#letting me sit in 90+ degrees thinking someone was on the way to fix it when like… my mom is epileptic and heat does induce her seizures

[dollwrites]

death to all landlords ong

[look-at-the-soul]

Look at the soul- Part 1 Chances

Cillian Murphy x OC

Series Master List

💫 Finally it’s here! 🙌🏻 first part of this new series 🥰 if you just joined the ride, this will be shorter than “The Photoshoot” and completely different.

💠 Just want to let you know the dialogue you will find in italics it’s Cillian reading the script of the play.

Suggested song: Chances by Backstreet Boys (90’s girl not sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️) no, but really The video and lyrics are beautiful and definitely fits this part ♥️ remember the set list is open and your suggestions are always welcome! 💛 the lyrics are in the first part of the story in italics, the reading script also in italics towards the end

Warning: Beard alert! Why do I LOVE it so much?

There was a woman walking in front of her, carrying a baby in her arms, the kid threw his toy to the floor between the seats.

“Excuse me, this is yours.” She called for the woman offering the stuffed giraffe with a smile.

“Oh! Thank you… I didn’t see him and if this gets lost, it would be another war.” She answered walking to the back of the bus.

A man stood up suddenly from his seat right before she could keep looking of an empty spot. In his hurry, he didn’t realize his wallet came off from his pocket.

“Sir.” She called for him. “Your wallet.” Sharing an awkward look, she chuckled quietly thinking that today it might be one of those days where people keep throwing or forgetting things that really mattered.

The man thanked him nodding his head and rushed back to get off the bus. Taking advantage of the recent free seat, she took it without hesitation and started to put the things she was carrying in her hands in her bag. As she was detangling her earphones from the keys to her flat, the book she had in her lap fell as the bus took a sharp turn and slipped through the hall. Before she could get up to go for it, someone else did.

What if I'd never run into you?

“Got it.” Said a man who was sitting a couple of rows behind her in the opposite side. But as he straightened, she found herself looking at the most beautiful eyes, sky blue accompanied by a warm smile. There was a pinch of sadness mixed with a sparkle in his eyes. A prominent and disheveled beard in reddish tones interleaved with some white hairs, his voice was deep and captivating. What if you'd never smiled at me? What if I hadn't noticed you too? And you'd never showed up where I happened to be

“Thank you.” She returned the smile.

What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?

“You’re welcome.” He then pointed at the book he just returned. “It must be really interesting if you’re already half way.”

what are the odds? What's a guy like me doing in a place like this? I could have just walked by, who would've thought?

Touching the edge of the bookmark, she answered: “it’s one of those you can’t just put down.”

“I’ll buy it later.” Clearing his throat, he couldn’t stop himself of pointing at the seat next to her. “Do you mind if I join you?” She shook her head, why was a stranger inspiring her so much calmness? “I guess you aren’t a local.”

His eye caught the printed map with notes she was holding.

“No, I arrived last week and it’s a bit confusing.”

“Holidays? Or are you visiting someone? Sorry you don’t have to answer.”

Like two in a million, like once in a life What are the chances?

“It’s alright, I’m here to start studying my master.” He then asked more about that. “It’s a Master Degree in Business and Management.”

“Really? Where?”

“American College Dublin?”

“Ah, that’s really good.” Cillian’s eyes were fixed in her features, he didn’t pretend to stare at her in a creepy way, but the way her green eyes sparkled every time she smiled made him almost forget to follow the conversation.

“That’s what most people have told me, I just wanted to get to know the area before starting but I took the wrong bus and lost a lot of time coming back to take the right one.” She chuckled for getting so easily distracted.

“It’s alright, if you had taken the right route from the beginning, that kid would’ve been left without his toy and the man without his wallet.” Raising his eyebrows, he gave her another smile. “…your book wouldn’t have fallen and we wouldn’t be talking right now.”

“Chain of favors.” She whispered.

“Beg your pardon?”

“It’s called chain of favors… someone helped me to take the right bus, I gave back the toy and wallet, if they do the same to someone else, and those people repeat the action…”

“I get it.”

Listening to her to talk like that made him forget about the darkness where he had been. He was taking mental photographs of her gaze, she didn’t seem to be altered by his presence or to be near him, on the contrary, she seemed to be very comfortable.

“I’m sorry, how rude… I’m Cillian.” He offered his hand to her.

“Marianne.”

“Listen, this might sound a little strange, and sorry for my boldness, but I need to ask you if you would be interested to be in a stage play, it’s j-just that you’re exactly as the character is described in every way and the play had been delayed for years because we never found the right girl after hundreds auditions… Until now.”

What if I hadn't asked for your name? And time hadn't stopped when you said it to me? Of all of the plans that I could've made Of all of the nights that I couldn't sleep

She blinked a couple of times to make sure she was listening correctly.

“Theater?” She repeated letting out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know anything about theater. Just of the couple of times I went to a play.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He didn’t want to look desperate. But he was. “We can work that out.”

“What’s the play about?”

“Are you busy right now? We could go to the writer’s office and show you the script.”

“Just like that? No appointment? No audition?”

Cillian tilted his head to the side trying to suppress a smirk. “I’m sure the role is yours.”

“Well, I was about to start looking for a part time job so I won’t run out of my savings.”

“We pay the auditions in 100€.” He lied. “So? Are you interested?”

Shrugging, she thought she didn’t have anything to lose. “Why not?”

“Enda’s going to pass out when he sees you.” But before she could ask who this Enda was, Cillian dialed a number on his phone. “I need to see you, it’s urgent I’ve a surprise for you.” He seemed genuinely excited. “I don’t f-care what you’re doing, just meet me at your office, please… I found Adria.”

Looking at her by the corner of his eye, he couldn’t stop smiling.

“No, I’m not kidding.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “I know you’ve been through endless auditions and it’s always the same, but this time is real.”

It was impossible to hide his eagerness, for the very first time in a long time he was smiling.

Was this the sign he was looking for?

“You’ve my word, I bet you 100€ she’s the one… Hurry up.”

Ending the call, he moved his attention back to her.

“You seem to be convinced that I am what they are looking for.”

Moving his hands, he turned in his seat to her. “Just wait until you read the script.”

A couple of stops later, Cillian told her to follow him, walking a couple of blocks straight and one to the left and he finally stopped on his tracks to point at beige building with the glass doors.

“No, wait.”

He stopped abruptly and looked at her.

“I can’t do this, I don’t have an Irish accent, I don’t act, nei-”

“The accent is the last of my worries, you can practice that and make it better with time… it’s as if you were imitating someone.” He explained while she took a step back. Her face was full of panic. “Give the script a shot if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it.”

Confusion was written all over her face.

“But you sai-”

“You don’t have to pretend anything, just read a couple of lines, check the story, get to know the main character. One chance… that’s all I ask.” Slowly, he took her by the arm to guide her through the lobby without really noticing, it was almost as if he had put a spell on her with his velvet voice about the beauty of theater and to be someone else on stage, to bring to life a character.

Cillian didn’t need to register himself there, he walked her to Enda’s office on the second floor.

“Do you want water? Tea? Something stronger?”

“Water, please.” She looked around realized all the warnings her mother had told her about disappeared when he started talking.

A couple of minutes later, along with the glass of water, he also gave her a copy of the script. He apparently had the key to open any door there because the assistants only smiled to him and said yes to anything he asked.

Her fingers trembled when she touched the folder.

Look at the soul by Enda Walsh

“What do you think?” Cillian asked after giving her a couple of minutes to read part of the script.

“She’s a fascinating woman.” Marianne admitted breathless. “The way she takes anything life throws at her and somehow she turns it into something positive. And she is still looking for a way to help these women?”

“Do you realize of the similitudes between you and the character?”

She nodded. “Impressive, I got shivers.” She admitted moving to the next page.

“I hope you understand now why I insisted that way.” He smiled leaning on the wall in front of her.

“Tell me what to do.”

A woman brought a vanity mirror, medium size and placed it in front of her.

“Forget of every prejudice, everything you think you know about the story.” Cillian instructed her to go to the beginning. “You know what? Skip to page 12, that’s the part you’ll do. Close your eyes for a moment and follow my voice.”

Clearing his throat, he left his cup of coffee on the table and in one hand held the script while he was using the other to give more emphasis to his words.

Adria dragged her gaze to find her reflection in the mirror.

Marianne opened her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat when she found herself.

She couldn’t recognize the woman standing in front of her, the sparkle in her eyes was overshadowed by sadness and disappointment. Every single people in which she trusted had failed her. Every scar in her soul wasn’t made by her enemies, but by the closest people to her. How had she reached this point in her life? She wondered.

Cillian kept reading pacing around the room. His voice was soft, like velvet.

Marianne lifted a hand to touch the woman in the mirror.

She was about to lose everything, her house, the leftovers of her family. She ran out of her savings. She was alone, sad, hungry. Almost reached the point to sell her body for some coins to be able to eat something… but in the last minute she regretted it and managed to scape from there. There had to be another way. She touched the evidence that the fight left in her arms, the reminder of how close she was to lose her dignity.

Marianne ran her fingertips to the inside of her left arm. Imagining the marks on her skin.

The only thing she was asking for was a little peace. A truce. Something to soothe the pain. The last candle she owned, lighted her small room, it was so close to extinguish. She was also running out of time to be able to do something.

Looking around, she tried to find something to sell. If only she still own something valuable… an old wooden trunk where she kept the very few clothes she still had, she wouldn’t get a lot for it, the pocket watch her father gave her and which was the most important object she owned both economically and for its meaning was already gone, it allowed her to get food for a couple of weeks… maybe she could get some money for the tea set.

But who was she trying to fool? Truth is she didn’t have anything left to give to get something, nobody would hire her since she didn’t have a backup.

Time kept running and she didn’t have any more ideas.

There was nothing left of the strong woman she used to be, the one who took charge of the family business, the one who once she walked in any place, turned all heads towards her direction, the same that rejected dozens of men when she realized they weren’t enough.

If only she had taken the chance when it knocked on her door, if back then she had the courage to fight for him, at least she wouldn’t be alone. But no, she had pushed him away because she was scared that he would hurt her like the rest of the people.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. Followed by another one.

Marianne felt as her eyes filled with tears until the point where she couldn’t stop them. Her lower lip trembled and a gasp escaped from her throat.

She was lost. Unarmed.

Cillian looked at her briefly.

She stood up.

Marianne got up.

And unleashed all of her fury against the mirror.

Marianne took the vanity mirror and smashed it against the table.

Breaking it immediately into a million pieces.

Turning her hands around, she found small threads of blood running down between her fingers. She was trembling.

“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Enda murmured from the door.

“Fuck, are you alright?” Cillian rushed to move her away from the table. “Bring me the first aid kit.” He snapped his fingers. Apart from the blood in her palms there didn’t seem to be any other injury, but the sobs continued. “I didn’t think you would actually break it. Are you alright? Talk to me.” He was really worried.

“Keep reading.” Marianne asked. She wasn’t even in pain from the cuts. Cillian shared a look with Enda who agreed to continue the reading.

Marianne took the handkerchief they offered her and pressed between her hands.

Changing her clothes, she took her favorite dress, the one that made her look spectacular. She used one of the biggest broken pieces of mirror to pin her hair, she then used the leftovers of her kohl and ointment to darken her eyelashes. And on her lips, she used a small amount of the lipstick her mother gave her for her birthday.

Marianne took from her purse the compact mirror and her lipstick.

She walked to the closest pub, it was just a couple of blocks away and before getting in, she allowed to be the woman she was before, powerful, strong, unstoppable, that wasn’t afraid of anything and anyone.

She was willing to use the only thing life couldn’t take away from her and she could use as she pleased; her beauty.

Her charming could seduce the man she wanted from there, she wouldn’t allow them to touch her body under any circumstance. She wouldn’t turn into a whore. But with the presents she could get from them, she could pay her debt and help those women who weren’t lucky like her, the ones who had to sell themselves for some food, she would offer them roof and the chance to leave that life.

Once she walked in, both men and women stopped what they were doing to look at her. She moved as if she owned the place, not looking at anybody directly. She could feel every gaze in her.

Getting rid of her coat and before it hit the ground, one of the waiter rushed to catch it.

Marianne sat at the other side of the table. She dragged her eyes through the room until she came across with a man wearing glasses who was leaning against the wall and watched her intensely. Without blinking, she tilted her head to the side, offered a smile and winked at him. Enda had to cover his mouth with his hands to suppress a loud scream.

Her presence was undeniable. Who would the first one to approach her? Those women who joined their husbands immediately had to made them a sign to stop staring at her. Those who were alone tried in vain to get her attention.

Fitz got up from his seat. He was the first one of his family to have a divorce and every time he saw Adria, he tried to convince her to marry him, over and over. He was convinced that if he kept trying she would say yes one day.

“I have something for you gorgeous.” From his jacket he took a velvet box, opening it, he showed Adria the most incredible pair of emerald earrings flanked by two smaller diamonds. “So they can match your eyes.” He told her, trying to conquer her.

Adria refused to accept them, even though she had to admit they were beautiful. But he insisted.

“Hopefully one day you will also accept my invitation?”

“One of these days Fitz.” She answered without a glimpse of truth in her words.

Marianne read from the scrip dragging her words.

Cillian was distracted by her voice for a second, but soon he started to read again.

He skipped the dialogue Adria had with the waitress, where she accepts the deal Leigh offered her when she noticed the way men tried to win their way to her heart; through jewelry, she suggested she could sell them and give Adria the money she got from it.

She wasn’t interested in the jewelry they offered her in exchange of her heart, accepting Leigh’s suggestion would allow her to help the prostitutes that some men hurt and left in a bad condition.

Walking back to the high bar, she winked at the barman..

Cillian walked towards Marianne and took the seat next to her raisin his cup of coffee.

She looked at him and gave him a smile.

Standing up, she let her fingers ran across his back, from one shoulder to the other and then walked towards the exit. But before leaving the place she looked back over her shoulder and without looking at someone in particular…

She was unstoppable… and she took anything she wanted with a smile.

Marianne smiled.

“Bravo! Bravo!” Enda was beyond excited. He was practically drooling.

Cillian had rushed out of the office to get the first aid kit.

“What do I have to do so you can accept to be Adria?” Enda asked in shock.

***

Next part

A/N: Please remember your comments mean absolutely everything to me! I’d love to hear what you think. And kids don’t talk to strangers in the bus unless that’s Cillian of course 😉

Tag list:

@lyarr24 @lespendy @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @onlydeadcells @datewithgianni @cutecurly-hair @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @the-forest-witchh @kettlechips3 @kaitebugg03 @thenattitude @babaohhhriley @lovemissyhoneybee @peakypoet @midnightmagpiemama @heidimoreton @stevie75 @gypsy-girl-08 @kittycatcait219 @shelbydelrey @cillmequick @lonelyweeb0044 (can’t tag)

[absolutepokemontrash]

You don't need to write this if you dont want too because it's up to you but this is something wholsome

WHAT IF L!MC M!M & BBY A!MC BECOME BABIES AND THERE EVEONES HAS TO CARE FOR THEM,

I apologize for having such horrible writing and grammer. I never payed attention in school, nor could I afford to pay attention 👉😎👉

Bro I feel you on the not paying attention in school thing. Fear not, dearest asker, ask for demon babies, and since I am a merciful writer, you shall receive.

Oh Shit, Half-Demon Babies are Running Amok Send Diapers and Help-

Mini summary for the casual reader, L!MC is Lucifer’s half demon child who got summoned into the Devildom to be one of the human exchange students, M!MC is Mammon’s half demon kid, and A!MC is Asmo’s. Let’s get to the fic!

Ah, what a relaxing day... Lucifer was sitting back in his desk chair, enjoying a nice glass of Demonus and listening to one of his favourite cursed vinyls. He had done a damn good job on his work earlier and Diavolo had insisted there was no more work to be done and he could have the weekend all to himself.

Of course, his brothers were still a factor that could have ruined his me-time... on any other weekend! Satan had just gotten a new encyclopedia to read, so he wouldn’t be causing any trouble, Beel and Belphie were going to take that Devildom food tour, Mammon and M!MC were planning on spending the entire weekend shopping, Asmo and A!MC were going up to the human world on Saturday and staying until Sunday, and Levi... He got a sudden burst of inspiration for his Animal Crossing Island and most likely wouldn’t be leaving his room for the next month. Lastly, L!MC wouldn’t be causing any problems, his child would probably spend their time with him rambling about musicals or anime they had seen, and Lucifer found their intense interest very adorable.

Ah... peace and quiet...

...

...why did Lucifer hear crying?

There, standing in the entrance hall of the House of Lamentation, was Solomon, holding three screaming babies.

What, and I cannot stress this enough, THE HELL?!

“Ah, Lucifer,” Solomon attempted to wave hello, but needing to continue to bounce one of the babies on his hip kind of hindered the gesture, not that Lucifer wanted a wave at that moment. “I’m sure you have questions.”

After everyone had gathered into the living room, Solomon explained how a spell gone awry had hit L!MC, M!MC, and A!MC with the effect of turning the three into the screaming infants that stood (or... awkwardly sprawled out) in front of them.

On the bright side, the spell only had a timespan of roughly two days, so they wouldn’t be stuck like that forever.

Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes (save for the babies, who were still either crying or incoherently babbling) as they processed that information. Lucifer, ever the flawless older brother and leader, stood up and clapped his hands together once.

“Alright then, everyone cancel your weekend plans, we need to deal with this.”

Lucifer’s dearest little brothers all whined in protest, Satan in particular. “They’re not our kids, why do Belphie, Beel, Levi, and I need to cancel our plans?!”

“Satan,” Lucifer said sternly. “You don’t remember this, but it took six people to take care of one of you. The kids may only be half demons but there are three of them. We need all hands on deck. Besides, if you all want someone to blame, blame Solomon.”

Everyone turned and levelled their practically murderous glared at the sorcerer, who suddenly pulled baby A!MC into his lap and began to rock them back and forth.

“I have never felt more unsafe.” Solomon laughed nervously. “But you wouldn’t kill me while I’m holding my not-child would you?”

Asmo stomped over and snatched A!MC away from Solomon. “I can’t believe you- ACK! A!MC! Stop drooling!”

A!MC had a long trail of drool coming out of their mouth which caused Asmo to shriek and hold A!MC at arms length away. “Stop that! That’s gross, A!MC, you know better.”

The adorable baby continued to babble and drool.

Mammon picked up M!MC, who almost immediately stopped crying upon seeing Mammon’s watch, they began making grab hands at it. “Ah, ya want the watch?”

M!MC squealed in delight as Mammon dangled the watch above them, Mammon was delighted that his little brat still had their expensive taste, even as a baby. “Hey, look at me! I’m doin’ pretty good! Suck it, Asmo!”

As Asmo and Mammon bickered, Lucifer took the time to look at L!MC, they pulled at Lucifer’s tie and hummed to themselves. They were mind numbingly cute despite the screeching they were doing earlier. The sight tugged at the cold spot where Lucifer’s heart should have been, he had missed this part of his child’s life... maybe just that weekend he’d get a chance to-

“Solomon where do you think you’re going?” Lucifer was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed the shifty bastard trying to make his escape. “You’re staying to help manage this nonsense.”

—————

A!MC may have been an absolute ray of sunshine normally, but as a baby, they definitely lived up to the term demon-spawn.

A!MC would scream, cry and pitch a fit if they didn’t get what they wanted immediately, not that they had any way of articulating what they wanted because they were a god damn baby! Asmo and Solomon were at the point where they were just holding stuff out to A!MC to see if it would make them stop crying.

“Come on butterfly, don’t you like this... antique perfume bottle?” Asmo asked, A!MC took one look at it, then burst into flames and started wailing again. “For the love of my father WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

Now there were two sobbing messes in the room, and one was on fire. Solomon quickly magically took care of A!MC’s little fire problem (the baby was fiiiiiiine, demon babies light themselves on fire all the time!), picked A!MC up, sat down on Asmo’s bed, and snapped his fingers. Tiny balls of light gently floated into the air around the three, Asmo looked up from his pity party upon hearing A!MC stop their crying.

“See, you still like my magic, even as a baby, right A!MC?” Solomon asked, A!MC looked around in silent wonder, trying to reach up and touch the lights.

“Oh Solomon, this almost makes me forgive you for screwing up my weekend plans...” Asmo sighed in relief, he sat next to Solomon and pulled A!MC into his lap. “Not very colourful though, is it? Let me fix that.”

Asmo smiled as his own magic added streaks of colour, it was like their very own private showing of the northern lights. A!MC had on one of those goofy baby smiles that can make even the grumpiest person smile back.

Solomon and Asmo shaped some of the lights into shapes and animals, Asmo let a pink butterfly land on A!MC’s nose, much to their adorable delight.

“And that one’s a bird, and that one’s a giraffe,”

“That’s an alpaca.”

“Sorry, an alpaca with a weirdly long neck, oh! And a sheep!” Asmo looked down at his lap where A!MC sat and tickled their sides. “Everyone likes sheep!”

He then quickly shaped a ball of light into a scorpion and made it scuttle into A!MC’s lap. “But I have to say, scorpions are the best.”

The fifth born sighed in contentment as their sweet little hellspawn continued to watch the magic show. Never in his life did Asmodeus ever think he’d be this happy holding a baby, usually babies were things he thought should be handled with hazmat suits, but not at that moment. His little butterfly truly did have him wrapped around their finger.

“Asmo, hey, Asmo,” Asmo looked over at Solomon, who had a glowing triangle over one of his eyes. “Would you like to join my secret society?”

“Solomon, you are ruining the moment.”

——————

“C’mon kiddo! Eat your damn food!” Mammon once again tried to shove the spoon into his kid’s mouth with the same result as the 50 previous attempts.

“YUCKY!” M!MC shouted and slapped the spoon away.

“Here,” Beel took the spoon from Mammon. “Maybe it’s yucky like they said.”

Beel ate what was on the spoon, then smiled brightly. “You can really taste the mango!”

“See bud..? Beel likes it.” Mammon gestured at Beel, who was eating the entire jar of baby food as Belphie watched in amusement. He was such an asset to the team. “Beel! They need to eat!”

“Fine, let me try.” Belphie grabbed another spoon, and waved it in M!MC’s face. “Here comes the airplane... whoosh... whoosh...”

M!MC didn’t budge, Belphie knitted his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, be that way.”

Levi pushed open the door to the kitchen, and upon seeing the scene before him, immediately turned and tried to leave. “Nope! Food isn’t worth getting spit up all over me-”

Mammon lunged forward, grabbed the back of Levi’s jacket and practically yanked him into the kitchen, he slapped a spoon into his hand and smiled. “C’mon, do a favour for your super great big brother!”

The third born looked at M!MC, who defiantly stared back at him, the baby had the upper hand and the little brat knew it. Babies were so much cuter in anime...

Levi nervously stepped forward and held out the spoon like a weapon. “O-okay M-M-M!MC... you need to eat your food... pls... pls eat.”

M!MC said nothing, they only did what most babies did.

...

They spun their head 90 degrees until the back of their head was all Levi could see.

Everyone in the kitchen stood in complete silence, until Mammon jumped a foot in the air and started screaming bloody murder. “MY BABY!”

He dove forward and scooped M!MC up in his arms, the baby, obviously freaked out by the sudden loud noise, had begun to cry.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! Uh... uh...” Mammon looked around frantically. “Hush little baby don’t say a word... papas gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring... and if that diamond ring is brass, butitwon’tbebecauseyouroldmanwouldn’tgetcheatedlikethat-”

M!MC spun their head back to its correct position, but their crying sounds were now several octaves lower... It sounded like if someone put a baby in the Darth Vader mask but without the weird breathing sounds...

Mammon looked to Belphie. “I’m blankin’ on nursery rhymes! Ya hafta know some kid songs!”

Belphie, after being put on the spot, suddenly forgot every single nursery rhyme and lullaby any of his brothers had ever sung to him. Oh! A song popped into his head! He could sing that!

“Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave her mother forty whacks, when she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty one-”

“Not that one!” Mammon squeaked, holding M!MC closer to him. M!MC’s voice had returned to normal, the next problem is that they were only speaking in infernal. “Somethin’ else!”

“There was an old lady who swallowed a fly,” Beel began to sing. “I don’t know why she swallowed that fly... I forgot the rest of the song...”

“Dammit... Leviiiiii!” Mammon wheezed, desperately trying to calm the angrily growling M!MC. “Sing! Sing anything!”

“A-anything?” Only one song came to mind. “Uh um... With the doors of heaven and Hell barred, there is no other but the guard, Master of the Hellish Yard...”

Mammon lit up and nodded like Levi had just offered him a million Grimm. “Aw hell yeah! This song!”

He handed M!MC to Beel and began to dance and sing next to Levi, who had really gotten into the song as well!

“With those sins that you've committed, If you pay you'll be acquitted, and your crimes all permitted,” the two paused for dramatic effect before both belting out the best line in the song.

“ONLY ONES WITH CASH DO WELL, WELL AT LEAST IN HELL!”

As Levi and Mammon continued to sing, M!MC became so entranced by the dance, that they stopped their demonic babbling and just watched the second and third born dance and sing the English cover of an old vocaloid song. Belphie and Beel made brief confused eye contact to make sure the other twin was seeing the same thing.

The duo finished the song and took a bow, Beel lightly tapped M!MC’s chubby baby hands together to make it look like they were clapping. It was enough for Mammon and Levi.

“Thank you, thank you,” Mammon said. “We’ll be here forever, next show ain’t free.”

“We should sing The Tailor on Enbizaka next!”

“Levi! No! That song is like... seven minutes long!”

“Hey, morons,” Belphie stuck his thumb at M!MC. “They still haven’t eaten.”

Mammon’s triumphant expression dropped right to the floor. “Ah fuck...”

——————

“Satan, where’s L!MC-” Lucifer looked up at the ceiling of Satan’s room and his jaw dropped. “WHAT ARE THEY DOING UP THERE?!”

“I can’t get them down!” Satan hissed back.

L!MC. L!MC the BABY. They were on the ceiling. They were sitting upside down on the ceiling like it was an average Friday. Lucifer was too old for this shit...

“L!MC.” Lucifer held out his arms, L!MC squinted at him, that’s when Lucifer remembered L!MC was practically blind without their glasses. “L!MC, it’s your father, come here.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried calling them down like that?!” Satan spat as he quickly ran a hand through his hair.

Lucifer shot a glare at Satan, then Lucifer heard something that nearly made his (lack of) heart stop. Oh no- L!MC was yawning-

L!MC yawned and suddenly detached from the ceiling. Lucifer and Satan both dove forward to catch L!MC, which culminated in one of Satan’s piles of books falling down, but with L!MC safe and sound.

“Damn it.” Satan grumbled as Lucifer shifted to properly hold L!MC. “This is going to take forever to clean...”

“That was clean?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow as L!MC began to fuss slightly.

Satan growled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was clean thank you very much. I knew exactly where everything was.”

The cat that unofficially ruled the House of Lamentation pranced into Satan’s room like it didn’t have a care in the world, it began to bat at one of the loose papers that had been scattered around the floor. Detective Toe Beans, you’re an esteemed detective, and technically RAD’s mascot, stop that!

Satan scooped up the cat and began to put the books back in the pile, when Lucifer noticed a familiar, beat-up old book lying near the bottom of the pile.

“Ah, I remember this book,” Lucifer leaned down and picked it up, showing the cover to L!MC, who didn’t seem very interested and continued petting the fur part of Lucifer’s jacket. “It’s good for a bedtime story, right L!MC?”

Lucifer tucked the book under his arm and turned to leave when Satan practically shot upwards. “If you think you can just take that out of my room, you’re completely delusional.”

“Are you seriously going to whine about getting a bedtime story for L!MC?”

“CAT!” L!MC looked over Lucifer’s shoulder and reached for Detective Toe Beans. “CAT!”

“Yes L!MC, cat.” Lucifer whispered to them, then turned back to Satan. “And if I’m remembering correctly, I used to read this to you. Do you really want to deprive poor L!MC of bedtime stories from me?”

“Pff... deprive...” Satan rolled his eyes and huffed. “I’d be saving them. You were the only one who never did any voices for the characters, I was bored to sleep.”

Satan walked forward and swiped the book from Lucifer. “If anyone’s reading L!MC a bedtime story, it should be me. I’m twice the storyteller you’ll ever be.”

Lucifer scoffed. “Ridiculous. We’ll both read L!MC a story and they can tell us who did best when they get back to normal.”

“Fine by me.”

The three (four if you count Bean) were soon seated on the couch in Lucifer’s room. Lucifer took the first story.

Satan listened along and absentmindedly pet Bean, hearing a story he had heard over and over again had managed to bring back memories of a time where he had significantly less control over his wrath. Every night he’d demand a bedtime story or he’d throw a tantrum unlike anything the Devildom had ever seen.

The eldest was always there to swoop in and read Satan a story whenever the little ball of seething rage looked ready to kill the unfortunate brother who told him it was bedtime.

It had gotten to the point that Satan could recite most of the stories in the book completely by heart. He chuckled under his breath as he remembered the time he matter of factly told Lucifer that he’d be reading him the bedtime story that night and proceeded to pretend to read the story of The Hydra and the Pufferfish. He hadn’t actually learned to read, much to Lucifer’s dismay, Satan just memorized what to say and when to turn the pages.

Though, it was apparently impressive enough at the time to warrant a head pat from Lucifer.

The fourth born leaned closer to Lucifer to get a better look at the book’s illustrations. They were always slightly off and strange looking, much like the pictures in the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark book that L!MC had given Satan for his birthday.

Lucifer abruptly stopped reading.

“Why’d you stop?” Satan looked up at Lucifer, then over at L!MC. Aw... Satan didn’t even get a chance to read...

“Our audience has fallen asleep.” Lucifer stifled a yawn and prepared to close the book, Satan quickly shoved his hand on the page to stop him.

“You started reading,” Satan looked away and grumbled. “So at least finish the story...”

Lucifer smirked and opened the book back up. “If you insist, Satan.”

————————

Yayyyyy! Babies! I’m sure the three get back to normal by Monday... hopefully...

Here’s a link to the song Levi and Mammon are singing!

I hope you all enjoyed! As of the time I’m posting this, the next set of Lessons 1-5 Headcanons will be out tomorrow at 8:30 pm EST.

[adorethedistance]

Party Hard - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: drinking, partying, intoxication, non sexual stripping, swearing probably, 

Words: 6343 (which, if you know me, is a FUCK ton)

Summary: Going from tipsy to full on drunk is a terrible idea, but especially when you’ve got a secret to hide that could mean the difference between preserving and ruining your relationship with your best friend.

A/N: A couple items before we get started: I think I’m back on my bullshit? I mean I wrote this fic and it’s three times the length of my normal fics. Also I wrote this headassery as a literal self insert me(ace) x someone and so there are a couple flaws here and there that make this something I’m not 100% proud of. Owen picks the reader up a few times and I’m aware this kind of thing can really effect someone’s experience with this fic so I do apologize for the lack of inclusivity in regards to body type/ableism. I’m falling really behind on school work because I just can’t find the motivation which either means y’all will be seeing a lot more of me soon or absolutely nothing at all. Not sure which yet.

“You’ve got it so bad.” Charlie rests his left arm on his best friend’s shoulder, tipping back the half-full angry orchard bottle he’d been nursing for the better half of an hour. Owen’s stare is immediately broken and he crosses his arms defensively.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Turning to meet his friend’s smug stare, Owen shoots Charlie a glare of annoyance before returning his attention to the girl on the dance floor. Surrounded by a gaggle of her closest friends, Y/n is dancing and singing her heart out to Fergalicious with Chelsea, Leila, Savannah, and Carolynn. The bunch of them share in sporadic laughs as they exchange ridiculous dance moves just to add to the fleeting moment’s laughter. An assortment of screeches and squawks blend together as they all prepare to sing the rap section of the song. Observing the level of excitement the girls have over the verse, Owen can’t help but laugh at the spectacle.

“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Charlie inquires between sips of his cold drink.

“What?”

“Y/n. Why have you not asked her out.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah. Because you haven’t asked her out.” Owen rolls his eyes before turning 90 degrees to fully face the smug guitarist. He turns about-face to prove a point, but another symphony of squeals at the next song choice drags his attention back to his other best friend on the dance floor. “You’re so whipped.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! Look, if you don’t ask her out tonight, I will.”

“You’re not even into her,” Owen protests unceremoniously. Setting the molasses colored bottle on the counter next to Owen, Charlie steps back and copies his position of crossed arms and a relaxed stance.

“You’re right, I’m not. But you are, and if that’s what it takes to light the fire under your ass then I’ll do it.”

“She wouldn’t say yes.”

“Are you sure? I mean, the only way to know for sure is to ask.” And with that, Charlie is off, speeding toward Y/n at a pace that launches Owen into an impulsive chase. To prevent his friend from doing something stupid, Owen shoves him in the opposite direction from the group of girls on the dance floor. What he hadn’t anticipated was Charlie moving so far so fast. Owen has longer legs, he’s supposed to be the faster one, not Charlie. That’s why he hadn’t anticipated turning away from his musical friend to come face to face with a very flushed Y/n. Her lip-gloss coated lips are parted as she catches her breath from all the dancing. They look so soft and inviting that Owen can’t help but stare, and doesn’t realize the several looks of confusion among the girls around him.

“Everything okay, Owen?” Snapping out of his hyper focused stare, Owen blinks a few times, trying to generate a reason for coming over.

“You’ve been dancing for a while.”

“...Yeah?”

“Let me fix you a drink?” His statement comes out as more of a question but the breathless girl agrees nonetheless. Owen extends his hand to her which she gladly accepts but not without a quick word to her friends.

“I’ll be right back, I’m getting a drink.”

Her friends aren’t stupid, quite the opposite actually. And they see right through Owen’s facade of fixing her a drink because she’d been ‘dancing a while’. Please. As if they didn’t know a desperate attempt at flirting when they saw it.

The pounding music from the backyard begins to fade and muffle once the pair step into the Shada’s beautiful kitchen space. Owen leads her to the kitchen island where he has her take a seat on one of the barstools in front of the high countertop. Stepping around the fixture, Owen busies himself with whipping up a drink for Y/n at the makeshift bar on the island. He doesn’t even have to ask what it is she wants. Ice, pink whitney, club soda, and a splash of lime juice mixed together in a red solo cup Owen had considerately written her name on before going all mixologist-mode.

“Your usual.”

“Thank you, sir. You know, I’ve only had a handful of barbecue chips since I got here, and I’m already tipsy, so this actually might get me completely drunk.” Taking a sip, Y/n hums out of pleasure, “Why do you make my favorite drink better than I make my favorite drink?”

“So you have a reason to keep me around.” At the sound of Y/n’s laugh, Owen cracks a smile in time with his favorite sound in the world. The blonde haired man leans forward to rest his weight on his left forearm. He stares at her with adoration seeping from his gaze, before lifting his own cup to drink with her.

“What is that?” she asks, sitting up taller to try and see into Owen’s cup over the island.

“Jack Daniels.”

“I want some.”

“No,” Owen answers swiftly albeit softly. Y/n, however, is not feeling as conciliatory.

“No?”

“Have you ever tried whiskey before?”

“Well, no-”

“You’re drinking a fruit flavored cocktail that’s like 30% nonalcoholic. A sip of this would knock you off your little ass.” Y/n frowns at his words and employs a fake pout of anger to guilt her now laughing friend. Despite her smile, she whines,

“You suck.” Owen merely shrugs unapologetically before sipping and wincing at his drink of choice. “So… how did your date go- with Amy?” And there it is. The question that’s been at the forefront of Y/n’s mind for the last 24 hours.

Owen met this girl Amy at a more professional house party type of event and they hit it off right away. They spent the night invested in conversation, sharing in a cacophony of laughter. Y/n had no right to be upset, but she was. Amy was drop dead gorgeous in that Mini length red, velvet dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her figure was snatched to the gods, and she was about 5’3”; a seemingly irrelevant thing to notice, but Y/n knew that was the height Owen loved in a partner. At least, based on all his previous flings. And not to mention, her beautiful golden blonde hair that extended all the way down her toned back. Amy was perfect to all standards including that of any straight man with eyes and undoubtedly Owen’s. They spent the entire night together, Y/n long forgotten despite having been Owen’s plus one.

Y/n on the other hand didn’t exactly view herself as the drop-dead gorgeous supermodel type. Seeing how Owen took an interest in her at that event, it was no wonder Y/n was jealous. In fact, she had been so jealous that she allowed their flirting to ruin her entire evening.

She had been invited platonically as Owen’s guest, but Owen didn’t feel guilty about leaving her alone once he saw Charlie was by her side the whole night. Little did he know Charlie was only there for her because Owen wasn’t. It was pity company. Pity company that she was grateful to have as she cried into a few gin and tonics. Y/n avoided telling Charlie about her feelings for the adorable drummer, but with the way events transpired, he had figured out what it was that had upset her.

Charlie so badly wanted to give Owen the guilt trip of a lifetime. And he did once he and Owen were alone, heading home in Charlie’s orange hatchback car. He did so by telling Owen about how his best friend had spent the entire evening crying into gin and tonics. ‘Y/n doesn’t even like gin and tonic’ was all Owen could come up with.

When he inquired about why his best friend was crying, Charlie said he didn’t know, but it may have had something to do with the fact that the person who invited her spent the whole night ignoring her; he left it at that, leaving Owen to connect the dots, sort of. Owen had come to the realization that Y/n must have been crying over him, but why? Unable to comprehend a reason, he pushed the situation to the back of his mind. So far back that when Amy texted him that same night, he immediately responded and eventually set up a date for them to get dinner alone Friday evening.

The date was fine. Objectively there was nothing wrong with it. But every time Amy took a sip of the gin and tonic she had ordered, he couldn’t help being reminded of Y/n that night. It took Owen a solid thirty minutes to finally conclude that maybe Y/n was... jealous? Of what? Of Amy? Quickly reviewing a long list of qualities, identical to the one that Y/n had thoroughly checked through when she first saw the blonde, Owen realized she was indeed jealous of Amy. But why? What did Amy have that Y/n didn’t?

Oh.

His initial conclusion in the car with Charlie had to be right. Y/n was crying over him, and seemingly jealous of Amy, all because Amy had his attention. Why was that a problem?

Oh… no. No, Y/n does not have feelings for him. Y/n is... well, Y/n. His best friend, his partner in crime, his confidant, there’s no way she’s in love with him. There’s a different reason as to why she’d been crying into drinks she didn’t like. And that different reason is why her text replies have been short and cold when he had asked for date night conversation pointers. And that different reason is why her smile kept faltering on FaceTime when he was asking for fashion advice for his date.

Y/n is not in love with her best friend.

Owen had spent the past year pushing down his feelings for the girl that threatened to bubble over the top. If Y/n was truly into him, he would’ve acted on them. But she isn’t, so he didn’t. At least, that’s what Owen told himself…

“It was alright,” he offers lamely as a reply to her inquiry. Y/n simply nods and takes another swig of her drink to dull the ache in the center of her chest.

“Just alright?”

“Okay, it was better than alright. She was great.” There’s a hole burning in the center of her heart, and against her better judgment, she expands the deficit by asking for more information.

“What does that mean- that she was ‘great’?”

“You know…” Owen trails off in search of the right words, some words, any words, but nothing comes to him. To sell her nonchalant demeanor, the hopelessly devoted girl is staring down into her cup as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room. She didn’t expect Owen’s eyes to be boring into hers when she looked back up, so she quickly musters a polite smile. Maybe the average onlooker couldn’t tell it was fake, but Owen knows something is off. He just knows. Because he knows her.

“How did those conversation pointers pan out?” She’s deflecting, he thinks.

“One of them worked.” I’m just feeding into it, he thinks.

“Only one of them?” He’s holding back something, she thinks.

“Well, yeah. We didn’t really do much talking if you get what I mean.” I don’t think I can handle this, she thinks.

“I see…” The pair stands together in a silence so tense they felt like strangers. It’s awful. Y/n and Owen hate every second of it, but what could they do? In a moment blinded by upset, Y/n reaches across the island to grab the newly opened bottle of grey goose and pours what must’ve been no less than three shots of liquid into her cup. No club soda or lemonade this time, she chugs down the rest of her drink in a flash; Owen stares at her in disbelief and shock.

Y/n hates being drunk, she likes being the designated driver, she’s never had straight up liquor in her life, and she’s a lightweight, that’s for damn sure. Owen knows all of these things and is even more surprised to see her reaching for an almost empty bottle of gin.

“Hey. Maybe you should take it easy, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a lightweight and you know it. Put the cup down.” When Y/n shakes her head no, something in Owen snaps and his desire to be gentle is long forgotten. “Y/n. Put the drink down.”

“Why do you care, Owen?” In taking time to respond, Owen sees the opportunity and goes for it, taking the cup from her loose grasp and splashing it down the drain of the vegetable sink. “What the fuck?!”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink. Come on.” It’s only a matter of time until Y/n becomes an incoherent human being that’s impossible to wrangle, so Owen is very aware he’s on the clock. Snagging two Arrowhead water bottles in one hand, he takes Y/n’s hand in the other and brings her into the Shada’s den. There are only a few other people in the room, one is a couple and the other a pair of pining idiots, to which Owen becomes slightly wary. Not that the dynamic would change much. He and Y/n are practically a couple according to everyone around them.

Chelsea and Charlie are sitting fairly close together for just friends, on the chocolate brown loveseat facing the couch that Owen has plopped his increasingly intoxicated friend onto; Leila is sitting in a single armchair that a very tipsy Taylor is hanging over the back of to hug her shoulders. Upon seeing Y/n’s pouting expression Chelsea seeks more information,

“You good, fam?”

“He threw it down the sink!” She’s fading faster than Owen had hoped.

“I did. I poured what would’ve been her fifth and sixth shots down the sink.”

“Jesus, Y/n, are you trying to kill yourself?”

“What are you, a cop?” Even tipsy she’s still sharp as a tack. If Owen wasn’t frustrated with her at the moment, he would’ve probably laughed. But he is, so he didn’t. Slipping back into caretaker mode, he hands her one of the water bottles he snagged from the cooler on the way out. In her typical stubborn and petulant fashion, Y/n weakly throws the unopened bottle onto the couch cushion next to her. All their friends laugh but Owen isn’t having it.

“Y/n.” And it only takes a firm call of her name for the slumped over lightweight to glare at him but oblige. She retrieves the bottle and sticks her arm out straight toward Owen’s still standing figure.

“I can’t open it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucked up,” Leila comments.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you fucked up period,” Chelsea adds on. Charlie laughs lightly before resuming whatever conversation the four of them had going pre-Owen and Y/n’s entrance.

Satisfied with the small sips she’s taking of her water, Owen relaxes and takes a seat next to her on the couch. The temporary break in her temper tantrum allows Owen to save his breath; he opens his own water bottle, taking a few drinks which ended up being half the bottle. He’s given her a good bit of room on the couch but it isn’t good enough for Y/n. It takes her a few failed attempts to screw on the cap of her water but once it’s properly sealed, she moves closer to her best friend. The water has acted like some magical temperament cure as Y/n’s previously permanent pout has disappeared.

Owen knows he and Y/n are close enough to where cuddling wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But the way she’s burrowed into his side, picking up his seemingly ‘heavy’ arm to place it around her own inebriated frame, laying her head high up on his chest, and unintentionally resting her hand on his lower abdomen, something feels off. Her hand isn’t dangerously low, but low enough that the side of her limp palm has met the waistband of his jeans. Owen can’t help but feel his skin tingle and burn under her touch. Why is he so affected by her touch all of a sudden?

Owen is pulled from his snowballing thoughts by the sound of Y/n’s muffled voice against his chest. He leans down as far as he can which places his head on top of hers gently.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry,” he whispers just loud enough for her to hear. A tiny drop of warmth on his shirt under her head triggers Owen’s memory: Y/n’s an emotional drunk. She doesn’t get drunk often but when she does, she goes all in and becomes somewhat manic as a result. That accounts for her previous anger. Now it’s sadness, so in about ten minutes, she’ll be easily excitable and bouncing off the walls.

Y/n had carpooled with Leila and Chelsea to the party, and though Owen was upset about her not picking him up like they’d briefly talked about at first, he’s suddenly thankful for the arrangement.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

“Unhhh.” The lack of a coherent response is enough for Owen, and after finishing the rest of his water, he sits up on the couch.

“Where’s your house key? Hm?” The prospect of losing her key is absolutely devastating to Y/n as she begins to weep. Her imminent distress in response to Owen’s question has all their friends laughing once more; Leila speaks up,

“Check the left chest pocket of her jacket.”

Owen nods, noting the directions, and gently rolls his friend over on her back. Deciding against using her strength, Y/n flops over onto her other side which still allows Owen access to her pocket. His long fingers dwarf the button fastener on her jacket that she often struggles to open, and sure enough her sky blue house key is in her pocket just as Leila said.

“Thanks,” he acknowledges Leila before taking Y/n’s cold hands in his own larger ones to help her stand. It’s a bit of a struggle to stand and as a result, the fading girl leans a bit of her weight into Owen’s side. “You gonna say bye to our friends?”

Y/n nods a goodbye to each person in the room, moving from left to right naming Leila, Taylor, Chelsea, and then Charlie. Upon saying bye to Charlie the small girl starts to cry again, harder this time, much to everyone’s confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“Charlie looked a-at me like he didn’t l-like me.” The entire room bursts out laughing, Owen included this time, but she’s still crying. “It’s no-not funny.”

“I know. You’re right, it’s not funny.” Owen’s exaggerated sympathy goes undetected by the very emotional Y/n as she presses her face into his grey long sleeve shirt. She reaches up to hug her arms around Owen’s neck for stability as she adds more tears to the tiny spot from before. “Can you walk?” He asks genuinely as more of her weight leans into him. The only response Owen gets is a few soft sobs, and in reaction to her messy state, lets out a subtle eye roll. He shakes his head before bending down to place one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulder blades, sweeping her off the ground before she can protest.

“Would you guys tell Jer thanks and that I had to take her home?” A symphony of affirmations and goodbyes usher him out of the house, and once outside Y/n’s crying diminuendos into short sniffles and the occasional sigh.

“Here, be careful,” Owen panics as his friend nearly bangs the front of her head against the roof of his car. Once he cautiously places all her limbs in the passenger side, Owen shuts the door and hurries over to the driver’s side as if Y/n could hurt herself in the next five seconds. He places the key in the ignition but before he even touches the gear shift, he turns and looks quizzically at his best friend. The sniffling and sighs coming from her puffy face have lulled her into an almost unconscious state; Owen puffs out a frustrated sigh as he reaches across the entire car to grab Y/n’s seatbelt for her.

Another thing about drunk Y/n is that her emotional state makes her more likely to give in to physical impulses. So after she registers Owen leaning across her lap for the seatbelt, she grabs his shoulder so he doesn’t move away. The action surprises Owen and he turns his face to look into her half-lidded eyes. He’s trying to make sense of the action but his trailing thoughts are interrupted when the girl in the passenger’s seat leans forward slightly to put her face against Owen’s neck.

“I like your smell.” Owen tries so hard not to laugh in fear of upsetting her again, but he can’t conceal the smile growing on his face. He then gently pulls away from her grasp in order to actually start driving,

“Okay. Thank you.”

The car ride is composed of mostly comfortable silence with the occasional inebriated comment or nonsensical sound from the girl in the passenger seat; Owen had been so captivated by Y/n’s uncharacteristically relaxed state, he’d been driving on autopilot and instead of turning left to get on the highway that runs south to where her apartment is, he’d gone north to go to his own place. No big deal, Owen didn’t plan on leaving her intoxicated and alone, and she’s stayed the night plenty of times before now. What’s one more night? It isn’t until he puts the car in park and helps her out of the vehicle that Y/n clocks her surroundings.

“I don’t live here.”

“You don’t, no, but I do,” Owen replies simply before he slides out of the car. Y/n stays in the car as if Owen told her not to move, and looks up at him confusedly when he opens her door. In her tipsy state, she is able to recognize what Owen is doing and smugly places her hand over the buckle of her seatbelt. With her tiny palm over the red button, she begins giggling maniacally.

“What are you doing?” Owen asks with a frustrated sigh although he can’t help the small smile overtaking his features at the sound of her growing laughter. He doesn’t get a response, just more giggling which lets him know he’s going to have to do things the hard way now that she’s in a lifted mood. “Kid, you have to get out of the car.”

“You can’t make me.”

Owen takes a step back from the open door to reevaluate. Y/n always tells him to work smarter, not harder. Another one of her many bouts of wisdom is that you can keep the attention of children and adults alike with a vastly dynamic change in volume. The question is will she notice Owen using this tactic on her in her drunken state?

“Hey, Y/n/n,” his speech drops to a low whisper. “I’m sad, can you hold my hand?” The change in volume works exactly as described; completely convinced by the sincerity of his whispering, Y/n gives him her right hand. “Can I have the other one?”

When she nods a small ‘yes’ and gives him both of her hands, Owen finds himself fighting the urge to laugh at how easy that was. He takes both of her cool hands in his larger left one to reach across her body and release her seatbelt with a swift CLICK.

Luckily Y/n didn’t tangle herself up in the seatbelt, but she had other ideas for causing trouble. Owen helped her out of the car but once she was standing on her own two feet, she began running away from him. With a slam of the car door and a string of breathy curses later, he chases after his best friend before she can hurt herself on literally anything in the parking garage. The sound of Y/n’s laughter carries through the vacant space, and despite all her best efforts, Owen quickly catches up to her. Her giddy intoxication allowed for the suspension of disbelief that she could outrun the much taller Owen Joyner, but she’s sorely mistaken when his strong arms wrap around her waist and lift her feet off the ground. Y/n’s bouts of laughter are contagious; Owen finds himself laughing alongside his best friend. Setting her feet back on the ground he asks,

“Are you going to run away again if I let go of you?”

“Yeah,” she chokes out through the tail end of her laughing fit. The candidness of her reply prompts Owen to throw his head back, shaking it as if in disagreement with the universe itself,

“I appreciate your honesty.” And with that, Y/n screeches in glee as her best friend maneuvers her body in his grip to lift her over his right shoulder.

“Owen!”

“You did this to yourself, kid.”

The silent elevator ride up to his flat is comfortable relative to the current position they’re in. Y/n’s no longer fighting being carried but instead entertains herself by tapping out an intricate beat on the surface of Owen’s back.

“Guess what song this is.”

The beat she’s playing is close to incoherent and Owen tries to stifle his full laugh in fear of making her cry again. He’s been successful so far, but now having Y/n over his shoulder, she can feel the movement of his abdomen that was unintelligible by sight alone.

“Your favorite song,” he guesses insincerely.

“No, my favorite song doesn’t sound like that. It was sicko mode.”

“That was not sicko mode.”

“Owen, how come you don’t wear a badge?”

“What?”

“Because you’re the song police?” Owen can’t help but snort out a laugh even though the comment was made at his expense. Still sharp as a tack.

Once the pair reach the front door of Owen’s ‘bachelorette pad’ as Y/n liked to call it, he sets her back on the ground albeit reluctantly as he recalls why he was carrying her in the first place. Thinking quickly on his feet, Owen forms a plan that’s more likely than not foolproof.

“Hey, Y/n/n?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is still right behind him thankfully.

“Can I have a hug?” After a few seconds of silence in the hall, Owen begins to doubt his plan until he feels the weight of his best friend leaning on his toned back. With her cheek pressed against the middle of his spine, Y/n brings her arms around his waist, clasping her hands tightly together. Her semi-public display of affection allows Owen some time to unlock his front door. Once he props the door open, Owen realizes that Y/n probably isn’t going to let go any time soon and opts to waddle through the threshold with her still attached to him. He’s able to turn around and lock them back in for the night which makes the girl begin to laugh.

“Was this your plan all along? To get me drunk so you could lock me in your apartment and hold me prisoner for the rest of my life?”

“And I would’ve gotten away with it, too...”

“If it weren’t for those meddling kids and their dog.”

True to his imagination that Y/n wasn’t letting go any time soon, Owen swivels her around his torso so that he could hold her to his side rather than support her with his back. He now has his right arm over both of her shoulders as she continues to hug her best friend. The way she leans her head onto his chest makes Owen’s heartbeat the tiniest bit faster. ‘She’s drunk, she doesn’t know what this does to you’ is the mantra blaring through Owen’s subconscious. Shaking any and all sort of romantic thoughts out of his head, he begins to lead her back to his bedroom.

Flicking the lights on proves to be a mistake once Y/n starts groaning miserably, and Owen decides the floor lamp is a better option than the overheads. Much to Owen’s surprise and relief, Y/n moves to sit on the edge of his bed on her own volition. She’s not upright for long as she collapses into the sheets of his unmade bed that contemplated neatening before leaving the house; hindsight is 20/20.

“Hmm. I like your smell,” Y/n parrots despite already bringing up the topic on the ride home.

“This is the same cologne I always use.”

“No. I like your natural smell.”

“What?”

“I was reading up about pheromones the other day. And there was this thing that said when couples like each others’ scent, it’s like a primal way of seeing if you’re immuno-compatible with someone so your offspring have the best chance for survival. It’s an evolutionary thing for the survival of our species. Ants have pheromones, too.”

Sometimes she has trouble remembering to feed herself, but leave it to Y/n to remember extensive information about pheromones whilst intoxicated. The concept is intriguing to Owen, so he proceeds to ask questions, ignoring the tug on his heart he felt after hearing her say the word ‘couples’.

“So, if I like your scent, we’re immuno-?”

“Compatible, yeah. But it’s mostly me because you can sniff out my period.”

“I can what?”

“I read that men can tell when a woman is at her most fertile because that’s when they like her smell the best. They did a study where a bunch of men were introduced to a few different scents, and without fail, the one they liked the most or would describe as ‘sexy’ or ‘attractive’ was the scent they took from the woman who was ovulating.”

Y/n continues talking about what she learned about pheromones as Owen picks up a bit of the mess around his room. She returns to the topic of ant pheromones as he digs through his surprisingly large closet for something for his friend to sleep in. His temporarily bubbly best friend also notes that he should ‘sniff her now because she’s ovulating and he would like that’ which makes him laugh into the drawers of his waist-height dresser. Returning to find her still slumped over on the bed, he pats her leg and beckons her to sit up. After Y/n’s upright again, Owen hands her his classic black ‘BEANS’ t-shirt and a pair of briefs that won’t properly fit her but will fit better than a pair of his actual pants.

“Can you put these on for me?”

“Yeah.” Owen’s conflicted with both wanting to respect Y/n’s privacy by leaving the room, and prioritizing her safety, and not leaving her unattended at any moment. He comes to a compromise which is staying by her side but turning a full 180 to face the wall of his bedroom. A couple of moments pass until Y/n begins whining frustratedly.

“Owen.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t ubns-” her words become incomprehensible as she begins to cry again and Owen turns around to find her struggling with the buttons on her shirt, her jacket long discarded on the bedroom floor. This shirt: her white, cap-sleeve crop top with a peter pan collar that she wore for anything mildly significant, this was her favorite. Owen remembers her fussing about how she ruined it only to find that she just forgot to steam it one day. So with a little heat and water, Owen had fixed the shirt like nothing ever happened, and he’d do it a million times over again if it meant he got to relive seeing the smile that graced her face for the first time again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do the buttons.” She runs the back of her right hand against her tired eyes to wipe away her tears and Owen internally curses himself for the way the small action makes his heart flutter.

“Do you need help?”

“Yeah.”

“Listen to me, you are okay,” he sinks to kneel in front of Y/n as she sits tiredly on the edge of the bed. Owen doesn’t miss the slight tremble of his hands as he reaches up to unbutton her shirt, but he prays that she will. Through tiny sniffles and teary eyes, she watches his hands effortlessly work down the length of her shirt, each button modestly dancing between his fingertips. Once the short top is fully unbuttoned, Owen returns to his normal standing height and Y/n attempts to shrug the fabric off her body. She struggles lightly and knowing her frustration is imminent, Owen reaches down to gingerly push the sleeves off her shoulders. The light graze of his rough, calloused skin against her own skin sends electric-like shocks through the both of them; yet neither of them believed the other felt it too.

Owen hastily withdraws his hands and, without warning, Y/n quickly removes the bralette she was wearing. Owen’s eyes widen slightly at her lack of inhibition. He does his best to be a gentleman and swiftly redirects his gaze to the white ceiling fan that has all of a sudden become the most intriguing object in the universe. His lower peripheral vision indicates that she’s finally slipped the black tee over her head, but she begins sniffling more fiercely as she struggles with taking off her jeans. Owen sighs and drops to his knees once more in spite of himself, and aids his best friend in slipping the material over the length of her calves and off the tips of her toes. Hoping to speed up the process, he grabs the briefs he had brought her and unfolds them in preparation for helping her into them. His efforts are all for naught as Y/n forgoes the need for any more clothing and slides under the covers of his unmade bed. Owen then turns to leave the bedroom, opting to set up on the couch for the night before Y/n’s small voice is cutting through the comfortable silence.

“Where are you going?” He sighs,

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll get you some water and Advil for when you wake up tomorrow.” Y/n then nods acceptingly and allows her eyes to flutter closed as he leaves the room. Despite how tired she feels, Y/n won’t quite yet let herself sleep--not ‘til Owen is beside her. When he returns he sets the ibuprofen bottle on the nightstand before uncapping the Kirkland brand water bottle he had in the fridge. He coaxes her into sitting up just one more time so she can drink some of the water before falling asleep. She sits and rubs her tired eyes as she drinks and Owen has to physically force himself to look away from the adorable sight. He just wants to take care of her forever but things have always been strictly platonic between them.

The risk of making their friendship weird or awkward was just too great.

“Goodnight kid, I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Owen leaves without awaiting a response and lets out an annoyed sigh before setting himself up on the couch in his living room. He was so focused on getting Y/n to bed safely that he forgot to grab clothes for himself. Not a big deal. He simply strips down to just his underwear and climbs underneath the thick Pottery Barn throw blanket Y/n had gifted him as a housewarming gift. That and a fire extinguisher because ‘you don’t notice its absence until you need it’ she claimed. The memory makes Owen smile and he allows his eyes to close after a long day.

A long day that was about to get longer. Owen finds himself sinking further and further into sleep until he hears the padding of footsteps that are now in his living room. He’s too tired to open his eyes, and it’s not like he doesn’t already know who it is. What does surprise him, however, is the feeling of the familiar weight squeezing between the couch and his turned back.

“What are you doing?” He half mumbles into the night.

“You’re warm.”

“That was not the question, Y/n/n.” After not receiving a reply, Owen turns as best as he can to look at his friend who’s nestling her way into his sleeping arrangement for the night. “Kid-”

“I just wanna be with you.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out of irritation, exhaustion, and a sliver of adoration before sitting up on the couch, “Come on.”

He stands up, fully expecting to have to drag her back to the bedroom, but finds relief in seeing her struggle her way off the couch. Slipping her tired hand into his unexpecting, larger one, Y/n allows her friend to lead her into the bedroom for the second time that night.

Owen considerately lifts the covers for her to climb back into before getting into the other side of the bed.

“Owen.”

“Hm?”

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, kid.”

“No,” Y/n speaks in a casual tone as if she’s not divulging into her biggest emotional trepidation to date. “I love you, Owen.”

Owen can’t help the way his heart seemingly stops. The way the butterflies in his stomach are going wild. The way he wants to smile like he’s the biggest lovestruck idiot on planet Earth.

She’s drunk. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She won’t remember this tomorrow.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

She won’t remember that tomorrow.

***

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[trials-of-a-spirit-worker]

Hi. The reason that I'm asking this is because it was ok and I thought it was just coincidence for a while until stuff built up and it started getting physical.

What types of interactions are there and which are classified as a spirit attempting harm?

I'm asking this because I've never really believed that spirits existed, but recently stuff has been getting out of hand. I wake up and I've been turned 90 degrees with the sheets made over top of me. I get hit with something from the other side of the room just hard enough to wake me up. I get dreams with something demanding I "let it in". I hear something walking outside my room. I wake up with something looming over me. I hear weird distorted dog howls outside when there's no wind.

I've started sleeping with a wooden stake under my pillow even though I know it probably won't even do anything. I've asked people I know and they have no idea what's going on. I'm asking on anon because it feels more comfortable for me.

Hey, anon.

Thanks for reaching out and I'm sorry you're going through something like this. It must be pretty daunting and maybe a little scary for you, especially for someone who didn't or doesn't believe. I had to think long and hard about how to answer this because I don't want to worry you more or upset you.

Of course, as much as I wish I could sit there and tell you oh it's this certain ghost or spirit, I cannot. I'm not physically there to feel what you do and see you experience these things. It's a little hard to identify just from one message alone. However, I will help you the best I can and if you want to continue following up with me I will be more than willing to hear you out and further help the best way I can.

This goes without saying, don't let it in. Whatever that's supposed to mean. Whether it's your psyche/mind, your soul or fully letting it in your home; you resist that demand. Cause this spirit is only trying to make things worse for you. Understand that this spirit is trying to make you feel you are powerless in it's presence when that is not the case at all. You can be firm, demand it to leave. Tell it you will no longer be tormented by this entity. It wants your fear. Don't give into it and don't be paralyzed by your discomfort. Always fight back. It might lash out make things worse, make the dreams scarier in retaliation but understand that is it trying to gain control again.

There are quite a few ways for spirits to interact but I'm going to boil them down into three large groups since this answer is already getting long.

Non-verbal

Non verbal ways where they can share what they feel or like. You might taste something that represents them, smell their perfume etc. Colors also come to mind where they can put meaning behind it as in green would be an affirmative "yes, I want this", "yes I appreciate your offering", "yes, I like this". Even some feelings/thoughts that don't feel like they're yours is their form of interacting without speaking as well. It varies for everyone.

Verbal

Verbal interaction would be them trying to talk/communicate. Sometimes its one-sided. Sometimes all they can do is scream. Verbal is pretty hard to do. Which is why people only get a few words and rarely a full on sentence on recordings and such. Some people can hear other voices in their head but this is pretty uncommon especially for older people in regards of spirits. Then there's echos and that's a whole different ballgame.

Physical

Physical is definitely a very intimidating way of communicating whether the spirit meant it or not. The act of moving things, knocking things over, touching you etc. There's something so strange of something we can't see/touch ourselves touching us. A lot of what you told me is happening to you is physical interaction. I count how a spirit makes you feel as physical too especially when it comes to ailments or the attempt of fixing them. More malicious spirits will cause headaches, migraines, nausea and things like that. Kinder ones will try and soothe/ease them if they can. However strong spirits whether kind or not, can also heavily impact you and give headaches just by being here. It's a little tricky to tell the difference even over time.

Something very important that I do want you to know is, not all spirits are like this and again I'm so sorry your first experience is something this harmful and scary. Many can be helpful and kind. Many can be your loved ones looking out for you or just a friendly entity trying to keep others safe. The spirit world is vast and mysterious. Don't let this awful encounter ruin your experience if you do want to learn more about the other side and if you don't well...who can blame you? This side of the world is already weird enough.

My advice: get some sage to burn, light a candle, or diffuse some sage essential oils (if you don't have sage, eucalyptus and peppermint seems to do the trick for me). Or if you can burn some incense. If you can get some, maybe get some holy water. Used to have a lot in a spray bottle just on hand. Jade under the pillow or beside the bed will do much better than a wooden stake for your dreams. Spray your sheets with jasmine or rosemary to have better dreams as well. Or just any scent that'll soothe your mind as you drift off. Lavender is good for the anxiety. Try and meditate if not for the spiritual benefits but for your own peace of mind.

I really hope some of this helped and don't hesitate to come back if you need me.

Other witches/spiritual people, if you have advice of your own or want to add on. Feel free to do so.

Also because I feel like this all could be heavy and really anxiety inducing have some cute below to ease that hopefully. Hang in there, anon. Keep fighting.

[idle-writer]

His Place

HIS PLACE

fandom: Detroit: Become Human

pairing: Nines (RK900) x Reader

word count: 1.75k

warnings: none

A/N: This is for the lovely anon who asked for more DBH content (I wish I know who you are so I can tag you, hope you like this!)  I hope you all enjoy reading :)

_______________

You hear someone calling your name, followed by knocks at your door. Peering through the peephole, you see a delivery guy holding a clipboard, a big human-sized box beside him. You slightly open your door, bolt still on, cautious since your part of the neighborhood isn’t exactly the safest. “How can I help?”

He says your name, and you nod. He points his thumb at the huge box. “Delivery for you.”

“I just need you to sign here and here,” he hands you the clipboard, which you refuse.

“I didn’t order anything.”

“I hauled this big heavy thing four flight of stairs. Just accept the thing so I can leave.” The man taps his foot impatiently at the floor.

Sighing, you take the clipboard from him and sign your name. He gestures for you to open the door so he can wheel the box in and you let him. He asks where he can put it down in which you pointed at a random space at your living room.

After the delivery guy has left, you inspect the box. Nothing seems out of ordinary except for its size. Grabbing a pair of scissors, you decide the box will not open on its own. You carefully drag the sharp edge of the scissors to free the box from it seal. Opening the flaps your eyes widen at what you inside. There inside the box is a man - dark chestnut hair, his chiseled face littered with few freckles, thin lips in pursed in a straight line, his eyes closed. Is he dead?! Panic surges through you, and you do something that people shouldn’t do when they see an assumedly dead body – you poke it. On the cheek. Which is incredibly soft, and cold? You shriek when you see steel grey eyes staring back at you.

“Apologies for startling you. My name is Nines,” his voice is rich and you are immediately drawn to it. “…and I’ll be your android companion.”

You open and close your mouth, gaping like a fish out of water, confused as hell as to what and why is this happening. “Android companion? I didn’t… oh god.”

Quickly pulling up your phonebook you search for his number. Only he can pull this kind of prank. The person on the other line hasn’t even said hello when you starts yelling at him, “I swear to god, Gavin Reed. Did you just send me an android boyfriend?!”

The boisterous laughter on the other line confirms your suspicions. Gavin is a childhood friend. When you were younger, he teased you mercilessly for not having a boyfriend, and you kept telling him it was because you hang around with a jerk like him too much. And when he went to the Academy, you just lost contact with each other. Until the other day, when he walks into the same café you usually get your coffee.

“You look so lonely reading your book with only a cup of latte or whatever,” you swear you can hear the snicker on his voice. “Just try and give it a few months, yeah?”

You sigh and shake your head, knowing there’s no saying no to Gavin Reed. Still as stubborn as ever.

“Fine fine fine,” you glance at the android standing at the middle of your living room, he seems to be inspecting his new environment. “But don’t they require. I don’t know. Maintenance?”

“Don’t worry about it. I have it covered. Plus that’s the latest model of its kind. It uh does it’s own self maintenance. So yeah gotta go. Bye.”

“Wait-“ you have a lot of more questions but before you can ask, he has already dropped the call.

“Is there a problem?”

You jump back, startled by the voice near your ear. It’s not everyday you have a male companion – human or android – in your living space. “No, I just haven’t done this before.”

He nods at your words, “I’d hate to make you uncomfortable in your own place. So let me know if I have to make adjustments to my configuration.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Just be yourself,” you give him a friendly smile, “This is your place now, too.”

_______________

Nines is seating in an almost 90 degree angle on the couch, feet planted to the floor, his eyes are trained forward, his LED spinning yellow. For the one month, you’ve been together, you’ve learned a lot of things about him, and he about you. You begin to notice his small mannerisms like how he subtly tilts his head to the side when he thinks.  

He begins to notice the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, or how you gently pats his arm when you laugh at something funny on the television. He also notices that there are days when you’re completely worn out from your job, but you still give him a smile and does your usual chores, ending up with you passing out on your bed.

You flop down beside him on the couch.  “Thanks for cleaning up the place by the way.”

“It’s my –“

“Yeah, yeah, it’s your job. Whatever. Still thank you,” leaning your head on his shoulder, you close your eyes. You can’t help but feel how nice it is to go home from work and find someone waiting for you. You are almost on the edge of falling asleep when you feel yourself being shaken awake.

“You have a perfectly fine bed."

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine here,” you bury your face on his shoulder, “This is my place now.”

You wake up the next day, still in the couch, blanket sitting lightly on your shoulders. You don’t know how you got into that position with your knees bent on the couch, head resting on Nine’s lap. There’s a slight soreness in the back of your neck but you don’t mind. All you can feel is the gentle caress of his fingers through your hair.

_______________

You are walking up the stairs to your apartment, silently cursing your building for not fixing the goddamn elevator. Nines is trailing beside you, finding it adorable amusing how you’re stopping every five steps to take a breath, a sound similar to a chuckle coming from him.

You are almost on your floor when something flashes by and bumps in to you. The impact so hard you feel air get knocked out of you. With your balance lost, you stumble backwards. You shut your eyes and brace yourself for the fall that didn’t come.

Nines holds you firm to his chest, “Are you alright?”

When you don’t answer, he turns you around. His eyebrows are knitted as his steel eyes frantically scans your body – neck, shoulder, wrists -  for any injuries.

“Nines. I’m okay.”

As if he doesn’t hear you, he drops on his knees and continues fussing over you, his LED spinning in quick red circles.

Using both your hands, you cup his head to make him look at you, “Nines. I’m okay. I’m fine.”

You watch as his LED slows down. Red. Yellow. Never letting go as it reaches Blue.

“You’re okay,” he mumbles more to himself than to you. “You’re okay.”

That night he tucks you to bed. You jokingly asks if he wants to share the bed with you, when he doesn’t respond, you squeeze his hand, bidding him a silent good night. He spends a few minutes standing at a dark corner of your room, watching you sleep.

The next day you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found.

_______________

It has been a week since you last saw Nines. You even contemplated tracking him down, maybe he has a GPS tracker or something, only stopping when you realize how weird that’ll be. He’s not some dog you own you can just track and put missing posters up for. He left for a reason. And the more you think about it, the sadder you get. The couch feels a lot bigger. Your apartment feels a lot emptier. Life feels a lot suckier.

A loud banging on the door followed by yell, “Police open up!”

What if they found Nines and?

You scramble to your feet and open the door. Your vision going red when you see Gavin Reed laughing on the other side. You swing a punch at him, connecting at his jaw. “You jerk!”

“What?” his signature stupid smirk on his face,  “I am police.”

“I told you, detective. That was not a good idea.”

The familiar voice freezes you on the spot. Tears starting to sting the back of your eyes. Nine is safe. He’s okay.

“Suddenly, you know her better than me? I know her since – ” Reed jeers. He turns to you , only to see you crying, face hidden in your hands. “ – woah – are you crying? You punched me yet you are the one crying.”

Your sobs becomes louder, barely muffled by your hands. Reed silently pleads for help to the android who is now glowering at the detective. Nines ushers you inside your apartment, and seats you in the couch - the same couch you two spent hours just seating side by side. Nines wraps his arms around you, letting you cry on his chest. The clean crisp smell of his clothes no longer sharing the smell of your own detergent, instead it reminded you of the first time you met him.

He waits for your tears and your shaky sobs to halt, and for your heart to rest in a steady beat. He waits for he knows you waited long enough.

And when you are able to calm down, he holds you hand, rubbing gentle circle with his thumb, gauging your reaction, calming your distress as he explains. He is sent undercover to survey the building. The guy who bumped in to you week ago is actually a wanted criminal, and if ever you see something that night, you’ll be in deep trouble that’s why Nines had to leave and make sure to capture the guy as soon as possible. His words falls in your deaf ears, your mind focusing only on two words.

“An undercover mission, huh? Just a mission. Just doing your job.” You try to act normal but ended up cracking miserably, “Why did you return then…”

Thoughts of him saying his goodbye springs in your mind, just as fresh tears does.

“I have nowhere to return to but here,” he squeezes your hand, “I was told this is my place, too.”

He will never say it out loud, at least not right now. His place is with you.

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (4)

In Which Gabriel and Plagg Argue

“I’ll solve all your problems,” Plagg had said. “You just have to agree to it.” A fixed relationship with his father, Lila to stop bothering him, and Ladybug to fall in love with him? Who wouldn’t agree to that?

Except Plagg was the God of Destruction and Chaos and had a more…hands-on approach. Adrien just wants his body back.

Ao3 | FF.net

After the shopping trip, the teens walked back to the school together, and then separated. 

“Ugh, walking is exhausting.” Plagg groaned. 

“You’re using my muscles, you know.” Adrien spoke, poking out of the pocket. “I don’t usually walk this much, since my bodyguard drives me everywhere.” 

“Well, then I’m sure this is good for you.” Plagg stomped in big steps. “But I haven’t used legs since the last time I switched with a wielder, so I get to complain.” 

“I think by that logic, you don’t get to complain, because you usually get to float. And not going to lie…it’s pretty sweet.” 

“Just wait until you start floating in your sleep, and then you phase through the ceiling and then keep going and end up in space.” 

Adrien froze, staring up at his own face from the pocket. “That can happen?” 

“Oh yes. Good luck sleeping tonight!”

Not too much longer, Plagg arrived back at the Agreste manor. 

He could feel Adrien shaking in his pocket. “What’s up, Bub?” 

“My father is going to be waiting for you. I just know it. He’s going to yell and threaten to pull you out of school—“ 

“What, like he did this morning? Relax. There’s plenty of windows in the mansion.” 

But Adrien came spiraling out of the shirt to look Plagg in the eyes. “But I don’t want you to break anymore windows! I don’t want you to make my father angry anymore! You’re hurting him!” 

Plagg gave him a hard look. “Is that what you think, Adrien? That your disobedience hurts him?” 

“Why else would he be mean? He loves me...” 

Plagg reached up and scratched his ears. “Of course he does, kid. But...sometimes, in people like your dad, love isn’t the strongest motivator. I know it is with you. Love is about the only thing that controls you. Your love for your friends, for your family, your city, for Ladybug...that all drives your decisions.” 

Adrien was quiet as he agreed. 

“But for people like your father, they’re driven by power. They base decisions on what will make them look good and get more respect. He does love you, Adrien, but he wants your unconditional loyalty. He doesn’t want you to question him, or to disagree with him, because you’re his son. He made you, and you’re half of him. So if anyone is to be completely submitted to his will, it’s you.” 

Adrien frowned. “I don’t believe that. I think...I think he’s just scared. Of losing me, that is. Like we lost mom. So he keeps me restricted.” 

“But he’s always treated you like this, even before you lost your mom.” 

Adrien had no argument to that, and just slowly lowered himself into Plagg’s hands. 

“Just think about it. I’ll do all the talking, you just listen and see.” 

“Okay.” 

Plagg tucked him back into the pocket, before approaching the gate and ringing the doorbell. 

The camera didn’t even come out, the gate just opened. 

It felt like walking into a hell mouth. 

Inside, Gabriel stood at the bottom of the stairs, with his arms crossed. Next to him, Nathalie stood with her own arms crossed. And next to her stood Lila, with her arms also crossed. 

Plagg couldn’t help but snicker. They looked like three Russian puzzle dolls. Would Lila pop open and show another smaller, angrier creature? 

“What’s so funny?” Demanded Gabriel. “Where have you been?” 

“Chill man, I was out with my friends.” 

“And spending my money?” 

“You literally let me spend whatever money I want. I just usually never have anything I want to buy. I treat my friends to a nice lunch and it’s the end of the world?”

Gabriel sniffed, “you obviously can’t see that your so-called ‘friends’ are only hanging around you because of our wealth. I disprove of the company you keep, especially Mr. Lahiffe—“ 

“Why?” 

“You don’t get to question my authority.” 

“I’m just honestly curious as to why you don’t like them. I don’t buy stuff for my friends, despite what you think. Nino is a really good friend and a nice person. He doesn’t get in trouble, and his grades are pretty good. So what’s up?” 

“I simply don’t care for his plebeian attitude.” 

Plagg scoffed. “Plebeian?! Excuse me, what century is this again? Are we nobles or something I didn’t know about?” He pitched his voice high to have a ‘proper’ voice. “Oh yes Martha, we shan’t have our child run around with the rift raft in the fields. He must get a proper education so he may marry his cousin, have a child with three eyes, and die at the ripe old age at 26!” 

“Adrien!” Gabriel yelled. “How dare you mock me!” 

“Then stop talking like a 17th century noble! We have money, but high society never did anyone favors! You just sound like an old idiot! An old, out of touch, insensitive idiot!” Then he pointed at Lila. “And if you want to talk about people taking advantage of us, why don’t you turn yourself 90 degrees that-a-way to grill this blood sucking parasite.” 

“On the contrary,” Gabriel interrupted. “Miss Rossi only has your best interests at heart, which is why she came here and told me all about your little charade you put on during school today. You assaulted your bodyguard!” 

“He’s fine.” 

“Whether or not he’s fine is beside the point, Adrien. I hired him to protect you, and you attack him?” 

“He wasn’t protecting me. He was trying to kidnap me! I wanted to be at school!” 

“Well naughty children don’t get to do what they want to do!” 

“Do you want me to be happy or stupid?!” 

“No! Wait—“ 

“Ah ha!” Plagg pointed. “You just want me to be miserable!”

Gabriel flared his nostrils. “Stop trying to twist my words. The fact remains that you have been completely out of control these last few days, and I have no choice but to discipline you accordingly. From now on, you will have no contact with these teenagers that are encouraging you to behave like this monster. Instead, you will only be allowed to interact with Miss Rossi at photo shoots.” 

Plagg saw the corner of the man’s mouth curve up. Check mate, the gesture said. 

Time to take it up a notch.  

“I’m not sure the best way to handle this situation, so I’ll handle it the way Chloe would.” He laid down on the floor and began to kick and scream. “DADDY! DADDY I HATE HER! FIRE HER AT ONCE!!” 

“If you don’t stop this tantrum this instant, you’re being pulled out of school.” 

“Ha!” He laughed, still from the floor. “I’ll just reenroll! I broke one window getting out the first time, there’s not a lock in this earth that can hold me, old man.” 

“Adrien, go to your room.” 

“Make me.” 

“You’re angering me, and you won’t like me when I’m angry.” 

“I don’t like you now.” 

“This attitude of yours is disrespectful, disgusting, immature, and embarrassing. I raised you better than—“ 

“Are you done?” Plagg asked, scratching his ear. “Because you just keep talking. That’s all you do. This gaslighting is getting really old. I know I’m acting immature, that’s the whole thing. Pointing it out just makes you look stupid. Are you going to hit me or something?” 

“I’m not going to hit you, Adrien.” 

“Huh. Didn’t know you had it in you.” 

Gabriel frowned. “You really think I would hit you?” 

“You’ve already hit emotional and verbal abuse, I assumed that was the next step.” 

“I am not abusive! I am strict, but I only have your best interests at heart.” 

“Right, like making me schmooze with Miss Sausage Hair here?” 

“Hey!” Lila cried. 

“Oh shut up, you’re plenty at fault here too.” 

“That’s it. Adrien, you’re grounded. No phone, no computer, no tv, no video games, and no school.” 

“So you want me to just sit in my room and stare out the window? Or are you going to board those up too?” 

“There’s plenty of books for you to read. Books that will hopefully change your mind about this rebellious streak.” 

“Until when?” 

“Until I say so!” 

“Cool. I quit modeling.” 

“WHAT!?” 

“You heard me. I quit modeling. Or you can fire Lila and unground me. Your choice, Gabe.”

Gabriel ground his teeth as Lila just stood there in shock. 

“I’ll give you some time to think about it.” Plagg cracked his neck. “I’ve got homework to do.” 

“But—“ 

“Ah ah ah,” Plagg held up a hand. “Talk to the hand, cause the face ain’t listening.” He skipped up the stairs, and out of the lobby. 

Gabriel simmered in rage, feeling the control which had been so firmly in his hands slip away. 

“Mr. Agreste—“ Lila began. 

“No.” He interrupted. “I need some time to think. Keep your eye on Adrien and let me know exactly what he’s up to, who he’s with, what he’s doing. You do this, and I will reward you greatly.” 

“Of course, Mr. Agreste.” 

—

As soon as Plagg closed the bedroom door, Adrien spiraled out of his pocket. 

“Hey kid, I know that was rough...” 

“Rough?! No kidding! You’re a monster! How could you talk to my father like that!? How could you insinuate that he would hit me? And you got me grounded and pulled from school! You quit modeling!” 

“Honestly Adrien, I thought he might hit me. His anger reflects violence. You see it too.” 

Adrien rubbed his paws over his cheeks, trying to stop the tears. 

“Come on kid, it’s for the best.” And he reached out for him. 

But Adrien darted away. “I’m going to see Tikki! I need comfort from someone that’s not trying to ruin my life!” 

Before Plagg could protest, Adrien had flitted out the window and into the streets. 

The sun was setting, and traffic was dwindling, as working folks made their way home. 

Finding Marinette’s house was a matter of finding the school, and then going from there, while sticking to the shadows and staying high enough away from straying eyes. 

When he reached her balcony, he loitered at the window, trying to figure out how to phase in. Then he wondered if he should even bother. Tikki might scold him for leaving Plagg. Or maybe she’d laugh at him for being upset. She was millennia old too. His problems probably would sound trivial to her as well.

Eventually, he just knocked. 

Marinette answered, a grave look on her face. “Plagg? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Is Chat okay?” 

“He’s fine.” Adrien sniffed. “Can I talk to Tikki please?” 

Shocked by his politeness and shy demeanor, she blinked twice and answered, “Uh, sure.” 

Tikki appeared then, looking at him with concerned eyes. 

“I’ll just leave you two alone then,” Marinette stated, closing the window. 

“Adrien? What’s wrong?” 

It all came out of him then. “He’s a monster!” Adrien blubbered. “He’s ruining everything and making it all worse! I don’t know how to stop him! But my father is done with me and is going to pull me out of school! Plagg keeps acting like it’s no big deal, but he doesn’t understand! He’s just treating this like a big game!”

To his relief, Tikki hugged him tightly. “Oh Adrien. Plagg means well, I promise. His methods don’t make much sense, but they do produce results. It’ll be alright.” 

Adrien just sniffed, taking comfort from the hug. “I feel so helpless. I can’t do anything without outing myself as Chat Noir, and that’s the last thing I need...unless Plagg beats me to it. I know everyone is suspicious of him. This is a nightmare.” 

“I’ll talk to him when I get a chance,” promised Tikki. “He does mean well, I promise. But this is your life, and making you watch him work is torture.” 

“Exactly! Tikki you understand! If he does pull this off, I will thank him, but like...what if it doesn’t work? He acts like humans are so predictable and easy to manipulate, but even with all his life and experiences, he can’t account for everything. I’m worried he’s being too cocky.” 

Tikki petted his head. “Plagg can get over his head sometimes. He’s lazy and stubborn, but that just makes him ridiculously creative. Some of his attempts may fail, but I really think you just have to trust that he’s in control.” 

“I know, I know, and in my head, I know he’s doing this for me. I know he doesn’t want to be in my body, and I know he’s crazy smart…but I feel…betrayed? Scared? I don’t know what I’m feeling.” 

“Unstable.” Tikki provided. “Because you have no control over your life.” 

He frowned, holding onto his tail. 

“But, from what Plagg has told me, you didn’t have much control of it before either.” 

He rubbed a paw against his cheek. “Sadly, no. I didn’t.” 

The trap door opened again, and Marinette peeked her head out. She placed a plate with a cheese danish on it on the ground nearby. “Anything I can do?” 

Tikki answered for him, only slightly lying, “sometimes Plagg gets emotional when he thinks about past holders that we lost tragically. He said Chat was busy and he didn’t want to bother him.” 

“Oh Plagg, I’m so sorry.” 

Adrien rubbed his eyes with his paws again. He may not be in his body, but he did feel a little embarrassed to be crying in front of his crush. 

“Say Marinette, now that you’re the guardian, it would be really helpful if you could comfort him.” 

“Me? I...I guess. What do I do?”

“Just do what feels right.” 

Adrien floated a little closer to her, desperate for her affection, but hesitant to take it for himself. 

She cupped him in her hands, cradling him, holding him, cocooning him with her skin. She brought him up to her face, leaving a lingering kiss right between his ears, then caressed him to her cheek, her fingers encircling him in a hug. 

A stray finger itched the back of his head, sending tingles all the way down to his tail and making him purr. 

This was heavenly. Her scent surrounded him, dulling his senses and calming his tears. 

“It’s okay.” She said softly. “It’s alright to be sad. Things will get better.” 

Her words soothed the day's pain, and he really did feel more optimistic. He could do anything with Ladybug’s support. 

Finally, he pressed a little kiss to her cheek and allowed her to pull away. “Thank you Marinette. I do feel a lot better now.” 

Her smile was so warm and so wonderful, he could stare at her all day. 

But an Akuma alert had to go and ruin the whole thing. 

“You better get back to Chat! If you need more comfort, come back tonight after patrol!” 

“Thanks Marinette! Save that Danish for me!” And he rushed off back to the mansion.

[yikesharringrove]

I’ve been struggling with the need to self harm lately (Im 4 years clean) and it’s just been a real struggle. I had to make my roomate hide all the razors in the place. I was wondering if you could write about one of the boys struggling with this? Either wanting to relapse after years of being clean or seeing the others scars or what they do to themselves? If it’s too much I totally understand.

Big trigger warning for self harm

-

Hey, I’m 4 and 1/2 ish years clean! Let’s stay in this together! I’m proud of you for knowing yourself and asking your roommate to help.

btw if any of y’all just need someone to be in your corner if you’re struggling like this, my dms are always open. I’m happy to sit and talk with you.

Um, in the fic, I describe Steve’s scars, and there’s some fresh cuts, but there’s no description of the act of self harm.

-

Steve liked to have sex with the lights off.

Billy noticed it pretty quickly, it’s not a difficult thing to notice.

He also noticed how Steve opted for the sweatpants each gym class, even when it was 90 degrees and boiling outside, and how Steve never showered after gym.

In fact, he had literally never seen Steve’s legs.

Maybe he was insecure about them? Billy doesn’t know why. They’re long and lean and strong. Billy loves slotting himself between them, loves getting Steve blushing and in the mood by running his hand up them.

But he didn’t wanna, just like ask.

That felt a little invasive.

Steve would tell him, in time.

But Steve never told him.

It was late, and Steve was wrapped around Billy like the world’s cutest octopus, hair in his face, drool on his pillow.

Billy wriggled out from his grip, turning on the bedside lamp to guide his way to the bathroom.

Steve was a deep sleeper, didn’t wake up for hardly anything.

So he was still completely assed out when Billy came back from the bathroom.

Billy’s breath caught.

Steve had kicked off the covers, his whole body on display.

And Billy finally saw those legs.

He had scars littered everywhere. Little white slashes marked him from his knees to his hips.

Billy took a few cautious steps forward.

Yeah, some of these were definitely fresh, bright red and only beginning to scab over.

Billy sat on the edge of the bed, brushing his finger over a particularly nasty one on Steve’s hip.

Steve shifted a little, humming contentedly.

“Mmm, Bill, come back to bed.” His eyes were still closed, his voice raspy.

Billy thought about waking him up, but figured how fucking awful that would be, to be woken up at three in the morning to talk about your self harm.

He turned off the lamp, curling around Steve.

-

“Baby, we gotta talk.”

Billy had woken up to Steve fully dressed again in sweats and one of Billy’s shirts.

He had made them both breakfast, smiling all sweet and pretty at him.

But now, the smile slid off his face.

“Um, what about?” Steve’s voice was stiff, lilted.

“I, uh, I saw your legs. Last night.”

Steve went instantly paperwhite.

“Billy, it’s not-”

“Stevie, don’t.” Steve swallowed thickly. “I know it’s exactly what I think. But I just, I’ve been thinking, thinking a lot, and I was gonna say all this shit about how I don’t care, and how nothing about us will change, but I do care. I care a lot. I care that you’re hurting so much you’ve begun hurting yourself. I care that I haven’t noticed that you’re struggling. And look, what I meant is that your body is still beautiful, that I still think you’re perfect, but I just, I want you to stop.”

“It’s not that easy.” Steve was looking down, poking at his scrambled eggs with his fork.

“I know it’s not, and that’s okay. But I want to help you. I want to help you get to a place where you can stop. But I, I think something has to change between us.”

“Is this you dumping me?” Steve still wasn’t looking at him.

“Of fucking course I’m not dumping you. But I need, please don’t pretend with me anymore, okay?” Steve gave a miserable half smile.

“You won’t like me if I don’t pretend.”

“That’s not true.”

“People only like me if I’m faking it all, Billy. That’s just a fucking fact.”

“Prove yourself wrong. Quit faking with me. Show me everything. Show me how much you struggle. Show me the breakdowns and the numbness and everything, and when I’m still there, when I’m still fucking loving you, prove yourself wrong.”

“Look, this isn’t some shit like in the movies, where the power of love will save me.” Steve’s eyes were hollow when he looked at Billy. “It’s not pretty.”

“Don’t care. Wanna see it anyway.”

“Why?” His voice was small. “Why do you wanna see it?”

“Because I wanna show you that you’re worth it anyway. That even though you’re sad or mad or just fucking empty, you’re worth it to me. None of those are deal breakers. I wanna know how to help you. I wanna know when you’re on the verge of hurting yourself so I can hug you so that you won’t. I wanna look up phone numbers for therapists and drive you to appointments so that you can get help, actual real help.” Steve’s bottom lip was trembling. “I love you, Stevie. Hurting parts and all.”

Steve’s knees slammed into the table as he stood up, coming to toss himself onto Billy’s lap.

He sobbed into his shirt, clinging to the fabric for dear life.

“No one’s ever noticed.” He could barely speak through his sobs. Billy just held him tight, hands splayed wide on his back. “Nobody has ever bothered looking.”

“It’s okay if that’s what you wanted. It’s okay if you wanted someone to see. I’m sorry it’s taken this long.” Billy pressed kisses to his shoulder, whatever parts of Steve he could reach.

After a while, his sobs slowed, his breaths still jagged but better.

“And look, I’m not expecting you not to have bad days. I’m not expecting you not to slip up and hurt yourself. I won’t be disappointed if that happens. I just hope that you call me and let me hold you for a while. And I hope that those calls become less frequent. I hope that you call me when you’re just thinking about it, so I can come take your mind off things. All I’m asking is that you let me in, just a little bit.” He took Steve’s wet face in both his hands, forcing Steve to make eye contact. “And I’m not gonna say some shit about fixing you, because you are not broken. You just need some extra lovin’ and I’m more than happy to give that to you. So let me.” Steve nodded, tears still dripping down his cheeks.

“I can try.” Billy smiled at him, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, his nose.

“Thank you, Sugar. That’s already a step.”

[authorialarcanist]

Gracidea Blossom Chapter 7: In The Town of Incessant Rain

(Pokémon Diamond, Pearl, & Platinum x Little Busters!)

Mirror Links: AO3, Pokécommunity, Spacebattles

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Previous - Next

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Meow?

“You can do it, Lennon! Reach for the stars!”

Meow!

With a determined cry, Lennon pounces at its target, white fur shining under bright ceiling-mounted lights. Its ambitions are frustrated as the fluffy toy jolts out of its way, leaving the Litten to hit the floor on the other side empty-pawed. With an agile hop, it turns to look for its prey.

“Keep going! Only by believing in yourself can you grow into a proper warrior!” Rin waves the toy - a simple stick with white fluff modeled after a Minccino’s furry, white-tipped tail on one end - and brings it back down into her Pokémon’s sights. Lennon makes another attempt to catch the toy, and yet another as Rin leads it on a merry chase around the room.

At the moment, they’re inhabiting a small side room in a Pokémon Center, one of several set aside for Trainers to battle or train their Pokémon. The ubiquitous Pokémon Center Theme can still be heard filtering in from the main rooms of the building, but it’s quiet enough to blend with the sound of rain pounding down on the roof and the roads outside.

After their meal, Rin had brought her and Riki’s Pokémon to be healed while Riki and Kengo ran for a store to grab more than a single umbrella’s worth of rain gear for the group. Masato vanished to who knows where for his muscle training and Kyousuke went to get a start on his advertising gig, leaving Rin to her own devices. After waiting a short while for the Pokémon to be returned in full health, she retreated to the training room to let them stretch their legs.

MEOWWW! Lennon cries triumphantly as it finally snags the Pokémon toy out of Rin’s hand with a flying tackle.

“Woah!” Rin’s jaw drops when she realized what happened. “Well done, Lennon! Could it be you’ve become a proper warrior already?” Lennon preens, only to hiss in surprise as the ground yaws beneath it. It scrabbles with its claws, finding no traction in moist soil as Terra dumps it off from where it had landed on the Turtwig’s back. Terra snaps at the cat Pokémon indignantly.

Lennon bristles, and starts to circle the Turtwig before being cut off by a sharp “No!” It looks back at its trainer, who continues, “I’m watching Terra and Sly until Riki gets back. You’re not allowed to fight them.” A minute passes, the Litten withering under Rin’s stare, until it finally gives up and slinks back to her side. “Good kitty.” Lennon arches its head up into Rin’s palm as she pets it. “Oh? Do you want a treat?”

Nya.

“You want some Mon petit?”

Nyaa!

“You’ve already had some today. You shouldn’t eat too much between lunch and supper, or you’ll get a bellyache.”

Nyaaa…

Rin shakes her head. “I’ll give you this, instead. You diddo well today, after all.” Smiling brightly, Rin pulls out a plastic container full of small, colourful cubes. She places a red one in the middle of her palm, offering it to the cat. Lennon sniffs the candy block and then laps it up, tickling Rin’s hand in the process. “You too, Santa. Come here.” This time, the Pokéblock she offers is pink, and the Chingling looks up from the other side of the room where it has Sly wrapped up in its tendrils. It lets go, (Riki’s Bonsly looks relieved at the release from its cuddling,) and wanders over. After a couple of tries, it gets its jaw around the Pokéblock and jingles happily at the sweetness.

Rin slips the rest of the Pokéblocks back into her bag. They’re not all that easy to find in Sinnoh, so she has a limited stock until her brother takes another trip to Hoenn. There are Poffins, of course, but… She glances at Santa as it tries to crunch down on its treat. When it comes down to how cute her Pokémon look eating them, Pokéblocks win every time!

“Hm?” Rin becomes aware of a gaze fixed on her, and turns to see Riki’s Pokémon staring balefully. “Ah…”

Terra blinks, first with one eye, then the other.

“I really shouldn’t… I mean, you’re Riki’s Pokémon, and he might have his own plans…”

Sly looks like it’s on the verge of tears.

Rin folds. “…Okay, fine. It’s our secret, alright?” She fumbles in her bag to pull out a couple more Pokéblocks, glances both ways to confirm nobody’s watching, and slips them to the Pokémon. “You’re not allowed to tell Riki, got it?”

Terra crushes one of the blocks with its beak.

“Woah!” A tugging sensation on her clothes draws Rin’s gaze back to Lennon, who is trying to climb her like a tree. One of its claws goes a little too deep, and nicks her skin for a moment. “Aah!” She jolts, and the Litten flops to the ground in surprise. “You have to be more careful, Lennon! People aren’t as tough as you are!” She pauses. “…Well, Masato might be.”

Meow~ Lennon rolls back and forth on the floor.

“You’re really brimming with energy today.” Rin watches Lennon roll around her in a clumsy loop. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Roll… Roll…

“Did you have that much fun battling?”

Lennon comes to a stop once it’s right-side up and meows at her.

“What about you, Santa?”

The Chingling bounces up and down, its bell sounding every time it pushes off the ground.

“Hmm. Well, I’ll tell you a secret, then.” Rin leans in close to her Pokémon, and whispers, “I did, too!” She deftly lifts Santa into her lap, and runs her hands along its rope-like appendages. It cuddles up closer to her in pleasure, and she pats the smooth top of its bell.

“Hmmm…” Rin plops her chin on one hand and hums to herself, deep in thought. “Hmmmmmmmmmmm…” Her head tilts slowly to the side as she thinks, approaching a 90 degree angle. Once her head hits 45 degrees, she straightens up. “I’ve got it!”

Lennon sits and looks up at her, tail swishing on the floor.

Rin nods, filled with self-satisfaction. “Tomorrow, I’ll ask Riki to battle me!”

——

“I still don’t understand why I have to do this…”

The next morning brings with it the hustle and bustle of the big city. Businesspeople dash to their places of work, some with bagels dangling from their mouths. Children rush to their schools, chatting with friends as they do. Nearly everybody is carrying rain gear of some kind - while the rain let up overnight, the skies above the city are still cloudy and threatening.

Although the crowds disquiet Rin, she nonetheless pushes through, dragging Riki behind her until they near Jubilife TV. Across the street from the TV station, set smack-dab in the center of the city, is a refreshing spot of green that stands out amidst Jubilife’s rocky greys.

“It’s so we can fight,” Rin responds matter-of-factly. “Masato, Kengo, and Kyousuke are all too strong for a real match. If I want to battle someone, it has to be you.”

It’s not much compared to Amity Square, but Jubilife’s sole park - boasting wide stretches of grass, a fountain, and even several trees all scattered around a path dotted with benches - remains a popular spot for elders and children who want to be amidst living things without venturing into the wilder routes outside the city. Rin pulls her friend past several benches until they reach a dirt battlefield in the shade of the massive Global Terminal building.

“No, no, no, that doesn’t follow at all,” Riki sighs. “First of all, nobody said we’re the only Trainers in the world! I’m sure you could find someone who wants to battle at the Trainer School or the GTS!”

Rin glances behind her at the building in question. It’s a huge, multi-story cone of glass and steel, with a tower on the roof pointing satellite dishes in every direction. Originally called the Global Trade Station - the first in the world, Kyousuke once told her with a gleam of patriotism - over the years it grew beyond its original purpose as a glorified signal-booster allowing interregional Pokémon trades and became a general all-purpose gathering point for the region’s Trainers to communicate with both each other and their counterparts in distant lands. Even as far away as she is, Rin still gets the impression of hundreds - maybe thousands - of strangers crowding within, all shouting over each other, their shadows twisting and merging into a multi-headed beast—

The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. “Of course I can’t do that, dumbass!”

Riki steps back, hands in front of him placatingly. Whatever further arguments he was going to present die on his lips. “Okay, okay… I’m sorry. Still, are you sure you’re alright not being able to talk to strangers? You’ll have to manage on your own someday, won’t you?”

Rin shakes her head. “You and Kyousuke will be there,” she says simply.

“Ah…” Riki doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that. In lieu of further debate, Rin points her Pokéball at the ground in front of her and presses the button on front, causing it to shoot out a red beam that materializes into Lennon. Riki gives up and throws his own Pokéball, his eyes widening as Terra appears across from the fire cat. Lennon darts for its opponent, and Riki fumbles with his belt. “Crap! Terra, return! Go, Sly!”

“Lennon, use Lick!” Rin seizes on the opening without remorse, and her Litten lashes the Bonsly with its tongue before the Pokémon can get its bearings. “Now Roar!” Sly is still staggering back when Lennon lets out an intimidating yowl, and before Riki can react his Pokémon is hiding behind his legs.

“Sly—“ Riki grimaces, and after a moment he sends Terra back out into battle. The turtle Pokémon has no choice but to take an Ember attack head-on upon reentry, but it shakes it off and lumbers forward. “T— Terra, use Tackle!” With a determined cry, the Turtwig plows through a second Ember to ram into Lennon, sending the cat stumbling back. Lennon jumps out of the way before it can take a second attack, and readies another Ember, but both combatants are flagging. A third Ember should be enough to finish Terra off, but… its physical attacks are strong enough that it might be able to take Lennon out if it gets luck— “Come back, Terra! Sly, I’m counting on you!”

Rin clicks her tongue in frustration as Riki backs off, and switches Sly into an ineffective Ember attack. Even if the Bonsly has a better type matchup, Terra’s been weakened enough at this point that it won’t be able to recover from the tempo loss of switching back in. No matter how she tries to push, the spark she felt the previous day just won’t come. Riki is all over himself with hesitation and openings; she doesn’t feel an ounce of fighting spirit from him. “Charge him, Lennon!” Lennon darts for Sly, as Rin bets it all on getting in closer than Rock Throw’s effective range.

“Sly, use R— I mean--“ Riki hesitates just a moment too long. “Er, use Flail!” Paralyzed by its trainer’s indecision, Sly takes Lennon’s Lick attack before it can retaliate. The Litten goes down, but before Rin can switch in Santa to finish the job, she’s interrupted by what sounds like thunder rolling.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIIIIIIIIIIS!” Rin clamps her hands over her ears and screws her eyes shut at the explosive shout. When the noise dies down, she takes in the sight of a tall, wiry old man in a green robe. His mustache, goatee, and spiky hair have all gone white with age, and he’s glaring at the two of them with brown eyes. “JUST WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT DISPLAY?”

“…A Pokémon Battle?” Riki cocks his head at the old man.

“Pah! I’ve fought better Pokémon Battles than that in my sleep,” The aggressive geezer growls. “I’ve seen Pokémon Coordinatorswith more aggression than you, kid! And as for you!” He wheels on Rin, who steps back involuntarily.

Before he can advance any further, she settles on a preemptive strike! She bristles and shouts at him, “Nobody asked you, old man!”

The geezer explodes again. “WHO’S AN OLD MAAAAAAAAAN!?” His eyes flash with anger, and his shout echoes around the park. As though in response, the clouds burst open and rain begins to pour down once again. Quivering under the huge stranger’s shout, Rin kicks into fight or flight mode, and miserably succumbs to her only option.

“Rin! Wait up!”

She runs away.

——

Rin presses her back against the wall of a building, half-sheltered from the rain by the lip of the roof. Her breathing is slowing down again now that she’s gotten away safely, but… she’s traded in for a new problem instead. She’s lost and alone in the big city, surrounded by people she doesn’t know. Even now, strangers with ponchos and umbrellas rush up and down the street, causing Rin to flinch back whenever one passes too close. Occasionally a member of the faceless mass slows, as though debating whether to approach her, but they always pick up their pace when she hisses at them.

“Rin! Thank goodness, I finally found you… Are you okay?”

Rin jumps at the sudden voice calling out to her, and glances around wildly. Her body tenses up, ready to make one last desperate attack… and then she recognizes the voice as coming from Riki, standing in front of her with an umbrella. The pent-up energy transfers to her voice as she speaks a little too quickly. “I-I’m fine!”

“Are you sure? You looked kind of—“

“I said I’m fine!” Rin glares at her friend, daring him to contradict her.

“Ah… Alright…” Riki blinks first, averting his gaze. After fidgeting for a moment, he hands Rin a folded-up umbrella. “Oh, right. By the way, you dropped this.”

“O-oh. Thanks, Riki.” As she falls back into a familiar routine, Rin slowly relaxes. She unfolds her umbrella - courtesy of Riki and Kengo’s shopping trip - and steps back out into the rain. “…I guess we should meet back up with the others.”

Riki falls into step with her as she turns back towards the hostel where Kyousuke arranged for them to stay. “You’re not going to say we need to finish that battle?” he asks.

Rin just shakes her head. “No point.” The scary old man was right about one thing - she’s certain, now. She’s not going to get the challenge she wants from Riki.

“I see…” From the look on his face, Riki clearly doesn’t see, but he follows along nonetheless. Rin continues to glance around warily, some instinctual part of her still convinced that an enemy is going to accost her. In the end, however, she and Riki encounter nothing but puddles and thunder-cracks as they walk through the sodden city.

——

“You want us to what?” Masato’s jaw drops.

Rin stares at him unblinkingly. “Help me train,” she repeats, brooking no argument.

“Well someone’s had a change of heart. Didn’t we have to bribe you the last time we wanted you to learn something? Why the sudden change?” Kengo drums his fingers on his arm.

Rin had wasted no time in making her demands when she and Riki arrived back at the hostel. She’s not sure what’s so hard to understand about it. “I just want to. Riki’s not enough to give me an interesting battle -” she ignores his halfhearted ‘Hey!’ - “so I need to try something else.”

“Hmm. Well, I guess that’s reasonable…” Kengo plows over Riki’s murmur of ‘You too…?’ to give Rin a nod, but Masato interrupts him.

“Woah, woah, hold on! After all the trouble she gave us, Rin gets to just plow in here and demand our help like it’s a given?” Masato frowns and crosses his arms. “Shouldn’t we at least make some demands of our own?”

Rin glares at him. “Like what?”

Masato thinks for a minute, face scrunching up further and further. Finally, he gives a defeated shrug. “Heck if I know. Ugh, now I’ve got a headache…”

Rin looks on with naked awe. “What an idiot!”

“Uwoooh! At least don’t call me that when you’re asking for my help!” Masato covers his face with his hands and lets out a groan of utter despair.

Rin places her hands on her hips. She can’t help but feel that they’d strayed from the main point. “Anyways, help me train!”

“No, he’s got a point…” Kengo scratches his chin. “You really should be polite if you’re asking a favor.”

“Ugh…” Rin grimaces. The conversation is going off the rails, fast. She looks to Riki for support.

“…I’m sorry, Rin.” Riki shrugs helplessly. “It is important to know how to ask for help properly…”

Rin groans. She glances around, as though something in her surroundings would grant her an escape route.

The world is not so accommodating.

Finally, she clenches her fists, screws up her determination, and shouts, “Please, train me!”

She hears Masato’s astonished voice. “Woah… Did Rin actuallyjust ask us nicely…?”

Her eyes still closed, Rin half-bows to her friends. She’s certain that with this, she and her Pokémon will be able to battle and grow closer. This is how her story begins. “Please, help me get stronger so I can challenge the Gym!”

[octothorpetopus]

And It Was Not Your Fault But Mine (Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss)

Hotch, Jack, and Emily have formed their own little family. So when Hotch says something he doesn’t mean during an argument, they’re left to rebuild what they had from the ground up.

a/n: I knew there was a reason I put Little Lion Man on my Hotch playlist and it worked out perfectly. also creds to @agenthotchner for the fantastic idea.

taglist: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @winterscaptain @cha0ticbisexual

The day it begins, Emily is bringing in the last of the boxes from her apartment. Hotch’s apartment is bigger, it’s nicer (it doesn’t have her incredible view of the national mall, but that’s life), and most importantly, it’s where Hotch and Jack are. Right now, they’re sitting on the sofa while she pulls in the last cardboard box of her stuff.

“You could help, you know,” she says, mostly joking.

“Yeah, Jack, go help Emily.” Hotch nudges his son, who jumps off the couch and runs over to Emily.

“Alright, kiddo, you grab that side, and I’ll...” Wobbling, Jack and Emily teeter over to the already shoulder-high stack of boxes. “Aw, nice job, little man!” She crouches and high-fives the five-year-old who has become the closest thing she has to a son. “Hey, Jack, why don’t you look in that box over there?” He opens the flaps of the box she’s pointing at, and pulls out a folded-up scooter in a box. “So next time we go to the park, maybe you can try to keep up with Daddy on his bike.”

“Thanks, mom,” Jack says, and Emily almost faints. Mom? He’s never called her that before, and she doesn’t quite know how to react. Her eyes dart over to Hotch, who hasn’t quite stopped smiling, but looks as if he wants to. Still, he doesn’t say anything.

“Come on, kiddo, it’s time for your nap.” He steers Jack into the hall, away from Emily, and when they’re both out of sight, she collapses onto the floor. What is she supposed to say to that? It shouldn’t be her job, it should be Hotch’s, but still, she feels wrong just letting her boyfriend’s son call her ‘mom’. They’ve been together since before she faked her death and moved to Paris, almost four full years, so it’s not like she hasn’t been involved in raising Jack. But she’s not his mother, and she’s never pretended to be. As someone who was practically raised by nannies, she’s fully aware that just reading bedtime stories, making lunches, putting band-aids on skinned knees, and sharing a bed with a child’s father isn’t enough to make someone a mother (that last one had caused a significant amount of childhood emotional trauma).

But when Hotch comes back from putting Jack down for his nap, he doesn’t say anything. He just smiles at her and opens up another box.

“I’m not sure I have enough cabinet space for your mug collection, Em.”

“Oh, really? But we have room for your stamp collection?”

“Fair.” He kisses the top of her head as he passes her into the kitchen. Things are as normal as ever, which doesn’t surprise Emily when she thinks about it. Hotch generally doesn’t let things get to him, she’s known that as long as they’ve worked together. She imagines that he talked to Jack as he was putting him down for his nap. That must be it, and he assumed Emily was on his same wavelength. Good. Emily wasn’t willing to let this be the thing that drove them, the closest thing she has ever had to a real, functional family.

And that’s the end of it, for a few weeks, anyway. Jack doesn’t call her ‘mom’ again, Hotch doesn’t bring it up, and the three of them are just like normal. Emily’s things slowly assimilate into the environment of the apartment, which she stops thinking of as Hotch’s apartment and more as their apartment. She grows used to walking to work with Hotch in the morning, which she was doing most of the time before anyway. She grows used to getting her coffee from the Starbucks at the end of the block instead of the coffee cart just outside her old apartment, and to taking the train instead of the bus because it’s faster. The one thing she does not grow used to is Hotch. That’s an oversimplification, she accepts his quirks and odd habits, but it’s funny- before they moved in together, Emily thought he might be more forthcoming about his feelings now that he couldn’t just leave when things got heavy. Still, after every argument, big or small, he just smiles that little tight-lipped smile, kisses the top of her head, and pretends like nothing happened.

“You know, Aaron, at some point, you’re going to have to actually resolve an issue instead of just waiting for the argument to fizzle out and then pretend like it didn’t happen,” Emily says one day. She had been bugging him about putting away his go bag in between cases, instead of just leaving it in the living room. They had argued for a few minutes (“It’s a matter of convenience, Em!” “Not really, you’re just being lazy.”) before he had just shook his head and started folding laundry.

“It’s not a big deal, Emily. Move my bag or don’t, I don’t really care either way.” Hotch shrugged, which frustrated her even more.

“Hotch, you can’t be apathetic on every single subject, and you can’t just give up when you get tired of arguing.”

“Why not? These things don’t really matter to me, and when they do, I’m okay compromising.”

“But we’re not compromising, Hotch, you’re just letting me do what I want and taking whatever feelings you have about it and shoving them down and pretending like nothing happened!” He blinks angrily (how that’s even possible, she’s not quite sure), and by now she can tell she’s under his skin.

“Emily, can we not do this? Can we-“ Emily groans and begins pacing.

“Yeah, Hotch, we have to do this! That’s the whole point! You keep saying ‘we’ll do this later’ and then we never do. I want to do this now. Let’s do it, let’s argue, and then when we’re done and we’ve reached an actual conclusion, we won’t have it hanging over our heads!” He stands now too, throwing down the laundry in his hands.

“Because it shouldn’t matter, Emily! I deal with things the way I deal with them, and if you don’t like it, well-“

“Hotch, it’s not me that I’m worried about!” He looks at her, puzzled. “I know you, I’ve known you for years, so I know how you deal with your feelings. And I’m a grown-up, so I can deal with it because I have my own way of dealing with my own feelings.”

“Emily, what the hell is your point?” He’s exasperated, exhausted, and she briefly considers not saying what she wants to say, but still, she says:

“Hotch, what is Jack going to think? If he grows up and instead of seeing his dad express his emotions and deal with his issues, he just sees you push your anger down? What kind of man is he going to grow up to be if he never learns how to feel, because you never taught him?” When she stops pacing and looks back at him, his face has gone deathly still. Narrowing his eyes, he thinks for a minute, and Emily thinks she’s never seen him so angry. Not at her, anyway. It’s a very quiet kind of anger, one that makes her feel cold even though the window is open and it’s 90 degrees outside.

“And why, exactly, do you think you have the right to tell me I’m raising my son wrong? Because, and correct me if I’m wrong, you have no kids. You have never, at any point in time, had kids. You don’t have the right to tell me how to raise my son, because he is my son. My son. His mother was Haley Hotchner, formerly Haley Brooks. She died. Jack is my son, I am his father, and you are not his mother!” Emily stumbles backwards a few steps, her eyes wide. In all the time they’ve been together, in all the time they’ve known each other, he’s raised his voice several times, but never at her. He’s never yelled at her. As soon as he’s finished, he knows what he’s done, he can see it. His hands come up between him and Emily, as if he’s trying to push himself away from her. “Em-“

“No. No.” Emily shakes her head.

“Emily, I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“You meant it.” She shakes her head and doesn’t quite smile. “You meant every word, Hotch. It’s okay.” She goes to grab her sweatshirt, then remembers how hot it is outside. That, more than anything, makes her want to cry. She’s already ruined her cool, clean walk-out now. Chin tucked against her chest, she brushes past his half-hearted efforts to stop her and leaves, not really sure where she’s going. First things first, she’s going to go get coffee from the cart outside her old apartment.

It’s late when Hotch finally finds her. She doesn’t know if he’s been looking for her all day or if he decided to let her have her space, but she has no new texts and no missed calls. She doesn’t turn to look at him when he sits down beside her, but keeps her eyes fixed on the Washington Monument, illuminated against the darkening sky.

“I’m sorry, Em,” he says finally. She doesn’t respond. “Emily, please. Look at me.”

“I’ve been thinking all day about what I would say to you when I saw you next.” Finally, she turned to face him, sharply wiping tears off her cheeks. “And I still have no idea what to say to you.”

“I’m sorry, Emily.”

“You keep saying that. But just because you’re sorry for hurting me doesn’t mean you didn’t mean what you said.” She sniffs, but composed herself. “Hotch, I know I’m not Jack’s mother. I’m not trying to replace Haley. But we’re a family, the three of us. An odd one, but a family. I take care of your son because I love him, and I love you. So while I might not have given birth to him, do not ever diminish the part I’ve taken in raising him since we got together. I’m not trying to replace Haley, but if you want us to live together, if you want me to be in his and in your life, you have to acknowledge that I have an amount of influence in his life, and I have the right to use that influence. I might not be Jack’s real mother, but I am the closest thing he has to a second parent.”

“I know. I was wrong.” Her eyebrows shoot up. Not at any point in her memory has she ever heard Hotch say anything like that. “Look, Em,” he says, hesitantly putting his hand over hers. “Haley is Jack’s mother, and she always will be. But you’re right. I want you to help me raise my son, and I haven’t given you enough credit for all you’ve done in the time we’ve been together. We are a family, and I had no right to tell you that you don’t get a say in his life, because you are his other parent, and if I marry you-“ her head snaps around to face him, eyes wide. “-which I’m not asking you to do now, but I would like to eventually, you will officially be his parent. I’m still hesitant to refer to you as his mother-“

“I don’t want to be his mother! He can have you, and Haley, and me as his parents.”

“And that’s exactly what we’ll do. He loves you, and I love you, and you should get a say in his life. And you were right that I don’t like to deal with my feelings. I’ll... well, I’ll work on that, but I make no promises.”

“That’s okay, Aaron.” She buries her head in his chest. “We have to work together. From now on, we’re a team.” He kisses the top of her head and then rests his chin on her shoulder.

“Agreed. It’s you, me, and Jack from here on out.”

“I’m good with that.” In the dim light from opposite ends of the National Mall, Emily inhales the crisp night air, mixed in with the smell of Hotch’s cologne, and sighs. Her family. It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

This was a really fun (and by that I mean deeply angsty) concept for me, so thank you for reading, and I appreciate any comments/feedback you have on it! Also, if you liked it, if you wouldn’t mind giving it a reblog, I would love it. Thank you!!! 💖

[waejinyoung]

Can’t Swim - EP . 8

Can’t Swim 8

word count: 3.2k+

a/n: you might be questioning where I have been for the past couple of months. I have one word to say that should be a good enough answer. College. I’ve been studying none stop and found no time to write the next episode after university started. The posts will no longer be regular so just keep yourselves updated. Hopefully I will have another 2 episodes up between now and the end of the year at least but don’t quote me on that. I hope you enjoy! 

I’m deeply sorry for my absence again x

warnings: nothing

EP . 1 , EP . 2 , EP . 3 , EP . 4 , EP . 5 , EP . 6 , EP . 7 , EP . 8 , EP . 9

THIRD PERSON POV

The afternoon continued with Y/N and Jinyoung discussing life and getting to know one another whilst Y/N replied to her emails.

“It’s mind b-boggling how you and J-Jackson may have crossed paths back in 2012…” Y/N had just mentioned how she was training for the London 2012 Olympics to compete for swimming.

“Similar to Jackson, I switched career paths and decided to study architecture. Dad wasn’t the biggest fan until he saw the passion and success I had gained in the industry. He soon came to terms with everything.”

“Wow… do you r-regret it at all?” The clock marked 10:30 pm. You guys had been talking for the past 90 mins, getting to know each other.

“I think I regretted not swimming after deciding to study architecture. I didn’t choose to not compete in the Olympics because I no longer liked swimming so I do regret not continuing although I must say, studying architecture might be the most time consuming degree out there. That’s why later on I decided to apply to become a licensed swimming teacher to undergo lessons. I’d be teaching people how to swim whilst fulfilling my love for swimming.”

“Best of both w-worlds, r-right?”

“Exactly.” Y/N had now placed all her work to aside with her back against the wall, legs crossed enveloped into the conversation.

Some seconds went by and Y/N wanted to know about Jinyoung’s initial dreams.

“What about you? Did you always want to be a singer?”

“Always. I took up d-dance lessons when I was around 15. Then went to a-audition and got in to JYPE. That was when I met J-Jaebeom. We actually d-debuted together as a d-duo group called JJProject to later on d-debut with the r-rest of the g-guys as GOT7. Since t-then they’ve been my f-family rather than just my m-members. I think it’s g-getting to the p-point where I might have spent m-more years of my l-life with them then I did without. Time flies…”

“I could definitely sense the brotherly love you guys all have for each other. So how did becoming an actor happen?”

“I r-requested from the c-company to find roles I could take part in a couple years b-back. First it was small roles in small d-dramas and then being c-casted by more known d-directors to p-play bigger roles. All of that has l-led me to play s-second male lead for ‘When My Love Blooms’.”

“When do the episodes start airing?” Y/N had grown eager about Jinyoung’s talents.

“Hold your h-horses… we haven’t e-even started f-filming yet and won’t be until I r-recover… The original airing d-dates will probably be p-pushed f-further.” Jinyoung’s words drifted into a sudden realisation for his career.

“If only-“ Y/N was about to blame herself again.

“We’ve been through this m-multiple times Y/N. None of this is your f-fault so s-stop blaming yourself for t-things you have no c-control over.”

Y/N had her mouth open ready to retaliate but if she had to be honest… she couldn’t be bothered to fight back considering it was now coming up to 11:00 pm.

“Fine.” Y/N yawned and covered her mouth. Work had been extremely busy today especially with all the news floating around now.

“S-someone’s tired.” Jinyoung eyed Y/N’s tired state and decided to call it a night.

“I still have so much to do. I can’t fall asleep now.”

“C-could you n-not spare an e-early n-night just for t-today?” Y/N recollected her thoughts weighing up if she could possibly sleep early tonight and get all the work done tomorrow.

“I could…”

“Problem s-solved then. Clear up your b-bed and get your pjs on. I d-don’t want to f-face a t-tired Y/N tomorrow m-morning.” Y/N eyed your mean comment and huffed to your orders.

“Yes, sir.”

2 WEEKS LATER

Y/N’s POV

“Miss, Jinyoung has been recovering quicker than expected. He should be perfectly fine to attend the event. If anything unsettling happens you can give me a direct phone call.”

“Thank you so much Doc.” You gave the doctor a large smile and she reciprocated a reassuring smile.

You entered Jinyoung’s room with your outfit for the architecture awards festival along with you.

“Am I allowed to come?” Jinyoung asked as soon as you entered the room. You gave him a nod.

Jinyoung’s voice was more or less back to 100% and his eye had completed healed by the end of last week. There wasn’t much left until being fully recovered. Possibly parting from the hospital quicker than the original 2 months the doctor had estimated.

“I knew I’d get the green light. I even prepared my outfit because I was so sure I’d be able to come.” You hadn’t seen someone so ecstatic for an awards festival.

“As expected… I’m not even surprised. Will you be able to get dressed? Need any of my help?” Jinyoung was still a little instable since he’s been lying in bed for the past 2 weeks. His legs tend to give out for the first 30 mins.

“I think I can manage. I’ll get dressed quickly and then the bathroom is all yours.” You chuckled at his assumption that you’ll take really long in the bathroom for the event.

Jinyoung heads towards the bathroom and you are left there practising a speech you’ve written for all the awards you and your company have been nominated. This isn’t because you knew you were going to win any of them but… the unprofessional scenes if you guys were to win an award and to not have a speech ready daunted you. There was nothing wrong with being prepared.

15 MINUTES LATER

You must say… I don’t think you had ever laid eyes on someone so handsome in your life before. You could swear that this man was carved by God himself.

“How much deeper are you going to fall into my looks?” You hadn’t realised but you had been staring Jinyoung up and down for the past 30 seconds of him leaving the bathroom. Hair all styled. The suit was literally made for him. His cute bow tie was a little wonky leading you to let out a chuckle.

“What?” Jinyoung’s face turned serious thinking something was wrong with how he looked.

“Your bowtie is wonky.” You stood up from your seat and reached out to fix his bowtie. Your eyes were fixated in straightening the bowtie and all Jinyoung could do was analyse your face and how focussed you were.

“There you go. Looks better now.” You lightly let go off the tie and looked up at Jinyoung who was already staring right back at you. Those bambi eyes were going to be the death of you.

“Thank you. Now go and get yourself ready.” He pinched your nose and then you entered the bathroom with your dress, makeup bag and accessories.

20 MINUTES LATER

“Jinyoung~~” You called out for Jinyoung. You were done with everything but couldn’t reach the zipper on the back of your dress. You had been procrastinating on what to do and just gave up. There’s no way you could zip the dress up alone.

“Yes, Y/N. Is everything alright?” You could hear his footsteps come closer to the bathroom door.

“In a bit of sticky situation… could I ask you to do a favour?”

“Sure, what is it?” You went ahead and unlocked the door for him. He took a step back and couldn’t contain the sight in front of him. You were in a red bandeau strapless dress which had a structured skirt that was shorter at the front and longer at the back with. A very slight trail. Unsurprisingly your makeup was the bare minimum and you had left your natural hair out. His mouth was agape as you stepped out of the bathroom.

“How much longer are you going to stare for Mr Park?” He had been in the same awe you was when he had stepped out of the bathroom earlier on.

“Yes…right… the favour?” His soul re-entered his body trying to compose himself. You could only smile on the effect you had on the prince himself.

“I can’t reach my zipper, could you zip up the back of my dress for me?” You saw his cheeks blush a light pink below the thin layer of bb cream he had on. Without the zip done neither of you were going anywhere so he had to do it.

He wasn’t able to give a verbal response and just nodded. You turned around to have your back facing Jinyoung. He moved your hair to aside exposing half of your back to him. He was blushing so hard right now and was happy to have you facing away from him even though in a matter of seconds you’d be facing him seeing the shades of red planted on his cheeks. Jinyoung gently placed one hand on the zipper and the other hand on your back holding the fabric of your dress still. His fingers grazed your skin and they were a little cold leading you to jolt a little by the surprising cool touch. He notices.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was a little worried. The slightest worrying reaction you make, and he’s so concerned. He’s too sweet.

“Nope, your hands are just a little cold that’s all.” You say whilst you chuckle.

He apologises with his soothing voice and zips up the dress, letting out a quiet done when finished.

You turn back round and thank him for his kind gesture. You also noticed the flush of his cheeks. He’s so cute, you thought. You quickly put your heels on and left Jinyoung’s patient room and entered the hall of the hospital. Expectedly, you guys received some stares and some whistles by the old women sitting outside their patient rooms. The event manager had organised a limousine to pick up each nominee for the awards hence why there was a lovely jet black limousine parked at the entrance of the hospital. The driver spotted you two and guided you the way and kept the door open for you two to enter the fancy vehicle. He ran back to the wheel and started driving towards the venue.

“Anything I need to know beforehand? Who should I present myself as?” Jinyoung had started with the questions during the car drive.

“Who’d you like to present yourself as Jinyoung?” You wanted to fish out his intentions from him.

“Preferably your boyfriend in order to stop those punks from hitting on you but I’d never want to force you into a relationship with me…” He side eyed you as he kept looking out the window. You so wanted him to be your boyfriend.

“Logical. Agreed. If anyone asks, you’re my boyfriend.”

“What an honour.” You slap his thigh due to his sarcastic tone.

“Whatttt? I’m serious. I’m going to be the boyfriend of an amazingly talented architect who’s bound to receive an award tonight. It’s a genuine privilege.” You could only look at him in awe as he described the so called ‘privilege’ he was taking part of.

“If you say so…”

The humming noise from the motor of the limousine was really calming but Jinyoung broke the silence once again.

“Are you nervous?” His tone was much deeper and serious compared to how he was a second ago.

“A little. These awards happen once a year and we’ve progressed so much as a company but so has everyone else in the industry. It’s hard to tell if we’ll be receiving the major validation from the institute. With or without the award tonight I’m so pleased with my company, but it would be nice to get a recognisable achievement for all our hard work.” Jinyoung listened to you as you let out your insecurities for the upcoming night.

“In the little amount of time I’ve met you, I think you’re the only person who deserves all the awards you’ve been nominated for this year. No one can change my thoughts and it’s going to be a pleasure to witness your achievement first hand. I can’t wait.” He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles trying to calm your nerves down. It was going to be a long night.

30 MINUTES LATER

Your limousine had rocked up to the red carpet laid out on the floor outside of the venue of the awards. You took a deep breath as the driver ran around to Jinyoung’s side of the limousine to let him out. Jinyoung agreed to open your door for you so he exited the vehicle first. Like he had planned, he went around to your side and opened the door for you to step out. The cameras started capturing every single moment as you wrapped your arm around Jinyoungs, and he gave you a reassuring nod. You gave him a smile and the two of you walked towards the entrance of the building slowly as you waved to the cameras and press greeting the two of you. The cameras were close to blinding, but you pulled through until reaching the entrance where the bodyguard escorted the two of you to your spaces in the main hall.

The building was full of white and gold decorations. You could definitely tell that the theme was highly influenced by Greek culture. The budget of the awards keep growing as the number of sponsors increase. The bodyguard escorted you to the table that Beck was already sat at with his fiancé. Beck realised your presence as well as Jinyoung. He stood up to give you a hug and shook Jinyoung’s hand. Beck’s fiancé shook both of your hands too and took your seats.

“The famous Mr Park. It’s nice to meet you in person. I’m Beck, the other shareholder.” Beck gave Jinyoung a warm smile.

“It’s nice to meet you to Beck. It seems like you already know of my name, but I’ll reiterate for the norm. My name is Park Jinyoung, you can call me just Jinyoung.” You let out a scoff because of how formal Jinyoung was being with Beck.

“He’s younger than you so you can ignore the formalities.” You said to Jinyoung and then Beck and him opened the conversation about age and their Chinese zodiac signs.

The evening began at 7:30 pm with the award winners due to be announced at 9:00 pm. Until then there was butterflies in your stomach ready to be set free any minute now.

Jinyoung came closer to your ear and whispered, “Loosen up a little. There’s no need to be this tense. Here hold my hand.”

Jinyoung offered his hand and you took it immediately as he gestured his open palm. Your hands were tiny compared to his manly hands. They encompassed all your digits giving you’re a sigh of relief because of the security they exerted. You let out a large sigh and continued with the discussions on your table with the new clients that were interested in your company. Having Jinyoung at the event really helped scare away the useless men who would only be interested in your physique and nothing more. His presence filtered out all the nonsense that would usually be taking place at the table.

The clock finally struck 9:00 pm and everyone went back to their designated seats in order for the awards to be presented. The event holder went through all the minor rookie awards to then move onto the company categories.

“Here are the nominees for Best Project of the Year.” The event holder signalled to the larger screen behind him as the nominees including your company are mentioned in no specific order.

“I was personally really fond of this project myself too. The meaning behind the design and the immense detail put into the façade really makes me excited for the future of this company. I’ll stop blabbing on and open the envelope.” You looked at Beck and then back at Jinyoung who was really eager to know the result.

“The award for Best Project of the Year goes to…” The event holder lifts the flap of the envelope and takes out the white sheet of paper inside. You hold your breath waiting for the result to be spoken.

“The Chamberlain project, designed and constructed by Chevrel Architects.” The whole community around your table started roaring and cheering for you and Beck to claim the award. That was one award written down in the books for Chevrel Architects, a company you and Beck had started years back. You and Beck had decided that if this award was given to you guys then he’d give the speech for it. Beck was the reason for the Chamberlain project happening and hands down you could state it was because of him the project turned out well. You, Jinyoung and everyone else in the hall stood up clapping as Beck walked up to the stage and shook hands with the event holder along with receiving the award. He then walked up to the mic and started his speech.

“I’d like to first start off with a large thank you to everyone at Chevrel Architects. The amount of hard work that was put into the Chamberlain project is indescribable, without everyone’s help it wouldn’t have been possible to achieve such a great outcome. I’d like to also thank Y/N for coming on this journey with me and trusting in me when I said that this company will create its own legacy. This is only the beginning…” Beck continued to thank more or less everyone he knew and came to an end with another roaring applause by everyone.

He jogged back to your table and you admired the award he placed on the table. You felt Jinyoung squeeze your hand in encouragement for you to realise how much you guys are capable of although he still knew you were a little iffy because the individual architect awards hadn’t been announced yet. You couldn’t help but smile at the gleaming object right before your eyes. Having received this award you doubted that another award would be given to someone of the same company.

Minutes went by and the event holder had reached the most awaited award of the night. Architect of the Year. You were surprised that you hadn’t left to use the restroom to throw up all this anxiety already. You were so ready to go home and relax. You wanted your normal heart rate back. You looked at Jinyoung and he gave you a look that melted your heart in seconds. He started massaging your knuckles with his thumb again and you could feel your body ease into his touch. The event holder for the last time of the night directs our attention to the screen for the listing of the nominees. Beck unfortunately wasn’t nominated so he was rooting for you to win the award.

“I know for many of you this is probably the most important part of the night. I’d like to first mention that to be able to be nominated for this award is ana achievement in itself so, you architects should all be proud of yourselves. It was a very hard decision that the committee made but we were able to make a decision. The award for Architect of the Year goes to…”

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I think it was mean of me to have ended this episode here, but it is 2:30 am right now as I write this episode. I hope you guys liked this episode. I shall be back somewhat soon so make sure to come back to check if an episode has been uploaded. Like always let me know your opinions on the story line and check out the other episodes if you haven’t. It would be nice to get some feedback :)

See you next time

writer-nim x

[asifetch7]

Nameless - Chapter 1: Welcome to club ‘Downtown’.

Genre: Mafia AU, gang AU, BTS

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader, BTS x Reader, BTS x BTS

Warnings: Cursing. Gang violence. Gun violence. Kidnapping. Angst. Future fluff. Future smut. Referenced suicide attempt.

—— Summery

Marco Polo is an Italian Korean gang that traveled through Asia and eventually settled in South-Korea. It is known for its multiple locations around the world with the three main ones in Sicily, Tokyo and now Seoul. Their name is of course inspired by Marco Polo, but also the radioactive chemical Polonium.

Their members are poisonous, according to Yoongi at least. Poisonous little fuckers who always appear when you least expect it. Marco Polo and Bangtan have been at each other's throat ever since the Italian gang decided to stay in Seoul. After the last gang war ended in a truce he thought he’d seen the last of them but as Yoongi steps into club Downtown he will come to find out that that can’t be further from the truth.

—— 

previous//one//next

“I just don’t understand why I need to be present for this meeting Namjoon.” Yoongi sighed as he looked from the window to his adviser on his left. He really wasn’t looking forward to discussing a new contract with one of his dealers. “It’s necessary for them to see that you’re not just working behind the scènes Yoongi. You haven’t shown your face in quite awhile. If you keep doing that some people will start to doubt your leadership,” Namjoon calmly explained.

Jimin huffed. “Which idiots are stupid enough to doubt him?” He asked while fixing the knife in his thigh holster. “The Carters, Youngs, Lees and Polos.” Taehyung summed up from the driver's seat. Jimin turned sideways to hit him on the shoulder. “We don’t talk about the Polos. Plus, we have a truce so why would they even bother?” “Don’t play dumb, Jiminie, a truce doesn’t mean shit if the other party looks weak,” Taeyhung stated.

Yoongi closed his eyes. “Can we not talk about the Polos for one night, please?” He asked as they pulled up to club ‘Downtown’. The guys grew silent. He took that as a yes and opened his door.

Jimin groaned as he stepped out of the car. “Eugh, these heels are going to give me ingrown toenails.” He put his right hand on Yoongi’s shoulder to keep himself from falling over while he tried to adjust his shoes. “Should’ve chosen a different pair then doll face,” Yoongi teased. The look Jimin gave him was anything but pleased. “These were the only ones that go with this outfit that YOU gave me, mister. So if I want to complain about the fact that the only pair that matched is too small, than you better prepare yourself for an earful.”

Grinning fondly at the assassin’s behavior Namjoon grabbed a bag from the trunk of the car and started walking away.

The group made their way to the cashier who stood right outside the doors of the club. “Name”, he asked without looking up.

“Agust D.”

That made the head of the boy shoot up immediately. Yoongi reveled in the way only a few letters could make people surrender to him. “King D, sir, my apologies.” The boy bowed a full 90 degrees and quickly signaled for the guards to open the doors.

They walked into the establishment and were immediately welcomed by a hostess dressed in a formal uniform. “Welcome to ‘Downtown’ King D, how can I help you and your party tonight?” She asked after bowing her head.

When she looked up her eyes dragged over Jimin’s form. He could almost hear the judgemental thoughts moving around inside her head and it really made him want to roll his eyes. Sadly, he had a reputation to maintain and they were here for business, not for petty fights.

“I have someone waiting for me at my usual booth.” Yoongi’s gruff voice snapped her attention back to him. She bowed again and started to lead the way. “Follow me then, please.”

“King D, welcome!” The dealer said loudly as he stood from the couch to move to one of the stools. Yoongi looked at him and already wanted to turn back around to go home. He really wasn’t looking forward to this.

“Thank you, Jung right?” He asked as he sat himself down with Jimin glued to his site. Jaehyun stuttered as his eyes landed on Jimin. “Yea-yes, Jung Jaehyun sir, from NCT.”

Namjoon joined Yoongi’s other side and laid the bag under the table. “I heard you wanted to discuss some adjustments for your contract with us?” “Yes, I have a ton of ideas and Taeyong said if I wanted them to happen I needed to talk to you.” Yoongi hummed and nodded towards Taehyung to close the curtains.

Always best to watch out for eavesdroppers.

-

“This here is your locker and you can find your clothing on the rack over there.” The manager of ‘Downtown’ pointed towards a neatly organized set of shelves at the left side of the room. “Your shift starts in thirty minutes so you should have enough time to choose a costume and get changed.”

You thanked him for the quick tour of the place and made your way to the clothes. “Oh, Yugyeom-nim-” “You can just call me Yugyeom, Ruby.” “Yugyeom ssi, is there a theme I should follow?”

The manager glanced around the room in thought and then looked you in the eyes. “I want them to cum in their pants the second they lay their eyes on you,” he deadpanned. You laughed, shaking your head and waved him away.

He moved to open the door, “Make me proud tonight Ruby.” With that he left the room.

You sighed as you grabbed a few items and went into one of the changing rooms. The small room had mirrors on all three walls which made it easy to get a full view of your body. After struggling with the thigh high socks and screwing up your make-up three times, you finally looked at yourself. Damn, if this doesn’t do the job then I might as well go home.

You had chosen to go with an innocent, white angel look and it wasn’t even half bad. The lingerie fitted you perfectly and the heels, even though highly uncomfortable, really pushed the picture of purity you were looking for.

Looking at the clock you saw that you only had five minutes left. You grabbed a pill from your make-up bag and put it in the small pocket of your robe. With one final glance in the mirror you let your mind fall into your character and walked out of the room.

The red ruby on your neck seemed to shine as it reflected the lights from the stage. Your red lips moved into a charming smile when you spotted your target sitting in a private booth.

Let’s get this mission accomplished.

-

Resisting the urge to yawn Jimin forced himself to look around. He couldn’t see much because of the curtains but he could still make out the bar. Yes, that’s exactly what he needed to get through this dull meeting.

Alcohol.

He tapped Yoongi on the shoulder and leaned towards his ear. “Hey, I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?” Yoongi kissed him on the cheek. “You know what I want dollface.”

Nodding, Jimin got out of the booth and walked to the bar where you were standing with Jackson.

“Ruby, I’m serious. Just one date, please?” Jackson pouted at you. Laughing softly you shook your head at him. “The answer always has been and will forever be no Jackson.”

“Pretty, pretty, pretty please?” He whined. “Why would you even want to go on a date with me? You’ve got like half of the female population after your ass,” you said as you pointed towards some girls ogling at him from the end of the bar. He looked at you with puppy eyes.

“But you’re the only one I want to actually capture it. I mean look at you,” his demeanor changed as his eyes roamed over your body from head to toe. “Who wouldn’t want you chasing their behind?”

You grabbed your tray from the counter to hit him with, only to be interrupted by a giggle from your right.

“I mean he’s kind of right. You look gorgeous.” A voice said as you turned around.

Wow.

The guy in front of you could only be described as an ethereal being. He looked like one of those Greek gods from the paintings that your teacher always wanted you to analyze. A Korean Greek god? Maybe even a goddess considering the way he was dressed.

“Thank you but I look rather bland in comparison to you.” You nodded towards his dress and he smiled brightly. “It looks really pretty on you and does amazing things for your thighs.” You emphasized. He looked down and flexed his muscle making you both giggle.

“Yes, yes, you’re both extremely hot but Rubyyyy,” Jackson continued to whine, “you still haven’t answered my question.” Rolling your eyes you turned back around. “No Jackson. There ya have it. A simple, direct no.” He began pouting again.

“How many more times are you going to ask me out?” You asked as you put the tray back on the counter. “As many times as it takes for you to say yes.” He smiled sweetly. “Eugh, I’m done with you. Serve some drinks so I can do my job.” “I thought your job was to shake what your momma gave ya and make it rain.” You glared at him but before you could do any serious damage to his body a hand got placed on the counter.

“I’d actually like to order a few drinks for table P3.” You looked at Jimin from the corner of your eye and thanked him silently with a smile. “Sure thing hotstuff, which beverages do you desire?” Scoffing at the nickname Jimin ordered a few drinks. He winked at you before he walked away, swaying to the beat of the music.

“Now THAT is an ass worth chasing Jackson.” You smirked teasingly. He watched your eyes follow Jimin to his booth. “I wouldn’t try that if I were you, no one can touch the gem of Bangtan.” Your head snapped to him and he laughed at your expression. “Come again? Bangtan is sitting there?” He nodded his head. “I think even King D is present, something about making appearances.”

This mission just got a whole lot more complicated.

“Take this to them will ya?” Jackson asked as he placed the ordered drinks on your tray. You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself before grabbing the tray and walking towards what could be your final job.

-

“... and that’s why I think either the dosage needs to become higher or the price needs to go lower.” Yoongi just catched the end of Jaehyun’s speech. Maybe he should’ve payed more attention to it but it didn’t matter anyway, the things he was asking for were just ridiculous.

“Listen, Jung, I respect you coming here and actually asking for those kind of changes in person.” The dealer’s face lit up and he saw that his chest puffed out a little in pride. “However,” Yoongi looked him in the eyes and saw Jaehyun’s posture crumble from his cold stare, “upping the dosages of my drugs? Lowering the prices? You’ve got to have some serious balls to even think of such absurd ideas.”

He was really regretting coming here and wasting a perfectly good evening on this bullshit.

So when he saw Taehyung opening the curtains he kind of hoped someone had called him in for an emergency. Sadly, that wasn’t the truth. “Boss, your drinks are here.” He signaled to let them in. A squeal was heard from beside him and he looked at Jimin with confusion written all over his face. He knew he loved alcohol but was it truly worth all that noise?

“Ruby!” He half-shouted in his excitement. You looked up at the call of your name and smiled at Jimin when you saw him making grabby hands for the Raspberry Cosmopolitan in your hand. He thanked you when you handed the sweet drink to him. “Your an actual angel, darling.” He said gratefully after taking a generous sip.

“I’ve got a Gin Negroni,” Namjoon put his hand up and you placed the drink in front of him, “and a Black Russian.” You glanced at Yoongi and saw him roam his eyes over your body. After placing the drink on the table you stood back up. You could still feel his eyes on you as you turned to walk away.

“What? No drink for me sweet cheeks?” Jaehyun asked as he pulled at the strings of your robe, making it fall open. You heard a barely contained scuff from Jimin. “I’m sorry baby but this was all that was ordered,” you said with a sugary sweet voice. He pouted at you.

“Could you at least keep me some company then? Cause I’m still quite thirsty and you look like a fine, tall glass of water.”

Oh honey, no.

You tried not to feel disgusted with yourself as you forced a giggle out of your mouth. “Well, if you insist.”

Yoongi watched as you put down your tray and sat sideways on the dealer’s lap who looked like a kid on Christmas morning. You laid your left arm around his shoulders and started tracing figures on his chest with your right hand.

“What’s your name pretty?” Jaehyun asked breathlessly as you moved around trying to find a comfortable spot in his lap, putting pressure on his groin. “They call me Ruby,” you purred in his ear, “what do you go by, hmm, daddy?” He tightened his hold on your thigh and smirked. “It’s Jung Jaehyun, baby, but you can call me anything you want in that outfit of yours.”

What about an extremely repulsive asshole?

Instead of voicing your thoughts you just giggled again and fluttered your eyelashes at him. “I think I’ll keep calling you daddy then.” You moved to straddle his lap but were interrupted by a cough.

“Jung, do you want to keep talking or are you gonna keep wasting my time?” Yoongi said, grabbing his drink and sipping it slowly. Jimin was already done with his Cosmopolitan and just started eyeing the flower design on your lingerie. Namjoon was on his phone, probably looking for other meetings or events where he needed to be present. Taehyung still stood outside the curtains, hands behind his back.

Yoongi had other ideas for where he could place them but he was still sitting on this stupid couch, talking to someone who clearly wasn’t interested in selling his ideas anymore.

God, what a fucking merry dance.

His annoyed tone seemed to grab Jaehyun’s attention though and the dealer quickly pulled your arm from his neck, shooting you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry baby but I’ve gotta do some business.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. This guy really thought he was a big deal, didn’t he?

“Really?” You asked with pouting lips. Jaehyun nodded and padded your ass to get you off his lap. You stood up and slipped your hands in your robe. “Let me give you one of my goodbye kisses then, daddy.” He grinned and pulled you back by your wrist. “I would gladly receive one of those angel.” You giggled and grabbed his face in your hands.

You started with little kisses on his throat, slipping the pill out of your left hand and right into your mouth. Then you kissed him passionately and invaded his mouth with your tongue when he groaned.

The pill on your tongue was easily delivered in the back of the target’s throat. You prolonged the kiss to keep him distracted before finally pulling away. It all happened in a matter of seconds. Jaehyun swallowed when your lips moved from his. You smiled sweetly at him and stood up from his lap, gathering the empty glasses on your tray.

Yoongi catched your eye and you saw the lust floating around behind them. You turned your back to him and walked towards the curtains, giving your target one last sultry glance. He was still watching you with rapt attention. Taehyung opened the curtains for you and you laughed softly as you stept out of their booth.

Enjoy the ride, boys.

-

“So, where were we gentleman?” Jaehyun asked as he not-so-subtly tried to rearrange his pants. “I was about to send you home with a broken finger, rib or toe. Your choice.” Yoongi said as he sipped the last of his Black Russian, not looking bothered by his statement at all.

The dealer on the other hand choked on air and dropped to his knees immediately. “I’m so sorry if I offended you sir. Please accept my deepest apologies. I was a fool to ask for such idiotic changes.” He rushed to say while bowing with his head on the ground. A laugh escaped Yoongi as he stood up, only to crouch down in front of the guy. “You see Jung, the changes aren’t really the issue here. Sure, it was still stupid to even ask but I won’t let Jimin  dismantle your bones for that.”

He looked back at the mentioned assassin and was met with a wicked smile.

“The problem is the fact that you let a woman interrupt your business deal like that. I don’t think Taeyong will be very happy with that when he finds out. You also disregarded my warning when I asked you to stop wasting my time.” He stood back up with a groan. “Instead of sending her away, like I expected you to do, you gave her a ‘goodbye kiss’. Quite a show if I may add, but that doesn’t change the fact that you did it in front of me. In front of my crew. A crew that has better things to do than watch you french an escort.”

“Hey, don’t call Ruby an escort,” Jimin complained softly from behind him. “She’s really sweet.” Yoongi turned around and gave him an unimpressed look. “You really want to argue about that right now dollface?” Jimin huffed and crossed his arms but said nothing. “Thought so.”

“Euhm, boss?” Namjoon asked, concern clear in his voice. “What?” Yoongi said as he turned back around to the dealer still on the floor. “Oh, that’s not good.”

Jaehyun lay sprawled out in a small puddle of blood and… Is that foam? Yoongi took a step closer to see where the substance was coming from. He didn’t find any marks on the body but when the dealer started choking his attention went to his mouth and that’s when he saw it.

A mixture of blood, spit and foam was slowly making its way onto the ground. “Any idea why this is happening Namjoon?” He asked while stepping back to join Jimin who was now standing near the curtains. “No, he just started bleeding from his mouth I guess.” “You guess? Are you serious?” Namjoon glared at him. “He had his head on the ground the entire time, what do you expect from me? Being able to look through his skull to see what’s happening?”

“Taehyung, get in here,” Yoongi called. The captain quickly made his way inside. His eyes looked around the room before landing on the dying man in front of him. “Planned, accident or not involved?” Was the only thing he asked as he looked at Yoongi. “Not involved so the only option is that escort Ruby. Shutdown the whole club. I don’t want anyone going in or out until we have her in our possession.”

Taehyung nodded and went back outside while conversing with someone through his earpiece.

Yoongi let out a heavy sigh. “This night just keeps on being really fucking annoying.” Jimin looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “It will be alright baby. We’ll be in bed before you know it.” “I hope you’re ready to say goodbye to your sweet Ruby.” He said. “Honestly if she did it I don’t even hold it against her,” Jimin shrugged. “That guy was just disrespectful and nasty.” He stuck his tongue out making Yoongi laugh.

“True, but I don’t like the fact that she did it so close to us. What if she plans to do something to one of us in the future? I’d rather not die while foaming from the mouth.” He grabbed Jimin’s hand and made his way out of the booth. Namjoon took the bag out from under the table and followed after them.

They all halted their steps when Taehyung’s voice made itself present in their ears.

“Got her.”

This night was far from over.

-

Exiting the booth you focused on maintaining a normal walking pace. You placed the tray with empty glasses on the counter and waved your hand at Jackson. “Hey, I’m going to reapply my makeup for a second.” He nodded at you. “Sure thing.”

After slamming the door of the dressing room behind you and leaning against it, you finally felt like you could breathe.

Okay, y/n, calm down.

You took a deep breath and started to change into your black outfit. It was still classy enough to not stand out in the club crowd but since it was completely black you could easily disappear in the dead of night.

Looking around the room you spotted an empty trashcan. You grabbed your angel outfit and threw it in there with the content of one of the many perfume bottles on the dresser. Lighting up a few matches you tossed them in one by one, watching as the fire consumed the white lace.

Bye-bye, sweet angel.

When you opened the door you were met with chaos. Turns out that little drug Lisa sold you worked faster than you thought. You quickly made your way towards the emergency exit, vanishing from sight between panicked clubgoers. With one foot outside of the door your mind already started celebrating pulling off another mission unnoticed.

Since your mind was elsewhere occupied, it didn’t give out alarm signals for the figure watching you from the shadows.

You were just a few meters away from the club when you were harshly pulled into an alley. Out of reflex your legs instantly kicked out at whoever was trying to get you off of the street. You heard a groan coming from your attacker and tried to turn around but the hold they had on you was too tight.

Suddenly you felt an enormous pain in your stomach which made you double over. “Motherfucker.” You coughed as you tried to regain balance. Your attacker didn’t give you a chance though as they punched your jaw hard, making your vision go black. The last thing you heard was a low, honeyed voice.

“Got her.”

...

When you woke up all you could see was…

Nothing.

You couldn’t see shit. Everything was dark. Black. Unlit. You tried moving your hands but were met with resistance. The same happened when you struggled to separate your feet. Wiggling your body was all you could do so you tried to move around a bit.

Out of nowhere you were swerved to the right. The sudden movement made your body hurl itself against the side of something hard.

Great, they threw me in the trunk.

So wiggling like a fish was of no use and trying to figure out where you were, was also useless since you didn’t know how long you were out for. What you did know, was that you were attacked in an alley back at Downtown, got knocked out and thrown in the trunk of a car driven by some lunatic.

Seriously, who swerves this fucking much?

As you closed your eyes again, you could only hope that your kidnappers would soon arrive at their location.

-

“Tell me why we let Joonie drive again?” Jimin asked as he fell on Yoongi for the tenth time. “Because while Tae was busy putting Ruby in the trunk and you and I were talking to Jackson, he decided to get in the driver’s seat,” Yoongi said. “Like the genius he is,” he added, sarcasm filling every word.

“Oh shut up,” Namjoon hissed, “it’s not that bad.” Taehyung laughed loudly. “You almost make me pity the poor woman. I hope for her that she’s still knocked out.”

Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s hand, making him look his way. “Do you really think she did it?” He asked seriously. “Afraid so, love. You saw the footage. I don’t know how she did it, but I think we’ll find out tonight.” Jimin nodded and started drawing patterns on his hand.

“I’m sorry, dollface. I thought this would be a calm night.” Yoongi said as he kissed Jimin’s cheek. “It’s okay, we can go back to the club another time. Let’s just say you owe me a peaceful night.” He shrugged. Yoongi smirked at him. “I don’t think any night with you would be described as peaceful.”

Jimin giggled and pulled his face towards him to place a sweet peck on his lips. It turned into a passionate kiss quickly, making both of them smile.

“I’d hate to interrupt you two, but we’ve got a woman to interrogate.” Namjoon said as he drove into the garage of the gang’s mansion.

“Let’s get this night over with boys.”

-

The second time you opened your eyes the light situation hadn’t changed. Your limbs were still tied together but this time you weren’t rolling around in the back of a car. This time you were sitting up on an uncomfortable, solid chair.

Your ears picked up a few voices speaking in Korean, voices that you recognized.

“If she doesn’t wake up in the next minute I’m emptying this bottle over her head.”

“Agust, no, what did that champagne ever do to you?”

“We’ve got enough of these in our stock, dollface, I will just grab another one for you.”

Bangtan. Your kidnappers were Bangtan.

You can work with that y/n.

You coughed and the voices immediately stopped talking.

Yoongi turned around with the champagne bottle still in his hand. The girl, Ruby, was tied to a chair in front of him. He couldn’t see her eyes because of the blindfold, but her head was aimed straight towards him.

“Did y’all disappear or something? Thought I was about to be showered with expensive champagne.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to Ruby?” He asked, trying to keep his tone cold and low.

She tilted her head. “Not really. Don’t know if you’ve noticed but my eyesight is kind of blocked at the moment.”

Jimin giggled softly and quickly covered his mouth when Yoongi glared at him. “Sorry, sorry,” he whispered with a smile.

Yoongi signaled to Taehyung to remove the blindfold. He yanked it off her head and threw it to the side before standing next to her chair. Her eyes went to him first and then focused on the couple in front of her.

He saw her eyes widen as they found Jimin’s. “Oh, hi, I remember you cutie.” She smiled at him and Jimin…

Jimin blushed. He fucking blushed from a nickname of one of their captives.

“That must make you, euhmm, King D?” She asked him.

He looked at her again. “Yes.”

She laughed, making Yoongi even more confused than he already was.

“King D. What does that stand for, King Dickface? King Dipshit? King Deficiente?” She completely cracked up at this point.

Yoongi grabbed her jaw and squeezed it tightly until she stopped laughing. “What’s about to happen to you is not very funny, Ruby, so I’d try to keep my mouth shut if I were you,” he said. Ruby yanked her head out of his grip and looked at him. “Fine, I won’t laugh but let me just say that you should really change your name.”

“I don’t think I will, seeing as it’s feared all around the world,” he stated. There was a tiny bit of pride noticeable in his voice. He worked hard to get to the point where just his name made people crumble. Yoongi often wondered if the sacrifices he made were all worth it but those thoughts would only lead him on a path of doubts he’d rather not walk. Usually he got sidetracked by alcohol or sex before he could get stuck in the vicious circle of what if’s.

“Feared by the entire world? Was that really what you wanted to be when you were a child?” She asked him with a sudden note of seriousness in her tone. He looked away as he thought about it. “If I wanted to talk about my childhood I would’ve snatched a therapist and not an escort.”

Ruby scoffed at that. “Escort? If you wanted to have sex you could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah? Like how that dead guy asked for a goodbye kiss? I don’t think he knew how literal you would take it,” Yoongi said.

He watched her patiently, waiting for a reaction that would show she was guilty and indeed killed Jung Jaehyun.

For awhile she just looked at him. Studying him as he studied her.

“He asked for a goodbye kiss and I gave him one,” she eventually said. “I don’t understand what that has to do with you kidnapping me and since it’s getting quite late I would like to know what you want from me.”

“Let’s start with your name,” Yoongi said. This could become interesting, he thought as he sat down besides Jimin on the couch opposite of the girl.

“Ruby.”

“No, I don’t believe that’s your name. Well, it’s your stage name or whatever it is called that you escorts use. I want to know your real name.”

“Ruby,” she answered again.

“It’s gonna be like that, huh?” Yoongi asked. The girl stayed still and blinked at him with uninterested eyes, clearly not anticipating his next move. He nodded his head towards Taehyung, who slowly took out his gun and pointed it at her head.  She turned her head towards Taehyung and winked at him.

“Colt Python, lovely choice.”

Taehyung stayed silent and just stared at her.

“No? Nothing? You don’t really talk much. A bit rude to ignore the person you punched in the gut but you do you, I guess.” She shrugged and turned her head back to Yoongi.

Jimin was still watching her from the couch, listening to the conversation. He saved all the information she gave away in his head. So far he didn’t have much but she had to be part of some type of gang. She knew who they were, had obvious knowledge of weapons and was definitely trained in some type of martial arts if the way Taehyung had been limping was anything to go by.

“So, King Douche, I don’t think I’m here to have a cup of tea with you and discuss this weeks latest gossip. Could you get on with it and tell me how I offended the man who is feared around the world?” She asked with her words full of sarcasm.

Yoongi decided to take another route. Just being in their presence didn’t seem to be effective but threatening one's life always did the trick.

"I could kill you right now, you know? So I'd watch that pretty mouth of yours sweetheart."

"Kay? The ability to kill me is nothing impressive and it's also not the best threat, you wanna know why, handsome?"

She fluttered her eyelashes at him and tilted her head slightly to the right, becoming the perfect picture of innocence. God, the things Yoongi could do to destroy that he thought as he scoffed loudly.

"Yes, I would love to know how this does not look like a threat to you," he said, smiling to himself as Taehyung placed the barrel of his gun against her temple.

"It's cause my neighbors could kill me if they wanted to, the cute bartender from Downtown could too, hell even I could kill myself. Believe it or not I tried to, but as you can see my attempts have been rather futile."

She stared him right in the eyes and Yoongi felt himself get lost in those green pools of every emotion but the one he expected. He saw no fear, distress, surprise or even anger. Not even disgust. No, it was hard to get an idea of what was going on behind the windows to her soul. Did she even have one? Because having a soul meant having a mind, a mind that's supposed to be able to think rationally. A mind that's supposed to be giving signals to her body that she is in danger right now.

Still, all he saw was mischief, courage, calmness, even boredom. Boredom of all things. The girl had a fucking gun to her head, was tied down to a chair with nowhere to go and she had the audacity to look bored.

She took him out of his thoughts when he started seeing her mouth move again, tongue rolling around to create syllables to words no one had ever dared to speak to him.

"Killing doesn't make you powerful because anyone can do it. Even a little kid could take a knife in their hands and push it somewhere in to your body. It's the ones that survive that knife you need to watch out for. As the brilliant Kelly Clarkson once said: 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger'."

"I don't think you got the point though, sweetheart. All the power in this room right now belongs to me. I-"

"No, it doesn't and no, I most certainly did get the point. I know that you call the shots here but that's exactly it. After you let blondie over here shoot me, I go on my merry way to meet dear old Luci. So my mind won't be here anymore but I still hold the power over your next decision."

Taehyung scoffed when he heard the nickname and flicked his hair, this only provoked a giggle out of the girl. He was getting annoyed, no scratch that, he was annoyed and was starting to get angry. He brought his finger closer to the trigger. God, did he want her to stop talking and smiling like she wasn't about to be bleeding out on this floor.

Yoongi on the other hand only got more intrigued. The way the girl spoke freely to him was new and unfamiliar. Only his inner circle could talk to him like that and even then he usually got irritated by it. This girl right here, who still hadn't told him her fucking name, was a mystery to him and Yoongi didn't like mysteries. He wasn't here to play clues but still he sat there, on his velvet seat, trying to figure out the impeccable woman in front of him.

"Why do you think you have any power over any decision I make, huh?" He wasn't any closer to getting information from her and it started to get at him. The night had been tiring enough and his patience was running extremely thin at this point.

"Cause when I'm here, bleeding out on this floor, you're going to have to decide what to do with my body. Within the first hour you will need to think about it. Even if you don't acknowledge it with words and just a head nod to Jung Hoseok over there. It's still gonna be me you're thinking about."

As her little speech came to an end everyone gaped at her. Then she suddenly felt a gust of wind in front of her. She started breathing through her nose as soon as she felt fingers tightening around her throat.

"Tell me how you know that name," Yoongi demanded in a cold and deadly voice that usually had everyone scrambling to their knees to do everything he pleases. But not the girl in front of him, no, she looked him straight in the eye and smirked.

"Marco Polo, bitch."

[vampexx]

Thoughts on Luka and in general

Well, I have been working on an analysis for Luka’s character for a little while now and every time I worked on it, I just didn’t like the way it was turning out. As in, it wasn’t flowing well, it was super messy and patchy, and it was so long that I was losing track of all of the points I was planning on making....yes, that long. SO, I thought I would not only spare myself the headache, but that I would spare you guys too lol.  So I just threw this together hoping it would sit better with me and luckily, it does :) .

I was going to make this post some grand master-analysis on my theories, thoughts and opinions of everything from characters, theories, different ships, etc. and yikes, that idea was scratched pretty quickly because someone who rambles as much as I do, that’s the worst decision ever lol I do not have the time nor patience for any of that mess lol.

Besides, most of what was in this post before I scrapped it has all been said before so I didn’t want to be repetitive.

So instead, I have decided to include mainly my new thoughts on Luka since coming to a different conclusion and stance on his character. The rest will be included, yes, but in the form of links to my other theories and opinions that I was planning including originally to some degree for anyone who may care what my opinion is.

With all that being said, let’s talk about my new found opinion of Luka.

I have always agreed with those that said that Luka’s character was flat, 2-dimensional and too “perfect” to be true. Now here’s the thing, while I was writing the scrapped analysis that was essentially going to reiterate those same things, I came to the conclusion that Luka is, in fact, not perfect. 

For instance:

In the episode, “Silencer,” Marinette and Luka go to XY and his manager to defend Kitty Section when discovering their style and song were wrongfully stolen/ copied. Of course, Luka is a very reserved and subdued character so his flaws are more easily unnoticed at first glance. To spot his flaws, you have to look less at what he is doing (writing melodies, being compassionate, etc. you know, things that make him “perfect.”) and look more at what he is not doing. Back to my point in, “Silencer.” So, Marinette, as she normally does, is quick to defend and argue over the wrongful use of Kitty Section’s style and song. She ends up in a pretty heated argument with XY’s manager. Where is Luka, you ask? While he is in indeed angry like Marinette, but he is standing in the background not really helping nor backing her up in said argument when he arguably should have. Now, this is in fact a flaw. It is due to his non-confrontational and reserved nature that he does not get involved in the argument, neither to back up / defend Marinette, but also not to defend Kitty Section, his own band. He just let’s Marinette do all the arguing and talking while he’s just there watching, getting angrier and angrier, eventually being akumatized. 

Granted, Luka has shown to be not as good with words as say maybe someone like Marinette. What I mean by that is, he usually seems to speak via music so maybe he struggles with verbal expression although that would contradict his poetic words in, “Silencer,” and compassionate words in, “Felix.” Not that expression primarily through music is a bad thing, it is easily endearing to his character however it can also be viewed as another “flaw,” being that he is not a communicator unlike Marinette, who sometimes over communicates lol. It’s pretty clear that Luka does have some nice choice of words to say, however when he does talk, he doesn’t say a whole lot as in, it’s fairly brief. Otherwise, he keeps to himself it seems. Now Luka’s lack of communication can be foreseen as kryptonite to the Lukanette ship, just as I have said above, Marinette is a communicator and not Luka. For someone like Marinette, that could easily be a “turn off” for her, who is a very (sometimes overly) outwardly expressive person, although sometimes not by choice lol.

I may not have found many flaws for Luka, however I feel it’s enough to combat the statement of his character being too “perfect.” I agree, he seems that way at first. Due to his “laid back,” and “go with the flow,” type nature, it’s easy to potentially misinterpret him as a “too good to be true,” type of character. To reiterate, his flaws can be more easily found in what he is not doing, rather than what he is doing. For comparison, a good example of someone having flaws based off of what they do/ their actions (as opposed to inaction) would be Kagami, basing this statement off of her vastly differing personality from Luka. 

To sum up regarding Luka’s flaws, the ones that I have found so far are inaction, seemingly distant and disinterested (mentioned more in depth in link #2) and lack of general communication. Why he possesses those flaws are open to anyone’s interpretation. I for one, am not digging that deep.

Thus being why I have changed my opinion of Luka from being neither good nor bad, just generally indifferent to his character, to actually now being a Luka stan. Now, I’m not necessarily his biggest fan and I am certainly not a fan of Lukanette, but I’m ok with his character and  I do stan Lukagami because they are both Adrien and Marinette’s mirrors, therefore they are also arguably yin and yang like Adrien and Marinette.

Now this post is titled, “Thoughts on Luka and in general.” Meaning, there are some other things I wanted to include that don’t necessarily involve Luka’s character. 

1st being - As of the season 3 finale, I would like to state that no one is officially dating. Nothing official has happened. No one even kissed. 90% of Lukanette’s actions were essentially friendly, nothing too romantic. Marinette does not appear to really reciprocate Luka’s feelings (as backed by, “Luka as seen by Marinette,” video where she never mentions returning his feelings). Also, Adrigami didn’t officially happen either. Although a kiss was attempted, it did in fact fail on Adrien’s end. Some kids sat next to each other, hung out  and ate ice cream which normally doesn’t suggest that people are dating. If anything at all romantic happened in the very end of the finale, it’s that the two pairs are in the, “testing the waters,” phase at best. No more no less, in my opinion.

Remember: The theme of the finale was, “You don’t always get what you want.” That doesn’t just apply to Adrien, Marinette and especially the fandom. It also applies to Kagami, Luka, Chloe, Hawkmoth, Mayra and hell, even Andre lol.

Let’s be honest, we’re not even guaranteed to pick up where we left off in the season 3 finale when season 4 starts.

2nd thing - Now that the peacock miraculous is fixed, I will be shocked if we don’t see the butterfly and peacock miraculous unified, and whatever fresh hell that will bring lol.

Third thing - The kiss in season 2 finale was not just friendly unless when a friend kisses you on the cheek, you look at them like this...

To which I must ask....are they just a friend lmao? (Lol sorry, don't @ me, trying to make a MLB pun....)

4th  thing - I really don’t know which love square ship will be primary in season 4. Like, Adrien still loves Ladybug, obviously, and always will but seems to be taking a break from pursuing her romantically. It is also made crystal clear via a forgotten confession in, “Chat Blanc,” and through increasingly prominent heart eyes from Adrien that his, “more than friends,” feelings for Marinette are growing so much and so fast that they’re quickly reaching the point for him to no longer be able to ignore it. So Adrien, “changing his target,” will not shift to Kagami, rather it will shift to Marinette. I mean, there was no mention of Adrigami vs. Adrinette having a decided victor in season 4 like Lukanette vs. Adrinette, which leads me to think they will not only end first, but also end pretty early on in the season if the ship takes off officially at all, which is still unknown. Next, we have Marinette who is in a more complicated position. She believes that she cannot love Chat due to thinking, for what she knows to be some outrageous reason that she refuses to look into, “will end the world.” She is also trying to move on from Adrien, who obviously she will also never get over. So for Marinette it’s trickier because she feels like she can’t have either, while Adrien seems to get a simple shift in “targets.” 

So how this love square business is going to play out in season 4 is kind of up in the air for me. Marichat is a possible route, where Adrien is pining for Marinette as Chat and Marinette is pining for Chat (while believing they can’t be together) however that makes it seem less likely. It could also be Adrinette, which I feel might be the most sensible route, because Adrien pining for Marinette after finally coming to terms with his feelings for her, and Marinette I guess then deciding to give them a shot romantically assuming Adrien confesses, otherwise if she is still trying to move on without knowing Adriens feelings for her, then I don’t know how well that would work. Ladrien I guess could work, like an unrequited love type deal although I don’t know how likely that is to happen given both main character’s head spaces. Ladynoir I expect, at least for most of the season, to be mostly platonic temporarily. Ladynoir, in my opinion, will probably be the last corner of the love square to be resolved, which I think will take place in the movie after season 4. So, yeah.....more than likely to be played out either via Marichat or Adrinette in my opinion.

That’s all I have to talk about for now....I have just been kind of sitting on those thoughts for a while. Now I will include the links as mentioned earlier:

Link 1) https://vampexx.tumblr.com/post/190128222840/just-my-opinion

Link 2) https://vampexx.tumblr.com/post/190054338050/uh-ohi-used-my-brain-againget-ready-lol

Link 3) https://vampexx.tumblr.com/post/189482028990/just-a-thought-there-are-spoilers-in-case

Link 4) https://vampexx.tumblr.com/post/189856458390/alright-sorry-but-im-gonna-be-salty-real

Sorry this was lengthy, but believe me, this is way better than what this post would have been originally lol. I’m still so tired after all that though...oh well. Worth it I guess.

Have a miraculous day and thank you for your patience! 

[edgarbright]

Life as a Princess: The Once Upon a Time ECB Story

Also known as my favorite story! It’s hilarious, loving, and just all-around wonderful!

Notes: This post is a mixture of direct quotes (not always placed in quotes to identify), my own paraphrasing, and my general tears and exclamations. I’ve fixed in-game typos and included grammatically missing commas for clarity. Screenshots are appropriately capped at 10. Indentations are used for formatting so this is probably best read on desktop.

Enjoy! Please share your reactions with me when you’re done reading~!

Scene 1: The royal bedroom

Alice wakes one morning and it seems like any other ordinary day, except the room is quite fancy. She could have sworn she fell asleep in her own bed last night, but here she is in luxury with with a canopy above the bed and a glittering chandelier on the ceiling. (Nice!) She doesn’t recognize anything, except--

Alice: “Kyle?! What are you doing here?”

Alice: “Where am I? And why are you bringing me tea?”

Kyle, with a serious expression: “What do you mean? I am simply assisting you with your morning tasks, Princess. That’s the duty of a butler.”

Alice: “Princess? Butler? What’s going on?”

Kyle, smiling: “Are you still sleepy, Princess? Or perhaps—”

(Oh--)

Kyle lifted a finger and brushed my bangs to the side and then placed his hand on my forehead.

Kyle, super close and smiling: “You are feeling unwell?”

We should be asking him that question! Kyle, without a morning hangover? Who is this man!?

Alice proceeds to insist she’s fine and Kyle looks at her in suspicion. He gives her the tea like a good butler.

Kyle, smiling his cute smile: “I finished preparing your change of clothes. If you need any assistance, please call for me.”

Maybe it’s just a dream? But ahh, Alice takes a sip of the hot tea and confirms that she was indeed awake and this isn’t a dream...

Scene 2: Outside the bedroom in the hallway

Kyle, frowning and looking distressed: “Ah, that made my neck stiff. I’m definitely not used to acting like that at all.”

In the hallway, Kyle stretched his right arm up to the ceiling to help relieve stress.

Loki’s eyes! They’re red! (And goodness he looks good!)

Kyle: “Yeah, Irene seemed very confused.”

Loki, serious expression: “Do you think Alice believed that this is her castle and she’s a princess? I hope she’ll be happy about it.”

Kyle, side-grin: “Well, why don’t we continue this charade and see how it goes?”

This... charade!? Are you saying Alice isn’t a princess!? The audacity--

Loki, smiling: “Okay! Up next is--”

Scene 3: The royal bedroom again

Alice gets dressed and her stomach rumbles as she smells something delicious. Breakfast is served!

I realized that Blanc must have put it there.

There is no mention of Blanc before she thinks that line, which makes me wonder: Alice, does Blanc normally bring you breakfast? Because that sounds good to me.

Blanc’s sprite appears in order announce he has brought her breakfast. Alice thanks him and wonders if he’s a butler like Kyle. Is this still a dream? But our dear Alice has something more prioritizing than solving this mystery

Alice: “This looks delicious! I’ll start with a bite of omelette--”

Blanc, looking surprised: “Wait.”

Just as I had taken my silverware in hand, Blanc gestured towards me and spoke gently.

Blanc: “When you hold the fork and knife, you must keep your elbows at a 90 degree angle Do you understand? Here let me show you.”

Alice: “What? Oh--”

Blanc stood behind me and place[d] his large hands over mine.

(He’s so close to me!)

It felt as if he was hugging me from behind and I froze.

Blanc: “You need to be aware of how you appear in front of everyone.”

EMBRACED BY THE RABBIT! FINALLY! THANK GOD! But then Alice has the nerve to try to deprive us of this moment by saying this really isn’t needed, but Blanc insists!

A to Z, you say~

Alice is starting to put the pieces together and we get a flashback to Kyle explaining that the King, Alice’s father, wants to see her after breakfast in the royal chamber. Since Kyle is a butler and Blanc is a tutor, Alice wonders if the King is someone she knows...

Having no idea what characters are in this story, I’m wondering too!

Scene 4: The royal chamber

So Alice leaves her room and finds the room labeled royal chamber. She opens the door and--

I ’ M  S C R E A M I N G  L M F A O

Someone please help me I can’t breathe fffffffffffffff

Alice: “Oliver, is that you?”

Oliver was sitting on the throne with one leg crossed over the other while his foot didn’t touch the ground.

I’m literally crying. This story has already exceeded all expectations and it’s not even close to over yet.

Next to Oliver, Kyle and Blanc stand at attention.

Alice, who maybe needs to go back to bed: “Umm I was called here by the King so is he here somewhere?”

Kyle, surprised: “What are you saying, Princess?”

Blanc, an easy smile: “The King is right here in front of you.”

I’m dead lmao

(Wait, Oliver is King?!)

Oliver, looking serious: “It is I who have summoned you here, Irene. Your fiance is here and you will be married soon.”

Oh God

Alice thinks that hearing Oliver act like he’s her father is really strange, but here I am going wild over that “It is I” style of speech LOL Oliver is just owning it. Actual King Material.

Alice then realizes what he said--

Alice: “Married?! How soon? I can’t do that!”

Oliver, narrowing his eyes: “Do not talk back to me. I am the King and your father so my word is final.”

Oliver stood up and came closer to me.

Oliver: “You will be married soon!”

Alice: “But--”

He took my chin in his hand and looked at me with determination in his eyes.

Keep in mind that kid Oliver is only like 4 foot 8 inches? For me, at least, he’s gonna be reaching well above his head and just soighsosh

Oliver, right in front of her face (!!!): “That’s an order.”

Alice: “Yes, your majesty.”

I was so confused about the whole situation that all I could do in that moment was obey so I nodded.

Oliver, smiling cheekily: “You may enter.”

???: “Yes, your highness.”

Oh God who is it going to be!? The door opened and--

Ray, in his regular attire: “It’s an honor to see you again, Princess.”

Ahh... After Oliver as the spectacular King (I’m still laughing as I write this), Ray as the fiance is a little... underwhelming?

Alice is surprised to see him as the fiance, however!

Just as everyone else had, Ray also referred to me as the princess. He bowed down on one knee and spoke with confidence.

Ray, a little closer and smiling: “Shall we proceed with our wedding ceremony? The townspeople are looking forward to seeing you in a wedding dress, Princess.”

(A-are we to be wed, today?!)

He took my hand in his and kissed it, which made my heart race.

Ray, more seriously: “Will you allow me to escort you?”

Ray stood up and placed an arm around my waist.

(Am I going to marry Ray?!)

I appreciate her not jumping into it lol AND THEN

I looked up at Ray and heard him say under his breath--

Ray, grinning: “That was easier than I’d anticipated.”

Alice: “What do you mean?”

Me: What do you mean???

Ray: “Since I’m marrying the princess, I’ll soon be the leader of this castle.”

That is how it works, ye--- WAIT, RAY IS EVIL!?

(He’s planning to overtake the throne?!)

OMG RAY IS EVIL!

RAY IS A HANS!!! I’M SCREAMING AGAIN!

Alice: “W-wait, King Oliver! My finance’s intentions are not what they seem!”

RAY!! I know I said it was underwhelming with you as the fiance but also HOW DARE YOU BE EVIL LOL

Alice can’t believe it! Ray? A villain? Impossible!

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door.

???: “I object!”

HERO TIME! A familiar voice echoed in the chamber and the door opens to reveal--

Loki, smiling and his eyes still red: “Alice will be my bride.”

THIS GAME! THESE TWO!

Alice: “Are we talking about the Loki I know?”

LMAO ALICE!

I’d say RIP Loki but Loki’s BDE game is strong

Oh, thank you, I accept--

Alice: “But I think I’m betrothed to someone else--”

Oliver: “Just take Loki’s hand or we can’t follow the script.”

Alice: “Wait, a script?! What are you talking about?”

Ray: “Don’t worry about it and come stand by my side.”

Loki, looking angry: “Wait a second Ray, that isn’t what we discussed earlier! This is the part when the princess takes the real prince’s hand and they run away into the sunset together!”

Ray, making that put-out face: “No, I didn’t approve of that. I think Irene should be with me.”

Blanc, closed-eye smile: “If we can ignore the script then I would also like to play the part of the prince.”

Loki: “No way! I am Alice’s one and only prince and no one else can have that role!”

Kyle: “C’mon let’s just keep this show going! If we can’t decide on anything then I’ll be the prince and end this quickly.”

Ray: “While you guys are arguing, I’ll take the princess for myself.”

Oliver: “Someone who’s just in it for themselves can’t play the part of a prince. I won’t allow Irene to be anyone’s bride and then this will all end.”

I’m dying over this tug of war and also you tell them, Oliver! Everyone going off script but Oliver is still just, I AM HER FATHER and she won’t marry any of you losers if you keep this up!

Loki, still looking frustrated: “Then it won’t end in ‘happily ever after’! Come here, Alice.”

Loki pulls Alice close and stares into her eyes.

Loki: “Hey Alice, you’re my one and only princess. Don’t choose anyone other than me--”

His arms around my waist tightened and his eyes started wavering.

(Hold on, Loki’s eyes are glowing crimson--)

Alice: “Wait, Loki. Are you using magic?”

Loki, startled: “What?”

Harr: “You’re correct, Alice.”

H A R R  D A R L I N G !! A wild Harr appears literally out of nowhere, not even with a flash of magic, as if he’s been there the whole time! I’m ready for Harr to enter the prince competition!

Harr: “You must end this at once, Loki. You shouldn’t use too much magic. And you shouldn’t cause such a ruckus in someone else’s home.”

Loki, going from a shocked expression to his sad one: “O-okay...”

Loki pouted like a little child for a brief moment and then let go of me.

(Loki always listens to Harr and does what he says.)

Harr looking out for Loki’s well-being like a good guardian T_T Loki loving and respecting Harr enough to do what he says. Love it. Love it so much. This story has me in stitches but now my heart feels super soft lol

Then Harr turned to face me. 

Heroic Harr moment~ Alice is enveloped in white light and when it fades, the surroundings change and she’s at--

Scene 5: Blanc’s house

Alice questions what happened to the castle since this is Blanc’s house.

Harr, smiling that soft smile: “That was an illusion created by Loki’s magic. It was a stage intended to be used in a play.”

Alice: “A play? Wow, and here I thought I’d been dreaming this whole time! Why put on a play?”

Loki: “Well, do you remember that you mentioned how much you admire princesses in fairytales?”

She does and she remembers that she had talked to Loki about it.

Loki, looking sad: “I asked everyone to help out so that you’d feel like you were a princess. I thought it would make you happy, Alice. I’m sorry if it startled you.”

(Oh, Loki--)

Oh, Loki ;~; He loves Alice so much and tries to do right by her. He even gathered everyone to help him out (even if they all betrayed him in the end LOL)! My heart!

His sweet words made me blush.

Loki sometimes does very unexpected things but--

I knew that his intentions were always good.

Alice: “I was surprised but it was fun.”

Alice: “But more than that, I’m touched you would all go to such efforts to do something like this for me.”

Loki: “Do you really mean that?”

Alice: “Of course!”

Loki, with that happy closed-eye smile: “I’m so glad! You’re the best, Alice!”

Loki!! Deserves the world, I’m just saying

I let Loki embrace me as I looked around at everyone.

All of them were smiling and their eyes were sparkling.

(Even though I’m not actually a princess in a fairytale--)

(I’m happier than princess could ever be.)

This is so wholesome oh my goodness. I love all the neutral characters together. I think this might only be our second story starring them all like this?

Blanc, smiling: “Since you’re all here, why don’t we have some afternoon tea?”

Kyle, smiling too: “That sounds good. Okay, I’ll have some tea and then head back to Red Army headquarters.”

Ray: “That reminds me, those cookies you made the other day were delicious. Do you happen to have any left?”

Oliver: “We do. I suppose I could give you some.”

Loki, smiling still: “Yay! Harr, you must join us too!”

Harr, looking distressed: “Is that alright? I wouldn’t want to be a burden to anyone.”

Me, clutching my chest as I fall out of my chair: I love the happy fluff. I love it so much. Of course Harr wouldn’t be a burden! Blanc, bless him, I love that white rabbit.

Also I love how Blanc kind of ties it all together. The more the merrier! Loki wanted to make Alice happy but he didn’t think he could do it all by himself, so he recruited a lot of other people who loved her too. So lovely! So loving!

The scene fades to white on this last happy moment

It was as if we’d all awoken from a pleasant dream.

And we all lived happily ever after.

The End!

Did you like it? This is one of if not my favorite stories! Getting this ECB was a bit of a gamble since we were given no information about it, but fairy tales are my favorite! I’m still positively delighted that this turned out to be Loki’s Alice! Leave it to Loki to try to make Alice the happiest girl in the world, no holds barred!

Also Harr was absolutely the heroic prince in this fairy tale even if he didn’t end up with “the princess”. In this house we love and cherish Harr Silver. No one does heroic appearances like Harr though so we shouldn’t even be surprised~ But I was still surprised!

Oliver as the King is the greatest thing we have ever gotten in this game and I crave more!

On that happy note, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Please come yell with me about this story and Ikerev in general anytime~!

[loserholland]

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐋𝐀

Pairing ➺ Roommate!Tom Holland x Reader

Warning ➺ Bold text is the reader’s thoughts, italics are Tom’s & SMUT & choking kink

Word Count ➺  2,677

Summary ➺  The LA heat isn’t the only thing leaving Tom hot and bothered.

A/N ➺ So sorry for the day late update! I was editing the grammar and etc etc. I will also try to upload two more times this weekend before monday when I officially start school again. I will post updates every now and then during the school year. If anything I’ll just queue stuff to keep my page active.

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @jessybellsworld @spider-mendes @ohbabycal

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

☞  Masterlist  ☜

Today has got to be one of the hottest days of summer. Day by day instead of the temperature slowly going down to 90 degrees, it was always stuck at 100. The cherry on top? The air conditioning was out for the entire building, quite the luck right?

In this type of weather, it’s best of to free roam without any clothes. That’s only if you’re alone or live alone. In this case, (Y/N) had a roommate. Which meant that was always not an option, except when he was out of town.

Tom Holland

The twenty-three year old from southwest London, he has been living with her for almost a year. He had came to the beautiful city of Los Angeles for school and maybe after, an acting career.

(Y/N) didn’t have any classes today but when your plan to sleep in is interrupted by the extreme heat wave leaving your room to feel like a sauna, how can you sleep in? She reached for her phone that was resting on her nightstand unplugging it from the charger.

12:47 flashed across the lock screen along with a few notifications being from a miss call and a voicemail from her landlord, along with few instagram and twitter notifications.

"The air conditioning is out for the entire building, it won’t get fixed till tomorrow sorry for the inconvenience.”

Seriously? Great.

She rolled out of bed in desperate need for a cool shower, maybe from now on sleeping in hoodies during the summer isn’t a great idea. The moment her feet touched the floor it was warmer than ever, usually it would be cold and resulting in why she’d use socks. 

Before heading to the bathroom she picked out a black cami along with some pj shorts, well you could honestly call these booty shorts. (Y/N) didn’t have a problem with showing little skin, I mean Tom does it all the time. 

Walking around with either a pair of grey sweats or basketball shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips, his v line prominent along with his abs. There were times she caught herself staring for no longer than a minute or two.

The heat of summer didn’t need to be around to leave her hot and bothered. Tom does it with or without the heat.

He can take me anyway-no! Stop thinking about him in that way!

(Y/N) slowly opened her bedroom door peeking out into the hallway unsure if Tom was still asleep or not. She quickly entered the bathroom, shutting the door quietly then locked it.

After her long cool shower (Y/N) wandered to the kitchen, she kept quiet not wanting to wake Tom if he was still in his room.

How could someone sleep through this heat? Maybe I should wake him up.

Now here she stood in front of him bedroom contemplating if she should knock or not. Maybe it’s best to let him sleep right? He has woken me up on several occasions... I guess it’s right to make it even?

No, let him sleep.

(Y/N) walked away for a second only to retrace her steps to knock on his door softly “Tom?” no answer. Tom was somewhat of a deep sleeper, on most days.

“Tom?”

Just grab the spare key... he does it all the time why shouldn’t I?

Days when Tom would randomly wake her up. Being most days he’d grab the spare key that opens both their doors and burst in without knocking.

Her hand wrapped around the handle testing to see it was locked or not, but to her surprise it wasn’t. She twisted it slowly pushing it open just enough for her to peek in.

Empty.

Huh, he must’ve gone to his classes then.

(Y/N) shrugged closing his bedroom door and moved onto the kitchen. She fixed herself a quick snack before settling in the living room with the windows slightly open.

Even though the wind was just hot air, at least there was wind right? She threw her hair up into a ponytail annoyed with the hair sticking to the back of her neck. She fixed her attention on her phone, attempting to use it as a distraction from scorching heat.

(Y/N) got up to grab a popsicle, hopefully this will help cool her down.

Is this what hell feels like? No thank you satan.

Tom quickly unlocked the front door craving nothing more than a cool shower. After walking in this hell on earth heat, kicking his shoes off and tossing his backpack onto their dining room table. In the corner of his eye he could see (Y/N) sitting on the kitchen countertop.

“Hey.” Tom chimed causing (Y/N) to lift her gaze from her phone, “Hey! Didn’t hear you come in.” she took in his appearance, grey sweatpants along with a tight dark grey top. 

(Y/N) pulled the popsicle out with a pop keeping eye contact with Tom. 

Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was because she was using a cami that hugged her chest in all the right ways. But whatever the reason was, Tom was feeling hotter than ever. He stood there for a moment watching as she took the popsicle pass her lips moaning lightly at the taste of the fruity solid.

“I-I’m gonna go take a uh shower.” Tom squeaked quickly turning the corner into the bathroom slamming it shut loudly brining (Y/N) smirked to herself. 

That was bold.

Tom quickly locked the door stripping his clothes moving to the shower to turn the dial to the coldest temperature. For two reasons, because he needed to wash off all this sweat. And, take care of something else. 

Holy shit.

He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t think of (Y/N) when he was taking care of his needs. It goes the same way with (Y/N), the days Tom is out of town she can be as loud as she want. Allowing Tom’s name to slip past her lips with ease and no worry of being caught.

His hand wrapped around his shaft letting out a shaking breath as the cold water rolled down his back. He began to pump it slowly allowing his head to hang low.

Maybe it was the way she called him “Tommy.” full of innocence but the gleam in her eyes said other wise. Or when she’d come home from the gym or from a run around the neighborhood, he couldn’t help but stare at her chest.

Fuckin’ hell.

Tom began to pick up his pace, wanting nothing more than a quick release.

It was the little things. Like when they’d be cooking and how they hands graze against one another for a brief moment. Or when they’d be watching a movie and how she’d rest her legs over his lap. When she’d just hangout in his bed when he was working on an essay.She was beyond gorgeous.

He let out a low groan resting his head against the tiled wall letting out a shaky breath.

It was just (Y/N) in general that always had him worked up. 

Holy shit.

The two spent the rest of their afternoon in their rooms, (Y/N) was typing up her physiology essay and highlighting a passage for english. As for Tom, he just hung out in his room mindlessly scrolling through instagram and twitter. 

Once she wrapped up her final sentence of her essay she shut her laptop closed grabbed her phone and headed to Tom’s room. (Y/N) liked to hangout in his room whenever she was done with homework or needed a break. It was around dinner time so she needed him vote on dinner.

“Hey.” 

(Y/N) hopped onto Tom’s bed, “So Chinese or Pizza?” she looked up at Tom for a second then back to her screen scrolling through their dinner options. Looking over the top of her phone she noticed he was wearing sweatpants, 

“Aren’t you hot?”

Tom’s eyes widened slightly, “Huh?” (Y/N) sat upright against the headboard giving him a confused expression, “I said aren’t you hot? I mean, you’re wearing sweatpants.” his mouth formed an o understanding what she meant by ‘Aren’t you hot?’

“No.”

She leaned forward tilting her head slightly, “So.. Chinese or Pizza?”

“Whatever you want.” He shrugged paying no attention, well trying not to pay any attention to (Y/N). She noticed he was acting a little more strange and quieter than usual. He was cracking any jokes, he was keeping his distance causing a frown to tug at her lips.

“What’s wrong? Is it a class or the heat? You’ve been so quiet the entire day.”

No it’s you.

(Y/N) frowned in confusion “Oh, I’m sorry I’m annoying you. I’ll go.” Tom’s eyes widened in panic, did he really just say that out loud? Before she could get off the bed he reached for her wrist tugging it back lightly.

“Don’t apologize, it’s just.... seeing you walk around in barley anything, and when you were eating that popsicle. It’s so fucking hot I just want to-”

Tom bit his tongue holding back from saying anymore, not wanting to scare (Y/N) off if she didn’t feel the same way or wanted what he wanted. 

She leaned forward resting her hand on his thigh, “Do what Tommy?” her voice feign with innocents but lust filled her eyes the devil was dancing happily behind her (Y/E/C).

“Kiss you...” his voice barley a whisper but loud enough for (Y/N) to hear she nodded slowly encouraging him to go on squeezing his thigh lightly. 

It was always these grey sweatpants that made her feel a certain way, wanting nothing more than to straddle his lap and make a mess out of herself. Lust clouded her eyes as need ran through her veins, she could feel herself growing excited.

“I’d fuck you, oh I’d have you screaming my name.” 

(Y/N) moved to straddle one of his thighs resting her hands on his broad naked shoulders, Tom’s hands moved to hold her hips brushing his thumb against her exposed skin.

“So what are you waiting for?” she dared leaning forward to close the gap between them as Tom met her halfway capturing her lips. The room felt hotter than ever, her hands moved to his hair tugging at the brunette curls as a low groan escaped Tom’s lips.

She began grind down onto his lap taking Tom by surprise, his right hand moved to grip her hair tugging back lightly to break their kiss “A needy one aren’t you?” he said with a smirk as (Y/N) responded with a pout nodding in agreement. 

“Look at you making a mess.” 

Even without looking down she knew what Tom meant, there was a line of her arousal which only fueled his need. He played with the hem of her cami brushing his finger’s against her hot skin, he was quick to change their position so that she was laying on her back. 

He pressed kisses onto her hot skin leaning back to tug her cami off and sending it to the floor, he stared at her for a second taking in her beauty watching as (Y/N)  moved her hands to her chest.

“None of that darling, you’re gorgeous.” 

Tom pressed a kiss to the back of her hand as she retracted it slowly to rest at her side, his free hand gripped the other as he began to slowly suck on your already harden nipple. Hit bit down on it lightly causing her to let out an airy moan.

He pulled away with a pop continuing to leave kisses on your skin, kissing the stretch marks that painted your hips “So gorgeous darling, a true work of art.” her heart fluttered lightly. No one had done or told her what Tom just did, he really is gonna be the death of me.

“Tom please, I’m sure there will be a next time. I just need you in me please?”

A smirk tugged at his lips his hands placed on both sides of her head, he tilted his head slightly “What makes you think there’s gonna be a next time?” (Y/N) hummed raising her knee to rub against his bulge.

“Why wouldn’t there be?”

Tom quickly moved off the bed searching his night draw for a condom, (Y/N) removed the rest of her clothing tossing it to the floor. She leaned back on her elbows watching Tom strip, her eyes widened as his shaft hit his lower stomach.

“What?” he asked worriedly noticing the change in her expression.

(Y/N) shook her head, “I-I didn’t think you’d be that big..” he was bigger than her last two ex’s, and that just boosted Tom’s confidence even more. 

Once Tom rolled the condom onto his shaft he situated himself between her legs, he gave his length a few pumps sliding the tip from her entrance to her clit tapping it lightly earning a small airy moan from (Y/N). 

He slowly slipped in and out of her entrance, (Y/N) wrapped her legs around his waist “Please just go deeper Tommy.” she mewled looking up at him with such innocences but Tom was quick to oblige thrusting in till he was fully in her. 

Slowly beginning with deep slow strokes allowing her to adjust to his size before quickly picking up the pace, he left hand rest on her hips as his right began to kneed her right breast. Ever so often his fingers would graze her throat, she hoped he would just wrap his hand around it. 

“Fuck.” Tom groaned leaning down to pepper sloppy kisses against her neck sucking on her skin lightly but enough for it to create a little mark, he moved his way up her jaw and finally to her lips.

The kiss was sloppy yet hot, their teeth clashing against one another lust ran through their veins their moans bounced off the walls of his room. (Y/N) grabbed Tom’s wrist moving it from her breast to her throat, she could see the devil dancing happily behind his eyes.

“Want me to choke you darling?” Tom teased placing his hand at her throat resting it there for a moment watching her nod eagerly. (Y/N) eyes rolled back feeling Tom apply light pressure “Tom.” she moaned as her walls clenched around him.

Tom continued to thrust in and out of her as the familiar knot began to form her toes curled and her back arched into his chest “Mhm Tommy.” she groaned her vision was hazy but as Tom applied a little more pressure to her throat she was about to lose it.

The sun was slowly setting, adding an orange hue to the room. Tom dipped his head down to capture her sweet lips muffling their moans slowly trailing down to her neck leaving a few more marks that would last a couple days. 

“I-I- I’m gonna..” (Y/N) whispered Tom used his free hand to rub quick figure 8′s on her clit helping her to her climax. He could feel clench around him “C’mon darling.” a loud scream slipped past her lips her orgasm ripping through her body once again. 

Tom’s pace began to grow sloppy, reaching his climax no too long after (Y/N). He stayed in her for a moment before pulling out tugging off the condom and tossing it in the trash that rest in the corner of her room. 

(Y/N) laid there for a moment catching her breath, her hand rest on her throat smiling at the feeling. Tom joined her back in bed peppering kisses of her shoulder, they were both sweating like crazy. This activity would work during winter when their heater goes out.

“So..” Tom began “..are you free tomorrow?” (Y/N) rose a brow at him she knew where he was going with the question. 

“Depends, what for?” 

He shrugged lightly “Wanna go on a date? I don’t want you to think I just want you for sex.. I’ve wanted to ask you out for the longest time but I was to-” she kissed him sweetly cutting him off from his rambling.

“I’d love to Tommy.”

[rin-archives]

God’s Menu | Chapter 4: Mistake

“Kim Jennie and Minhee Jeon.”

The male staff who looked through the names on the list put a mark that both of you have arrived. You were waiting to see if the guy would recognize you but he was so busy doing his job that he hardly looked at either of you for more than a second.

“Is it possible for us to be seated together?” Jennie asked with a smile on her face.

“Of course, ma’am. Right this way please.” he led both of you to Jennie’s table which was where the couches were. Your eyes slightly widened when you saw the spot. Jennie was going to take all of that for herself if she didn’t ask you to sit with her. “Here you are.” Both of you took a seat next to each other and settled yourselves down. 

“Would you like us to serve the appetizers?”

“Yes, please. That would be wonderful.” Jennie smiled again until the waiter left. “Ugh, my cheeks hurt from smiling too much.” she cupped her cheek with one hand and started massaging them. Sometimes you wonder how she can be sophisticated and adorable at the same time. “You seem to be a natural though.” you said.

“Well, in the industry that I’m in, I have to keep smiling and put on the best attitude.” she giggled, taking the glass of water in front of her and took a sip. “You were looking at him for a long time. Actually, not looking - you definitely were staring. Do you fancy him?”

Your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment and you quickly shook your head. “It’s not like that. It’s just...he was one of my customers a few weeks back. He and the other two guys kept coming to the cafe. If not him, just one of the other two.”

“Oh? Could it be that the cafe is near here?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe? I don’t explore during my break.” Jennie shook her head in disapproval. “You get an hour break and you don’t even go out? Not even for a walk?”

“I don’t have the time. I spend that hour getting started or finishing on homeworks or projects.” she sighed again. “You need to take it easy once in a while. I know that we work in different environments, but you’re going to burn out first before I do. That needs to be fixed.”

You were about to say something until your appetizers were served by a different guy this time. He had a serious look on his face but you thought it’s because he’s working. But he also had this cold aura around him. Jennie caught you staring in which she cleared her throat before reaching for her glass again. You snapped out of it thanks to Jennie and you also drank your embarrassment away.

“I’ll order us some wine. Looks like you need it.” you heard her chuckle. She called the attention of the waiter who served their appetizer and ordered a pink moscato wine.

30 minutes into the soft opening they had closed the doors since they had expected their guests to be in the restaurant already. The lights dimmed down and you saw another familiar face who stood on to the makeshift stage holding a microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to our soft opening. We hope our appetizers are to your liking. My name is Bang Chan, the owner and founder of The Haven. You can call me Chan for short.” Chan smiled the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and it made him show his dimples.

“I believe we have all our guests that we’ve invited. We will be serving the main course in a bit. We hope everyone enjoys their meal and if there’s anything you need, our waiters will be happy to serve you. Have a good dinner everyone.” After his speech, everyone applauded and he went to the back.

The main course was served to every table. When the main course was brought to your table, you couldn’t ignore how appetizing it looked. It looked like it was perfectly cooked because it smelled great and it was decorated beautifully. Your mouth was watering from both the smell and how it looked. It was your first time eating a meal that’s probably worth more than your tuition fee at university. The wrong feeling in your gut had completely vanished and taken over by your stomach grumbling. If this is what it’s like to eat in a fancy restaurant like this, you didn’t want to make any regrets and waste time on contemplating if this was really okay.

Ever since you started living independently, you only knew how to cook the easy ones. But being someone who didn’t really have the time to buy ingredients you settled for microwavable meals - which wasn’t healthy still.

Jennie who had already started eating caught you staring at your food. She wasn’t sure if she should be worried that you weren’t eating but she knew why you were acting like this. Like what she said earlier, they work in different environments and live in different environments, so she can understand why you looked so stunned. You got your senses back and finally started eating.

The food was delicious - no it was beyond delicious. From the appetizers to the main course, it tasted amazing. Everything just melts in your mouth and you had no trouble chewing and swallowing what you ate.

Time passed and you were just about to be served your desserts. According to the menu, the dessert was going to be brownies with your choice of ice cream flavor on top. Before they were served, you noticed a bunch of security heading towards the entrance. A couple of other guests noticed it too as some were trying to take a peak from their tables by stretching their heads. Meanwhile you and Jennie were just looking at each other wondering what was happening.

“I wonder what’s going on…” you mumbled.

Chan came back on stage to assure everyone that the situation outside is being taken care of and they were about to serve the desserts.

“I don’t think I can take another bite.” Jennie sighed feeling full while drinking water from her glass. You on the other hand were determined to finish your last brownie. The brownie tastes so good and it just melts in your mouth. It was not too soft, not so moist and not too dry - which for you was the perfect brownie. You were proud of yourself for finishing everything while Jennie was shocked that you were able to finish all the food that was served. 

“Where does all of that go?”  

You were about to answer her until the  - approached your table. “Excuse me. Oh-” it looked like he recognized you for a moment. 

“Are you Ms. Jeon Minhee?” You gulped but tried not to be obvious about it. “Yes.”

“What’s going on?” Jennie asked, she was ready to fight back if she had to.

“I’m sorry to disturb you ma’am, would you mind following us to the back please?” he said. You and Jennie looked at each other worriedly. You were about to stand up but Jennie stopped you. “Not until we know why you need to speak with her to the back.” she said, unleashing her stuck-up attitude. Before he could answer, Chan came forward with a calm expression on his face. “It’s okay Changbin, we can talk to them here. But we’ll let the other customers leave first.” He said, which you and Jennie agreed to. Chan personally served you both coffee while you waited.  

You waited for about half an hour for the customers to leave with Jennie trying to keep her cool. Once it was just the two of you, the waiters closed the restaurant doors and shut the blinds. Chan, Changbin and another guy that looked familiar to you too - approached you and Jennie. “Our apologies for keeping you both here but there’s been an issue in regards to the invitation that was sent to Ms. Jeon Minhee.”

Uh-oh. This is what you were worried about from the moment you received it. “What seems to be the issue?” Jennie asked before you could. Chan looked at you with the same calm expression as before. “You’re not Jeon Minhee the actress, photographer and a model?” You gulped. There it was. It was only a matter of time until they found out that you weren’t the right Jeon Minhee they invited. “No, I’m not…” you responded timidly.

“The other Jeon Minhee arrived earlier and sort of caused a scene earlier. That’s why we had to talk to you.” Chan continued to explain. “Well, certainly this isn’t her fault - right?” Jennie eyed them all. “Jennie, it’s okay. Why don’t you go home first.” you timidly smiled at her. 

“I’m not leaving you behind-”

“Really. It’s fine. I’ll text you later.” you insisted that she goes home first only because you didn’t want to be more embarrassed. Jennie dejectedly sighed, got up from the couch with her bag and walked to you for a kiss on the cheek. “Just say the word and I’ll bring the other girls here straight away.” she whispered quickly before finally leaving the restaurant.

After watching her leave, you turned your head back to the three young men. You stood up and gave them a 90 degree bow which they were taken aback with your action. “I’m sorry! I tried to tell you through email to confirm if you correctly invited me. Mr. Han said you did and I thought I was in the clear.” you rambled all of that in one go. Chan and Changbin looked at the third guy next to them - who you assume to be the one named Mr. Han - gave him a certain look that said “why didn’t you tell us”.

“I’m sorry about this ma’am, but you’re gonna have to pay for all of this.” Han suddenly said. You stood straight again with widened eyes. “W-what? But -- “

“Hold on, hold on. It was our fault, so we’ll think of a way to settle this.” Chan quickly spoke up. He looked at you with a soft smile. “How about we talk to you about this tomorrow morning? Does it work for you?” You nodded rather quickly. “Great. Can we meet you back here at 9 AM?” You nodded again. 

“Okay, then that settles it. If you could follow Hyunjin, he’ll escort you outside and call a taxi for you.” You turned around and saw a really tall man with long blonde hair waiting for you with a small and friendly smile.

“Alright. I’m really sorry for the trouble.” You bowed again before getting your belongings and exiting the restaurant with Hyunjin.

Once you were out of sight, Chan sighed and looked at Jisung with a straight face. “Seriously?”

“Sorry hyung. I should’ve consulted you.” Jisung looked down feeling sorry for his mistake. “Forget about it. We have to think of a way to make it up for the real Jeon Minhee and think about the situation with that girl.” Chan patted his back, assuring him that it was alright and mistakes happen.

“You know...I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before.” Changbin said as he also thought you were familiar to him.

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