovely, Yuna! But...why have you drawn me like that?”

Yuna giggled. “Because! That’s how you look. Your sto—”

She was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Daddy!” she squealed, and before you could say anything, she was dashing out of the kitchen. You followed behind, shaking your head in amusement.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall as Yuna launched herself at the tall man who was entering the apartment, his face already lit into a smile. “Hi princess,” he said, crouching down to let Yuna plant a kiss onto his cheek.

And then his eyes were locking onto yours, his grin never leaving his face as he walked towards you, raising his eyebrows. Sometimes it still annoyed you, how effortlessly handsome he was. Though you were by now so used to his perfect face, Oh Sehun still managed to surprise you with his good looks.

“What, no kisses for me?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes. Sehun leaned in and brushed his lips against yours, his hand reaching down and intertwining with your fingers. His thumb brushed over the sparkling jewel on your ring finger as he kissed you, and you felt your heart flutter. All these years later, he still managed to get you flustered over the littlest things.

He pulled back, still smiling. “As your husband, I’m slightly offended by the fact that you didn’t want to kiss me.”

Husband. It didn’t feel real, sometimes. That two years ago, you’d gotten married to Sehun, and that it had ended up being the best decision you had ever made. 

He had moved back from Busan in a matter of 6 months, and since then, neither of you had looked back. When he had proposed, you had said yes without even thinking twice. Because you had known that it was what you wanted. 

You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

You woke up every morning to whispered I love you’s and warm snuggles, the days filled with laughter and banter and silly arguments, the nights ending with you sometimes wanting to kill him, but loving him so much that it ended up not mattering anyway. 

What made you happiest, though, was seeing Yuna grow up in the way you knew Jisoo and Junmyeon had always wanted. In a loving household, with parents who loved her with every inch of their being, and who loved each other, too. A happy family.

That was soon going to grow.

Sehun’s eyes twinkled in amusement as Yuna handed him her drawing, and he snorted as he took in the doodle of you. Your hands automatically dropped to graze against your stomach.

“Do-does it really look that big?” you asked, feeling self-conscious.

Sehun shook his head, a soft laugh leaving his lips. You held a breath as he replaced your hand with his instead, his fingers ghosting over your stomach, gentle as they tried to sense the life that was blooming beneath.

Your baby.

The day you’d found out, nine months ago, was clear as crystal in your memory. The emotions you’d felt; shock, joy, uncertainty, fear. You remembered the look on Sehun’s face, his lips parted in amazement as the very first image of the baby was displayed on the ultrasound. 

You remembered feeling guilty, scared of what it meant, you having a child. 

You had wondered whether it was somehow unfair to Yuna, if you had a child of your own, and whether you would find yourself changing in your attitude towards her. You were terrified of developing some sort of a bias, of becoming a bad mother, of neglecting your duties towards her.

But Yuna was the one who had been the most delighted, ecstatic at the prospect of having a little brother or sister to play with. The first time the baby had kicked, Yuna had squealed in surprise, and Sehun had been so taken aback that he’d barely been able to speak. Seeing her so excited and happy, you’d realized that there wasn’t a chance that your fears would ever really materialize. 

Yuna wasn’t biologically yours, but that thought never crossed your mind as you cared for her. You loved her like any mother loved her child, and you realized then, that you having another child couldn’t possibly change the way you felt about Yuna. You would love them both, just as fiercely.

Sehun too, had been understandably nervous. Worried, about having to start from scratch and raise another baby. You’d fought a couple of times, both of you stressed and confused, until Sehun had finally declared that you were both acting stupid. That if you’d done it once, surely you could do it again. 

Together.

And now, nine months in, Sehun absolutely couldn’t wait to experience becoming a father, yet again.

“How are you feeling?” he murmured, his hand still incredibly gentle. You let out a breath. “I’m not sure. I’ve been uneasy all day, but the doctors said there’s still 2 weeks until I’m even due so I—”

You broke off, gnawing at your lip. Sehun furrowed his brows. “Huh. Maybe the baby’s going to come early?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Being pregnant is confusing. I just want this to be over.”

Sehun kissed your cheek. “You’ve been amazing, babe. Honestly. I remember Junmyeon went nuts when Jisoo had her mood swings with Yuna. You’ve been uh...surprisingly calm.”

You scowled. “Not helping.”

He chuckled. “Let’s go out to eat? You me and Yuna? It’ll get your mind off it.”

And so 10 minutes later, you were sitting in the car, your seatbelt fastened carefully over your bump. Nine months later and you were still getting accustomed to having it there. 

Yuna was jumping in the back seat, begging for her favorite songs to be played on the stereo, and Sehun was singing along loudly and over enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but be reminded of when Junmyeon and Jisoo had been the same, and how Sehun and you had found it so embarrassing. And now here you both were, unabashedly jamming to children’s music with a 5-year-old.

A sudden popping sensation from somewhere in your lower body made you gasp, and you grabbed Sehun’s arm abruptly. 

Could it be...?

Sehun glanced at you in surprise. “ I-I think my water just broke,” you breathed, and if you weren’t about to freak out yourself, you would have begun laughing at the complete look of terror on Sehun’s face.

“Shit. Shit. Okay. Shit,” he began, and you smacked him in the arm. “Don’t swear in front of Yuna,” you said, gasping as you felt the unmistakable flow of a liquid trickle down your thigh. 

It was really happening.

Sehun swerved the car, making a beeline for the hospital as you tried to breath in and out, your heart starting to beat erratically. You were clutching onto his arm so tight that you were pretty sure his skin was going to bear marks from your nails soon.

He pulled up to the entrance with a screech, jumping out and slamming the door as he rushed over to your side. You got out carefully, trying very hard to stay calm as Yuna grabbed your hand, her eyes wide. “Mommy’s going to be okay, hm?” you assured her, in the process somewhat assuring yourself.

You were going to give birth.

Everything seemed to pass by in a blur as Sehun ushered you into the hospital. The next thing you knew you were being wheeled on a stretcher into a room with blinding lights, and you could hear Yuna start to cry when she was stopped from coming with you. But you couldn’t even reassure her, because your contractions were getting shorter and shorter, and you felt dizzy in anticipation and quite frankly, fear.

You had never quite experienced this level of excruciating pain before. Even Sehun was deathly pale beside you as you screamed and sobbed, but his hand never once left yours, squeezing so hard that you feared your blood supply getting cut off. 

You weren’t sure how long the entire ordeal took. But at the end, you heard crying, and it might have been the baby, or it might have been you. It might even have been Sehun. 

All you heard before you blacked out was a soft voice.

“It’s a boy!”

When your eyes finally fluttered open, you felt light. You blinked slowly, reality finally hitting you as you realized where you were, and what had happened.

A baby boy. You had given birth to a baby boy.

“You’re awake,” said a tentative voice, and you turned your head to see your husband looking down at you worriedly, his lower lip bruised red from his teeth’s assault of it. 

You let out a somewhat relieved breath when you saw that Yuna was next to him, looking at you curiously. You automatically held out your hand to her, and she squeezed it, a smile returning to her face.

“Where’s the baby?” you asked cautiously, and Sehun got up, walking over to the far side of the room. 

It was as if all time slowed down when you saw him carefully pick up a tiny bundle, his hands incredibly gentle as he held it close to his chest. His eyes were soft as he gazed down at the newborn baby, and you felt your heart swell as you took in the sight.

You flashed back to 5 years ago, when you had seen him hold Yuna like that. How the two of you had quarreled, even then, but how you’d been surprised at his gentleness with her. Even though you’d disliked him, you hadn’t been able to deny the way his love for her had shone through, blinding out the parts of him that you had despised. 

And now here he was, as your husband, and as a father of not one, but two children. He’d become a man you’d fallen in love with, a man you still fell in love with, over and over, every single day. It struck you how you couldn’t possibly love him any more than you did in that moment, so fully, as he blinked back sudden tears, his arms shaking slightly as he finally handed your baby to you. 

You couldn’t help a soft gasp that left you as you gazed down at the tiny baby, whose eyes were squeezed shut, his fists curled up in his blanket. You’d loved him for nine months. You were ready to love him with your entire being for the rest of his life.

You held a breath as you placed a soft kiss to his small forehead, your heart leaping as Sehun put his arm around you, his other hand holding Yuna close.

You wondered if from somewhere up in the sky, Jisoo and Junmyeon were looking down at you. If they were at peace, if they were happy. Somehow, you knew in your heart that they were. That their blessings were going to remain with you and this family of yours, forever.

Your beautiful family.

And at last, all was well.

A/N: And there you have it! What a fun journey it’s been, writing this series. I hope the ending is one you all like, because I feel like that’s something I’m still nervous about, even though I don’t think I wanted it to end any other way. I honestly never thought that this series would get the enormous amount of love that it did, and I’m so, so incredibly grateful to everyone who has supported it throughout; whether it be by sending me asks or commenting or even just reading! Every kind message made this whole experience even more exciting, and for that, I want to say thank you :) I hope you had as much fun reading as I’ve had writing! x

[blatherkatt]

Title: The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You Know [Homestuck]

Intermission 1 

Summary: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: Mentioned/implied abuse; Pesterlogs, No seriously this entire chapter is just logs, swear the next chapters at least a third finished but in the meantime this bit got way out of hand so here 

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— excerpt of chatlog from group chat “assholes anonymous” 6/13/2015 —

GG: And I’m afraid that’s all Roxy and I know. She got a call from Terezi yesterday saying that she would need to wait a few days before coming down to visit again.

GT: Holy toledo! Christ on a cracker i really picked a bad time to study abroad didnt i. So much happened while i was gone!

— timaeusTestified [TT] is online! —

GT: I feel like a right fool for not checking my messages from anyone while i was away but i was just so overwhelmed by how many there were and so tired out from being in another country and all.

GT: Oh!

TG: DIRK

TG: motherfucker tell me whats goin on!!!!

GG: There you are! Is everything alright?

TT: Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, give me a minute.

TT: Well. No. That’s wrong.

TT: Everything’s pretty much gone to shit, but everyone’s alive, somehow, and for the time being things have cooled the fuck off.

TG: aaaaaah now im even more scared what happened?!!

GT: Er its good to be back but the girls have been filling me in on whats played out in my absence and im afraid im on roxys side here what in the devilfucking dickens is going on exactly?

GG: Thirded!

TT: I take it you didn’t get around to reading the messages I sent you then, Jake?

TT: Which is fine. I kind of figured. Whatever.

TT: Short version: There was an attempt to reclaim Dave by some of the old man’s lackeys.

TT: An attempt which Dave knew about well in advance.

TG: oh shit

TG: oh shit dave nooooo D:

GG: Oh, goodness.

TT: I caught him having a panic attack in the kitchen, during the middle of the night on the twelfth. He managed to tell me essentially that we had four hours to prepare, and then we’d be under attack.

TT: He was planning on going with the quietly, apparently, but changed his mind at the last minute, I guess.

TT: Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he told us, but…Ugh.

TT: It seemed like he was starting to get a little better, finally, and then this huge fucking setback hits.

TT: It’s frustrating.

GT: I’ll say it is! Gosh dirk im so sorry i missed so much of the leadup to this.

GT: Getting the poor boy back after ten years only for him to be such a mess and to finally get somewhere only to lose so much progress…

TG: aaaaaaaugh

TG: i mean is it really a setback though? he still told you!

TG: ive been having the hardest time getting him to talk about anything that happened to him and i think he n i get on pretty well

TG: he still chose to stay with us!

TT: Yeah, and it only took him two fucking months to do so. I don’t even know if he made that choice because he actually wants to be here.

TT: It’s more like he just decided we’re the lesser of two evils.

GG: Well, that’s better than nothing, right?

TT: Ha.

TT: Sure, I guess. Pardon me if I’m not thrilled, though.

TG: diiiiiirk

TG: dirk chill out a little like i get it but seriously!

TG: trust me dave doesnt want to be mean to anybody

TT: Of course he doesn’t.

TT: I’m not mad at Dave at all, don’t get me wrong.

TT: This is my fault.

GT: Now wait just a moment there strider!

GG: How on Earth is any of this your fault? It sounds to me like you made the best of a bad situation! Dave’s the only one who knew about this!

TT: It all goes back to that first meeting at the police station.

TT: I set the precedent. Made everything a him-versus-us, with Karkat his only ally.

TT: He doesn’t trust us because I somehow said exactly the wrong thing to him back in that interrogation room.

TG: im sure thats not it

TG: dirk hes not one to hold a grudge like you and rose are theres gotta be another reason

TT: I’d be happy to hear it, then, because I’m fucking clueless.

TT: Of all the problems I’ve tried to solve, my own fucking brother is proving the most enigmatic.

TT: He’s the fucking labyrinth at Crete, and I don’t have nearly enough fucking yarn to get through this.

TT: And apparently I’m a fucking outlier in that respect. Roxy’s figured Dave out, the fucking aliens get along with him fine, and apparently even Rose made up with him while my back was turned, because he’s been following her around all day, even though she ripped into him yesterday over Kanaya.

TT: Who, by the way, is a fucking vampire now. I feel like I’m losing brain cells just writing that, but there it is.

TT: I’m sharing the house with a literal alien vampire. I’m officially one of the side characters in my aunt’s trashy books.

TG: dirk dude im telling you dave isnt as complicated as you keep making him out to be!

TG: hes not a puzzle that needs to be solved hes just a scared kid!

TT: Why is he still scared, then? Why?

TT: I believe you, but how do I make him be not scared?

TT: Why the fuck can’t I understand my own brother!

— timaeusTestified [TT] is offline —

GG: Oh no.

GT: Jesus jumping jehosaphat!

— timaeusTestified [TT] is online —

TT: Sorry.

TT: Got a little too worked up, hit my desk hard enough that something came unplugged.

TG: dirk

TG: dirk.

TG: holy shit.

TT: I’m, uh, also sorry that I actually hit enter on those last few posts. That was kind of shitty. I’ll get a lid on it.

GT: You gave us all quite a fright there!

GG: I’ll say.

GG: You shouldn’t feel bad, though! I for one am glad you were honest!

GG: Maybe we can all figure out something! If Rose got things sorted out after the rocky start you mentioned, then I’m sure you can, too!

TG: have you tried talkin to him yet

TT: Oh, yeah, because talking to him went so well last time.

TT: Look, I appreciate the advice. But at this point,

TT: I’m pretty much prepared to just accept that he wants nothing to do with me.

TT: Can’t really blame him. I look like the old man. Probably set off enough bad memories that I’m just going to scare him worse.

TT: I’ll just stay out of his way as best I can.

TG: dirk that is literally the exact opposite of what you should be doing

GT: Well i dont know roxy it might work out better that way.

GT: Give the lad his space and let him settle in on his own time!

GT: Let the air clear a bit before trying anything you know?

TG: jake trust me dave needs a lot of really explicit verbal reassurance

TG: he is the scaredest fucking kid you can imagine okay

TG: he apologizes for things that arent even things that should be apologized for

TG: and says hes sorry again even after you tell him hes done nothing wrong just to be extra sure

TG: and he wont do anything unless you specifically tell him hes allowed

TG: and even then hes super cautious about it

GG: Gosh…

TT: Exactly.

TT: If he’s that scared, me forcing him into a conversation is only going to make things worse. It’s not going to be a productive talk if he’s completely shut down.

TT: I’ll figure it out, alright? Just.

TT: I need to rethink things, maybe. Slow down a little.

TT: It’s just a setback. We’ll recover.

TG: uuuuugh

TG: this whole things such a mess :(

TG: let me know when im allowed to come over and hug on him again will you?

TT: Sure thing.

TG: hug him yourself in the meantime!

TT: Probably not a great idea, Rox.

TG: >:(

— excerpt of chatlog from group chat “who you gonna call” 6/13/2015 —

EB: geez. thats pretty crazy.

EB: i cant believe dave would put you guys all in danger like that.

GG: im sure he didnt mean to!

TT: I agree, actually, Jade.

GG: :0 !!!

EB: really?

TT: I spoke to Dave after all the carnage ended, and I’ve come to realize that I’ve been completely misinterpreting his behavior.

TT: I’ve been viewing everything he does through the lens of my own behavior and Dirk’s, and assuming that everything he did which irritated me was done out of some form of antagonism.

TT: Yesterday, I learned exactly how far off I’ve been, and I’d like to apologize for sharing that mistaken impression with you two.

TT: The problem hasn’t been that Dave is holding some petty grudge. It’s that he’s been scared.

GG: :(

GG: :( :( :(

EB: scared? dave?

TT: Terrified, even.

TT: He was literally so frightened when I confronted him that he could barely move.

GG: oh no! rose!

TT: I apologized, I promise, and I’ve been trying to reign myself in around him now that I know there is fear at foot.

TT: I’m a little horrified myself, frankly, at how bad things must be for him.

EB: but if hes so scared why didn’t he just tell you guys sooner?

TT: He’s scared both ways, essentially. Terrified of what we’ll do to him if he breaks some rule here, terrified of what our father will do to him.

TT: I had expected trauma from the beginning, but when it didn’t present in the ways I expected, I assumed he was just fine.

TT: But this is…

TT: It’s as if his fear responses, even his fight or flight reflex, are just…broken.

TT: Like I said, when I confronted him, his eyes were huge and terrified, but he made no move to defend himself, nor did he try to escape. He just…braced himself. Readying himself for a blow that I had no intention of ever delivering, but which he dreaded more with every second it didn’t come.

TT: Ever since, I’ve been paying attention to his body language, since it’s so hard to read his expressions when he’s got those sunglasses on, and I’ve noticed so many times where he tenses up, so suddenly and to such an extreme that I’m surprised it doesn’t physically hurt him.

TT: And it’s not just for legitimate potential threats, like someone looking angry. He does it for the slightest sounds, for random movements, sometimes seemingly for no reason at all.

TT: Hes like some feral animal, constantly thinking he’s going to be hunted, and yet, he can’t run. He just sits there and waits for the blow to land, hoping that if he simply takes whatever punishment is thrown on him, it will end sooner.

TT: And all I can think is just…

TT: What kind of hell has he been through for these past ten years that he reacts to things as simple as a creaking floorboard or a waving hand makes him think he’s going to be attacked?

TT: What did that son of a bitch do to my brother?

EB: jesus.

GG: D:

EB: i always knew that things were bad for dave but i didnt think it was any where near that bad!

GG: hes not in too much trouble is he??

TT: Not at all.

TT: Terezi let him off with a warning, and there’s not much else we can do to him, besides. He’s already under house arrest.

TT: He knows what he did wrong.

GG: thats good! i wonder why he waited so long to tell the truth though?

TT: I’m pretty sure at this point that he was never intending on telling us.

EB: what! why not!

TT: I don’t think he believes he has a choice. He did tell Dirk what happened while having a panic attack, after all. I suspect it may have been something similar to the sort of terror that strikes when you realize it’s the end of a vacation period from school, and you’re not ready to go back yet.

TT: Except, you know, way worse, on account of it being abuse at the hands of a literal terrorist he would have to return to.

TT: He said something that stuck with me, when I asked, and he seemed very genuinely sad when he said it.

TT: “It doesn’t matter what I want. He’s going to come back for me again.”

TT: He’s so resigned to a fate that he is not actually doomed to.

EB: wow :(

TT: But on the bright side,

TT: I think he’s starting to realize that we really aren’t going to hurt him.

GG: yeah?

TT: He’s been following me around like a lost puppy all day. He jumps whenever I move too quickly, but he’s actually here in the room with Kanaya and I right now. The two of them have been chatting on and off for a while.

TT: I suspect it may be just that he hasn’t worked up the courage to talk to Karkat yet, but even so, he seems like he’s testing a boundary.

TT: Pushing to see if I really am no longer angry with him. It’s certainly a welcome change from his usual habit of hiding in his own bedroom.

GG: oh gosh!! can you tell him i said hi?

EB: holy shit hes right with you? get him online!

TT: John, he’s not allowed to use a computer, remember?

EB: fuck!

EB: tell him i said hi too, then!

GG: looool

TT: Done.

TT: He lit up a little, and mumbled a “Hi” right back.

GG: :D

EB: lol, dork.

TT: He says “This coming from John ‘unironically likes Nick fucking Cage’ Egderp.”

EB: >:B !!!!

— golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] —

GT: Hey, um.

GT: I know this is probably not something you really want to hear just now, but i really do want to apologize.

GT: I just got so distracted and worn out while abroad, and you always send so damned many messages, i didnt have the energy to read them all.

TT: It’s fine.

GT: No it isnt! Dirk i know how hugely important getting dave home has been to you ive known for ages!

GT: And whatever tumultuous relationship status we may currently be sharing youre still my best bro and i feel like a right horse’s arse for not being here for you during such a rollercoaster of a rough time!

TT: It’s alright, really. I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s wholly unnecessary.

GT: I promise ill at least try and check my messages more and keep more up to date on the situation.

GT: Let me know if theres any way i can help alright?

TT: Sure.

TT: Welcome home, by the way. It’s nice to talk to you again.

GT: Likewise!

— twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling grimAuxilitrix [GA] —

TA: TZ told me two me22age you, and by that ii mean 2he woke me up wiith a text 2aying ‘talk two kanaya a2ap a22hole 2hit2 gone down’.

TA: 2o what exactly ii2 goiing on.

GA: Um

GA: Well Im A Rainbow Drinker Now

TA: oh.

TA: you know what actually fuck thii2 iim goiing back two 2leep.

— twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling grimAuxilitrix [GA] —

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Cover You In Oil, pt3

Word Count: 6113 Tags: @outside-the-government, @yourtropegirl @to-pick-ourselves-up-7, @ghostssss, @rampant-salamander

Central Park had a totally different feel than the boardwalk at home, Sally reflected as she wove and dodged through foot traffic on her morning run. There were more people, the air was cooler, and the feel of her feet on the paved path was so very different than the wooden boardwalk that stretched across the beachfront in front of her home. The sweat felt the same though.

Sally had awakened tense and irritable. She’d tossed and turned all night long, barely sleeping. She knew she’d been kept awake by the reality of her soulmate being just a few floors away, knowing she existed. She had felt the inexplicable pull to him since he’d first uttered his words to her, two days ago. The draw to be near him was like a weight on her chest. While trying to swim. Every time she denied the urge to go to him, she felt as though she might sink under the waves and drown.

“Drama much, Manners? Jesus,” she stopped to take a few wheezing breaths and shook her head, embarrassed by the exaggerated metaphors whirling around in her head. She wondered if Stark – Tony, she corrected herself – was feeling the same way. She took a deep breath and started running again, pushing herself until her brain let go of the miasma of worry about Tony Stark, and just thought about making it to the end of the run.

She took a long, hot shower after her run, allowing the water to beat down on her sore muscles until she was fully relaxed. She toweled off in the bathroom, wiping her arm across the steamy mirror to look at herself, to try to see the way Tony had described her. The spray of freckles across her nose made her look like a little girl, she thought. And her eyes were a pale blue that wasn’t anything special, framed by eyelashes so blonde you could hardly see them. She dropped the towel and stared hard at her reflection. She was pear-shaped. Not wildly so, but she was broad through the thighs and ass. Part of that was the runner’s physique. Her breasts were smaller than she would have liked. They weren’t tiny, but they weren’t in proportion to her hips, which made it awkward fitting dresses and buying bathing suits. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant body, and Sally knew that. She wasn’t rabid about fitness like most of the women she’d encountered since she’d moved to California, but she was active, loving to be outside in the sun. But being in a culture of women who were obsessed with their personal brand because it was part of their work made her question her own body. She wrapped her towel around herself and padded across the suite to her room to get dressed before riding the elevator to the garage.

The bay beside the Challenger was filled with another shipment of parts and pieces that Sally had ordered. She quickly reconciled the pick slip against her inventory before climbing back under the chassis. She quickly inspected the chassis for structural weaknesses; marking any spots she felt needed reinforcement or repair.

Welding was one of Sally’s favourite things about working on cars because you could actually watch the car become stronger. It was like an allegory for human relationships. Just as a friend could shore up your weaknesses, and make you stronger, reinforcing the frame of a vehicle could give the car new life. It wasn’t a completely perfect metaphor, but it was something Sally often found herself considering when she was welding new into old. The arc of the torch sputtered and threw a spray of sparks all around her as she worked. When her reinforcements were complete, she took the grinder to the chassis and smoothed everything out, taking the time to buff off the rust as well, and give it a final inspection. It looked good. She washed up and grabbed from her iPad to note her progress, but couldn’t find it.

“Fuck! JARVIS?” Sally looked up at the ceiling, annoyed.

“Yes, Ms. Manners?” She wasn’t sure if she found the masculine British accent creepy or soothing. With her iPad missing, she was leaning towards creepy.

“My iPad?” She asked.

“Mr. Stark retrieved it this morning to clone to your new StarkPad,” JARVIS almost sounded apologetic.

“Can you figure out a way to get it back to me?” She asked. “It has all my schematics on it. I don’t know that there’s an app for that in StarkPadLand.” She sighed heavily and boosted herself up onto the tool bench.

“I will have it returned to you within the next fifteen minutes,” JARVIS promised. Sally hopped down and decided to forage for something to drink.

“No hurry, provided you tell me where I can get a cup of coffee?” She asked.

“There is a commissary for SI staff on the ground floor, but Mr. Barton reports that the coffee there is like horse urine mixed with cat emesis. There’s a Starbucks in the lobby on the main floor. There is a communal kitchen for residents of the tower on level 63, where you will find a coffee maker and food. There is currently a fresh pot of coffee brewing,” JARVIS listed.

“Level 63 it is then,” Sally nodded and headed toward the elevator. Sally leaned against the back wall of the elevator and tapped her foot to the muzak, not really paying attention as the floors passed by on the illuminated sign. She was midway through the elevator trip when she realized it was hard rock muzak and giggled. The duration of the short ride was spent trying to figure out what was playing. She gave up when the doors opened. “JARVIS, what was playing?”

“AC/DC, Ms. Manners.” Sally strode off the elevator directly toward the coffee maker in the kitchen. The glass-fronted cabinet above the coffee maker held a variety of coffee cups, some of them looking better worn than others. Residents obviously had favourite cups. She flipped through them, determined to find one that did not show signs of frequent use, but stopped at the one that she assumed must be Tony’s, based on the ‘because fuck you, I own the company’ etched across is. She filled the cup nearly to the brim and then rummaged around until she found a banana in the fruit dish. She sat at the table, and flipped through her email, thanking whatever deities she could think of that she still had a grip on her iPhone.

While she chewed her banana and waited for her coffee to reach a drinkable temperature, she responded to an inquiry about work overseas. She’d been receiving increasing numbers of inquiries about working on cars in Europe for the past six months or so. She was kind of interested, as the main inquiry was coming from a collector in Latveria, and Latveria had closed borders. It would be interesting to see a place that so few outsiders had seen. She was startled out of her contemplation by the heavy slap of her iPad on the table in front of her. She looked up and smiled at Clint.

“So you’re the sneaky one?” Sally asked.

“Actually Nat’s much better at sneaky. I just happened to see it first. Vested interest,” he shrugged. “How’s my baby this morning?”

Sally opened her schematics and scrolled through to her action list. She’d developed the app with the help of a neighbour who was a computer programmer, and as she marked tasks complete, it generated new tasks based on an algorithm from previous projects. She cleared the task list, and waited as it repopulated with another list.

“Today I start the engine rebuild, but first follow-up with the machine shop. I’m waiting on the head gaskets right now. I like having everything on hand before I start.” She read through the list and nodded to herself. “Just dirty work today mostly. Not a lot of fun. Once I have the engine rebuilt, we’ll sit down and talk about the interior. I’ve had a great upholsterer recommended and I should have samples today for you to look over.” She took a long pull off her coffee. It was strong and rich, and the smell made her close her eyes and just enjoy.

“You probably only have about twenty minutes before Tony realizes that iPad is missing, Sally,” Clint warned her.

“My estimate puts it at seven minutes, thirty-four point six seconds,” JARVIS commented. Sally snapped the cover closed on the device and picked it and her coffee up.

“That’s my cue to get back to work then,” Sally commented as she headed back toward the elevator. Back at the car, she flipped through the schematics for the engine and started sorting her parts. She noticed when Tony arrived this time, but chose to keep working instead of stopping and waiting on him to approach her.

“I have your StarkPad here,” he started. Sally turned, her eyebrow raised.

“Does it have my proprietary apps on it? Because I don’t recall agreeing to allowing this app on more than the iOS platform,” Sally challenged him, meeting his gaze.

“I was in the process of rebuilding your app when you stole your iPad –“

“I can’t steal what already belongs to me, Tony.” Sally rolled her eyes. She slapped her hand down on top of the iPad when Tony moved to take it again. “Dude, I need it. I live and die by my app. I appreciate the amusing and weirdly possessive gesture, but I need my iPad for work.”

Tony sighed and leaned against the tool bench. “Let me work on the app at night then? When you aren’t working on the car?”

“I thought nighttime was for courtship, Tony?” Sally teased. “It should also be for homework. You know nothing about me.”

“I know more than you realize.” Tony was a little peevish in his response. “You buy an alarming amount of things online.”

“Analyzing my online purchases isn’t going to help you. I buy a lot of stuff for work online!” Sally laughed.

“I don’t think your armour bra was for work. Or the size 8 Brooks running shoes. Is it weird I find your running gear purchasing more sexy than your lingerie purchases?” He deadpanned.

“Not really, since I don’t buy lingerie online,” Sally retorted. “My armour bra is about as close as it gets. It’s not really sexy though, unless you’re into compressed and flattened and not going to move an inch.”

“Well, can we assume that nighttime is for courtship, homework and adapting your app for use on the StarkPad?” Tony conceded. He’d given in too easily, Sally realized, but she went with it anyhow.

“Sure.” She turned back to the engine. Tony leaned against the workbench and watched as she puzzled through assembling part of the transmission.

“Is that my coffee cup?” He suddenly asked, spying the coffee cup beside Sally.

“I don’t know. Is it?” Sally raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t see a ‘hands off, property of Tony Stark’ label on it.”

“Oh god, are we already into the what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine shit?” Tony laughed. Sally smirked and shook her head.

“Go away. You’re distracting me,” she demanded. Tony stuck out his tongue and pushed forward, taking a step toward her. He brushed her ponytail over her shoulder and pressed his lips against her neck.

“Who is distracting?” He asked. “Because I’m pretty sure I have things I need to be working on, but there’s this spot right here on your shoulder that just looks neglected.”

“It does, does it?” Sally bit back a snort of amusement. Tony’s lips pressed against the nape of her neck again and she shivered involuntarily. She wriggled out of his reach, pushing off the stool she was sitting on and leveling a glare at Tony. “I’m busy, dude. If you want to do this courtship thi-“ She was interrupted by her phone ringing. “Hello, this is Sally.”

As she turned away from Tony, her brow furrowed. “What? What do you mean?” She paused and then laughed. “Oh for sure! Yeah, I’ll head over this afternoon,” she paused and nodded. “No, of course not, I can’t spend all my time out here cooped up in a garage. I’ll see you this afternoon.” She disconnected the call, and turned back to Tony.

“So, where are we going?” Tony asked. Sally sighed.

“I need to go to the machine shop about some of the parts,” Sally said. “I don’t know where you were planning on going.”

“How many times have you been to New York?” Tony countered.

“Some,” Sally shrugged. It was very few, and she’d mostly just be there for shows.

“So you totally know your way around?” He challenged.

“Yes?” She cringed. He was calling her bluff and it was effective.

“Do you want me to give you a lift? I can stay in the car, not make a scene,” he offered. Sally sighed again and bit her lip.

“Okay. But no distracting anyone. Not me, not the guys, no one,” she bargained. He nodded. “Now fuck off, I have work to do.”

Tony gasped and then laughed. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Play your cards right, I might even kiss you with it,” Sally winked. “Now go!”

“I’m taking my coffee cup,” Tony leaned over to grab the mug.

“Touch it and I will kill you. Billionaire, Avenger, whatever. You’ll make a pretty corpse,” she threatened. Tony’s hands shot up and he backed away. When he was out of arm’s reach, he smirked.

“Not sure whether I’m turned on or terrified. That’s almost a turn on all by itself,” he remarked. Sally threw a dirty rag at him, and he laughed and hustled away from the car toward the front of the garage.

The machine shop was everything Sally loved about restoration. There was a calendar from the seventies with a pin-up sprawled across the hood of a corvette on the wall, and oil stains on the floor. In the back, in a walled in room, was the cleanest machining set-up she’d seen in years. A balding guy, not much taller than Tony, approached, rubbing his hands on a dirty, oil-stained rag. He had a layer of stubble on his chin and his coveralls were in the same filthy, torn condition that Sally’s were back home in California.

“Sally? That’s quite the car you brought,” the guy nodded toward the open garage bay, where Tony had parked his Audi R8. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, playing with his phone.

“Nothing like the Challenger I’m restoring, Paul. You should see it,” Sally laughed. “I’m not the best at directions, so I brought a local.”

“A local! Sweetheart, everyone knows Tony Stark,” Paul laughed.

“Well, he insisted,” Sally shrugged. “Anyhow, the head gaskets?” She redirected the conversation.

“Yeah, we fabbed them off the originals you sent us, but they don’t line up right. I’m going to redo them, and will have them to you this evening. I’ll drop them off for you myself. But I also wanted to give you this,” Paul presented her with a new steering wheel. “We heard the car was for the Hawkeye. He’s given a lot back to the community.”

The steering wheel was super cool, Sally thought. The three spokes coming off the centre hub were stylized arrows. The steel had been heat tempered until it had turned purple, and the wheel itself was wrapped in black leather with purple piping.

“Wow,” Sally breathed. “This is fabulous.”

“Barton’s good people, Sally,” Paul explained. “Make that car fabulous. Anything you need, you let me know.”

“Thanks Paul,” Sally nodded. “I’ll be in touch.” She offered his hand and appreciated the firm handshake he gave. She headed back to the car and slid into the passenger seat, carefully settling the gift in her lap.

“That’s for Legolas?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, I guess he lives around here somewhere?” Sally shrugged.

“Right,” Tony nodded, shifting the car into gear and pulling away from the garage. “Where’s your head gaskets?”

“Not ready. Paul said they’d be ready this afternoon, so I either work on the car tonight or I’m a day delayed,” Sally hedged. She was nervous about this notion of courtship that Tony had in his mind. There was too much touching already, and they’d only been to dinner once. Tony turned left out onto the main road they’d come from Midtown on.

“Stay on an extra day,” he shrugged. “I guess that gives us this afternoon?”

“Well, I could be working on other stuff. I should be making Clint choose from upholstery samples for his interior.” Sally didn’t recognize the buildings they were passing, and realized Tony had turned away from Midtown. “Where are we going?”

“God’s a skeeball addict,” Tony quipped. The quote seemed familiar, and Sally wrinkled her nose trying to recall where she’d heard it. “Coffee?”

“God, yes,” she breathed, distracted. Tony pulled into a parking lot and disappeared inside a Starbucks, returning a few minutes later with two cups of coffee. One of them said ‘Iron Man’ on the side of it. The other said ‘Friend’. Sally raised an eyebrow and took the offered cup. “Friend?”

“I’m not about to announce in a Starbucks that I’ve met my soulmate. Media frenzy. And then suddenly, you’re in danger. Because hi, Iron Man.” Tony turned back onto the street and continued away from Midtown.

“You still haven’t answered me,” Sally commented, inhaling the aroma of her coffee. It was strong and just the scent alone was enough to push back the niggling headache that was threatening her. She’d only had one cup of coffee since getting up. She was reasonably sure her circulatory system was more caffeine than blood at this point in her life. One cup just no longer cut it.

“Can nothing be a surprise to you?” Tony asked, his tone light. “It might be weird if you’re a huge control freak. Because I am also a huge control freak. In my experience, one control freak is enough in a relationship, and technically I’m older, so I came into that character flaw first.” Tony never looked away from the road as he spoke, but the corner of his mouth tilted up just enough that Sally understood he was half-teasing.

“So what you’re saying is that I should just let you kidnap me to god-knows-where because you’re an old man and God loves skeeba-“ Sally trailed off. “Are you seriously taking me to Coney Island?”

“I’m not sure if you can tell that I am relieved that you figured that out on your own. I don’t know if I could have been with a person who doesn’t know Dogma.” Tony’s relief appeared genuine.

“It was a great movie,” Sally shrugged. “I have a question. Since we’re on this whole getting to know you thing.”

“Shoot.”

“You said something about being mostly attracted to women when I first spoke to you?” Sally knew it wasn’t a question, but she posed it as one anyhow.

“You avoided me for over twenty years. My guess is because you followed gossip mostly.” Tony’s voice took on a very serious tone. “There wasn’t a whole lot of inaccuracies in the gossip, if I’m completely honest with you. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, I just –“

“You’ve known ever since your mark showed up that you would be with a man. My mark made me think I would wind up with one too. It was pretty difficult,” he sighed deeply before continuing, “it was really difficult to reconcile that I really prefer women. Like my soulmark was some sort of cosmic joke, destined to be with a man, but preferring the company of women.”

“But you can’t just choose to prefer one or the other, Tony. It’s hardwired into your brain,” Sally argued.

“I know. I don’t dislike men. I just prefer women. I figured whoever he was; he was going to be amazing. So I stayed open to the possibility.” They were stopped at a red light, and he turned to look at her. Sally met his gaze.

“You’re a surprising man, Tony Stark,” Sally admitted. She was seeing him in a different light, despite his admission that he was everything she’d ever read about him. He seemed like all those things, but human too. And vulnerable. Because humanity is vulnerable.

“Are you okay with that?” Tony asked. “That I’m bi?”

“Yes.” Sally knew better than to offer a lighthearted comment or retort. He didn’t know her well enough to know how she would react and he was showing a different kind of bravery than was required to wear the Iron Man suit. “Besides,” she added, to lighten the mood, “You’re mine now, so what does it matter?”

“Have you ever?” He trailed off, looking back at the road when the light changed.

“No. Like you said, I grew up knowing I would end up with a man. Even if I had been interested elsewhere, what would the point have been? There was nothing to force me to remain open-minded,” Sally shook her head.

“Wait, did you just say I’m yours now?” Tony asked, turning his head to look at her again. Sally could feel her cheeks flushing, and tried to avoid looking back at him, but even from the corner of her eye, she should see the self-satisfied smirk on his face. She groaned inwardly. He was going to be completely impossible as a result.

“Shut up or I’ll take it back,” she grumbled.

Coney Island was exactly as she expected it be, while at the same time being completely different. When she said as much to Tony, he laughed at her.

“Let me guess,” he chuckled. “Just as cheesy as you expected, but a lot cleaner?”

“Less cheesy I think?” Sally pondered. “I don’t know. I was definitely expecting cheesy and it is. But there’s something about it. Is it because it’s such a landmark? I grew up hearing about Coney Island. Pops had shipped out from New York for the war, and he spent a couple weeks here before he left. He raved about it. And then, when I was a kid and we were here, Pops wouldn’t take us near it, it was so rundown and sketchy. I guess I was just expecting some of what Pops saw that saddened him.”

“Your Pops had a pretty big influence on your life, it seems,” Tony commented.

“Yeah. Mom and Dad were one of those couples that were so in love they didn’t really see the rest of the world around them. Don’t get me wrong, they loved me and I was the centre of their universe completely. But come summer time, I would head to stay with Nan and Pops for a couple of months, while Mom and Dad vacationed together. When Dad followed Mom back to Seattle, I think they missed him. And Nan and Pops didn’t get much chance to come visit us. Pops was always busy running the farm. So I would go stay with them for the summer, and get spoiled rotten, and Mom and Dad would get a year’s worth of date nights in about six weeks time,” Sally explained. “How about you?”

“My Dad was already old when I was born. If he’d had parents to ship me to, I’m sure he would have.” Tony’s jaw went tight, and Sally sensed there was more to that story. “Jarvis was more like a parent for much of my childhood.”

“JARVIS your AI?” Sally gaped.

“No, Jarvis was the butler,” Tony laughed. “I thought you’d done your homework on me?”

“Just on your manwhore ways,” Sally quirked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t know.”

“Hot dog?” He stopped walking in front of Nathan’s, changing the topic completely. Sally looked up at the sign and back to Tony. He was clearly finished talking about his Dad, and as much as Sally thought he probably needed years of therapy to untangle the complexity of what hadn’t been said about Howard Stark in those few words, she knew she wasn’t getting anything else out of him while they were out.

“Uh, yeah.” She allowed him to thread his fingers between hers and drag her toward the restaurant. He ordered while Sally took in the restaurant around her. She turned around and looked around. Tony distracted her woolgathering by waving the hot dog under her nose and tilting his head toward one of the empty tables outside. She smirked and followed, sitting down at one of the round cement tables. Tony sat beside her and handed the dog to her.

“Are you a puker?” He asked, dropping his hand on the hot dog before she could pick it up. Sally furrowed her brow and shook her head.

“Not as a general rule,” she narrowed her eyes, and lifted his hand off her hot dog. Before he could react, she lifted it and took a bite. It was delicious. “Oh my god, this is amazing.”

“So if I were to take you on the roller coaster, I couldn’t get a hot dog coating?” Tony asked between bites of his hot dog.

“Dude, I repair cars for a living. At some point, do you think I might have driven one really really fast?” She teased. “I’m good.”

Tony smirked at her and watched her finish her hot dog in silence. It made her a little self-conscious, but she wasn’t oblivious to the wonder in his gaze either. It made her feel special.

“You have some mustard on your face,” he gestured vaguely to her left side. She flushed a little, and wiped her face with a napkin, raising her eyebrows in question as she wadded the napkin up in her fist. He nodded, but shifted his weight so that their hips were pressed against each other on the cement bench. His face drew close to hers and Sally forced herself to breath and not move when he got so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin. She closed her eyes, not quite sure what to anticipate. His mustache brushed against her cheek, and then she felt his tongue flick across the edge of her lip. She sucked in her breath through her nose and opened her eyes.

“There was a tiny bit left,” Tony explained. Sally’s heart crashed in her chest, waiting for more, but Tony just leaned away and pushed up from the bench with a cocky, self-assure smirk.

“You’re an asshole,” she huffed, collecting her garbage and turning away from him toward the garbage can. She could hear his laugh as she flounced away, and as she fought with the dirty flap on the garbage can lid, trying to avoid touching it, his arms slipped around her waist, and he dropped a kiss on the side of her neck.

“I am. But I need you to want me,” he murmured. Sally felt her eyes fill with tears and she blinked them back quickly. He wanted her to want him, not pity him. She finally managed to get the grubby flap to swing open without her hand touching it, and dropped her garbage. She turned back to face Tony.

“And licking the mustard off me is the way to do that?” She teased. Tony shrugged and dropped his arm over her shoulder.

“You don’t seem like the kind of woman who would be impressed with me buying you a corporation or small country, so I thought I’d start small,” he quipped back. Sally let out a warm laugh.

“No, I don’t find the thought of being a CEO or a despot particularly appealing.” She snaked her arm around his back and looped a finger through his belt loop as they walked.

“See? We have a lot in common. I don’t like those things either.” His laughed was nice, Sally thought.

“Didn’t you say something about a roller coaster?” Sally changed the subject. Tony nodded ahead of them.

“Just through there, Ms. Manners,” he winked. Sally looked up, and sure enough, just across the street, beyond the roofs of the midway games and other rides, rose the imposing latticework of the Cyclone.

“You’re sure you won’t puke? These shoes were –“

“Shut up and get in the car, Tony,” Sally gave him a none-to-gentle shove. “Are you sure you won’t?”

“Iron Man. I don’t puke the suit, why would I puke on this?” He asked as he stepped into the car and sat. Sally slipped into the seat beside him. The attendant dropped the bar across their lap and Tony placed his arm around her shoulder.

“I’m just saying, I’m currently wearing the nicest clothes I brought with me, so if you decide to barf on me, you’re on the hook for casual wear,” Sally taunted.

“I think I can hook you up,” he laughed as the train pulled toward the first peak. Sally smiled back at him and allowed the roller coaster to take them away. She shrieked, and laughed, and clung to Tony when she needed to. It was the most relaxed she’d been around him since they met, which she found ironic considering how nerve wracking the ride was. But less than two minutes later, as they were getting off the ride, she almost felt like she knew him better.

“Your legs aren’t even wobbly?” He asked, incredulous. Sally laughed.

“That was awesome!” She exclaimed. She pulled him against her and pressed an adrenaline fueled kiss against his lips. His arms wrapped around her and he responded, teasing her lips with his tongue, reaching up and dragging his hand through her hair. She pulled away and looked away, cheeks flushing again. “I feel like a teen girl with a crush when I’m around you, Tony. One minute I want to have my hands all over you, the next I wish you wouldn’t ever notice me.”

“Well, I’ve noticed you, Sally, there’s no changing that.” His words were low, and over the crowd, Sally could barely hear them. He traced his fingers down her arm until they were tangled with her own hand again and led her toward the boardwalk and beach. “Clint said something about you surfing?”

“He assumed I surf,” Sally laughed.

“So do you?” Tony pressed.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. Half the reason she’d bought the house she’d chosen was because of the proximity to the ocean and the great waves.

“You ever stepped into the Atlantic?” He asked, stopping where the wooden boardwalk met the sand. He stepped out of his shoes and let go of her hand to pull off his socks. Sally shook her head.

“I’ve never had time,” she admitted, watching as he rolled up his jeans to mid-calf. He looked at her expectantly.

“What are you waiting for, princess? Lose the shoes, and you’re already set to wade in.” He gestured at her sneakers and cut-offs.

“Is it cold?” She asked as she stepped on the heel of her sneaker to pull her foot out.

“Colder than you’ll be used to, but it’s not cold.”

“Well, that’s a non-answer,” Sally laughed. She picked her shoes up and stepped onto the sand. It was fine, and felt good squishing between her toes. The late afternoon sun had heated it up, and it was like a massage, walking down to the water. The temperature changed where the sand was wet, but Tony was right, the water wasn’t horribly cold, as it lapped up against the tips of her toes. She stepped a little deeper and glanced at Tony who was a step behind. He was holding his phone up and she was pretty sure he was taking a picture of her. She smiled and shook her head.

“What?” He asked.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” She asked.

“I might have,” he admitted and slipped the phone back into his jeans. She took a few more steps until the water was just above her ankles. Tony followed her, stepping close behind her, and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You’re a lot touchier than I would have guessed,” Sally commented. Tony chuckled into her ear.

“I’ve never been a big fan, actually. This is new,” he admitted. “My soulmark became legible when I was eleven. If my preliminary research is correct, you were a year old. Thirty-four years, Sally. My brain is probably trying to make up for lost time.”

“I’m sorry,” Sally relaxed into his arms, laying her hands on top of his. “Maybe I should have come looking for you.”

“It’s only been seven years that your mark would have made any sense, Sally.” She felt him shrug against her back. “Besides, I probably would have ruined everything.”

“Maybe. You might still ruin everything,” she teased. Tony grew very still behind her.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make us work, Sally.” His breath was warm against her neck. Sally swallowed thickly. She blinked and took a deep breath.

“Anything?” Sally asked. She felt him nod against her shoulder and smirked, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She stepped her foot between his legs and before he could figure out what she was up to, knocked him off balance and threw him over her shoulder into the cold ocean water with a triumphant laugh. He came up sputtering and swearing, and Sally dodged out of his reach until he regained his footing. He charged through the water at her, determination steeling his gaze and Sally shrieked with laughter, dodging just out of reach. She turned sharply back toward the water just as he dove toward her, and he just barely caught her foot as he splashed back into the surf. Sally tried to shake her foot free, but lost her balance and toppled into the shallows, face first. She pushed out of the water, shaking with laughter, and Tony crawled toward her through the gentle lapping waves of the tide coming in. His smile was predatory and Sally scuttled backward like a crab, trying to get away.

“Hey, fair is fair, princess,” Tony growled and reached for her foot again. She laughed and scrambled across the foam and sand.

“No, I’m already in the water, Tony. You’ve already got your revenge!” Sally shrieked and tried to get away, but Tony was just too fast, and pressed her into the shallows. She didn’t wind up under water; she’d made it to where the water was barely covering her ears. Tony crawled up the length of her body, pinning her with his own. When his face was hovering over hers, he dipped down to kiss her again. A sudden wave crashed over them, and they both came up sputtering and laughing.

“You’re very damp, Sally,” Tony pushed himself to his feet, and then pulled Sally to her feet. She laughed and ran her hands through his hair.

“You look like a drowned rat, Tony,” she laughed. “Oh god, your car! We’re going to wreck the interior!” Tony smirked and shook his head.

“I tossed a couple towels in the trunk this morning. It’ll be fine,” he said.

“You anticipated me chucking you in the drink?” She questioned, suspiciously.

“I’d actually hoped I’d be tossing you in first, but I knew we’d wind up wet,” he laughed. “Come on, let’s go.”

They stopped at a souvenir shop, and Tony stepped inside and came out with a t-shirt in a bag. He handed it to her and pointed at a change room. “You look cold.”

Sally took the proffered bag and went to change. She started laughing when she saw the front of the t-shirt, but dropped her wet clothes into the plastic bag and pulled the t-shirt over her head anyhow. She left her soaking panties on, but the t-shirt was long enough it came to mid-thigh. She walked back over to Tony, and she could tell he was trying not to laugh, but by the time she stood in front of him, he was howling with laughter.

“Oh, I make this look good,” Sally taunted, setting her hands on her hips. Instead of the traditional ‘I heart NY’, the t-shirt read ‘I heart IM!’ with a cartoony drawing of the Iron Man helmet in place of the dot on the bottom of the exclamation point.

Tony held her at arms length and took in the t-shirt, her long, tanned legs, and the wet waves of her hair. And he smiled.

“You do, princess. You really do.”