#like this holds true for almost anyone complaining about 'professionalism'

[medicinemane]

All I'll say, is that college professor who bitch about "professionalism" in students forgets that it cuts both ways

You're a professor, this is a student. You are in theory at least and educator, and so when someone behaves in a way you find unbecoming it's your duty to say "in future please do ___ because that's the polite way to do things" rather than just tearing into them and complaining... to do other wise... well it lacks professionalism

Because it's never a reaction to the student being like "Yo what up skank?", it's always something minor that's not even a universal faux pas

Which cuts to to the core of what it's really about, it's never the language used, or that handing in an assignment only x minutes before the due date is an issue, it's a pure power trip

I don't know about you, but I find power tripping pretty unprofessional

These professors will act like the sun shines out their ass while throwing bigger tantrum over nothing than a toddler would, while citing that the student isn't behaving properly and it's just... you're a disgrace to education, you make academia worse with your presence, you have the emotional stability of a child, and for all your pomp and airs you lack even basic manners which is the foundation of being a professional

Just get tired of that kind of professor and wanted to complain about them

(Bonus complaint, professors who brag that only a small % of students pass their class. Oh... so you're a bad teacher... you're not good at your job. You fail at the one thing you're paid to do with a large % of your students)

[xxrainshadowsxx]

Family Affairs

First family therapy session and the return of angst. Takes place a few days after Jack plants the seed. DISCLAIMER: None of the advice given in this chapter is professional. I am not a therapist, and any advice given is my own personal take on my characters and their situation.

(Also I kind of have an important question down below so please make sure you read that note too!)

Rating: T

Warning: Tiny bit of language, and some heavy topics

“Do we really have to do this?” Jack whispers as the three of you walk up to the quiet center. “All they’re going to do is ask me about planting the tree again.”

“No, she won’t. She’s not here to do that, she’s here to help us learn how to be a family,” you say softly yet firmly. “This is a huge change for all of us, and she’s here to help us through it.” Jack doesn’t complain further, but you can tell he also doesn’t completely believe you. And you can’t blame him for his bad mood. Ever since he’d planted the seed earlier that week, he’d been hounded by just about everyone in the city. It was overwhelming, and while he didn’t regret planting the seed, he was desperate for people to leave him alone again.

Jack wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable. Onceler had been almost completely silent since you had told him where you were going. He, too, had been receiving intense levels of scrutiny after coming back into the public light to help Jack plant the seed. You thought he’d be used to the attention by now, but he seemed to hate it more than Jack did, and you guess you could understand why. He used to be adored. There was a lot more hostility this time around.

But you had to give them both a lot of credit. Despite their complaints, both Jack and Onceler did recognize the importance of this appointment. There were a lot of emotions to sort out, and no one wanted those emotions to become overwhelming in an already delicate situation. Anything that could alleviate the stress was welcome, and at this point, necessary.

Onceler holds the door open for you, and you step inside a quiet waiting room. This particular therapist’s office mimicked a home setting, which you liked; you didn’t want anyone to feel like they were going to a doctor’s office for these visits. You smile a thanks at your fiancé and take a seat on a soft loveseat, Jack right next to you. That left Onceler to sit in the single chair across from the two of you.

You don’t have to wait more than a minute or two before a woman with shoulder-length chocolate hair comes out. “Welcome,” she says in a soft voice and with a soothing smile. “Please, follow me to the back.” You take one of Jack’s hands in your own, and Onceler’s in the other, and lead your family to the woman’s office.

The back room is set up much like the front, with a distinct home-like setting. However, there’s a much longer couch back here, and the three of you are all able to comfortably sit side by side, while the woman sits across from you.

“My name is Emily,” she says in her calming tone once all of you are settled. “And I understand that the three of you are in a very unique situation. I want to impress upon you first and foremost that this is a judgment-free environment. You can speak your mind here, and I will not think less of you for it. And this is your family. We can work on being comfortable speaking the truth to them if you’re not already.”

Her words are exactly what you need to hear, and you hope she’s been able to calm Jack and Onceler as well. You still have one hand of theirs in each of your own, and you give them gentle squeezes as Emily continues. “I know we’ve spoken before,” she says, addressing you. “But I would love to meet the rest of your family.”

Jack takes a deep breath, but decides to go first. “My name is Jack,” he introduces. “And this is my mom… and my dad, I guess. Well, he is my dad, but I’m still getting used to having a dad…” he trails off here, his cheeks turning pink, but Emily, true to her word, doesn’t seem to mind. She simply smiles and nods before turning her attention to Onceler, who shifts uncomfortably under her gaze.

But, despite his discomfort, he also introduces himself to Emily, and confirms that he is indeed Jack’s father. Emily nods again, then consults her notes that she’s already begun compiling.

“So, based on what I know about this, and what I’ve discerned so far, I’ll want to do individual sessions with all of you in time, but today I think it’s best to remain together,” she decides. “And just to make absolutely sure I have all of my facts together, Jack, you grew up with your mother your whole life, until just recently when your father came back into the picture. And Onceler, you were unaware of Jack’s existence until then. Am I correct in all of this?” All three of you nod in affirmation, making Emily lean back and sigh. 

“Well, this is a complicated situation, that’s for sure,” she comments, but there’s no judgment in her statement, just an acknowledgment of the bizarreness of the whole thing. “And I can imagine that everyone’s emotions are going a bit haywire.” She turns to you. “If you’re comfortable, can I ask why you didn’t initially tell Onceler about Jack? Do they already know why?”

Now it’s your turn to shift under her gaze. As nice and comforting as she was, the topic was never fun to revisit. You quickly explain to her that you wanted to tell Onceler about your pregnancy, but weren’t able to get in touch with him. To her credit, she doesn’t dig into this point for now, just adds it to the list of very weird circumstances that surrounded all of you.

“Wow,” she comments when you’re done speaking. “Yeah, you three are going through quite a lot. But the important thing to remember is that despite all of these obstacles, I’m getting an abundance of love in this room. There might be hurt, and there might be confusion, but most importantly there is love, and I want all of you to remember that, particularly if things get challenging. We’re probably going to get pretty deep during our sessions here, but there’s no shortage of support for each and every one of you.” She gives another kind smile, and this time, you can tell Jack and Onceler are starting to become more accustomed to her presence, and thus more likely to open up.

“And one more thing that I should probably address,” Emily adds, glancing down at her notes. “I understand that all three of you have been or are currently in the public eye, particularly Jack and Onceler. This might come into play later, but for now I don’t think it’s a big deal, nor do I think it’s something that will drastically affect your family dynamic. So unless I’m proven wrong about that, I’m going to leave the fame firmly behind us for the time being.”

Next to you, you can feel Jack visibly relax. That had been his biggest worry, and it had quickly been alleviated. Onceler, on the other hand, was still a bit cautious, which you understood. You were sure his experience in the spotlight was going to affect him and need some working through far more than either you or Jack would need. 

Emily next asks Jack about himself, and while it seems an innocent enough question, you’re sure she’s also doing her job. Sure enough, you can see her making notes as Jack speaks. When Jack mentions his love of music and his newly formed agreement with his father to learn guitar, Emily apparently reads a lot into that; her pen is practically skating across the journal on her lap.

After Jack, Emily turns next to you. “And what makes you, you?” she asks, the same question she posited to Jack. Unlike your son, you have much less to say.

“I mean, I’m a mom. That’s been my primary role ever since Jack was born, and I like to think I’ve done a good job at it. Jack’s a great kid,” you shrug.

“Yes, but you are more than that,” Emily explains patiently. “You’re not just defined by your relationships with others. You’re more than a daughter or a sister. You’re more than Onceler’s fiancée, or even Jack’s mother. You seem to have forgotten that.”

All you can do is blink, words lost in your throat. You want to refute her because of course that’s not the case, but as you start actually thinking about it… she’s not wrong. For the past decade, you’d delved so deeply into motherhood to numb the pain that was there so now, that was all you knew.

“It’s alright,” Emily comforts gently. “This happens to several women after kids come along. I’m not saying that your kids shouldn’t be your first priority, or that you’re in any way a bad mother, just that it’s not a bad thing to focus on yourself as well. In fact, it’s a necessity.”

Well shit. For as nice as she was, she pulled absolutely no punches. You trusted that this would make your family stronger on the other side, but the journey was going to be even more arduous than you were anticipating.

Finally, Emily turns to Onceler. This was the part that you were really interested in. Since coming back into your life, you had seen him return to life, but there was still a deep rooted self-loathing there. He’d already made it abundantly clear that he thought you were too good for him, and had insinuated that Jack might even be better off without him. You’d done your best to stop these insidious thoughts in their tracks, but it was beyond clear that he, more than even you or Jack, needed the professional help.

And sure enough, as Emily asks him the same question as you and Jack, his line of vision finds the floor. “What am I supposed to say?” he mutters after a moment. “That I’ve failed at everything in my life? That I haven’t even been able to raise my son? I haven’t done anything right. I don’t know why she still wants me around. They deserve a better husband and father than I can be.”

For the first time, Emily puts down her journal and instead scrutinizes Onceler for a few moments. She then asks a question that you never would have thought to ask. “Do you want to lose them? And I need a brutally honest answer.”

“Of course not,” Onceler answers, looking and sounding almost offended. “I love them. They’re all I have.”

“If you love them, but keep telling them they deserve better than you, knowingly or not, you’re putting an idea in their heads that you don’t want to be around,” Emily says bluntly. “Everyone messes up. But no matter how grievous the offense, you can become a better person. You’ve committed no acts of violence against your family, so I see no reason for you to be separated from them. Believe it or not, I see this often. You made a mistake, yes. But no matter the size, your son and fiancée believe the best in you. Instead of trying to convince them they can do better than you, you need to become the man you think they deserve. But you can’t be that unless you forgive yourself first.”

The silence in the room is heavy, a palpable presence after her words. You’ve talked to Onceler about forgiving himself before, but you’d never been able to achieve the same punch that Emily has just given. Whether he likes it or not, this is what he needs.

“I… I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” he whispers, his voice thick with sorrow. You can tell he’s working hard to hold back tears. “What I’ve done… I’ve hurt so many people. And it’s my fault I wasn’t involved in Jack’s life at first. I made the decision to leave. There was so much I did wrong.”

“Then start with something you did right,” Emily advises. “And I know it’s hard to think of anything you did right when your mind keeps bringing up all of your mistakes, but that’s what I’m here for. I can give you the tools. You just need to choose to use them.”

“And as for something you did right,” you start nervously, looking to Emily to make sure you’re allowed to say this, but she nods encouragingly, so you continue. “As soon as you found out about Jack, you wanted back in his life. And you’ve done everything to be an attentive father since then.”

“It’s not near enough,” Onceler insists, but this time, Jack interrupts him.

“I like having a dad much better than not having a dad,” he says quietly, but in the silent room, it might as well be as loud as a gunshot.

He also manages to completely shut Onceler up. How could he continue arguing after that? He just hangs his head, letting his son’s words sick in as you run your thumb over the back of his hand, offering him what crumbs of comfort you can.

“See?” Emily says, finally breaking the silence. “Your family loves you. They believe the best of you. If you can’t believe in yourself just yet, borrow theirs. I don’t think it’s wrong to have other people as your primary source of motivation, initially. In time, I want you to want to better yourself for you, but if you can’t do that yet, that’s okay. As long as you aren’t using others as emotional support crutches, they can be helpful in terms of motivation.”

“And you can always lay your burdens on me,” you add quickly. “We’re going to be married, and that’s what being married is about. Your joys are mine, your sorrows are mine. And I want to help you with whatever pain you’re going through, even if all I can give is a listening ear.”

“And I want to do the same for you,” he sighs emphatically. “I’m just not sure I know how.”

“That’s why we’re here,” you remind him with a small smile. “We don’t have to know everything right away. We’re here so we can learn how to support each other.” You turn to Jack to include him as well. “All three of us. And believe me when I say, you support me better than you know. There’s so much I could never have gotten through if you hadn’t been there with me.”

“You told me when planting the seed,” Jack says carefully, “that everyone deserves a second chance. I think you should give yourself one, too.”

At yours and Jack’s words, the tears that had been threatening him finally spill over Onceler’s blue eyes. “Thank you,” he says, pulling both of you into his arms. “I don’t know how I ever got lucky enough to get you. Both of you.”

Emily lets the moment linger a while before speaking up. “Well, I think that should do it for today,” she murmurs, seemingly satisfied. “Same time next week? And I think we’ll start with individual sessions then.” You confirm the details with her before leading your family out.

You weren’t perfect yet. None of you would ever be perfect. But you were mending. And you were confident that with each other’s help, you would become as strong a family unit as you were able to be.

OK, question time. My Too Much Gene decided to kick in yet again, and this time... she wants me to write another OncelerxReader multi-chapter fic. The difference is that this one is heavily AU, and set in the 1910's. And the MC isn't the same MC as the one in Interpersonal, if that makes sense. Like, there's no Aurora, her mother isn't dead, little things that make it not the same character. My question is, would any of you actually be interested in reading that? I'll probably write it regardless, but whether or not I post it depends on if y'all would actually read it.

[britcision]

Once again and as always:

Okay, recommend something

Not “read a comic” or “find something from a “good run” of this character”

Be specific, because DC canon is a fucking hellscape behemoth and almost all of it is directly contradictory

Which run of which character do you want people to read? Because ALL of the DC branded content is canon

Yes, even the Superman who blames Kon for being created in the Young Justice cartoon

Yes, even the Batman slapping his Robins around

Yes, the New 52, no matter how much you hate it

Yes, everything pre-New 52, no matter how much you hate that

I HAVE dipped my toes in DC content; I read every run of Suicide Squad and Harley Quinn comics up to 2018. I’ve watched movies, tv shows, and animated series.

You know what I learned?

There is no such thing as consistent characterisation.

Ever. For anyone.

Every “fanon” thing I have ever seen a DC fan complain about people “getting wrong” can be directly supported by DC canon.

It’s not “oddly controversial” to remind y’all that your DC head canons are not the actual canon, or that the runs you “don’t count” still are

I have deadass given up talking about canon lore with DC fans because I will cite a comic, show, or movie and be told “oh I don’t count that” as if that has anything to do with it being canon

DC EXPLICITLY embraces this; “every DC world is real including yours” kinda messaging was big in the 00s

And yet you still get supercilious jerks who’ll wander in on people having a good time playing with the dolls and complain “oh I don’t like how you’re writing this hero you should write them the way I want” instead of just writing what they want themselves, and wonder why it’s “oddly controversial”

You don’t have to like my interpretations of Batman, Superman, or any of the DC characters. They’re still just as valid as yours, so… yeah. I’m gonna discourage people from worrying and obsessing over finding a DC character’s “canon” personality

Because the second they have a second run, by a second head artist, there are now two options. And so on, ad infinitum, for every single new run, and new show, and new movie

When you want to write a DC character, do what DC’s paid professional writers who determine what is canon do: pick a version you like and stick with it, and fuck anything else

If you love DC and love a DC character and want to suggest a particular comic run, or show, or movie characterisation to people, that is fine! Hell yes, do it!

But. Be. Specific. Because if you say “oh go read a Young Justice comic” and I ask you which of the seven separate runs by the single name alone, you’d better be able to answer, because I’m sure as hell not reading all of them just to find the one you like.

And every single one you don’t like is still canon, and other people will all prefer different ones. They. Are. Not. Wrong. Just. Because. You. Disagree. Nor are you. Nor. Are. They.

DC characters past their second retcon/spinoff/retelling do not have a canon characterisation in the way characters from a single show do. It is not the reality we live in. And trying to pretend that you personally hold the key to the One True Canon is patronising, annoying, and almost always comes in the form of shitting on other people having fun for not doing it your way

Just be positive about the run you like, gush about it, suggest The Actual Specific Content You Want People To Look At So They Will Agree With The Characterisation You want. Self-test by googling the thing you want people to “just look up” and see how many other options are drowning your thing.

I’ll read another comic run if it looks actually interesting to me. I’m not going to bother trying to guess which version of the Justice League’s major players over 70 years of wildly contradictory content you’re thinking of when you complain I’m “writing a character wrong”

This is not a particularly controversial opinion

It’s weird that “hey, maybe read or watch some DC content” seems oddly controversial in DPxDC fandom

Presumably you enjoy the characters since you keep using them, you’ll probably like one of the comics tv shows or movies(especially the animated movies)

we don’t HAVE to treat the entirety of DC canon like it’s Phantom Planet

[doeilovr]

One Late Night

-> CEO Jeno x reader, fluff, ~ 600 words, no warnings

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Y/N?"

You heard a voice in the distance and felt a light tap on your shoulder.

"Y/N!"

The light tap turned into a hand shaking you by your shoulder until you finally woke up and lifted your head.

Oh no.

You sat up straight in your chair and looked for the source of the voice. Next to you, still holding your shoulder, stood your boss. Lee Jeno.

His dark hair was styled neatly, revealing his undercut and he wore his usual black suit and black tie.

"Sir", you shouted a little too loud, quickly fixing your hair and clothes as you stood up.

"Woah, easy", Mr. Lee chuckled, finally taking his hand off your shoulder and leaving a tingly feeling behind.

You were working overtime at the office once again when you must have fallen asleep. Embarrassed, you pressed your lips together and looked down to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sir", you apologized.

"For what, sleeping?" A warm laughter filled the empty office space. "It's quiet late so I understand."

"Still, it's unprofessional." You felt guilty and quiet embarrassed about your boss finding you asleep at your desk.

"Honestly", he started, "you're the most professional among all of us."

You looked up in surprise. Did Lee Jeno just compliment you?

His gaze softened even more when your eyes met. "It's true. I can't think of anyone more hardworking. I give you all these difficult tasks and ask you to do the most ridiculous things, like getting me ramen from the convenience store or picking up my dry cleaning."

You chuckled unconsciously, being reminded of the time you ran around the city like a crazy person trying to complete all the tasks in time.

Jeno shrugged, "and it's not even your job, you know. On top of that I have never seen you complain even just one second. I mean, it's Friday evening and you waited for me to leave first."

You nodded slowly, finding yourself enjoy all these kind words from your usually very cold and intimidating boss.

Mr. Lee tilted his head to the side, "even now, you don't complain or yell at me for keeping your here. I think that's pretty admirable."

"Really", you almost whispered.

"Really", Mr. Lee whispered back the same way.

"Thank you." You couldn't help but smile at him.

Jeno scratched the back of his head. "No, thank you! Actually, maybe as a thank you I could take you out to dinner some time?"

You raised your eyebrows at him, "dinner? That would be cool, yeah, I mean great."

Jeno chuckled, "for now though, we should just go home. Please", he gestured towards the exit, "go ahead and enjoy your weekend. You deserve it!"

"Of course", you nodded, "that sounds great too."

"Cool", Mr. Lee copied you.

You grabbed your jacket and bag, turning back to Mr. Lee one last time before leaving.

"Then I'll see you on Monday."

"Yes", Jeno smiled, "see you then, Y/N."

You chuckled, feeling shy and nervous and all kinds of things. "Bye." You awkwardly waved at Jeno, before heading towards the elevators and disappearing around a corner.

Jeno stayed behind, staring off down the now completely empty office. His eyes slowly wandered back to your desk, where you were sleeping soundly just a couple minutes ago.

He felt a little bad that you were so exhausted. If only you knew that he did all this to keep you by his side.

Jeno shrugged, a smile spreading on his lips when he remembered that he finally got the chance to ask you on a date.

"Cool", he repeated to himself. "Very cool."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

a/n: I'm back and I bring you a very little Jeno CEO blurb.. I hope you enjoy it and I hope you have a good day or night :3 love you <3

taglist: @shrutiajit

[khaleesiofalicante]

I found this on my laptop?

Magnus frowned at Maia but she didn’t bat an eye. Alright, he thought, it was time to bring out the big guns.

He pouted at her.

“So, I can’t give free drinks to any cute people?” he asked, leaning against the wooden counter.

“Nope,” Maia replied shortly.

Huh. Maybe the pout needed more voltage.

“But what if they are super cute?” Magnus asked, pouting even further. “Like Chris Pine cute?”

“Still nope,” Maia shook her head.

“Are you telling me that if Chris Pine walks in here tonight, I can’t offer him a free drink?” Magnus asked incredulously.

Maia sighed, half tired and half exasperated. “I can assure you that Chris Pine is not going to walk into this bar on a Sunday night.”

She paused and looked at Magnus seriously.

“He better not walk into this bar when I am not bartending,” Maia said. “I will be so fucking pissed if that ever happens.”

Magnus wondered how much it would cost him to hire Chris Pine to visit the bar on Maia’s birthday.

“What’s the point of running a bar if you don’t get to give free drinks to cute people?” Magnus gestured at the patrons.

It was Sunday night and Hunters Moon was buzzing with anyone who hated Mondays – which was pretty much everyone.

“The point is to make profit so I can pay off my student loans,” Maia answered and slammed the cash register with a loud thud – she could be a little extra sometimes.

“You had to guilt me with the student loans, didn’t you?” Magnus pouted, for real this time. “Capitalism is a bitch.”

“Magnus, you don’t have to-”

He jumped over the counter in one smooth motion and put a finger on her lips. Cute people come and go – but friends are forever.

“I promised I will take over for you tonight,” Magnus smiled. “I won’t give anyone free drinks – even if they are Chris Pine cute. I promise.”

“Just for a couple of hours okay?” Maia said, as she picked up a napkin from the cupboard, probably hoping to clean the counter for the hundredth time. “It’s mostly just kids from the nearby campus. You can close up by 11.”

He smiled at her and took the napkin from her hands and put it over his shoulder. “Maia, I’ve got this. I just need to look pretty and serve alcohol. I’ve been doing that might my whole life. Just ask my dad.”

“Magnus, your jokes are more depressing than they are funny,” Maia pointed out, looking rather concerned.

“Hush, you!” Magnus shushed her. “Now why don’t you go back to the apartment and prep for the interview with the bank tomorrow?”

Maia was applying for a loan so she can renovate Hunters Moon to make it bigger and better. He wished he had the money to make her dream come true – but he didn’t. So he had decided to help her in whatever way he could. If that meant serving alcohol to redheads and Star Wars nerds with what were clearly fake IDs, Magnus didn’t mind one bit.

“You are the best-est,” Maia smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “You are sure you can handle it, right?”

“Maia, I know my way around alcohol,” Magnus reminder her again. “I once drank so much gin that I almost got married to a plate in Poland. Or was it in Philippines? It was a country starting with P. I remember that much.”

“If that anecdote was supposed to make me feel better, it failed miserably,” Maia groaned, shaking her head.

“The only thing that can make you feel better is some hardcore prepping for your interview tomorrow,” Magnus informed her. “Now off you go. I’ve got this.”

He turned around, already taking orders from a blonde girl in a leather jacket. He saw Maia exiting the counter and picking up her backpack. She turned around and gave him a fond smile.

“One drink,” she said. “You can give one free drink.”

“One?” Magnus said in disbelief. “But there are so many cute people here!”

Maia put her backpack over her shoulder and winked at him. “Then you better find the cutest of them all – and it better not be Chris Pine!”

Magnus pouted at the door, which closed after her. He looked around the bar once more - the small cozy space which will hopefully be a big cozy space in the future. It was full of cute people alright. But how could he just choose one of them? It seemed like an impossible mission.

“Alright cutest of them all, show yourself!” Magnus announced dramatically, half joking and half wishing.

Right on cue, the front door bell jingled and two ridiculously good looking people walked in. They looked like students – but Magnus did not make that assumption based on the usual signs like the dark circles under their eyes or the ramen stains on their t-shirts.

These two were actually carrying a pile of giant text books as they found a corner booth and settled down. Magnus was trying to figure out which one of them was cuter when the door opened more and his quest to find the cutest of was settled – probably forever.

The man wore a simple gray sweater and had dark floppy hair that fell just above his eyes. Magnus wanted to know whether he didn’t comb his hair or didn’t know how to.

And his face. Oh my god, his face. 

It was cute. Probably the cutest thing Magnus had ever seen – which is really saying something because Magnus had once attended a cat fashion show a couple of years ago.

The cute, no – cutest – guy’s face scanned the space, searching for someone – probably his girlfriend, if Magnus’ past luck was anything to go by. Even if this cute stranger turned out to be miraculously and conveniently gay, he was probably still here to meet up his boyfriend.

Magnus was used to his shitty luck.

The man’s eyes stopped on him and his mouth parted open, forming a slight O. He shook his head, his ridiculously cute hair flopping around making him look even cuter. The man started looking around again, this time more urgently.

“Face!” he yelled at someone. Or may it was Trace. Magnus couldn’t hear him over the patrons.

Mr. Cutest of Them All walked towards the two ridiculously good-looking students and immediately started gesturing aggressively at the counter. The two students peered over at the counter – at him? – and pointed at their books.

The man sighed and put his face in his hands. Clearly the three of them were dealing with some sort of personal drama. Magnus, despite wanting nothing but to talk to the cute guy, decided to give them space.

For now, he decided to do his job as promised and started taking and making more orders. One hour down, Magnus had successfully poured drinks, breaking zero glasses – although he did break a couple of hearts when he refused to give them his number.

They should really blame the stupid cute guy who was now brooding in the corner booth. The two mysteriously good-looking friends – friends? – seemed to be reading (studying? In a bar?) their giant textbooks in silence.

The blonde one did come over to get a couple of beers but didn’t say much. Magnus wondered if it would be a good idea to send over a drink to their table. Maia did say he could give one free drink after all and he didn’t think no one cuter could walk into that bar tonight – or any other night for that matter.

The bar was starting to empty out slowly as Maia had promised although the corner booth remained the same. Magnus shrugged and decided to clean up the counter since he had to close up in half hour. He was looking for Maia’s cleaning cloth – which she probably should wash more often – when someone loudly and awkwardly cleared their throat.

Magnus turned around to find the cute guy sitting on one of the bar stools, his fingers clasped neatly on the counter before him.

If he had thought the other man was good looking before, he didn’t have words for what he was feeling right now. Magnus could actually see his clearly now. His face, pale but beautiful – like porcelain that you want to caress at first sight. His blue eyes were so deep and enchanting and would definitely give Chris Pine run for his money.

The counter was empty, and so was the bar mostly, but one customer was still a customer. So Magnus decided to stop thirsting and starting pouring – alcohol, just to be clear.

“What can I get you?” Magnus asked, putting on his best smile.

No harm in smiling, right? It was just good customer service.

Okay he might have also unbuttoned one (or two) or his buttons while he pretended to look for something but that’s mostly because New York can be ridiculously warm in…January.

Whatever.

“Can I get a Cake by the Ocean, please?” the man asked.

“A what?” Magnus blinked.

“A Cake by the Ocean?”

“Uh, I don’t know how to make one of those,” Magnus replied helplessly.

Great his first impression on his cute stranger was that he was a loser who didn’t know fancy alcoholic beverages.

“I am sorry,” Magnus said quickly. “I am not a professional bartender. I am just covering for a friend. But I can look it up on the internet and see if I can make it for you.”

“No worries,” the man smiled, and Magnus wanted to kiss him. “It smells like orange juice and vodka. But also tastes like cranberries, I think? Oh – and peach schnapps!!”

“Hold on,” Magnus said slowly. “Are you talking about a Sex on the Beach?”

The man blinked at him once and then twice. His eyes widened in realization and he face palmed and groaned so hard that his friends looked over at the counter in concern.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” the man said, his voice muffled by his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s really not,” Magnus smiled. Can this guy get any cuter?

“Why would anyone even call a cocktail that?” the man complained. “It’s a terrible name.”

“It was actually coined by this guy from Florida. He was asked by a peach schnapps company to create a cocktail featuring their product. So he made this,” Magnus gestured at the cocktail he was currently making, “He named it Sex on the Beach because most of the spring breakers who visited Florida at the time were looking for sex or the beach. It was really good marketing strategy to be honest.”

Cute guy looked both impressed and surprised at the same time. Cute guy looked cuter.

“I didn’t expect you to offer me an explanation and definitely not a comprehensive one at that,” the man said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Magnus winked – because of customer service.

“You said you are covering for a friend,” the man after a minute of silence. “So how do you know about the sex on the beach thing? Do you happen to know random details about random alcoholic beverages?”

“While that would certainly look excellent on my resume, unfortunately no. My knowledge of alcohol is limited to mixing cocktails and making hangover cures. But I was a linguistics major at Columbia. I spent an entire semester on etymology. I may have a little obsession about discovering the meaning of things. So I happen to know random shit like this.”

“That’s actually pretty cool,” the man smiled again.

“I am glad you think so,” Magnus said genuinely. “My dad doesn’t see the point of pursing linguistics.”

“Most parents don’t understand the purpose of learning for passion,” the man pointed out. “They think we need to get a degree so we can get a job. They don’t really care if we like what we to learn or enjoy what we do.”

Magnus blinked.

The man was not only breathtakingly beautiful but also eloquent and deep.

“I agree,” Magnus replied. “But if we are going to talk about our parents, we need something stronger than a cocktail with orange juice.”

The man chuckled.

Magnus used to think that the most beautiful sound in the world was the sound a cocktail mixer makes when you are getting yourself booze after a long day at work – or short day at home.

But now he wasn’t so sure.

Maia can think whatever she wants – but if his depressing jokes can get another laughter out of the mystery man it would be worth it.

“Alec,” the man said, now smiling.

“Short for Alexander?” Magnus smiled back.

“Yep,” Alec nodded.

“Do you know the etymology of your name?” Magnus asked, as he waved at the last patrons – other than Alec’s friends – who were leaving the bar.

“It means protector, right?” the man guessed. “For Alexander the Great or something.”

“Actually it goes further back,” Magnus corrected, glad they were talking about etymology and not something like…baseball. “It was actually an epithet given to the Greek goddess Hera. She was a total badass. You should be flattered.”

“Well then, consider me flattered,” Alec grinned.

[fireflykaizoku]

You know I loved the body swap au! Can I please have one for Marco please <3 gn reader if I may

Hiii love! Of course, i hope you like it! ❤ — Now make a wish. — your friends said, waiting for you to blow out the candles. — But remember, you can’t tell us or else it won't come true.

— Okay, okay. — you giggled, closing your eyes thinking about what to wish. You already had many things you wanted, but the only thing missing now was your other half.

“I want to meet my soulmate soon”, you repeated in your head over and over again as you blew out the candles, closing your eyes as if you were trying to manifest it, or at least try to make it happen faster.

Your friends stayed at your place until late talking and imagining how your soulmate was.

— How do you imagine them? — one of your friends asked you.

— Well… I don’t want to be picky, but… — you thought for a second. — Tall and blonde? Smart, respectful and with a good personality. The rest doesn’t matter, I guess.

That night you fell asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow.

You woke up feeling annoyed with the loud noises outside, all the people singing and talking loud that early in the morning got you irritated. Assuming it was one of your neighbors, you opened your eyes ready to jump out of the bed to complain. But it wasn’t your room. The bed was smaller, but the place seemed to be very clean and organized; there was also a desk with an organized pile of papers.

You looked down and also noticed the toned tattooed chest wasn’t yours.

It could only mean one thing.

That man was your soulmate.

When you noticed the porthole and the room started shaking slightly, you realized you were in a ship. And not seeing any uniforms, you assumed it was a pirate ship. That sounded exciting, being with a pirate!

“Well, it was quicker than I was expecting”, you thought. You weren’t complaining, though. But you were surprised knowing your wish came true in such a short time. You wanted to know more about him, so you started looking for things around his room. One of the papers on his desk said “Dr. Marco”. Was your soulmate a doctor? You were fascinated, reading his notes, or trying to, with his handwriting. Sadly, your soulmate didn’t have a mirror in his room.

You opened the bedroom door, looking around to see if anyone was near. The hall was empty, so you ran towards one of the bathrooms, and finally found a small mirror. It was a little broken, but you could still see the reflection very well. He was very handsome, apparently a bit older than you, thin eyebrows and a different hair, that reminded you of a pineapple. It was very cute. He was the way you wished your soulmate to be.

"Tall and blonde? Smart..."

Hearing some steps approaching the door, you left the bathroom quickly.

— Good morning, Marco! — one of the men passing by said, smiling.

You greeted him with a friendly smile, trying to act normal. Before you could think of anything, a few other man were running towards you trying to help another man to walk. You raised an eyebrow at the scene.

— Marco! You need to help him, this dumbass dropped a knife on his foot! — one of them tried to explain.

— Do you think he’ll lose a toe? — another man asked, sounding very desperate.

You started freaking out when you remembered that now youwere the doctor.

— Let’s go to the infirmary. — you said. They needed to have an infirmary, right? So they ran to one of the rooms, and you followed.

They helped the injured man sit on the bed, and surprisingly the man didn’t seem too worried. You and the other men stared at each other, waiting for them to say anything.

— Well, you two can leave now. Thank you. — they nodded and left.

You tried to act like a doctor, getting a paper to write some information about your patient.

— So, what’s your name? — you asked, trying to sound professional.

— What do you mean with that? — his eyes widened. — I’m Thatch! I’m losing blood and you’re the one who gets confused?

— Ah, yes. Sorry, Thatch.

The room went silent when you were trying to remember any first aid tips you had at school, or anything that could help.

— Can you heal me with your devil fruit powers, then?

Devil fruit powers? Your soulmate had devil fruit powers that could cure people? But your question was: could you use them now that you were in his body? You took too long to say anything or show a reaction, so your patient sighed.

— Don’t tell me you finally switched bodies with your soulmate? — he broke the silence.

You nodded, as if you were guilty.

— Marco, that was the worst timing!

— I’m not Marco. I’m (Y/N). — you turned back, trying to find something to clean his wound and maybe fix it somehow. How hard could it be? Maybe the injury wasn’t even that serious.

— I’m going to lose my toe. — Thatch said, dramatically. — Please, let’s call Marco. We have a den den mushi, but don’t let me lose my toe.

You had a short time to find the Captain, which to your surprise, was Edward Newgate. You didn’t even have time to be shocked. In five minutes, you explained the whole situation, begged for a den den mushi and called Marco.

Your soulmate was worried, but was laughing at his crewmate being dramatic in the background. He had a nice calm voice, and was patiently helping you through the phone, how to patch your patient up. When you finished, his toe looked decent and hopefully would get better soon.

— Now we need to switch back, yoi. — he said.

— We need to find a place to meet, and fast. I don’t know what to do if another crewmate of yours get hurt.

Turns out your island wasn’t far from where you were right now, so in a few hours you’d be face to face with your soulmate.

You dreamed about it since you were a child, when your friends kept saying how they imagined their soulmate to be, how the kiss would be, the wedding and the house you two would have.

You spent the next few hours feeling anxious, as if the butterflies in your stomach couldn’t just be quiet. A part of you wondered if you should practice the kiss so everything could go perfect, but soon you dismissed the idea. If you two are soulmates, the kiss will be perfect anyway.

It was almost night, the sky was beautiful with the sunset, and the Moby Dick finally docked. And much to your surprise, your soulmate was there too. Fidgeting with his fingers and walking around in circles and apparently, waiting for you.

— Is that him? — they asked, you nodded. — Oi Marco! — the crewmates screamed, seeing his figure, or well, your figure, from far.

As soon as you left the ship, the walk towards him seemed long, even though you weren’t that far from each other. Not wanting to take any longer, he also started walking in your direction. And finally you were in front of him. After long years, and an even longer day.

You just looked at each other for a minute, he held your hand, squeezing it gently, as to help you, or him, to relax.

Marco was taking too long to make a move, so taking a deep breath and trying to be as brave as ever, your lips found his in a quick move. His eyes widened in surprise for a second, until the doctor finally closed them and enjoyed the moment. The kiss was soft, gentle at first, since the two of you were still shy. Until Marco heated the kiss, pulling you close as if he wanted you two to become one. Your both hands holding his face, the man’s hand on your hips. And of course, the Whitebeard Pirates cheering in the back.

— How did that work so fast yoi? We just met. — he giggled.

— Because you're exactly how I always imagined you to be. — you smiled.

[hanatiny]

Perfect Illusion

a/n: this fic is inspired by this post (although I modified the idea a bit)! for those interested, I even made a spotify playlist to hopefully enhance the experience~

pairing: royal guard!San x royal guard/spy!f!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2113

warnings: royal AU, weapons (knives and daggers), brief mention of infidelity (which I do not condone), swearing, teasing, dry humping, hair pulling, name-calling (they keep insulting each other... oops), enemies with benefits, implied enemies to lovers (kind of), slight knife kink, implied pain kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, no clear dom/sub roles

-----

Despite excelling at undercover work, you weren’t known be incredibly ‘out there’ in the way you executed your tasks, so this particular mission you had been given must have been the one you disliked the most as of now, not to mention that you despised the tactic of seduction.

You did your best to attract as little attention as possible in order to carry out your information gathering in peace. Although it seemed that in doing so, you had become a little too suspicious for one of the guards. You heaved a sigh, meeting his eyes while most of his face remained covered by the hood and the mask he wore to not look like the odd one out at the royal masquerade event. He nudged his head towards a nearby balcony after asking for one of his fellow guards to watch his spot, signalling you to follow.

Albeit slowly, you did what was asked of you - your beliefs were much too deeply rooted in obedience not to. Once outside, the guard closed and locked the door behind you. Shrugging off his hood, he took off his mask while you did the same so the two of you were equally bare to each other.

“San?!” “Y/n?!” You both gasped aloud in equal shock and surprise, slapping a hand over each other’s mouths to prevent anyone from hearing how casually you spoke with each other.

Prying your hand away from his face, although still holding it in his own, San quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at you, “What, pray tell, are you doing here at this party wearing that?”

Your voice was teasing as you spoke and he gestured towards the black dress you were wearing, “Oh, this old thing~?” He rolled his eyes at your playful tone but allowed you to continue, “As much as I didn’t want to, His Highness requested me to keep my eyes and ears open for anything or anyone suspicious... and had the bright idea of having me use seduction to get the job done.”

Despite knowing how much you hated the technique in question, San thought it fun to tease and rile you up about it, “Do I classify as suspicious then? Cause you’ve definitely caught my interest and seduced me...~”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing him and pulling him close by the tie he was wearing before whispering in his ear, “With how flirty you’re being, definitely. I might have to arrest you now, sunshine~ But if you play your cards right, I might let you fuck me, pretty boy.”

It was your turn to cock an eyebrow when San nonchalantly turned the situation around on you and pinned you against the wall roughly, both of your wrists above your head in one of his own while an almost bored grin danced across on your face at the act. “That all you got~?”

“Not at all, sweetheart...~” “Show me then,” you challenged without hesitation, hooking one of your legs around his hip to draw his body closer and flush against yours, ��show me what you can do, unless you want to admit that a woman could dom you~”

Bullseye. You hit him right in his sore spot, knowing him to be much too competitive to let such a cheeky comment slide. You saw something shift in his eyes, something dark, and you knew you had him right then and there, “You asked for it... don’t complain if you limp afterwards.”

“Wanna bet~?” San effectively shut you up by melding his plush lips to yours, your hands tugging greedily at his already messy hair while the grinding of your hips against his coaxed a soft moan from his lips.

“You really don’t intend to make it easy for me do you, little vixen...” He whispered against your lips, his voice low and raspy as he did so, causing you to give him a casual shrug, “You know me, I always want to be the one who comes out on top. Whether that is in the physical sense or not couldn’t matter any less to me, frankly.”

San huffed softly, he knew you were competitive but so was here. However, the difference between the two of you was that you were willing to play dirty to get what you want.

As such, you couldn’t prevent a slight smirk from tugging at your lips when his breath hitched audibly after he pushed the hem of your dress up to your hips and spotted the daggers strapped to one of your thighs. “Staring longer won’t make the image imprint itself in your mind any faster. And in case you haven’t noticed with how much you want my daggers on your body, I’m worked up and hereby telling you to hurry up and fuck me. Right here, right now.”

“Getting feisty and demanding, are we? Two can play that game, Y/n...~” Reaching into the inside of his jacket, San pulled out a knife and held it to your throat while the cocky smirk never left your face, “Are you just gonna keep threatening me with a good time so that I’ll walk right back in there and tell everyone you’re my bitch, or are you actually gonna do something about that obvious boner in your pants?”

San’s eyebrow twitched at your audacity, the discovery of the fact that you had foregone underwear tonight not helping his dwindling patience in the slightest, “Pathetic how desperate you are for my cock, you minx. Needing to cover it up with such a tough girl act...”

He trailed off, watching you closely as he pocketed his knife and used his now unoccupied hand to quickly unfasten his pants and free his aching length from its confines. He stroked himself a few times, the seconds passing torturously slowly in your eyes as you licked your lips in anticipation before throwing your head back against the wall with a strangled gasp when he fully inserted himself inside of you without warning.

“You son of a-” “Shush doll, don’t want anyone to hear what we’re doing out here do you~?” You huffed as he interrupted you, pretending to think for a moment before shaking your head with a smile, “I actually do, imagine the surprise when they’d hear that two of the royal guards are all over each other...~”

San’s eyes darkened once more before narrowing them at you, “You asked for it, then... Be prepared to scream.”

“Such big words from the man who’d let me spit in his mouth~” You weren’t having it though, only mewling and moaning softly while San repeatedly snapped his hips into yours. His pace was rough and quick, eager to get both you and himself off, “Won’t even, fuck- won’t even scream for me... am I not fucking you hard enough?”

“Mmh... nope~!” You replied with a toothy grin, gasping sharply when San thrusted inside of you particularly harshly. “That better?” “Much~” He continued to move at the harsh pace he had just set, his breath hitching when his hand accidentally brushed against the leather garter still fixed securely around your thigh.

He felt himself twitch violently when you spoke through low pants, his thrusts stuttering, “Wouldn’t you love to have me trail one of those daggers over your sensitive skin, sunshine? Perhaps even pierce it a little here and there to show who you belong to~?”

Those last words came out unintentionally but you didn’t feel the need to correct yourself, considering that your possessiveness appeared to be the last straw for San judging by the warmth that filled you as he came, your own orgasm washing over you shortly after. Once you had both caught your breath, he carefully pulled out of you and helped you straighten out your dress after doing the same to his own clothes.

You implying that he was yours was undoubtedly a matter to be discussed, but for now, you two had a masquerade to return to. As such, San handed your mask back to you after having previously stored it in one of his jacket pockets. You both secured your masks back on your faces so that your identities were concealed once more, although San decided to not pull his hood back up.

He unlocked the balcony door before turning to you with a teasing albeit charming smile, holding his hand out for you to take, “Will you let me have this dance, m’lady~?”

You found it amusing how quickly he could switch back to his professional persona, placing your hand in his own regardless, “It’d be my pleasure~”

He led you back inside of the large, well-lit ballroom where no one was any the wiser of what had transpired mere minutes ago, your dress swaying slightly while you danced with San, a small grin painted on your features.

You ended up getting to bed incredibly late, almost stumbling out of it the next morning before quickly making yourself presentable after being requested in the throne room by His Highness himself, wondering what it could possibly be about.

You ran into San on the way there, finding out that he had been called to see the prince as well. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, you weren’t particularly surprised to find it empty besides the presences of you, your companion and Yeosang, who had placed his crown on a pedestal near himself.

Letting his emotionless facade crack a bit, he gave a small smile when he saw the two of you kneel before him as it was custom for the subordinates or the royal family.

“Those who want to wear the crown need to prove they are able to bear its weight.”

Yeosang’s voice rang out through the room, causing you and San to look at each other questioningly and then back up at him in confusion. The older male had never been more glad to not have any other of his court officials or guards besides the two of you inside of his throne room, relieved that he could be blunt about his message.

“I’m sure you both are aware of how I came to be where I am presently, yes?” You both nodded in response. “Then you know my mother was not a true queen and slept her way to the throne. Hell, I’m even a bastard child - her husband was not my father. In short... she was a whore.”

San gasped quietly next to you in surprise at the word choice, causing you to nudge him gently to remind him to focus and listen.

“I don’t want to keep the two of you here any longer than necessary,” the unrightful prince leaned forward, his weight still resting on the arm he had previously propped himself up on, “My coronation is set to be held eleven days from now. Whichever of you comes up with the better plan to cover up my ‘coincidental’ disappearance by then gets to claim the throne.”

It was a tempting offer, that much you had to admit, but it sounded almost too good to actually be true.

“Your Highness-” “Please drop the formalities Y/n, you’ve known me since I was a little child.” The young man in question corrected softly as you cleared your throat with an understanding nod, “Are you sure this will work out as you intend it to? I’m not sure anyone would believe one of your royal guards to be allowed to inherit the crown just like that...”

“Y/n. Surely you’ve noticed how desperate the people are for a ruler who stands with them, even with all the time you spend working? They’ll accept just about anyone. As long as neither of you exposes the truth about any part of my family... do we have a deal?”

San looked at you and met your eyes, lingering for a few beats before getting up from his knees with you following suit as you looked up at the prince and spoke in unison, always up for a challenge - especially if it just so happened to come with a high reward like this one did, “We have a deal.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now off you two go, there is work to be done~” Yeosang hummed, you and your ‘companion’ bowing respectfully and nodding before turning on your respective heels.

San pulled his hood back over his head and glanced at you with a smug grin that you happily mirrored, both of you making a run for it out of the throne room.

After all, it was only a matter of time and of who created the most perfect illusion, aware that only one of you would come out on top.

----- Taglist (tell me if you wanna be added):

@atinykitty​ @cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva  @galaxteez @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @nightqueennyx​ @twancingyunhoe​  @vocalyunho @yunhoiseyecandy

Network tag:

@8makes1teamnet​

[ifmywishescametrue]

WAIT I DIDNT KNOW YOU SHIPPED SAMTONY TOO!!! another oneeee #13 "I saw you looking at it last time we were in the store together, so I got it for you." for samtony

samtony is a very pure ship 😌 thank you for sending a prompt, and I hope you like it!

It starts on a perfectly average Tuesday morning.

“Why do I do this to myself?” Sam pants out, folding himself in half with his hands on his knees. “Every damn time I say it's the last time, and every damn time here we are again.”

Bucky claps a hand on his back and almost knocks him over with one touch. “Maybe you're a masochist, Sammy.”

Sam feebly flips him off, walking off the elevator on jelly legs. “I told you not to call me that.”

“You let Tony call you that,” Bucky points out, following him towards the kitchen.

"I actually like him. We're friends."

“That's offensive. I'm literally your best friend. Your favorite person. The Abbott to your Costello. The Tom to your Jerry. The Lucy to your Ethel.”

Sam snorts, “You're not even my favorite hundred year old man in this building. Also, if anyone’s the Lucy here, it’s me.”

Bucky scoffs, but whatever retort he had coming cuts off when they enter the kitchen. “Oh, damn, are those banana pancakes?”

He reaches for one on the top of the stack, and Tony slaps his hand away with the spatula. “Where are your manners, Barnes?”

“You’ve got like ten there,” Bucky whines. “Why can’t I have one?”

“You can have one when it’s your turn.”

Bucky gives him a dramatic pout that has no effect, and Sam laughs at the scene as he collapses into the stool next to Nat at the peninsula. She gives him a raised eyebrow and a quirked lip at the complete lack of grace.

Tony flits through the kitchen, exchanging lighthearted quips with Bucky as he goes. He has on an apron that Clint gave him at Christmas last year, covered in snowflakes and purple hearts with arrows through them in a mimicry of an ugly Christmas sweater pattern. Underneath it is a t-shirt dotted with Captain America shields, and the sweatpants have a cartoon version of the War Machine suit on the thigh. As usual, all of the colors clash.

A mug of coffee is placed in front of Sam with a small smile before Tony returns to the stove, and Sam is still drinking the first sip when he comes back with a plate of pancakes for him, topped with just the right amount of syrup and a dollop of whipped cream. Tony’s gone again before he can even finish saying thank you.

“Why is it his turn before me?” Bucky complains, and Sam laughs again through his first mouthful at how petulant he sounds.

“I like him the best,” Tony says, sending a wink Sam’s way. “And they’re for him, anyway. Your favorite, right?”

Sam’s eyes widen a bit in surprise. He doesn’t remember telling him that. “Uh, yeah, they are. How’d you know that?”

Tony shrugs, “I pay attention.”

He hands Bucky a plate of pancakes with another jab at his lack of patience, and the moment passes as quickly as it came, but it keeps happening after that.

Tony pays attention to him.

Maybe it was happening all along, before that morning with the pancakes, but just too subtle for Sam to take notice at first. Now that he has, though, he sees it all the time.

The next is just a few days later, when Tony knocks on his door holding a small, nondescript black box.

“What’s this for?” Sam asks, taking it from Tony’s hand. He doesn’t get an answer before he opens the lid to a simple, leather-banded watch. It’s nothing overtly expensive, nothing that screams ‘gift from a billionaire,’ but it is exactly something Sam would have chosen for himself.

“I saw you looking at it last time we were in the store together, so I got it for you,” Tony says simply. “Figured it would go well with that suit Pepper picked for you for the gala tomorrow night.”

Later, Sam will realize that Pepper had nothing to do with the suit choice that fit him perfectly, but for now he runs a thumb over the dark brown leather and says, “Yeah, it will. Thanks, Tony.”

“No problem,” Tony replies, and he lingers in the doorway for a while longer, lower lip between his teeth. Sam is about to ask if there was something else he came here for when Tony claps his hands together and says, “Well, I should get going. Workshop things to do and all that. I’ll see you at dinner.”

He disappears quickly, and that becomes part of it, too. Never dwelling on it when he does something just for Sam. Fleeing if he can, but sometimes staying when that’s what Sam needs instead.

“You look exhausted,” Tony says, and Sam manages a grumble from where he’s slumped on the living room couch, rubbing a hand over his bruised abdomen.

The mission took longer than either him or Bucky expected, and the fights were more intense. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out type of deal. Infiltrate the base, take out the lower level minions, and apprehend the leaders. But the intel wasn’t as accurate as they were hoping, and there were nearly double the number of enemies than predicted. No major injuries for either of them, but he’ll be sore for at least a few days. Bucky’s cuts and bruises healed on the way home.

Sam doesn’t notice that Tony left until he comes back with ice wrapped in a kitchen towel. He places the ice right on the worst spot over his ribs, holding it there until Sam replaces his hand with his own.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Tony remarks. “You should probably head up to bed. You’ll feel even worse if you fall asleep here, trust me on that one.”

It’s somewhere past midnight, Sam knows, but even with how tired his body is, his mind is still wide awake. The mission replays in his mind. Every faulty move, every chance to do better, every little detail both good and bad.

Sam shakes his head, “Not ready for bed yet.”

Tony takes the seat next to him, leaving an inch of space between them. “J, turn on the Saints game from yesterday.”

Sam smiles a little and asks, “Do you even like football?”

“It’s not the worst sport,” Tony replies vaguely. He settles back into the cushions and pulls the blanket off the back of the couch to cover them both.

“Yeah, what’s the best?”

Completely serious, Tony says, “Ping pong.”

Sam laughs, “That’s not a real sport. Pick something else.”

“Of course it’s real. It’s in the Olympics and everything,” Tony grins. “Give me one good reason it’s not a sport.”

“Alright, fine, maybe it’s real, but there’s no way it’s your favorite.”

Tony shrugs, “It’s entertaining sometimes. The professionals get really into it. There’s an awful lot of grunting involved.”

They stay up for a while longer, talking about nothing of importance, and Tony slowly shifts closer to him until that bit of distance is gone. His arm presses up against him, and Sam starts to have a hard time keeping his eyes open, it seems only natural to rest his head against Tony’s shoulder.

“You can go to bed,” Sam murmurs. “You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“I don’t mind,” Tony whispers back.

Sam does regret it a bit when he wakes up on the couch in the morning with a sore back, but there’s a fresh mug of coffee already waiting for him on the table, still warm and exactly how he likes it, and he smiles to himself anyway. That night is a shift to something different, and he knows it right away.

He starts to pay more attention to Tony’s interactions with everyone else, just in case he’s part of the rule and not the exception. Generosity is one of Tony’s best traits, but even so it tends to extend even further to him. More personal and frequent.

“So there’s this place in Brooklyn that claims to have the most authentic cajun cuisine outside of New Orleans. Want to come with me? Tell me if it’s true?”

It isn’t true, and Tony comes to him the next day with another one, until they’re on a quest together to find one that doesn’t make Sam miss home after just one bite. It takes them all over the city and into Jersey once or twice, and Sam doesn’t point out that Tony doesn’t even seem to like crawfish, no matter where it comes from. He doesn’t want it to be over if he does.

“This is pretty close,” Sam says. He thinks it might be place number eleven, but he lost count a while back. “Could use a little more spice, but at least they didn’t try to add their own spin to it.”

Tony’s watery eyes widen. “This isn’t spicy enough for you?”

Sam grins and shakes his head. “Remind me to bring you with me the next time I go home. You won’t know what hit you.”

Tony’s face does something complicated at that, before it settles on a soft smile. “Yeah, that would be fun.”

Sam fully gets it then, what exactly it all means, but he doesn’t quite know what he wants to do about it yet. Tony has taken up residence in a place in his heart that he wasn’t sure was capable of opening up anymore. He did it so easily, sneaking in like a thief in the night and catching Sam unaware.

Now the sound of Tony’s laugh makes his stomach flip. He seeks it out, telling him stupid stories and jokes to make it happen more. He stares a little too much to catch glimpses of his smile, and now he can see just how often Tony looks back.

It isn’t subtle anymore, this thing between them. Lingering looks, too long touches, and every quiet gesture all build up. Bucky teases him and Natasha gives him knowing looks. Steve tells him that he hopes they make each other happy, and Sam doesn’t tell him that nothing has happened between them like that. They’re still just friends, and they don’t talk about what any of it means.

“Do you want to see a movie with me tonight? There’s that weird one with the killer robots playing downtown,” Sam suggests, and neither of them say anything when Tony slips his hand into his in the darkness of the theater. It goes unmentioned, too, when Sam holds tight after Tony almost lets go when they reach the sidewalk afterwards.

It’s another late night when the last piece finally falls into place.

Sam is nursing bruised ribs again after another mission that turned a little sideways through no one’s fault. He’s still sweaty, dirt under his fingernails and dried blood caked around a shallow cut on his cheek, but Sam still asks JARVIS in the elevator to take him to wherever Tony is. It isn’t as surprising as it should be that Tony is waiting for him on the edge of Sam’s bed.

He stands there patiently while Tony looks him over, and he looks his fill in return. It’s strange how days away from him feel longer now. His balance is off center until Tony is around to set him right again.

“I missed you,” Sam murmurs, and Tony smiles softly.

“You were only gone a couple of days,” he points out, but Sam knows now that it’s his way of saying that he missed him just as much.

Normally, Sam would let it move on from here. Tony would lead him into the bathroom, gently clean up his scrapes, and click his tongue at every bruise. It would end with them on the couch, Sam’s head in Tony’s lap or vice versa, depending on what mood it takes. Sometimes he wants to hold Tony and remember that he survived another fight so he could come home to this, and sometimes he needs to be held to forget about everything else that was lost along the way.

But tonight he reaches out to grasp Tony’s hip, and he draws him in a little closer. The room is dimly lit, and each shadow on Tony’s face is accentuated. Sam can’t remember quite the first time he looked at him and thought the word ‘beautiful,’ but it’s all he’s thinking now.

“You love me,” Sam says. “For a long time now, right?”

Tony nods, and he wraps his arms around Sam’s waist, careful not to hold too tight. “You caught up eventually. Didn’t take as long as I thought it would.”

Sam smiles, cupping Tony’s face in one palm and stroking his thumb across his cheekbone. “How long were you expecting?”

“Maybe never,” Tony admits. “I would’ve kept trying, though.”

“Stay with me tonight?” Sam asks, because nothing more needs to be said for now. They both already know.

“How about every night?”

Sam leans in slowly, murmuring against his lips, “Sounds like a plan.”

[wanderinginksplot]

If you're still taking requests, can I request either Echo or Tech with hurtReader + fluff? 👀

(your writing is amazing and it melts my heart sndnfjdjdb)

Hi, friend! Thank you for the compliment - you're so sweet! I went a little lighter on the fluff than I meant to, but this is what I ended up with. Thanks for the request! Enjoy!

Tech + Injured Reader + (Minor) Fluff

*WARNING: Slight mention of gore. Nothing graphic, but a head's up.*

Watching the Havoc Marauder touch down was a ritual you followed every time the Bad Batch went anywhere without you on board. Tech liked to believe he was an excellent pilot, but you were of the opinion that flying took more than encyclopedic knowledge of a ship’s internal systems. It took instinct, a feel for the ship’s personality, and a good bit of luck to fly in a war zone.

Tech disagreed vehemently, but you had been assigned to them for a reason. Even if he had found your belief in luck - okay, slight obsession with luck - to be ridiculous, Tech admitted that you were an excellent pilot. It hadn’t been enough for you to accompany them on their mission, but it was something.

The real problem was that the members of the Bad Batch were insanely protective of anything or anyone they saw as ‘theirs’. Privately, you thought it was because they hadn’t had any personal belongings on Kamino. And they definitely hadn't had friends outside of their group. Unfortunately for you, you were also considered ‘theirs’ now and the Batch could be… restrictive when they felt you could be in danger. And since you were assigned to help them fight a literal war, you were always in danger and they were always protective. Especially Tech. You had been dating in secret for a few weeks now - too short a time for anything serious, but Tech let you take absolutely zero chances.

“Sir, we need to get you inside,” one of the troopers on deck told you, his light touch to your arm pulling your attention away from scanning the star-littered space above the hangar bay. The trooper's regulation armor looked oddly plain to you, even with the medic's symbol and the touches of gray that told you he was a member of the Wolfpack.

“I’m sorry, what was your name again?” you asked, partially to stall and partially because your luck senses were tingling.

“That isn’t important right-”

“Please?” you asked again. It was another quirk of luck. If a trooper touched you, you needed to know their name or they ended up dying. Statistically, you knew that probably wasn’t true, but who really wanted to mess around with fate if they didn’t have to?

The trooper blew out a sigh that crackled his annoyance through the speakers of his helmet. “Curl, sir. We really should be-”

“I’m sorry, Curl,” you apologized, interrupting the poor medic again. “I got separated from my team and I need to see that they’re back okay before I can leave. Does that make sense?”

“What team isn’t back yet?” Curl asked, seeming concerned. “I thought Commander Wolffe said that everyone had checked back in?”

“I’m with the Ba- with Clone Force 99,” you told him, changing your explanation to use the group’s official name at the last minute. Professionalism never hurt anyone.

“You’re with the Bad Batch?” Curl asked, sounding impressed despite himself. Without waiting for an answer, he gave a curt nod and lifted his wrist toward the speakers of his helmet. “Sergeant Sinker, Medic Curl.”

“Sinker here,” a voice answered immediately.

“Do we have an ETA on Clone Force Nine-Nine?”

“Hold.”

“Copy.” Curl glanced at you and you nodded to show that you were following the conversation.

“Curl, bridge says they’re inbound, expected to hit the hangar in about a minute.”

“Copy,” Curl said again. “Thanks, Sarge.”

“I’d stand clear,” Sergeant Sinker warned. “The good pilot isn’t on.”

“Are you the good pilot?” Curl asked you. You swore you could hear a smile in his voice.

You smiled back and nodded. “That would be me.”

“Understood, I’ve got the good pilot with me,” Curl replied over his comlink. “We’re gonna spectate, make sure they don’t scratch the paint job.”

“There’s no reason to worry,” Sinker said consolingly. “The GAR stopped springing for paint two months ago. There’ll be none left on that ship.”

Curl laughed aloud at that, shaking his head.

“Cut the chatter,” a harsh voice reprimanded. “This is an official channel. Save your jokes for the clubs on the Triple Zero, Sergeant.”

“Yes sir, Commander,” Sinker agreed chipperly.

The Solidarity’s deck shuddered as the hyperdrive activated, ready to take off as soon as the Havoc Marauder landed, and you stumbled with the movement. Curl caught you - his grip uncomfortable given the harsh plastoid planes of his armor - and shook his head.

“We really need to get you inside, sir,” Curl said again, sounding reluctant but concerned. “You have an appointment in the medbay with me, and I’ll be very offended if you’re late.”

You were about to point out that he would be late, too, when the Marauder zoomed up and around the Solidarity, clearly following a path to land.

“Wait, they’re right there,” you protested. “Give ‘em ten seconds to land and a bit longer for me to gloat, then I’ll gladly go to the medbay.” Curl hesitated and you pressed your advantage. “I’ll be a model patient, Curl. No arguments, no debates, no complaining.”

“I never believe anyone when they say that,” Curl said dryly, “but I guess you’ll survive without treatment for a little while longer.”

“Thanks, Curl!” your enthusiasm was a little… off… but you blamed it on the pain you were finally beginning to feel.

Tech was flying, you knew that beyond a doubt. Not only was he the only person allowed to fly, but the landing performed by the small cruiser was proof that the wickedly intelligent trooper was behind the controls.

As soon as they had landed, Wrecker burst out of the side door. “Ha! Told ya we would make it back in one piece.”

“More luck than skill, that,” Crosshair countered sourly, slouching from the door as well with Hunter behind him.

“As I said multiple times, everything was under control,” Tech disagreed. He caught sight of you and started in your direction, eyes taking in the way Curl’s gloved hand was still gripping your bicep.

“There, you saw ‘em,” Curl muttered to you. “We really need to go now.”

“I beg your pardon, but where exactly are you trying to go?” Tech asked sharply, glancing between the two of you.

“Medbay,” Curl replied, slipping into the vocal brevity of a career soldier. “Your pilot was injured, but wouldn’t accept treatment until you had touched down.”

“Luck, you know,” you told Tech, who was already scanning your form with his goggled gaze. You smirked at him and shrugged off Curl, who seemed ready to tow you to the medbay himself. “Also, statistical likelihood be karked! I stayed in the ‘safest possible place’ like you told me and I’m the only one who ended up injured! You should listen to me from now on.”

“What?!”

“Injured?”

"How? Where?"

The rest of the Bad Batch had surrounded you and Curl in a moment, all asking different variations of the same question. Hunter’s voice cut through them all. “Trooper, why is she not in the medbay?”

Curl held up his hands as if despairing of the entire situation. “Sorry, Sergeant. Your pilot refused to leave until we saw your ship land. It would be a big help to me if you would just issue an order to report to the medbay so I can start treating the injuries.”

For all that he liked to take a laid-back approach to non-combat leadership, Hunter took the safety of his team seriously and you knew he was about to do as Curl had suggested.

“It’s not even that bad an injury,” you argued before Hunter could speak. “I just got hit with some debris."

You tugged up the rough, canvas-like material of the uniform pants you wore while you weren’t actively flying and showed them your lower leg. You were busy looking at the faces of the Batch rather than the injury, but you knew something was wrong when Tech swore. Tech never swore.

With a frown, you glanced down at your leg. Your mind refused to make too much sense of things, but you saw smears of crimson and a pale flash of something before the dizziness returned worse than ever.

Fortunately, Curl caught you before you could actually fall and Wrecker scooped you up a moment later. He was already muttering soothing nonsense as he lifted you, and it was almost enough to keep you from noticing the pain. “All right, here we are. Everything is fine. Just don’t puke on me.”

“Medbay,” Hunter ordered severely. “Now .”

“Yes, sir,” you agreed, your voice more weak than you liked.

“Finally,” Curl muttered.

“Tech, go with them,” you heard Hunter say from a rapidly growing distance.

There was a sound of jogging steps, but when you tried to look for Tech’s familiar face, the Solidarity leapt into hyperspace and you felt like you might actually pass out.

“What will treatment consist of?” Tech asked. He was trying to mask his worry by being professional, but you could hear a hint of it in his voice.

“Some stitches, probably an antibiotic shot since the debris was metallic, and a check of the nerves in the area of injury,” Curl answered easily. The lack of concern from the medic was comforting in a strange sort of way.

The silence hung for a few moments, interrupted only by the sound of everyone’s footsteps. Eventually, Tech admitted, “I should have been able to calculate the risks more closely. This never should have happened.”

“Aw, how were you supposed to know?” Wrecker asked loudly.

“That’s right,” Curl agreed. “This is war. Unexpected variables are the norm and there are no safe spots. My only advice is to take all of your people with you. After all, your pilot accepted the assignment to be part of your team. Trying to keep people out of the action never works. Take the lesson, learn from it, and make adjustments in the future. You don’t need to do anything more than that.”

“He’s right,” you agreed, the sentiment muffled against Wrecker’s broad chestplate. “Let me do my job and trust that I’ll do everything I can to keep us all out of danger.”

You blindly stuck your hand out behind Wrecker’s back, searching until you connected with Tech’s familiar fingers. His grip was hesitant but steady, and you gave his hand a squeeze of reassurance.

“It’s probably true,” Curl said, apparently backing you up. “Pain is like a truth serum. And with that gash… it’s probably the truth. Even if you did lie about being a perfect patient.”

You chuckled at that, despite the discomfort from your injury, and relaxed a bit as you felt Tech press a kiss to the back of your hand.

---

A/N - This chapter could realistically be called 'Ink will do anything to avoid using the y/n designation'. For those who are unfamiliar, Curl is my OC medic for the Wolfpack and you can read more featuring him in Just for Kix on my masterlist. As always, I'm still taking requests! Thanks again, Anon, for this idea and I'm sorry again about skimping on the fluff! If you want me to rewrite or expand on it, please feel free to let me know.

[mizelophsun11]

Mizeloph's Tale Chapter 9

Pairing - This story is still at the point of General Kirigan x OC Sun Summoner, but we are slowly getting closer to Kaz Brekker x OC Sun Summoner

Summary - Anna is making sure that she is not a force to be pushed over. She and Zoya go head to head with an outcome that no one was really expecting. When Anna needs it most there is comfort, but the challenge is thinking which one impacted her the most?

Word Count - 2314

-

Anna had wanted to do a little bit of exploring, she hadn’t seen much of the Little Palace since she had arrived. However, she always seemed to have a couple of guards following her wherever she went and stopping her from leaving. As Anna went to try again and go outside they blocked her from going out, as she finally decided to say something two Grisha girls came up behind her and wrapped their arms around one of hers.

“Anna! There you are” Nadia said

“We’ve been looking for you, but you always seem to be one step ahead of us” Marie smiled while holding onto Anna’s arm “I am Marie and this is Nadia” she introduced

Anna nodded looking between the two girls “do you know why they won’t let me outside? I just want to explore a little” she felt like a well kept captive, she hadn’t been outside on the Little Palace grounds since she had arrived

“You’re supposed to be training right now, Are you really a mapmaker?” Marie asked

“Were you really attacked by Fjerdans?” Nadia followed asking after her friend

“How many Fjerdans did you kill” Marie wanted to know any details

“You have it all wrong, I didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t even get much of a chance when I was dragged out of the carriage and almost killed..” Anna hated that she couldn’t even hold herself in a fight against the Drüskelle, Anna didn’t really think throwing a punch against the axe wielding Drüskelle would have given her much of a fighting chance “I have fought before in the past, but it was nothing like what happened..”

“If that is so, then I am glad we intervened” Marie smiled

“Welcome to the first part of your new daily schedule” Nadia looked at all of the Grisha who were working

Both Nadia and Marie sighed “Combat training” they said at the same time then let go of Anna’s arms

Anna watched as Grisha around her worked on combat training, some of it looked familiar from what she had done a few years ago. She might not have continued professionally because her drawing skills outshined how she fought, but she still tried to practice. In the moment when the Drüskelle had attacked she had the skills to defend herself, but with a combination of shock from her life changing and just a moment of panic she didn’t.

Botkin walked up to them “Sun Summoner, all of Raven's foes want to kill you before you can destroy the Fold, it’s a great honor to have so many enemies” he brought his attention over to a Grisha who was next to him

“Well, what a warm welcome, is this normal?” Anna said under her breath

Nadia nodded “unfortunately yes”

Botkin looked back over to Anna once he was done talking with the other Grisha “do you know how to fight?”

“I’ve had a few years of training but nothing much” her training had started in Ketterdam when she was on her own. A child fighting every day in order to make it through, but it was not anything formal. It did allow her to learn a natural way of being more light on her feet and quick to react to anything thrown at her in a fist fight. When she crossed the Fold and got older, Mal was able to introduce her to more formal training. Anna carried both experiences with her in any fight, but when her drawing skills were picked up by officials she became a map maker. She never complained about the change, but she definitely had to make more time so then she did not lose when life had taught her

“Alright, if you have some experience then show me, pick an opponent” he said stepping back

Anna looked at a few Grisha and nodded her head to Zoya “her”

“Zoya Nazyalensky, I’ve been training her since she was 10” Botkin stepped back allowing the two girls to face each other

“Care to back down?” Zoya smirked a little

“No, you might be surprised by what I can do” Anna knew that Zoya had more training, but Anna had the life experience to pack up her training

Anna set herself up, with her thumbs protected by her first, Zoya stood and watched her. When both girls decided to not charge in at once Anna decided to bait Zoya in “come on, I was expecting something more, after all I should be an easy target but you are just standing there like a clueless girl” Zoya was already angry at Anna for being the center of attention surrounding General Kirigan so in blind rage she went up to Anna and threw a punch at her face. Anna dodged then punched Zoya and while she was taken aback by the punch Anna spun around angling her foot so she would kick Zoya in her calf, which caused Zoya to fall. Zoya held her leg when she landed on the ground, she had completely underestimated Anna and now she was paying the price.

A Healer went to Zoya but she brushed them off “I’m fine” she gets up and is ready for another fight

Anna got ready again “are you sure Zoya?”

“Just come at me already!” Zoya was not having it and wanted to prove she was still one of the better fighters

Anna got close and swung with her left hand first knowing that Zoya would doge then quickly punched her square in the nose with her right hand. She then used her foot to trip Zoya as she stumbled back, Zoya landed on her back. Zoya had not been expecting to be completely humiliated by Anna on the first day. Anna was also not expecting to do as well as she did, she thought at most she might land one punch. Anna walked over to Zoya and held her hand out for Zoya to take, Zoya surprisingly took Anna's hand and she pulled her up.

“I might be Ketterdam trash, but you will always be second place” Anna pulled away from Zoya

Zoya was beyond angry, it was true that Anna had kicked her ass, she could tell now that Anna would not be standing for any bullshit. She could feel this anger that was building in her chest, first it was the attention of General Kirigan, and now Anna was showing she was the better fighter from today. In the moment she did not care about what Botkin was saying as she summoned a gust of wind and threw it at Anna.

Anna gasped when she landed in the hay, she heard Maria yell her name “Anna!” her two new friends helped her up

“Please tell me you are ok” Nadia said

“Are you ok?” Maria asked, they both helped brush hay out of Anna’s hair

“Yeah I’m fine, but that was a cheap shot on her end” Anna knew that she had slightly antagonized Zoya, but she could not stand what she had said to her after the demonstration and this was her getting even

“She’s just jealous, can’t bear the idea of anyone else being favored by General Kirigan” Maria said taking another piece of hay out of Anna's hair

“I don’t know why she waste her time pining over him when she could have me” Nadia said, Anna smiled at her

“Oh I am sure she is kicking herself now” Anna watched as Botkin scolded Zoya in front of everyone

“What were you thinking Zoya?! Against the Sun Summoner? Have you lost your mind? You lost the fight fair and square, that was completely uncalled for. She’s not the enemy any more than I am! Go!” he shoved Zoya off, she looked over at Anna for a second then began to walk away to get checked on by a Healer

“Are you hurt? Should we take you in to get checked?” Maria asked

“I think I’m fine, she never really landed anything on me when we were fighting, maybe if I go lay down in my room I will feel a bit better” Anna walked off to her room

She walked through the halls, taking a bit longer to get back to her room, it was nice to see a bit more of the palace. Anna wished that she could see more beyond the walls, but right now she knew that laying down would be the best option. Once she got to her room and walked over to her bed she saw a book on her pillow, specifically a sketchbook. She walked over to it and picked it up, Anna ran her fingers over the embroidered golden sun. Anna opened the cover and a letter fell out, she picked it up and read it.

Anna,

Genya told me that you had asked her about a sketchbook, so I thought I would give you this one as a memento for beginning your new life. I am sorry I could not give this to you in person like I had planned, but you were being called to training and I did not want to disturb you.

I hope you enjoy this sketchbook.

Sincerely,

General Kirigan

Anna smiled at the note and set it down on her bedside table, she didn’t realize how much she needed this. She flipped through the book looking at all of the blank pages that she could now fill with drawings of the Little Palace and more. Something she had been thinking about was the Stag that had been in her dreams lately. Anna thought that would be a nice first drawing for her new sketchbook, the stag was a creature that always gave her more questions than answers. However, no matter where she went that dream seemed to appear when she was feeling lost. It was as if the stag was guiding her to where she needed to be. As she finished the sketch of the stag she realized that there was someone she was thinking about, it was Kazie. The one who had always been at her side when she was young, sketching him was something she had thought about. As she began to sketch him how she remembered, it was as if a memory had been unlocked.

-

Anna was sitting with a piece of paper she had stolen and a chunk of coal that she had been using as a tool to draw. Her inspiration was the little boy that was sitting across from her, he hadn’t known she was drawing him until he moved slightly.

“Hey!” A young Anna said “you messed up the drawing..” she had gotten a good sketch down, but was about to start the details.

“How did I mess up the drawing? You didn’t even tell me you were doing it, maybe tell me next time” Kaz said

Anna pouted a little “cause I wanted it to be a surprise…”

Kaz sighed “I’m sorry Anna” he walked over to her and pulled her into a hug

Anna hugged back “it’s ok, I can always try to draw you again” she showed Kaz what she had so far and he was impressed

“Wow this is great” Kaz smiled and continued to look at the drawing

They continued to look at the drawing Anna had made, it was a bit rough because it was just a sketch and not the completed drawing. As Anna examined her work it make her think of something that she never really thought of.

“Kazie?” Anna looked up at the boy

“Yes Anna?” Kaz looked down at her “what is it?”

“I was just wondering.. If we break our promise to stay together and we meet as adults, how will we know.. You know..”

Kaz thought about what she was asking, he never wanted to be away from her, but in the worst case scenario.. “Your hair of course, you know it’s my favorite”

Anna smiled and touched a strand of her hair then looked at Kaz facial features “well, for me it would be your eyes, if I could recognize anything it would be your eyes”

Kaz nodded “but you know we will never break our promise right? We will always be by each other's side”

“I know, but I guess in the worst case scenario, but we will definitely always be together” Anna said

Anna got up and grabbed one of the blankets they had stashed, she laid down and laid the blanket over them. Kaz pulled her close wrapping his arms around her, he always enjoyed being this close and could never imagine not liking this. It was their thing to do and neither of them ever wanted to stop, there were times when they fell asleep like this. For both of them, it was when they were at their most vulnerable and asleep they relied on each other to protect one another from any danger.

-

Anna loved that memory with Kaz, it fueled her to draw the young boy she remembered from Ketterdam. When she had been brought to the orphanage it was difficult for her to make friends not only because she had hair like snow, but also because none of the children were Kaz. Mal and Alina were there for her and so it eventually became easier, however in the beginning she was struggling. Once she slowed down on her sketch of the young Kaz she remembered Anna looked at the eyes she had drawn. Those eyes would be the key to identifying Kaz if she ever saw him again. She closed her sketchbook and looked out the window seeing the sun was beginning to set. Anna got herself ready to go to bed, she changed into the new nightgown she had been given and laid down. She closed her eyes and for one night she was able to have a dreamless rest.

-

Author Note - Thank you for everyones comments about the flashback in the previous chapter! I added another one because I thought this would be a good spot for it to set up for later events. I appreciate everyone who is leaving comments and I love replying to everyone! To everyone who is reading my story I would love to read your comments! Also, if anyone would like to be added to the tag list please let me know and I will happily add you! If there are problems with the tag I will pm you to make sure that you are informed.

Tag List - @rika90 @itsemy01 @hotleaf-juice @teatimeforusreaders @benbarnes-supremacy @graciefullygracie @aleksanderwh0r3 @klaudosh @herbatkazmilosica

[fiction-boys-rule]

Imagine...joining the Leverage team and liking Eliot.

Pairing: Eliot Spencer/(Y/N)

Warnings: slight violence, fluff

Word Count: 2,200

Boring real life has been very stressful lately so writing has been non existent. If any of you have any ideas or requests, I am happy to take them. The characters I write for are very limited and this year I’m working on changing that, so my apologies. Hope you enjoy :)

You blow out the candles, smiling as the team claps and cheers. Nate holds up his glass from his position on the couch, making you roll your eyes and smile. 

“Did you make a wish?” Parker asks, gazing up at you. 

“Yeah.” 

“What was it?” Hardison asks. 

Parker quickly slaps his forearm, making him protest and glare over at her. 

“What the-“

“You know that if you say a birthday wish out loud it doesn’t count!”

“Why not? That’s kids stuff.” He frowns.

“It doesn’t come true! And it’s not kids stuff!” Parker glares at him. 

“Alright, guys. I won’t say my wish, okay? Let’s just have some cake.” You intervene.

Sophie smiles over at you before you cut the cake and serve everyone. Later, you gratefully take a glass of whiskey from Nate and enjoy the silence of the apartment. Everyone else has gone off to do other things while Nate and you  decided to stay behind. 

“I know I promised I wouldn’t say my wish, but can I still say it?”

Nate leans back in his chair, lazily looking over at you.

“Well, I don’t believe in those things. If you don’t put it out there and chase it, how will you get it? I guess you can consider me the devils advocate here.”

“Alright. I’ll indulge you. My wish was to finally be able to go out and help you guys.”

“Help us?” He eyes you warily.

“Yeah. I mean I know I do already in my own way but I just really want to see what it’s like out there. Even if it’s just being in the background.”

“You’re already in the background. With Hardison. Safe background.”

You roll your eyes.

“Not what I meant. Don’t you want me to see how this works? I mean you always complain that I don’t get it. So let me get it. Come on. I promise I’ll listen to you and play it safe. But let me have some fun, please!”

“That’s the problem. It’s not ‘fun’ out there, kid. It’s a job. I don’t know if you can handle it.”

“Handle it? You know what I can’t handle? Hardison for one more day! No offense to him but I can’t stand another day stuck with him in that hot van! I can’t, Nate! I’m going crazy! Stir crazy! Can you at least let me do this once? Please!”

“What’s so bad with Hardison?”

“Parker this, Parker that. He’s always talking about her and I wouldn’t mind it if he actually went and told her how he feels! He reminds me of someone I know and I can’t stand it!”

“That person you know is that bad?”

“Yes, he is! And he’s not granting me my birthday wish!”

You lean back and sigh, glaring at him. He sighs, holding his face in his hands. 

“Bad enough I have to accommodate everyone else and now you? You’re the one I like because you never ask for anything!”

“I’m asking for one thing and suddenly you don’t like me?”

He grumbles, sighing heavily and rubbing his face. 

“The alcohols not going to kill me, it’s going to be you or Sophie.”

“Oh, I guarantee you that. We’re already planning your murder. We have plans A to C done. How much does your ex hate you by the way?”

He suddenly looks up and sends you an annoyed glare. You laugh softly, running your fingertips on the rim of your glass. 

“You remember how I had that friend whose dad owns a whiskey company? Well, they offer care packages for people they know and the discounts are so good. But it’s not my favorite and I don’t want it to go to waste. Don’t want my friend to think I’m taking advantage of them. But they did offer me a full tour of their distillery. Full of test tasting, complimentary dinner, drinks-“

“Sophie is going to kill me.” He groans, shaking his head side to side.

“Well that was going to happen either way.”

He groans, taking a bigger swig. 

“Just listen to everyone and don’t get in the way of them doing their job. I’m pairing you with Eliot. So far you’ve been getting along. I think he likes you.”

“Likes me?” You stutter. 

How would Nate know about your crush on Eliot? How would anyone know?

“Yeah, well he brings you your favorite drink every day and he got you that gift.”

“He doesn’t like me.”

“I’m not doing this right now. Leave me in peace and regret and I’ll update the team later.”

You slowly get up and smile as soon as you close his office door. Checkmate.

Time Skip

"While I'm proud of you, we don't know who we are dealing with exactly. You've seen it before. Us, the professionals, even get in trouble sometimes. But we trust Nate to make a plan to bail us out." 

You frown as you see all of the orange soda in the fridge. Choosing to just grab bottled water, you close it and turn to a very worried looking Sophie. 

"I'm going with Eliot. It'll be fine. I’ll be fine." 

"By any chance, did you have a say in who you were joining?" 

She peers innocently at you. 

"No. Nate just said and I went along with it." 

You take a swig and watch as she looks away. 

"Ah, I see.” 

“Why?" 

"It's nothing." 

She gives you one last undecipherable look before heading to the couch and sitting next to Parker. You frown. Even being with the team almost a year, you didn't know everyone that well yet. When you had applied for a “secretary title with a concoction of ever changing duties” position working alongside Nate, this was the last thing you expected. You’re glad you took a risk and gave them the benefit of the doubt. It took a while to gain their trust, but they eventually liked you and included you more and more in what they actually did. It was probably because they liked the extra manpower and variety than their already established and constant team members. You sit on the couch and wait for Nate to come reveal the big plan. 

"So, you're tagging along with Eliot?" Hardison asks while typing away at his laptop. 

"Uh, yeah." 

He clicks his tongue while shaking his head. 

"You're going to regret it. Eliot isn't the best or easiest to work with." 

“Then who is?" 

He looks over at you with a “really?” look.

"Obviously me. I would love to teach someone my skills." 

You nod slowly and laugh. 

“What's so funny?" 

"Eliot also said that about you, remember?" 

"You mean the Denzel case?" 

"Yeah." 

"He doesn't know what he's talking about." 

You laugh and look over at the door opening. You see Eliot and he comes in, sitting next to you. 

"Hey." You smile. 

"Hey. Where's Nate?" 

"Probably getting drunk in his office. Want me to go get him?" 

"You shouldn't. He'll come out eventually. Probably thinking about his big plan." Sophie says. 

"Alright! Is the whole team here?" 

You all turn your heads towards Nate. 

Time Skip

"A basement is a pretty bad place to hide a bunch of cash. Just saying." You mumble as you follow Eliot through a hallway. 

“Yeah, well some people aren't as smart as others." 

You quickly turn your head around a corner to check for any guards. 

"You know, I thought you would be mad, or even annoyed, that Nate let me tag along." 

He turns his head around a corner. 

"Yeah, well I think it's a good way to learn something. I like to teach. Just don’t make Hardison my student.” he grumbles.

You run towards a door. He opens it and you squeeze in. 

"Alright. That's the control room. See a metal box?" Hardison says. 

You tune out Hardison's orders to Eliot while you look for any guards. 

“Hey, I'm going to go check the other door. That should be the door to the basement. If it's a basement." You whisper. 

Eliot nods, cutting a cord. 

"Yeah, go. Tell me if you see anything." 

"Y/N, be careful. Just because there haven't been any guards yet, doesn't mean you should get confident." Nate says. 

"I'll be fine. The door is right here." You whisper.

You open it and look in. 

"It's just a big room with nothing in it. Just some vaults. There could be something in here.“ 

You hear footsteps behind you and turn to greet Eliot before a fist comes at you and you feel pain before darkness greets you.

"Y/N, hey. Hey. It's okay. How you feeling?" 

You groan, adjusting your eyes to a bright light. Your head is pounding and your jaw is feeling sore.

"What? Where am I?" 

"She's alive!" Parker yells, making you grimace.

"You okay, Y/N?" Nate asks. 

Eliot clears his throat forcefully. 

"A guard found you. Knocked you out pretty good. The guard blew us. We're going to have to find another way out. You okay? Not feeling dizzy? You might have a concussion."

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about the basement?" 

"Forget about it. We just need to get out of here." 

“We could use the window in the basement. It's small, but I bet we could fit. It leads to the backyard. All we have to do is run across the yard in the blind spot of the cameras, climb the fence and we're out of here." 

"You remember all of that? Damn, Nate. She deserves a promotion." Hardison says. 

"Thanks." You say softly.

Eliot shakes his head, "Lets get out of here, then." 

The moon is bright after you had escaped the house and were waiting for the team to pick you up. You were leaning against a wall next to Eliot, letting the cool night breeze hit your face. You were listening to Hardison and Nate bicker about something. 

"Thanks for uh-saving me, I guess." You say suddenly, breaking the silence. 

Eliot looks over at you. He motions for you to take out the ear pieces and you do. He takes yours and his, and puts them in his pockets. 

"What was that for?" You ask. 

“We don't need to hear Hardison complaining. We get that enough already." He says. 

You both laugh. 

“But seriously. Thanks for helping me. But I just want you know for the future I would rather get caught than risk-" 

He shakes his head, frowning. 

"I don't like to think about that. Point is, it didn't happen." 

You nod, looking at the moon. 

"I think you did good. For your first time. I wouldn't mind having you tag along again." He says. 

You smile, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. "Thanks. I enjoyed myself. And I think I’ll have a bump on my head to remind me about this little adventure." 

“Well, at least you’ll still have a head, darlin’.” 

You both laugh softly. He moves to stand in front of you and lays a hand on the wall.

"Just be more careful next time, alright? I don't want anything bad happening to you." 

"What, I worry Big Bad Eliot?" You tease. 

“Yes, you do." He says. 

His low voice sends shivers down your spine. He slowly starts to lean in until his face is inches from yours. His eyes gaze at you softly. You move a hand up to his neck and gently move him closer. You both close your eyes as his lips place a small kiss on yours. Soft and slow. You shiver from an incoming gust of wind and pull him closer. You kiss him back harder as his other arm hugs your waist. He grips your waist harder and pushes you more against the wall. You moan, gently scratching at his neck. As he pulls away slowly, he bites your lower lip. He moves back and nuzzles his face in your neck. His lips press against your shoulder blade and his facial hair tickles your skin. 

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He whispers. 

You bite your lip and your arms surround his back. 

“Two gifts in one day. Wow.” 

You both laugh softly and he kisses your neck, holding you and comforting you with his warmth.

"So...." you whisper. 

He pulls back to look down at your face and smiles.

"So...the team is here." 

You quickly look over and see the van waiting at the end of the alley. Eliot grabs your hand and motions with his head. You smile and walk beside him as he leads you to the curb. He opens the van door and Hardison's shocked face greets you. 

"One time. One time. And Eliot's stupid charm overtakes you. Unbelievable." 

You laugh and hide your blush as you get in the van, sitting next to Eliot. 

"So, I take that it went well?" Nate asks, looking at you with a knowing look.

“Yeah. Perfect." Eliot says, looking over at you with a smile. 

You blush and lay your head on his shoulder. 

“Surprising but it worked out in the end.” You chuckle.

Nate laughs, shaking his head as Hardison mumbles rapidly, driving all of you away.

[littledrummeraussie]

pillowtalk. / a Mr. Irwin blurb

Word count: 2400+

Warnings: soft and cute and fluffy with some angst to spice it up.

Author’s note: this is a continuation of my Mr. Irwin blurbs, following the events of backseat rendezvous and who’s the boss?

masterlist. / general masterlist.

- - - - -

“Maybe we should take a shower,” Ashton’s fingers lazily ran through your hair as the two of you lay in bed, a sheet wrapped around your bodies to keep you warm.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” you hummed, making Ashton huff out a laugh as you drew patterns on his stomach.

“Stop tickling me,” he pulled your hand up onto his shoulder, giving you a pointed look. “You’re gonna wake the beast.”

“Tell the beast he left me sticky and unable to walk,” your lips pulled into a cheeky smile before moving closer to Ashton’s ear, whispering. “My legs are still shaky. And I can still feel your cum dripping out of me.”

“It’s my favourite way to mark you,” his lips attached themselves to your jaw, sucking a kiss into your skin.

“Like that one time you fucked me before my presentation?” your giggles filled the room as he smeared kisses along your cheek. “Still don’t know how I was able to stumble through that.”

“You did amazingly, that’s why we extended your internship,” Ashton pushed himself up onto his elbow, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “I wouldn’t call that ‘stumbling through’ your presentation.”

“I was really… really… really distracted…” your finger followed the inked lines of his moon tattoos, stroking your palm up to his biceps, eyes settling on his hazel ones. “Are you sure I didn’t get the extension because of you?”

“It was all your charm and ambition, sweet girl,” Ashton leaned forward to peck your lips, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “Come on, let’s clean you up, you messy girl!”

With that he climbed out of the bed, reaching back for you to pick you up in his arms. You squealed and hid your laugh against his neck as he took you to the bathroom, never saying no to your boyfriend taking care of you. Ashton was quick to find the perfect temperature, pulling you under the water to warm you up, his lips already pressing kisses along your neck and shoulder. You leaned back against the wall, still not trusting your legs to work after the orgasm he pulled out of you, and he squeezed your hips, pressing one last kiss onto your temple before reaching for the shower gel.

“Are you okay?” his palms smoothed over your skin, following the curves of your body. “You’re not sore, are you?”

“Just a little,” you slowly turned around to let Ashton wash your back, and he hummed in response, pressing his lips against a hickey he left on the back of your neck. “You know I love feeling it – feeling you even after we’re done.”

“Noted,” he pressed another kiss to the junction of your neck, rubbing his cheek against yours. “Always thankful for reminders and confirmations.”

“Do I have to remind you, Mr. Irwin, that my thighs are still sticky?” you chuckled as he tried to chase your lips with his own, and Ashton let out a laugh, hands teasingly sliding between your legs and running down your inner thighs.

“Can confirm. Definitely sticky,” he lightly bit the shell of your ear, stifling his own giggles against your hair. “Alright, let me clean you up, this time for real.”

He spent the next few minutes making good on his promise, after which you also helped him wash off your shared pleasure. Ashton quickly tied a towel around his waist, wrapping another around your body, then guided you back to the bedroom. He made sure you were dried off from head to toe, lips kissing away water drops sliding down your skin, making you blush and mumble when he stood up in front of you, both of your cheeks warm, smiles bashful, but flirty.

“I’ll get you a shirt,” his fingers curled under your chin, tilting your head up to kiss you. “Then we can snuggle up for tonight. Is that okay with you, sweetie?”

“Sounds perfect,” you pressed a kiss onto his palm, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”

Ash nodded and went into his closet while you sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. He was already wearing a pair of shorts when he returned, holding out his shirt for you to pull it over your head, squeezing your hips and kissing your forehead when you were wrapped up in the soft fabric. You fluffed up the pillows and climbed back under the blankets while Ashton made sure the door was locked and all the lights were off in the house, then he joined you, arms curling around you the moment he slid under the sheets next to you.

“Hey you,” his voice was only a whisper, fingers combing through your hair as you both found a comfortable position, arms wrapped around each other and bodies pressed close.

The streetlamp cast a soft glow across the room, giving off enough light so you could see each other in the dark. Your palm rested on Ashton’s face, thumb lightly rubbing his cheek as his fingers settled on the back of your neck, playing with the soft hairs at the nape. He was only a breath away – you felt hot puffs of air tickling your skin as he exhaled, his nose nuzzling yours sweetly, a wordless game you’ve been playing since the very first night you’ve spent together.

“Hey,” your lips brushed against his in an almost kiss, making Ashton tilt his head forward just a bit to close the distance between the two of you.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight. You looked breathtaking. You still are.”

“Guess company parties are our thing,” your finger trailed down his neck and over his collarbone, connecting the freckles on his skin with an invisible line. “Somehow I always end up… right here. In your bed. With you.”

“Are you complaining, Miss?” he quirked an eyebrow at you and you giggled, shaking your head.

“No. It’s my favourite place. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. And it’s definitely not just the sex – it’s you, Ash.”

“Do you think I’m good enough for you?” he lightly brushed a lock of hair behind your ear and you moved your head to kiss his palm again. “A good enough boss? A good enough boyfriend?”

“Why are you asking?” you nuzzled against his hand, giving him a soft look. “Did something happen?”

“Just wanted to talk about something with you,” he leaned up onto his elbow, resting his head against his palm, running a fingertip down your nose. “And it kinda involves both our professional and personal lives.”

“It’s about my internship, right?” you rested you head back against the pillow, looking up at Ashton who just nodded. “Did I do something wrong?”

“God no,” he shook his head, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together. “That’s the thing – you do an absolutely phenomenal job. And I’m torn because what I should be doing and what I want to do are two different things.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Two more months and your internship will be done. Meaning I either have to offer you a job or write a recommendation letter and let you find another one. Which means… fuck, I can’t do this,” Ashton let out an annoyed huff, nervously running his fingers through his hair.

“Hey, it’s okay! Just tell me,” you stroked his cheek lovingly, trying to calm him.

“If we keep working together…” he curled his hand around yours, resting both of them against his face. “Then I’m not sure we can stay together.”

“Protocol?” you bit your bottom lip, already catching on to what Ashton was saying.

And you knew he was right – of course you couldn’t keep this up forever. All of this was too good to be true, the job and the man you’ve loved. Of course you could only keep one in the end; there was no way the Universe would let you have both. That was just too much.

“Something like that. I mean… God, Y/N, do you even know how much I want to just tell everyone to fuck off and give you a permanent place in the office? How I want to tell all of them to mind their own business and focus on work instead of our relationship?” Ashton’s expression was sombre, and you knew it was really hurting him to have this conversation with you.

“I guess it’s not that easy with three interns, right?” your fingers tangled into his hair, lightly brushing through the messy locks, both to keep comforting him, but also to keep your own hands occupied.

“All of you were meant to stay for 6 months. I’ve thought that once your internship will be done then maybe we can have a normal relationship. I didn’t know that the leadership board would offer you another 6 months,” Ashton confessed, and that made you stop in your track.

“I’ve really thought you were the reason why I’ve got to stay. I’ve thought you somehow convinced them.”

“Told you it was your hard work and amazing ideas,” he leaned forward to press his lips against your forehead, giving you a small smile. “I only had to agree that we can keep working with you. And in all honesty? I was already composing my speech of how I wanted to ask you to come and get dinner with me after we were done. You know, like an official date.”

“You still did that,” you reminded him, and a grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Can’t let a good speech and a dinner reservation go to waste.”

“You’re so silly,” a giggle left your lips, breaking the tension for a short moment. “So what now?”

“I mean, I can either offer you a job here, but I don’t want anyone to think I’m only keeping you because… well, they think I’m only fucking you because I’m the boss and you’re only an intern,” Ashton rested back against the pillows, curling his arm around your shoulder as his eyes searched the darkness.

“So if you offer me the job, and not to the others, then everyone will think I’ve only gotten it because you want to keep fucking me, and not because I’m good at what I’m doing,” you came to the conclusion, and Ashton hummed in response. “But if we stop seeing each other then they can’t claim that I’m only here because I’m a good fuck.”

“You’re much more than just a good fuck, sweet girl,” Ashton cradled your head against his chest, and you turned to cuddle up to him, his lips brushing soft kisses on your temple. “Not to mention that you’ve gotten the internship on your own. I didn’t have to do anything with it, just signed your papers that we want to work with you. But I did the same for the others too.”

“So I guess we should go with the second option?” you moved until you could fold your arms over his chest, resting your chin on top of them as you looked at him. “You don’t offer me a permanent place and I just find a job elsewhere. Even though I would love to stay, and not just because of you.”

“I know some people. I could call them up if you’d like,” Ashton curled a lock of hair around his finger, brushing it behind your ear. “We could find you a job in no time.”

“That’s really nice of you Ash, but… I don’t want that,” you shook your head, biting your lip. “I don’t want anyone to offer me a job just because I’m Mr. Irwin’s girlfriend.”

“I understand,” he nodded, fingers still brushing through your hair.

“Promise me!” you gave him a pleading look, not really believing his words. “Please, just… I know it would be so easy for you to just pick up the phone and ask a small favour from one of your partners. I know you have the power, but I want to do this on my own.”

“Y/N, sweetie,” Ashton’s hands locked around your arms, pulling you up until you were face to face with each other. “I would never go behind your back, you can trust me on that.”

He curled his fingers around your jaw, pulling your face closer to press your lips together in a short, sweet kiss. Even in the dark you could make out the honesty in those hazel eyes, and you felt guilty that you thought he would do something without you agreeing to it.

“I know you can do this on your own – you’re smart and ambitious and you know your way around your craft. They would be stupid not to hire you. I would do that, without a second thought, and it’s actually killing me that I can’t keep you in my team,” Ash knocked his forehead against yours, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “So that was the boss in me.”

“What about the boyfriend?” you whispered, fingers tangling into his hair again.

“The boyfriend in me says that I want to support you in any way I can,” he continued, his voice firm, but still soft around the edges. “And for that I have to accept that sometimes support means that I just stand by you and encourage you, without actually doing anything. Know that I really want the best for you, the best job, the best opportunities. But more importantly I want us to have a loving and honest relationship. I would much rather have your trust than anything else in this world. I know I can’t have it if I start seeking out people to give you a job.”

“You don’t know how much I appreciate that,” you mumbled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, and Ashton wrapped you even more tightly to himself. “Thank you.”

“You make me so happy, sweet girl,” Ashton whispered in your ear, kissing it softly as he continued. “I wouldn’t risk it for the world. And if I can’t offer you an actual job, then I’m gonna write you one hell of a recommendation to make people want to work with you.”

“I love you so much,” you sighed against his skin, pressing a kiss onto his collarbone. “Not for this, but for everything that you are.”

“I know baby, I know,” you could hear the smile in Ashton’s voice. “I love you too. I promise you we will work this out, everyone else be damned.”

“That’s your boss voice, Ashton,” you giggled lightly, and you felt him squeeze your hips.

“I’ve thought you liked my boss voice,” he teased you, giving a small bite to your ear. “I remember someone moaning Mr. Irwin again and again…”

“Well, he’s hot,” you opened one eye as you looked up at him, a cheeky smile pulling at your lips. “But not as hot as my boyfriend Ashton.”

- - - - -

taglist.

@mymindwide @loveroflrh @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @myloverboyash @suchalonelysunflower @sexgodashton @rebelwith0utacause @creampiecashton @irwinkitten @allthestarsandthemoon @castaway-cashton​ @spicycal​

[cherryblossomstars]

paper crowns (t. oikawa)

a/n: take a shot everytime i say the words “paper crowns” in this fic lmao. i hope you enjoy it! i’m really proud of this one

pairing: oikawa x reader

word count: 2,138

genre: childhood friends to lovers, very light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, its like 85% fluff 15% angst and imo its not that angsty

summary: you were in love with the boy who wore paper crowns and kept galaxies in his pockets

you were in love with a boy who wore paper crowns and kept galaxies in his pockets in case the both of you ever got bored of the same old scenery the miyagi prefecture had to offer. he’d take the stars and universes out of his pocket and paint your skies with nebulas and show you everything beautiful the world had to offer.

“i want to travel the world with you one day,” he’d shrugged one day out of nowhere- as if you weren’t both in fourth grade and had no real means of being able to make that dream come true.

“we will.” you’d promised, anyway.

the paper crowns were a craft you’d shown him how to make when you were both little. he’d become so enamored with it the both of you had gone to the store and spent your pocket money on buying blue card stock paper, just to have quality, blue paper crowns.

when iwaizumi had joined one day, the both of you had offered him a crown. he refused, saying knights were much cooler anyway. and so, the three of you spent the day learning how to make a paper sword for your dear friend instead.

you and oikawa preferred the crowns much more.

“see, i’m a king, and you’re my queen!” he’d exclaimed. you wondered if it was a silly proclamation or a promise for the future.

the paper crowns remained on your heads all throughout your childhood and middle school. by the time you got to highschool, you’d realized with tears in your eyes and a heavy heart that oikawa had traded in his paper crowns for a volleyball and a net.

the paper crown you’d both made and decorated with stickers and drawings remained on his dresser, but your friendship had long since withered away.

the garden that was your friendship needed the care of two people and oikawa, busy as he was, had left you to do all the work. eventually, what had become this one-sided friendship of yours had dried up.

he regrets many things, but he regrets that the most.

he pretends he doesn’t see the way you steal glances towards him and look like you’re about to cry.

he pretends it doesn’t hurt when you stop. he has to steel himself whenever you walk by him without so much as a glance.

you don’t make paper crowns anymore.

he’s not sure if he was better off with you hating him or you ignoring him.

oikawa tooru loves paper crowns, attention, and volleyball. he’d realized too late that he loves you, too.

in his second year, he’d ditched volleyball practice for the first and last time. he’d gone to the store, just like he did many years ago, and bought a pack of blue card stock.

two new, clean paper crowns. he’s gotten much better at them, he thought proudly. he grabbed some stickers from takeru (much to his nephew’s protest) with promises to buy him more later. he’d stuck the stickers on carefully, the perfectionist that he is. and afterwards, after deciding that the crown looked too plain, he’d drawn and cut out some designs on a different sheet of paper, meticulously glueing on every little drawing.

the first and last time he’d ever ditch volleyball practice, and it was to make you a paper crown for your birthday. he’d even made a matching one for himself.

“i’m such a simp...” he sighed to himself. the both of you hadn’t spoken in two years, and he was about to show up to your doorstep with an origami project and a sheepish smile.

he decided he needs more because you deserve better than a childish arts and crafts project with sentimental value and a shitty friend. another stop at the store, with the crowns in his hand.

the florists are all closed by this time of day, so instead he buys a few cheap, half off bouquets that the stores sell.

he hates them, if he was being honest. so he compromises, stealing certain flowers here and there from each bouquet he bought and made it into one, beautifully done (almost professional looking, if he could say so himself) bouquet— just for you. he’d put the leftover flowers into a vase and arrange them later to give to his mother.

by the time he’s finally finished preparing, it was on the cusp of twilight. his mother had flashed him a knowing smile on his way out of the door, the pieces all fitting together when she sees the familiar points of the crowns in his hand. she’d seen them often enough in his childhood to know that they were worth more to him than just simple toys.

while the night is winding down, you open your door to a pretty bouquet shoved into your face, tied with a pretty blue bow and held by a pretty boy, with a shy, apologetic smile on his face. the real kicker was the paper crown placed on his head.

you smile, glad to see the boy you once called your best friend again. you happily take the flowers, side stepping away from your front door to let the chocolate haired setter into your home.

your family greets him with a smile, they’d always loved oikawa. to them, he was the boy that would spout facts about space and conspiracy theories about the government and the aliens that they were hiding whenever he could. his faces flushes bright red when it’s brought up.

they, too, smile knowingly at the familiar blue set of crowns in his hand.

you put the beautifully arranged flowers into a vase and ask him to follow you. he does, of course. he’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you’d asked him to.

he won’t say that. not right now, at least. your relationship still needed mending. he still needed to learn how to manage his schedule. it’s the reason the both of you had distanced yourselves from each other in the first place.

volleyball first, he’d always think. he’d just assumed you’d always be able for him to come home to whenever he needed. you’d just felt used, instead.

he thinks he’s learned his lesson. enough, at least, for him to try being friends with you again. properly, this time. and then maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to confess the feelings he’s been shoving away from his heart for years.

you both enter your room, placing the vase of flowers onto your nightstand. his heart stutters with hope when he sees a paper crown left on your nightstand, right next to the newly set vase of flowers. he ignores how his stomach plunged with guilt, as well, for neglecting your friendship for so long.

you both pretend you don’t see your family peaking through a crack in your door to see what was going on.

they pretend they didn’t see oikawa hold you in his arms and whisper apologies, asking for another chance. they slip away without a word.

oikawa’s head tucks into your shoulder, his paper crown falling to the ground when he does.

you wonder how he could be comfortable in this position, considering your height difference. he’s grown so much taller since you knew him.

when he steps back, he places the paper crown he’s been holding in his hand onto your head. you bend down to pick up his, and place it onto his head.

you realize quickly that oikawa is still the boy that keeps galaxies in his pocket and that he’d never traded in his paper crowns for volleyball. he brought them with him.

he’d make a great king, you think, when you watch him play a highschool game for the first time.

you’d been avoiding watching your high school’s volleyball games out of fear and, quite frankly, humiliation for the friendship that withered after not seeing sunlight for two years.

he’s still a setter, just like he was in middle school, and he’s still amazing. he conducts his team with ease and, despite always receiving the brunt of their jokes, it’s clear they respect and trust him just as much as he does them.

you smile and wave at the boy who once held a paper sword in his hand. iwaizumi sends you a confused glance, but waves back nonetheless. he turns to oikawa, his furrowed brows and look of confusion still evident on his face.

oikawa turns to his friend, who then points to you. when oikawa sees you at his game, he complains about you waving to iwaizumi before you greeted him, yelling his complains all the way from the gym floor.

you roll your eyes, “i have an inquiry box at home, if you want!” you yell right back.

he pouts, “well maybe i’ll submit an entry! about how mean you are to me! hmph!”

he turns away with a smile on his face. he can’t help it— you’re finally at a game.

he’ll never admit he always looks for you in the crowd when he plays the sport he loves so much. when you finally show up to one, he finally acknowledges the feeling of pride that swells in his chest.

he confesses to you at the end of your second year, when he thinks that you’re both back and settled into your friendship.

he knows that he really should have chosen a better place to confess to you, rather than the halls of aoba johsai during a lunch period. he loves attention, but for once he decides he hates the stares of the students around the both of you, the air hanging heavily as everyone waits to hear your answer. he knows better than anyone at this moment that this wasn’t the best spot he could have done this, but he couldn’t wait anymore.

“take your time,” you’d always tell him when you were younger. he was never one to listen to that advice.

then again, he was also never one to be the person confessing. it was always him getting the confessions. he feels his face burn with embarrassment and fear that you’ll reject him.

you accept his confession with stars in your eyes.

he paints your skies with the galaxies he keeps in his pockets. he lays in your arms with a dazed smile on his face, your hands carding through his hair.

“you’re ruining it.” he complains with a pout.

you hum, “i have an inquiry box, you know.”

“you don’t. i think you should get one, i have a lot of complaints to put in.”

“is that so? you can go ahead and fuck right off, then.” you try not to laugh when you roll him off of you.

he whines, “i was joking!” he crawls his way back into your arms and settles himself between your legs.

after a period of silence, he brings up your promise from long ago. “let’s travel the world together?” he mumbles, as if he was shy to ask.

oikawa tooru is shy, you think with amusement. you may as well enjoy it while you can.

“hm? where’s this coming from?”

he buries his head in your shoulder in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. you won’t mention how you can see the tips of his ears turning red.

“don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” he pouts, “remember? you promised we would.”

“ah, that’s right. i did.”

“so, can we?”

“well, i promised, didn’t i? promises are made to be kept.” you say, as if you both aren’t broke highschool students worried about college applications.

“where would we go first?”

“hmm. i’ve always wanted to visit argentina since we watched that professional volleyball game when we were younger. you know, the one where you had that dude sign your—“

“stop! stop! and for your information, his name was jose blanco! and don’t bring that up, please, it’s embarrassing. you just love watching me suffer, don’t you?”

“not my fault you decided to—“

“so!” he interrupts again to save himself, “argentina? we can do argentina.” he smiles against the exposed skin of your shoulder, his hand playing with your fingers.

“and then after that, let’s visit france. and then i’d like to see the philippines, too. so many places to visit, too little time and money, jeez.” you continue to ramble, your hands reaching for your nightstand to grab and place the paper crown displayed on it onto your boyfriend’s head.

he listens to your rambling intently, fully ready to do everything he can to make both your dreams a reality.

oikawa thinks his heart might explode out of his chest at the thought that he was lucky enough to fall in love with the girl with paper crowns and stars in her eyes.

fin.

[olliepig]

Centre Stage, ch 10

It’s taken a while thanks to real life thoroughly kicking my ass, but the next chapter is finally here! Massive thanks to my amazing beta and cheerleader @willow-salix, who, along with @misssquidtracy, @sugar-fiend, @inertplanetary and @chenria have all variously listened to me moaning and picked me up over the last few months. 

As always, the whole thing is also on AO3 here.

**************

Tucking his phone into his pocket, Scott pushed himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against, letting his long legs quickly take him around the groups of tourists as he made his way back towards the entrance to the gardens of the Peterhof. The unplanned alone time while Cat was stuck in an overrunning rehearsal had been a rare treat that he’d made the most of, exploring almost every inch of the palace and its extensive grounds as he enjoyed the peace of solitude that was hard to find on the busy island.

Now, alerted to her imminent arrival, he glanced at his watch impatiently, calculating that, despite her lateness, they would still have a gloriously uninterrupted twenty hours together before she was due back at the theatre the following evening.

Her debut with the Mariinsky Ballet in St Petersburg was a big deal, and he’d lost count of the number of times she had told him about the history of the company and the honour of being asked to dance with them. Her excitement had been infectious and, despite it causing a raised eyebrow from his dad when he had asked for the time off rota to attend, he wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

He was ashamed to admit that he hadn’t officially told his father about her, despite them having been dating for close to eight months. He knew Jeff wasn’t stupid and was completely aware that he had a girlfriend, but something had always held him back from sitting down with him and bringing it up. The obvious time for that would have been right after his return from the Oort Cloud, but it had been such early days in their relationship that he hadn’t wanted to do anything that might put more pressure on it. As the weeks went on and they grew closer, it never seemed to be the right time and, with every passing week, it   became harder and harder to admit that it had been going on the whole time.  

Turning his collar up against the bitterly cold wind coming off the Baltic Sea, Scott made it to the entrance just in time to see a sleek black car pull in. A smile crept onto his lips as he caught sight of Cat peering out at the golden domes of the palace behind him, reminding him of her first arrival onto the island where he was completely ignored in favour of Two behind him. This time, however, he didn’t have to fight for her attention when she got out.  She flew into his arms, catching his lips with hers in a fierce kiss before disentangling herself.

“Well, hello there,” Scott smiled as she grabbed her bag from the back of the car, slamming the door with a force that made him wince. “It’s nice of you to finally join me.”

“Oh shut it,” Cat grinned in response, taking the opportunity to snuggle back into him again. “It couldn’t be helped today and well you know it. Anyway, you know I’m worth the wait.”

“You sure are,” he agreed, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as he tightened his arms around her, taking comfort from her presence. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she murmured as she pulled back, taking him in properly for the first time, his pale skin and the dark circles under his eyes making her eyes widen in surprise. “Are you OK?” she asked, concern firing through her, “You look tired.” “I always look tired,” Scott countered, meeting her gaze briefly before quickly looking away, finding a passing bird very interesting as he saw the worry written on her face.

“OK then, smartarse,” Cat pressed, his lack of eye contact making her even more suspicious that something was amiss. “You look more tired than usual.”

“I’m OK, honestly,” Scott reassured her, finally looking at her properly, his eyes a studied calm that Cat didn’t fully trust. “It’s just been a busy week that’s all. You don’t need to worry.”

Cat nodded slightly, accepting his answer without further comment but making a mental note to keep an eye on him over their time together. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew him well enough to know when something wasn’t quite right and all her instincts were screaming at her, telling her that this was one of those times.

“Shall we?” Scott asked, effectively changing the subject as he gestured to the entrance before them.

“Lead on,” she declared as they set off. They navigated their way through the imposing gates and past the grand palace, following the path that Scott had discovered on his previous exploration that would take them into the lower gardens with their spectacular fountains.

Despite the significant difference in their height, they fell into a comfortable stride with each other, Cat matching Scott’s pace with ease as they made their way around the beautiful grounds. Her hand fitted perfectly in his and he found himself absentmindedly tracing circles on her soft skin with his thumb as they walked together, not feeling the need to talk as they simply enjoyed being in each other's company for the first time in several weeks.

Cat lost track of time as they wandered, marvelling at the multitude of little fountains and walkways that littered the Lower Gardens. Scott confidently led the way down paths covered by archways of carefully trained trees, their fresh Spring leaves rustling as they provided merciful shelter from the contrasting warmth of the sun and the coldness of the breeze.

Finally coming out into the open, they came to a halt underneath the rear aspect of the palace, taking in the full vista. The late afternoon sun made the golden statues in the fountains sparkle as the water droplets created rainbows in the breeze.

“It’s so beautiful,” Cat sighed wistfully. “It reminds me a lot of Versailles.”

“Funny you should say that,” Scott smiled. “Apparently, Peter the Great extended the original plans after he visited Versailles, so I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it looks so similar.”

“How on earth do you know that?” Cat asked, trying but failing to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

“Because I’m amazing?” Scott tried, batting his eyelashes at her and making her giggle.

“Well yeah, we know you are, but generally, even amazing people need to find stuff out for themselves somehow,” she pointed out, raising an eyebrow as she spoke.

“Aah, but I’m not just any person,” he reminded her.

“Also true, but you’re not known for your interest in Imperial Russian history either, so spill it,” Cat pressed playfully, giving him a nudge and fixing him with her best pleading stare.

“Not fair,” he complained, the effect ruined slightly by the smile playing on the corners of his lips. “You know I can’t resist when you look at me like that.”

“Who said anything about fair,” she laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, batting her own eyelashes a few times for good measure.

“Fine,” he groaned, conceding defeat and wriggling out of her grasp to pull a guidebook out of his pocket. “I had to pass the time somehow when I was waiting for you, so I thought I’d try to learn a few things to impress you when you got here.”

“OK, that might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Cat murmured as she wrapped her arms around him again and buried her face in his shoulder, unsure what she’d done to be so lucky as to have someone as wonderful as him in her life.

Scott didn’t hesitate. Sliding a hand into her hair, he pulled her head back, meeting her lips with his own in a bruising kiss, the intensity of which took both of them by surprise. Pulling back, their eyes met briefly before Cat tightened her grip, burying her face in his shoulder once more as he cradled her head in his hand, holding her close against him, the outside world ceasing to exist.

For a long moment they remained there, cocooned in their own little world, until a sudden flash caught Scott’s eye, jolting him out of his reverie, his whole body stiffening at the first sign of a threat. Looking around he became aware that they had attracted quite the crowd, a number of whom were snapping pictures of them. Most concerningly was the woman he could see further behind the rest with what looked to him to be a telephoto lens on a professional camera. Immediately, he lost all sense of calm as his mind started working through all the options for getting them out of the situation.

Sensing his discomfort, Cat pulled back, looking up at him, taking in his troubled eyes before craning her head around to try and see what was upsetting him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, only seeing groups of people milling around and flashing a smile at someone who seemed to be taking pictures of them.

“There’s a photographer over there,” Scott told her quietly, not wanting to make a scene and draw even more attention to them.

“OK,” Cat agreed warily, her smile fading as she took in his serious demeanour, unclear as to why he was suddenly so worried about being photographed when it had happened plenty of times in the past. “And this is a problem because…?”

“Because some of these pictures will end up in the press, and then we’ll have to decide whether to confirm or deny the speculation about our relationship,” Scott finished, suddenly unsure as to whether to keep her close or put some distance between them.

“Why do we have to do either?” Cat asked, looking up at him in confusion. “Can we not just let them talk and while they’re busy doing that, we can get on with our lives?”

“I mean, I guess that could be an option?” Scott mused uncertainly, his mind still whirling with the ramifications of them being pictured together as he reluctantly let go of her and dropped his arms to his sides.

Refusing to let anyone put an enforced distance between them, Cat discreetly slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. She looked around, trying to decide on the best way to get them away from the situation that seemed to be making Scott so uncomfortable. Spotting a narrow path, she moved off, leading him away from the Grand Cascade and into a more secluded area in which she hoped they could talk more privately. Walking together quietly, she could feel him relaxing as the onlookers thinned out, allowing her the space to gather her thoughts before continuing the conversation.

The idea of making a private relationship public had always seemed absurd to her and wasn’t a subject she’d thought they would have to decide on so soon, despite the constant media interest in the love lives of the Tracy brothers and the fact that Selene had been erroneously linked with Scott only a few months before. While a few pictures of them together had made their way into the press already, they had just laughed about them and brushed them off, so she had no reason to think that any others wouldn’t be treated the same way. But Scott’s reaction, and their current conversation, suggested that she’d been mistaken about that and was going to have to think quickly.

“I’ll be honest, I hadn’t really given this a lot of thought yet,” Cat admitted, breaking the silence. “My instinct is to say nothing because it really isn’t any of their business, but I don’t know if that’ll make life harder in the long run.”

“Well, in my experience, when the press think that there’s a story, they’ll pick at it until it’s either confirmed or denied,” he replied with a sneer of disdain. “I don’t particularly like my private life being splashed across the papers, but if it comes to it, I don’t have any issues with putting a statement out confirming that we’re dating in the hopes that you’ll be left alone if we take away the mystery before it even arises.”

“Wow,” Cat breathed, her heart skipping a beat at the realisation that he was prepared to sacrifice some of his fiercely guarded privacy to shield her from the press. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to do that.”

“Of course I would; I love you,” Scott declared, stopping to pull her into him for a kiss, amazed that she could possibly think that he wouldn’t do anything to make sure that she was protected. “I don’t have any issues with telling the world if it means you’re not hounded for a story. I’m just worried that if we don’t say anything, you’ll end up being the prime target for them because you’re much more accessible than I am, so really, it’s your decision. We both need to be happy with what we do but I think it’s only right to be led by you here.”

“I just don’t know,” Cat sighed as they started walking again. “I don’t like the idea of having the press at my door, but if we say something, my concern is that my family will find out and start trying to find a way back into my life because of who you are.”

“Yeah, I can understand that, and given your previous experiences with them, I can’t say I’m surprised you’re worried about that,” Scott sympathised, giving her hand a squeeze of reassurance. “But just remember that if they do start bothering you, you’ve got my full support now and I’ll do everything I can to help in any way that you want.”

“Thank you,” Cat smiled gratefully as they came to a stop at a viewpoint looking out over the Baltic Sea. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“There's nothing you have to face on your own now, remember that,” Scott reassured her, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and smiling as she leant into his touch. “The way I see it, we have two options right now. We either put out a press release, confirm that we’re together before the speculation gets too much and deal with whatever consequences come our way from your family, or we say nothing, continue as we are and deal with whatever that brings us in terms of disruption if the press interest becomes too much for you.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, not particularly wanting to make a decision but knowing that she had to. Her privacy was important to her too and not just because of her family, so the thought of the world knowing about her still relatively new relationship made her deeply uncomfortable. Equally, the idea of potentially having the press at her theatre or worse, following her home, didn’t exactly fill her with joy either.  

Snuggling into him against the bitingly cold wind, she took a moment just to enjoy the feeling of his arms around her, holding her close and reminding her that they were in this together, regardless of what they decided.

“Neither option sounds great, does it?” she admitted as the silence stretched between them, knowing that the decision was hers alone.

“Not really,” Scott agreed sadly, tightening his arms around her just a little bit more. “Trust me, I wish we didn’t have to deal with this sort of thing but unfortunately it seems to come with the territory.”

“I know,” she replied softly. “I guess I kinda knew we’d have to decide on this at some point. I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Or in Russia.”

“Yeah, I have to admit that this wasn’t top of my list of places I thought we’d be when we had to have this conversation,” Scott laughed.

“Right,” Cat declared, straightening up in a way that told Scott a decision had been made, causing him to release her from his arms. “I say that we just let the press stew. We’ve done perfectly well without confirming anything so far, and I sort of feel that as soon as you tell the world about something, you start to get expectations put on you about it and I don’t know about you, but I cannot be fucked dealing with that shit.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Scott smiled, leaning over to press a soft kiss on her head as they leant on a railing next to each other, looking out to sea.

“It’s a deal then,” Cat declared with an emphatic nod. “Let's get on with our lives and if people want to speculate, then that’s up to them. We don’t even know what’s going to happen if those pictures get published and obviously if the situation changes then we can revisit it, but I think for the moment at least, we’re better off not saying anything.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” he agreed, slinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close as she shivered slightly. “Shall we head back now?”

“Yeah,” Cat agreed readily. “It’s bloody freezing, isn’t it?”

“It really is,” he laughed, offering her his arm before leading the way back into the maze of pathways.

Walking quietly, Cat found that now the mood had lifted, she was much more aware of her surroundings. The part of the gardens by the sea was exquisite and she found herself dawdling, slowing Scott’s stride as she took in all the floral arrangements surrounding an ornate building that Scott informed her was in fact Peter the Great’s summer house, pointing out ones to him that particularly took her fancy.

A persistent chime coming from Scott’s wrist broke their conversation, taking her by surprise and his face, when she glanced up before he answered it, suggested that he was not the only one unhappy about the unwelcome intrusion into their day.

“What is it, John?” he answered smoothly, turning away from Cat as he did his best to hide his displeasure.

“I’m afraid we have a situation,” John informed him. “Four climbers trapped in the Southern Alps. Virgil and Gordon are coming to get you in Two.”

“Can’t they handle it themselves?” Scott asked. “I’m on leave and even if I wasn’t, I’m not exactly on the way.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” John sighed, his displeasure at the task that had befallen him apparent. “I’ve already checked, but Dad - “

“Gotcha,” Scott growled before John could finish. “I’ll be waiting when they get here.”

Cutting the call without even waiting for John’s response, Scott turned on his heel and began to stalk back towards the entrance to the gardens, leaving Cat to scurry along behind him.

Gone was the relaxed attitude of a few moments before and as Cat hurried to keep pace, she took in the firm set of his jaw and the way his eyebrows gathered together. She was at a loss as to his response to John’s call. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for leave to be cut short or cancelled at the last moment because of a rescue, and his reluctance to jump into action was very out of character.

The more she thought about it, the more she realised that John’s demeanour on the call had been strange too. It wasn’t the first time that he had called to report a rescue while Scott had technically been on leave but from what little she had seen, there seemed to be a tension there that she’d never been aware of in the past.

“Sorry about this,” Scott started as they reached the car park and found space large enough for Two to land, helped by the late hour and the fact that the majority of tourists had left for the day.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Cat reassured him, taking his hand in her own and giving it a squeeze as she scanned his face for clues. “It’s not the first time this has happened, and I very much doubt it’ll be the last.”

“I know,” Scott sighed, seeming to deflate a little as he stood. “It’s just really frustrating that’s all.”

“You sure that’s all that’s bothering you?” Cat pushed, no more convinced by Scott’s words than he was.

“I sure am,” Scott replied, the forced jollity in his tone grating with the tension radiating off him as he forced a smile.

“Fair enough,” Cat agreed, knowing better than to push him.

Getting Scott to talk was a delicate operation when he didn’t want to, and when he was still in the first phase of being angry or upset it was well-nigh impossible. Experience had taught her that giving him some time to process things by himself was essential and forcing the issue at this early stage would be counterproductive in the long run, making him defensive and less likely to talk even when he had calmed down, so she let it lie.

“How long do you think we’ve got before you’re picked up?” she asked, changing the subject as best she could. “Do you think we’ve got time for a walk around the Upper Gardens before they arrive?”

“I reckon so,” Scott smiled, feeling the tension easing just a little as he realised that there wasn’t any immediate need to leave. Even his usual form of transport would take a little time to get to him, and by his calculations, they should have almost an hour before he was needed. “Anyway, it’s not like we won’t see them coming.”

Cat smiled as they turned back into the gardens once more, glad that he seemed to be making the best of the situation, despite his initial reaction. Whatever was going on, she intended to get to the bottom of it, but for now, she was going to make damn sure that they enjoyed the last little bit of time they had before duty took him away again.

-x-

Letting the door swing shut behind her, Cat crossed the room and flopped onto the bed, letting her bag and keycard fall beside her as she sank slowly into the soft mattress. It wasn’t exactly the way she’d expected to return to the hotel when she’d left that morning, and she eyed the bottle of champagne that she’d ordered accusingly, as if it was responsible for her lack of company, her mind whirling as she tried to piece together the events that had brought her here.

It wasn’t the first time they had been forced to change plans because of a rescue, but it was the first time that Scott had seemed genuinely angry about it. There had always been a quiet acceptance that it was part and parcel of what he did and while it had been a blow, he had never seemed as angry as he had been when the call came through that afternoon. The way he’d cut John off and then cancelled the call without waiting for a reply had made her wonder whether there was something going on that she wasn’t privy to, and it was fast becoming a nagging doubt that her mind wouldn’t let go of.

All her instincts told her that something to do with his dad held the key to the mystery, but she had no idea what it could be. They had promised to be completely open and honest with each other and until now, Scott had never given any hint that there was anything that he was keeping from her so she hadn’t had any indication that something might be amiss.

As she started thinking back however, she realised that there had been a steady decline in the amount of times that he had mentioned Jeff over the past months, aside from brief updates about his health. When he was first back on Earth, a large portion of their conversations had focussed on how he was and Scott’s hopes for his recovery, but they had steadily lessened over time and now it seemed that he barely featured. It seemed to have happened so subtly in the six months since his rescue that she hadn’t even noticed it at the time, but given the afternoons’ events, she found herself wondering if it was more than just the natural waning of interest in a well discussed subject.

With a start, she realised that Scott never brought him up any more, and a sudden chill ran through her at the thought that when she asked after him, he had started giving the briefest of answers before rapidly changing the subject. Given his desperation to get their father home again and the risks they had all taken in doing so, it now struck her as strange that he was not the centre of more of their discussions. Aside from this, there was nothing to suggest that anything was amiss and Cat found herself desperately hoping that her instincts were incorrect, but no matter how she dressed it up, Scott’s reaction to John mentioning him seemed out of character and spoke of some underlying issue that she wasn’t aware of.

Unable to lie still any longer, she hauled herself up, pulling her phone out of her bag and dropping it on the bed before quickly tidying the rest of her belongings away in the wardrobe. It wasn’t in her nature to be fastidiously neat but she knew how much her messiness irritated him and, while Scott had never made her feel bad about it or like she had to change for him, she wanted to make sure he had a nice, tidy room to come back to when he returned.

Finding that the movement was calming her mind, she allowed herself a few moments to stretch out her legs which were beginning to protest a little after a full day of rehearsals followed by the long walk around the gardens of the Peterhof. She knew they would be absolutely fine in the morning regardless of what she did, but the familiar stretches soothed her and gave her the thinking space to decide what to do next.

Her stomach rumbling alerted her to a more immediate need to order some food. Dinner reservations had already been missed so she quickly grabbed the room service menu and ordered herself some pasta for a quick energy fix, trying to not feel too regretful of the beef stroganoff that she desperately wanted but knew would leave her too bloated and uncomfortable for her performance the next day.

She had no idea how long Scott was likely to be. Although she very much hoped it would be a simple rescue, she was thankful that at least he had another keycard to the hotel room from when he had dropped off his bags before they met so there was no need for her to stay up until he got back. With nothing to do but wait for both her dinner and her boyfriend, she grabbed her phone and perched herself on the small seat in the window, idly watching the cars go by as she scrolled through her contacts until she found the one she needed.

“Catriona, what a lovely surprise,” Penelope answered, her voice sounding strangely tinny through the phone speaker. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“Oh, charming,” Cat laughed. “Can’t a girl even give her best friend a call with no warning these days?”

“I just meant that I thought Scott was with you this weekend,” Penny huffed, though Cat could hear the smile in her voice.

“He is,” Cat confirmed. “Well, he was. He’s been called out on a rescue.”

“So you thought you’d call me to pass the time?” Penny queried.

“Something like that, yeah,” Cat agreed, finding herself annoyingly at a loss for words, her worry about the outcome suddenly outweighing her desire to ask Penny’s opinion.

“Well, you've caught me at a good time. I’m just on my way to dinner with the Swedish ambassador.”

“Ooh, that sounds fancy,” Cat cooed. “Are you in the car just now? And am I on speaker?”

“I certainly am, and yes, you are now,” Penny confirmed after a small pause, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

“Hi, Parker,” yelled Cat, hoping that her friend had taken the phone far enough from her ear to avoid being deafened.

“Hello, Miss Catriona,” Parker replied without missing a beat, quite used to Cat’s tradition of greeting him as he was driving, one that had started when the girls were at school together.

“Now that you’ve got that out of the way,” Penny continued seamlessly, changing the phone back to its more private setting, “how are the rehearsals going?”

“Yeah, they’ve been fine, thanks,” Cat confirmed. “No matter how many lessons I got from John, my Russian is still pretty much non-existent but everyone speaks good English so it’s not been too bad.”

“Well, that’s good,” Penny replied. “And are you all set for tomorrow?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. The stage is massive though and the rake on it is more than anything I’ve ever danced on before so it’s a bit daunting. I don’t want to travel so far downstage during the fouette’s that I fall into the orchestra pit.”

“Yes, I can imagine that being a concern,” Penny soothed. “I’m sure you’ll be wonderful as always.”

“I hope so…” Cat tailed off, the weight of expectations for the following night weighing on her in a way that they hadn’t until now.

Admitting her fears made it feel like a lot to handle. Dancing Swan Lake with the company that it had originally been created on nearly 200 years before was scary enough, without the added stress of worrying about whatever was going on with Scott. She’d very much hoped for a relaxed evening that night, but it clearly wasn’t going to be on the cards.

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked when the silence stretched out between them. It wasn’t like Cat to sound so overwhelmed, and worry spiked through her.

“Nothing,” Cat sighed. “I just… Do you know if everything’s OK on the Island?”

“As far as I know,” Penny replied, her interest piqued. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t really know. Scott just seemed really tired and he wasn’t at all happy about being called out, which is really unlike him,” Cat replied, the words tumbling out now that she had opened the dam.

“I’m sure he was just disappointed to have to leave you,” Penny soothed. “And as far as him being tired goes, he’s probably just been burning the candle at both ends again. You know what he’s like.”

“That’s what he said but I just don’t know,” Cat sighed, rubbing her face with her free hand. “Something just doesn’t seem quite right.”

“I could always ask Gordon or see if I can find anything for you if you’re worried?” Penny asked, keen to do whatever she could to help out.

“No, no it’s OK. I don’t want to go snooping.” Cat squeaked, instantly regretting her choice to involve her friend. “Scott’ll tell me when he’s ready if there’s anything going on. I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry.”

“OK, well it’s your decision,” Penny replied smoothly. “The offer is always there if you want.”

“Thanks, but I couldn't invade his privacy like that,” Cat declared, already feeling uneasy about involving Penny in something that she was now sure Scott would rather be kept private.

“Yes, it might not be very popular,” agreed Penny.

“Anyway, how’re you?” Cat asked, rapidly changing the subject now that she was convinced that there wasn’t anything obvious going on that she’d missed. “How was that thing you and Gordon went to the other week?”

“Oh, the Governor’s garden party? Yes, it was lovely,” Penny confirmed, a hint of frustration in her voice making Cat instantly wary, even before she elaborated on the event. “Gordon though… well, you can’t take that boy anywhere.”

“Uh oh, what did he do?” Cat asked, moving away from the window and settling herself in a chair, feeling the need to be comfortable while she dealt with whatever complaints were heading her way.

This wasn’t the first time that Gordon’s natural exuberance had caused Penny to air her grievances about his behaviour after an event, but if she was honest, Cat had only occasionally felt that they were justified. The few events of this type that she had been forced to attend had been painfully boring and very restrictive in what was acceptable and her sympathies almost always lay with the aquanaut. However, her loyalty to her friend ran deep and so she felt she needed to be there to support and help in any way she could.

“Well, firstly, he wandered off while I was talking to the Governor's wife and was nowhere to be seen,” Penny began, her clipped tone making Cat wince slightly, her anger apparent. “And then when I did find him, he was in a corner of the grounds, playing what looked like rounders with some of the children.”

“And this was bad because…?” Cat asked, genuinely unsure as to why Penny was so upset about it.

“Because everyone knew he was with me and it is not how one is supposed to behave at these sorts of things,” Penny huffed. “There were lots of very important people there and I heard a good number of them making comments about it. There were chaperones employed to occupy the children so there was no need for him to be involved.”

“OK, I understand why that might be a bit embarrassing, but it sounds exactly like something Gordon would do,” Cat countered, wanting to challenge her a little.

“He used to act like this as a child,” Penny grumbled, the anger still evident in her voice. “He should have grown up by now.  Anyway, it wasn’t just that. I spoke to him about it and he apologised but then he disappeared again and I found him holding a platter of canapes and offering them to people. Apparently, a waitress had fallen and he was ‘just trying to help,’ but that’s what the staff were there for. It��s unheard of for a guest to behave in such a manner.”

Cat sighed. She could see where Penny was coming from and why Gordon’s actions would have been embarrassing to her at the time, but that didn’t mean that it was the disaster that she was making it out to be. Getting her to admit she was overreacting was a delicate task, but she had time on her hands and she felt like she owed it to Gordon to at least try.

“Admittedly I don’t know him as well as you do,” she began cautiously, picking her words carefully, “but again, that sounds like something that’s absolutely in character for him. I know for a fact that Scott would too if it had been him that was there.” “In normal circumstances, yes, helping someone who has fallen is admirable,” Penny agreed, a concession that Cat was surprised she had made so quickly. “But you know how stuffy these events are. I don’t like some of it any more than I’m sure Gordon does, but it’s what is expected and you need to play a part to fit in. My standing depends on it and I simply cannot be shown up like that by my guests.”

“I know,” soothed Cat. “But remember, all of the boys save people for a living so it’s basically instinct for them now. Gordon probably just saw someone in need and went to do whatever he could to help her.”

“I know, but I just need him to think a bit more about where we are and the image he’s projecting,” Penny sniffed, the anger slowly leaving her voice.

“I understand that, but just don’t go nagging him too much, OK?” Cat warned. “Just remember that it was his attitude of making the most of every opportunity and grabbing life with both hands that was one of the things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. I know you’re pissed off just now, but you can’t just expect him to turn that off when it doesn’t suit you.”

Silence stretched between the friends as Cat’s words hit home. Ordinarily, she would have tried to fill the gap, offering more advice or sympathy for how Penny was feeling but she was suddenly worn out. She’d lost track of the number of times she’d had conversations just like this one with Penny over the years, her boyfriends never quite living up to her exacting standards.

“I know,” Penny finally replied, her voice unnaturally quiet. “Anyway,” she added, sounding much more like herself, “his heart was in the right place and I suppose that’s the most important thing, not what everyone else thinks.” “I think you’re right there,” Cat agreed, her energy lifting now that Penny seemed to have accepted her words. “Nobody's perfect, but you’ve got a good one with a heart of gold and ultimately that’s who you fell in love with.”

“It certainly is,” Penny agreed. “Anyway, darling, I’m just about to arrive so I need to go.”

“No worries,” Cat smiled. “My dinner should be here soon anyway so I’d better head off too. Have a fun evening.”

“I’m not sure I’d call it fun but I’m sure it will be fine,” Penny laughed, the smile back in her voice again now that they were on more neutral topics. “Best of luck tomorrow, not that you’ll need it. Goodbye.”

“Byeeee,” Cat sang cheerily, hanging up the call as she crossed back to her perch in the window.

Looking down idly once more at the cars speeding past on the street below, Cat let her mind wander back over the conversation with Penny. It definitely didn’t seem to her like Gordon had made any massive mistakes, and even Penny herself had admitted that she didn’t always agree with the expected behaviour at the events she was so often called upon to attend.

Having been in attendance at some of these events herself in the past, she had first-hand experience of the rigidity of the class division between guests and staff. She had always found it laughable and so her sympathies were firmly with Gordon for acting as he had, especially in regard to the waitress. In any other circumstances, Penny would have been commending his behaviour, so she knew that her friend's anger had come from embarrassment caused by the situation rather than any real judgement on his actions.

Cat sighed, hoping that Penny would allow Gordon the time to mellow into the experience of attending high society events and not become too overbearing in her desire to help him fit in. Even though her concern always came from a place of generosity, Cat had found to her cost that it was sometimes misplaced and unwanted and she was well aware of how hard it could be not to get swept along with her, although she had a sneaking suspicion that Gordon might stand a better chance at avoiding it than most.

Quickly shrugging away unwelcome memories of her own painful experience of being on the receiving end of Penny’s help, she checked the time on her phone, wondering where her dinner was as her stomach let out another loud grumble of protest. No reassuring message from Scott telling her that he was on his way back was yet forthcoming either she noted, so she figured she probably had at least another hour or so before he was back too, depending on the complexity of the rescue.

She had to admit that she felt a little calmer than she had before now that she knew Penny wasn’t aware of anything that could be causing issues on the island. Aside from her obvious concern that Scott was unhappy, the fact that John seemed to share his anger had made her worry that her physical distance from the family meant that she had missed a more general issue and hadn’t been a support to him when he had needed her.

It was clear to her now that the issue was perhaps more limited to Scott and possibly John as she was sure that if Gordon was directly involved, then Penny would have known about it too. A little twinge of guilt spiked through her at the thought that she might have given Penny a hint of something that he might have rather be kept private but she shot it down quickly, reminding herself that she had only asked in the most general sense, not mentioning anything to do with her own suspicions as to the cause of his earlier anger.

A sharp knock at the door shook her out of her musings and sent her scurrying across the room to retrieve her dinner, having to stop herself from grabbing it from the bemused looking porter on the other side. Her stomach growled at the delicious smells radiating from the plate in front of her as she settled herself down at the small table and tucked in, but her troubled mind continued to whirl. All of her instincts were screaming at her that something was going on so, with a sigh, she grabbed her phone and scrolled through to find the number she needed. Placing it down, she drummed her fingers on the table as she listened to the rings until finally it was answered.

“Hiya Tippytoes!” sang the voice on the other end.

“Selene? Can I ask you something?”

[catzula]

can i req dazai x f!reader where dazai and her are kinda best friends(both of them hv feelings for each other)She’s is v cunning and manipulative using whatever means she can to get informations. They don’t want to confess to each other and they keep their feelings v well & it took one life threatening injury for him to confess to her like she’s at the brink of death fluff ending pls :)) omg this is so detailed

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long to write! Bt ughh, this is my first request, and thank you so much for sending it! Hope you like it :)))

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x fem!Reader

Genre: angst with a good ending

Warnings: mentions of blood, some bad writing here and there, 3k words cuz I have no chill

***

You watched the brunette man as he sipped his drink. You knew you shouldn't watch him like this, should conceal the love that was written all over your face.

He was a smart man, was one of the smartest people you have ever got to know. You knew he could figure the feelings you have harvested towards him if he wanted to, but you were also aware he chose not to notice these feelings that were so dear to you.

It would have been better to be away from him, as far as possible, but you found yourself becoming friends with him, it took only the smallest time before you two became best friends.

"I see you can't take your eyes off of me." He said with a playful wink. He grabbed his drink off the counter and sat on the chair next to you. "I was just wondering when you'll stop staring at me." Your words had a harsher tone than you would have liked, but he understood it anyway.

"But how can I not stare when there's such a beauty in front of me?" You knew these words had no romantic meanings behind them, that they were only a joke.

"Well, that's true."

"Of course it is." He looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. You were a natural at reading people, their feelings, and their thoughts, but when it came to Dazai, you were as good as blind. You could never understand what he was thinking, not when he was looking at you this way.

"What is it?" He asked after a few seconds of silence. You two were in a bar, in the middle of a group of people, but it felt like you were alone. How did he understand something was troubling you? How could he read you so good when you couldn't even tell what he felt?

You smiled, a sly smile you wore when you were playing with someone. Dazai didn't miss the smile either, as his playful girn wavered slightly, he eyed you like he was trying to read your mind. "How is work, Dazai? You never tell me anything these days."

"You know I can't afford to take the risk of telling you. I can't tell if you're interested in my life or my secrets." He shrugged as he smiled, and although he had a smile on, you knew he was serious.

"What do you think?" You winked, but you felt a frown tugging on your lips. You drank what's left of the burning liquid in your glass, not letting him see you were hurt. Dazai not trusting you was a wound you had, he was your best friend after all, but you didn't get any say much about it.

You watched as Kunikida started to lecture Atsushi on something, and it was aware that the subject was something Kunikida gave great importance. You laughed at the sight since this scene happened almost every time you were here. You weren't an official part of the armed detective agency, but they often called you in to help with some missions. They were mainly detective work that required someone who could get any information from anyone.

Although you weren't like them, you didn't have abilities as they did, you had something even better. You were good at reading people, leading them, making them think whatever you wanted them to think, and making them believe they were the genius behind the idea.

You were a natural at manipulating people, had a wit that could even put up with Dazai. You were proud of it too, it was how you lived after all, but this meant that no one could trust you. You knew it was frightening to be manipulated like a puppet, but you would have liked people to trust you. At least, for him to trust you.

But it was your fault, too. Dazai did trust you at one point in his life, but when he realized you had been taking information from him to give your boss, it was too late. When he figured it out, he wasn't mad at you, didn't even complain, say anything about it, but he stopped trusting you with his secrets, his thoughts, his feelings.

Dazai knew if he was going to be close to you, he had to conceal everything about himself, the attraction he felt towards you coming in first. When he figured your manipulative, sly personality he was amazed, and he just wanted to be close to you. You were on his mind constantly, even occupying the thoughts of suicide.

He wasn't hurt when you used him for information, it was your nature, and he had grown to love this personality of yours, but he had to close himself towards you too.

He smirked when he saw you looking at him, your eyes wandering over his face, trying to figure out what was on his mind. He was about to say something when Kunikida groaned. "You two stop flirting already! Our guy is here."

The playful mood changed almost instantly. Everyone turned their eyes to the man who had just entered the bar, except for Dazai. You could feel his eyes on you, but you ignored it, focusing on your work.

You looked at the man, analyzing him, figuring a way to approach him. He was probably was in his 20's, wore a tailored suit, an expensive-looking watch and shoes, although the leather shoes were muddy and dirty, a very sharp contrast to his fancy clothes and nicely done hair, indicating he had come here straight after his 'work'.

He was the son of a billionaire, a dirty billionaire who was working with the mafia. The armed detective agency was after some secret files, and all you had to do was to find out where these files were, after that they were going to handle it. You watched as the man sat on the bar seat, ordering whiskey for himself.

You inhaled an anxious breath and gathered up your courage. This wasn't the first time you were doing something like this, but there was always a risk, and you couldn't afford to relax.

You started to walk towards him with a flirty smile, a smile you have mastered in the past years. You sat next to him, touching his arm lightly and making him focus on you. You saw the small gleam on his eyes when his eyes wandered over your body, the black dress you were wearing, your legs, and your breasts.

You smiled. It was going to be easier than you had thought.

~~~

Dazai hated that he had to watch you smile to the man, touch him, get close to him, watch him looking at you like you were meat on a silver plate. His hands brushed your legs experimentally, sometimes wandering a little too much.

You never even glanced once in his way, but he knew it was because you were a professional, and that could lead you to blow your cover. You were the best at what you did, and he was amazed by you, but now it felt like it was burning him inside. Though, that burning sensation could be the alcohol too.

"They're going." Kunikida stood up as you exited the bar and went in his car.

~~~

"I think I drank a little too much." You said with a neatly faked drunken smile, slurring your words on purpose. Your eyes scanned the car in merely seconds, thinking of the possible places he could have hidden the files as he buckled his seatbelt.

You leaned on him, nuzzling your face in his neck as you secretly checked his side of the door to see if the files were there, they were not. "Is your place close?" You asked kissing his neck softly. He chuckled at your needy behavior and started the car. "Don't worry, you're gonna get what you're asking for in a few minutes."

For some reason, that sentence just didn't seem right, but you concealed your worry immediately.

"I- I feel dizzy. Do you have any water?" You asked as you acted to open the glove box. His eyes widened as he tried to stop you from doing so, but you were quicker.

Bingo.

The files were in there, his eyes looked at you cautiously as you pouted slightly. "Ugh, paperwork! How boring." You said as you closed it back, though your heart was racing. You hadn't expected to find them in his car, and you didn't know what you were going to do to get away from him since Kunikida told you he was going to wait for you at his place.

He grinned as he slowed his car. A grin that just didn't sit right with his ignorant attitude, and you shivered but smiled to hide your growing fear.

"Are we at your place already?!" you asked, although you knew you weren't even close to his house. You glanced him sideways only to find him looking at you too. Your heart was beating so fast in your chest, a knot of fear forming in your stomach. "No, we're not."

"But why did we stop? I thought you wanted to-"

"Gotta give you credit. You're an amazing actor. If I didn't know who you were, I would have fallen for this charade instantly." He said, and you noticed his hand going to his back, under his coat. Your eyes widened with fear as you quickly opened your seatbelt and threw yourself out the door, but he caught your arm and pulled you back.

"Oh, no." He said with an expression that sent shivers down your back, his smile reminding you of the Cheshire cat. "You're not going anywhere."

~~~

"Where are they?!" Kunikida said, feeling his worry growing with every passing second. He glanced at the man who sat next to him, a relaxed, uninterested look on his face. But Kunikida knew his friend very well, and he knew Dazai was worried out of his mind.

Dazai knew something was up when you were late. You were never late. He just didn't want to get in the way of your work just because he was jealous, he had noticed his feelings towards you growing, even more, the last few months and Dazai couldn't tell if he was acting irrationally when it was about you. But now it was just too much, he couldn't hold it in anymore and had to find you, or this feeling in his chest was going to kill him.

Dazai stood up, making Kunikida look at him with worried eyes. "Dazai, you cant-" Dazai sent him a look that made Kunikida sure that there was nothing that could stop Dazai now.

Kunikida sighed. "I'm coming with you."

~~~

He had left you on the side of the road as you pressed your hand on your wound, trying to stop the blood. Your hands felt cold, and you couldn't stop them from shaking. Your hands were painted in red, and even though you were dying, you only had one thing, or one person, on your mind. Dazai.

If you closed your eyes, you could almost see his brown eyes looking at you, his lips turned upwards in a playful grin, and you wanted nothing more than for him to be with you now. You wished to tell him how you felt about him, to touch his face, his hair. And most of all, you wanted to at least share one kiss with him before you died.

You felt guilty, dying before him, but your life was draining out of you as your blood escaped your fingers, and you could swear you heard him call your name. Maybe it was your consciousness closing and your mind playing you tricks, but if it was only a dream, you were still glad to have heard his voice one last time.

"No, no, no! Oh shit, Y/N!" Your eyes were closed as you felt foreign hands pressing on your wound, and combing your hair back from your face. Your body was lifted and hugged by arms you have always wished that would hold you.

You gathered your energy to open your eyes, probably for the last time. You were glad you had the strength to do so since you got to see Dazai once again. Though he wasn't smiling, his face was wet because of the tears running down his cheeks. Seeing him crying, you felt like crying too.

You didn't want to die, it was far too early. You had so much that you wanted to do, and now every dream of yours, every thought you had was taken from you. To be aware of the fact that you were never going to be able to do any of these, to know you were never going to make up for your mistakes, never get married, and maybe even have children hurt more than the wound that caused all of this.

And although you didn't have time for anything you wanted to do, there was one exception. There was one thing you could do, and it would be worth everything else.

"I have to tell you something." Your voice was more of a whisper, and you didn't think he had heard you. But he had. "Don't-" he said, unable to hold his tears. "Don't waste your breath now, you'll tell me when you're all better."

You bit your lip, you felt dizzy and knew it was... Close.

"Listen to me." You said, a little stronger this time. Was it selfish what you were doing? Telling him this now, right before you closed your eyes forever, wasn't it selfish? But you had to tell him, selfish or not, you couldn't hold it in. "Dazai-" you said, trying to hold yourself together, "I- I love you."

He hadn't said anything. You couldn't see it then, but it was because he was crying so hard, he was unable to speak. Your body was numb, and you couldn't feel his shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry it had to end like this."

He shook his head side to side, denying to acknowledge that you were slipping to unconsciousness, and he could do nothing to prevent it. "Where is Yosano?!" He screamed at Kunikida, who was watching you from a few meters away. He couldn't gather the courage to see you die.

"She's on her way, she's going to be here in a few minutes." But Kunikida wasn't sure if you even had a few minutes left, and the look he sent to Dazai told that to him too. To this, Dazai inhaled a sharp breath, one filled with worry. He knew if he was going to tell you his true feelings, this could be the last time. And he was tired, tired of acting around you, as he did with everyone else. You were so special to him and he just wanted to be himself around you. Now he didn't know if he was even going to see you again.

His tears slid down his cheek, a single drop touched your now pale face. "I love you too." He said finally, to that you smiled. "I love you- I love you so much. And I... I need you to stay alive, please (Y/N)! I need you to stay with me- as long as we'd like. I can't lose you, I can't lose you to death, to something I have wanted for so long but now... All I want is you."

He went on rambling, not even noticing your eyes were closed and that you were no longer conscious.

~~~

Dazai couldn't remember what happened that night, after his confession. He had only flashbacks of that night, Dazai remembered Kunikida ripping your then oddly heavy body away from his arms, yelling, trying to get you back. From him, from death.

He remembers sitting on the red-stained ground, sobbing, crying as he had never done before.

He remembers Kunikida, who was secretly crying too, trying to lift him to his legs, but Dazai didn't have the strength to stand up.

And now he was sitting at the office, his head buried in his hands, a deadly headache making him groan in pain. Atsumi had tried to approach him, asking him if he was okay, but it took one look from Dazai to send him back to where he was sitting. No one dared to draw closer to him, not when he was in this situation.

His bandages were soaked in blood, your blood, and he couldn't find it in himself to renew them. All he could do was to lift his head when he heard a door open, and every time it was someone else at the door, his body slumped back on the seat he was sitting, feeling even more hopeless.

It wasn't supposed to take this long, he knew how Yosano worked, and it never lasted this much.

So when she opened the door to her infirmary, covered in blood, he thought his heart was going to stop beating. The tired look on her face didn't tell him much either.

"She is sleeping." She said finally. "But she will be okay."

These words felt like heaven to him, and to everyone else that was in the buro. "She- she is alive?" Dazai finally broke the silence, and she shot him an annoyed look. "I just told you she is-" But before she even finished her sentence, a thump came from Dazai's direction, and for the first time in their lives, the armed detective agency witnessed Dazai passing out.

~~~

You slept for almost a week, though it felt like years to Dazai.

He was playing with his bandages when Kunikida entered the room in search of him. When Dazai looked at him with his now almost dead-looking brown eyes, Kunikida shuddered. "She's awake."

These words brought the light back in his eyes in almost an instant. Dazai stood up on his legs and practically ran out of the room.

He had not once gathered the courage to enter your room. He just couldn't bear the thought of seeing you in those covers would be the last time he would see you, and Dazai couldn't afford to have that sight of you to be the very last memory he had of you.

He loved you, but before that, you were his best friend. You were the person he would come to when he didn't feel good, the person he could just sit next to, not needing to say anything.

And embraced with the memories of you, he opened the door.

You were practically lost between the sheets, looked so small and so fragile, his heart ached with the sight.

When your eyes found him, a smile formed on your face. Dazai didn't know what to say, and it seemed like you didn't either. So after a few awkward seconds, you finally said, "I heard you fainted."

He was so tense that he couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up inside him. He tried to suppress it, but he couldn't hold it even for a second as his laughter ringed inside the room.

To that, you started to laugh too. It started as a giggle but turned into laughter in merely seconds. When your laughs both finally died, an awkward feeling took over the room. You were both thinking about the same thing, and it just felt odd.

"Did you mean it?" You finally gathered your courage and asked. His chocolate brown eyes found yours, and for the first time, you could see his feelings in his eyes, you could understand what he was thinking.

You felt a warm sensation in your chest, making you all fuzzy and giddy. "I did mean it. Every single word." He didn't say it, but you knew he was asking you the same thing. "Me too." You answered his silent question, and he smiled. It was a sincere, beautiful smile.

[miraculousbelladonna]

The Edict

This is a little something salty I wrote that was inspired by @musicfeedsmysoul12’s Judgement au. This is my first time putting any of my ML writings out into the world! I will also maybe be posting this on ao3 depending on how it’s received here! So ... if you don’t like salt, don’t interact. 

Summary: The Miraculous Ladybug cure can heal people from any wound inflicted by an akuma, even revive the dead, but if even one of the holders are not the true holders (Marinette is, Adrien isn’t) the weight of the damage done will be inflicted upon the holder of the ladybug miraculous.

Marinette thinks nothing of it, discounts the bruises, soreness, and headaches after every fight as the obligatory battle wounds. She’s clumsy, and not as in shape as a superhero should be, maybe she should drink more water. Make an effort to get some more sleep. She doesn’t think about it.

Until Syren. People drowned. People died. People who were all brought back.

At a cost.

That she paid. That she’s paying.

It starts with coughing. Something is stuck in her chest and it feels like if she coughs hard enough, she can get it out. She doesn’t.

It gets kind of hard to breathe.

It gets worse and becomes pneumonia.

It gets worse.

Her lungs are constantly filling with fluid faster than they can drain it.

She’s drowning. She’s always drowning.

They don’t know why.

They call it “dry drowning,” the body is stuck as the mind moves on, but as far as they know, Marinette wasn’t one of the ones killed in the attack. She is the only one still exhibiting symptoms of drowning, as far as they know, Ladybug had fixed everything, just like she always does. As far as they know.

The science doesn’t add up, it doesn’t make sense. They call in specialists, try to track Ladybug down to ask her what happened, to ask for clarification, for help, but she’s disappeared.

Ladybug is gone.

Marinette is laying in the hospital sick and dying for no discernible reason, no cause that anyone can find, and Tikki is furious.

She knows the cause. She knows the syren body count. She knows exactly how many people were brought back, and she knows why Marinette’s lungs are constantly filling. It won’t stop until she has drowned 1833 times. One for every person she brought back.

She will not survive it.

All because Chat Noir is not the true holder of the miraculous of destruction.

This has only ever happened to her once. She’s lost many chosen, of course, she is as old as life itself, but she has only ever lost one like this, because she went to great pains to ensure it would never happen again.

A grave mistake has been made. At the cost of her chosen. At the cost of the only true creation soul on the earth in this era. Tikki took her time crafting it. She poured in passion, ebullience, excitement, zest for life in its many forms, creativity, determination, loyalty, strength, a dash of luck, sat back to let it coalesce, and let it go. Just being near the girl makes them both more powerful, and Ladybug seems so invincible because she might as well be. She cannot he bested by a mere man or flimsy akuma.

Marinette may not be aware of how powerful she is, but she has time. She has more than enough time to grow and discover herself.

Or rather, she should.

No. She will. Tikki will correct this grievous error.

Marinette will not die. Not like this.

*****

Tikki flew out of the hospital with a purpose. She was glowing faintly because of her anger, it was so overwhelming it was almost too much to contain. She hasn’t been this angry in a millennia, so she didn’t realize that her power was leaking out of her, she didn’t see the flowers blooming and trees flowering as she flew by. She didn’t see the three pregnant ladies sitting in a cafe across the street, nor did she see that each of their waters broke simultaneously.

She needed to see Master Fu. She needed to correct this mistake by whatever means necessary.

She pauses outside of the door to collect herself. She takes a moment to leash her power, and when she sees that the glow around her has dimmed, she goes inside.

Wayzz is floating at attention in the middle of the room, waiting for her. He looks extremely nervous, and it’s bordering on fear. Good. She may be the embodiment of creation, but that in itself doesn’t make her good. She is benevolent, yes, and it’s much easier to be nice than needlessly cruel, but people so often forget how monsters came to be. They forget that she is creation. They forget that she created all of the bad things on Earth just like she created the good. Plagg may be the only living being in existence who truly understands what she’s capable of, although by the looks of him, it seems that Wayzz is remembering.

Remembering who she is. What she is. What she is capable of.

“Tikki,” he starts nervously, bowing his head in respect. “I felt your power unleash all the way across the city. I felt ... your anger. What - what happened?”

“Wayzz,” she inclines her head in acknowledgement of his deference and he relaxes. She knows this isn’t his fault. Her anger is not for him. “I am here to speak with the Guardian.”

Wayzz’s eyes widen, and she knows that he took note of how she addressed Fu, and what it means. He knows that she is here in a professional capacity. She is not here for platitudes and niceties. It takes everything in him not to tremble as he bows his head again, says, “Of course. I will go retrieve him immediately,” and rushes out of the room.

She sighs after Wayzz leaves. She didn’t mean to scare him, and she didn’t mean to get so angry, but mistakes were made and Marinette is suffering. Marinette is fighting for her life and for the lives of everyone who died during Syren, because if she dies so does everyone she brought back, and the least Tikki can do is rectify this error. Make sure it never happens again.

She feels herself beginning to glow again as she remembers the last time this happened. Her anger rises as she remembers that she thought she had already ensured this would never happen again. She doesn’t try to reign in her emotions or her power this time. Fu needs to remember exactly who and what he’s dealing with. It’s time for her to remind him.

Fu looks surprised as he walks into the room. Every potted plant in the room has grown at least five inches taller than they were when he saw them last. He sees Tikki in the middle of the room, glowing with anger that he doesn’t seem to recognize.

If he were smarter, he’d be afraid.

“Tikki, what brings you here at this time of night? Morning? Wayzz, what time is it?”

Wayzz, floating behind him, is quiet and unobtrusive when he replies, “It is currently 6:15 in the morning, Master.”

“6 in the morning? Tikki, surely whatever it was could’ve waited until a more appropriate time.”

Her anger spikes and all the plants in the room grow another three inches. She is shaking with anger. It takes everything in her, will she hasn’t exerted in millennia, to hold her power back. To hold it in.

“My chosen is dying in the hospital right now, there is no more appropriate time. Do you even know why?”

Fu’s face crumples in shock and worry, and he opens his mouth to speak but she cuts him off with a sharp wave of her arm.

“No. Do not speak. For once, you are going to listen. Marinette, as I'm sure you know, is a true creation soul. She is the true creation soul. The only one. And she is currently dying in the hospital because you have made a mistake. A grievous error. I want you to tell me what you think that error might be. I want you to think about why Marinette, a young healthy 15 year old girl, is currently in the hospital dying.” She narrows her eyes at him as he opens his mouth only to shut it again. She gestures for him to speak, and says, “Go ahead.”

“I don’t- I don’t know why she would be in the hospital. Was there an accident?”

Tikki shuts her eyes and breathes in deeply, letting it out in a big sigh. When she opens her eyes again they are tinged with red, glowing just like the rest of her is.

“No. Wrong answer.”

Wayzz moves out from behind Fu and goes to hide behind one of the plants that are steadily growing taller by the minute.

“You see, I could have forgiven this if it were only as a result of your lack of training. I could have given you some leeway. Maybe you misread Adrien’s soul, it happens. True destruction souls are marginally more common than true creation ones. Maybe you didn’t know what would happen when you gave him that ring, that’s understandable. That’s something we might have been able to move past. But, what I cannot, will not forgive, is the fact that you let his behavior go unchecked. You enabled and coddled him and encouraged, no, manipulated Marinette to do the same. It’s been going well enough so far, or I’m sure that’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but today, people died. People died and because Adrien is not a true soul of destruction, because the balance is uneven, Marinette is bearing the weight of the lives of every person she brought back with the cure. She is dying all of their deaths, and it will not stop until she has experienced all 1833 of them.”

Wayzz gasps audibly at the revelation, flying out from behind the plant and going to hover next to Tikki. “Master, please. You didn’t. You couldn’t have. Tell me you didn’t.”

Fu looks away guiltily, unable to answer, and Tikki’s composure snaps.

She’s seething. Her entire body is practically vibrating, and the glow around her gets brighter and brighter until it’s blinding them all. The plants continue to grow even faster, their leaves are all filling the room, clogging it, and it doesn’t stop. She can’t reign her anger back in. She doesn’t want to.

“You have thoughtlessly endangered the lives of not only my chosen, but everyone in Paris time and time again. Did you think you’d get away with it? That Marinette was too young, too naive to speak up? Too nice to complain about what Chat has been doing to her? Did you think that nothing like this would ever happen? That I’d never find out? If so, you are as ignorant as you are stupid, Wang Fu, but regardless, your time is up. You will pay for what you have done to Marinette, and for what you’ve allowed to happen to Paris.”

Fu looks chastened and guilty, but it’s not enough. It will never be enough. Marinette has already died 5 times between when she was admitted last night and now. She’s been brought back every time due to the tireless efforts of the hospital staff, but sometime soon it will not be enough.

“I, Tikki, Kwami of Creation, hereby revoke guardianship of Wang Fu. Every miraculous that you have distributed except for mine will be returned to the miracle box, including yours. You will never again hold or wield a miraculous. You will never be able to speak of this to anyone. You will spend the next month aging to however old you’d be without Wayzz’s interference. You will die alone with nothing to accompany you except for the weight of your own mistakes. Wayzz, will you be my witness?”

Wayzz swallows hard, eyes watering as he looks at Fu, who looks about a step away from getting on his knees and begging. He thinks of Marinette, of what it means to be a true creation soul, and how her soul is on the verge of being snuffed out because of a mistake his Master made, a mistake that has only ever been made once before, and nods. “I, Wayzz, Kwami of Protection, am witness to the revocation of Wang Fu’s guardianship. I concur with everything that Tikki, Kwami of Creation, has decided. The judgement will be enacted whenever she so chooses.”

Tikki speaks in a language as old as time, a tongue that is only known to the Kwami and the Guardian, “The judgement is passed.”

Fu hears the first sentence and drops to the ground in shock. Tikki isn’t done, but whatever she’s saying now, he can’t understand it. He looks up at her and opens his mouth, and finds that he can’t speak to her either. He can’t speak to either of the Kwami. His vision swims the longer he looks at them, and his head starts to throb. He has to turn away. The miraculous is a physical weight on his arm, dragging him down until his arm hits the floor and the bracelet snaps open.

A sort of shock goes through the room, emanating from the both of them out through the building, through the city, and the miracle box opens. Every drawer and shelf in the box opens in unison, and as the turtle miraculous flies into its spot, all of the Kwami fly out of their Miraculi to see what’s happening. They haven’t had a summoning like this in millennia. Something is very, very wrong.

The miraculous of destruction flies into the miracle box, and as soon as it lands Plagg immediately floats out of it. He’s frantic, growing even more so as he sees Tikki glowing with power. “Tikki, I didn’t know. I swear to you that I didn’t know. His soul was already corrupted when he got my miraculous, I didn’t know he wasn’t mine, you know true destruction souls aren’t as rare as creation ones, I couldn’t tell. I know that’s not good enough but sugar cube, I am sorry. I am so truly sorry.”

Tikki looks at him and nods, but doesn’t interrupt her speech. It takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking in the old tongue, and as he listens to what she’s saying, as he turns and sees the wreckage of the overgrown plants, as he sees all the Kwami floating around them, staring at the man who is on the floor crying with his eyes covered and face turned away from them, he realizes what’s happening, and feels his heart turn to stone in his chest.

“Guardianship of the Miraculi will be transferred to Marinette Dupain-Cheng, my current chosen and the acting Ladybug, hero of Paris. Myself and my Kwami brethren will teach her our ways, and teach her how to be a proper Guardian. We will protect her as she has chosen to protect us and all the people of Paris. She will never again be overlooked. She will never again be belittled or made to feel insignificant. She will go down in history as the most powerful Ladybug and the best Guardian the world has ever seen. Who will be witness to this edict?”

Wayzz finds it much easier to speak up this time, and is the first to agree. “I, Wayzz, Kwami of Protection, am witness to this edict.”

Plagg is glaring daggers at the pathetic scrap of a man still crying on the floor. “I, Plagg, Kwami of Destruction, am witness to this edict.”

Another shock goes through the room, the building, the city, at his declaration. The Kwami all glow for a moment with the release of power, and then grow wary at what has had to happen for such power to be released. What happened that meant this power needed to be released?

Either way, they trust Tikki, and they know her. She is Creation, she is life. She is their mother in the sense that she blinked them into existence. She has never steered them wrong. The fact that she is asking for witnesses, even now, instead of just exerting her will as the Goddess of Creation, as is her right, speaks volumes. They have never had a reason to doubt her, for she has never even thought of giving them one.

Tikki is staring at all of them in turn, still glowing with power. The Kwami all inhale collectively, exhale in unison, close their eyes, inhale again to connect to each other, and when their eyes are open they are each glowing in accordance to their power.

“We, the Kwami of the Miracle Box of Paris, are witness to this edict. We accept Marinette Dupain-Cheng as the new Guardian. We will protect her as she has chosen to protect us and the city of Paris. She will never again be overlooked. She will never again be belittled or made to feel insignificant. We concur.”

Tikki takes a deep breath, and as she finishes the summoning, she releases her power in a third and final shockwave that has the lights in the entire city flickering.

“It is done.”

***

Miles away, attached to machines and tubes in a hospital bed, Marinette opens her eyes.