#lost two out of eight and then immediately went “no more” no matter her pride!!!!!

[ghostlyeris]

suvi gets into her first real fight and then immediately calls for help from her true friends, the ones she knows can help her succeed

[absolutepokemontrash]

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

[americxn]

Colin dating single parent reader

request: I have a hc request! :) colin meeting then dating a single mom! reader? i just got this idea & i thought its cute & i love how you write colin :)

thank you so much for requesting, this idea is so cute <3

wordcount: 1.3k warnings: food mention and babies, not really a warning but they can be loud and gross so

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremecist @ikkleroniekins​ @ananad1​ @shlutnutt​ @sanni333​ @mossybank​ @tatesimper​ (dm to be added or removed <3)

When you first met Colin, your baby was eight months old and almost impossible to catch a break around. You were the most exhausted that you had ever been, days and nights blurring into one never ending cycle of broken sleep and frustration; not that it wasn’t worth it, you would endure fifty years of this hell if you meant that your baby was happy and healthy.

Your longtime friend had offered to take you out for lunch as an offer of brief reprieve, seeing how hard you were finding it all recently, especially now that your baby had figured out crawling and developed an insatiable appetite for inedible objects. 

For the fifth time in the past minute, you pushed your partly drained mug of coffee out of the growing reach of your baby’s searching fingers, sighing deeply when they squawked in mounting annoyance in your lap, squirming to free themselves from the arm you had slung around their chubby waist. Your friend smiled as you located a chunk of cucumber from the untouched salad huddled in the corner of your plate, bringing it before your baby’s searching grasp and watching as they took it and immediately brought it to their lips. 

Resuming conversation and now able to eat your own food with the baby occupied, your friend nodded to the side in a subtle gesture with a smirk. “What?” You asked, following the flick of their eyes to the side and looking to where they had gestured. The man sat two tables down from you quickly averted the gaze he had pinned of you, his throat working as he swallowed awkwardly, taking the cup of coffee before him in his hand and bringing it to his lips. He sat alone, a laptop open before him and based on the smart attire he was donned in, you assumed that he had come here to work.

“He’s cute.” You friend stated, wiggling her eyebrows. Forcing your gaze away, you cleared your throat, taking another bite of food whilst nodding in agreement. “Was he looking?” You asked quietly, unsure if he would be able to hear you talking about him from the close distance. They nodded in answer, taking another drink of their coffee with a poorly suppressed smile. You caught Colin glancing not-so-subtly in your direction several more times in the span of an hour, his eyes constantly flicking to watch in intrigue as you interacted with your baby, unable to prevent himself from smiling softly with each giggle you coaxed from the tiny human.

It wasn’t long before he stood from his seat, donning his coat and tucking his laptop under his arm before turning for the exit. Your table happened to be positioned in the path of the door he was aiming for and so on his way past, after spending the past hour hyping himself up, he placed his receipt on the table beside you, offering you a pleasant smile as he continued walking past. Your baby had instantly reached for it but your own hand had intercepted, taking it between your fingers and smiling as you beheld the neatly scrawled phone number he had written out for you on the bottom of the thin paper.

You and Colin began talking instantly, meeting at the same coffee shop mere days later. He took an instant liking to your baby, who in turn developed an infatuation with Colin, smiling widely at him whenever his dark gaze met their own shyly curious one.

Dating followed shortly after and Colin began to spend more time at your apartment than he did at his own house, much to the delight of his mother who had completely melted upon first meeting the two of you, watching on in tearful awe at Colin’s effortlessly perfect interactions with your baby. 

You had been forced to take extended maternity leave after struggling to find someone to take care of the baby during the day, but now with Colin’s mom at home all day and practically begging to take them when you went back to work, everything seemed to fall into place. 

With the return of a steady income, several months later, you and Colin were able put together the funds to buy a house of your own, about a ten minute drive from his mom’s place. Moving in together definitely strengthened your already committed relationship with Colin proving to be a perfectly capable caregiver of your baby.

Colin worked longer days than you but always took the time to provide the two of you with unending love and attention upon returning home, insisting that he was the one to put the baby to sleep after eating together in order for you to have some time alone before he spent the rest of the evening with you.

At night, Colin always tended to the baby to allow you to get more sleep, not caring if he had an eight hour shift starting at 7am the next morning.

The shrill cries of your baby tore through the house, pulling you almost immediately from sleep. With a quiet groan, you moved to push the warm covers from you body. Colin’s hand fell onto your waist, forcing your movements to pause as he too shifted, sitting up in the dark and rubbing your side. “It’s okay. I got this.” His voice was thick was sleep and you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree as your eyes lids grew too heavy to hold open, Colin’s lips warm on your skin as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your brow before slipping from the bed and padding on bare feet out of the room. 

When your baby’s first birthday came around, Colin spent weeks planning it, using all of his free time and work breaks to research ideas and order various decorations and organise venues. You told him to not spend too much but he had just laughed, grinning broadly whilst claiming that "you can’t stop me.” 

He had spared no expense and when the day came, you found yourself reduced to tears with each surprise he revealed, unable to fathom how you had managed to land a man who loved your baby just as much as he loved you; christmas was the same, along with every one of you baby’s birthdays following the first, only getting more and more elaborate as the years went on.

Of course your baby played a vital role in your engagement, Colin having tucked the small velvet box away in their tiny coat pocket and sent them teetering your way:

You paused mid-step on the wide footpath you were meandering down, turning as you heard a quick set of small, uneven footfalls following after you and offering a hand to your baby, grinning in pride as they managed to make their way to you without toppling over. Colin watched a few feet behind, your smile mirrored on his face as he watched the scene unfold before him, sick with nerves. Their little hand delved into their pocket as they reached you, uttering a small noise as they extended their arm up into the air, holding the crimson box out to you.

“What’s this?” You mused, taking the box and flicking it open. The ring residing within was breathtaking and the box almost fell from your grasp when you realised what it was, your head snapping to Colin who watched on in adoration, his eyes wide as he watched your reaction. You had closed the distance between you and threw yourself into his arms in a matter of seconds, tears of joy blurring your vision. Behind you, your baby lost their balance, toppling to the gravel of the path and twisting to watch the passionate embrace, clapping their hands softly despite not understanding what was actually happening.

((divider credits: @kawaii-lau​ ))

[starshiningsirius]

Like old times (Yandere Azul x reader)

@bryzie27 - i like what you did with overblot leona. could you do something similar with overblot azul?

Not sure what you mean like the chase scene? The dynamics of Octanivelle's structure still aren't quite clear to me if they can go out in the water but I'll try!

I FORGOT THE GIF IS FROM @flowerofthemoonworld !

Let's give the octopus some love!

"Hey, your Azul right?"

He lifted his head to look at who had spoken to him. It was a mermaid with a strange speckled tail that added to her beauty. She seemed to be more of the reserved type. Her hair had two streaks of the same color on either side of her face and the rest was all one color. Her eyes shimmered radiantly.

He could feel a rush of heat claim his entire face.

"Here." She handed him his books.

"W -why are you doing this?" The young octopus sniffled.

He wasn't expecting this, not with the way everyone else treated him. It didn't make any sense why you'd treat him kindly. A freakish eight legged merman who couldn't swim correctly.

"It's the right thing to do, Azul. I couldn't just swim away with you like this. It'd be immoral."

From that first encounter on forward they became friends. She helped him walk and swim a bit better considering he found it embarrassing. She didn't even have tentacles yet she instructed him so well.. Maybe he inked once or twice, a few times around her on accident, he swears! It didn't matter she was fine with it. She didn't mind one bit who he was.

Even when they went to the Atlantica Museum she stayed by his side and explored it with him. He was a bit slow considering his physique was on the chubby side so he wasn't fast. It still didn't matter, for some odd reason she stayed with him. In the picture commemorating the trip he held her hand since he was a bit self conscious about his picture being taken.

Y/n couldn't help but find it adorable. Everything about Azul wasn't at all strange to her it only made her more curious to get to know him. He would always apologize for any small thing he did wrong. She would always say, "It's fine." as if he did nothing. Her smile always seemed to brighten Azul's darkest days.

She'd visit him in his family restaurant in which his mother and father always welcomed his first friend. They were overjoyed. She saw him gorging himself on the plate of food in front of him compared to her smaller portion. She couldn't help but to stare, it made her understand why he was on the chubby side. Then he looked at her sauce around his mouth and she couldn't help but smile at him with laughter filling the area. He was embarrassed blushing a shade of red and he felt a bit ashamed.

"Azulie, you're absolutely adorable!" She said through her laughter.

It was one of his most fondest memories he ever had with her, but all good things had to come to an end.

Eventually she had to depart from the northern seas to the far southern ones. She had to leave Azul behind. She had given him a hug it was full of so much warmth of which he had never felt before and it made his heart race twice as fast. Both parents of the children found it endearing their children had found a friend.

. . .

And that was that. Time passed and he eventually became Azul Ashengrotto the dorm leader of Octanivelle who could grant any wish just as the sea witch. He could never ever forget the one person he was so fond of though. It never left him every time he wrote down a contract he could remember a time where he truly did care for someone.

The new year at Night Raven was his second year while a new group of first years came entering the school. He had ordered Jade to get information on each of them and when he went through the long list of students that had been sorted into Octanivelle while in his office. He immediately crossed one oh so familiar.

Y/n L/n.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He put the sheet of paper down and opened one of his drawers in the desk that showed him and her back then. He never altered this photo as he did countless others. She accepted him for who he was and that was well enough a reason for him to admire her.

He automatically called upon Jade as Floyd would have probably scared the poor girl. He told him to fetch her immediately.

When he finally did see her for the first time in years he was astounded at how you changed so little but so much at the same time. You had grown taller and your eyes still sparkled just as they always did. You had the same two streaks on either side of your hair which had grown a few inches he might add.

Jade had left to do other tasks he was assigned but Azul couldn't care less seeing as he had his childhood friend and sweetheart in front of him.

"Azulie, that really is you huh?" Your voice had matured but was more timid just like the very first time they met. Of course it was so long ago that they're more like strangers now. That nickname though, it's been a long time since he's heard it.

"Yes, I've changed quite a bit." He was a little nervous though he'd never admit it his voice slightly betrayed him and his face had a little red tint. He tried pushing up his glasses to shield it from her eyes but it was a futile attempt. He heard her chuckle that made his heart race like never before.

"You haven't changed fully as your still the most adorable by far." She said.

That made his face blossom as red as a rose in the rose maze of Heartsbyul. Heat was exerting itself from his still body that he sat in the chair from.

From that moment on he would keep a watchful eye on her. He would always try his best when she was around and get any info on anything going on pertaining to her.

She had met Floyd and Jade before who Azul wasn't too fond of at first, but she reccomended he became friends with them back then since it wasn't everyday someone didn't come up to tease him and noticed his accomplishments. Of course it was only because of Azul that they met again at Night Raven. The first time she met Jade was when he first brought her to see Azul in his office. He looked familiar to her and she mentioned it to him, and they both shared their fondest memories on the way. She met Floyd a little later on in the Mostro Lounge as he had taken her order and he noticed she had come in a lot just to see Azul. Jade had to explain the situation that she wasn't required to pay for any food she ate there because of an order Azul had given out.

Azul would spend some time out of the day to just hang out with you if he wasn't always busy with the lounge. It was always a joy to be with you, it reminded him of when you were both younger. He thought back to those days every night and day that you had still never left his mind. The thought of you leaving again made him lose his sense of reason and fall deeper in his sweet obsession.

He had started to act different you noticed. He had become a bit more invasive of your personal space in which you remember that only happened when he was nervous at least you thought he grew out of it.

Jade and Floyd began to direct you to the Lounge like your life was there and no where else. It'd only be a matter of time before Azul was informed by Jade of his sweetheart's newest infatuation.

Vil happened to catch your attention. It led Azul to be green with envy. He knew the dorm leader of Pomeifore had complimented her one day and it was enough to send her falling head over heels. He had so many followers it made no sense why he had to take something else Azul had wanted for the longest time. With Vil's beauty he only began to question his own.

He had to come up with a solution just as he had done for those bullies. He just couldn't lose Y/n again. Not if he had any say in it.

After hours of pondering in his office sinking his nails into his desk the answer happened to be right behind him. The vault that was situated behind his desk held the many contracts he had collected.

Maybe if he could impress her she wouldn't see him as that stupid, clumsy octopus he once was. All these different magic spells that he obtained from those fools from the exams on land in Night Raven and those idiots who swam under the sea.

That's when his plan fell apart. Y/n avoided him all of a sudden. Mainly having spent time with those troublesome first years he sent to the museum to collect one of the last remnants of his past.

He didn't have time to keep thinking about Y/n at the moment which irritated him quite a bit. One thing led to another and now he was out here trying to negotiate with the arrogant and prideful dorm head of Savanclaw. As soon as he destroyed them all hope was lost.

He was taunting him, but his next few words really took him over the top in terms of a sadistic being.

"You know, one of your little sea friends really wanted to believe you were nice. We just had to show her the real Azul Ashengrotto." Leona had smirked turning his head to the side, beyond the corner of the tunnel his darling angelfish had appeared. Disbelief in her eyes, she couldn't even meet his eyes.

That's when everyone else had arrived, but the deed was already done. He had lost everything and his angelfish had seen him as a weak being, the same stupid clumsy octopus he hated being.

They took her from his side. He had her in his grasp and they stole her. He had lost it.

His newborn and unimaginable power were apparent now. He just had to get it all back. Not even Floyd or Jade wanted to help him either.

He reminded himself of you holding your pen ready to fire another offensive attack. His anger swelled inside him where he could tap into more power.

"GIVE HER BACK TO ME! GIVE ME BACK WHAT YOU TOOK! "

A large swarm of harsh black wind had overwhelmed the group. She still managed to stand but when the dust cleared she saw all of them had collapsed unconscious. Even the prefect who was thrown back the farthest had their head hit the tunnel, it didn't look like she was breathing from here though.

She took a look back at Azul and suddenly she felt her feet carrying her away from the scene, having Azul call out to her from behind.

* * *

It's been a while since she had to swim that fast. Her tail fin was starting to hurt from the constant movement. She wanted to take a break, a never ending nightmare she pleaded in her head to be over.

That was until she heard him calling for her.

"Oh Angelfish! You really have nothing to fear! Come out I promise I won't hurt you!" He said in a sing songy voice.

She was hiding behind a large boulder on the sea floor near a small coral reef.

"Am I not enough anymore?! I'LL DO ANYTHING TO PROVE IT! I'M NOT THE SAME AS BEFORE, YOU DON'T HAVE TO LOOK AFTER ME! " The tone of voice he had scared her even more so now that she was alone.

"I'm not, ... I'm not that stupid clumsy little octopus anymore." He sounded as if he were about to cry, it pulled at her heartstrings a bit and she thought she could convince him to calm down in this state.

"Azulie I never-"

"There you are! " He said with glee and delight in his tone, that never would have made you think he was sad in the first place.

He successfully guilt tripped her into coming out of hiding. Using his tentacles he pulled her by the tail toward him careful to avoid giving her any injuries. He grasped her in his arms feeling himself relax a bit, at the fact he had her in his grasp once again. She felt warm just as she did all those years ago for him.

He clasped her hands together with his. A deranged smile on his face as he stared into the soul of his adorable little angelfish who shivered under such an intense gaze radiating his madness.

"We'll be together again! Just like old times! Except this time I'm all powerful and no one will be able to steal what's mine!"

Masterlist

[abundanceofnots]

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

[bts-hyperfixation]

The Princess and The Duke – Part 1

Duke!Namjoon x Princess!reader

I know I said this wasn’t going to be out until Friday, but after the Scammys, I thought I’d put it out today! This has not yet been edited.

Warnings - future smut, allusions to smut.

The first time you met you were six months old. Barely aware you existed, let alone there was a whole world existing around you. Namjoon was two at the time. A chubby little toddler clinging desperately to his mother as he tried to hide away from all the other strange people in the room. Most of the kingdom had turned out for your christening, so obviously the future Duke’s family had also made an appearance. They stood with the rest of the court at the front of the church, most of the adults attempting to corral children of their own instead of watching the Princess’ baptism.

It was only when a shrill cry echoed through the church hall that Namjoon looked up from his mother’s shoulder trying to locate the noise. Turned out you didn’t appreciate being dipped into freezing cold holy water. From then on, he’d watched intently, each movement made by the priest and your family, craning his neck to watch you wiggle in the queen’s arms. You were just so small, and so pink. He liked pink, and you were wrapped in piles of pink lace. He knew these were traditional colours for your kingdom, his mom liked to tell him stories about the pink flowers that grew throughout his homeland. Beautiful pink daisies. They were his favourite bedtime stories.

Stories of a brave king leading his army into battle. Each week he would send home a bouquet of the only flower that grew on the battlefield. Each week the queen would know he was okay, until one week they didn’t arrive. For the next few days, the queen was inconsolable, after that she was catatonic. She sat draped in black watching the last of the pink daisies wither. As the last petal fell from the shrivelled bud, a shout was heard throughout the kingdom. The king had returned, enemies slain, and with him he brought as many flowers as the cavalry could carry. The seeds were planted throughout the country, and those were the same flowers that remained to this day. The flowers that were lining the pews of the church, and the ballroom at the palace.

After the christening, members of the court were invited for a meal and to meet the infant princess, to meet you. The banquet was held in the ballroom, a long table adorned with wreaths and favours for each of the guests. You were placed in a cradle close to the king. A place where all could visit to pay their respects and your father could protect you. Once his family had finished their meal, they visited your crib, offering a gift and paying their respects to the royals. Namjoon tugged at his mother’s dress until she lifted him to get a better look. As he peered into the cot, he was shocked to find you staring straight up at him. Other babies he met always seemed to be asleep, but not you.

He wriggled in the duchess’ arms until he could reach you. The room fell silent as he extended his chubby hand to poke at your own curled fist. No one outside of your family, the priest, and the doctors had dared to touch you yet. They waited with bated breath for a response from the king. Little Namjoon paid no attention to the eyes on him, too focused on you. Your small fingers wrapped their way around his. The king had cooed at the event, closely followed by everyone else in the room.

…

The next time you met Namjoon properly you were four, he was almost six. You’d been allowed outside to play with the other children of the court. The problem was, many of them were considerably older than you. None of the ‘big’ girls wanted to play silly little girl games. So you sat alone and watched them as they made daisy chains together. You tried to copy them from afar, but your pudgy little fingers wouldn’t cooperate, ripping through the stems instead of creating the holes needed to thread more flowers.

Namjoon had been following around the gardener when he saw you. Decapitated daisies lay by the dozen around your feet. He couldn’t bear to see the carnage continue, so he took pity on you. He picked a flower with a thick enough stem and passed it too you. To say you were thrilled was an understatement. You’d taken the flower excitedly and threaded another through before giving it back to him to make another hole. The two of you had then spent the next half hour together, him piercing stems and you threading them into long chains. He laughed as you concentrated. Your tongue stuck out of the side of your mouth as you focused on the task at hand.

When you decided the chain was long enough, he made one last hole so you could form a circle. With the ring complete you stepped on your tippy toes to place it over his head, nodding in approval as the string draped from his neck to his knees. He looked down, assessing his new accessory and beamed a smile back at you. The first time you ever saw his dimples. Immediately you were compelled to poke them. He didn’t stop you as you reached for his cheek, instead laughing so they deepened.

You weren’t like any princess he had seen in his books. Those princesses were graceful and dainty. You were more like a bull in a china shop. Honestly, he was relived. All the other boys were in high school, they had no time for him. And the girls all wanted him to play ‘prince charming’. It was fun playing with you. You’d run around the gardens with him, dig in the mud, and exchange the stories your parents read at bedtimes.

…

Age six brought the loss of your first tooth. The tooth had been placed in a tissue under your pillow and the next morning it had become money! You had been so excited to tell Namjoon all about it, only for him to burst your bubble.

“The tooth fairy isn’t real Y/N” he’d stated matter-of-factly, his nose turned up at the notion.

“Is too!” you’d cried back petulantly. You’d seen her with your own two eyes. Well you’d been half asleep, and it was dark… but you were certain it had been her.

“Is not!” the eight-year-old boy retorted. “I’ll prove it! Next time you lose a tooth don’t tell nobody. She won’t come I promise.” He’d sounded so smug. You wanted to hit him. instead you set out to prove him wrong. You kept wiggling your teeth hoping one would come loose. It’s around a month later you get your chance. The tooth came out in the apple you were eating for dessert. Carefully you hid the bone from your nanny so she couldn’t tell your parents. After you were tucked in that night, you slid the bone under your pillow and waited for the fairy to visit you. But she never came.

The next day when you saw Namjoon, you were devastated, but still not ready to concede the fairy’s existence.  

“Maybe I upset her?” you sniffle at him “You’re not supposed to wait for her, I broke the rules! That’s why she didn’t come! What if she never visits me again?” tears fell freely down your face. Namjoon had never felt so guilty, not even when he lied about breaking his mom’s favourite vase. He had watched you cry for a moment, unsure of where to go from here. He had made the heir to the throne cry… could he get locked away for this?

“It’s my fault Y/N! I was just jealous” he quickly tried to formulate a believable story in his head as you wiped away your tears.

“Jealous?” your voice was small, a little hope filtering through the sadness.

“Yeah… jealous. See I… uh… I’ve nearly got all my big teeth now, so she doesn’t come to see me as often. I bet if you put the tooth under your pillow tonight and go to sleep, she will come!” your face had lit up at the news. Immediately after he’d said goodbye to you, he went and told the gardener about your tooth. When you woke up the next day, a shiny coin was in the tooth’s place. You’d held the discovery over Namjoon for the few months, but he didn’t care. He was just happy you were happy and that he didn’t get into trouble.

…

At age eight you were definitely not shaping up to be the perfect princess. In fact you were quite the rambunctious little tot. Your mother became more and more exasperated every time you turned up with a new grass stain on one of your best gowns. She begged you to spend more time having tea parties with the girls instead. It was never your fault though. The tea parties were dull and Namjoon would challenge you to a race through the maze, or to see who could climb highest in the trees. You couldn’t just let him win.

If you weren’t running around or rolling down hills, you were lying together staring up at the clouds from the middle of the topless bandstand in the middle of the maze. The beautiful white stone structure had quickly become ‘your’ spot. None of the other palace kids showed any interest in exploring the maze, and the adults always seemed to get lost trying to find you. Hours were wasted with the two of you just staring up at the sky, sometimes talking about your day, sometimes in complete silence. It was just nice to be with him.

On calmer days he would read aloud from a book while you made daisy chains. You could do it by yourself now. Much more in control of your own limbs than you used to be. The summer before Namjoon was due to go to high school you made a chain so long you could coil it around the entire base of the bandstand.

…

After he started high school, you saw a lot less of Namjoon. He wasn’t able to come around as often between his homework and extracurriculars. Instead you begged your father to let you attend his football games. Each Saturday you went in disguise with your nanny to watch Namjoon play, regardless of the weather. You weren’t even sure you enjoyed the sport, but it was worth it for the smile he flashed every time he found you amongst the onlookers.

Each week you wore a different disguise wanting to make it difficult for him, but each time he found you without fail.

You melted every time, knowing that smile was just for you. Originally you told yourself it was just a swell of pride, watching your best friend play. Eventually you had to admit to yourself that maybe it was more than that, but you swallowed the crush. After all he was in high school, he wouldn’t want a silly little girl like you anyway.

…

When you turned fourteen it was time to for you to be presented to the kingdom. A ball was thrown in your honour, the first of many you would attend in your lifetime. The thought of being alone at any big event made you feel queasy. The fact that this one was going to be focused entirely on you made you ill for an entire week before. Namjoon had spent the week trying to reassure you that everything was going to be fine. Luckily, your birthday had been during a break from school so he could spend the time with you. He grew more and more concerned as he watched your health deteriorating to a point where you could barely keep water down. Eventually he came to a decision and asked for an audience with the king himself.

He’d dressed in his best suit making sure not a single hair was out of place. He marched straight up to the double doors to your father’s study and took a deep breath, more than prepared to argue his point. Your father had welcomed Namjoon into his office with open arms. He’d always been fond of the boy, especially knowing the weak spot you held for him. Regardless of the warm reception and his original confidence in his idea, Namjoon felt the nerves begin to overtake him. He wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his suit jacket, breath coming out shakily.

“Can I escort Y/N to her first ball.” The king had been taken aback by Joon’s sudden outburst, his face showing obvious surprise at the young man’s bold request. Namjoon mistook the expression for a dismissal and so, in a much less eloquent way than he had practiced in is shower, he fought his case.

“Y/N has been ill all week; she doesn’t think she can do this alone…. And I just thought… maybe she would be okay if I were with her. I know I’m only a duke, but I just want her to be okay and I really think this would be good and it’ll only be for this one ball and…” Namjoon’s rambling came to an end when your father raised his hand. Namjoon clenched his fists as he waited for an answer.

Your father had taken his time to consider Namjoon’s proposal, enjoying the way the boy had squirmed under his gaze. To this day, Namjoon refers to it as the second most terrifying day of his life. Eventually a smile had broken over the kings face, no longer able to contain his laugh. He clapped Namjoon on the shoulder and sent him off with his blessing.

On his way to meet you in the gardens afterwards, he had gathered the prettiest daisies he could find. He found you lying on the floor of the bandstand, looking a little too pale as you stared up at the clouds floating past. He cleared his throat on arrival, making you look at him with the offer of a weak smile, not really taking him in.

When he didn’t take his place beside you, you’d sat up to look at him properly. That’s when you saw the pinstripe suit and quaffed hair. It looked so unlike him you couldn’t help but giggle. Normally Joon was a t-shirt and basketball shorts kind of guy. He had rolled his eyes and extended his hand to help you up. You took it, every question in your mind had gotten stuck in your throat when his eyes had met yours. You never did get over that silly little crush. He didn’t release your hand like you expected him too. Instead he placed the bouquet into your free hand and asked you the question you’d been dreaming he would.

“Just to protect you of course… I don’t like when you aren’t well” He’d broken the moment by ruffling your hair, a sure sign he was doing this as a favour.

He took you to every ball you attended after that one.

…

The summer you turned seventeen was the summer before Namjoon left for university. You snuck out passed your guards in the night to see him. There was a very convenient secret passageway that led from your room to the gardens. You would meet him at the bandstand and talk until the sun came over the horizon. The lack of sleep had been worth it to spend those last fleeting days with him. You talked about anything and nothing, just like you would in the daytime, but this felt far more intimate.

The first time you convinced him to meet you after curfew his eyes flitted everywhere. Always nervous someone would find the two of you there and assume the worst. You on the other hand were just desperate to soak up as much of your friends company as you could before he left.

Over time he’d become more comfortable with the routine. In fact he had been certain that your sneaking around hadn’t even been that sneaky, your parents were just allowing you to rebel like this. Eventually he got used to walking you back to the entrance of the secret passageway, spending an extra few moments together.

His final night in town had been an emotional one. You’d sat side by side, your head on his shoulder staring up at the stars in complete silence for a long time. A tear fell down your cheek every time you thought about him leaving you. He’d wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close just as a shooting star arched across the sky. You immediately had a wish in mind. Eyes scrunched tight and fists clenched, you wished as hard as you could that he would stay, or at least that he’d come back fast. But unfortunately, he had to go, and morning came around far too fast.

You’d dragged your feet as he walked you back to the passageway. Shoulders bumping together, fingers brushing, glances stolen when you were sure the other wasn’t looking. The wall that concealed your entrance had come into view far too quickly. You’d sighed as you reluctantly pressed in the stones that would open the doorway, far from ready to say goodbye to the boy you’d grown up with. You hugged him goodbye, tears streaming freely down your face. You’d released him and turned to walk back into the castle, but as you’d taken that first step, he grabbed you sharply by the wrist and pulled you back to him.

His lips were so soft as they met yours. The surprise had knocked all the air out of your lungs forcing you to pull back sooner than you would’ve liked. He wiped the tears from your face and pulled you back to him, kissing you once more. And then he was gone.

…

The following autumn had dragged by. With no Namjoon, you had been forced to invest in the idle gossip of other members of the court, actually pay attention in your elocution lessons, and, perhaps worst of all, prepare for your first ball without your trusty escort. Every time you thought of Namjoon your lips tingled at the memory of your first kiss. You were devastated when his parents had told you he wouldn’t be able to make it home for the Christmas ball.

When the time came, you’d prepared for the ball like you had every other. A team came to pinch, primp, and style you to within an inch of yourself. This year they’d decided on a snow theme. Your pale blue ballgown had been the most beautiful one you’d worn at that point. It glittered like freshly fallen snow in the winter sun. The skirt poofed out around your waist and fell just above your feet so people could still see the matching shoes with little snowflakes. It was the best you thought you’d ever looked, and it broke your heart to know Namjoon wasn’t going to see you like that.

When the time came, you’d taken a breath and readied yourself for a night of refusing advances of handsy nobles, and questions you weren’t prepared to answer about the whereabouts of your usual date. You took a hold of the banister and began your entrance into the grand ballroom, desperately trying to keep your eyes forward and not trip at the same time. Whilst concentrating on not falling flat on your face, you had failed to notice one crucial detail about the room before you, until he took your hand and brought it to his lips. Namjoon had made it home after all.

You spent the entire event together. For every slow dance you were in the middle of the floor swaying together as he whispered sweet things in your ear. Time not on the dance floor had been spent laughing and catching up. The night came to an end with you escaping to your spot.

He’d picked a daisy and threaded it into your hair, trailing his fingers down the side of your face when he was finished. You’d boldly stepped even closer to him, lips inches away from his, daring him to repeat the night he left, and he’d gladly taken the opportunity.  He’d pulled you impossibly closer, lifting you on to your tiptoes and kissed you like a man starved. You’d wrapped your arms around his waist. Desperately trying to make up for lost time. Eventually you came to rest, foreheads resting against one another, breathing hard.

“Y/N I love you.” It was the first time he admitted it out loud, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. In fact he said it at least twenty more times that night.

“I love you too Joon.” You kissed him one more time before taking his hand and breaking into a sprint. You came to a stop at the passageway to your chambers. “Come in with me?” You’d asked, flashing him doe eyes he had never been able to resist.

“Are you sure?” He brushed a stray hair behind your ear and met your eyes, you’d never seen him look so serious.

“Well I can’t get out of this dress alone.” You’d tried to joke. When his expression didn’t change you gulped down any reservations and nodded. “I’m completely sure.” He’d swept you into his arms and carried you through your room laying you down on your bed. His coat and tie had been immediately discarded across the room. You’d sat up to get a better look as he undid the buttons on his white dress shirt, biting your lip at the thought of running your hands across his bare skin. He stopped undressing himself to look back at you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He embraced you, fingers finding the zipper at the back of your gown. You allowed the sleeves to fall down your arms, exposing your chest to him. Immediately his lips had gone to trail along your collarbones. He mumbled ‘I love you’ as he went. Each kiss punctuated by the words you’d longed to hear from him. You pushed his shirt down his shoulders, letting your hands linger on his biceps, rubbing little circles on the perfect skin.

“Joon?” he answers you with a hmm. “Is this real?” he pulled away from you to meet your eyes.

“I hope so.” He responded before kissing you deeply again. When you’d gotten the chance you’d stood up and allowed the dress to puddle around your feet.  He reached out to pull you in again by your newly expose waist, positioning you underneath him. He’d kissed down your stomach until he reached the top of your underwear.

“Maybe we should stop here?” he’d said, pulling away from you, “I want our first time to be something amazing.” You’d nodded, a little reluctant, but you’d waited this long for him, you could wait a little longer. Instead you’d settled into your bed together, cuddled close in just your underwear, praying that you didn’t wake up from this dream.

…

Everything was perfect, you stayed together throughout both his and your university experience. The whole kingdom knew of their childhood sweethearts. The duke and the princess destined to be together. The night of your graduation, a large ball had been put together in your honour and while no one dared say it aloud, everyone was certain there were hidden intentions behind the congratulatory event. The feeling was in the air, the whole of the kingdom whispered rumours of how the young duke was going to propose. They wondered how it would be announced, if he was going to ask you in the middle of all the guest, or if he’d elect to be more private about it.

But then the day of the ball arrived and Namjoon wasn’t waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs like he usually would. You assumed he would be waiting somewhere to surprise you, but the whispers started as soon as you’d turned up to the ballroom unescorted. No one had seen him. The entire night people had congratulated you on graduating, but your heart wasn’t even your replies. Instead you’d spent the night searching every face in the room for a sign of your missing lover.

As the night wore on it became clear that he had no intentions of attending. You’d put every ounce of your princess training to good use that night as you tried not to cry, humiliated in front of everyone you had ever known.

Awaiting you in your bedroom at the end of the night was a bouquet of pink daisies and a simple note that said ‘I’m so sorry’

You wouldn’t see Namjoon again for two years…

Part 2

Masterlist

Losing Virginity drabble

Taglist: @uraveragefangirlsposts

[barkkletshunt]

Those Worth Fighting For Part seven

Part one          Part two

Part three        Part four

Part five           Part six

Part Seven (You’re here)       Part eight 

Taglist:

@ladybug-182 @fruit-snacc-ace @miraculous-simmer7 @lavenderjunes 

@use-flamethrower @fan-written @all-mights-asscheeks @birdie-posts

Sorry if the tags aren’t working, I tried and I’m not sure where I went wrong with it? 

If I have time the next part will come out with some art! Don’t expect the art to be any good though lol

“So then, I go to the window and there is Adrien on Kagami’s front lawn with a big sign that says prom on it, and by the way neither of us knew he was going to be in France at all. It was a total surprise. So I’m so shocked my mind completely blanks out and I shout down to him that yes, I’ll go to prom with him. He yells back ‘tall Kagami’ and I turn around and just ‘your boyfriend just asked to go to prom with me.’ Without skipping a beat she leans out of the window and tells him he’s too late, she already asked me.” Marinette laughed, wiping a stray tear from her eye that began to form from how hard she was trying to not burst into a fit of giggles until the story ended. “In the end the three of us went to prom together.”

The four around the table shook their heads. “Mari, dude, if you can’t get through that story without laughing how are you supposed to do your toast?”

“I’ll just practice it a lot until it’s no longer funny to me, simple. I’m not even going to worry about it anymore.” The blue haired girl shrugged. When she was younger she would have worried about that, but she was long since past that. At least, she hoped she was. She had done enough interviews with Alya in her teen years, and then enough speeches as Ladybug to fill her with a confidence she lacked as a teen. She was nervous, but instead of the all consuming nervousness that would make her fumble and trip over her words it was now an excited nervousness. She was excited about it. 

“I think you’ll do fine,” Felix winked at her, his face never changing from the impartial look he had on since he came into the restaurant.

They all had made their way back to the same place after the amok, even if Felix was late once again. The blond had made his excuses of needing to take care of some errands that he had forgotten, but it hadn’t mattered much to any of them. Marinette had saved a seat next to her for him and he was more than happy to take it.

“Why not talk about the moment you realized those two were perfect for each other?” Nathaniel asked, playing with the straw in his drink. “I know you have a million stories about that.”

“Something like Adrien saving Kagami from a bully, or a dance of just the two of them where they lock eyes and suddenly the whole room disappears?” Marc hummed, their author brain going into overdrive at the thought of romance. “Maybe you saw him protect her against an akuma or amok?”

Marinette thought for a moment. What was it that made her realize that they belonged together? After all those years fawning over Adrien, it was Kagami’s love for him that made her step down, but what was the exact moment? 

“It was at Chloe’s fifteenth birthday party.” Marinette started, recalling the time before Hawkmoth had lost and her world began to fall apart and fix itself simultaneously. “Adrien’s dad thought it would be a good idea for Kagami to go with him and keep an eye on his son, and they started the evening miserable because the paparazzi outside the hotel told them that they always looked so perfect that it made sense that they would be perfect together. I only got to spend a few minutes with them before being pulled away by Chloe, but when I went to find them and bring them some hot chocolate they were on the roof ruffling each other's hair and talking about anime, and goofing around like I hadn’t seen either of them do before.” 

“They saw that the other understood their background and chose to help break out of that image with each other and just be kids.” Felix’s words surprised her, but he understood exactly what had happened. 

“They were so embarrassed when they saw me that I challenged them both to hot chocolate drinking contests to ease the awkwardness. They didn’t even realize I didn’t have one for myself before chugging theirs and burning their mouths at the same time.” Her two messy friends meant the world to her, and she knew no one would understand them like they understood each other. Both of them had strict parents that would only let them escape and be kids when they were with the other, and they took those opportunities and made every moment count. They were what each other needed, and then when they got their freedoms they were still the ones they chose. “I think that’s also when they stopped acting perfect in front of me. Adrien really started to bug me to watch anime so he could talk about it with someone other than his girlfriend, and Kagami soon demanded to be my dress up doll because she never got to do that growing up. They became my best friends and honestly, I think I’m better for it too.”

“How romantic.” Marc swooned, leaning against Nathaniel who caught his significant other with a laugh. “Childhood friends, to rivals, to lovers. 50K slowburn.”

“Once there was an akuma trying to hurt Adrien and Kagami picked up the nearest weapon she could find and just went at ‘em and I have never seen Adrien’s face light up like that. The boy just wants to be loved and protected.” Nino joined in. “Alya and I were shocked, we both had our money on Adrien ending up with someone else, but we’re both happy about it. Speaking of which, I gotta update her on what’s going on here. She’ll flip.”

Felix shifted in his seat, catching Marinette’s eye as Nathaniel and Marc continued talking about Kagami and Adrien’s relationship. He wasn’t there for all those moments, he wasn’t a long term friend of everyone so he didn’t know Alya or Chloe and she wouldn’t doubt it if he had felt out of place in the conversation. 

“Pst,” she scooted herself over, getting closer to him and leaning over to whisper at him. “You look nice today.”

Felix blinked in surprise. Within seconds his face was growing warm and he used his hand to cover the lower half of his face as inconspicuously as possible. “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to say that, Miss. Dupain-Cheng?”

“I’m afraid I beat you to it, Mr. Graham De Vanily.” She whispered back. “But it’s okay, you might get me next time.”

How long had it been since she was able to flirt with someone without losing herself in the what-if’s and teenaged anxiety that had plagued her? How had one battle fighting side by side with Ryuko, Alley Cat, and the others given her so much confidence that she hadn’t had even during the fight itself? Was it that damned cat’s words? He had unknowingly complimented her to her face and she was still beaming with pride over being called brilliant. Being complimented on her looks was nice, but the way he had complimented her on her mind was something else. She supposed that was what did it, after all. Being told that she was great because of who she was and not because of how she looked filled her with a pride she didn’t even want to describe lest it dampened the feeling inside her chest. 

“Well then, until next time, you look wonderful. You’re outfit choice is on point, as always.” His comment hit straight to her heart. There it was again. A comment on something she chose being good. “And although you are trying to start a fire with my face, I am enjoying this time with you away from colour pallets and order forms. I like seeing this other side of you, Marinette.”

“I’d like to say the same thing, but it has come to my attention that you seem to only wear suits, Felix. This is the same side of you I always see.” She couldn’t help her grin. There was a strange formal banter between them that she found exhilarating. In it’s own way it made her feel like part of the aristocratic world that he and Adrian and Kagami belonged to, without having to deal with the fakeness that the latter two often complained about. “Dare I say, I don’t believe you own anything that isn’t a suit.”

“I’d hate to inform you of this, but you’re incorrect on that front.” Felix moved the hand that was covering his face to let himself rest his chin upon it. “I do, and I’d prefer it if you don’t go to the press with this, own a few sets of pajamas.”

“And are they silk and made to look like a suit?” She asked, now leaning against him to softly poke at his arm. “I bet you had them custom made so that you would never appear unprofessional.” 

“Well, well, aren’t you curious to see my pajamas? Shame you won’t get to see them until our fourth date.” Felix leaned his head against hers, and her heart began to race. 

“So, are you two actually a thing?” Nino’s voice broke them out of their moment. Marinette and Felix realized how it must have looked to the others and immediately sat straight in their seats. 

Nathaniel elbowed Nino in the ribs. “Dude!”

“What? I’m just trying to clear things up for my daily Alya report.” Nino tried to defend himself from the onslaught of hands trying to hit him from Marc and Nathaniel. “It gets complicated sometimes and you know my girl won’t let anything rest until she has all the info!”

“If Miss. Dupain-Cheng would like to, as you put it, actually be a thing, then I would be honoured to.” He said it so simply that Marinette wasn’t sure why she had hesitated before. He did like her. 

“Only if you wear your pajamas to our next late night planning session.” Marinette wasn’t willing to let the pajamas slide. “I have to see you out of a suit before we get all lovey dovey. It’s a rule.”

“Did you make that rule just for me?”

“Of course.”

“Well, don’t I feel special.” Felix thought to himself, making a bit of a show of it as he tossed his head side to hide. His braid that previously rested on his shoulder now swinging back and forth behind him, looking like a cat's tail as it got ready to play. “I think I have room to negotiate here, so if I may I am going to put the added condition that you must also wear your pajamas.”

“I don’t think this is supposed to be a business transaction, dude,” Nino tried, but Marinette held her hand up. She could negotiate. 

“I’ll accept those terms on the condition that you buy coffee, and we get to watch a movie together with some popcorn.” Marinette raised her brow, daring Felix to try to get a better deal out of her. 

“If I am purchasing coffee, popcorn, and a movie, then I will push for some baked goods from your parents bakery.” Felix held out his hand. “Well?”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Graham De Vanily, but I accept your terms.” Marinette took his hand and shook it. That was the most fun she had ever had while figuring out plans for a date, and she knew she’d have more fun watching the movie with Felix than she just did. “A movie date in our pajamas with snacks it is.”

“I’ll pick you up friday night at eight?” 

“I can’t wait to see your suit pajamas.”

“I bet you have frills on yours.”

“And you don’t?”

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 2. The Contest.

Summary: Life at SHIELD isn’t always missions and seriousness, as a good natured shooting contest between Katie and Clint shows. The questions is, as the two dead-shots face off, who will be the winner? Steve has utter faith in his best friend, so much so he’s willing to bet money on her. But is this just another ten bucks he’s gonna lose?

Either way, both are left contemplating their feelings towards one another and fast come to the realisation that they run deeper than they want to admit

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language!!

A/N: A huge thank you to @angrybirdcr​ for her lovely little edit below of Katie and Clint. She’s kingly agreed to pull a few edits together for me in honour of my relaunch so keep your eyes peeled…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

 Katie had no idea why she’d agreed to any of this. Actually, that was a lie, she knew exactly why she’d agreed to this, it was all down to Evans who had decided that STRIKE were long overdue a competition of sorts and had organised a shooting-slash-obstacle course tournament. Eight members had entered, going into random draws and competing against one another over the past week. Out of those eight, two now remained. Her and Clint.

A shooting contest between two Avengers was always going to draw big attention, so it was hardly surprising, therefore, that the SHIELD agents were running a book. Clint was odds on favourite to win, but Steve had so far refused to take part, that is until ten minutes or so before the contest was supposed to start. He was stood outside the shooting range, eyes focussed on Katie and Clint as they both stood checking their equipment, a crowd steadily gathering behind him.

“I know she’s good, but she really doesn’t stand a chance.” Natasha drawled as she stood at his side. Her matter-of-fact tone caused something in his chest to stir, the lack of faith everyone bar Evans and Lawson from the lab seemed to be displaying in Katie over Clint riled him and he turned to Natasha, a smirk flickering over his face as he repeated the words Katie had said to him the first night they’d met.

“Ten bucks says you’re wrong.” He stuck his hand out.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, before shaking his hand “Alright Rogers, you’re on.”

His hands returned to his belt buckle and both Katie and Clint signalled they were ready.

Evans went into the room, it was soundproof unless you pushed the button to listen in, which Rumlow did, of course.

“Okay you both no the rules but I’m gonna repeat ‘em just in case. No pushing or shoving of your opponent because that’s just a shitty thing to do.” Evans said, his Texan drawl loud as his hand scratched at his ginger beard. “Perfect kill shots are an extra half-point. Twenty minute time limit is in force. If you’re tied on score then we’ll go to the number of kill shots made.” Evans looked at them and they both nodded, Katie licking her lips. “Now. To your starting lines. You may go when the barriers open.” Evans nodded and held his right hand up, three fingers extended “May the odds be ever in your favour…”

Steve had no idea what that was a reference too, but he heard the rest of the people around him snigger. Katie threw her head back in a laugh as Clint mimicked Evan’s hand gesture as the other Sniper left the room.

The two opponents both looked out over the room from their starting positions at the obstacles which were constructed out of crates and various other objects. Katie cracked her neck side to side as Clint raised his pistol again, looking down the barrel before he turned his head to meet Katie’s gaze. She put her gun back into its thigh holster and turned to her old SO.

“May the best woman win.” she smirked, as she felt the blood pounding in her ears. Then, with a loud klaxon, the barriers opened in front of them and they both shot forward.

It might have been a friendly competition, but Katie wasn’t someone who liked losing so she was playing to win, and that was obvious from the determination written all over her face. Steve felt a surge of pride as he watched her leaping from obstacle to obstacle, landing shot after shot. After she hit her fourth target head easily and ahead of Clint, Steve heard Natasha hiss through her teeth.

“Ok, so maybe she has a little chance…”

He didn’t reply, simply watched, silently willing her on.

As the minutes ticked on, the two continued, both making leaps, dropping into rolls, and ducking behind corners. Katie took another shot, and paused for a split second, if she was counting correctly there were two more to go and five minutes left on the clock. She looked up for her next target and saw Clint was blocking her way, knelt down, aiming at his own. Katie knew the sensible thing to do would be to wait, but then she was a Stark, being sensible wasn’t one of her main attributes. With a smirk she re-holstered her gun and sprinted as fast as she could, launching herself forward into a perfect front flip, catapulting right over the top of Clint before she immediately slid onto a knee and brought the handgun back up, aiming at the target.

Outside the room there was a lot of cheering and cat calls at her display of acrobatics.

Katie moved to her final target, back against a large crate, aimed but then missed and Steve closed his eyes- that would cost her.

“Shit!” She exclaimed, doubling over to catch her breath as at that point the klaxon sounded again to say they were out of time. She stood up, cocking the safety on her pistol before stowing it away as Clint walked over to her, pulling her into a hug.

“Sharp shooting, Nova!” He grinned, ruffling at her hair. Both of them turned as the doors open and a few agents walked in, back slapping them both as Evans collected the targets and went to tally up the points.

“That was impressive!” Steve smiled as he crossed the room. “Both of you.”

“Yeah, not bad Stark.” Nat added, appraisingly

“Thanks.” Katie nodded, taking a drink of the bottle of water Clint handed to her. She was red faced, sweating but absolutely thrilled, pumped full of adrenaline. She placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath

“And we have the results!” Evans said and Clint threw his arm round Katie as hers slid round his waist. “Stark you missed one giving you nine and three kill shots, taking you to ten point five.” Cheers rang around at the pretty damned good score and Katie grinned as Evans waited until the applause died down before he continued. “However, Barton hit each target, giving him ten plus four kill shots, taking him to twelve over all meaning he is the winner of this year’s STRIKE Shoot Off!”

“Damned it!” Katie groaned, shaking Clint’s hand as various cheers and complaints went up and people started to cash in their bets.

“You’re fired.” Steve heard a familiar voice say. Spinning round, he saw Fury handing over a fifty to an agent whose name escaped him and Steve bit back a smile. The Director had bet on Katie. That one mistake had been costly.

“Cough up Rogers.” Nat held out her hand and he turned to her, sighing and fished in his pocket for a note, handing it to her.

“You bet on me?” Katie looked at him, surprised.

“Course I did, Doll.” he said immediately.

 “Yeah I didn’t, sorry Stark.” Nat took the ten-note off him “Clint’s never lost a challenge yet.”

“He nearly did.” Steve looked at Katie proudly before he glanced back at Natasha. “Was worth the bet to see you get so twitchy Romanoff.”

“Seriously?”  Clint turned to Natasha. “You got twitchy?”

“I’ll admit at one point I thought Stark might have just shaded it.” Nat narrowed her eyes at Steve who simply shrugged, hands dropping to the front of his belt buckle.

“To be fair, there was one point where I thought that too.” Clint smiled, and Katie felt a surge of pride in her chest as he pulled the magazine out of his pistol. “Did good Nova, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Clint.” she smiled at him.

“So, who fancies a drink?” Barton looked around, clapping his hands together.

“I’m game.” Katie nodded as she stripped down her weapon.

Natasha hummed in agreement and then Steve realised they were all looking at him. He hesitated, he really did need to train as he hadn’t had a decent run that morning and he’d be restless all evening otherwise, but after that…why not?

"I gotta work out first but if you tell me where you’re going I’ll join you when I’m done.”

“Take a day off!” Nat drawled, examining her nails. Steve was about to reply but Katie got there first.

“If he doesn’t work out he’s a right crank! And no one likes a Cranky Cap.”

“You know what Stark?” Steve started but she simply stuck her tongue out at him causing him to roll his eyes, fighting to keep the smile off his face.

“Why don’t we try the new sports bar on the high-street, what’s it called again?” Clint suggested.

“Home Run?” Nat asked.

“Yeah that’s it.” he nodded “Couple of doors down from the Burger joint.”

“I’ll find it.” Steve said as Clint nodded, making for the door, Natasha following.  Katie turned to Steve, smiling at him as he surveyed the room.

"You did a good job,” he nodded to the obstacle course “Did it take you back to fighting Aliens?”

“Not quite the same, you know? No returning gunfire… no life-or-death stakes… no Captain America cushioning my fall when we got blown out of a bank window,” she teased. He laughed, as she started to back up towards the door. “I won’t take up your workout time. See you at the bar?”

“You never take up my time, Honey.” He smiled back, honestly, before he felt the flush rise up his neck. What a dumbass thing to say. “See you later.” He nodded.

With that she took her leave, tugging her hair out the ponytail as she left, allowing the gentle waves to cascade down her back.

********

Half an hour or so later, after Katie had showered and changed, the three Avengers were making the twenty minute or so walk to the bar downtown.

“You know I still can’t believe I got to within a point and a half of you.” Katie nudged Clint.

“Me neither actually.” Natasha mused. “I thought it was gonna be a whitewash.”

“Nice to know you have so much faith in me, Widow.” Katie scoffed and Nat snorted.

“Tell you who did have faith, other than Rogers… Fury.” She looked at Katie who grinned from ear to ear.

“Hang on…the boss bet against me?” Clint stopped. With a heavy sigh he shook his head. “Damned, that hurts.”

“Don’t take it personally.” Katie shrugged as they reached the bar. With a loud snort, Clint opened the door to let the girls step in first and then he joined them, looking around at the new surroundings. It was low lit but piled with sports memorabilia held in various glass cases around the room and on the walls. They took the time to look at most of it on their way to the bar where Clint bought the first round. Drinks in hand, they headed to a plush, leather seated booth and settled down.

The three friends fell into an easy chat, and then the inevitable teasing about Rumlow fancying Katie started up and she groaned. Clint and Nat enjoyed ribbing her about him and she had to admit, he wasn’t subtle to be fair. He’d asked her out three times now and she’d politely declined but it didn’t stop her friends from enjoying teasing her about it. Clint and Nat took turns in trying to highlight Rumlow’s more endearing qualities. They managed a sum total of three when Clint leaned back in his chair and shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s all I got. I’m out.” He grinned as Katie laughed, raising her glass to her mouth to drain the last of her beer.

“Yeah, he’s not relationship materiel.” Nat shrugged

“But you could just fuck him, get what you need and kick him out before breakfast.” Clint suggested causing Katie to choke down her mouthful of European lager and pick up the beer mat nearest her.

Steve chose that exact moment to walk into the bar. He watched as the beer mat hit Clint straight between the eyes, and Katie threw her head back in pure, unadulterated laughter. Something in the Captain’s chest stirred as he watched her, that wonderful smile and laugh filling her face.

“Hey.” He greeted them as they all looked up. “You guys need another drink?”

“Cheers Cap, three beers.” Clint motioned round the table and Steve headed off to the bar. Katie watched him go, eye trained on his ass which looked remarkably fine in those dark denims, then, realising what she was doing and who she was with, she let out silent groan as she turned back to see Clint and Nat exchanging a glance, a glance between two people who had just discovered the best secret ever.

“What?” she shrugged, trying to keep her face as straight as possible. “Girl can look, right?”

“Nova, you ain’t just looking, you’re practically drooling.” Clint grinned. “You soft on Cap?”

“No, I just happen to…” She hesitated as she stumbled for the words “…appreciate what my father had a hand in producing, that’s all.”

“Bullshit!” Natasha snorted as Clint roared with laughter. “You’re hot for Rogers.”

“No, I’m…”

“You know, considering you’re a secret agent your poker face is really shit!” Clint pointed at her

“Oh fuck off, the both of you.” She spluttered and the pair of them continued to chuckle, exchanging looks in that infuriating way they did, until Steve returned, setting down the four pints which he easily held in his hands and slid into the spare seat next to Katie.

Thankfully, Natasha and Clint decided to leave their teasing alone and the four of them struck up a conversation talking about everything and anything. A few more pints were drunk and when it came back to Clint’s turn to buy he came back from the bar, a wicked grin on his face.

“Oh, no I know that look!” Katie pointed at him and Clint shrugged, placing her pint down in front of her before he sat down.

“Yeah, she’s right.” Natasha eyed him. “What you up to?”

“I’m just in the mood for another challenge.” Clint leaned forward, his eyebrows raising up and down as he spoke.

“Like what?” Katie folded her arms

“Which one of you…” he said, waving his finger between her and Nat, “…can down a pint fastest?”

“Is that really wise?” Steve asked and Katie smirked.

“Not for Nat, no.”

The red head quirked an eyebrow, “I’m game if you are.”

Katie shrugged as Clint chuckled and pounded his hand on the table. “Alright then, Ladies! On your marks…”

As soon as Clint had done counting down Katie raised the glass to her mouth and chugged, draining it in four seconds flat before turning it upside down on top of her head. Natasha wasn’t even half way through hers before she groaned and set it down, trying to supress a burp.

Steve couldn’t help but look at Katie, his mouth falling open.

"What?” she laughed, shrugging as the Captain exchanged a look with Clint. “I spent three years at University, drinking with boys.”

“Yeah well I’ll stick to Vodka.” Nat shook her head “Fancy that as a challenge?”

“Not a chance.” Katie scoffed, “Although Cap could.”

“He could, but he won’t” Steve sternly shot her a look “Because it wouldn’t be fair.”

Katie rolled her eyes pouting.

“You do know I’m Russian, right. Well, I was.” Nat leaned back on the bench. “I was practically weaned on the stuff.”

“Yes, I know that, but I can’t get drunk.” Steve shrugged. “My metabolism burns it off too fast.”

“Cap,” Clint sighed, shaking his head, “that might just be the saddest thing I have ever heard.”

“Even sadder than when you heard you were shipping off to guard Thor’s hammer?” Nat asked. Clint considered her point for a moment, and shrugged.

“Hmmmm. Maybe the same level of sadness at learning I was about to head to Butt-fuck America for an undefined amount of time, yes.”

Steve choked into his beer. Besides him Katie laughed and as Steve looked at Clint, the archer snorted and shook his head.

“Cap. I’m serious. It was legit in the middle of the fucking desert. Nothing for miles.”

“Hey, what happened to that one eyed puppy we found?” Katie asked suddenly.

“Err, I took him to some friends.” Clint answered after a slight pause. “Their kids love him, he’s living the best life.”

Katie and Natasha shared a smile, both understood friends to mean his family and his own kids.

“Still eating Pizza?” Katie asked.

“Pizza?” Steve asked, frowning. “Who feeds a dog pizza?”

“Well he was a bit like you in that respect. Do anything for a double pepperoni with extra cheese.” Katie nudged him with her elbow

“As long as its New York style.” Steve drained his glass, matter of factly.

“Admit it, you enjoyed it when it took you to Second City” Katie eyed him.

“You been to Seconds?” Clint asked. “Thought you swore you wouldn’t go back after that waiter said he wanted to give you a real slice of Chicago to talk about?”

“He did not!” Natasha giggled.

Katie groaned “He did.”

“Now, I wish I’d seen that.”  Nat grinned as Clint let out a loud snort.

“She went full Supernova in three seconds flat. Dragged him over the counter and everything.”

“You didn’t?” Steve glanced at her, although he knew the answer from the look on her face as she groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Look… we had just got back from a week’s stake out in Saudi Arabia…” she sighed, shrugging as Clint and Natasha laughed “I was tired and fending off the advances of some greasy, 40 something year old man politely really wasn’t top of my list.”

“Why not? You do it every day to Rumlow” Nat smirked.

At the mention of his name Steve felt his eyes narrow. He hated the way the STRIKE leader blatantly eyed Katie up at every given chance. It was disrespectful.

“Don’t start that again” Katie rolled her eyes.

“He’s not a bad looking guy.” Nat persisted. “You could do worse.”

“You like him so much you fuck him!” Katie’s voice was snappy. Romanoff leaned back in her chair, eyeing her over half full glass, smirking.

“Touched a nerve, Stark?”

“No, you’re just talking crap, as usual.” she shot back, standing up. “My round.”

Steve moved so that she could get out from the booth and watched her head to the bar.

“Think we need to lay off the whole Rumlow thing.” Clint snorted, turning Nat. “She’s clearly not interested.”

“She’s obviously looking for someone a little less…” Nat pondered and Clint cut in.

“Of an ass hat?”

Steve snorted and Natasha shrugged.

“I was gonna say a little more of a gentleman but…if the cap fits…” Her eyes flashed to Steve and he looked at her, his eyebrows pulling together as he felt the heat flushing to his neck. She simply shrugged, in her usual nonchalant way before she changed the subject.

****

A few hours later Clint and Nat decided they’d had enough and left to grab a taxi. When Clint was in town he always stayed with Nat, prompting Steve to wonder if there was anything going on beyond the platonic friendship. He pondered it for a moment, deciding to just ask the question.

 “Is there something between them?” he nodded to the pair as they left.

“No.” Katie shook her head “Absolutely not.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but don’t be pissed I haven’t told you before…” she said, pausing “Clint…he’s married, has two kids.”

“What?” Steve choked on his beer.

“They have a place, somewhere, I don’t know exactly but it’s off SHIELD’s books and no one knows bar me, Nat and Fury.”

“Huh.” Steve pondered the information for a moment and Katie took a deep breath.

“Look, sorry I didn’t tell you but…”

“It’s okay.” Steve smiled. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little bit disappointed she hadn’t told him before, but he understood, she was loyal to a fault. “I get it, he’s your friend.”

“Yeah I know but he’s not my best friend.” she batted her eyelids at him.

“Hmmm, stop buttering me up.”

“Has it worked?”

“Yes.” He deadpanned, draining his glass and she grinned “Same again?”

They had a couple more before Katie decided she was one pint away from being drunk and Steve found himself a little bit disappointed she wanted to leave. He was enjoying spending the time with her. It felt different to their usual trips out, she’d been more relaxed than he had seen her in a long time, enjoying the gentle touches she made to his arm and leg when she was teasing him.

His mind flicked back to Natasha’s little comment before and he found himself wondering if the red head knew something he didn’t. Was there something there on Katie’s part too? As he studied her for a moment as she pulled on her jacket, talking to him, he shook himself out of it. No, why would someone like her look twice at someone like him.

He managed to tune back into what she was saying, telling her no way was he giving her a lift home on the back of his bike without a helmet, causing her to pout and bat her lashes at him in an outrageously over the top manner causing him to snort.

“That ain’t gonna work either.” He shook his head and she shrugged.

“Worth a shot.” She chuckled as they made their way to the door. “And speaking of shots, you really shouldn’t have told Nat you can’t get drunk and whooped her ass at a vodka necking contest.” Her arm linked into his as they walked, and she leaned into him a little, her head laying against his upper bicep.

“Now that would have been dishonest. “Steve smirked. “Surely you’re not saying I should use my enhancement to my advantage in such a situation?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” she nodded.

Steve laughed, sticking his arm out to hail a cab for her.

“But then you’re a very honest kinda guy.”

“I have my moments.” He turned to face her

“Moments? Nah ah, you can’t lie for shit!” she grinned at him.

“No, I can’t lie to you for shit, Sweetheart” He rolled his eyes “You know me too well.”

“Hmmm, true.” she nodded in agreement as the car stopped at the curb and Steve opened the door for her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Steve asked, not particularly happy she was cabbing back alone, it was times like this he wished he had a car. “I can walk back for my bike.”

“I can handle myself, I’m a trained killer remember?” she raised her hands and made gun signs at him with her fingers. He shook his head, smiling.

“You’re an idiot.” He snorted a laugh.

“But you love me!” She grinned, standing on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. “G’night, Soldier.”

“Call me when you’re home.” He instructed “And if I ain’t heard from you in twenty…” he raised his voice so the cab driver could hear.

She shook her head, smiling as she climbed into the taxi and waved as it pulled off.

It wasn’t long before she was home and once she made her way into her bedroom, Katie kicked off her boots, flopped down onto her bed and pulled out her phone, better do as Captain Badass instructed or knowing him he’d turn up and kick the door in.

“So I’m home Old timer…” she said, when he answered and from his sigh she knew he would be rolling his eyes.

“Less of the old” he retorted, the clinking of cutlery and plates rattling in the background.

“What you doing?” she asked.

“Making food.”

“You can’t cook.”

“Yes I can.”

“So why have you never cooked for me?” she asked indignantly, feeling somewhat annoyed that she always did the cooking for the two of them.

“Because you’re better at it.” He replied, simply. “And I’ve made you grilled cheese before. And soup. Now drink some water and go to sleep.”

“God you’re so bossy.” she grumbled.

“Someone has to be, you’re a law unto yourself.”

“If I say it will you do what I said?”

“Maybe, probably, definitely maybe” she shrugged to herself.

“Then you’re awesome. Goodnight, Doll.”

“Night Stevie.”

****

Steve cut the call, placing his phone down on the counter as he thought back over the day, waiting for his food to heat up. For the first time in a long time he actually felt completely at ease. Ease with his life both in and out of SHIELD.

Up until a few weeks ago it had still felt slightly confusing, and it still did with the STRIKE team sometimes. At first he had been tentative, not trying to step on Rumlow’s toes but that had quickly settled and the two of them had fallen into a pretty good working relationship. As much as Rumlow could rile him, Steve knew that the man was good at his job, and Steve was equally good at his. He was the tactician, Rumlow organised the troops. But sometimes, well, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Sometimes he felt interest, but it was often coloured by the lingering disillusionment that his team were merely humouring him as the blue eyed all American hero he had been painted to be.

But never once had he felt like that with Katie.

And then his apartment seemed to blur in front of him, causing him to realise this went way beyond some daft crush. He was really falling in deep. The heat travelled up his chest into his neck and he felt his palms become sweaty. He dropped his arms to wipe them on his jeans as the fizzy feeling left his body, but stayed by him, swirling around until he could practically hear it. This really, really wouldn’t do. She was his best friend, a work colleague, the daughter of one of his friends from the forties…and then there was Peggy.

Not for the first time Steve delved into the reasons he’d been drawn to Katie, comparing her to Peggy. Both women had strong personalities, an unwavering sense of justice and ethics, a deep well of compassion, loyalty, and the air of authority that put more than one man in his place, including himself. They were both incredibly beautiful, filled with passion, devotion and ambition…

Abandoning his food, his appetite lost completely, he threw the remains into the bin and headed into his bedroom, intending to do what he did best when it came to women. 

Stick his head in the sand and hope to God it all went away.

****

Once she’d cleaned her face of make-up and pulled on a pair of pyjamas, Katie collapsed into her pillow, thinking about what a good day it had been. She hadn’t disgraced herself at the contest, had a good evening in the pub afterwards, and to top it off Fury and Steve had actually backed her in said contest.

At the thought of Steve, it reminded her she needed some water. Heading to the kitchen she grabbed a glass, filled it, and then made her way back to bed, this time snuggling down under the covers as she smiled to herself.

It was kind of nice to have Steve looking out for her, even if he was a bossy bastard about drinking water. It showed he cared. And it wasn’t just that, it was the way he was so comfortable with her. The gentle touches to her arm and lower back, the fact he called her doll or sweetheart. The smile that he flashed her that could light up his entire face, and those eyes, those god damned beautiful eyes that could drown her in seconds.

Her stomach was suddenly crawling with those damned butterflies, the same ones she had been feeling on or off around him now since Thanksgiving. And they fluttered from her stomach to her chest

“You’re hot for Rogers…”

Natasha and Clint had both hit the nail on the head, and that nail was getting harder and harder to ignore. She had feelings for Captain fucking America. Her dad’s friend, her best friend.

Groaning, she rolled over and shoved her head into the pillows. “I’m so fucked.”

**** Chapter 3

**Original Posting**

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Hello. I am, as you know, an American. I turned eighteen in 2014, voted in my first presidential election in 2016, and voted in my second presidential election last week via early voting in the state of Texas. 

I’m reflecting right now on the difference between those experiences. This is going to be a very self-indulgent essay. 

The 2016 election was in my third and final year of undergrad at Texas A&M University. At the time, I was living with a roommate who grew up in a town of 2,000, all of them members of her church. I loved her very much, but she was the most sheltered person I’ve ever met. 

I was only a few years ahead of her. My home growing up was deeply liberal about many of the things that counted, but deeply conservative on equally important things. For me, leaving for college was a radicalization speed-run.

I, a good Memphis girl, moved to Texas and encountered for the first time in my life white homogeny and everything that comes with it. I made most of my friends at A&M through a Christian orientation camp that I attended, then worked at. I went to school at a history department that was overwhelmingly male and war-obsessed. 

My second semester, I was randomly sorted into a writing seminar on the American Civil War and Reconstruction. There were eight other students in that class, all of them Texans. By day two I had gotten into a open fight with one of my classmates after he used the phrases “one of the humane parts of slavery” and “the secession declarations are moving and beautiful appeals, if you read them,” and “well I’m not going to criticize my own state.”

We got into at least one yelling match per week from that point forward. It was a formative experience for me-- not just him but the seven other students that took his side every time because they just couldn’t conceptualize anything outside of their own experiences, and frankly, I couldn’t either. 

It rocked my world to be surrounded by people who told me, among other things, that their high schools flew the Confederate battle flag or Lee was their all time role-model (because he actually didn’t want to secede! He didn’t believe in it, but Virginia did, so he put his own qualms aside and served his country, and that’s what we all have to do). I ran a survey once by knocking on every door in a dorm hall and asking the two people inside why the Civil War happened. 

I feel like you can guess the most common answer I got. Only two said slavery. Six didn’t know what the Civil War was. 

The last week of the semester, my class read a collection of recorded oral accounts of freed slaves during Reconstruction. My nemesis told me that he “didn’t realize black people actually had it bad.” At the same time, I was struggling with my sexuality, my relationship to my religion, my relationship with my parents, and a handful of newly-diagnosed but long-existing mental illnesses. I wasn’t having fun. 

Over the next three years, I tried my hardest to humanize the people that said disgusting things about minorities, poverty, and me personally. I barely won on that one, and I’m actually really proud that I did, even if it took me a few years. I can trace the biggest change in me directly to my nemesis from the history department, the kid that made me so mad that I started arguing back. I was too scared to do that before. 

By 2016, I was in full existential spin-out-- a very suddenly liberal kid fighting my whole family, all of my classmates, and most of my friends in an explosive political climate, the first I had ever participated in. 

I voted by Tennessee absentee ballot in 2016. On election night, I ordered takeout for me and my roommate, who I knew had voted red. Confident, like pretty much everybody, that Clinton would win, I was trying to show her that I didn’t hate her. She went to bed after dinner, also so certain that Clinton would win that she didn’t bother to stay up. 

I sat in front of my laptop sewing a birthday present for a friend (Kenza, actually), while the votes came in. I wasn’t super alarmed when the map turned red. I just figured the blue states hadn’t finished counting yet. 

The map didn’t get any bluer. By 1am, I knew what was about to happen. They called it an hour later, while I was sobbing on my floor. I threw up in the bathroom out of pure anxiety. I got two anonymous messages telling me the asker was going to commit suicide. Neither of them responded to my replies. I don’t actually know what happened to them. 

I remember riding the bus to class the next morning and distinctly seeing that most of the racial minorities there had swollen eyes from crying. The girl with the pride stickers all over her laptop didn’t show up that day, and I’m kind of glad she didn’t, considering the way some of our classmates in the back were loudly talking about “the gays.” Hope she’s okay.

My roommate came home completely unaware that Clinton lost. I was crying in my room when that happened. I remember showing her a demographic map of who voted which way. She got visibly upset when she figured out what races how. I think she really did feel guilty. 

That Thanksgiving, one of my cousins tweeted, “I can’t wait to go argue with my liberal cousin today. The wins. Keep. Coming,” an hour before he walked into my house. Inauguration day was January 20, 2017. I decided to go to law school a week later, the day the president signed the Muslim ban. That’s when I figured out for the first time just how much power the courts have. The last three years have only enforced that. 

I got angrier and angrier during law school, egged on by a few friends but more than anything just... finally conscious of exactly how the American system works and exactly who’s behind it. I still live in Texas, farther west now, and I’m working my first legal job. I’m going to be a licensed attorney next week. 

I went back and forth for months about how this election was going to shake out. I knew there wasn’t going to be an overwhelming red majority this time, but my big fear was an election close enough that the Supreme Court could take it. That fear doubled last month, at RBG’s death. 

I was hoping for a blue enough victory on election night that there wouldn’t be a week of uncertainty, but that was unlikely, and it didn’t happen. I obsessively refreshed my election map all of Wednesday and Thursday, aware that at least some states would flip after mail-in ballots came in, but unsure which would. 

Again, my great fear was a blue victory held down by only one state. Given (I would say “any” chance here, but I don’t mean “any” chance because genuinely jurisdiction or facts or legal merit don’t matter to the Supreme Court) an opportunity to make one (1) decision that hands over a red election, please know that a conservative supermajority would take it. I cannot emphasize enough how true that is and how important it is for all of us to grasp that. 

Watching Georgia flip was one of the best experiences of my life, and it’s a little hard for me to articulate why, but I’m going to give it a shot here. I’m southern. I’m from the South, and for this conversation it’s really important that I’m from Memphis, a black city and a center of black music and culture. 

When people think about the South, they think of the white South, and on some level, they should. It is absolutely essential to understand the white South in order to understand American history. Let me be 100% clear here. That is not a good thing. American majority history is not good. We are not a good country. 

It’s near-impossible to understand why that’s true without knowing exactly what happened in the white South and exactly what is still happening there now. With that, however, is another truth that most folks don’t get. 

The SouthTM is white and needs to die. The South as it actually exists is partially white yes, but it is also everyone else that lives here, particularly black folks. Southern culture is black, not white. Georgia flipped because the people that have always, always been there finally got to crack apart the conservative machine holding the South hostage. 

That’s amazing. It’s fucking mind-blowing. I watched it happen at 3:30 in the morning days after Election Day, and holy shit holy shit, Georgia flipped. Atlanta won. Holy fucking shit. 

I would be terrified right now if only Georgia flipped, because SCOTUS would have found a way to throw out a few thousand votes. Inevitable. Absolutely certain on that one. 

With a few states of buffer, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I really do think it’s over. 

I came home after work on Friday and immediately went to sleep because I hadn’t really done that since Tuesday. I woke up at noon today, checked the map, checked my messages, and saw what happened while I was gone. After that, I went back to bed until 5:30pm. I’m really just getting up now, after most of 24 hours asleep. 

I don’t know if I would say that I’m happy right now, but I am overwhelmingly relieved. I’m under no illusions that a Biden victory will solve everything, but I also do think this is a real thing to celebrate. I’ll take suggestions on how to celebrate right now, actually, since I’m finally awake. 

I’ll be angry forever, I think, but this is a good thing, and I’d like to enjoy it. If you’re happy right now, hey, tell me about it. I’ll be thrilled with you. I want to hear it. Congrats to all of us. Love y’all. 

[kyoonqs]

iluso amor ; second part.

↬ summary: Cora has always considered herself elusive, easy to bore and adventurous to the last fiber of her body. One day for no apparent reason, she appears in front of the manager of a globetrotting circus passing through the city where she is temporarily staying to fill her life with magic. Baekhyun, as serious as he is handsome, has no intention of playing a role other than on the main canvas of the circus. He decides to separate Cora from her life of fantasies created by her travels and sets out to show her reality as raw and cruel as he knows it. Or so he believes.

Will time run out too quickly before love and passion devour him and he decides to risk everything for a love that lasts… Forever?

↬ pairing: baekhyun x cora fem!reader.

↬ circus!au ; illusionist!baek x hitchhiker!oc ; strangers to lovers au!

↬ genre: fluff ; romance ; angst ; drama.

↬ length: 3.6 k words.

↬ tag list: @changshapatrol @spacebyuns @fluffyhunnie @soos-goddess @hoho-cham @shadoukiti @sunbyun21​ @mangobaek​ @suhotly​ @pororodks​ @bbhbae​ @blahblahblah-boo 

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know!

↬ masterlist.

Baekhyun was giving orders, simultaneously lending a hand to the circus men and Cora noticed the tense muscles in his arms as he loaded seats into the forklift and pulled the rope. At that moment she remembered that when he had left her alone, she had roamed the caravan from start to finish, only to find one of his whips on the bed. Despite seeing his conduct at the show, she couldn't help but feel threatened. It was then that she realized she had no courage to sleep in the trailer, not even on the couch.

–“Come on, let's go to bed.” The last vestiges of the dream vanished and Cora was immediately on guard. The darkness was absolute, she couldn't see anything. Most of the trucks were gone and the workers with them.

–“I have decided to sleep here.”

–“Outside? I don’t think so. In case you haven't noticed, you're shivering.” He was right. It wasn't cold when she had first stepped outside, but the temperature had dropped since then.

–“Take this as a friendly warning. I've barely slept in three days. First we had a storm and we almost lost the circus cover, then I had to make two trips. I’m not an easygoing person in the best of circumstances, but I’m even worse when I don’t sleep.” He raised the arm at her side and she hissed in alarm when she saw a whip twisted into his hand. Cora gasped when Baekhyun grabbed her arm and pulled Cora to her feet without putting up much resistance. He opened the door to the trailer and turned on the light, gently nudging her elbow to enter. Was it just Cora's imagination or had the inside of the trailer shrunk since she'd first seen it?

–“Please don't touch me again.”

–“I'm too tired to think of anything you imagine I can do to you, if that's what you're concerned about.” His words did not reassure her.

–“Why do you carry the whip everywhere? Are you threatening me?”

He muttered something under his breath, closed the door and walked over to the bed to sit down. He dropped the whip to the ground, but the handle still rested on his knee. She looked at him apprehensively.

On one hand, Cora had promised to continue her journey, he hadn't hurt her or anyone else but on the other, there was no doubt that he scared her. She wasn't very skilled at fighting, but she knew what to do when the time came necessary. She steeled herself.

–“I think we should clear things up. I want you to know that I will not be able to live with you if you keep intimidated me in this way.”

–“Intimidating you? What are you talking about?”. Her nervousness increased, but she forced herself to continue.

–“I guess you can't help it. It's probably because of the way you grew up, although it's not that I believed that story you told onstage. Your lack of sanity?”  She paused. “Because it's fake, right?”. 

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

–“Yes, of course it is,” she hastened to say. 

–“What I mean by intimidating, I mean your attitude and …” she took a deep breath, “that whip.”

–“What's the matter with it?”. Cora shut her eyes. With a wrinkle of her nose she bit her lip and took a deep breath before starting again.

–“If you have that kind of inclination, I would appreciate you telling me now instead of giving hints.”

–“What are you talking about?”. He continued to stare blankly at her, until she screamed in frustration.

–“For the love of God! If you intend to hit me for pleasure, tell me. Hey, Cora, I like to whip people for pleasure, and you're next on the list. At least I would know what's on your mind”. 

His eyebrows raised, “Would that make you feel better?” 

She nodded.

–“As you wish.” Baekhyun looked at her with sparkling eyes and repeated the same phrase she tried to dictate to him seconds ago. He excused himself saying he was going to shower, went into the bathroom and closed the door. Cora nibbled on her lower lip. That hadn't exactly gone as planned.

Baekhyun chuckled as the shower water poured onto his body. Cora had given him more fun in the past ten hours than he'd gotten in the entire year before. Or maybe even more. His life was normally a very serious matter. Laughter was a luxury he hadn't been able to afford very often. But it was only natural when he had spent his whole life chasing something.

He remembered her comment about a fetish...maybe? But it would have spoiled the fun if he had explained that he always carried a whip when he knew the workers had been drinking. 

Traveling circuses were like a war zone when it came to solving problems –they had to be prevented before they arose– and the sight of the whip was a very dissuasive measure to alleviate the temper of some.

Despite how much the last confrontation with the girl had amused him, he had a feeling that the fun would not last long. This year he was putting him to the test, first a promise made to the circus owner on his deathbed: to do one last tour with the circus, and second the challenges that came with navigating one, including Cora.

As he let the water run off the shampoo, he thought about his past. Baekhyun had known the circus since he was eight years old and one of them spent the summer touring the towns of the Spanish coast. He would never forget that afternoon when he had accompanied his father to make the profit tally of imported products to Korea and the noise of a crowd gathered on the avenue caught his attention. 

He remembered how after begging his mother to convince his father to take him to a show –  it had become his absolute dream to become a circus performer. This dream would seemingly collapse at 18 when his father gave him maturity lessons during summer vacation. After that he’d traveled with the circus to earn money, and then much later, in adulthood, when every few years he left his life behind and spent a few months on the road.

Baekhyun's character had been shaped by his father's wise sermons and his always astute observations about the world and how hard it was for a man to survive. A man had to work hard, take care of himself, and maintain his pride.

Circumstances had made him that way, a tough and stubborn man who lived by his own code with no illusions about himself. And Cora... she lived in a dream world created from travel and tourist places.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbed another to dry his hair, and opened the bathroom door. Cora gulped when the bathroom door opened and he stepped out. While he dried his head with the towel, she took the opportunity to look carefully at what seemed a perfect body, with well-defined but not excessively toned muscles. Baekhyun possessed a broad chest and shoulders, hips considerably narrower than said shoulders and his abdomen was flat, hard. Her gaze followed the arrow of hair that started at the navel and continued under the towel. Suddenly, she felt heated as she wondered what it would be like below.

–“I'll drop the towel in five seconds.” He deprived her of the vision of his chest when he turned his back on her and headed for the bed.

She quickly grabbed some clean underwear and a faded Kyung Hee University t-shirt that she had found on the same couch, surely belonging to Baekhyun – and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door. 

Twenty minutes later, she came out of the shower fresh with his shirt on. She had decided that it was preferable to wear this over the only nightgown she had, a tiny pink silk babydoll with lots of lace that her aunt had given her in case she "conquered" European men.

He slept on his back, the sheet covering his bare hips. It wasn’t right to look at a person while they were sleeping, but she couldn't stop doing it. She walked to the foot of the bed and watched him, looking up from his abdomen to his chest to admire the perfect symmetry of the male torso. Asleep, he didn't look the same. 

Cora's hands tingled with the urge to caress his cheeks and comb his hair. She didn't understand how it was the same man who had scared her to the point of wanting to bolt out of there, she wanted to understand what was going through his mind, she wanted to approach him and tell him that she wasn’t as dumb as she seemed. 

She stared at him for a few minutes more, swearing to herself that she would do her best to figure out and ease the weight on his shoulders. She lay back on the sofa and tried to fall asleep as soon as possible. Starting tomorrow, a new chapter of her life will begin.

–“Wake up, dulzura. We have a long day ahead of us.”

She rolled onto her stomach. He tugged on the sheet and Cora felt the cool air brush against the back of her bare thighs. She refused to move. If she did, she would have to face a new day. She buried her face deeper into the pillow. She felt a soft and warm hand rest in her hair, curling it back softly, clearing her face so that the Sun –which was barely peeking out– would illuminate her face. She rejoiced in the caress. Baekhyun was grinning widely but she missed it by putting up resistance to getting up.

Only when he pulled his hand away did she slowly open her eyes to see that he was already dressed and shaved at that unholy hour. Baekhyun glanced at her body, reminding her that she was actually practically naked under the sheet, just dressed in an old t-shirt of his and some rather compromising panties. When she realized it, she rolled onto her back and pulled the sheet up to cover herself with it.

–“We have almost three hours of travel ahead of us and we will be leaving in ten minutes. Get dressed and do something useful.” He turned away from her and went to the sink.

–“It's still night.” Cora and squinted at the gray morning light streaming through the dirty little windows.

–“It's almost six o'clock.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and raised the mug to his lips.

–“I'll stay in here while you drive.”

–“It’s illegal.” Baekhyun set the coffee cup on the table, then reached down to quickly pick up the clothes from the floor. He examined her critically and handed her a pair of jeans that had been hanging over the armrest of the chair.

Cora wanted to say something funny but was sure he would not be amused, so she reluctantly went to the bathroom. Ten minutes later she came out dressed and noticed that he was in front of the open kitchen cupboard, somewhat indecisive and it could even be said that a certain sadness claimed his face. She noticed that on the sink was an apple, a packaged cupcake, the last of the oatmeal frosts from the jar that contained them, and a recyclable bottle of what looked like yogurt.

–“Um... this morning you can eat whatever you want, you don't have many options but I know you can satisfy your stomach with this. From the next purchase we’ll have to divide the food between us. The circus is beautiful but it doesn’t leave much profit.” It was the first time she had heard him so dejected, almost regretful and that confirmed Cora's suspicion: his gruff behavior possessed a reason so she would try her best to not be another burden. She just hoped that Baekhyun would build the confidence to share his troubles.

She murmured a "thank you" as soft and delicate as she could when he stepped past her, scratching the back of his neck as if the situation had made him more uncomfortable than it should. She decided that from now on, she would try not to feel scared in front of him and that she would be the strong woman her mother had instilled in her to be.

They barely spoke during the first hour of travel. Since he hadn't given her enough time to get ready, Cora had to finish “putting on makeup” –she was only able to apply lip balm and blush– in the truck and comb her hair as best she could despite the bumps on the road, holding her hair in a high ponytail which she braided first then decorated at the end with a patterned fabric bow. Baekhyun observed her as much as he could from the corner of his eye, avoiding a smile that would give him away and enjoying how her hair twisted when she moved her fingers from side to side. He thought that with her washed face she looked prettier than the day before. The shadows in her eyes distracted from the color and spark they possessed and the lipstick widened her lips to the point that they appeared be swollen.

Around mid-morning, Baekhyun bought orange juice, some cereal bars and two packaged sandwiches. He stopped the truck in a place decorated with flags and logs cut to a length that suggested they were to be used for seating. After eating, Cora went to the bathroom and tried to find money with which she could return the favor to Baekhyun, but she only found some coupons from a previous job and some tokens for the spreading machine. 

When she came out she realized two things: one, an attractive waitress was flirting with Baekhyun and two, he was doing absolutely nothing to discourage her.

Cora watched him tilt his head and smile at something the girl had said. She experienced a twinge of jealousy as he seemed to be enjoying the waitress's company more than her own. She made up her mind to ignore what was happening but then it came to her recollection she’d never explicitly let on to having feelings for Baekhyun. Cora feared that if she came on too strongly, crossed barriers he wasn’t ready to do away with just yet, she’d never have the opportunity to get closer. Though he had been fairly hospitable, there was always an air of reluctance that clouded his every  interaction with her, a sort of underlying anxiety she couldn’t quite place. With resignation, she straightened her shoulders and approached the table where she gave the clerk her most radiant smile.

–“Thank you very much for keeping this dulzura company. Most of the time, he doesn’t like talking.” The waitress seemed somewhat surprised by Cora's friendly demeanor. She then lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “It was very kind of her, wasn't it, mi amor?”. 

Baekhyun choked on his coffee. She leaned in to pat him on the back while giving the girl a beaming smile.

Controlling his cough, he stood up from the table with an expression even angrier than was usual for him. Before he had a chance to open his mouth, Cora reached out and brought it to her lips so he wouldn't say anything. He looked at her like he was going to strangle her, but he just tossed several bills on the table and shoved her out of the restaurant.

–“Are you going to get mad about a little joke? Haven't you gotten used to clowns yet?” Cora's shoes slipped on the gravel as he dragged her toward the truck and the ugly trailer.

–“I already told you, you’re the grumpiest man I have ever met. And it doesn't suit you, not at all, Baekhyun. Let me tell you something, I was right, you look much more handsome smiling.”

He halted in his tracks and although she hoped he would say something to her, perhaps return the compliment, he continued his accelerated march to the truck. Disappointed, she grabbed the door handle, pulled and seated herself on the passenger side. Moments later they were back on the road.

The morning was sunny. The warm air coming in through the ajar window was not yet suffocating. Cora couldn't find any reason for him to sulk on such a perfect and beautiful morning, so she finally broke the silence. 

So far Baekhyun had been cooperative, he had commented that they were going to Fraga, they would spend two nights there and then they would continue traveling through the rest of Huesca. They had 4 months ahead of it, a life of trips and tours that were only missed once the season was over, exhausting but full of colors and renewed illusions in the face of each person who made up the audience during their performances. She wished they’d already given a place in the show. She still had little clue as to what she would have to go through first.

–“This will be the last season of the circus. So we will put in our best efforts. The owner passed away at the beginning of the year and his wife, Algeria, has inherited the circus and has put it up for sale.” He said, pressing his lips together almost imperceptibly. Cora noticed anyway. 

–“Have you been at the circus a long time?” she asked, determined to find out more about him.

–“I go and come. I traveled with the circus from my teenage years until I was twenty. Since then I’ve come and gone.” She took the time to appreciate him better than she could the night before, surprised that he was speaking so "openly" and that he wasn't growling in the middle of her questioning. 

The questions didn’t stop there, Cora would take her time asking him as much as she could but she had been somewhat disappointed when he didn't ask her any in return. Suddenly she remembered that she was there for work and decided to inform Baekhyun that she had never set foot in a job as artistic as the circus.

–“I just wanted to say that I don't know anything about the circus world.”

–“You'll learn. Gael, the guy who normally runs the locker, has to be away for a couple of days. You’ll be taking his place until he returns, and then you can join the show. We open the function with the parade presentation. Later we can look for the act you’ll be joining.”

She only made an approving sound. For now she was only counting the moles that were spread evenly and in isolation from his face to his ears and even fingers.

They continued traveling several miles in silence while she pondered what he had told her. But it was what he hadn’t said that worried her the most. Unknown to her, the word "love" –amor as she had called him in front of the waitress– had been bouncing around inside his skull. Baekhyun had been thinking that perhaps Cora wasn’t as empty-headed as he initially believed and perhaps he liked the nickname more than he expected.

↬ author’s note: today's chapter has been a little longer, hope you enjoy it! as you know, any feedback is welcome ♡ and must tell you something important, pay attention to the small details, they will play an important role in the plot! last but not least, thanks to Oliv for her help and time invested in helping me get each part correctly narrated.

[amelialincoln]

Prompt: Amelia calls home (either mom or sisters) on the Bluetooth in the car home except she has one of Mer’s kids with her who completely exposes Amelia

yes but its scout instead 

Past in Present 

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell anyone.” Amelia sighed, playing with her seatbelt uncomfortably. “It’s just that last time we told everyone immediately...and we lost it...and everyone was walking on eggshells around me for weeks. If that happens again I want to be able to grieve alone with you in private, not with the whole freaking hospital’s eyes on us.” She played with the tiny ultrasound scan in her lap absentmindedly. Link nodded, staring straight into the traffic in front of him. They barely brought it up and she could tell that the topic upset him by how hard he was clutching the steering wheel. “Hey.” She placed her hand on his rigid shoulder. “I’m not trying to be negative.”

“I know,” he whispered, glancing at her and giving her a small smile before pulling her thigh towards the driver’s seat and resting his hand atop of it. “You just know how bad I am at secrets.”

“Yeah, I mean you told Jo like an hour after I told you the first time,” she joked.

“Well, I was in a state of shock,” he chuckled.

“Auntie Jo?” Scout squealed from the backseat, apparently suddenly awake and full of energy. Amelia grinned, turning to face the giggling toddler in the back. She was sure that he’d gotten every last bit of her ADHD.

“Yes, bug, we’re talking about auntie Jo.” She reached to tickle the small boy’s feet and he erupted into happy screams in response.

“Inside voice, Scout,” his father winced.

“Sorry, Dadda,” Scout whispered almost comically, causing Amelia to stifle a laugh.

“Hey, your sister is calling.” Link motioned to the car’s audio display. Before Amelia could ask which one he added, “Liz,” and answered before she could tell him otherwise. “Hey, Liz, It’s Link. You're on speakerphone in the car.”

“Hi, Link,” Liz gushed, causing Amelia to roll her eyes. “Can you hear me, Amy?” 

“Yep,” she replied, forcing enthusiasm. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just wanted to see how you were holding up out there. Also, you know me being the planner I am, I was wondering if you guys were planning on coming for Christmas? Just trying to get everything sorted.”

“That’s like six months away,” Amelia replied, giving Link an exasperated look.

“I know,” Liz laughed. “It’s just we’re deciding whether to stay in the city or book a getaway in Colorado for the whole family and it all depends if you guys are coming or not.”

“Well, I mean--”

“Sorry, Liz, we’re just going under the tunnel so you might cut out for a sec.” Link pressed the mute button on Amelia’s phone.

“Link, what’s up? I can tell her that we aren’t coming just--”

“No, I think going would be fun, it's just you shouldn’t be flying that late in your pregnancy,” he reminded her, rubbing reassuring circles on her thigh as he watched her confusion pass.

“Mommy’s preeganant!” Scout sang from behind them. Amelia would do anything to go back to the night that they told him to witness the look on his face for a second time. To say he was excited was an understatement.

“You’re right, big guy.” She laughed as Link gave the babbling toddler an awkward backwards high five. “It’s fine, babe. We’ll just say no and they’ll understand when we tell them the news another day.”

“Okay,” He sighed. “But if she gets mad, you’re taking the blame. She scares me.” Amelia rolled her eyes, unmuting the phone.

“Hey, Liz. Can you hear us now? Sorry, there was some traffic as we were going under.”

“Yep, all good,” Liz’s voice rang from the other end. “Back to Christmas then.”

“Yeah, it might be a little too much this year. I think Maggie and Winston are flying in from Chicago and Scout hasn’t seen them in awhile.”

“Oh, wow. You’ve really got it all planned out in advance then,” Liz teased, her tone was evident that she knew Amelia was making excuses, as always.

“My Mommy is having a baby!” Scout took the silence as the perfect time for his big announcement. 

“Scout,” Amelia hissed, as the couple turned around to stare at their son in horror. Link burst out laughing and Amelia swatted him angrily.

“Um, congratulations?” Liz’s voice came from the other end. “Nice to hear from you, Scout. Wanna clear anything up, Amelia?”

“Uh, eight weeks along but obviously there’s a chance I could miscarry so I don’t want to give a concrete no for Christmas yet.” She bit her fingernail nervously.

“That’s amazing! You actually have a good excuse this year then,” Liz laughed. “We were all worried you had decided to stop after Scout, with him being five. We just remember you going on as a kid about wanting four kids over and over.” Link grinned at that, squeezing his wife’s thigh excitedly. “Obviously Scout is perfect on his own but we just hoped we were going to get another niece or nephew,” Liz exclaimed happily. Amelia groaned, imagining how many family dinners that her and Link’s lack of babies had been the topic of conversation. “Have you gotten a scan? You know we’d all love to see pictures.”

“Yeah, I’ll send some over,” Amelia sighed, her enthusiasm wearing out. “Well, it was really nice to talk to you, Liz. Just try to keep the baby news on the down low until we’re sure that everything will work itself out.”

“Oh, Amelia, stop fretting. It’s unlike you. I already texted Mom and she’s over the moon.”

“Grandma!” Scout babbled happily, confused by the glare he was receiving from his mother.

“Yes, exactly, Scout. Amy, we all really need to see more of your little angel.” Amelia could her slightly condescending tone through the phone. 

“Alright, Liz. We’ve got to go.” Her finger hovered over the end call button as Liz said her goodbye before ending the call and bursting into tears.

“Mia, what?” Link pulled into their driveway and parked quickly before enveloping her in a hug.

“I’m hormonal and tired, it’s fine,” she mumbled, pushing him away limply.

“Momma, why are you sad?” Scout asked quietly. “Did I say something bad?”

“No, baby,” Amelia sighed, removing Scout from his carseat and picking him up into his arms to console him.

“Give him to me,” Link ordered. “We’ve talked about carrying heavy stuff. He’s too big now.” Amelia sighed, passing the wiggling boy into his fathers arms, not in the mood to argue.

                                                        [][][]

“Hey, I finally got him into bed, are you feeling better?” Link winced as Amelia threw up in response. “Pizza didn’t sit right?”

“Please don’t talk about pizza,” Amelia begged, laying down on the cool bathroom tile. “Just leave me to die.” Link chuckled, sitting down beside her and running his hand through her sweaty hair.

“Baby number two is causing a lot more grief than Scout, huh?”

“Link, this is baby number four,” Amelia sniffled, moving slightly to lay her head on his lap and letting a wave of dizziness pass over her. “Just because Christopher and Jake didn’t make it doesn’t mean...”

“I know, Mia. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry,” he sighed, trying to read her distant expression. “You want to get in the shower?”

“Maybe, I think that was the last of it,” she grimaced, allowing him to tug off her crewneck and sweats.

“I was talking to Jo and she said she started showing earlier with her second baby,” Link beamed as he stepped into the steamy shower behind her. The topic of Jo being able to get pregnant twice so easily in the time frame that him and Amelia had been trying for one usually set her off but instead his wife smiled softly.

“Yeah, I read that somewhere too. Maybe sometime this month then.”

“Are you upset about the conversation with Liz?” He asked, pouring shampoo on the crown of her head before doing the same to his.

“I just don’t like the idea of them gossiping about our lack of children. Scout is perfect on his own, he doesn’t need a sibling,” she replied, rubbing the shampoo angrily into her scalp.

“Okay, can you have a little bit of faith here though?” Link sighed, tugging her around to face him. “I’m not asking you to get your hopes up or throw a party, I just want a little reassurance that you’re actually happy about this.” Amelia softened.

“Of course I’m happy,” she brushed soapy water off of his forehead, absentmindedly. “We’ve wanted this for years.”

“Okay...do we still want it? Cause I’m confused here, Amelia.” He glanced down at her hands resting on her midsection.

“Link, I want this baby so bad it’s literally tearing me apart and I don’t know if I can handle going through what we went through again. I honestly...” she trailed off not knowing how to find the right words.

“I’m here, Mia. I’m always going to be here,” he assured her, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a kiss on her wet forehead. “No matter what, we’re going to have each other.”

“I know,” she smiled softly, letting out a long exhale. “It’s just been hard, these past couple of years, watching everyone around us give birth to beautiful, healthy babies. Maggie, Jo, Maya...and everyone keeps asking us if we’re planning on having more and I have to keep saying not right now as if we haven’t been trying for years.”

“Carina said the heartbeat was strong,” Link reminded her with a sense of pride that was usually only associated with Scout.

“I know,” she replied, tiredly. “That’s good.” Link nodded, leaning back under the stream of water to rid his hair of suds.

“Alright, let’s get you out of here. It’s boiling and you look like you’re about to pass out,” he teased.

“I honestly might,” she yawned in response, allowing him to wrap her up in one of their fluffy, white towels and carry her to bed.

[pastelsandpining]

I’ll Be Home (Coming Home After Being Away)

The seventh prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts​ | Prequel

Prompt List

Words: 4596

Summary: So, this is actually a sequel to tomorrow’s prompt but can be read separately?? I guess?? The rundown is that Link left years ago to search for his fairy and never returned. Zelda tried not to lose hope. He made her a promise, after all.

Ocarina of Time, child timeline?? Idk how the timelines work y’all please

Zelink-mas 2020  l  Masterlist 

“Your gown is ready, your highness.”

“Thank you,” Zelda answered, nodding in the direction of her lady-in-waiting. “I’ll be there shortly.”

When the door shut behind her, the princess turned her gaze back to the long dried flower. She set it carefully onto the page with the others and slowly closed the book, ensuring no petals or leaves crumbled in the process. The book was placed back on the shelf, right next to the Ocarina of Time and a dust-covered medal imprinted with the crest of Hyrule. She had no time to gaze at the reminders of her childhood this afternoon, because there was beckoning from all directions that insisted on getting her ready in time.

Zelda stepped through the doors of the washroom, where she was pleasantly surprised to see the water was still warm. A wash of her hair and a soap of lavender scent would treat her well and be pleasant to anyone in close proximity. She could not deny her maidens the credit--they always went above and beyond to make sure she was presentable in every fashion. A grand event called for twice the effort, so the princess sat without complaint in her robe as they brushed gentle powders over her face. 

“Are you excited, Princess?” asked a maiden as she painted a color onto Zelda’s closed eyelids. “I hear there are princes from outside of Hyrule coming to get a glimpse of you.”

“Oh, is that so? I hope one takes a liking to you, Elizabeth,” she replied, folding her hands in her lap. “You would fare well with royalty.”

“You’re too kind,” Elizabeth said, and Zelda could hear the blush on her cheeks. “No man would notice me.”

“Hold yourself high,” Zelda encouraged as she pried her eyes open. “Everyone is deserving of love and happiness.”

“Do you hope to find love tonight?” asked the maiden behind her, who was busy twisting her hair into an elegant knot. 

“I believe that whatever is fated will happen in time. If that time is tonight, then so be it.” It was a far better answer than telling them she had found love long ago and had no intentions of finding it again. 

Zelda could hardly blame the maidens for their excited chatter and shared whispers. She pretended not to notice them, because their one form of entertainment was to gossip. Anyone who gossiped with ill intention was not worth troubling herself with, and while they were far from it, she didn’t pay any mind to them. It was not her business what anyone said about her, or about the anticipated guests, or about themselves. She had other matters to concern herself with.

An hour had passed by, and she was finally permitted to stand from the chair and move to the next room. A silken slip hugged her form and protected her skin from the rough edges of the corset. There weren’t many layers, but she was still grateful for the design of the dress. 

It was a soft pink, a color to match the rose on her cheeks and paint on her lips. The skirt consisted of multiple layers that ruffled out into a pattern at the bottom. There were lace and glittering jewels sewed onto the bodice that caught the light. The neck cut low, but not low enough to be anything but modest. The top of her sleeves were rather poufy and the rest poured off in pink streams, but they were transparent and light. It fit her well.

The crown on her head, golden and sparkling with precious rubies made her look like a blossoming queen. She would turn heads tonight, more so than usual, and it was all thanks to her dressmaker and maidens. But she was already exhausted, and the ball hadn’t even begun. 

Yet she was being escorted through the halls of the castle and steered towards the ballroom, which was already filling up with people. She could see that the maidens were right--there were people from everywhere, even outside of Hyrule. She wondered just how many suitors her father had contacted.

She supposed she would find out shortly, because her father had gathered the attention of the crowd and was now introducing her. With no more room to run, Zelda stepped out from the archway and down the stairs. The king took her hands and pulled her in for a kiss, and she had to fight back a smile.

“I’m not married yet, father,” she said, reaching up a hand to brush away a tear from his cheek.

“No,” he agreed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You really do look like your mother.”

“So I’ve heard,” she replied with a laugh. “It’s not too late to call them off. I could refuse to marry, stay with you.”

It was the king’s turn to laugh as he leaned his forehead to hers.

“Go,” he urged. 

She pulled her hands free and pressed a kiss to his cheek before gathering her skirts and descending into the crowd. Various diplomats were on her immediately, greeting her and complimenting her and talking her into a frenzy about their own nations and accomplishments, no doubt trying to impress her. All she could do was smile and nod and pretend she was interested until another person came along to sweep her away.

“My father owns quite the bit of land,” a lord whose name she’d forgotten boasted as he twirled her across the floor. “It could be an advantage for both kingdoms.”

“Yes,” Zelda agreed, but she didn’t voice her knowledge of where this was going. The kingdoms were far enough apart that they’d try to force her to move and give up the rule of Hyrule--which was not an option as far as she was concerned. So when the next person cut in for a dance, she was more than willing to switch partners.

“I hear Hyrule has been at the edge of not one, but two civil wars within the past century. I have no room to suggest anything, but I can offer some tactics that would help convince the provinces to obey,” said a prince from a nation she’d never heard of. 

“Hyrule has managed quite well on our own,” Zelda replied, fighting to keep the bite out of her voice. “But thank you. Should we need assistance again, we will be sure to reach out.”

“My father believes in discipline. That’s the only way to make a child listen,” continued the prince, as if he hadn’t heard a word she said.

“I’ve found that competent parents can make do without the use of force,” she stated simply and used a passing server with a tray of wine to make her escape. She was not technically of age to be drinking, but no one knew that as far as she was aware, and if the night was going to continue like this, then a glass or two wouldn’t hurt.

She was happy to find the wine dry but sweet, and she recognized the danger of something so tasty. While a duke rambled away to her, she reluctantly reduced her number of glasses to one for the night. The last thing she needed was for these men to think she was under any sort of influence.

When she was granted a moment to herself again, Zelda ducked further into the crowd until she found someone familiar to her. Nabooru, the not-so-new Gerudo chief, was in attendance, dressed in glittering Gerudo jewels.

“Princess,” greeted Nabooru with her arms open for a hug. “You look as lovely as a rose.”

“It’s lovely to see you again. How is Gerudo Valley fairing?” Zelda asked, taking caution not to spill her drink during the hug.

“Very well, thanks to you. The funds your father lent us were enough to not only build a proper town, but to conduct repairs to the Desert Colossus. With Impa’s consistent transport of food and resources, we’ve managed to turn ourselves around.”

“It does no good to dwell on the past. We can only own up to our mistakes and move forwards from here. Had it not been for our mistreatment of the Gerudo in the first place, Ganondorf would never have felt the need to avenge the pride lost in the civil war.”

“Lighten up, kid,” Nabooru said with a grin. “Things are looking up. Have you found a suitor to your liking yet?”

“Hardly,” Zelda replied, leaning closer as she lowered her voice. “The men I’ve spoken to so far are so full of arrogance and a lust for power.”

“That’s men for you,” Nabooru answered as she took a seat at a table. Zelda smiled and slid into the seat across from her, setting her glass down on the white tablecloth. “Don’t let any of them fool you. Ganondorf had a winning smile and the charm of a king, but look what he truly turned out to be.”

“For all of your skill and beauty, I cannot believe you settled for him.”

“Hey, Gerudo men are in very limited supply. When you’re a naïve girl, a powerful man giving you attention is enough to cloud your mind. I’m happy you’re able to see through that.”

“I would offer to marry you if you were younger,” Zelda joked as she picked up her wine to take another sip. “If any of your warriors are available and interested, I’d be more than happy to comply.”

Nabooru laughed.

“It’s going that badly, huh?” 

“I’ve danced with at least eight men so far tonight, and I think three of them were named ‘Edward’,” Zelda whispered with a laugh of her own. 

“I don’t think you’re one to talk, Princess. Which ‘Zelda’ are you again? The thirtieth? The forty-seventh?”

Zelda rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t reply because it would seem her time was up. There was a prince who spoke from besides her with an “I’m sorry to interrupt” (oh, he’d better be) and a request to dance.

“Find your prince charming,” Nabooru said, waving Zelda away with her hand. The princess gave her friend a playful glare as she took the prince’s hand and was pulled back towards the center of the ballroom.

“Might I ask who requested my hand in dance?” she asked with a polite smile. Now that she was closer, this prince seemed younger than her. Not by much, but by enough for her to be a little taller than him.

“My name is Prince Henry of the Liles Empire, just off the north coast of Hyrule,” he replied. “It’s a pleasure to see your beauty up close.”

“Likewise,” she said, though she hardly meant it. He was not bad on the eyes, but those who approached her with comments on her appearance struck her as vain and, well, in it for just that. She could be reading them wrong of course, but she’d learned how to navigate her instincts and properly react after Ganondorf’s plan had been thwarted. 

“If I’m being honest, I do not know how to hold a proper conversation with a lady such as yourself,” stated Henry as he led them in a circle. 

“I could not tell,” she replied with a patient and gentle smile. 

“My mother convinced me to ask you to dance. She believes an alliance would benefit our kingdoms.”

“A smart lady. Many of the others here tonight have said the same thing.”

“I don’t want to marry, though. You’re beautiful and kind, but I..” 

Zelda gave the poor boy’s hand a squeeze. She knew his position quite well, if she was reading him correctly. All people had their secrets and anxieties. She would likely never see him again, so she felt she could be his peace, even if only for a moment.

“It’s an unpleasant position to be in,” she supplied, twirling him in the direction of a smaller crowd.

“It is. I couldn’t force myself to love anyone else.”

“Oh? Do you have someone in mind?” 

A blush crossed the young boy’s face, but he looked eager to tell someone. He was the first of the night not interested in her or her land, so she was more than happy to indulge him.

“A kitchen girl back in my kingdom. She came to deliver breakfast one day when my servant fell ill and spilled tea on me.”

“Ah, a fairytale meeting,” Zelda replied with a small laugh.

“She’s beautiful. But my parents would never hear of it.”

“Stay true to your heart. I was always told that those fated to be together will find each other in time. To those who won’t agree, I say if you aren’t happy, how could you ever be expected to make a kingdom happy?

“They told me you were wise, but you speak as if you know the pain yourself.”

Zelda offered a sad smile. Perhaps one glass had been too many, because she was about to bare her soul to this young prince she’d met only minutes ago.

“I love a boy from my childhood,” she told him, cracking open old scars. “A little boy from the forest who helped me catch a tyrant. He disappeared years ago and no one has seen him since.”

“I’m sorry, Princess.”

“If I may offer advice, Prince Henry, tell your kitchen girl properly that you love her. But take care of your heart. It’s the only one you have.”

She tried to spend as much time around Prince Henry as possible. She found him pleasant company and he could be quite silly, but after an hour, the young prince could no longer keep the other suitors at bay. She was whisked away again, and she was growing very tired. 

Her feet were sore in her heels, and her corset felt tighter with every tick closer to midnight. Yet she wasn’t dismissed yet, and she was determined to make it through this. No one could say she hadn’t tried.

Zelda searched the crowd for Nabooru again, longing for another conversation with a competent person, but she’d hardly taken two steps before another voice interrupted her.

“Princess Zelda, might I request a dance?”

She held back a sigh and plastered yet another polite smile on her lips as she turned, but she was not a good enough actor to keep it from slipping away. Her eyes widened and she took a step back, because she was convinced for a moment that she was dreaming.

His eyes were a striking blue, a color she’d accustomed herself with long ago. His smile was charming instead of crooked, but his dimples were just the same. He was taller now and he lacked the forest color he once ran around in, but something about him told her he hadn’t changed that much at all.

“Link..?” she whispered out, then clamped her hands over her mouth like she was afraid of someone hearing her. A breeze slipped past them when a couple whizzed by, but that wasn’t why she was trembling.

“I realize I’m six years late, and I apologize,” he replied, his cheeks reddening with shame. “But I made a promise to you, and I couldn’t bear to break it.”

“You..” For all of her wise words throughout the night, she found it very hard to speak. She took a hesitant step forward, then lifted her hand. Her fingertips brushed over his cheek and once she knew he was solid, she pressed her palm against his skin. He was warm beneath her touch. Warm enough to feel alive. “Is it really you..?”

“Yes,” he answered, his voice soft and filled with more emotion than she’d ever heard it before. He placed his hand over her own, making her skin burn under his touch, but she couldn’t pull away.

For a moment, all she could do was look at him. She looked at his eyes, took in his face and his features, and tried to blink the stinging away. 

Perhaps the whole ballroom was watching, but Zelda dropped her hand and instead wrapped her arms wordlessly around his shoulders. She buried her face in his neck and squeezed her eyes shut as the first of the sobs escaped her. His arms circled around her waist and held her close, but it did nothing to stop the trembling. He was not the child she hugged all those years ago, but he still felt so familiar.

“Can.. can we go-“ She couldn’t finish her question.

She was aware of the scene she was making, and she didn’t want to embarrass her father any further, so she bit back another sob and kept her head down as Link led her out of the ballroom and onto a nearby balcony. The fresh air was icy on her skin and wet cheeks, but he took her face so gently into his hands that she felt like she would melt.

“I missed you,” he spoke. It was no louder than a whisper, but it reached volumes that deafened her to everything else. All she could do was hug him tight and cry harder.

“Goddesses, Link, I— where did you go?” she asked when she caught her breath again.

“Termina,” he replied. “I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but they needed help.”

She’d never heard of it before, but she didn’t care because he was here. 

“I thought.. I didn’t know if you were even alive.” But her love for adventure hadn’t changed and she sat him on a bench as she demanded, “Tell me everything.”

And so he did. He told her of the troublesome Skullkid and the malevolent mask. He told her of the overhanging moon that threatened to fall, and of the trials he had to overcome. He told her of the masks he collected and of the god he had to fight. And Zelda’s heart ached for her hero who could not catch a break. Trauma followed him everywhere he went, and he hadn’t even found Navi. 

“Link.. I’m so sorry,” she said, gripping his hands tighter. “You’ve gone through so much..”

“It’s over,” he assured her. “Or at least, I hope.”

“I couldn’t imagine. I’m so happy you’re safe. Oh, you’ve grown so much..”

“And you look every bit the princess you were always meant to be.”

Zelda laughed, bubbly and weak, and buried her face in her hands.

“Goddesses, I missed you,” she murmured and wiped at her eyes. How he could still call her beautiful when she looked a mess, she didn’t know. 

“I made a pinky promise. Besides, I recall you telling me you’d be very mad at me if I didn’t come back and I don’t think I could live with that.” 

She lifted her head and sniffled.

“Well, you certainly took your time,” she joked and brushed some hair from his eyes.

“I hope this can make up for it.” Link pulled a box from his pocket and carefully pried it open. A sparkling blue jewel in the shape of a teardrop hung from a silver chain. It was almost glowing against the black velvet cushion.

“It’s lovely,” she breathed, running her fingers gently over the stone.

“It’s a Moon’s Tear,” he explained as he lifted it from the box. 

“From the falling moon?” she asked. Link gestured for her to turn around, so she shifted on the bench and set her back to him. 

“Clever girl,” he replied. She could practically hear the smile on his face.

The jewel was cold against her skin, but Link’s fingertips brushing the back of her neck as he clamped the necklace is what made her shiver. 

“You’re quite ridiculous, I hope you know that,” she said as she turned to face him again.

“It’s no ring,” he answered and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “But I hope it’ll do.”

Zelda blinked in confusion, fiddling with the Moon’s Tear as she watched him gather his thoughts.

“A ring?” she asked quietly.

“I.. promised to marry you when I got back. You’re perfectly allowed to decline, of course. I wouldn’t— I mean-.. is this weird?”

Her cheeks burned as she burst into a fit of giggles, pressing a hand over her mouth to muffle them. Link looked at her, flushed with embarrassment, and soon he was laughing too. The innocent promise of two children had lasted over years of distance, even if it was more of humor than anything else now that they were older. She leaned into him, holding her stomach as her muscles grew tighter. Goddesses, she missed his laugh so much. Six long years were not enough to change him at all. 

When their laughter quieted, Zelda lifted her head and took his face into her hands. He smiled at her, sending her head spinning.

“I wasn’t sure you’d ever return,” she whispered as she ran her thumbs along his cheekbones, relishing in his warmth and presence. The thought crossed her mind that perhaps she was being too forward—she just got him back and would rather not lose him again. So she reluctantly pulled her hands back to herself and fiddled with the necklace again.

“There were times I didn’t think I would,” he admitted. With the stories he recounted, she believed him. And she was beginning to understand the Princess’s decision to send him back in time in the first place. But it didn’t seem like he was fated to have an easy existence. 

“I’m sorry your search was in vain.” And even that wasn’t enough, but what could she offer him? What words could she say to him that could quell the sadness running deep in his veins, betrayed by his eyes despite how happy he looked to be back. For all the wisdom she held in her blood, she knew no answer. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Link softly, turning his gaze on her. The more she looked at him, the harder it was to maintain the poise she’d so very recently returned her hold on. So she looked away with a small smile and tilted her head to gaze up at the stars. 

“What would you say?” she asked, tracing the constellations painting the sky with her eyes. A thousand stories came with those stars, stories about their past and their future, stories about fate and things beyond their understanding. She always felt that the stars knew and could see everything, and hiding was a naïve comfort they were never really granted. Even when they were children, throwing themselves under a blanket and giggling, the stars could see everything--even the secrets they didn’t truly have. They had known all along what would become of her and of the Hero of Time. She didn’t know if she pitied the stars or envied them.

“I would say anything that leads me back to you is more than worth it.”

Zelda turned her eyes to him, where she found nothing but sincerity and a tired smile. She could remember a childish curiosity whenever he looked at her, but she couldn’t quite name the gaze his eyes held now. Heat blossomed over her cheeks again and with a laugh, she ducked her head.

“Welcome home, Hero,” she said as she shook her head. “I hope you’re able to find the life of peace you deserve.”

“To be honest, Princess, I think a life of peace would drive me to the brink of sanity. I didn’t return with the hopes of finding it. I don’t… I don’t think I’d even want it.”

There was no hiding the mix of confusion and surprise and concern that took over her features upon hearing his words. A life of peace did not interest him? She wondered for a moment whether he was already past the threshold of sanity, or if he’d simply left his mind in Termina.

“Then,” she began, treading lightly over what could possibly be dangerous waters, “what is it that you want?”

“I want a life by your side.” His cheeks were as pink as hers under the moonlight, but it could very well have been just an effect of the bitter cold. “I know we’re not kids anymore and.. and a lot has changed. But if I could be even just in your service, I would be satisfied.”

“You owe nothing more to Hyrule,” Zelda spoke quickly, taking back all sense of personal space as she held his cheek again. “You’ve done more for us than we could ever begin to thank you for. You reap scars and trauma we can’t even begin to imagine. We are happy to have you back, of course, but you needn’t swear your life to any more trouble, Link.”

“Serving you would be of no trouble at all, Princess.” His hands wrapped gently around hers, pulling it from his skin, and he brought her knuckles to his lips instead. His warm breath fanned over her skin and for the first time of the evening, she did not regret the gloveless design of her outfit.

She could hear her own words, hypocritical and laughable, pouring from her lips when she told little Prince Henry to follow his heart and to hell with those who disagreed. It was much harder to take her own advice--like it was a bitter medicine that brought her heart into her throat and made her tremble. But all she could see was the little forest boy giving her one last wave, so much alike with the man who sat before her now. Her heart lurched.

“I love you,” she said, hardly louder than the gentle breeze that circled them. “And I know that I’m not your Zelda--the Zelda you first defended Hyrule for-”

“You are every bit the same Zelda. The only difference is this time, we don’t have to say goodbye. Not if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t,” she begged, gripping his hands tighter.

“Then let me stay with you.” 

He freed a hand and cradled her face. She leaned into his touch, into the warmth that batted away the cold, into the feeling that he really was here. And then he was leaning forwards, his breath fanning over her lips, and she closed the space between them with an eagerness that Impa would refer to as “unladylike”. His lips were soft and their kiss was slow and gentle, fanning a spark so that it blazed into a flame. In the years she had spent imagining how this reunion might go, she never quite got the magic of it right. It felt strong and peaceful, like something old and practiced but new and exciting all at once. And when they parted, Zelda was quick to recall that silly little promise.

“You meant to ask for knighthood,” she stated, a giddy feeling flooding her at the idea. “But how would you feel about prince consort?”

It was Link’s turn to laugh, and she laughed too as she closed a hand around the Moon’s Tear necklace glowing against her skin. Of course, they had a while to catch up on before any official announcement could be made. They were not granted the opportunity to grow into their relationship, and now was a better time than any to get started. 

Her Hero had returned, and Zelda quite liked the idea of never having to face any of the men who tried to win her hand ever again. Apparently, it was made evident enough by their return to the ballroom floor. 

Link had asked for a dance, after all. Who was she to deny him after so long?

[rosy-wooyoung]

Husband series [2/8] | Seonghwa

Word count: 3.8k Pairing: ex-husband! Yunho x single mom! reader x boyfriend! Seonghwa Genre: mostly fluff, kinda cliché af?? A/N: Second work out of the eight that I’m not really proud of... as usual, the gif doesn’t have anything to do with the fic :’)

You sighed as you looked for your child in the store, worryingly pushing strands of hair out of your eyes. Two minutes of inattention were enough for him to walk away, carelessly wandering around the shop. He was still quite young, but he was able to walk without your help, freeing him from any restraint.

“How could we lose him?” your boyfriend Seonghwa exclaimed as he looked around him, brows knitted. You were on the verge of tears and abandoned the trolley in a corner. Seonghwa gently caressed your back as you started searching for your son again.

“Minwoo? Minwoo, baby, where are you?” you said louder, starting to imagine the worst-case scenarios that could have happened to your son. You hurriedly trotted through the store, earning side glances from the rest of the shoppers, sometimes meeting Seonghwa at the end of an alley, only to find him alone. Your son was the most precious thing you had in your life and you couldn’t see yourself without him. It didn’t matter if you lost your boyfriend, you had already lost your husband by the past, but you’d kill to keep Minwoo by your side. You neared the fish counter and noticed a small boy next to two tall men, who were showing him the living sea animals in the huge tanks next to the fridges. You recognised the dark blue jacket your mom knitted for Minwoo and felt a weight flying away from your chest. However, you didn’t recognise the men next to him, so you ran towards your son.

“Minwoo!” you almost screamed and rushed to your son, grabbing him from behind, not paying attention to the men next to your son. “How many times did I tell you not to leave my side when we grocery shop! We were worried about you with Seonghwa!” you said in one breath, your hand cradling his head on your shoulder. “But Daddy,” you heard your son said and you froze. “What do you mean, “Daddy”?” Minwoo looked up from your shoulder and you recoiled as he pointed to one of the men. The man you didn’t recognise was none other than your ex-husband, Yunho, accompanied by Mingi, his best friend. After seeing his face, you noticed that he hadn’t changed, even after years of divorce. His hair was a bit shorter, but his facial features were the same as when you parted ways. He was wearing a suit and tie, an embarrassed smile drawn on his face. Your eyes widened when Minwoo made grabby hands at him, happy to meet his dad. “Hi Y/N,” Yunho managed to say, rubbing his neck, “I didn’t expect to meet you there,” you clenched your teeth and awkwardly smiled, not really knowing what to say. “Ah, Y/N, you found him,” you pursed your lips and closed your eyes as your boyfriend arrived, ready to take you and your son in his arms. He took a step back when he noticed Yunho and Mingi. Minwoo, who was in your arms, did everything to touch his father. Mingi, behind the two of you, took a step back and waited a bit further away to clear things out. He knew your situation since he was also a good friend of yours, your divorce preventing you from hanging out with him.

“What’s happening here?” Seonghwa said and none of you answered. You stared at Seonghwa, feeling sorry that he had to witness this awkward encounter. You could see his brain working, his eyes going from you to Minwoo, then to Yunho and his eyes widened when everything clicked in his head. For some reasons, you couldn’t talk, and the three men around you noticed that. You were frozen on the spot. Yunho cleared his throat and extended his hand towards your boyfriend. “I’m Yunho, Y/N’s ex-husband and… Minwoo’s father and, that’s Mingi, a good friend of mine,” he said, gesturing to Mingi, who nodded with a dull face. “I believe that you’re her new partner?” Seonghwa shook his hand without a word, his eyes never leaving your ashamed ones. He detached his eyes from you and looked at your ex, shaking his hand with such force that his digits turned white. “Exactly, I’m Seonghwa,” He said and his eyes darkened, suddenly remembering the reason why you divorced.

Of course, you had told him by the past the reason why you parted ways with your ex-husband, and he was mad. He was mad that your husband acted like a complete coward, scared of his parents. Yunho was someone from the high class. His parents owned an immensely powerful company and he fell in love with you the minute he saw you entering one of his parents’ restaurants. It was a place that your friends didn’t usually go to, but she wanted to celebrate your well-deserved promotion and went there, lucky to find a free table at rush hour. He immediately introduced himself as the son of the restaurant’s owner. Your friends were impressed, you were quite too, but you didn’t show it. You treated him like an ordinary person, with respect, but you didn’t admire or glorify him as your friends did. You beamed and nodded at his jokes, making him feel weird not to have everyone laughing and smiling like everyone did when he was around. He found you hard to get and Yunho loved challenges. At the end of your meal, he boldly asked for your number and you gave it to him without really thinking about it. However, when he was in private, he was way calmer but still very flirty, charming you with his sweet words and actions you exchanged until your first date.

After two years of life together, he introduced you to his parents and it was one of the worst nights you’ve ever had. You put a lot of efforts for your appearance, going to the hair and nail salon, buying an expensive, chic dress with heels. You almost chickened out at last minute but Yunho comforted you and you walked out of his car. But now, in hindsight, you shouldn’t have ever entered this mansion. The dinner was tense, even Yunho could sense it. His parents made zero effort to welcome you in their family, both of them shook your hands with such strength that it made you whine when they turned around. You kept your head high the entire dinner even if they put you down, subtly telling their son that you weren’t good enough for him. They even suggested in front of you that he should get married to someone richer and more influential. You swallowed your pride and feelings when you were in front of them, but you let everything out as soon as you entered your home. Yunho apologised for his parents’ behaviour but it didn’t make you feel better. The only thing you wanted to do was breaking up with him and get away as fast as possible from the two sharks that were his parents. Yunho begged you to stay and promised that he’d make everything to keep your relationship alive. And you believed him.

After months of struggle and rebellion, his parents reluctantly let him date you. On the other side, your parents were happy and proud that you were with Yunho, even if his parents were mean to you. It was sounded better to have their daughter dating a son from a rich company than being happy with someone from your social class. Sadly, showing off was something really important for your parents. They were even happier when Yunho proposed to you during one of your trips abroad. You had said yes without really thinking about the consequences with his parents, and it created many, many problems. You had to hide the ring every time your future mother-in-law randomly paid a visit to her son’s house. One night, she was there and Yunho was about to enter the house, but you pretended to go grab a bottle of wine from the cellar, grabbing Yunho by his tie and pulling him here. Yunho was thinking about something else as you untied his tie knot and unclasped his thin golden chain, your promised ring hung from it. You took off your ring from your finger and hid it behind a wine bottle, grabbing another one as you quietly explained the situation to your future husband. He nodded as he redid his tie, acting as you ran into him as you went out of the cellar in front of his mother.

One night, seeing your distress, Yunho offered you to marry him in secret. You were very against it at the beginning, worried about his parents and their power, but he promised to make everything work. He invited only your family and your closest friends and celebrated this wonderful day in a small group. You were a bit anxious to see his parents show up unannounced, but fortunately, they didn’t. 

One day, as you slid your key into the slot, you realised that the door was unlocked. You first thought of housebreaking since Yunho’s house was big and filled with different kind of luxury items, silently making your way to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Someone was upstairs and rummaging through yours and Yunho’s stuff. You instantly sent a text to Yunho about the current situation and took off your shoes, easier for you to climb up the stairs without making any noise. Through the poorly closed door, you recognised his mother, raging mad, searching through everything. You hid the knife in the bathroom next to you, scared that she might kill you when she’ll find out the truth. When she saw you, she yelled, hurriedly pacing towards you. 

“You filthy bitch!” she said as she went to grab your blazer, but you pushed her away, feeling the rage boiling in your body as well. “What is wrong with you, what do you want?” you yelled back, making eye contact with her. “How can you enter your son’s house like a burglar?” “Oh,” she exclaimed, eyes shooting bolt lighting towards you, “you dare to call me a burglar when you are the biggest gold-digger out of all my son's girlfriends? You’re only dating him for his money, his fame and power we have in the city. I won’t let you ruin our reputation by dating and marrying my son! A silly cow like you doesn’t deserve to get a taste of luxury,” her behaviour truly shocked you, each word spilling out of her mouth sending daggers to your heart and pride. You gulped and started to walk back, noticing every item around her that could serve as a weapon. “Now, where do you hide it?” she spat and furrowed your brows. What was she talking about? “The ring, you bloody foul, where do you hide it, hm? You can’t deny anything, I found the wedding ring bill in Yunho’s desk drawer. Tell me where it is!!” she screamed, and you thought that she was going mad. You clearly didn’t want to fight or hurt her, knowing that she’d take you to court for your acts, so you avoided her as much as possible. Hoping that Yunho would come soon, you heavily inhaled and remained silent. “I’m going to ruin your life if you don’t tell me where it is.” “Mom!” Yunho yelled from downstairs and came up in a blink, shielding you from his mother with his body. “Get out of my way, son.” She said through gritted teeth but Yunho didn’t move. “Get out of my house first. How dare you coming in like a robber?!” he forced her to walk down the stairs by pushing her with his body, and you shivered when she looked at you. She squinted her eyes and pointed her finger towards you. “You,” she whispered, ignoring her son, “don’t think that you’ve won. You don’t know me, I’ll fucking destroy you.” Yunho pushed his mom out of the house, closing the door and locking it.

Three months after this incident, you discovered that you were pregnant with Minwoo. You were happy but his parents were the only fly in the ointment. During the time of your pregnancy, Yunho and you decided to live in a smaller house in the countryside, an unknown place for his parents. Yunho worked from home as much as he could and so did you, your maternity leave coming way sooner than you expected it. Those nine months flew by and you almost felt like breathing again, without being constantly feared that his parents would show up. You even had nightmares of it at the beginning of your pregnancy, but Yunho was here to protect you. However, a week before the scheduled birth date, you went back to your house and Yunho changed the door locks, preventing his parents from breaking in as his mother did. 

A night where you were alone, Yunho paying a visit to his parents, labour had just begun, your waters just broke. It was very painful, yet you managed to call your husband to announce him the news. Yunho was stuck, he couldn’t leave his parents so suddenly without arousing suspicions about your pregnancy. He excused himself from his parents, but they didn’t let him go so easily and you started screaming in pain in the phone, his mother instantly understanding everything. She grabbed her son’s phone from his hand and threw the cellular on the floor. You were still on the line, but you were starting to be weak, not able to call for Yunho anymore. You were about to hang up to call someone else, but you heard his mother’s words.

“You divorce with this witch immediately or we’re disowning you. I’m calling our lawyer.” You hung up and called Mingi, knowing that he’d help while Yunho fixed the situation with his parents. His friend was terrified and concerned, but he managed to drive you to the hospital before you gave birth. Before falling asleep from exhaustion with your newborn son on your chest, you begged Mingi to look after you and he promised, allowing you to rest.

Yunho never came to see you. You learnt from a nurse that he still came and signed the birth certificate, but he never came to see you and his child that you carried for nine months. Mingi and his mother came to visit, taking care of you like her own daughter-in-law. They understood you because they weren’t the same as Yunho’s family, Mingi's parents worked hard to allow their son to work in this company, yet they were still mad that Yunho never came to visit. Once you could get out of the hospital (you had to stay a few more days because the doctors found that you were exhausted and dehydrated), Mingi and his mom took care of Minwoo while you drove back to Yunho’s house. When you entered the house, you had to lean against the doorway when you saw boxes filled with your clothes and other belongings.

“Yunho?” you called with a small voice, eyes filling with tears. You heard footsteps coming from upstairs and the tall man appeared, tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. He ran downstairs with a devastated face. “I’m so sorry Y/N,” he said, and you shook your head, understanding that it was too late. You swallowed and refused Yunho’s embrace, starting to drag the boxes outside, putting the maximum in the trunk of your car. In less than a month, you were homeless, a mother and divorced. When you closed the car trunk, you sighed and Yunho grabbed your wrist. He placed a set of keys linked to a tag, an address messily written on it. “I bought this apartment for you, I’ll come to visit when the situation will quiet down a bit.” He closed your palm on the key and you opened his other palm, putting your wedding ring in it. “Thank you, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t risk my life, Minwoo’s and yours just because of your parents. I’ll put the keys of this apartment in the mailbox once I’ll find something else I can afford.” You said as you cried, starting to walk to the driver seat. “Please Y/N,” “No Yunho, we can’t. I can’t do it anymore. You didn’t even come to see me and our child. You didn't even ask why he's not with me right now. Everything stopped here for me. Our years of relationship, our marriage, it all ended. Thank you for the wonderful memories but it’s over. And deep down, you know that it’s already over, your parents probably forced you to sign the papers anyway. Goodbye Yunho.”

He sent you one last text that night, telling you that he was sorry and that they sent him in America, for “business matters” and it was the last time you heard from him. It took you months to move on and start again. You had found a place to stay which was smaller but closer to your workplace, a day-care centre only a block away from your apartment. Minwoo grew up and started asking for his father and you quietly explained to him why he didn’t have a father. You kept a picture of the two of you framed next to the door, showing it to your son every time he asked for his father. At first, he cried, but he slowly understood that you were still loving him and trying your best even if you couldn’t give him a father. You had also tried to date again, but you were so worried about your son in day-care that you never enjoyed any of them. It was hard to be a single mom, feeling worthless and unlovable each time you came home from an unsuccessful date. You knew that your son loved you, but it wasn't comparable to the love you could get from a caring man.

Since your work was closer, you privileged the public transports over the car. You entered the bus and your son suddenly started crying for no apparent reason. You tried to feed him, give him his cuddly toy, but nothing changed, he was crying at the top of his lungs. You were so embarrassed that you barely looked up, profoundly apologising to everyone around you, nearly in tears due to exhaustion and shame. The man in front of you looked around your age and his gaze on your son was tender. He tried to catch your son’s attention by grabbing his plushie, waving it in front of his face, the cries slowly fading as the man in front of you portrayed a funny sweet voice while talking to your son through his toy. Minwoo was now mesmerised by his talking plushie, laughing, and hugging it close to him while looking at the man in front of you. You rested your head against the window, and you sighed along with a few other people around you, relieved that your son had stopped crying.

“Thank you so much,” you said to the young man and he smiled. “It’s nothing, I couldn’t let this little man embarrass his mother,” he chuckled, and you started talking to each other until you had to get off the bus. He was named Seonghwa, and came with you to your workplace, distracting Minwoo from crying. You thanked him again and went to work, feeling more peaceful. Meeting Seonghwa on the bus had become your daily routine. He was an interesting and smart man, bringing you entertained until your stop, looking forward each time to see him the next day. Bus rides turned into dates, smiles turned into kisses, closeness turned into caresses and tenderness. You fell in love with him, hard, and you were scared, but he reassured you. You had almost forgotten your ex-husband and his tormenting family, hoping to never see them again. You were doing well. Until tonight.

You cannot lie, Yunho looked happy and surprised to see his son for the first time, but Seonghwa didn’t agree. You noticed the two men menacingly stare at each other and the atmosphere was tense. You couldn’t let them start a fight in the middle of the shop, so you grabbed Seonghwa’s hand, quickly bidding goodbye to your ex-husband, as well as Mingi and left the fish counter as quickly as possible. Once everything was in the car trunk, you sat Minwoo in his seat and went to the passenger seat, Seonghwa waiting for you to go home. You took big breaths during the journey home, expecting your boyfriend to leave you or not talk to you for a while. Why did you have to run into your ex-husband when you were with him? Why did it have to happen? You got out of the car as soon as it stopped in the driveway, taking in a big bowl of fresh air. You shook your head in defeat and opened the car door, unfastening your son’s seatbelt, carefully carrying him to your apartment and put him to bed. Seonghwa was tidying the grocery around the kitchen when you came downstairs, taking a glass of water along with a pill for headaches. Your boyfriend closed the fridge door and observed you, noticing that you were on the verge of tears. He walked towards you and took you in his arms, shushing you as you quietly cried on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry-” “I know the memories and scars are still vivid, but you need to move on. I saw how sad and upset you looked when we met him, but I won’t let this ungrateful bastard destroy what we built together. You were doing fine so far, we managed to make you forget him and I won’t let you dive back in your sorrow. You’ve been strong for so long, it’s not the time to give up. Do it for your son, for yourself, and for us as a pair. You need me, I need you, Minwoo needs healthy parents and I’m ready to take this role. Forget about this man, I promise that you will be better and healthier without him and his family.” Seonghwa whispered and worked his fingers through your hair, “I wasn’t so sure about bringing up a child who wasn’t mine, but I realised that I love you too much to let you down.” His words made you burst into tears and he shushed you, his fingers working in your hair. “I’m sorry that we had to see him, I swear it wasn’t planned.” You whispered and Seonghwa exhaled at your words, realising how guilty you felt. “No need to swear Y/N, and it’s okay. Let’s forget that for a while, shall we? You look really tired.” Seonghwa kissed your temple and you nodded, letting your boyfriend carry you to your bedroom.

Seonghwa made sure to kiss you on the cheek and dry your wet tears, his arm circling your waist before you both fell asleep in one breath.

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Seventeen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Tagging @anonymouscosmos, @culturalrebel, @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto and @nelba! Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains intense recounts of previous abuse, intense depictions of self-loathing, self-deprecation and brief mentions of depression. Stay safe!]

Cade caught Danse before he could depart after the rest of their unofficial 'war council' had been dismissed, the medical officer inquiring, "How are you coping, Paladin? I hope that your adjustment to your newfound knowledge is going well." The arch of his eyebrow indicated plainly that Cade was looking for a clear answer, possibly to dissuade his own concerns.

  "I am still uncertain, Knight-Captain Cade." Danse stated bluntly. "I know that Quinlan's reports are accurate. I know that I must be a synth. But it is...it's difficult to wrap my head around it."

  "My door is always open, Danse. As it's been since the day you were assigned to the Prydwen." Cade reminded him. "I can't say I've ever had the pleasure of doing a mental evaluation on a synth, but…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "Hmm, that's not quite right. You and I have had sessions before. Maybe synths aren't so different in their cognition. Perhaps this is a nature versus nurture scenario."

  "Perhaps." Danse allowed, but he knew that he sounded less than optimistic.

  "Maybe in a day or two, once everything has calmed down and you've had time to think?" Cade suggested. "Collect your thoughts, then come see me and we can discuss your current state and the repercussions of Maxson's treatment."

  The paladin nodded, relieved that Cade didn't wish to immediately evaluate him. It had been an incredibly stressful and arduous several weeks. More than anything, the paladin was longing to finally get some sleep.

  After he spoke to Haylen and Rhys, of course. They deserved his gratitude, if only for their combined efforts in delivering the tip-off that had literally saved his life. To say nothing of their care for Elizabeth in his absence, even though they were unable to free her. They had kept her alive, and that was more than the paladin had dared to hope for.

  Danse watched Cade depart, his mind miles away now. Backhand would be incredibly busy in the lead up to the assault. He felt almost irritated by that; it was unfair to ask so much of her so soon after what had transpired. But the luxury of time was no longer on their side. Danse understood, in a practical sense, that they needed to strike as fast as possible. It was entirely within reason that the Institute already knew of their plans and were preparing their own countermeasures.

  It still didn't erase the hollow sensation in his gut, the fear that Backhand was all too willing to stretch herself paper-thin for her various factions. He promised himself then and there that he would do his best to absorb some of the burden. 

  As much as she would allow. 

  The memory of her ripping her knuckles apart on the manual release of his armor, talking to Matthew's parents, taking her helmet off and smiling at him. Thank you, Danse or I thought you were dead or please don't do that to me again --

  Danse chewed anxiously on his lower lip. As much as she would allow. As much as he could feasibly handle. It should have felt odd that he was trading one leader for another, but Danse could only rationalize that it must be another portion of his programming. 

  "Paladin Danse, sir?" 

  Rhys . Danse started, turning around. He hadn't even heard the knight approach down the catwalk. Hell, he hadn't even realized he was spacing out in the hallway. "Yes, Knight?" He replied, nodding out of habit to acknowledge Haylen beside Rhys.

  "Elder Brandis said you wanted to see us, sir." The knight stated, sounding a bit hesitant. "He said we needed to discuss...certain things."

  Of course he did . Danse sighed heavily, bracing himself for some level of a disappointment-fueled tirade.

  "Danse, I'm so sorry." Haylen blurted out, her voice shaking. Danse was startled, tilting his head while she carried on, "I wish there had been some other way for me to tell you. You must have been terrified ." 

  "I was certainly confused, if nothing else." The paladin admitted with a wry smile. "I am immensely grateful to both of you, regardless of my own trials. You followed your training and stuck to your guns, and I couldn't be more proud." He deflated slightly. "Even if the pride of a synth means precious little."

  "The synth shit doesn't matter to either of us, sir." Rhys muttered. "We don't care. We're just glad you're back and that Maxson didn't manage to kill you. That's the important part, right?"

  "In a way." Danse agreed, grimacing. "Our battle is far from over, however."

  "Hey, we're doing something. That's more than a lot of people can say." Haylen reasoned, ever the optimist. "I've got faith in whatever plan you guys come up with."

  "Thank you for believing in me." The paladin murmured, giving the only surviving members of Squad Gladius a stiff salute. 

  "We know you, sir. You protected us, trained us. Built us up from basically nothing." Rhys sounded angry, his typically-sullen expression gone even more sour. "You think we could ever turn our backs on you? You're not that stupid."

  Haylen began to protest, "Rhys-"

  "Haylen, you and I both know he'll just self-deprecate until he dissolves. I'm not letting that happen." Rhys grumbled at the scribe, who fell silent at his reasoning. Her eyes were narrowed to slits and the sight was immensely entertaining to Danse, who couldn't keep a nervous chuckle from bubbling up in his throat.

  "I'm certain the two of you are aware of the devastating depression you dragged me out of all those years ago in the Capital Wasteland." Danse clapped Rhys on the shoulder and caught Haylen up in a rare one-armed hug. "How many times will you two save me? Should I start taking you for granted?" 

  "Paladin Danse, sir, w-we…" Haylen trailed off, her lower lip quivering. She buried her face in Danse's ribs and Rhys grunted.

  "Haylen, c'mon . Pull it together." He huffed, his own eyes looking suspiciously wet. "Listen, sir, I think I've made our position pretty clear. We follow your orders. Learning about that shit with Maxson-"

  "I'm so angry! " Haylen interrupted him, glaring upwards. "God Danse, I'm furious . What he did to you is unforgivable, inexcusable." She announced hotly. "Everyone assumed something was going on, but we also assumed it was consensual ."

  " 'Everyone' ?" Danse echoed, a weird surge of retroactive embarrassment seizing his body. "I suppose I should be thankful you all were so willing to offer me the illusion of privacy." He mumbled.

  "He's never coming anywhere near you again, sir." Rhys stated, his jaw set in an angry scowl. "I don't care if he's the last of the Maxson line. I'll break his fucking skull."

  His words stirred Danse's guilt to life, the ugly feeling rearing its head once more. "It is a difficult situation to be in. I do not envy our elders, past or present." Danse tried to pose the sentence with a modicum of compassion, though he was unsure of the attempt's success. The paladin knew that despite Maxson's position of power, Danse bore a majority of the blame for not standing up to the elder until it was too late to prevent his spiral.

  "Difficult, my ass ." Rhys growled under his breath.

  …

  "So we've got Preston, someone by the name of John D., the…" Ingram narrowed her eyes at the readout. " Atom Cats ?"

  "Yep. Real into their power armor. And Zeke owes me a favor." Backhand explained, continuing to scroll through her Pip Boy notes. "If I can get them to walk across the pond and cover the Castle, that will free up more Minutemen to join us."

  "Should I ask how you managed to ingratiate yourself with so many of these people?" 

  "I'm a sucker for a lost cause." Vega answered, her tone dry. 

  Ingram snorted, shaking her head. "Lucky for us, I imagine. Also lucky for us that you're the forgiving sort."

  "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Proctor." Backhand retorted. "I'm just not yet in a position to combat your aerial superiority."

  "Whew, gonna' file that one away for later consideration."

  A soft knock on the comm doorway interrupted the two women, and Vega turned to see Danse peering cautiously into the room. "Paladin! You're just in time, we were about to start rallying the troops. Want to lend a hand?" 

  "What needs to be done, General Vega?" The paladin asked, his posture gone stiff and proper. 

  Backhand could feel her smile dim slightly, but she reined herself in. They had all been through so much, she reasoned, and old habits were usually a comfort. "Well, I've got a few calls to make on my own, but if you can get in touch with Lieutenant Garvey that would be a huge help."

  "Understood." 

  Proctor Ingram (who had been watching their exchange with poorly-veiled interest) stepped out of the way so that Danse could settle down at the desk alongside one of their many radio switchboards. "Vega, I think the two of you can handle this." The older woman remarked, giving Elizabeth a sly wink behind Danse's back. "I'll start whipping the base camp into shape. Make myself useful, y'know. Ad Victoriam."

  Vega went bright red as Ingram saluted, the proctor sporting an absolutely infuriating smirk. "B-But Proctor--"

  "No buts! You guys handle the easy stuff. I'll manage the elbow grease." Ingram then mouthed talk to him! , before strolling out of the comm area. Backhand swore under her breath, thumping her fist into the desk in mute frustration. 

  "I can leave, General Vega." Danse offered, making her start and whirl to face him.

  "No no! No, uh, you're fine. You're not the problem here." Vega assured him, waving her hands nervously. "I'm just...I'm a little uptight, that's all."

  "Will your forces refuse to join us?" The paladin asked, his rigid posture easing slightly as he tipped his head back to look up at her. He continued in an undertone, "Would it be simpler to do it with your troops alone? Do you truly need the Brotherhood?"

  "We do need the Brotherhood, yes. But I don't think we'll need them for the fighting. We'll need them for the mass casualty options and the refugee care after the fact." Backhand began to pace, mostly so she didn't have to maintain eye contact. The paladin looked fatigued yet determined, and it pained her to know that rest was still so far away for them. Rest and the possibility of actually speaking with him about the thing that had been on her mind in one form or another since…

  Well, it had been a long time.

  "We'll need help rebuilding more than anything. Not a lot of settlements will be keen to take on synths, so I'll need to figure out some kind of alternative. I really need to talk with Nick and Dea--er, John D ., and get their input on this whole engagement." Backhand rubbed her temples. "And here I thought getting in would be the hard part!" She tried to joke. 

  After a moment of silence, Vega heard Danse clear his throat. "General... Elizabeth , I know you already have many responsibilities, all of them miles more important than my own struggles."

  Backhand looked over at him expectantly, a little confused. 

  "I have to give Cade a full report." The tall man said abruptly. "I...he wants to know everything that's transpired." He stared down at the floor, the heel of his boot scuffing the grating beneath them as he rushed to add, "I know it's selfish of me to ask you to--I mean, you've been through so much, b-but I was...rather, I am uncertain of this endeavor, and my ability to maintain my composure during it. You tend to have a mollifying effect on me for some reason."

  "You want me to be present when you give your medical officer the full rundown?" Vega raised an eyebrow, further confused. Danse was a soldier , surely he had endured a full physical before?

  "I am overly anxious. It means reliving some portions of my past that I find...traumatic."

  "Oh." Oh . Backhand felt stupid as the truth dawned on her. Everything that's transpired . Of course Danse would want someone he trusted with him, this wasn't a physical exam at all. "What about Haylen or Rhys? Are they more appraised of the situation?"

  Danse was shaking his head before she had even finished. "I did my best to keep everything that happened quiet, though it appears that I was unsuccessful. I was told that was my only option, and I did not wish to disobey Maxson's orders." 

  "That fuckin' asshole." Vega growled. "Alright, if you're sure it's me you want with you, I'm here."

  "You don't have t--er, that is, I regret taking up more of your valuable time, General Vega. I promise after this meeting with Cade, I will be fully at your disposal." He assured her, seemingly pained by his current state.

  "Danse, I don't care about that. I don't want you better just so you can get used up again, I want you better for you . I'm sorry that all of this robs you of the proper time to regroup, y'know?" Backhand apologized, her words deliberately quiet as she boldly laced her fingers through his own. "Once we're done here, though, you need to take some time off. General's orders."

  "I would have to speak with Elder Brandis on the matter. As his most senior paladin, I am unsure if he would be able to permit me that luxury." Danse replied unhappily, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before he released it. "' A run ashore ', always just out of reach."

  "I'm getting you time off, even if I have to kidnap you myself." 

  The paladin's chuckle in reply to her threat was subdued, but it still sent a frisson of happiness through her body. Backhand choked down the guilt of having those feelings in the first place for just a second, choosing to bask in the warm sensation. 

  "When you're ready, General, I'll need the proper frequencies to speak with the Castle." Danse's request brought her crashing back down to earth, and Vega rushed to oblige him.

  There's always something else to do .

  …

  Two days later, on the cusp of their attack on the Institute, the both of them were seated in Knight-Captain Cade's main office aboard the Prydwen. The older officer sat across from them in the cramped space, a clipboard propped up on his knee.

  "The only questions I'll ask will be strictly for clarity's sake." The knight-captain informed Danse quietly. "If you don't want to answer, that is entirely acceptable and within your right, but the more information we have, the better."

  Danse nodded, the motion stilted. "I understand, Knight-Captain. I'll do my best to cooperate." 

  Vega squeezed his hand. God knew she didn't like this one damn bit, but she was going to stick it out for him. After all, he had gone to bat for her against the elder . Loyalty like that was in short supply. "I'm right here with you, Danse." She said softly. He had gone pasty white beneath his usual windblown complexion, and he gripped her hand wordlessly. 

  "If you could start at the beginning, Paladin. Or as close to it as possible." Cade prompted him.

  "Yes, I...of course." Danse rasped. "The first time we engaged was shortly before the Brotherhood lost Knight Cutler."

  Cade looked at him over his half-moon glasses, seeming perturbed. "That was...so this was a prolonged assault."

  "Not an assault. I did as I was ordered." The dull tone of Danse's voice, the way his eyes had gone almost grey ...Vega wanted to know how the hell Maxson had ever justified this. "I could not bring myself to question Arthur. He came to me, at first simply asking for help even though it was an order. He said he couldn't sleep. I...I never told Cutler. I didn't think it was relevant. I thought I was helping the new elder." Danse looked up at Cade. "I know what it's like to not be able to sleep for all the thoughts in your head."

  "Was there a specific point in time where his behavior shifted? Perhaps when it became more clear to you that there was something wrong?" Backhand was grateful for the delicate way Cade phrased the question.

  "I…" Danse's brow furrowed. "...had just come back with...after what transpired with Cutler. Four days on base. I was furious with Maxson for stationing Cutler out there, furious with myself for not saving Cutler. I was grieving and hurt both physically and emotionally, as you recall." Cade inclined his head. "I assume you also recall the bite on my arm that appeared shortly thereafter. That was a...result of my inability to perform."

  "Ah." Cade murmured, jotting something down.

  Bite? Vega could feel Danse trembling. "I-I was...unable to function or perform for him in a satisfactory manner and that was his method of voicing his frustration with me." Danse swallowed hard. "I was mourning , Cade." He sounded like he was begging the other man to understand, begging him not to judge.

  Perform for him. Backhand sucked in a deep breath through her nose, willing herself to stay silent. 

  "After that, I would just comply. It was never as bad as that time. I would perform for him to the best of my abilities." Danse paused, "but I never sought him out, and nothing occurred without me being ordered to do so." He then proceeded to rattle off a distressingly-long list of dates, every time that Maxson had coerced him. "I was not interested in...well, anyone , after Cutler." He muttered after a brief pause, "the term broken seems fitting." 

  "You weren't allowed proper space to heal yourself after what happened with Cutler. You were injured and then forced to deal with someone who kept prying open your wounds because they enjoyed lording their power over you." Cade theorized, his voice a little sharper. " Broken is not fitting in the slightest, Danse."

  The paladin shrugged. "Whatever the terminology might be, then." 

  " Traumatized , Danse. Emotional wounds take time to heal, just like physical ones. Losing Cutler in the way that we did-"

  "I deserved it!" Danse cut off the medical officer, leaning forward and clenching his free hand on his knee. "I failed Cutler, Cade! I should have gone after him sooner! The treatment from Maxson is what I deserved ." His eyes were wild, frantic. "He's an abuser, but I am a man deserving of every last instance of that abuse for my inaction when it came to Cutler!" The paladin reasoned intensely.

  Cade sighed, rifling through his clipboard. "Danse, you did not deserve or garner punishment for the consequences of Maxson's orders." He informed the other man quietly. "You were simply a man who lost someone that he cared deeply about."

  "And to find out that I'm not even that much!" Danse spat. "I'm still trying to cope with the reality that I am a living lie . My identity as Paladin Danse is nothing but a memory now. Everything I held dear, everything I ever believed in is completely gone. Can you imagine how that feels?" Danse was nearly shouting at this point, moving to stand. "I started out as nothing , and I've ended up as nothing . And I don't know what the hell to do about it!" 

  Backhand brought her hand up over his elbow, hauling him back down into his seat. " Listen to Cade, Danse." She growled. The paladin fought her grip briefly, but ultimately slumped in the chair. Good thing too, Vega wasn't exactly up to full strength just yet. The large man was shaking again, his breathing coming in harsh bursts. "It's okay, it's okay." Vega found herself repeating the phrase, rubbing circles on his back between his shoulder blades. Many members of military factions found repetition comforting and Danse appeared to be no exception, the large man heaving a massive sigh under the weight of her hand.

  "Danse, I'll fully admit to being out of my element here. I never expected to have to treat a synth." Knight-Captain Cade said plainly. "However, I've known you for many years. We have an established rapport. Your body is indistinguishable from an ordinary human body, as proved by my records. Your mental processes and pain responses are normal for a human. I suppose what I'm trying to say is learning that you are a synth may not change all that much, despite what you may be feeling."

  Danse choked out a forlorn noise that might have been a sob, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so confused." He confessed plaintively. "You're saying I did not deserve punishment for my failings, but...how else am I supposed to atone for Cutler?" He looked up, tears welling up in his eyes. "How am I supposed to reconcile with these human emotions, Cade? I barely kept myself under control when I believed I was human!"

  "Your feelings have always run deep, Danse. Your empathy for your fellow man has landed you in hot water more than once." Cade gestured at Vega. "According to our infiltrator, even the most brutal of synths feel regret and remorse just like we do, though they have not been taught how to cope with it."

  "I still feel like a human. Nothing feels different, yet now I constantly second-guess everything I do. I've had a plan from the beginning to shape my future, but I have to wonder about whether that's a lie as well." Danse remarked bitterly. "I had...I had hoped…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter."

  Backhand could feel her heart breaking the longer he spoke. His true identity was an immense blow to him, and on top of it he was still struggling under the burden of the guilt he carried due to Cutler's demise. He blamed himself for Arthur's demands. 

  "Listen to Cade, Danse." She urged. Her hand was essentially on autopilot as she traced small patterns on the center of his back, moving up and down his spine without rhyme or reason. "You're not to blame for what Maxson did. It's not yours to bear. Trust me, coming from someone who's more than willing to take on other folk's problems, that weight is not yours."

  "But-"

  "You trust me, right?" Vega interrupted him softly, cupping his face so that he had to look at her.

  "With my life, General Vega." 

  The rapid sincerity of his reply startled her and Backhand needed to take a moment, steeling herself yet again. "I know you trust Cade too, and I know this won't be a quick or easy process. But you accepting that whatever happened was not your fault would be a huge first step."

  "I...If I do…" Danse paused, hesitating. "Vega, if I forget about him..."

  "Hey, nobody said anything about forgetting. You told me about Cutler, about how important he was to you. There's no way someone like you could forget about him. But you need to forgive yourself, you have to understand that losing him was not your fault." Once more she found herself in over her head, but she did her best to tell him all the things she wished someone had told her when Sergeant Cathan had died.

  "He was...he was everything to me." Danse's voice cracked. "And I had to--I had to, he was...I had to."

  "What happened to Cutler and his team was an immense tragedy, and a needless one at that." Cade spoke up from his seat, his brow furrowed. "Maxson outed himself quite thoroughly during the trial, I would say. It will be difficult for him to explain his actions away when so many witnesses heard exactly what he said." 

  Elizabeth felt Danse go still, the paladin hanging on to Cade's every word. "Am I even permitted to be happy that he may face consequences?" He asked uncertainly, wringing his hands. "Is that a breach of protocol, Knight-Captain?"

  The medical officer shifted his weight, leaning forward to prop himself up with his elbows on his knees. "I can't promise you swift justice, you know how the Brotherhood operates. But Arthur invoked the right of a litany trial, then proceeded to break his own terms. To say nothing of the fact that he nearly killed someone uninvolved in the trial." Cade shook his head. "His abuse flourished in secrecy. Now that everything is out in the open, I do not believe even his status as the last Maxson will sway the other elders when they pass judgement."

  "Thank you, Knight-Captain." Danse closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "I...thank you, Vega." He continued, a little quieter. He caught her hand in his own, giving it a cautious squeeze. Almost as if he was imitating her gesture from earlier in the week. "I have so much to think about."

  "Agreed. Shall I put in a request to Brandis for a leave of absence?"

  Danse visibly recoiled at Cade's suggestion, his eyes going wide in dismay. "No! No, I am needed, Knight-Captain. After our assault has been carried out, and the Institute has been wiped from the map, I…" he hesitated, like the words were caught in his throat. "I will gladly take a leave. Until then, however, there is still work to do."

  "There is always work to do, Paladin." Cade chided. "Remember what I told you? You will burn yourself out and the Brotherhood can ill afford to lose you."

  "I'll see to it that he takes time off after our successful operation." Backhand stated firmly. Cade raised an eyebrow at that and Danse flushed across the bridge of his nose, stuttering a little. "Your health is important to me, Danse. You can be as stubborn as you want, but I'm not letting you weasel out of this." 

  "I suppose that will have to do." Cade sighed. "Do you have any questions for me, Paladin?"

  Danse shot a sidelong glance at Vega that she was relatively certain she wasn't supposed to see, the large man worrying his lower lip. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part, though, as Danse shook his head after a moment. "No, I...I just have some reflection to do." He got to his feet abruptly, saluting both Cade and Elizabeth. "Ad Victoriam, Knight-Captain. Ad Victoriam, General Vega."

  Cade returned the salute absently, already absorbed in writing something else down. Vega was a little slower, her query of, "do you need me, Danse?" coming out softer than she had intended.

  She wanted to believe that the paladin hesitated before he replied, "No, General Vega. I can manage."

Part Eighteen

[imissjoongsmullet]

My Prince (1)

Pairing: Minghao x reader

Genre: fluff/(angst)

Summary: Life is not exactly easy being the royal gardeners’ daughter but at least it’s simple. When you’re suddenly called upon to serve as the prince’s personal servant, things get a little more than complicated, especially considering the secret history you and the prince share.

Part 2

Part 3

Warnings: general angstiness, a bit of a slow burn, very romantic, very soft, the fact that this will most likely become a long series cause I have no chill

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note: this is a present for my sweet sweet baby @silverstonemanor you deserve the world, I hope you like it! She gave me the idea for this story a while ago. I would have posted stuff earlier but my extra self couldn’t stop and ran way too far with this whole idea. This was supposed to be a drabble and well, now it’ll probably become the longest thing I’ve ever written that isn’t a novel so yeah ^^” oopsie~

►

The sun was just peeking over the distant treetops when you entered the wide castle grounds with your parents, tool bag slung over your back. You didn’t mind waking up this early; you enjoyed watching the various shades of orange and pink roll over the sky like waves, until nothing was left but clear blue. Besides, in a few hours, the air would turn far too hot and humid for you to focus.

The royal gardens were massive. They’d seemed infinite as a child and even now, despite your position as gardener, you found yourself lost in them from time to time. You followed your parents to the place you’d left off the evening before: a long, narrow stretch of grass, flanked by vibrant tiger lilies on both sides. At the far end was a small, ornate pagoda, around which a thin body of water lay. It was a lily pond of your father’s own making.

“Start at the front,” your mother’s stern voice called from behind, “we need it perfect by noon.”

You did as you were told, getting on your knees in the damp grass, facing the flowers. They needed pruning, as well as weeding. There would be some sort of royal meeting held right here today and; naturally, the place should be spotless. You dug your fingers into the moist soil and pulled at the weeds haphazardly, eyes drifting to the sky more often than necessary. It was tedious work, being part of the royal gardeners but you’d never had much of a choice in the matter. Your parents had done it and the same was expected of you. It’s not like you minded it all that much; you just wondered sometimes whether there was something more exciting you could be doing with your life than fussing over the tiniest details of a garden so vast, the emperor would probably never even see half of it.

The distant neighing of a horse called your attention. Unthinking, you got up and jumped onto the raised platform of the pagoda, so you could see over the bushes of the garden. From the castle’s main entrance came about a dozen men on horses. They trod down the path that lead into an enormous forest. At the front of the procession was the emperor of Namin himself, his most trusted servant by his side. Your eyes went immediately to the horse behind them though; for that’s where the prince sat. The gold detailing on his robe glinted in the warm morning light as he silently followed his father.

“Hey!” your mother barked at you, “these weeds won’t disappear by themselves you know.”

You pulled your eyes away from the procession and hopped off the pagoda with a dull thump and a sigh. You wished you could join the people on their horses. You didn’t even care where they were headed; you just wanted to get out. You imagined adventures you’d have with the prince sometimes; it was a bit of a guilty pleasure and if anyone ever found out, you’d probably be banished from the grounds.

But the prince and you had been close once. You’d been only children but even then it had been scandalous. Servants weren’t allowed to interact with royals but, as the daughter of the palace gardeners you’d spent a fair amount of time on grounds, learning your parents’ craft. That’s how you’d first met him.

He’d been reading by himself under an orange tree when you’d found him, a young boy of seven. He’d seemed weary of you at first but in a matter of hours, the two of you would’ve seemed like best friends to strangers. You still remembered the way he’d smiled at you that first day when you said goodbye; as if he himself was shocked by how much fun he’d just had.

From then on, you’d been secret playmates. He’d find you in the rose garden, watching your parents treat the plants and steal you away for hours, playing hide and seek in the endless maze of greenery, until the sun went down and when you’d return, your parents were worried about where you’d been.

He hadn’t seemed much like a prince back then. You’d just known him as Minghao, your best friend. He’d been loud and wild and full of life, chasing you between trees and under bushes, not afraid to get completely covered in dirt. One time, you’d been teasing each other until finally, he’d pushed you into one of your father’s most prided fountains. You’d yanked him down with you, ruining the apparently-brand-new robes he was supposed to wear to a formal dinner with the ruler of a neighboring land called Yientan that evening. You hadn’t seen him in the following days and you’d felt extremely guilty but a week or so later, he’d jumped out from behind a tree and pulled you into another afternoon of carefree playing.

You were eight years old when you finally got caught. To make matters worse, it had been the empress herself who’d found you, hidden behind a banquet table at one of the royal summer festivals, laughing a bit too loud. You’d never forget the look in her eyes — hard as stone at her own son — as well as Minghao’s — positively terrified. She’d had the guards escort him back to his chambers assuring him there’d be punishment later. She would have banished you right then and there in front of everyone if it hadn’t been for your parents’ begging. They promised to have you start training twelve hours a day with them, to force all your focus on gardening so you wouldn’t have the energy to think about anything else.

You supposed you should be grateful. You would never have survived on your own outside the grounds should you have been banished.

After that, you barely ever saw Minghao and even when he was out in the gardens, you kept your distance. There were times when your eyes crossed and you’d share a look and a smile that reminded you of the way things once were. But even that didn’t last. Soon enough, Minghao grew up and you stopped seeing him as Minghao, the name replaced with ‘prince’, as others called him. It seemed to fit him more. By his fourteenth birthday, there wasn’t much left of the loud, wild, full-of-life boy you’d known. His back was straighter, his shoulders squared and his kind smile vanished. On the rare occasion your eyes did meet, his were cold like his mother’s and you just had to learn to live with that.

Because you knew your place now.

Yet, as you worked your way around the stretch of tiger lilies, your mind kept flitting to the prince. You couldn’t help it. You knew it was silly but, somehow, you still hoped you could return to how things were before.

You were a sweaty mess once the sun arrived high in the sky. Your hands hurt and your stomach was growling but your mother had told you not to take a break before the flowerbeds were in perfect condition. After that you’d still have to clean the pond, all before the clock struck three, when the meeting would take place. You were getting impatient and grouchy and when someone called your name you replied with a bit more attitude than you were allowed to.

“What now?” you groaned, turning around to see, not your parents, but a tall, thin woman in pristine, white and gold clothing. You nearly fell over into the flowers.

The woman didn’t seem fazed. “Come with me,” she ordered in a monotone voice.

You looked around for your parents and found them just as perplexed as you were. Hesitantly, you stood and followed the stranger through the garden. You knew by her clothes she must work at the castle but, as you had no idea of what went on on the inside, you couldn’t tell exactly who she was or what she wanted from you. You worried suddenly they’d somehow found out about your secret prince fantasies, which was a completely irrational thought but horrifying nonetheless.

You were taken through the main entrance, with its massive wooden doors and colorful flags — a gold dragon against a vivid blue backdrop. You'd been fantasizing about what lay behind them since before you could remember. More blue and gold flags? Statues of the royal family? Elaborate paintings or murals?

It was more than you could have dreamed of. The room was entirely bare, drawing the focus on the only the two things that mattered. The floor was a wood, so shiny you could see your face reflected in them, the gentle creak in them like a birdsong. The walls were painted a sky blue, decorated with gold, spindly tree branches. Their shine reflected onto the wood, lighting up the place beautifully.

You had no time to admire any of it. The tall woman’s stride was hasty and you could barely keep up. Tailing her through a small sliding door, you came upon a narrow hallway. You passed others in servant’s clothing: light colored, clean, silk robes. They billowed behind them gracefully as they shuffled past. It made you realize how much you stood out in your mud-stained tunic and trousers.

You ventured deeper into the castle, taking turns through sliding door after sliding door and you started wondering whether you’d ever find your way back outside, when suddenly, the stern woman turned around to face you. You were in a small room with a low table as its center piece. The woman motioned for you to sit and so you did, feeling your heartbeat quicken. What kind of punishment was in store for you here?

The woman took the seat opposite you at the little table, expression unwavering. “I’ve called you here because your services are required in the castle,” she said, sounding put off by the idea.

You could only stare at her in confusion. Why on earth would you be needed at the castle? Your parents did the odd job inside every now and again, mostly flower pieces for special events, but you’d never even been allowed in. Was this some kind of joke?

“Our royal prince’s personal servant has fallen ill,” she went on as if she couldn’t care less, “we need a temporary replacement.”

It took you a few moments to put two and two together.

“You mean me?” you let out a little louder than you’d meant to.

The woman raised her brows. “Believe me I would have chosen otherwise but as it is, you’re the only adequate servant on castle grounds available at the moment.”

Adequate, you thought perplexedly. That wasn’t really a term you’d ever use to describe yourself, let alone a term some crabby older woman would use to describe you.

“The position of any royal member’s personal servant has a set of very specific requirements. Age, gender, birth time,… I don’t expect you to know about it,” she sighed, quite literally looking down on you. “Skills can be taught,” she went on, rising and beckoning you to follow, “but unfortunately the alignment of the planets are beyond our control.”

She opened up a panel behind her, revealing a deep closet space filled to the brim with colorful fabrics. She pulled out a soft lilac robe, not unlike the ones you’d seen the other castle servants wear, and held it up to you, looking you up and down.

“This will do,” she said with a concerning lack of enthusiasm. She pulled out a bunch more similar robes and made a neat pile. “Come,” she ordered and left with the clothes.

All you could do was follow and try to process the ridiculous things you’d just been told. Perhaps you were just dreaming, you thought. Yeah, that had to be it.

You arrived in another bare room, this one large and rectangular. There were a couple of other servant girls, folding robes on the floor. They all rose upon seeing the older woman and bowed in silence. Then they noticed you and their eyes narrowed. You felt their stares stab at your already racing heart.

“Before we can begin your training you need to wash, child,” the woman said, laying down your new clothes, “I’ll be back in half an hour. Be ready," and with that, she left you standing there, completely in shock.

After awkwardly looking around the room for far too long to be socially acceptable, you plucked up the courage to ask for help. The young girls exchanged looks before reluctantly bringing you to the baths.

If you hadn't been so anxious it would've been the best bath you'd ever had but for all the luxurious oils and soaps to scrub yourself clean with, your brain was too preoccupied with everything that had just happened.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered when you were met with the older woman again, “I’m just a gardener.” You were shuffling after her in the narrow hallways, trying to wrap your head around things.

“Don’t be dramatic,” she answered simply, “it’s not befitting a royal servant. Besides, this is merely a temporary position. You’ll be back out with your tools in no time.”

Her name, you’d learned, was Tou Ma, or at least that what you were to call her. She was head keeper to the royal family, in charge of all female servants in the castle. Her face was long, with eyes like slits and cheekbones sharp as glass. You couldn’t tell how old she was from the heavy layers of powder she wore but supposed she must be older than your mother.

She spent the rest of the day attempting to cram an overload of information into your head. She taught you to bow ‘the proper way’, whatever that meant; apparently you’d been doing it wrong your entire life. She explained all the intricacies of etiquette, washing, folding, serving, dusting, pruning and a bunch of other things you’d probably forget by the next day. It was all so overwhelming that when it was finally over, the sun was setting and you were about ready to pass out.

“Now,” Tou Ma said, somehow still as fierce as she was at the beginning of the day, “the emperor and his son returned from their hunting trip approximately one hour ago. I suggest you don’t keep him waiting much longer.”

The words took the earth right out from under your feet.

“I have to see him?” you stammered, “now?”

Tou Ma looked unimpressed. “I’ve told you how he likes his tea,” she said, “don’t mess it up.”

You were one and all nerves as you approached the prince’s chambers. You nearly got lost on the way, the hundreds of hallways all blurring together after such a long day, but the entrance to his chamber was not easily missed. It was a heavy, wooden sliding door, it’s surface craved out, depicting a scene from a past war. It was imposing to say the least, with soldiers on horseback and a massive dragon in the sky, spewing fire. It did not manage to still your racing heart.

Taking a deep breath, you slid open the door.

There he was, the prince, sat in a blood red, upholstered chair at his desk, writing. He looked regal, you admitted, in his clean, silk robes and perfect hair; too beautiful to touch. He looked up at the sound of the door. His brown eyes fell on you and his lips parted in silence.

“Um,” you started awkwardly, which was already not the ‘proper’ way of serving tea, “I’ve brought you some tea.”

That’s when you noticed his brows furrow ever so slightly. Having forgotten everything Tou Ma had taught you just before, you walked over to the nearest surface — a narrow table against a wall — and set down the tray you’d been holding. You felt his eyes on you the entire time as you tried to remember how to prepare the beverage properly but when you were finally done after what seemed like forever, you found him hunched over his writing again.

“Okay,” you said softly, “it’s ready.”

He set down his pen and turned to you with a look that was impossible to read. The silence between you seemed to last forever and you felt your face go red hot. You noticed for the first time how tired he looked. He was seventeen, one year older than you, but the darkness under his eyes would suggest otherwise.

Part of you wanted to go nearer to him. You took a hesitant step forward but at once, you saw his eyes turn colder than you’d never seen them.

“You can leave,” he said suddenly, casting his eyes back down to his writing.

“Yes,” you stuttered, taking the emptied tray and hugging it to yourself, “of course.”

You stumbled backwards until you met the door, made an awkward bow and left the prince with a sinking feeling in your gut. You’d watched him change over the years from a distance, sure; but having him dismiss you so coolly when there was no one even around to see? Well, it hurt. Maybe part of you had hoped he’d act differently when it was just the two of you. Maybe you’d hoped he’d tell you all these years of iciness had been pretend for his parents. But clearly not.

In one day, your entire life had turned upside down and at its end, you were positive things hadn’t changed for the better.

Part 2

[millenniumsilver]

Title: Vulnerable Heart

Main Character(s): Lee Myungbin. Kim Hana. Kwon Junseo

Summary: Ever since he was young, Myungbin realized the strongest ability he had was the power to make friends wherever he went. He picked up on the fact that socializing was one of his favorite things since he was a kid, and ultimately prided himself in being the social butterfly that charmed everyone. (Or: a look at how Myungbin decides to befriend people, and how it plays out for him in return)

하나

2006

When Myungbin was growing up, the first thing he remembered learning from his parents was that the best thing to carry himself with was a smile. At the young age of eight, he didn’t quite remember why his parents made such an emphasis on it, but it wasn’t like him to be bothered with it. 

He liked smiling, and even more importantly, he liked making people smile. He never had anything to lose when it came to the prospect of bringing some happiness into someone else’s life, even if it would be momentarily. 

Thus, it was no surprise that when his class got a new student in the middle of the year, he was the first to approach her. Myungbin, being practically the whole class’ friend, felt like it was his duty to make her feel as welcome as possible. 

And maybe it was also the fact that seeing her sit in the back, not having made any moves to get to know anyone, keeping her eyes focused on the windows that didn’t just sit right with the young kid. 

Ever the one to act before thinking things through, it was only a few moments before the school day was to begin that Myungbin had decided to march to the back of the class, right where Hana had just arrived. 

“Hi!” 

The voice was bright and loud, not a single semblance of care for anyone around them was present in him, simply wanting to talk to the girl that had him itching to move every single class. 

“My name’s Myungbin,” the kid’s smile rivaled the furrowed brows and blank look on Hana’s face, which only increased his smile in size (in an attempt to look all the more welcoming, even if there was a chance he looked like he was in pain). “but you can call me your new best friend!” 

A beat of silence was his instant reply, causing his smile to waiver in the slightest as his eyes finally met Hana’s, both of them staring at each other with different emotions flickering between the hues of their eyes. 

There was a small part of Myungbin that suddenly thought of how maybe Hana didn’t want to make any new friends, and maybe she was perfectly content sitting by herself every single day,

But the thought was too absurd for Myungbin who craved social interaction every other minute, so it flew out of his mind as immediately as it came in. 

Maybe she just thought Myungbin was weird. 

Maybe his parents lied about his smile being the best thing about him.

Oh god, his parents set him up. It was another one of their “learning experiences” that was meant to make Myungbin grow, but to be quite frank, as a young kid, he would rather leave the growing for the future. 

His thoughts silenced at once when he heard laughter slip in his ears, finally escaping his mind only to see that the blank face had dissipated and instead a bright smile had found its way onto Hana’s face. 

“If I’m calling you that, shouldn’t you call me the same thing?” 

Even though it didn’t seem physically possible for his small face, Myungbin’s smile had managed to grow even wider, feeling as if he accomplished something of worldly importance seeing Hana smile for the first time. 

“Duh! How else are people going to know about our friendship?” 

2019

“You’re the most ugly person I’ve had the displeasure of meeting, you know that?” 

Myungbin heard the annoyance pierce through the small cafe, the voice bringing an immediate smile to his face regardless of the words that were carried along with it. He turned his head around from the seat he was in, watching her walk from the entrance straight towards him, anger emitting from her; her brows stitched together, the way the corner of her lips dipped down ever so slightly, and her eyes that scorched a fire of irritation. 

Myungbin couldn’t help himself letting out a chuckle at the visual of her powering through the batches of people as if she was on a mission. He was quick to get himself to get up from his seat, a feeling of warmth scouring through his body: something he hadn’t quite truly felt since the moment he left everything behind. A feeling that only two people had ever managed to make him feel. 

“The smile’s only making you uglier.” A swift jab to his chest was accompanied by those words, only for Myungbin to disregard it all and wrap his arms around her, pulling her as close to his chest as physically possible. 

“Hana.” 

“Jackass.”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“Is that why I didn’t know you were back until now?” Hana’s voice had simmered down from its attempt at anger at such a speed, if Myungbin hadn’t been friends with her for more than a decade, he would’ve grown concerned. 

It had only been 6 years of them being apart, but when it was under the comparison of them being friends for 13 years, it felt longer than just that. 

“I’m sorry, Hana.” 

Everything was so much more than it was at the surface of their friendship. Everything always meant so much more. Everything always mattered so much more. Everything always hurt so much more. 

“But, I’m back for good.” he whispered gently, as he felt her arms tighten around his back, his chin slightly lowering onto her head. 

The two friends reuniting after being apart for as long as they were, was probably a bit more dramatic than they both imagined, but neither paid any mind to it. Their communication didn’t halt altogether, but it was never the same when they were both used to seeing one another face to face, rather than behind a phone screen.  Being such integral parts of each other’s lives and having that fall apart the way it did just meant so much more now. 

Even if they had a missing piece in their friendship. 

준서

2019

“So, do you guys want to share contact info? I think it’ll be nice to start a group-chat just to get to know each other a bit more.” Hyunwoo spoke as he scratched the top of his head, the smallest of smiles playing across his lips, something all of the boys seemed to share.

It had only been an hour ago when the CEO of Crescent Crystal had held a meeting to announce what each boy had been suspecting ever since word had spread throughout the small company: five boys had been chosen to finally debut. 

Granted, neither of the five boys had expected to be informed that they’d be debuting in a group, and an idol/actor group at that. But it wasn’t like the majority of them had any issue: a debut was a debut, in whatever form it came for them. 

Thus, the five boys had been left with one another to “get to know each other”, with the CEO leaving only moments ago. 

“I think that’d be smart. Plus, we can plan stuff together through that.” Yejun spoke directly from the left side of Myungbin, the younger noting how although he spoke to the group, his eyes wouldn’t stop glancing at Junseo from across the table. 

“Cool, cool, I can set everything up, I just need your guys’ info and we’ll be set! One step closer to debuting, right?” Hyunwoo was the embodiment of both nervousness and excitement as he sat there with his phone out, the smile on his face fighting the way his hands trembled ever so slightly. 

To say there was an air of awkwardness would be putting it as simply as possible. As far as Myungbin knew, none of the boys really knew each other at all, and the thought of being shoved into a dorm with one another, and debuting in a group was something they’d all have to wrap their heads around. 

“Alright, Junseo, can I get your-”

“I’m good.”

The response raised Myungbin’s brow, watching the eldest of the five shrug off Hyunwoo as he continued scrolling through his phone. If Hyunwoo was the perfect example of excitement, Junseo was the quintessence of discomfort throughout the whole meeting. Avoiding eye-contact with any of the members, and giving short and curt answers to anything the CEO asked. Myungbin didn’t know much about the man personally, but from the way the meeting went, the way Yejun’s eyes lingered on Junseo every few seconds, and the way he didn’t seem interested in the slightest in regards to the other boys, Myungbin could tell he was going to be a problem. 

“What?”

“Listen. We’re in a group, right?” Junseo questioned, finally putting his phone down onto the table, turning ever so slightly to stare at Hyunwoo, the latter shifting in his seat. “As in, we’re working together for our careers, yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re-”

“So, we’re coworkers. Not friends. We’re a bunch of people stuck with one another in order to advance our careers, nothing more. I don’t want to be anything more. If you’re going to have this group chat, don’t count me in.”

Silence leaked across the room, Myungbin eyeing all the boys in the room in an instant; watching the way Hyunwoo’s face tinged with a pink hue as he turned away from Junseo, while Yejun’s stare at Junseo had lost any ounce of subtlety, and Minjun who had been the most quiet throughout the meeting had begun playing with the hem of his sleeves. 

“What a prick.” the words slipping from Myungbin’s lips were meant to remain as a thought, but watching the aura of smugness that followed Junseo’s movements bothered the young man beyond belief. 

“I heard that.”

“Look at you go! Figured out how to use your ears properly.” 

Junseo’s glare shifted from Hyunwoo onto Myungbin, watching the way his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched several times, showing his bad attempts at hiding his anger. 

“Thanks for proving my point as to why I don’t want to be in a group chat.” 

“I don’t think we really need you in the chat-“

“As if you don’t need me. Me being in the group is a favor for you guys, I already have a solid thing going, not like you three.”

“Or maybe your failed attempts here and there put you on the same level as people who don’t have things going just yet, huh?” 

Although Myungbin’s fighting words pierced the air in the room, the tone of his voice was anything but malicious. He found it the tiniest bit humorous how easy it was to get under Junseo’s skin, and although he didn’t have any intent to start an argument today, he didn’t really have any intention to stop either. 

It was kind of funny watching the way Junseo looked as if he was going to leap across the table and lunge at Myungbin. 

“Let’s stop.” Yejun’s voice cut through the building tension, his tone a contrasting warmth to the icy words that had been spat across the room. “We can talk more about this next time, no one’s obligated to do anything, and no one’s doing anyone favors. Let’s call it a day and meet up another day, okay?” 

His question didn’t require an answer, Myungbin watching the way Junseo’s eyes met Yejun’s for a split second before he was up out of his chair and out of the door. 

Maybe Myungbin already had a favorite amongst the boys. 

2020

“You have a kink for storming out of rooms, don’t you?”

His joke was met with a groan, and to be honest Myungbin was a bit shocked he didn’t have anything thrown at him. It had been the week the boys of Silver Millennium were told to move into the group dorms, and although none of the boys seemed particular excited about sharing living spaces with another, anything else was out of the question. 

An undying desire left Myungbin claiming Junseo as his roommate, even with Yejun attempting to lecture him otherwise, and Hyunwoo looking at him as if he had grown devil horns. He hadn’t had much contact with the elder short of glares being thrown his way whenever they crossed paths in the company. 

It was kind of fun for Myungbin. 

“You have a kink for going places you’re not wanted, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, the rejection of it all kinda gets me going.” Myungbin found himself leaning against the railing just as Junseo was, the elder rolling his eyes before letting out a quiet grunt, moving to get a cigarette from his pockets. “Listen, I came here to talk to you.”

“Talking to me would mean I want to talk to you too. You came here to talk at me.”

“Eh, I could never tell the difference.” it was obvious the humor emitting from Myungbin was there to make himself comfortable as opposed to cause laughter, watching the way Junseo kept his sight away from Myungbin, the thin straight line on his lips now twisting into a frown. “But, honestly, now that we’re roommates, I feel like we should clear the air.”

“So...apologize.”

“We should clear the air, hyung, both of us.”

“I don’t think I did anything wrong.”

“You just called me a gremlin in front of everyone and said that if we roomed together I’d be missing by the morning.” 

“Again, nothing wrong.”

Myungbin let out a laugh at the way Junseo shrugged him off entirely, more focused on raising the cigarette to his lips than paying attention to anything Myungbin was saying. 

“Fine, I’ll apologize for trying to antagonize you, it was just fun watching you quake in anger-”

“This is an apology?”

“I like cracking jokes, it makes me feel less like you’re going to throw me off this roof.”

“If I commit murder, I’m not wasting a prison sentence on you.”

“Whoa,” Myungbin finally looked away from Junseo, his eyes focused on the skyline of Seoul in front of them. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or not.”

Another grunt in response, Myungbin peeked a stare at the older of the two from the corner of his eyes. He watched the way the smoke escaped his lips, suddenly feeling a sense of nostalgia amongst the smell of smoke, the cold air nipping at his neck, and the dark sky giving both a sense of comfort and loneliness. 

“I want to be your friend-”

“Are we in grade school?”

“and I’m willing to take a fifth of the space in the room to get to that place with you.”

Silence lulled between the two of them, the noise of the city remaining to fill the empty spaces. 

“A sixth.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor so my bed won’t take space.”

“Deal.”

The two of them finally made eye-contact, the faintest of smiles dancing across Junseo’s lips, allowing for Myungbin to return the gesture. Myungbin wasn’t sure the two of them would grow to be the best of friends or anything of the sort, but all that he cared about was making sure he wasn’t the one driving a wedge between this group of boys. 

A part of him didn’t think he could manage being the reason why another of his friend groups fell apart the way it did. 

덕수

2021

Myungbin was a sole believer in soulmates. He firmly believed that there was something out there for everyone. For some people, maybe their soulmate was within themselves. For some people, maybe their soulmate was in the form of a friendship that would last till the end of time. For some people, maybe their soulmate was someone who had a missing piece of their heart.

Myungbin knew in his heart everyone has someone. 

But he didn’t think everyone was destined to be with their soulmate. And that sometimes in life, it wasn’t a rare occurrence to meet the one who you knew you were destined to be with only to wake up one morning and only have them in your memories. He felt that even if someone was someone else’s soulmate, that there was a chance they’d meet and become so intertwined in each other’s lives only to unravel as quietly as when the strings of fate brought them together. 

Whenever he was close to vocalizing these feelings, Myungbin was always cautious. 

He didn’t think most people would get that he felt like he lost a part of himself-a part of his heart, when he managed to slip between his fingers. It felt surreal that when his eyes landed on him he felt his whole world shift, as if something missing had finally come together. 

When he was younger, he didn’t think much of it. Always the one to poke fun at his friends being in love, he never imagined himself in the same position. And he never found himself to be in love until everything he had with him slipped away and shattered in countless pieces that wouldn’t bring themselves back together. 

Myungbin’s sentiment extends to his idea that soulmates wouldn’t stay together if their souls aren’t ready to meet one another’s. That instead of love feeling like walking down a flowery path, with the breeze of undying comfort lingering in the air, and the warmth of holding hands bringing an unconditional sense of security, it felt like having flesh ripped open and letting the heart remain vulnerable to any blow and hurt that came its way, unable to do anything about it. Myungbin thought that if it wasn’t the right time, that the love two people held so dear would be the reason they fell apart rather than be the reason they grew closer. 

Myungbin wasn’t sure when or if he would ever find the person he knew in his guts was ‘the one who got away’, and he wasn’t sure if their souls were meant for each other’s anymore. 

But sitting in the cafe right in front of him, seeing the same face that had lingered in his mind for several years, Myungbin felt his world shift once again.