#maybe everything being a story is actually a bad thing unlike music but because half of my life has been taken up by reading

[electrobiology]

you only get better at writing through writing but how do people think of things to write about....... but that's not even my problem it's how do you turn your thoughts into words....... and how do you make it meaningful.....

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt 11.

Cw. Drugs and Scarcrows fear gas.

Pt.1 pt.10 Ao3

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It was a beautiful day in Gotham City. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the wind had picked up the previous night and had blown the sea breeze in, making the air somewhat more breathable. Danny and Jason had even planned to go on a picnic at the park that afternoon. Yes, everything was great.

That is, until the city was put on lockdown due to Johnathan Crane being found missing from his cell at Arkham Asylum, canceling not only Danny’s, and every other student’s, classes but his plans as well. And as the topper on the melted ice cream sundae of a day; Danny was now experiencing probably the worst period cramps he’d had in the entire span of his existence. Something he attributed to Gotham’s less than stellar air quality.

So yeah, Danny wasn’t having a good day.

He couldn’t decide whether the worst part about it was that the dorm building was packed with students who seemed more than at ease with the lockdown and seemed more interested in finding every possible way to make Danny’s headache worse, or the fact that he’d run out of ecto-infused snacks. Maybe it was the Snack thing. The people were only an issue because of the snack thing.

Not long after the accident that Danny had realized, while his parents’ blatant disregard for lab safety had rendered almost all the food in their house inedible for regular human people. The ecto-contaminated food did wonders in not only boosting Danny’s energy, but also acting as sort of a pain relief where medicine tended to fail. It was like if drinking twelve cups of coffee was actually healthy for the human body.

Ever since, Danny had made it a point to keep a steady supply of ecto-infused snacks squirreled away wherever he could stash them. He had been meaning to restock the supply in his dorm but had gotten a little… distracted. He didn’t even have any vial of pure ectoplasm- which if drunk like a shot could heal any particularly bad injuries- lying around because as annoying as Tristan was, Danny thought that giving his roomate radiation poisoning wouldn’t be such a good idea given the city he was in.

Now a simple solution to this dilemma would be to just make a portal to the realms and travel to Amity that way, no harm no foul. The problem arose with finding a place to make said portal. Tristan adamantly refused to move from his bed, which ruled out just portalling from their dorm. The Halls and Bathrooms were populated by untold amounts of student sheltering in place, and on top of all that; there were guards posted at the entrance to every building on campus. A precaution taken due to Gotham U being one of Cranes favorite places to go fuck shit up after a breakout. Suffice to say; Danny was trapped.

As he doubled over to clutch at his abdomen, Danny thought over his options. Climbing out the window would probably be the worst idea. If Tristan didn’t stop him then the guards two stories directly below the window would. He briefly re-entertained the idea of opening the portal in their room and hoping Tristan was too engrossed in his phone to notice, but portal making was a lot of things, cool, mentally draining, useful, but one thing it wasn’t was discreet, so that thought was quickly discarded. That left either finding a secluded broom closet (unlikely) or hoping the roof was available (Slightly more likely).

He chose the slightly more likely option.

It took a bit of effort to drag his pain ridden corpse out of bed, but Danny got there eventually, despite the stabbing pain in his side. He grabbed a water bottle off the floor and muttered some half hearted excuse to Tristan who didn’t even look up from his phone - again Danny considered just portaling from there.

“You do you man,” his roommate said as Danny shambled out the door.

The halls were buzzing with various conversations. Someone had even pulled out a portable speaker and was blasting music down the hall. Stepping around various board games littered throughout the hall, Danny made it about halfway to the stairwell before getting stopped by some of his classmates.

Miranda and Jaime - if his albeit fuzzy memory served him correctly- were heading a debate on whether or not the fuzzy images from a recent mission to Venus proved that sentient beings had at one point inhabited the planet, or if the “structures” were just naturally occurring land formations. It was an interesting debate, both sides were making really good points, and Danny considered staying until a sudden flare of pain reminded him of his goal.

Right, Amity.

The stairwells were much the same as the halls if not louder. It was a relief once Danny stepped out into the cooling fall air, the din of the crowded dorm getting cut off as the door closed behind him. The sun had just begun dipping in the sky, casting a warm orange glow across the generators and ac units and a breeze rustled through his hair. The half ghost could almost feel the comforting stickiness of the Infinite Realms’ Ambient ectoplasm on his skin.

Maybe if he hadn’t taken a moment to appreciate the roof’s silence he could have made it there. But as it were, Danny was not alone on the rooftop.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” The voice was raspy, as though the owner made a habit of gargling thumbtacks, or screeching about becoming a god. Danny froze as his eyes locked on its source. Fuck.

He could barely think as Scarecrow stalked toward him. On one hand; he couldn’t let Scarecrow get inside the building, that would undoubtedly result in casualties and Danny had friends in there. But on the other hand; Danny was in no shape for a fight that wouldn’t end in the rouge's immediate demise, and he didn’t need the Bat on his ass for totaling another of Gotham’s crazies.

His thoughts were sluggish and by the time the imminent danger had registered; Crane had already bridged the distance and had sprayed something gross in Danny’s face.

“You will be the first of my soldiers, boy, and you will help me bring Gotham to its knees. But of course every great leader instills fear into the hearts of his subjects.” Scarecrow then proceeded to laugh maniacally as one does when they are a supervillain, but Danny hardly heard him. He was too busy floating.

Danny had only gotten high once. It was sometime in sophomore year, around the time the bullying eased up and a good portion of the school was singing his praises for finally decking Dash during a particularly bad week. Someone- Danny couldn’t remember who- had dragged him to a house party. Beyond tired and stressed to hell from the relentless barrage of ghost attacks plus a crazed up plot from the fruitloop, he had been dead on his feet, literally and metaphorically, the whole week. So when a stranger offered him a plastic bag full of pills, he took them.

The high hadn’t lasted long with his metabolism, but for a few amazing moments, Danny Fenton was walking on air. All the stress and pain that had plagued him all week was washed away in a wave of overwhelming calm.

Scarecrow’s fear gas felt exactly the same way. Just with the added bonus of hallucinations.

Danny blinked the spots out of his eyes as the toxin raced through his system. He could feel his senses dulling and was vaguely aware of the pain in his abdomen dissipating. Something bright flashed in his peripheral and he thrashed around to look at it. His movements felt slow but floaty, like he was moving through water, and sure enough; once he looked down he confirmed that he was in fact floating.

That’s not right, Danny thought. He couldn’t be floating, what if Batman showed up? He hadn’t told the stabby baby ghost that he could fly. What if he got in trouble?

Danny screwed up his face in concentration as he focused all his effort into lowering himself back to the ground, but his body stubbornly remained several feet in the air.

“Fascinating,” Scarecrow muttered, drawing Danny’s attention back to him. “My toxin has never had this effect before. You wouldn’t perhaps be a meta? We don’t get many of those here in Gotham. I wonder- tell me boy, what do you see?” Danny rubbed his eyes, trying to focus them on the gangly mess of fabric and straw before him. What did he mean ‘what did he see’? Sure things are a bit fuzzy but- Then there was that bright flash again, this time Danny managed to catch a glimpse of bright orange hair before it disappeared behind an AC unit.

“Jazz?” he asked, perplexed.

“Who is Jazz,” the Sack man asked, a bit of curiosity hiding in his voice.

“ ‘is my sister,” Danny mumbled, voice coming out slurred and sluggish, which probably wasn’t good. He turned back to where Jazz was walking out from behind the unit. “What’re ya doin’ ear?”

“I’m not actually here baby brother,” She said, rather Jazz-like, “I’m a figment of your imagination brought on by Scarecrow’s fear toxin.” So apparently that wasn’t Jazz. But it looked like Jazz, and it talked like Jazz. And there’s that thing people say about ducks so how could this not be Jazz. Not-Jazz seemed to pick up on his confusion because she moved closer, outstretching her arms to Danny, who reached back but only became more distressed as he couldn’t seem to reach her. Not-Jazz looked at her hands sadly before letting them drop to her sides. Danny let out a small whimper.

“Look Danny, it doesn’t matter what I am,” she said, “you just have to make sure Scarecrow doesn’t get in that building.” Oh, Danny’s eyes widened, Maybe Not-Jazz was his subconscious telling him what to do. That did sound like a very Danny thing to say.

Wait, The half ghost frowned, something not clicking, Who’s the Scarecrow again? OOOOh right it’s that Sack guy that’s been talking to him for a bit. Can’t let him get inside. Okay what’s the plan. Danny turned slowly before locking his eyes on something. The door! Can't get in if the door’s locked. Need a distraction, He thought.

“What’s that!” Danny shouted, pointing at something behind the Scarecrow’s head before bolting for the door to the roof. However it seems he forgot he was still floating and thus moved in much the same way an intoxicated goose crosses the street; ungracefully.

“Awww, Kitty, look at Babypop! He’s learning to fly.”

“Aww, they grow up so fast, seems like it was just yesterday that he was chasing us with a soup thermos.” The apparition wiped a fake tear from her eyes as she watched on, distracting Danny enough that he slammed face first into the metal doorframe.

“Ember?” he asked, nursing a bruise, “Kitty? What’re you doin’ here? Where’s Johnny an’ Shadow?”

“Oh don’t mind us Babypop, just checking up on you. Carry on,” Ember waved him off but Danny only narrowed his eyes at the ghost teens.

“Are you guys more a’ thoes Hallu-halla- hul loose in ay shons?”

Kitty brought a hand to her chest in a mock gasp. “Well I’d never! How could you say such a thing? Well it’s true,” she added, “But still! Danny almost felt bad at her hurt expression and was about to apologize before getting cut off.

“Well this experiment has been fun, but the clocks a’ ticking and I have a city to rule and a bat on my tail. So if you could move out of the way that would be fantastic.” Sack man said as he walked through Ember, eliciting a very long string of curses and expletives.

Danny shook his head, “No,” he mumbled sternly, “Can’t let you in.”

“Yeah, you go Babypop! Stick it to the man!” ‘The man’ in question didn’t seem as fond of that answer.

“Pity,” he pouted, “I would rather like to have studied your reaction to the toxin. Alas.” Scarecrow lunged. Danny moved on instinct, however slow it may be, and kicked out at the man. His floatyness putting him at the perfect height to land a hit right at the Scarecrow’s face, sending him sprawling.

“WOOOO, Go Phantom! Just hold the line until the Bat can get here,” Kitty called from her perch on a nearby generator. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Danny’s gasp caught in his throat as his flight finally gave out, dropping him hard on the concrete with a loud thwump.

A few yards away Scarecrow began picking himself up as a giant shadow, out of his element in the strong evening light, dropped onto the roof. “Why you little-” he started but was cut off when the shadow jumped out at him.

“It’s over Crane, you’re going back to Arkham,” the shadow growled. The fighting continued as Danny pulled himself to sit against the cool metal door. Earlier’s bliss had begun wearing off and his head was swimming. Another gasp sent him into a coughing fit as he started feeling his aches again. Suddenly he was shoved forward by something heavy. Fuck. Everything was getting fuzzy but Danny forced himself to stay alert ( well, alert-ish).

Groggily, Danny turned to find out what had shoved him and ended up gaping up at a godlike figure. They were as big as a mountain, with a bright red face mask, and incredible form. The lowering sun holoed them perfectly and- Wait, they were saying something.

“-nny! Danny? Danny, oh my god, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Danny? He knew that name, who?- Oh! That’s him! Why would the god person be asking if he was okay? Danny narrowed his eyes. The person had grabbed his shoulders and was checking him over. Wait, they kind of looked familiar.

“Ooh, this one’s cute. Where’d you find him Babypop?” Danny’s face burned, why did it burn?

“Shu’up ‘mber, I h’ve a boyfren’,” he muttered. The person checking him over froze.

“Danny? Danny it’s me Hood. Are you okay?” OOH! Hood! Danny knew him. What was he doing here?

“I intercepted a transmission, I recognised the name of your building.” Oh had he said that out loud? Hood laughed. “Yeah, yeah you did,” he said, “Danny does anything hurt? can you tell me what happened?”

Danny squeezed his eyes shut. What had happened?

“Was tryin’ ta’ get ta’ Amity,” he slurred, “got sprayed with something’ icky. Couldn’ let him in.”

“Amity?’’ Hood asked.

“Careful Babypop,” Ember warned.

“Don’, don’ worry ‘bout it,” Danny muttered, swatting at Hood’s arm. “Hey was’ that?”

‘That’ was the giant shadow- Batman- stalking toward the two, Skulker hot on his heels and ranting about how ‘tying up your prey is so unrefined and Batman should invest in good quality cages’. The thought of Batman lugging around a giant birdcage full of old timey crooks made Danny giggle. Hood’s arms tensed as they wrapped around the half ghost’s torso.

“You’re a long way from Park Row and your drug rings Hood,” Batman growled.

“Why does everyone always say that, I can leave Crime Alley you know,” he grumbled but was met with a cold glare, “I heard Oracle tell you what building Scarecrow was on. I had to make sure he was okay.”

Batman paused. “Why him?” he asked. In the silence that followed, Danny- pressed against the man’s chest- could almost hear Hood’s core. The low thrum threatened to lull him to sleep but he blinked it away.

Finally Hood spoke.

“I don’t know,” he said, “There’s just something about him that feels familiar somehow. I don’t know why.”

Danny knew this one. He’d asked Frostbit once why the ghosts were drawn to him and to Amity. There was a bunch a of jargon about ghost politics and the portal and stuff but there was also.

“S’cuz we’re th’ same,” He mumbled, shakily poking at Hood’s chest, then at his own, right above where his core sat. “Yer like me, mm diff’rnt.” The two men above him seemed stunned, Why? What did he say?

“Babypop’s got a friend.”

“I know right? I’m kinda jealous. Hey kid, you should visit us sometime. Admit it, you miss us,”

“Yes! I would enjoy a good hunt for your pelt Ghost Child!”

Danny giggled, “F’course, I’ll vis’t soon, an’ Skully can chase me an’ you an’ Johnny can run away fr’m me, an’ we c’n all fight an’ stuff.”

“See you soon Baby brother.”

Danny startled, “Oh Jazz, f’rgot you were here,” he yawned.

Not-Jazz laughed. “I’m not here baby brother, I’m a figment of your imagination, remember?”

“Oh riiight, yer a hallucinamation.”

“That’s right,” she chuckled, “Now get some rest, you still have a lot of toxin in your system.” Danny’s eyelids suddenly felt a lot heavier with the mention of sleep, and with his older sister smiling softly at him, he finally gave in.

“G’night guys,” he mumbled before dozing off to the comforting hum of Hood’s core.

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Jason didn’t know what to say. To B or to himself. He didn’t know how to react to what Danny said before passing out in his arms. It was really disturbing how little he knew right now. Luckily, he didn’t have to break the silence.

”Do you know what he meant?” B asked. Jason shook his head and looked down at the man in his arms. Danny was really cute when he was sleeping.

“The part about being like me, or the fighting someone bit? ‘Cause either way I have no clue.” Jason sighed, feeling Batman’s stare even through the helmet. He contemplated taking it off and throwing it at him.

Another few moments passed in silence before B grunted in typical B fashion, and disappeared.

Jason let out a sigh then looked back down at Danny.

“Alright, let’s get you back to your room, hero.” The meta was deceptively lightweight and carrying him down three flights of stairs proved easier than expected. They garnered a few stares in the hallway but were left alone for the most part. Danny’s roommate didn’t even look up when Jason nudged open the door and set Danny down on his bed.

He didn't stay long after that, but Jason couldn't help but whisper "sweet dreams." Before turning and leaving

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Pt.12

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 15

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

I do not own any pictures, name, brand, song titles or anything that I used in this story.

All chapters

The next day has come. Lizzie slept in. The morning shades of light slip into Lizzie’s room and finally stir her up from her sleep. She opened her eyes looking around the room. She rubs her eyes and her face with both of her hands to wake herself up more. Then she remembered that today she is leaving for San Diego with you. Just the both of you, without Aubrey, and nobody else. Shortly after that, the second thing that came up in her mind was what happened last night between you two and it certainly brought her mood down even more. She got out of the bed with a groan and started to get ready. She turns on some music just to lift up her mood again.

She picked a song to start. After half a minute, she was struck by a realization that the song she picked was actually one of the songs in your playlist that you played before while driving her. The song is one of the songs that she secretly added to her playlist because she likes it. Of course it reminds her of you even more. After she realized, she quickly changed it to a different song. “What the hell!” She mumbled in frustration. It seems like the universe wants you to roam around in her mind and she’s not happy with it.

After Lizzie got ready, she packed everything she needed for the trip. She feels the need for some caffeine for her but too bad she’s out of coffee. So she decided to go out to get some coffee and some air just to kill some time as well until you arrive.

Weirdly, today she is in the mood for iced coffee. She thinks it is a good idea because she checked today’s weather will be warmer than usual. Then she remembers your usual coffee order and she instantly craves the taste of it so she ordered one for her, the SAME. EXACT. WAY with your order.

She actually likes the taste of the ice coffee but did she really order it just because she craves it or because it reminds her of you and she unconsciously wants to be reminded of you?

As she’s about to drive back, she gets a text from you. “Good morning Ms. Olsen, which coffee do you want me to bring today?”

She then replied to your text. “I’m okay. I already got coffee.” She put her phone down on the passenger seat and drove home.

An hour later, you arrived. Unlike usual, you didn’t get out of the car right away. You actually don’t know how you feel about this trip, especially after what happened last night. Just like Lizzie, after you got home last night you couldn’t get her out of your mind. You thought it would stop overnight but you were wrong. So wrong. As soon as you woke up, Lizzie, and what happened last night occupied your mind until this second. You really don’t know what is going on with you.

You took a deep breath, tried to get yourself together. You know it will be more awkward between you two than before but one thing you know for sure that you have a pinch of excitement for this trip, at least this time it will be Lizzie who will open the door for you. This little thought unconsciously brought your lips to a smile.

You came to the door and rang the bell. Just as you expected, Lizzie’s face showed up slowly as she opened the door. Your face’s muscles actually want to form a smile, your heart beats slowly but sure, raising faster but you managed to avoid it, not without difficulty but you did pretty good even though it came up with a hello in an awkward tone and a couple times of clearing your throat. “Hi Ms. Olsen.”

“Hi y/n.” She opens the door wider making space for you to come in. She tries to avoid eye contact as best as she can do. You come in, and she is standing near you awkwardly. She is standing with both of her hands in the back pocket of her short denim. You both were in silence for a few seconds until you decided to break the silence with a question.

“Uhm, are you okay--uhm I meant are you ready to go?” Your brain just can’t cooperate well with your mouth. You can handle being nervous around her, but being nervous in front of her and seeing her being nervous in front of you is a whole nother level for you to handle. It makes you think if she is nervous because of last night? Did she feel the same way the way you did? Or maybe you were wrong. Maybe she is not nervous right now, maybe she is actually still mad at you about last night.

Your thought stops as soon as her voice flows to your ear. “Uh yeah I am. These are the things I need to bring.” She pointed to her luggage then you put it in the car, this time Lizzie wants you to drive her car. Of course she stole a glance at you a couple times. After everything is ready, you get into the car. You see her from inside the car walking and getting into the passenger seat, with a large cup of ice coffee.

As you start driving and she puts the cup into the cup holder, you notice the description of her coffee order from the label and you can’t help yourself to let out a comment or more of like a tease. “Is that coffee mine or yours?” You gave a teasing smirk. “What y/n?!” She answered defensively. She actually heard your question the first time. She just pretends she didn’t so she can buy herself some time to curse herself internally for letting the cup visible for you and also to find an excuse to answer you.

“That coffee, is that mine or yours? You pointed to it and gave her another teasing smirk. “Oh it’s mine of course, why would I get you a coffee?” Again, Lizzie answered defensively yet ended in a cold flat tone hoping you won’t talk about it any further but too bad, you still want to talk about it.

“Then, why is the coffee order exactly the same as how I like it? Did you order it that way? I thought you didn't like it last time?” Your questions are no longer a teasing, you are actually curious about her and her coffee order.

Feeling cornered with a bunch of your questions at once, she starts to panic, becoming irritated  that forcing her to answer you with the fastest made up answer she can think of. She tucked her hair to the back of her ear, looking at you as she answered. “Seriously? y/n, why does it even matter? I went to get coffee today at Starbucks nearby and I crave some ice coffee but I didn't know which one is a good one, so I asked the barista to make me some good iced coffee. There! Are you happy now with my answer?” She let out a harsh breath. Looking very upset.

Unbeknownst to her, she would regret the answer she made up. “Oh really? Oh, It was probably Emma.” You answered nonchalantly. “I’m sorry, what? Emma? Who is Emma?” Lizzie asked with a huge confusion. She thinks there’s no way her answer that she made up coincidently connected to something or someone that you know.

“Emma, the barista you ordered the coffee from? I’m pretty sure that you went to the one I go most of the time, and Emma works there. She’s the only barista there who remembers exactly my order. Sometimes when I come in there, she even already makes one ready. I guess it’s because I always come at the same time” You smiled when you told Lizzie about Emma.

“Oh really? So why don’t you take her out for a date or something then?” Lizzie didn’t realize her sarcastic tone on her comment. “I’m sorry, what? Why should I take her on a date?” Surprised and confused with her sarcastic remarks, you turn your head quickly to her then back to the road.

“It sounds like she likes you. She remembers your complicated coffee order, and even makes it before you get there to order. She wouldn’t be like that if she didn't have a crush on you. And you were smiling when you were talking about her. I’m just saying.” Lizzie rambled in bitterness and she couldn’t help herself to pout, and again she didn't realize it. You laughed a little at her theory. “You are funny. She’s a barista, she makes coffee all the time, it’s her job.” You shake your head.

“Well, it’s either she has a crush on you or you are a very predictable boring person who always orders the same things all the time.” She answered in a mocking tone as she looked at you with an unamused expression. “Hey! I’m not a boring person. So based on your theory, does it mean Aubrey has a crush on me too? Because she remembered my coffee order when she bought me a coffee at the airport. Remember?” You joked about it but it actually hits Lizzie.

After she realized what you just said and remembered who actually ordered your coffee at the airport, she instantly jab you with a retort. “Y/n, can we stop talking about this stupid coffee order conversation, seriously!” She laid back to the seat, turned her head and looked out the window as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Okay! Okay! Geez, you don’t have to yell at me like that.” Your eyebrows furrowed, surprised and confused with why the attitude all of a sudden. After a few seconds of silence, you came to realize something. “Wait, how do you know I date girls”

“Uh- I don’t. I was just making a random comment about it.” She didn’t tell the truth again, but this time was to cover Aubrey’s back for telling her about your ex-girlfriend. And all of a sudden she turns her head to you as she asked you. “Do you?”

“Yes, I do but ---” Your phone rings and cuts you before you ask further. Lizzie was relieved that your phone rang. The call is from Jane. “Hi y/n, I know you are driving with Lizzie now but can you check your email asap please. It’s from the hotel in San Diego and it’s important.”

“Okay Jane, I will try to pull over to check it. Thank you.” You hung up the phone and pulled over to check your email. “Sh*t” That’s the only word that came out from you after you read the email.

“Y/n, what was the swearing for? What did Jane say?” Lizzie asked in a concerned tone. “I got an email from the hotel saying that they are closed for the public today and the next few days because two politicians are coming there and staying there. So they cancel all check-ins from today until the next few days.” You explained as your face showed that you are thinking of a solution.

“What?! So where are we going to stay the night? What about some other Marvel casts that are staying at the same hotel?” Panic sounds clearly on Lizzie’s tone. “Well, I guess they allowed the guests that already checked-in or stayed a few days before to stay, of course they won’t kick them out, so they canceled the incoming reservations. I don’t even know that they can do stuff like this at the last minute.” You exhale harshly.

“Oh my God. Y/n, you have to find another hotel for me.” Lizzie said in a stern voice. “I will Ms. Olsen, but I can’t do it here. We have to go somewhere and sit, so I can book us another hotel.”

You both decided to go to a restaurant that you have made sure that it is safe for Lizzie. That’s not really noticeable by the paparazzi. You were guided to your table. Not too long after you took a seat, your phone rang so you decided to answer it outside.

After a few minutes on a phone call, you came back to the table and you saw that Lizzie already ordered the drinks for both of you. To your surprise you noticed that she ordered unsweetened black iced tea for you with no lemon.

“Wow! Did you order this for me?” You asked in amazement as you took a few big gulps of your iced tea. “Huumm” She hummed to answer your question as she checking out the menu.

“How do you know I love iced tea?” You continued drinking your iced tea. She quickly glanced at you and saw you smiled on your straw that’s still on your lips and she continued checking out the menu.

“I told you, you are a boring person who always orders the same thing. You always order iced tea only if it’s freshly brewed, and not from the fountain machine.” Lizzie answered coldly with her eyes stuck to the menu obviously she doesn’t want to make eye contact with you talking about this.

You squint your eyes, staring at her. You don’t know what to say, you don’t know what’s going on. You don’t know why she even pays attention to that kind of detail but then you think, she’s probably right about you always ordering the same thing and she just happened to have good memories.

“Y/n, if you are staring at me because I ordered your iced tea, I will ask the waiter to take your ice tea back so you can order another drink and stop making a big deal about it.” She talked in a very stern annoyed tone to cover her awkwardness and embarrassment after she realized she shouldn’t have done what she did. 

She is mad at herself and confused at the same time about why she would remember things about you, things that are not important for her and to make matters worse, why would she care and order that iced tea for you. It’s just an iced tea for crying out loud. Why do you have to make a big deal about it? 

Then she remembers her “theory” about Emma that she told you earlier. That upsets her. Apparently that theory doesn’t apply to her. Well that’s what she thinks. She knows for sure she doesn’t have any crush nor feelings towards you. She ordered the iced tea for you simply just to save some time, right?

But that smile of yours, your excited tone when you find out she remembers that you like ice tea internally makes her want to smile back are what bothers her and upset her so much more. Seeing you happy unconsciously makes her happy. The more she thinks about it, the more she tries to convince herself that it’s normal to feel happy when seeing you happy, just like everybody else. She indeed wished she didn’t order your iced tea so she wouldn’t have to deal with this puzzle of emotions.

“Okay okay, I’m good, don’t take my ice tea.” Your playful answer finally brought her back out from her thoughts. “Then, I think you should start to find and book us a new hotel now.” She commanded, but this time her annoyed gaze searched for your eyes as she slightly tilted her head. “Okay, I will. Stop looking at me like that please. It’s scary.” You teased her. She rolled her eyes, tried to hide a small smile formed on her face from you.

_____

After an hour, you still haven’t found any hotel. “It’s so hard to find it. A lot of hotels are full because people are coming and staying for the Comic Con. AirBnB rental house is hard to find as well.”

Lizzie pinched the bridge of her nose, stressed out. But a light of hope came. You found a hotel. “Oh wait, There is this one hotel. It’s the only one that is still available.” You startled her with your sudden expression in your tone..

“Well book it y/n! What are you waiting for?” She groaned in irritation. “But we have a problem.” Your face and tones show a disappointment. “What? What’s the problem?” Lizzie asked with impatience.

“They only have one room, with one queen bed.” You answered.

Ch. 16

A/N:  Hello my favorite people! I'm back! :D So in this chapter about the hotel problem I don't know if a hotel would actually do that kind of stuff but I had to make the hotel cancel the reservation so I can go on with the story. Again, it's all based on my imagination. lol. Also, I don't know much about Comic Con, so pardon me in advance if what I wrote and what I will write about Comic Con is not accurate at all. I hope you like this chapter especially after the excitement from chapter 14's tension. haha. Again, thank you for reading the story this far.

Taglist: @madamevirgo , @musicinourlips​ , @unstable-sapphic-hoe​ , @fanboy7794​ , @chloe7076​ , @b0mbdotc0m​ , @trikruismybitch​ , @ichala​ , @californianwhiterabbit​ , @silver-lotus​ , @imfuckinggenius​ , @sxfwap​ , @chaekhan​ , @daenerys713​ , @emptysince18x​ , @srtamercurio​ , @stupidsapphicsstuff​ , @pattypavo​ , @selfwrotevision​ (Let me know if you want to be added in the tag list).

[axoxtxhxh]

Not Without Trying - Chapter 2

ReinerxFem! Reader

Warnings: Sex, taking virginity, oral (F receiving)

Word Count: ~4,000

Summary: This comes after the chapter Rain which was the first one of this story. I sort of skipped around a lot. You have to imagine this is about a month after Rain happened where Reiner and the reader had a little time to get closer.

A/N: I wrote this a while ago and am going back over it now to edit and post and I basically cringed the whole time. I don’t think I’m that much better now, but I’m definitely better and I did my best not to edit too much because I honestly want to be reminded of my progress. Anyway, that’s all.

There were good days being a part of the survey corps and then there were really good days. Today was one of the really good days. A mission completed perfectly, no casualties and no missions lined up meant they actually had a weekend. Y/N’s favorite way to celebrate was with drinking and dancing. She loved letting loose and spending time with friends and it feels like the last few months were mission after mission. Finally, a day off to have fun.

The band started playing just after dinner. Nearly everyone started dancing around the mess hall. Everyone was drinking and having fun. Most of the younger cadets were making fools of themselves, but some of the upper ranks were dancing and having fun as well. Y/N was one of the few captains who was dancing. Mike had grabbed her hand at the beginning of the night and she spent most of the time dancing around the room with him causing a number of the other men in the room to grumble wondering when their turn was. One of those men being Reiner. He continued sipping his beer watching Mike laughing and holding Y/N’s waist as he twirled her around the room.

“She dances better without you suffocating her,” he grumbled to himself.

“What’s that?” Connie asked him, laughing while he watched Jean and Eren fight over who was dancing better. Reiner just hugged his beer a little closer, continuing to watch Y/N.

After the eighth song of dancing with Mike, Y/N finally got away and sat down with Reiner. She convinced Mike to go get her a drink and he ran off.

“How’s your night? You look grumpy.” She sat down next to Reiner.

“I’m not grumpy.” He lied.

“Okay.” She mocked his grumpy tone. “You should be having fun! We never get to do this. They even hired a band!” They both looked at the front of the mess hall where they were playing. She watched Reiner take another sip of his beer, his eyebrows lowered. “You’re so annoying!” She stood up, grabbing his arm.

“What are you—” He was yanked out of his seat.

“Let’s dance!” Y/N dragged him over to an open spot and started twirling around him. He spun around trying to follow her, a smiling growing on his face. He caught her mid twirl and dipped her backwards, Y/N laughed at the surprise. They were able to dance for another minute before Mike returned with her drink and took her away. Reiner stood there sulking.

“I have to piss.” He needed to get away and started towards the door.

“Hey dumbass,” Levi called after him, “the bathrooms are upstairs.”

“I need some fresh air, I’ll just use a bush out here.”

“Take someone with you, you’re drunk.” Erwin said.

“I’ll go!” Y/N hopped off her spot on the table, leaving Mike behind, pouting. Stepping outside, the cold air felt so good on her hot skin. She searched for Reiner, but he wasn’t anywhere she could see.

“Reiner?” She called out, peeking around the side of the building. Vacant. She made her way behind the empty carriage. “You better not have gotten lost,” she mumbled. She slowly approached the bushes behind the carriage.

That’s when Reiner seized the opportunity and popped up from behind the bush and shouted, “Boo!” Y/N’s hands flew up and she hit him in the nose. “Fuck!” He groaned, holding his nose.

“Reiner!” She put her hand on his hand covering his nose trying to alleviate the pain this way somehow, moving him over so they could sit on the back of the carriage they were near.

“I thought you were drinking,” he complained, checking his nose for blood. “How do you even have the speed to move so fast?”

“Years of practice.” She smiled. “I’m sorry, does it hurt?”

He moved his mouth around trying to bend and turn his nose. Y/N started laughing at the faces he was making.

“What?” Reiner asked confused. She laughed even harder.

“Your…face…” she was leaning back holding her stomach cackling and Reiner started smiling at her. Unable to resist touching her, he bent forward towards her and started tickling her side inciting an even bigger laugh from her. “I’m going to pee!” She was squirming around on her back, Reiner following her with his hands, still tickling her waist. She caught her breath enough to use her knee to push him forward, launching him forward on top of her. They both continued laughing, slowly letting it die down, loving each other’s company.

Y/N let out one final sigh, smiling over the whole thing and looked up at Reiner, still on top of her. He was also smiling. He looked into Y/N’s eyes. They were half-closed from drinking, but that glimmer in her eyes was always there. A loose hair was pulled from her bun, falling over her face. Reiner reached his hand up and tucked it behind her ear, then smoothed out her hair. She smiled at him.

Maybe on a different day or a different time. Maybe if Reiner hadn’t been drinking. Maybe if they never spent that time in cabin together. Maybe if her body wasn’t radiating warmth that he could feel through his jacket. Maybe if her breath didn’t smell so sweet and her smile wasn’t so inviting. There were so many maybes. So many maybes that maybe could have stopped him from doing it, but all he knew is he wanted her. Using the same hand he used to smooth her hair, he rested it on her cheek. Not really sure exactly how this was supposed to go, he leaned forward and kissed her.

The kiss was unlike anything he had ever felt before. So warm, so soft, he tried moving his lips around a little bit. Y/N did the same. He moved his hands from her face down to her waist and Y/N brought her arms around his neck. She let out a moan into his mouth and Reiner got chills. The kiss became more passionate, deeper. Everything about it felt so good. Their lips were connected, but he could feel it all over his body. Y/N started to wrap her leg around Reiner and quickly woke up to what was happening.

“Oh my gosh…” She breathed out, pushing Reiner off of her. “We…”

“I’m sorry,” Reiner also breathing heavily, cheeks flushing a deep pink. “I’m sorry. I—I couldn’t stop myself.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like I was stopping you.” She sat up looking at him. He was on his knees, still looking at her, an innocent but pleading look in his eyes.

“Y/N?... Can we—” He cleared his throat. “Can we do it again?”

Her eyes widened. She was about to ask him why he would want a second drunken kiss when she realized. Her hand flew to her mouth, gasping. “Your first kiss.” Her eyes widened even more. “I was just…”

He smiled and shuffled closer to her.

“Why did you do that?” She was still so confused. “Why did you kiss me? You… Your first kiss.” She couldn’t understand. She sat up starting to move to get off the carriage. “Ughh, I feel like I ruined it. I’m sorry.”

“What?!—No!” Reiner followed her, hopping off and grabbing her hand, “I liked it!”

“Ugh, I drunk-kissed you and I’m not even that drunk.” Y/N brushed leaves off her jacket, unsure of where they even came from. “I need to lie down.” She started walking back inside, Reiner right behind her.

They opened the doors to the building and the band was still playing music, filling the mess hall. Everyone was still dancing and drinking. They were all caught up in watching Jean try to chug a full beer that no one noticed them walk through the room and up the stairs. The upstairs hallway was much quieter. Y/N opened the door to her office and continued through to her bedroom and Reiner froze, not going in.

“Can we just talk a bit?” He held her hand.

“Yeah. So, come in,” She said gesturing to the room. Reiner hesitantly walked in behind her. He stood against the wall as she sat on her bed. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I love you.” Both Reiner and Y/N gasped and stared at each other with wide eyes.

“You love me?”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” He looked around the room unsure of what he was trying to say. “I don’t know. Maybe I do.” He sat on the bed. “I guess I don’t know what it would feel like to be in love.”

“You’re confusing me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you telling me you have feelings for me or asking me what it feels like to be in love?”

“I guess I’m saying I don’t know, but if I do have feelings for you,” he started, “Is it bad?” She was thinking about it when he continued speaking. “Does it really bother you that you were my first kiss?”

She was about to answer when she realized she didn’t really know. Why was she so bothered by it? It’s not like she worried about it ruining their friendship because Reiner was already ready to do that. The part that bothered her the most was worrying it was bad. She barely knew what was happening when he kissed her. What if it was a really bad kiss? But why does that even bother her? She looked over at him, he was waiting for her response patiently. He was always so patient with her. She could be so annoying, but he always stuck around her. Her jokes weren’t even that funny, but he always laughed. She was often judgmental and came across as mean, but he was never offended.

She looked down at her hands. She cared about him, slowly coming to the realization that maybe it was more than she originally thought. She looked back up at him, still waiting patiently for her.

“Give me a second chance.” She finally spoke.

“You want me to forgive you?” He was confused. “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No.” She smiled. “Give me a second chance at that kiss.”

Reiner’s face flushed a bright pink and he smiled shyly. Y/N moved a little closer to him.

“Right now?” He looked at her.

“Well, yeah. Do you want to wait?” She asked.

“No, no!” Reiner insisted. “Now is good.”

Y/N lifted her hand to his cheek to guide his face to hers. They both leaned in until their lips met. Again, those sparks that ran through his body the first time were there too. Was he supposed to want more of her? Was there ever a point where he would feel satisfied? Reiner’s hand quickly moved to her waist and he opened his mouth to allow their kiss to deepen. Y/N’s hand went around his neck and in his hair. His stomach did flips and he let out a sigh, his second hand going to her lower back. He slowly turned her body, lowering her back to the bed, him hovering over her.

Was this love? He felt like he could stay like this forever, his lips on hers, breathing each other in. Everything was perfect.

Y/N was the one to stop the kiss, breathless. She was about to speak, but realized there was nothing to say. Nothing to add to the moment which felt perfect to her. She ruffled Reiner’s hair and he smiled. He backed up and helped her sit up. Both of them still unsure of what to say.

Reiner couldn’t look away. He’d never experienced anything like this. He wanted to touch her, to always keep his hands on her. His eyes never getting tired of seeing her. Her smile, the glimmer in her eyes, her hands. He looked down at her hand in his, playing with her fingers. He looked back up at her noticing her hair tousled instead of its normally tight style.

“Why do you always tie your hair up?” He asked curiously.

“My hair?” She reached her hands up to touch it. “I don’t know. It’s just easier.”

“Can I see it loose?” He reached up to take out the tie, but she pushed his hand away.

“It takes a lot to keep it like this.” She laughed, “It’s easier if I do it.” She slowly removed the pins and ties. As soon as she removed the final pin, her hair fell down in waves. Full, [your hair color] tresses all the way down to her waist.

Oh yes, Reiner was in love. He stared at her, awe-struck and entirely enchanted by how beautiful she looked. He tried to speak, but only managed to say, “I…” He reached up and took a handful into his hands, brushing through it, enjoying the feeling of silk running between his fingers. He smiled at her, then brought his hand to her cheek and leaned in, kissing her. This kiss started out passionately and swiftly made its way to burning fire. Reiner was all over her, hands holding any part he thought she was okay with, his heart racing.

“Have sex with me.” He breathed, pulling away from the kiss and moving his lips to her jaw and neck.

“What?” Y/N tried separating from him, but his grip was too strong. “You just had your first kiss.” He loosened his grip and she stood up. “Don’t you want to… I don’t know, wait a little?”

His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown. “What for?” He held her hands in his, still sitting on the bed. He started kissing her wrists and arms.

“You just… because you’re so… but…” She couldn’t think of anything to say, watching his lips move over her skin.

He stood up, took off his jacket and pulled her in, kissing her cheek and jaw. “If you want me to stop, I will.” He moved to her neck now. “But don’t worry about me, I’m not a kid.”

She put her hand on the back of his neck, letting her eyes flutter closed with pleasure. That was enough for him to pick her up and move her back to the bed.

Reiner continued focusing on her neck and jawline while Y/N unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. She had been wondering what this would feel like, ever since the cabin. She pushed Reiner up and he looked at her.

“Lay on your back,” she directed and he followed. She unbuttoned her jacket and threw it to the side then lifted the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She went to reach for the tank top, but Reiner put his hand to stop her.

“I’ll do this one.” He sat her down on the edge of the bed and lifted her tank top up, dropping it to the side. He then pulled off his shoes and kneeled down in front of Y/N to do the same for her. He lingered where he was, looking up at her, eyes half-lidded.

“What do you like?” She asked him, running her hands through his hair.

“What do you mean?” He mumbled, enjoying her touch.

“Like, what can I do for you?” She didn’t know how else to say it, but he wasn’t getting it. “Do you know what turns you on? Like what makes you feel good?”

“Hmm… watching you enjoy yourself,” He said with a smile. She rolled her eyes.

“I’ll just figure it out myself.” She pulled him up and leaned backwards. He was back at her neck. She rolled over so she was on top of him, straddling his hips. He lifted his upper body to meet hers and kissed her.

“Show me how to take that off of you.” He pointed at her bra. She took his hands and moved them to her back. He followed her hand motions until her bra came undone and he pulled it off of her. He buried his face in her chest and just held it there for a while before he started using his mouth on every inch of skin within his grasp. He reached her nipple and covered it with his mouth, licking and sucking. Y/N shuddered and her head fell back.

Reiner noticed and watched her. He moved on to the other nipple, hoping to get another response. Instead she pulled his head back and brought her lips to his. She sucked on his bottom lip and bit down lightly, running her tongue over it then moving to his upper lip. Reiner kept his hands on her back, pulling her close, loving the soft warm feeling her breasts left on his chest.

She pushed him back and leaned over, kissing his neck. Reiner let out a jagged breath. She pushed her butt down and rubbed against his groin. He grabbed her back and thigh, groaning. She continued grinding her hips against his, causing the occasional moan to escape him. He moved his hand from her back and held onto one of her breasts, squeezing and moving it around his hand causing her hips to start bucking.

She quickly got off of him, breathing heavily. Reiner watched as she sat next to him.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke quietly. “I’m trying to go slow, but this feels so good.” She laid back on the bed, unbuckling her pants. Reiner helped her slide them off. She reached up and grabbed the edge of the bed from above her. “Please don’t stop touching me.” She begged and Reiner was all over her. He made his way up to her lips again.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” He asked, looking for guidance. She pulled off her underwear and opened her legs, steering Reiner’s hand to where she needed him the most. He wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted, but the moment his hand was near her warmth, she was moaning. He used his first two fingers to move around and immediately felt how wet and slippery she was. He wished he could just bury his face into her. For now, he continued moving around, sliding his hand forward. Her hips twitched. He slid his fingers around that area again and she pulled him closer, breath shaking. Continuing on, he moved his fingers lower. Y/N grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“Go back.” She laid her head back as Reiner did what she said. Gripping the sheets, Y/N was a moaning mess, so close to her release. How long had it been that she was this desperate, bucking her hips at his slightest touch? For not knowing what he was doing, he was doing a really good job. He sped up and leaned into the crook of her neck, finding any patch of skin he could find, leaving a mark. This sent Y/N over the edge, arching her back and breathing out his name until she could catch her breath.

As soon as her high died down, she reached her arms around his neck, pulling him in to kiss him. The kiss was a lot shorter than she expected as he sat up and made his way to the edge of the bed. He looked down at her legs, gently tracing his finger from her knee to her hip, then up around her waist. In one swift movement, he pulled her down to the edge of the bed where he kneeled in front of her, propping one of her legs over his shoulder, he began using his mouth to explore her warmth.

“Reiner! Wait!” Y/N attempted to stop him, but just as she did, his tongue made its way through her dewy folds and she was thrown back, moaning louder than before. Her grip on the sheets so tight she was worried she would rip them while her thighs closed around Reiner’s head.

Reiner couldn’t get enough, sucking at anything he could get his lips around. He wrapped his arms around her thigh, holding her hips to minimize the jerking. He hummed into her, she released one hand from the sheets to grab his hair, pushing him deeper. His nose rubbed her clit and she let out a strangled groan, unable to maintain the grip on his hair. At this point it didn’t matter. Reiner was rock hard, erection throbbing at every movement and noise that came from Y/N. He used his tongue to search and found the over-sensitive nub and focused all his attention on that, sucking, licking and moaning into her. Watching her move above him, his eyes rolled back as he drank her in. Hands squeezing her hips, he was barely able to control himself. His aching member was crying to be inside of her.

Y/N’s body was trembling. Muscles spasming out of her control as Reiner filled her body with euphoric pleasure. She called out his name as her orgasm rolled over her in hot waves, then stealing her breath, leaving every inch of her body juddering wildly. She lay there, unable to move as Reiner continued his work, slowing down. As her breathing slowed with him, he pulled away, holding onto her clit with his lips until finally he released it with a slick pop. Y/N mewled with one last hip twitch.

Reiner stood up, face flushed and breathing heavily, he looked down at Y/N.

“We need to get you out of those pants.” She breathed and sat up, kneeling on the bed in front of him. She started working at the buckles and he rested his hands on her shoulders. She slid his pants and underwear down and his member sprang free, red-hot and pulsating, precum rolling down the shaft. Y/N placed her hands at the tip and Reiner gasped, squeezing her shoulders.

“Y/N,” he begged, “I really just need to be inside you.” She moved him to sit on the bed and she straddled his hips, hovering. He kept his hands on her back and his forehead resting on her chest. She quickly lowered herself onto him, moaning as she felt him squeezed in so tightly. He groaned and held her closer to him. She worked her hips, getting into a motion as Reiner’s head lifted back, then leaned forward and left kisses on her neck and collarbone.

Reiner’s groans were turning into grunts and coming more frequently so Y/N picked up her pace, building her orgasm with him. His face was buried in her chest again, mouth and hand caressing her breasts. He took a nipple in his mouth and began rolling it around his tongue and teeth. Y/N’s head shot back, increasing the speed of her grinding while also increasing the strength and depth of her thrust.

“Fu—uck!” Reiner’s breath caught. He leaned back on his arm and lifted his hips up slightly, helping deepen the thrust even more. He could tell Y/N was mid orgasm at this point and he was also… just… about… there… His head flew back and his eyes opened wide, pupils dilated, fireworks going off in his brain while his body quivered, fueling the ecstasy. He wanted to moan, but nothing came out. He stayed frozen, mouth open, unable to move until he came back down from his high huffing and panting for air. Y/N crumpled onto him, completely spent, and he held onto her with his hand, mind still hazy.

Y/N sat up enough to lay back down on the bed, pulling Reiner to lay next to her. She nuzzled into his chest and wrapped her arm around his waist, then fell asleep.

He looked down at her, smiling. How was this captain of the survey corps able to steal his heart so easily? He covered them up with the blanket, kissed the top of her head, then fell asleep.

Taglist: @lainessia

[spenciegoob]

What’s That Vegas Saying?

Request(?): Just saw this tiktok where a girl and her friends were drinking shots, and the alcohol was in these tiny test tubes. the one girl had the end of the tube in her mouth, grabbed her friend’s face so basically the alcohol was being fed to her and I immediately thought of doing that with Spencer.

The request (?) was gifted to me by the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warning: alcohol consumption, intoxication, major pining (lol oops)

Masterlist

___

Team bonding with the BAU was not as simple as it sounds. They couldn’t just stay in the woods on a camping retreat; they’ve seen too many cases in the woods. Going to the beach was just... weird. And apparently hunting down the sickest minds or eating pasta at Rossi’s mansion wasn’t “team bonding” enough. 

“How about we go to Florida?” You asked the group seated around the conference table. The chorus of unenthusiastic groans of disagreement served as your answer.

“If we want to be surrounded by drunk teenagers, maybe,” Derek piped up, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at his sarcasm. As sarcastic as it was, though, he was right. It dawned on the group that there was possibly no where to go that didn’t either have bad memories, or would definitely create some.

That was until Spencer Reid broke the silence.

“What if we go to-” The suggestion didn’t need finishing; they all knew what he was going to say. As quickly as it left his mouth, regret etched his features with the realization that not only was the team going to hop on the idea, but if he had not spoken at all, they might not have even considered it.

“Boy Wonder does it again!” Penelope shouted in her usual enthusiasm, although unlike most times, this held a bit of mischief as well. 

“That’s it,” Emily jumped in. “We’re going to Vegas, baby.”

And that’s how the team found themselves on a plane heading straight for Las Vegas, Nevada. More importantly, how you found yourself next to a more than usual jittery Spencer Reid. You knew for him, going home wasn’t exactly a team bonding vacation, but more anxiety than normal.

Anxiety about what exactly?

The question remained in your head for the first hour of the trip. That was until you couldn’t ignore the way his leg basically shook the whole plane, and his constant moving eyes flickering between anything he could out of the tiny window.

“Hey,” you said putting your hand on his knee softly, the bouncing immediately halting. “Are you okay?”

The bouncing didn’t return when the question left your mouth, but tension in his muscles returned. His whole body went rigid at your words.

“Y-yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” The question came with no malicious intent, but the speed at which it left his mouth confirmed his growing worry.

“I’m not going to pry, but I will tell you this,” you say as you squeezed his knee before releasing it. 

Spencer would never say it, but he missed the warmth of your hand on his skin too soon after it was gone.

“This could be your chance to let yourself go and finally have fun in the one place that seems impossible for you to do so.” You hoped your words reached him as you watched his eyes flicker rapidly again, the movements so subtle that if the small lights above you were off, you may have never noticed.

He was trying to let your words sink, wrap his brain around logic that had no scientific reasoning or fact to back it up. You could only hope he heard you, really heard you, and when his eyes halted and a small smile stretched his features, you couldn’t help but return the gesture with a fluttering heart.

“You may just be right.” He finally made eye contact with you, causing both of your smiles to grow wider.

With a new found serge of confidence with the hot doctor who unknowingly held your heart, your smile turned to a smirk and you leaned in so your cheek was besides his.

“And you know what they say.” You turned slightly so your eyes could rest on his side profile and gauge his reaction. It didn’t last long, because sensing movement, Spencer turned slightly too. His face was stoic, but behind his eyes there was something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You let your eyes drift to his partially parted lips, and then back to his eyes, all within less than a second.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

The same day the plane landed the team found themselves in a club that night. It was 9:57, but from the way half of the team joined Penelope is taking back shots, you could tell it was only the beginning of the night.

That’s when you noticed that Spencer wasn’t like you or Aaron pacing yourselves for the night. Actually, the doctor wasn’t drinking at all.

“Spence, you’re not drinking tonight?” You asked over the loud music that pulsed through your body. When Spencer’s eyes met yours, however, your heart beat faster than the club’s rhythm. 

“No, I um- I don’t think really like alcohol.” Something about that answer didn’t sit well with you, but apparently you weren’t the only one.

“You don’t drink for the taste, Boy Wonder,” a very drunk Penelope yelled from across the booth. 

“I’ve just never drank anything I liked.” That was definitely the worst thing Spencer could say. The second the words left his mouth, Penelope and your head shot up to meet one another’s eyes. 

The “Let’s Get Spencer a Drink He’ll Like” plan blossomed in your one second of shared eye contact.

“I think it’s time we change that, Pretty Boy,” you said with a smirk Spencer melts for, even if that look meant trouble for him later on.

“On one condition,” he started, and turned his body to face yours directly. “You try everything I do.”

You contemplated for a moment. His request meant getting shit-faced in front of your coworkers, but the saying does go what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

“You’re on.”

Penelope all but dragged a slightly less drunk Derek to the bar to fetch Spencer and you some drinks. In the meantime, Hotch stared at the two of you looking at each other, smiles beaming.

“You know,” his voice broke through the trance you two unknowingly had on the other. “I’m not helping either of you out of here when you two get too drunk.”

“I’m with the boss man on that one,” a very, very drunk Emily slurred. 

“That goes for you too, Prentiss.”

Before either of you could defend yourselves, Penelope was back with a tray of assorted shots. There were at least 7 different types of shots, two for each.

“Alright here’s how this is going to work,” she said as she put the tray in front of you two. “I will tell you what’s in them after you’ve taken them.” 

The two of you stared at the tray, your face full of excitement, Spencer’s nervousness. When you two looked back at each other, he gave you a soft smile.

“Hey.” You put your hand on his on the table as you spoke. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

His hand flipped under yours to give you a reassuring squeeze, his smile growing into a smirk as he did so.

“Let’s do this.” Your hands pulled apart as you both decided to start with the clear liquids first. The smell alone was enough to make you want to gag. 

Spencer stared at it quizzically before turning to you.

“Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

You both knocked them back as quickly as you could. You couldn’t help the scrunched up face you made as the liquid burned it’s way down your throat.

Spencer had the same face you did, obviously not enjoying the first drink of the night. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find his scrunched up nose and eyes adorable.

“That was vodka!” Penelope through giggles as the team laughed at you and Spencer’s disgust.

“Yeah, no shit.” The next shot you and Spencer picked up was also clear, but Einstein did say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. 

“Oh god, here we go again,” you mumbled before throwing the shot back, Spencer following your lead. 

Tequila.

He slammed the shot glass back on the table with a slight cough.

“That was so much worse than the first one,” he squeaked, and you couldn’t help the giggle from escaping. Spencer looked over at you and let out a breathy laugh.

“Regretting your decision now?” He asked.

You grabbed the next shot off the tray, this one having a small brown tint. He grabbed the matching one.

You clicked your glasses together and said “Never,” before finishing the third shot of the evening.

By the time the tray was finished, Spencer did not find a drink he enjoyed, but neither of you could remember what the actual goal was.

Spencer and you were both lightweights, so by the time the shots were cleared, you caught up to the rest of the team’s drunk level.

Sloppiness was a better word for it. At one point you stood behind Spencer with his head leaning back into your hand as you poured another tequila shot down his throat. At another, you had been dared to give JJ a lap dance that you didn't object to doing. 

Now, the team found themselves seated at the booth sharing drunk horror stories.

All of a sudden, Spencer shot up from his chair on legs that can only be compared to a baby deer’s, drawing the attention of the entire team.

“I think I have something to say,” he yelled, and while he seemed uncertain that he wanted to say what was on his mind, there was no uncertainty in his next statement.

“I have a crush on Y/N.” Smiles spread around the table as the team realized it only took a little alcohol for this to happen. The only two not smiling was Spencer, who was staring at his now empty chair with confusing on what the fuck he was doing etched all over his face, and you, who’s jaw was on the floor.

“Hell yeah drunk confession!” Emily yelled, breaking the silence amongst the group that the music had the courtesy to fill.

You realized it’s been way too long for you to not say anything, and whether it was the alcohol or the confirmation you needed, you yelled back at him.

“Oh my god no way.” His head turned to you, the look of confusion replaced with... regret? Anticipation? Hope?

“I have a crush on you, too!” You said it as if the two of you realized you like the same TV show, or are wearing the same socks.

Your casualty about the whole thing made Spencer feel significantly less awkward, and he made a mental note to thank you later.

“No way, for how long?,” he mimicked you from before in the same tone. The two of you stared at each other with wide eyes and bright smiles.

“Since my first day six years ago!”

“Me too!”

The rest of the team just sat there, laughing at the two who finally admitted their feelings for one another. 

“You know what we should do?” Spencer asked you, excitement spread through every inch of his face, and his hands moved between the both of you.

“Especially since we’re in Vegas,” you finished his question, catching on to what he was trying to get at.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” He needed confirmation that he was not the only insane person at this table. 

Insane and drunk were interchangeable, right?

“Let’s get married in Vegas,” you both said at the same time, and the relief you both felt when you realized the other was as insane as the other came out as two laughs.

But, as the idea was shared between you two, the team sprung into action.

“Oh no. No, no, no no no,” Derek grabbed Spencer’s shoulders and kept him firmly by his side, JJ doing the same to you. 

“How about we get you two to the hotel instead?”

And then you woke up in your hotel bed with no recollection of how you got there. Your head was pounding as the sunlight seeped through the cheap hotel curtain right in your eyes.

You groaned and shot up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes the best you could. To your right on the nightstand were two advil, a glass of water, and a note. 

You took the advil as soon as you laid your eyes on them before picking up the note to read.

Lunch at noon Next time, we’re going to Florida -JJ

So JJ was the one that brought you to the room after...

Oh god, oh no. That was so stupid. Getting married in Vegas is so stupid why is that a thing? You internally screamed. But wait, Spencer likes you?

You needed to find Spencer. Grabbing your nearest jacket, you threw it on before basically running out the door.

You didn’t get very far, because the second you turned the corner, you ran into something hard.

No, not something, someone. Spencer stood before you in the same state you were in; disheveled, hungover and a little worried.

“Hey, I was just coming to find you,” you said, trying to alleviate some of the awkwardness between you two.

“Ye-yeah me too. I uh, I actually wanted to ask you s-something.” Well so much for alleviating awkwardness. 

“You can ask me anything, Spence.” He looked up at you and gave you his signature tight lipped white boy smile.

“I know they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but when we get back, would you want to maybe grab a coffee or something?” He said rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Like a date?” You didn’t even bother to hide the hopefulness in your voice and on your face. You wanted nothing more than to go on a date with Spencer Reid.

“Yeah, a date. Is that.. okay?” The longer it took to get a yes or no, even a maybe, was enough for the anxiety and regret to start to blossom. You wouldn’t let it grow anymore, though.

“Of course it’s okay, and yes, I would love to get coffee or something.” You giggled back at him, looking up to meet his eyes that matched the ones on the plane; filled with love. 

Love for you.

____

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[writersrealmbts]

If You Have Half a Brain

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo! For the Pina Coladas prompt. You’ve been a bit down on your luck, until one of your customers, who is definitely drunk, strikes up a conversation with you and offers you a job. 

Warnings: Mentions of death, drunken antics (mild), mild language, mentions of blood/injuries (very briefly)

Posted: 06/04/2021

Tags: Hoseok x reader, business au, 

Slice of Life/Angst/moments of fluff: 11,698 words

A/N: I think it’s been over a month since I posted a story, so here’s over 10k words. Enjoy! Thanks to @kerikaaria​ for beta reading this

“Sir, you ordered a virgin.”

“Whoa, no! I didn’t even know that this was that kind of place, I mean, kudos on the confidence and I mean that in the best way because you shouldn’t be ashamed—“

“Your drink,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “It’s non-alcoholic. You ordered a virgin drink.”

“What? No I didn’t, I ordered a pina colada!”

“No, our menu doesn’t offer pina coladas. What you ordered was our Niño colada, which is from our non-alcoholic menu. I apologize for any inconvenience, but if this is you with a little bit of alcohol, then I think you should stick to sobriety.”

He stared at you, slack-jawed and blinking. “Why don’t you have pina coladas?”

You sighed. “We don’t stock rum.”

He made a choked sound. “The…rum…is gone?”

“Yes. The rum is gone.” You had a sinking feeling that you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Why is the rum always gone?!” He exclaimed, flopping onto the table.

“From your behavior, I’m going to assume you’ve consumed every last drop of it, Captain Sparrow,” You replied dryly. Well, your boss was right. You were not cut out for this job. “Now, if you’re not going to order something else, I’m going to go turn in my apron and start job hunting again.”

“Wait! Wait! Do you like piña coladas?” He asked, catching the pocket of your apron.

“I swear to God, if the next words out of your mouth are anything along the lines of ‘and getting caught in the rain’ I will murder you without regret.”

His teeth clicked shut. His eyes darted over your face. “But do you?”

You took a deep breath. “I can’t stand coconut.”

“You…don’t like…coconut?” He looked horrified. “Then…coconut chicken?”

“Ew.”

“Coconut ice cream?”

“Waste of sugar and time, a lot like this conversation. I don’t like coconut. I hate it when people cook in coconut oil because saying it’s tasteless is Bull.” You crossed your arms. “New drink or what?”

He stared at you for a while, then smiled softly. “You’re too good for this job, anyway. You should work for me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come work for me.”

“Repeating that doesn’t tell me what you’re saying.”

“I own a company. I need someone who can deal with trash like me and keep them away from me. You do not have to be polite to the trash either.” He leaned his chin on a propped-up fist. “Your job would quite honestly be saying what was on your mind and telling me and anyone else off.” He looked and sounded surprisingly sober compared to before.

“Please tell me you didn’t use piña coladas to test a potential hire.”

He grinned. “Not intentionally.”

I folded your arms, trying to gauge whether or not he was being serious. “You’re not saying this because you’re drunk, are you?”

“I’m not drunk!” He argued, eyes wide. “I’ve only had one glass of wine!”

You cringed. “At least tell me it was a large one.”

“N-not particularly.”

“Oh dude, either your acting is pretty on point, or you’re a serious lightweight and should stick to the non-alcoholic menu.” You shook your head.

His already flushed cheeks turned more red. “Wha—“ he huffed. “Do you want the job or not?”

You considered it, a little surprised you were even considering it, and shrugged. “Not sure I believe you still.”

He huffed and fumbled to pull out his wallet, fumbled more, then handed you a business card. “That’s me. Call or show up or anything. My personal cards are like golden tickets.”

You took the card warily.

The side of the cards facing you had a phone number in shimmering gold lettering, and the other side looked like a splash of summer colors—Bold black lettering spelling out his name and the name of the company.

“Hoseok Jung, CEO of HopeWorld Incorporated,” you read aloud, a little…skeptical. “If you are this person, what the heck do you want me for?”

“Honestly…I need someone sensible who won’t just try to stay on my good side. I need someone who will risk their job to threaten anyone that is being ridiculous with murder. I’m bad at that. I need a spiky person cause I’m just…I have things I’m strong on, but there are times when I just need someone to say things like they are. No bull.”

“And based on our interactions here, you think that’s me?”

He nodded. “I only played up the antics a bit.”

“Do you often hire your waitresses?”

He grinned. “No, but I have found most of my best people by chance. One other waiter, but I knew him before.”

“Your best people?”

“You’ve heard of my company?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Then you’ve heard the names Suga, RM, and V.”

You paused. “Yes.”

“Suga and I met at a club. RM and I met in a museum, and I met V when I was at an animal shelter.” He shrugged. “We had a good rapport. I offered them jobs. My friends over there are also part of my inner circle. It would have been better if you liked piña coladas, but you should still be okay with them.”

You stared over to where his friends were goofing off in the pool. Those idiot men were part of the inner circle of one of the biggest companies ever? The company that….

Two screeched as they went into the water, losing the game of chicken.

“They are part of your brain trust? Is the one even old enough for alcohol?”

“Yeah, he just tends to pick people up when he’s buzzed.”

“So, scandal prone.”

“No, no, I mean physically lift them. Usually just us. He’s not really a social person. Just us.”

“Ah.” You weren’t sure what to make of that.

“Actually—“

“Y/n! I’m not paying you to stand around!”

“With all due respect, sir, I’m done after I finish discussing our menu with this gentleman, Sir.” You called back, then turned to Hoseok. “How much would I be paid?”

“To start...how about $16 an hour?”

You stared at him. “$16 an hour?”

“Plus benefits, we have an excellent benefits program.”

“$16 an hour?” You repeated, a little shocked and numb. Plus benefits, even if you only worked there for a week, you’d be able to cover all of your expenses.

“Alright, okay, fine, $18 an hour—but no more than that until we know if it will work out. Then we can discuss raises. Deal?” He stuck his hand out.

You considered it for a moment, then shook his hand. “Right. Okay. When do I start?”

“Tomorrow, 8 a.m.”

You nodded. “Business dress?”

He shrugged, “If you like. Just dress nicely.”

You nodded. “Fine. Okay. See you then. I have a job to quit.”

He nodded with a smile. “I look forward to working with you.”

———

If you had thought that your means of obtaining this job had been strange, nothing had prepared you for your first day working there.

You had dressed well, wearing your favorite interview outfit because it was the nicest outfit you owned and you would be shopping later today so you knew what you needed to buy.

You entered the sleek looking building, and went to the reception desk. “Hello, I was told to come in today.” You pulled out the business card and showed it to the secretary.

Her eyes widened. “Whoa. You met Mr. Jung?”

“Uhm, yes. Yes I did. And he told me to come in today, at eight.”

“Right, okay, um, let me get you a temporary I.D.so you can get around today, and you’ll have to talk to H.R. later about your permanent one. Take this, and then head up to the top floor, he’ll want you to report straight to his office. At least, that’s what protocol states.”

You nodded, absorbing the information easily. “Top floor, his office, report to HR later for a permanent ID. Return this at the end of the day?”

“Yes, thank you, and good luck on your first day!” She practically sang, going back to her computer.

You slid the ID necklace over your head and went straight for the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor.

The way she spoke was almost like she had never met the CEO, which seemed unlikely to you, but maybe you were just misreading it.

The top floor was as quiet as the rest of the building, and you had a feeling most employees didn’t start until 9. But there was faint music coming from the biggest office—the CEO’s office.

You took a breath to steady yourself and then knocked on the door.

“Come on in, y/n!”

You shook your head slightly and did as told, walking into the office.

Entering the building, you had been pleasantly surprised by the way everything seemed light and airy, with bright splashes of color in appropriate amounts in the appropriate places, making it feel less like an office and more of a...you weren’t sure what it felt like, but it felt nicer than an office.

Entering Hoseok Jung’s office had a similar effect. There were knickknacks, but they weren’t overwhelming, and splashes of color were all throughout the room, but was balanced by a sort of modern elegance of his sleek office furniture and the immense natural lighting.

“Do you like it?”

You considered it all. “It’s not to my taste, but it is well balanced and I can appreciate the aesthetic.”

He grinned. “See, you’re already doing better.”

“The receptionist acts like she’s never seen you before.”

“Oh, well, most people only see J-Hope, one of the senior workers who reports directly to Mr. Jung. That’s how I got into the business to take it over from my father.” He shrugged. “Eventually, they’ll find out that J-Hope is me, but for now, J-Hope is well-liked. My ‘brain trust’ as you called them, will be here in about half an hour, which gives us time. Come on, I’ll show you to your office. Remember, it’s not your job to make friends, it’s your job to call things as you see them.”

You shrugged. “And if that means holding my tongue?”

“Then I trust you to say something later, when you deem the time to be right.”

“You know this is crazy, right?”

He grinned. “I know that you think it’s crazy, but I’m glad you’re telling me.”

You shook your head as you followed him out, noting that he wasn’t wearing a full suit. More like slacks and a shirt that wasn’t a button-up, but also wasn’t a plain t-shirt? Very loose-fitting, possibly a few sizes too big. His slacks weren't even slack, not really. Just grey, loose-fitting pants.

“You don’t dress much like a CEO.”

He chuckled. “I know. Jimin tells me that all the time, trust me, I do when I have to. But J-Hope likes loose clothing.”

You shook your head a bit.

“This will be your office.”

“It’s right next to yours.”

“Well, you are going to be my left-hand person. Left hand office.”

You followed him into the office that was way too good to be true.

“Obviously you can decorate it as you like, outside of the desk. The desk chair you get to choose from a magazine that we use for office supplies. We also ask that you don’t break any walls or windows.”

“I have a balcony,” you breathed.

“Yeah. There’s actually a door out there that connects our balconies, my side is pretty much never locked, but you can lock your side as well.”

“Like in hotels.”

“Yes.”

“So, if I'm your left, who’s your right?”

“Suga. Yoongi. You’ll like him, I think.” He picked up a random sticky note, looking amused. “Last guy didn’t clean out very well, sorry.”

“Shouldn’t a janitor have made it in here since?”

He paused. “Oh. Yes.”

“Which makes me wonder when the last time anything up here has been cleaned.” You ran a finger over the desk, nose wrinkling in disgust at the dust on your fingers.

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no no no.”

“I need to wash my hands,” You said, feeling a little contaminated. “Bathrooms.”

“This way.”

The bathrooms on the top floor were actual bathrooms, as in, one toilet and sink per room instead of the public bathroom style. There were three of them, mostly the same size, but one also had a larger vanity area with drawers under it.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to follow you in, but this bathroom is one that we usually keep locked, so if you want to keep makeup or other things in here, no one uses the third drawer over right now.” He tapped it. “You’ll be getting a key to it later today, so you can put it in later if you need to.”

You nodded, wrinkling your nose at the smell of the soap. “Oh, you’re kidding me. Piña colada soap?”

He chuckled, scratching his neck. “You can also bring in your own soap. Yoongi does. He just hasn’t replaced his yet.”

You shook your head. “Right.”

“If it helps, it’s only that during the summer.”

“What is it in winter? Eggnog?”

He shook his head. “Cinnamon rolls.”

“Are you all trying to psychologically torture yourselves?” You asked, drying your hands. “Piña coladas when you have to work, cinnamon rolls to make yourself hungry….”

Hoseok shrugged.

You sighed. “Alright. Where to now?”

“Morning meeting.” He waved for you to follow him, and led the way down to a conference room. “Jimin and Tae bring coffee and pastries and we go over our agendas and projects. Today that will include introducing you. I do have one thing to ask, and it might be inappropriate so if it is you can just hit me—“

“Or you could just not ask it.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Right. Yeah.”

You helped straighten the chairs, seeing the frown on his face at how disheveled the room was. “So, what will I be doing today, besides accompanying you to fire the janitor.”

He cringed. “Well, tour the company. Stop by HR. Meet the security team. Talk to the janitorial staff and threaten firing them to improve their work ethic. Then if that doesn’t work, yes, you will be there to help me fire people.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be the bad guy. You keep your J-Hope persona.” You sighed. “Really? No one caught onto you being the CEO with the name J-Hope?”

He just grinned again. “Best disguise is right under your nose.”

“The best disguise is an effective one that actually exists.”

“I’m glad I met you,” He responded with a light laugh.

“I’ve been criticizing you since I arrived.” You actually felt guilty about that, but only slightly. You weren’t about to lose sleep over it.

He just smiled. “You’ve been honest. I…I really missed honesty.”

“Your inner circle aren’t honest?”

“They are…but they’re…it’s different. Sometimes you need to shake things up. I think we all need shaking up.”

You frowned. “Okay. Level with me: what happened?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“What happened to make you think that things need to be shaken up?”

His face relaxed, eyes seeming to glaze as they shifted to the meeting table. “I…uh, I lost someone I cared about. You know that cruise ship disaster?”

You nodded. “HopeWorld donated a whole lot of money to cover the bills of those injured, and help cover funeral bills for others. Some people wondered if you guys had some sort of stock in the cruise ship or had been involved in the explosion, but you were just being kind. Plus by helping them out financially they could stand up to the cruise company.”

He shrugged, but also nodded. “And I needed a reason to be there. Looking.”

“Girlfriend or boyfriend?”

He choked out a laugh. “Yeah. And my sister and her husband. And my parents. I was supposed to join them at a different port.”

You felt like you’d been sucker-punched. “Oh my God.”

“Didn’t lose all of them. My dad is still in the hospital, Mom is home but she visits him everyday.” He rubbed his neck. “My sister's husband went back to work just a week ago, and he’s not having an easy time of it, but he’s pushing on. My sister hasn’t woken up yet, but we’re still hopeful. I hope she wakes up soon. She’s the other person I always relied on to be honest with me.”

You slowly nodded. “And your…significant other?”

“Idiot died. One of the lifeboats got stuck on release. Climbed out and cut the rope. Snapped back.” He shrugged again.

“Could have been worse,” You murmured, clenching a fist. You knew that description. You gave that description.

“Ok, this is one time when maybe you shouldn’t be honest.” He rubbed his forehead.

“Hey, my step-dad died because he thought he could swallow a golf ball and decided to try when no one was home. My younger brother tail-gated a semi. My father died from a sliver after saving eight school-age children.” You shrugged. “There are all sorts of ways to go out of this world. Doing the right thing…the heroic thing, that counts for a lot in my book. But there is such a thing as stupidly heroic.”

He stared at you wide-eyed. “A…golf ball?”

You shrugged. “I believe I implied that he wasn’t intelligent.”

Hoseok snorted and then started laughing. “I-I’m sorry!”

You smiled. “Good. Your brain trust will be here soon.”

“Did he…did he really…?”

“It was a little more complicated, and there was booze involved, but essentially, yes.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t sound so heartbroken.”

You shrugged. “Life goes on.”

“What does it go on from?” A new voice asked.

You turned to see one of the boys from the pool yesterday.

He looked you up and down, and offered a slight smile and his hand. “Hey. You must be the waitress that Hobi got so excited about hiring yesterday. I’m Taehyung, or, as the media knows me, V.”

You shook his hand. “Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you like Pina Coladas?” Taehyung asked, setting the box of what you assumed were pastries on the table.

“No.”

He froze a bit. “Really?”

“Really.”

“But...why? Wait...oh no...you don’t like them?” He stared at the box of pastries.

You looked at the box. “Let me guess, non-alcoholic pina colada donuts.”

“We don’t normally get them, I just saw them and I thought it’d be fun….” He looked completely dejected. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I ate breakfast anyway. I had an omelet, and I have a chocolate muffin in my packed lunch in my office. So, if you would like, I can get that and you can pretend you got it specially for me because I got it from the same shop.”

He gasped. “Their chocolate muffins are amazing.”

“Do you want me to pretend?”

He considered it a moment.

“He doesn’t want everyone to be eating and not you,” Hoseok chuckled. “He’s sweet like that.”

You nodded. “Did the door to my office get locked?”

Hoseok shook his head. “I left it open so that you could get in and out without your keys, and so we could send a janitor in after the meeting. Maybe put your things in our breakroom for now.”

You nodded sharply.

“I’ll get it, if that’s okay with you?” Taehyung said.

You shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

He bounced a bit as he raced out.

“Good job, offering to lie on your first day.” Hoseok looked amused.

“He looked like a kicked puppy. I’m honest, not abusive and heartless. Besides, it’s more to make him feel good. Most people would figure it out, right away.”

Hoseok nodded. “I guess so.”

“It doesn’t breach my not-yet-existing contract to lie, does it?”

He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t.”

Both of you fell quiet as Taehyung came back and slipped the muffin into the box of donuts (carefully).

Then several men arrived at about the same time.

“Hi, y/n! I’m Jimin, and I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got you a chocolate crème frappuccino. Is that okay?”

You nodded, smiling. “Sounds good. Thank you.” You took the cup and studied where they were sitting before taking a seat yourself--at the left hand of Hoseok--when he indicated for you to sit there.

“For the future, what do you normally drink?”

“This,” You answered, smiling. “I try to limit my caffeine intake.”

“Great, I’ll add it to my list and we can discuss alternatives later.” Jimin opened the donut box. “Tae, what have you done?”

“Pina colada donuts,” Tae answered, grinning. “And a muffin for y/n.”

Half of the boys had already grabbed a donut, or were in the process of doing so, but all seemed to freeze a bit.

“Why a muffin for y/n?”

“I don’t like coconut,” You answered, shrugging.

“Wait...at all?” One of them asked, eyes wide.

You sighed. “Nope. That is possible, you know. Just like I’m sure the odds are in my favor that at least one of you doesn’t like seafood. One of you probably doesn’t like coffee, one of you probably doesn’t like tea, and a few of you probably don’t like mint ice-cream.”

They all seemed to be surprised and yet also guilty.

“Well….”

One huffed. “Why did you hire her again? She doesn’t even like pina coladas.”

“Not everyone does,” Hoseok replied easily. “Shall we start our morning download?”

You studied the others as they dug into their donuts, wondering where the odd obsession with pina coladas came from--not for the first time. But they weren’t the only people you’d ever met with the obsession, and you doubted they would be the last.

“Besides, it can’t hurt us to look at things other than pina coladas.”

“Please,” One of them grumbled. “I don’t want to get sick of them.”

“Fine. Then let me ask this,” the huffy one asked. “Y/n, what is your beverage of choice?”

You met his gaze evenly, calculating all of the answers he could expect and all of the answers you could give him. But one stuck out as particularly perturbing for someone like him and a situation like this.

You leaned forward, smiled slightly, and answered, “Water.”

His eyes widened and he spluttered. “Water?”

“Water,” You confirmed cheerfully. “If I have to choose anything, I choose water.”

“Great, you can be the designated driver,” Taehyung joked, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Huffy sat down, looking like he lost five years off of his life. “No way can we do a water theme….”

“If we could get back to what we’re being paid to be here for, that’d be great,” You said, in a tone that was too sweet to be honest.

Hoseok chuckled a little. “Right. Y/n is here to keep things...possible and practical. Her job is to be bluntly and brutally honest about things. After she gets a feel for this place, I’m sure she’ll feel more comfortable giving us all a piece of her mind. She’ll be shadowing me as J-Hope, and I’m not going to announce her job title for a while.”

“Because you don’t know what to call my job?”

“Pretty much. Anyway, as you guys know, we’re...running a little thin right now, and that’s on me. We’re going to be tightening up the ship, and making sure we’re running properly. Jimin, I need finances from across the company. Tae, I need all of the reports from HR. Jin and Jungkook, I want a list and summary of all of the projects we’re working on right now. Yoongi and Namjoon: keep working on that one project. Anything I need to know right now?”

“We have that event tomorrow, with the food trucks, and we need to decide on the judges.”

“Okay, so, we let everyone who wants to judge put their name on a list, then we’ll draw names from a hat. Jimin’s on the judgement panel as well.”

“I am?”

“You’ll eat anything, the rest of us are too picky. And Jungkook will be filming.” Hoseok made a couple of notes. “I have to talk to our janitorial staff, and y/n will be with me. They haven’t been cleaning up here like they’re supposed to. Y/n’s office was disgusting, and this room was a mess.”

“Uh oh. Firing anyone?”

“He wants to see if talking to them will fix the issue first,” You said dryly. “Which, in my experience, is a waste of time. There’s always someone dragging their feet and I bet if we looked through the HR reports, or even sent me in under cover for a few hours, we’d be able to pinpoint the weak link and remove it from the chain.”

“She’s got a point. I could take her down and tell them she’s doing some work in each department. We’ve done that before, for people who were actually working for one of the departments.” Jimin clicked his pen a couple of times.

Hoseok considered it a moment while he worked on a bite of his donut, then nodded. “Alright. Then we’ll do that. You might need different clothing. If it takes more than a couple of hours, don’t worry about it. If this works, we’ll put you in different departments as though you were experiencing everything. Because I think we need a spy in the HR department as well. Plus anything you find about employee welfare and happiness, that’s always a good thing. We’ll say you’re one of Jimin’s random hires. Get it done.”

Jimin nodded, then checked you over. “They’ll give her a uniform, so we don’t need to worry about her clothing. Maybe just fix your hair so that you look more like ‘random girl’ instead of  ‘sophisticated lady’.”

“Did you just call me a lady?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Jimin shrugged.

“Anyway, finish things here, then y/n dress down and we’ll discuss your work later today. You’ll eat lunch with us, Jimin, make sure to mention that.” Hoseok wrote a couple more things down. “I’ll be in my office, reviewing things. I’ll let you know at lunch what the real plan is. We’re gonna change things.”

“Okay,” Huffy said firmly. “That’s that then. Donuts done, coffee drunk, work to do. Off we go. The sooner we work, the sooner we finish, the sooner we can get a drink.”

That seemed to be the signal for everyone to get up and get moving.

You followed Jimin out, letting him lead you to the bathroom. “Sophisticated lady?”

“Make your hair more casual, maybe remove some of your makeup. And lose the jacket.”

You sighed and did as you were told as he disappeared for a moment, returning with a different shirt and a sweater.

“Try these.”

You looked at them, a little concerned.

“They’re clean, trust me. And they’re more casual than what you’re wearing.”

You waved him out of the room again, changing into the new shirt and sweater, a little disturbed at how well they fit. “Where did you get these?” You asked, opening the door again.

“Someone left them behind. Can’t remember when, can’t remember who, just remember they didn’t work here.” He checked his own hair while you switched your hair from a bun to a nice-looking pony-tail. “Can’t even remember why her shirt and sweater were left behind. Think she borrowed one of mine?”

You stared at him. “Did you sleep with this girl?”

He turned back to you with a half-smile. “No. I was drunk, but no. My boyfriend at that time wouldn’t have been too thrilled.”

“Do you have baggage about said boyfriend as your friend does about the significant other that he lost?” You asked, studying the impish man in front of you.

Jimin’s smile died a bit. “Told you about that, did he?”

“More or less. Focused more on the ones that survived rather than the one that died. So, baggage: yes or no?”

Jimin came and stood right in front of you, then moved closer, reaching and closing the bathroom door, locking it.

You clenched a fist, just in case.

“Baggage...yes. Same ship. All of us, the whole board, everyone in there. My boyfriend...we were at the point of breaking up anyway, so I feel guilty about that, because he wouldn’t have been there if I had. Hoseok was going to propose. Namjoon’s childhood friend. Yoongi’s girlfriend was paralyzed, and her brain...she only recognizes her family and she’s...not doing well. Two of Taehyung’s friends. Jungkook’s brother. Seokjin’s whole family, except his nephew. He jokes about drinking, but he really just wants to get to the daycare at a decent time. If he knows he has to stay late, he has a babysitter that brings his nephew here. Hoseok feels a lot of responsibility because he was the one who suggested we have a board retreat and invite family and friends. Seokjin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook were all there when it happened. Myself, Yoongi, and Hoseok were delayed because of an emergency on a project we were heading up.”

You nodded slowly. “Got it. So, this company is being run by seven people who have undergone a whole lot of trauma and grief in the past six months. That doesn’t sound at all like a recipe for disaster.” Eight, a little voice whispered, eight if you’re included.

Jimin nodded a bit. “Right. What did you lose in that accident?”

You held his gaze steadily. “The will to please others with false actions and honeyed words.”

Jimin’s head tilted slightly and his eyes narrowed just a bit.

“My older brother worked on that ship, one of the engineers. He’d been filing reports like a good little worker bee about some of the issues they were seeing, but the reports were being ignored. He was threatened, and told to keep quiet if he wanted to keep his job. He told me, I told him to fight, to make sure no one got on that damn ship.”

“But he didn’t,” Jimin whispered, gaze shifting away from you.

“But I gave the people suing that company everything they needed to win their case, especially with HopeWorld providing the financial means for everyone to fight. It was serious neglect on their part, but even I was too pliant to do anything about it. So I’m done. I’m done trying to please others and put up with their crap and if you don’t unlock that door, I’m sorry, but I might punch you.”

He unlocked it. “Right. Sorry.”

“I’ve been dealing with too many thugs from the cruise company. That’s why I was job hunting. That’s why I got that job at the bar. It was a favor that a friend called in from the owner, but they both thought I was a bad fit. I was just desperate. And then Hoseok came in drunk on one glass of wine and complaining about a virgin pina colada.”

“That’s why he wouldn’t stop talking about virgins,” Jimin muttered. “He kept saying something about virgins being confident, and that he wished he was that confident, and that he was joking about not ordering virgins and it was all weird.”

“He should not be allowed to drink.”

“Well, normally he’s a sober and sleepy drunk, so, yesterday was a bit of an outlier. Happiest I’d seen him in a while, though. Especially after he met you.” He was studying you again.

“If you have something to say, then say it. I told you, I’m not waiting around for BS.”

“You’re not like the person he lost, I can tell that right away. But you’re the first person he’s shown...interest in. I guess I’m just curious about what he saw that intrigued him so much.”

“My winning personality and barbed words,” You answered, then grabbed your wallet from your purse and tucked it into your pocket, shoving the purse into the empty drawer that Hoseok had pointed out earlier. “What was the person he lost like?”

“Soft, a little...out-there, artistic, wild dreamer, adventurous, spontaneous,” Jimin listed, then shrugged. “Different.”

You paused to look at Jimin again. “When you said he’s taken an interest in me, did you mean….”

“Possibly romantically. Not definite, but there’s always a few different paths interest in other people can take us, isn’t there. If you’re anything like I’m assuming you are, you’d actually be a good match for him.” Jimin walked out. “Now, come on. We’ve got work to do.”

-----

-----

You were undercover in HopeWorld for a week before you finally were able to return and start moving into your office--having turned in a twenty-page report on your findings while working undercover.

And it was spotlessly clean this time, and there was a computer there. It was even sporting a nice, new plant in the one corner with a card that read it was from all of the other board members.

The winky-face said that Taehyung had been in charge of delivering it and writing the note.

So you set to unpacking the small box of office supplies that you were bringing in.

You were getting a corkboard and a whiteboard later, plus two more chairs so that anyone else in your office could sit down (or you could switch seats through the day if you needed to), and you definitely planned on bringing some more plants here since it got more sunlight than your tiny flat did.

So you unpacked a couple of empty binders, sheafs of paper, a few notebooks, your new pens and pencils, and your pen and pencil holders. You set a photo-frame on your desk. You pulled out a bottle of lotion and put it in one of your desk drawers.

And that’s where you found the photo of Hoseok with the person that had to be his lover.

“Of course,” You murmured, sighing, then you set the photo aside to return to him at your meeting later.

In the past week, you’d gotten a pretty good read on most of the boys, even Yoongi.

But Seokjin was distant, and kept you distant. He didn’t stick around on the days you were in what was technically his department, instead finding an excuse to be elsewhere.

Taehyung and Jimin had both shrugged when you told them that Seokjin was avoiding you.

“Don’t see why he would,” Jimin said, and you knew he was being honest.

It was fine. The boys weren’t your job anyway. Your job was to look at things practically, find problems or potential problems, and present them to people who could fix them. Your job was to question everything so that every eventuality is considered and the best product of the workers' time is produced.

“That’s not a very big box for such a big office.”

You jumped and dropped the stapler, but jumped back so that it wouldn’t staple you on accident (something that had, unfortunately, happened before). “You trying to give me a heart attack?”

Seokjin shrugged, strolling in casually and picking it up. “Not my intention.”

“Then what is your intention?” You asked, wondering what could have brought the illusive man to your office before the morning meeting. According to the others, and your own experiences, he was always just barely on time for the meeting.

He just looked at you carefully. “Can I ask you a question, and get an honest answer?”

“Fire away,” You replied, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

He moved closer so he was looking you in the eye. “Why did you take this job?”

You frowned a bit, stepping back and trying to figure out why he was asking that. But also, how to answer.

“Please answer honestly.”

“Jimin told you about my brother, the cruise ship?”

“Yes. He told all of us, Hoseok too. Hoseok had his suspicions. I don’t think they know that you were on the ship as well.”

You huffed out a laugh and leaned against your desk. “Good. I don’t need any of that nonsense.”

He nodded. “You were answering my question.”

You took a deep breath and then released it, looking at the ceiling. “Desperation. Have to pay the rent. And he seemed...optimistic.” There was something appealing to that optimism. Something familiar and comfortable. Refreshing.

“What did he tell you your job was going to be?”

“Dealing with trash that tried to get near him.”

“What’s on your resume?”

“Nothing to make me qualify for this office. And if you think I’m here because I’m taking advantage of his kindness...I can’t say that you’re wrong, but I’m also just curious about what he intends for me. Don’t think that I enjoy saying that someone is dead weight. They’re people, and they need to make a living somehow, but they need to make that living honestly. THere are people who want jobs, who need jobs, who are actually willing to put in the work.”

“So, going undercover…?”

“It was a solution that would alleviate the feelings of guilt that our boss might have felt if we hadn’t fully investigated and ended up firing someone. Besides, he strikes me as a bit of a neat freak, so I figure the janitorial staff should be top-notch. I did hear a rumor that J-Hope had liberated a cleaning cart and taken it to the top floor, though.”

Jin sighed, shaking his head. “He really hasn’t trusted the cleaning staff since your first day.”

“Lovely. Did he clean this office?”

“Gotta admire his work ethic.”

You shook your head. “So, I’m not the only person who’s almost completely in the dark about what my job actually is, am I?”

“I think he keeps rethinking what he wants for you.”

“And you’ve been avoiding me because…?”

He shrugged a bit. “I haven’t. It’s been a bad week for my nephew. I’ve been in and out of the office all week. Plus I’ve been working with Hobi.”

You both jumped as someone banged on your office door.

Hoseok threw it open with a grin, then halted, surprised. “Oh, hyung.”

“Hey, Hoseok-y. Y/n and I were just talking. I’ll leave you two to discuss y/n’s job. Because I think we’re all confused about it.” Seokjin took one of your paperclips and left.

Hoseok looked after him in confusion. “Did he ask if he could take that paperclip?”

“Um, no, but it’s just a paperclip. You read the report?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Good work on that. Sorry you were thrown into it so soon after starting.”

“You mean my first day.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Your first day. So, I’ve figured out what your story is going to be.”

“My story?”

“Whenever a higher-up is brought in, they’re presented to the company. There are already rumors about a higher-up being brought into Mr. Jung’s board, and it’s extremely unorthodox for us to not present you within the first two weeks. So, we’ve got a couple days leeway to get you settled into your actual job.”

“I’m pretty sure that was part of my actual job.”

“Right. Anyway, I thought we might tell people that you’re the eyes and ears of Mr. Jung, and that one of your jobs is ensuring that we are at top potential.”

“Ok.”

“Which is basically what we already said, but I want to make it clear that you are in direct communication with HR and all reports go to you at the end of the day. I’m just having trouble coming up with your title.”

“Quality manager?”

He paused. “Ok, you’re really good. How have you not worked in a job like this before?”

“Hard times, big sacrifices. So, if I’m understanding things correctly, you want me to look through the reports on behaviors and such and make sure they’re looked into and that we’re paying attention, but also you want me to check in on projects and make sure we’re asking all the right questions.”

“Exactly. Quality manager is an excellent way of describing that job. But also, your job is to keep people from trying to see Mr. Jung. Mr. Jung has enough on his plate.”

You nodded. “I can do that. Shall we practice? I read through the notes on that memory core device.”

He grinned. “Sounds great. But first, the morning meeting.”

You nodded. “Thank you for cleaning my office, by the way.”

He just smiled back. “I can’t stand messes.”

“I gathered. You’ve got a pretty big one downstairs, though.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of dreading firing people though.”

“Then let me handle it. You can be there as a known authoritative figure and I’ll do the talking.”

“They might get mad at you for spying.”

“Then I trust you to handle their subsequent anger appropriately. I’ll try to keep things professional.”

“Thanks.”

“For?”

“Even offering to do any of this. I wasn’t really ready to take on the boss position. But I can’t sit by while people abuse their place in this company. I have to deal with the messes. My family didn’t build this legacy for me to let it fall apart.” His gaze was darker, but held determination to continue forward. A sternness to see things through.

The side of J-Hope that was the CEO of HopeWorld.

“I think once you get over the first trials you’ll be just fine.”

He looked at you in surprise. “You think?”

“I believe,” you amended. “I believe you are capable of being a great leader. I believe even though you are generous and compassionate, you will be able to handle the harder parts of this job for the good of the many employees who are doing their jobs to the best of their ability. Because that’s what it means when people are fired. The waste they accumulate is returned to the company and those that are still with it can benefit, or others who need the job take it and actually accomplish it. You’re improving efficiency, which makes the company prosper so you can do more for your employees.”

He slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”

You nodded. “Look at me: I could actually afford a new work outfit.”

He grinned, looking you over. “And it’s a great outfit.”

Okay. You hadn’t expected that.

“Are you implying something inappropriate?”

“Never. I just think it’s a very appropriate look and that it is very good at accentuating your good looks. You’re very good at shopping.”

You weren’t. Not really. Taehyung and Jimin had tagged along and helped you shop because you weren’t sure what would be best for the job and position. You had picked the items out, but Jimin and Taehyung had helped you style them together and decide on them.

“Sounds inappropriate to me.”

He chuckled. “Can’t you just take the compliment? It’s early.”

“If you compliment me, people might think that you’re showing favoritism.”

“Let them,” He answered easily, shrugging and holding the door open for you.

“Are you drunk again? I told you, you really shouldn’t drink.” You folded your arms.

He just laughed. “In. We’re late.”

“If we are, it’s your fault,” You replied, walking in and waving to the other men.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t dream of blaming you. Morning, everyone.” Hoseok took his seat. “What’s the day look like?”

“Same as yesterday, except whatever you and y/n are up to. My project is almost ready to present, Seokjin’s coming to help me today.”

“I do have my nephew today, he’s having a bad day,” Seokjin said quietly, making notes.

“That’s fine,” Hoseok said firmly, Namjoon merely nodding. “People like seeing him, and we’ve always said that kids are welcome as long as they don’t disturb others.”

“And he can come to my office anytime,” Taehyung said with a fond grin.

Seokjin nodded. “I have a meeting with my division just before lunch?”

Taehyung grinned. “We can color!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Work, Taehyung. He can color, you can design.”

“Right. Right. That.”

“I need Yoongi-hyung’s help on the memory-core project.”

Hoseok looked mildly intrigued, glancing at you.

“I can head down after I check on my project. Might be an hour or so.” Yoongi checked his watch.

Hoseok nodded. “And we’ll be there in about two hours so that Y/n can look things over as my second set of eyes.”

Jungkook looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “O-oh, o-o-okay.”

The others looked mildly surprised, but quickly moved on.

“I’ll be on phone meetings to organize that event most of the morning. Our employees really enjoyed the food truck war, and it’s summer, so I think it’s best to try and have enjoyable events as frequently as possible during the weeks we can’t give them 3-day weekends.” Jimin twirled his pen as he spoke, looking over something on his planner.

“I’ll leave it in your hands, just don’t go over budget.” Hoseok jotted a few things down. “Okay. Y/n and I have to deal with some unsatisfactory employees, then we’ll be down to see how things are going with the memory core. Not sure about our afternoon, but I might leave that for her to settle in. How does that sound to you?”

“If ‘settle in’ means looking over reports, then that sounds fine.”

He nodded, flipping his book closed. “Alright. Then off we go.”

You got up and followed him out, and into the elevator.

“It’ll be best to go to them since it would draw a lot of attention to bring them up. We need the head of janitorial service with us as well, and I want to apprise her of what’s going to happen before we do it. You were smart to record the conversation, I’ll present that to Chiseul.”

Chiseul had been in charge of sanitation at the company for eight years, she was kind, but firm and had no patience for slacking. When you’d worked under her, even for a day, you could tell she expected the best. She had put who she thought were her best people in charge of cleaning the top floor, but instead they had been doing very basic cleaning and actually stealing from the company.

Her reaction to finding out was silent fury. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fire them?”

“We believe that it’s best for us to handle it, that way others will know that they can’t pull anything. I’m sorry we deceived you,” You said respectfully, because you did respect her. You’d put in your report that she should get a raise.

Hoseok nodded. “We will be implementing a system to keep people accountable soon.”

She accepted that with a sharp nod and then went to call those who would be fired into her office.

Hoseok groaned as soon as the elevator doors closed. “That could have gone better.”

------

You held the ice to your face and shrugged. “Could have gone worse. Security stepped in at the appropriate time. And I didn’t fight back, which means I can’t be charged with assault should they try anything like that. There were also multiple witnesses.”

“But you got hurt,” He argued, rubbing his face. “You got hurt.”

“So, I’ll have a black eye. I walk to work, so it’s not like I’ll be driving while mildly impaired. We got ice on it pretty quickly, and I don’t think it will end up being too bad of a black eye.”

“You got hurt,” He whispered.

“And I’m fine. Hoseok, we’re on our way to look over a major project in your company. Pull yourself together.” You reached over and straightened his collar. “It’s a bruise, not a fatal wound.”

He caught your wrist, holding you in place so he could move the ice pack with his other hand and see, the whole time his expression holding worry and what might have been nausea. “Why would they attack you? I was there too. Why would they only attack you?”

He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t listening.

“Betrayal,” You answered anyway, sighing a little and forcing the ice-pack back to your face.

“Uh, you two coming out of there or do you need another moment?” Yoongi asked, an eyebrow raised as he looked between you, not seeming to care that he’d startled both of you since you’d been too busy looking at one another to realize the elevator was open. But his gaze stuck on the ice pack. “Shit, they hit you?”

“Don’t you start too,” You groaned, exiting the elevator.

Hoseok stopped you, pulling you back so he could look at your eye again. “Hyung, look at her eye.”

Yoongi frowned a bit more, but complied. His eyes widened a bit. “Uh…infirmary.”

“Thought so.” Hoseok pulled you back into the elevator.

“Oh, come on,” You groaned.

Yoongi just shushed you. “Your eye looks bloody.”

“Oh.” Well, that was special. It didn’t especially hurt, but that might be because you were numbing the area.

But Hoseok ended up taking you to the hospital for evaluation.

As the two of you walked out of the hospital, you sighed for the fortieth time. “Told you I was fine.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“He said that I should be fine and to come back in if my eye gets worse or I start having other issues. It was probably her ring that got me.” You glanced at your watch. “Man, I’m not going to experience a regular workday, am I?”

His head dropped. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault. I’d probably get bored if it got too quiet. And feeling sorry doesn’t do any good. You didn’t hurt me, so you’re wasting energy by being sorry.”

“I know, but I got you into this job—“

“Are you thirsty?” You asked, stopping.

“What?”

“Are you thirsty?” You asked slowly.

“Um, I guess?”

You nodded and pulled him into the restaurant, dragging him to the bar.

“I don’t think you should have alcohol—“

“Hi, can I get a water with lemon and a Piña colada?” You asked the bartender, ignoring Hoseok. You had no intention of drinking, but Hoseok was so tense it was making you tense.

He stared at the piña colada. “What?”

“Drink. You’re driving me crazy. You need to relax and I doubt you’re going to do it on your own. I’ll make sure you don’t end up in a back alley.” You patted his hand.

“So…if you could drink, what would it be?” He asked.

“Probably a gimlet, with extra lime. But like I said, my preferred drink is water. I like to keep my head clear. There’s less golf-ball swallowing.”

He snorted and choked on his second sip of his drink.

You patted his back as he tried to recover from choking, and he was laughing in between coughing which wasn’t helping at all.

The bartender was looking concerned.

“His wife left him for his sister and his brother in law confessed his love to him, it’s a royal mess,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

Hoseok died a little more. “Stop,” He gasped, finally just laughing.

“It’s not my fault he thinks your butt is cute.”

He collapsed off of the stool, thudding to the ground and laughing harder.

“Man, two sips and you’re already drunk. You better not ask me if I like that nastiness again.”

He got up with your help, starting to calm down. “I won’t ask that.”

“Good. But seriously, I’m cutting you off. You’re too much of a lightweight.” You settled the bill with some extra for the bartender, then guided him toward the door.

But both of you stopped at the door.

“It’s raining?” Hoseok asked, still a little breathless.

“It would appear so.” You looked up at the sky.

“Do you like getting caught in the rain?” He asked quietly, holding out his hand.

You laughed softly, taking his hand. “I actually really do.”

“Really?” He smiled as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Really,” You confirmed, looking out at the rain with a little excitement.

“You might ruin your clothing.”

“Clothing washes, as do I.” You tugged and pulled him out into the rain, giggling as the rain started soaking into you.

He laughed as well, looking less comfortable in the rain, but like he was willing to let you lead him through it.

No.

Like he would follow you into anything.

“Why did you offer me the job?” You asked.

He met your gaze with surprise.

“Why me?”

He smiled at you, stepping closer so he could be heard. “I couldn’t say goodbye.”

You tilted your head.

“I couldn’t say goodbye to you, not at that time, and I don’t know why, but I’m trying to figure it out.”

You could work with that.

Hoseok touched your cheek, then moved in.

You knew your eyes were a little wide.

He gave a slight smile and then leaned in to kiss you.

You allowed it, and you didn’t regret it as his lips met yours. It was…new. Different. Right.

Except for one tiny detail.

You pushed him away gently. “Okay. But you need a new go-to drink because I forgot to mention I’m actually allergic to coconut, so, I’m gonna take some allergy meds now.”

His eyes widened. “I like mimosas and daiquiri.”

You nodded, swallowing an allergy pill. “Great. We won’t kill me, then.”

“How allergic are you?”

You shrugged. “I should be fine now.”

“Okay.”

“So, if you want to kiss me, we can do that again.”

He met your gaze, smiling. “That sounds like a bad idea.”

You rolled your eyes, then pulled him in. “Kiss me.”

He grinned. “Man, I love your honesty.”

And in the rain, you kissed your piña colada man, ignoring what might happen in your future.

“Might not be a permanent job, my judgement might be clouded. I might show favoritism.”

“Then call me a consultant pending permanent employment and depending where this takes us we’ll…let the others decide my fate.”

“Works for me. Let me walk you home. Where do you live?”

You gestured vaguely. “That way. About fifteen minutes from your building. Work. Place.”

“When you said you were a virgin—”

“I never said I was a—walk. We’re getting soaked standing here like idiots and I hear thunder.” You started walking, keeping hold of his hand. “That or I start reevaluating what parts you really need.”

He laughed. “You know what’s funny?”

“No.”

“When you’re actually being honest, your hands relax, and when you’re bluffing, they get all tense.”

Huh.

“What is your biggest concern with the memory core?”

You considered it for a moment. “It could just be a matter of wording.”

“That’s still important.”

“The proposal suggests imprinting all of the memories of the player onto the memory core so that full immersion is more stimulating.”

“Right.”

“But it’s wording makes it sound like the game is replacing their memories. Imagine someone overwrites the data: what happens when the player tries to re-immerse themselves?”

He was quiet for a while. “That…could be….”

“Disastrous. This machine is supposed to work with your brain, but corrupted files could shut the brain down or damage it. It is incredibly dangerous if I’m understanding it correctly.”

“It could hurt people. We have to tick every box. And come up with fail safes.”

“To me, it’s not worth the risk. But that’s why I wanted to talk to them, to make sure I was understanding things.” You gestured to a building. “This is me.”

He nodded, only following when you tugged on his hand. “Are you sure you want me—”

“We’re soaked and the wind is picking up, and—” lightning flashed through the sky, “the storm is getting worse. We’ll call you a cab or something.”

“Right. Inside. Good idea.”

You ditched your shoes the moment you got in, rushing to the bathroom to grab towels so the two of you didn’t drip all over everything. “It’s a bit hot in here, sorry, my AC broke.”

“Just means we’re not going to get chilled,” He answered, taking the towel and looking around. “It’s nice.”

You glanced around as well. You’d opted for minimalism since that was the only way to make the place not feel claustrophobic. “It does the job.”

“So, you’re allergic to coconut?”

“Mostly the consumption, but I do have mild reactions externally as well.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Coconut hair treatment with my friend when I was fifteen. They had to cut my hair off because my scalp blistered and broke out and it was…traumatizing. But that was because it was coconut oil right against my skin for over an hour, undiluted. My daily allergy meds help if I happen to use, I don’t know, soap with coconut in it.” You put the kettle on the stove since you were feeling kind of chilled. “Tea?”

“Sure.” He started examining the photos on your wall (all three of them). “So, if I hadn’t been the last straw for that job, where do you think you’d be right now?”

“Dumping a scotch-neat on my boss’s head, if not down his pants, after quitting and looking for a job with less drunk people. My boss was drunk, my coworkers were drunk, everyone was drunk, except me. Do you know how surreal that feels?”

“And yet you accepted a job from me, someone who was drunk?”

“So you admit it,” You pointed out.

He rubbed his neck. “I usually only drink in the evenings, it generally makes me sleepy.”

“You had caffeine with your alcohol, then.”

“Accidentally.”

“That would explain the whole ‘why is the rum always gone’ debacle.”

He was very red looking in profile, but that could have been the lighting. “Yeah. I was embarrassed as I did it and yet I didn’t stop. Stupid.”

“If I hadn’t been having a terrible night, I probably would have enjoyed the reference, honestly. But, as you put it, you were the last straw. I would probably be applying to fast food right about now if it hadn’t been you.” You watched him studying your photos far longer than they were worth studying. “Are my photos that interesting?”

“These three were the ones you consciously decided to display, which means they mean something to you.”

You thought about that for a moment, thinking about all of the photos of families that the people you’d worked under while spying had shown you. Always the kids, always the wife, always the beloved pet.

But Hoseok had no photos in his office.

“You don’t keep any photos visible in your office, and office photos are, arguably, the ones that provide the most insight into people,” You countered, sitting on the floor with the tray of tea on the coffee table.

He joined you on the floor. “It’s a precaution. I keep the photos in J-Hope’s desk, the locked drawer. I’m surprised you noticed, though.”

“I wouldn’t have, but people kept shoving their photos in my face and if they weren’t, then I was redirecting their attention to their photos so I would get away with my snooping. People like to talk about themselves.”

He was watching you, a soft smile on his face. “You really are something else.”

You shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you there.”

“We could hide it, you know. Us, whatever we are?”

“Professional flirtation,” You guessed, holding the mug and surprised at how cold your fingers had been. “Workday dalliance?”

“Wow, um, anyway, we could just not tell anyone about us.”

“9 to 5 lovers,” You quipped, trying to come up with more.

“Are you purposefully ignoring me?”

“Ye-es,” You dragged out, trying to think of another thing to call it.

“You don’t think we could?”

“I think the boys would figure it out before the morning meeting ended.”

“Oh, right, I didn’t mean from the boys.”

“Oh, ok, please continue.” You leaned on your hand and watched him.

“We stay away from anything unprofessional at work, with the exception of in private, and we make sure no one catches on. Then, when I officially take my position...we reevaluate where we are and adjust accordingly.”

“Officially take your position?”

“Technically, I’m not yet the CEO, my father is, but I’ve been acting CEO for about three years.”

He didn’t add that they had been the most prosperous three years of the company’s history, but maybe he was trying to stay humble.

“So, once he’s better and we finish a few things, he’ll hand over things to me officially. In front of the company.”

“Revealing that J-Hope is actually his son and everyone’s boss.”

He nodded. “Which would also be revealing that you have been working for me.”

“All of which could be potentially disastrous.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I bet you’d say I should have been open about it the whole time.”

“Not at all. I think this was the best course of action. Everyone respects J-Hope, they like him. They like his work ethic, they like how he listens, and they like how he cares. They like how bright and cheerful he is. They don’t know if they can trust their CEO, but they know that the board has been taking care of them and the CEO has been allowing it. They’re curious, and a little apprehensive.” You remembered all of the conversations you’d had over the week.

But one stuck out to you.

You’d been getting coffee with one of the employees in the marketing department, discussing the company and it’s leadership.

“I don’t know about the CEO. Or, well,” She flustered for a second. “I don’t know why he feels the need to hide from us. His father never did, but maybe there’s a plan. Every now and then, they have someone who sort of...scopes things out. They had me in project development for a couple of weeks so that I could tell them what I thought of the person that was testing the projects. That person was Mr. Jeon.”

You’d tilted your head, confused.

“Jeon Jungkook, he’s one of the board members, the youngest board member. He’s really good at catching on, which makes him a prime test subject for things that are about to be released. We can’t bring people in, not often, because information tends to get leaked. He’s been a godsend to the company. Mr. Jung found him, too, he’s found just about every top employee, and all of the board members--except J-Hope. He worked his way up through the company, and then impressed Mr. Jung Sr. and was given a job on the board. He looks after employee welfare and we’ve had an amazing increase in our benefits program ever since. It’s a shame Mr. Jung Jr. didn’t start out like J-Hope.”

“What’s that look for?”

You jumped a bit, refocusing on him. “All of the things that J-Hope has done are your accomplishments. You’ve improved the benefits program, upgraded the retirement package, made sure that everyone has received pay increases, and you worked your way up through the company. Your intellect lies in people, and your devotion to your job as their employer has inspired loyalty to you. I’m not saying you should go out tomorrow and reveal that you’re Mr. Jung Jr.”

“Do they really call me that?” He cringed.

“But you shouldn’t fear...telling them who you are. Yes, it could cause problems, but only momentarily. Until then, you want me to help you deal with trash and question everything so that the ship is running tightly when the official transfer happens. Right?” You asked, sitting up straight. “That way if anything happens with stocks, or the market, the company is running smoothly and will stay afloat.”

“You have a business degree, don’t you?”

“I never graduated,” You corrected easily. “But I did study some business, yes. This is what you want from me, correct?”

“Yes. I need you to tell me to suck it up when I hesitate.”

“Okay. Did you read my report on the other departments?”

He nodded slowly.

“Then I suggest you decide what should be done to those employees, and what you’re actually willing to do. Because I outlined my suggestions for each of them, but ultimately, it is up to you. You want to run a tight ship, you need to get rid of excess crew, which sounds terrible, but it’s true. If they’re not doing their job, they have no reason to be on deck. And some of them were on the wrong decks.”

He nodded. “I’ll review it once more, but we’ll probably go with your suggested actions.”

“Okay. Glad we understand each other.” You grabbed your phone, checking it. “Taehyung wants to know if I’m alive, and if I’m alive, is Hoseok alive as well.”

“Crap,” He went into his pocket. “Oh. They just wanted to go drinking. Taehyung is our usual designated driver. He’s not a big drinker like Jungkook and Jimin. I’m going to ask him to swing by and pick me up. If that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know how you felt about where you lived. You’re kind of hard to read.”

“I live here, I pay the rent, it’s small, but it’s mine. Or were you referring more to a bunch of men knowing where I, a single woman, lived?”

“The latter.”

“Ah, sweet of you to be concerned, but Jimin’s already seen my place.”

“He has?” Hoseok frowned.

“He dropped me off after we went shopping. None of the stores had bathrooms. Nature called.” You shrugged.

“I don’t like that,” Hoseok muttered, obviously more to himself.

“You don’t like that he had to use the bathroom? Or that we went shopping together? Because, technically, he was the only board member I was allowed to be seen with as one of his employment experiments.” You pointed out, waiting for him to pull himself together and continue texting Taehyung. “Also, you might want to text him before it’s too late.”

“That he saw your house.”

“Interesting. Text Taehyung,” You instructed carefully. “Before you have to pay for a cab.”

He did, but he was frowning the whole time.

You rolled your eyes. “Jimin was here for all of five minutes. I doubt he could even tell you what color the walls in the bathroom are.”

“Color,” He muttered, getting up and heading to the small hall.

“Um….”

“Purple. Walls are purple. Take that.”

“Oh my god, there is no way you’re even buzzed, why are you acting weird?”

“Purple. Blue. White. Three pictures.”

You rolled your eyes, and shook your head. “Weirdo. I mean, I knew that, only weird people like pina coladas--”

He caught you and kissed you again. “Don’t let Jimin in. He’s a minx. He’s a fox. That magic trickster fox that seduces you. A succubus.”

“Incubus,” you corrected. “Which is a sort of demon. Magical fox thing is a kitsune. You’re mixing your mythologies.”

“You’re so smart,” He said, but he said it in a sort of happy, sighing way while looking at you so softly and gently and adoringly….

You believed him.

He touched your cheek, then quickly pulled his hands away. “Alright. How about a rule?”

“Depends on the rule,” You replied.

“You have good judgement, and self control,” His gaze shifted to your eye, and his fingers brushed the edge of the bruising with a feather-light touch, “So, I want there to be a rule that at work, any...personal things between us are initiated by you. Which means you can shut me down at any time, anyway you feel necessary.”

“You mean, like asking you about your ex?”

“Ouch,” He muttered, looking down. “Yeah. Sure. What do you want to know?”

“Am I replacing your ex?”

He shook his head. “Not even remotely.”

“I’m in their office.”

He looked up, then shook his head. “No, you’re in my mom’s old office. Yesuel never worked at HopeWorld. Too much of a free-spirit.”

“But you loved them all the same.”

“I did. I thought I did. Love is...tricky.”

“Are you ready for another significant other?” You asked.

He met your gaze, holding it. “Do you like getting lost in the rain?”

You smiled. “You know I do.”

“Then you know I am,” He replied easily, fingers resting under your chin. “Are you going to be okay, with your eye like that? They did say it could get worse, and if it does….”

“Are you asking if you can stay? Because you’d have to borrow clothing, or live in a blanket until your clothing is dry. I don’t have much that would fit you.”

“I’m worried about you. I’ll stay on the couch.” He touched a strand of your still-damp hair. “Eye injuries are dangerous.”

“Didn’t you already tell Taehyung to come pick you up?”

He shook his head. “I was just going to walk down to work and get my car and pretend that Taehyung picked me up.”

You hit him lightly. “And if you got struck by lightning?”

“My company would be in good hands,” He answered, shrugging slightly. “But I would miss out on a few things. But you can get hit by lightning and live.”

“Not well,” You argued, frowning.

He gently ran a thumb over your eyebrow, as though to ease away your frown. “Besides, I was already struck by you. I don’t think anything could knock me off my feet like that, I don’t think anything ever has. You’re new and unique. And I want to know everything I can about you. Even if you don’t like pina coladas. Even if you are a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re addicted to it,” He replied easily, smirking at you.

And yes.

You were.

It was crazy, but you were completely addicted to the banter with him, the way he smiled while you were grumbling, the way he asked what you thought of things and actually listened. You liked his gentleness and compassion.

He brought hope back to your world.

“I agree to your rule,” You whispered.

Hoseok grinned and kissed you.

Your future was going to be crazy...but maybe the consistency of his smile was enough to get you through.

[ashketchup119]

Four Years To Get There

If you or a loved one remember when I used to write regularly for hypzag/zagnos, you may be entitled to a senior citizen discount-

I didn’t want to post all of my hades stuff, but I think this one is really cute. My fanfiction writing and my original story writing are two different styles, because fanfic is my domain to go crazy go wild.

“So, four years stuck with my brother? I don’t envy you.” Thanatos commented airily as he made coffee.

Zagreus, who had woken up ten minutes prior and was staring morosely at the countertop, looked up when Than started speaking, and frowned. “Hypnos isn’t that bad, Than. He’s actually nice to be around. And he hasn’t made ‘morning person’ into a personality trait, unlike other people.” He smiled after saying this, in a teasing manner aimed in the direction of Than’s back.

Than hmph-ed and said nothing more. 

The rest of the morning passed by as usual- Than went to work, Zag went to the gym and to walk Cerberus, Than came back for an early lunch, and the two of them exchanged pleasantries at the junction between their personal schedules- Than half out the door, Zag on his way in. The two of them had been roommates for two years, and had become comfortable with this routine.

Earlier that week, though, Zag had gotten an email saying he’d been chosen to work as a bodyguard for a diplomat headed on a mission to a planet where rumors of attack had been swirling, with instructions on how to get to the port and what to bring. In total, it was meant to last about nine years- four years to get there, a year on the planet, and four years to get back. It was quite the commitment, but he didn’t mind overmuch. It’s not like there was much waiting for him on the planet he lived on currently- just his friends, who assured him they’d text and video call, and his dog, who had already been approved to come with him.

The evening before, Zag had found out the name of the diplomat he was supposed to work for. It was Hypnos! His roommate's twin brother! The two of them weren’t very close, but he was kinda relieved to know there’d be another friendly face on the ship.

After greeting Than on the way in, he began packing, using the sheet he’d been sent. He put music on in the background, and hardly noticed the passing of time, only breaking out of his reverie when Than came to remind him to eat.

A couple days later, he was ready to leave, Cerberus waiting patiently at the door. He gave a quick goodbye to his friends and his father, the former of whom gave promises to contact and the latter of whom just hmm-ed under his breath.

After the ship had taken off, he sat on his bed for a while, taking it all in. He was going somewhere new- how exciting!- but he knew he was going to miss his friends and family.

A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts.

“Coming!” He said as he went to get the door.

On the other side of the door stood Hypnos, in full regalia. His departure had been much larger and more public, and Zag hoped that his brothers and mother had shown up. Charon he was almost certain of, and made a mental note to check his social media for pictures Hermes had most likely posted about his “almost-little-brother-in-law leaving us behind!! 😭😭.” Nyx and Than, though, were a little colder, and Than had made no move to leave when Zag had gotten on the ship.

“Hi!” Hypnos chirped, trying not to show the exhaustion he felt. It had been nothing but endless briefings for months prior to this, and the next four years were sure to be a nice, long break before doing it again for a whole year.

“Hi!” Zag replied, feeling slightly awkward in his far less formal tank top and shorts.

Cerberus came up between them and nosed at Hypnos’ cloak.

“Hi to you too!” Hypnos bent down and pet Cerberus to the best of his ability, mentally thanking the powers that be that he was a rather tall Doberman and not a small dog. 

Zag knew that Hypnos was his friend and his roommate’s brother, but he still was at a loss of how to act. Hypnos was, for all intents and purposes, his boss now, and he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d be expected to act accordingly.

Hypnos ended all pretenses of formality by stepping into Zag’s room and quickly shedding all jewelry and reminders of his station, leaving him in a long, elegant dress that crumpled beneath him when he flopped on Zag’s bed.

Hypnos yawned widely, and shifted to where he had a view of Zag still awkwardly standing in the doorway to his own room. Cerberus climbed on the bed next to him, and laid his head on Hypnos’ stomach.

It was a scene which made Zag vaguely want to join in and rest, but he was too wired to do so. Instead, he pulled the chair out from the desk facing the bed, and sat down with the back of the chair pressed to his chest.

“You excited?” Zag asked Hypnos, lightly drumming his fingers against the cool plastic.

Hypnos made a noncommittal noise and seemed to settle into the bed more. “You don’t mind if I nap here, do you?”

Zag shook his head, and Hypnos nodded slightly before falling asleep so quickly it startled Zag. He waited a few minutes before beginning to unpack, trying his hardest to remain quiet so as not to disrupt Hypnos. After dropping an exercise weight rather loudly and realizing that Hypnos hadn’t even stirred, he abandoned all attempts at noiselessness and just began placing things, noise be damned. 

He was so wrapped up in it he failed to notice when Hypnos woke up, studied him from behind for a few seconds (it was a nice view! sue him!), then rolled over and went back to sleep.

Zag was in the middle of organizing the desk when his communicator pinged, alerting him that dinner was being served in the cafeteria. 

“What time is it?” Hypnos mumbled from the bed.

Zag tilted the communicator to turn the screen on and told him.

Hypnos sighed and sat up, yawning as he stretched. He sat and blinked for a couple of seconds, then said, “We have to go to a special dinner with the other politicians and stuff. After today we’ll be able to go to the cafeteria, though.”

“When does it start?” Zag asked, trying to remember where he’d put his formal clothes.

Hypnos smiled guiltily and responded, “Five minutes ago?”

Zag’s eyes widened and he sprung into action, grabbing his clothes from the drawer and stumbling slightly as he went into the bathroom to change. Hypnos began to reluctantly put his own uniform on. By the time Zag came out, striking quite the figure in the fitted vestments, Hypnos had managed to pull everything on, and was fiddling with the clasp of the cloak.

“Here, let me get that for you.” Zag offered, and went to stand in front of Hypnos, where he reached up slightly and fastened the cloak.

The two stood in front of each other for a couple of seconds, Hypnos mentally preparing himself for human interaction and Zag trying to recall his training. Then, Hypnos sighed and moved around Zag to get to the door, and Zag fell into position beside him.

A week passed with Zag at Hypnos’ side almost constantly (even in sleep, to an extent, as their rooms were next to each other) before Hypnos once again came to his room for a nap. Then, over time, this became a regular occurrence. Hypnos would nap on Zag’s bed almost every day, and when he wasn’t napping, the two of them talked. Zag told Hypnos about growing up with a father who simultaneously ignored and expected everything from his son; his mother, who he had only met again recently, who used to worked as a diplomat but had retired to a small, idyllic, relatively unknown planet; the important people in his life, like his mentor Achilles and his friends. In return, Hypnos told Zag about growing up in a family that seemed to excel at everything; days spent sleeping because he couldn’t disappoint people in his dreams; going to school to learn how to talk to people and accidentally gaining importance. They talked about loneliness and happiness, highs and lows. 

It brought them closer together, and as weeks turned to months, Hypnos found himself looking forward to talks with Zagreus. He would wake up, giddy for their next interaction, and anticipate what he might say today. Maybe he’d make a comment about Zag’s haircut or a joke about how Cerberus like him better than Zag. Thinking about Zag made him smile involuntarily, and when the two of them talked, Hypnos sometimes felt his cheeks warm at Zag’s laugh and demeanor.

About four months into their voyage, he realized what this meant.

Oh.

Oh no.

It’s not like he hadn’t talked to Zag before- he did live with his brother- but the close quarters made everything… different. It felt like it was just the two of them, an island floating in a ship of 200 people. Maybe that was it- he just wanted to feel close to only other person on board he interacted with regularly. It couldn’t possibly be like, an actual crush, right? Yeah, no. It wasn’t.

That’s what he told himself, at least.

Zag, on the other hand, was oblivious to Hypnos’ internal struggle. He liked hanging out with Hypnos. They’d gone from acquaintances to best friends quickly, and Zag came to treasure their (many) moments together. He liked the teasing and jokes, and came to find his little yawn-stretches after a good nap rather cute. 

He had a crush on Hypnos.

He didn’t try to deny it or push it out of his mind, but he also didn’t really acknowledge it either. Hypnos was funny and adorable and really, really disliked tomatoes but always got an extra helping of pasta or whatever food with tomatoes was being served so he could give it to Zag, who he knew loved tomatoes. Zag couldn’t imagine not having a bit of a crush on Hypnos. He figured most people who met him did, because how could they not? With his unruly curls and dimples he was classic crush material.

So the first year passed. 

The second year began with a party, a celebration of “making it one year without any major incidents” (the ship captain’s words). Hypnos and Zag attended, once again in their stuffy formal wear, but ditched halfway through in favor of grabbing any food they could stuff in their pockets and talking in Zag’s room until long after the partygoers had trickled back into their rooms.

With the second year came new responsibilities. Hypnos’ monthly meetings turned into two, and he began to attend refresher courses on the language he’d be expected to use once the ship landed. Zag found himself standing outside rooms more often than not, and poor Cerberus’ walks went from three times a day to two. Their hang out time was cut in half virtually overnight.

So… why did Hypnos’ crush on Zagreus only worsen? 

They were both interacting with other people, and he had work to do. Why couldn’t he seem to pry Zag from his mind? He had to focus! But all he could focus on was Zag’s smile, playing on repeat in some sadistic part of his brain, and he wondered idly if someone had invented some sort of “cure” for a crush. Zag was his brother’s roommate! Than probably had a crush on him or something, because there’s no other way he’d let anyone live with him. He’d barely tolerated Hypnos when they’d shared a room as children!

(Than did have a small crush on Zagreus, but was finding out quickly that distance did not, in fact, make the heart fonder.)

Hypnos didn’t sleep a lot at night. Normally, sleep wasn’t a problem for him; he’d always been one to fall asleep easily and deeply. Now, though, his thoughts played on an endless loop, and he only really slept when he was in Zag’s room, surrounded by the noises of Zagreus and Cerberus.

Zag found that his crush on Hypnos was quickly blossoming into something much deeper, and didn’t really mind it. He wondered, idly, if there was a chance of Hypnos feeling the same, but didn’t want to jeopardize the mission (they still had eight more years together!) or their friendship. Besides, there was something beautiful in just the feeling of spending time with someone you l- cared for. Cared for, and he figured it was better to enjoy it.

For a short while, anyway.

It was difficult to deny the dreams he had of holding hands with Hypnos and going on dates (among other, less wholesome things), and he began to wonder more and more often if those dreams had a chance of becoming a reality.

Probably not. Hypnos was busy and important; he probably didn’t think about Zag half as much as Zag thought about him.

Three years came and went, with the budding feelings between the two only deepening. It caused some slight frustration, but neither of them was willing to talk about it, and behind their backs, the rest of the ship began to take bets on when they were going to get together. 

It didn’t happen in Year Three, when they were shoved into a closet “on accident” and spent the time talking about the things they had to finish that day.

It didn’t happen in Year Four, when Cerberus got sick and the two of them squished themselves into the same chair with Hypnos’ formal cloak draped on top of them like a blanket. It had been a cute scene, and was trending with #zagnos on social media for an hour before another diplomat had requested it get taken down. 

Finally, the day came for them to land. The whole ship was abuzz with people hurrying to and fro in anxious attempts to make sure they and their belongings were ready to depart. They’d been told to leave the bulk of their belongings on the ship, as it was the same one they’d be returning to and they would still have access to it, but this left people unsure as to whether they should over or underpack. 

Zag had decided that one backpack would probably be enough, seeing as they’d been told that decorations in the rooms they were to be provided were forbidden. He also had a tote bag with Cerberus’ things packed, and was more or less just waiting for the ship to be cleared to unload.

Hypnos, on the other hand, had three pre-packed, unopened suitcases filled with various clothes of the local fashion (enough to make sure they wouldn’t repeat; the higher-ups wanted to make an impression of their wealth); a bag of cosmetics and hair products (no longer would the unruly mess of curls reign); five briefcases with information he’d studied front to back multiple times during the trip; another duffle bag with sleep clothes; and a bag with all of his electronics. 

Zag picked up as much as he could, and the rest was carried by an envoy sent from the local government, leaving Hypnos free to smile and shake hands and generally do the job he’d been sent there to do. 

It was a stark difference from the Hypnos Zag had gotten to know, and it shocked him somewhat to see how quickly he’d changed from Hypnos, Zag’s best friend and the guy he’s in love with, to a charming diplomat with a winning smile that anyone would be hard-pressed to dislike.

Zag must’ve been hard-pressed, then, because he found himself disliking this version of Hypnos. There was something… insincere about it. It was all fake, a show put on to help Hypnos do his job better.

Well, he was only here to help Hypnos do his job, right? It wasn’t for him to like or dislike things. 

There was to be a party for those who had finally touched down on solid ground, and as Zag changed into a less formal outfit for the event, he heard a knock at the door. He opened it, then frowned, realizing that there was no one there. He turned to go back to getting ready, but not even five seconds later, the knock sounded again. Again, he opened the door, only to find no one there. He went outside and walked around a little, but didn’t see anyone. He went back to his room, where the knocking sounded again, and realized that the knocking was coming from somewhere not the front door. 

Five minutes later, he found a shallow dip in the wall, and when he touched it, a smooth voice asked, “Name?”

“Uh, Zagreus?” He answered.

A beep sounded, and the voice once again asked, “Name?”

“Zagreus… Plutonic?” He replied again, questioningly.

A ding sounded, and a portion of the wall swung outward to reveal Hypnos, still in the same outfit he’d been wearing earlier. Hypnos smiled widely at him- that same smile that he wore during their hang out sessions, not the one he wore as a diplomatic mask- but quickly flushed purple.

Zag raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“You’re uh, you-“ Hypnos stammered. “You’re not wearing a shirt, silly!”

Zag looked down and realized Hypnos was right. He smiled as he teased, “And? Do you like what you see?”

Hypnos just giggled, a high-pitched, somewhat frantic noise. 

Zagreus put on a shirt as Hypnos moved into the room, sitting daintily on the edge of the bed because his ornate clothing stopped him from doing anything else. Cerberus came up to him and wagged his tail expectantly, and Hypnos reached out and pet his head, making sure to scratch the area behind his ears that he knew he liked.

Zag watched them fondly. He’d always taken it as a good sign that Hypnos and Cerberus got along so well, and had told his mom such. She’d agreed with him, with that bright look in her eyes that hinted she knew more than she let on. 

When Zag was ready, the two of them left together, Cerberus asleep on the bed. 

At the party itself, the two of them basically stuck to the edges, chatting with other people occasionally. Eventually, an alcoholic drink was thrust into their hands. Zag looked questioningly at Hypnos, who nodded slightly as he put his own drink down. Zag grinned and drank it all down in one gulp, to the cheers of the other partygoers. He began to mingle with the crowd, leaving Hypnos standing awkwardly in the corner. Some other diplomats joined him, and they spent time murmuring about upcoming responsibilities and travel memories.

About an hour later, Hypnos felt a tug on his arm, and looked up to see Zagreus, cheeks flushed, smiling widely as he pulled him to the dancefloor. Hypnos made half-hearted excuses to the other diplomats before turning and anxiously following Zag to the dancefloor, leaving several knowing faces in his wake.

The two of them danced for a while, laughing wildly and holding each other’s hands in turn, high on the music and each other’s company. Eventually, the two of them ended up in a different corner than they’d started off in, smiling widely, faces flushed with exertion. 

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Hypnos was smiling widely and giggling breathlessly, staring down at Zag. Zag was looking up at him brightly, fondness crinkling the corners of his eyes. Zag pushed up, slightly, onto the tips of his toes. Hypnos leaned down, unconsciously. 

Their lips met.

After a second, Hypnos jerked back. Zag was drunk, and Hypnos felt like he was taking advantage of the situation. 

He cleared his throat and turned around, mood suddenly soured. “Let’s go back to the rooms, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

Zag wrinkled his nose and slurred, “Nuh I haven’t.”

Hypnos grabbed his arm and led him out anyway, exchanging goodbyes with those who came to talk to them. When they got to Zag’s room, he watched him go inside, then went to his own room.

He slept, exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally.

When he woke up, he was still tired, but he got out of bed and forced himself to get ready for the day, even though he felt like sleeping for the next decade at least. 

Zag woke up with a slight headache and a feeling of embarrassment. He really just… HAD to go and kiss Hypnos, huh? And Hypnos had clearly not felt the same and what HAPPENED to “I technically work for him so this is a bad idea”?

He really should’ve just… stayed sober.

“I fucked up, Cerberus.” He told his dog morosely, who just stared back at him.

He sighed, took some medicine, fed his dog, and put on his uniform, feeling slight dread as he exited his room. Hypnos was standing outside, and didn’t look at him as he began to walk to his first appointment of the day. 

It was hard for Hypnos to muster up his usual charm, but nothing went sideways, so he took that as a win. Meals were awkward, what with Zagreus sitting in front of him but neither of them talking. 

It continued like this for a week before one of them decided to break the silence.

Zag knocked on the door separating their rooms late one night, and opened it after hearing a returning knock. He walked into Hypnos’ room, noting the fact that it was messier than he’d ever seen it.

“I,” He began, then paused slightly. “I just wanted to apologize. It was wrong of me, and I can only-”

“Apologize for what?” Hypnos butted in, confused.

“Well… the kiss?” Zagreus responded, just as confused.

“Wait.” Hypnos said, eyes narrowing slightly as he continued, “I’m the one who should apologize to you, I took advantage of the fact tha-”

“Why are you apologizing to me? I’m the one with the-” Zag made a vague hand motion, “feelings.”

Hypnos stared at him. “I thought… I was the one with feelings?”

The two of them stared at each other for a while before breaking into laughter.

“We’re so stupid!” Hypnos exclaimed between fits of laughter, and Zag just laughed as he sat on the bed so as to not fall down. 

After a while, their laughter ceased. 

Hypnos leaned into Zag’s shoulder, and Zag put an arm loosely around Hypnos waist. Then he pulled away slightly, and asked, “Should we try this again?”

Hypnos nodded, purple flush rising in his cheeks, and the two of them kissed.

[blazehedgehog]

What Sega Saturn games would you recommend?

Actual Classics

The Panzer Dragoon Trilogy. I think I mentioned this in my Panzer Dragoon review for TSSZ, but these were like... the original Team ICO games, in a way. Not literally, of course, but I get a very similar vibe from these games as I do, say, Shadow of the Colossus or whatever. Ancient, quiet worlds, completely unlike anything you get from typical medieval fantasy content. The first game is a bit simple, but things do pick up in Zwei and Saga.

Powerslave. This is apparently a white whale for Nightdive right now, as far as their efforts to revive classic FPSes go. The story of Powerslave is a really weird one. Depending on whether you play on Saturn, PC, or Playstation, you get a completely different game. As far as I'm aware, the bulk of people agree the Saturn is the best version, but it's definitely not unanimous.

Most Sega Arcade Ports. I say "most" because you should probably stay away from launch software (Daytona USA, Virtua Fighter 1, etc.) but there are a lot of stellar, almost-arcade-perfect ports out there like Sega Rally Championship, Fighting Vipers, Decathlete, Die Hard Arcade, and so on. Virtua Fighter 2 on Saturn apparently manages the rare thing of being better than the arcade version, with higher resolution output and smoother framerates. I wouldn't classify Daytona USA C.C.E. as a very accurate version of Daytona still, but it has tons of bonus content to make up for that fact, and that content has never appeared in any other release of Daytona.

Fighters Megamix. Not really Sega's answer to the Capcom vs. series, but close enough. All of AM2's fighters come together to battle it out and it's just a good time. Absolutely nothing in terms of story, but there's a surprising amount of single player content regardless. More than most fighting games, I'd argue.

NiGHTS and Christmas NiGHTS. Don't feel bad if you don't connect with these games, as they aren't for everyone, but if you do connect with them? They're incredible.

Mega Man 8. I know this was on Playstation, but the Saturn version is subtly different in a lot of ways, making it a little tougher. It also has exclusive bonus fights against Cutman and Woodman.

Curiosities

Mr. Bones. I don't think anyone would call this a "good" game, but it is a weird, wonderful game -- more of a minigame collection, with a bizarre storyline and lots of rhythm and blues music. Everyone deserves to experience Mr. Bones at least once in their life.

Bug!, Clockwork Knight, and Astal. Rumor has it these were three different experiments by Sega to find a replacement mascot to supplant Sonic. All of them failed for different reasons. The most interesting of the three is definitely Astal, in my opinion. Clockwork Knight kind of got Sonic & Knuckles'd, so even though there are two Clockwork Knight games, they're more like two halves of one larger project. And Bug... the second game plays better than the first but the second game also has some dated racist middle eastern stuff in it that's not great.

Resident Evil. You can probably skip this, but it's interesting insofar as Capcom had to remake a lot of the 3D models for this game because the PS1 assets were totally incompatible with the Saturn. So all the characters and monsters look subtly different. Gameplay is nearly identical, though there are a few small changes, and an extra "Battle" mode.

Legend of Oasis. Sequel to "Beyond Oasis" on the Genesis. Kind of Sega's "Zelda." I own a disc of this game and I've never been able to reach the third dungeon because the puzzles seemed kind of obtuse. But I also haven't played it in 15+ years.

Shining the Holy Ark. I'm putting this here instead of the "classics" section because I've also never beat it. It's a pure dungeon crawler RPG, with grid-based movement and everything. Hard to play very far when your Saturn can't save data because the battery is dead.

Keio Flying Squadron 2. The original Keio was a Sega CD shmup, but this is more of a 2D platformer/action game. It's got that weird, Japanese sense of humor. Pretty nice sprites.

Sonic R. It's just interesting to see how slightly different this version of the game is compared to the PC version.

Shinobi Legions. This has been a mainstay at GDQ for a couple years now where they do a run during Awful Block. By all accounts it doesn't seem like a great game, but it does have a lot of sentai-esque live action FMV.

Super Tempo. Tempo on the 32X kind of reminded me of "Japan's Earthworm Jim." This sequel doubles down on lavish animation and absurd humor, which... kind of makes it unplayable! But dang, it looks good.

Games I've Never Played But Hear Are Good

Burning Rangers. I keep meaning to tackle this and just haven't. Thought about maybe doing it on stream one day, some day. Apparently a progenitor to the camera problems people had with Sonic Adventure.

Grandia. By all accounts it sounds like the Saturn version of Grandia is still the best, most complete version of the game... but it also never got localized in to English, so it's sort of lost to the ages.

The Mansion of Hidden Souls. Apparently half FMV game, half point and click. Was on Sega CD, too. I never paid any attention to it until recently when RetroPals seemed to sound positive about it after streaming both versions of the game.

Three Dirty Dwarves. From the developers of Ecco the Dolphin comes... a bizarre beat'em'up about rude medieval dwarves with attitude getting warped to the 1990's and having to fight monsters in an urban sprawl. Sega pushed it a lot back in the day and then the game fell off the face of the planet, but people have been rediscovering it lately and it doesn't sound like the worst thing ever made.

Shining Force III. I've heard good things about this game, but Shining Force games are turn based strategy and that's not my bag. Also, only episode 1 ever got localized in to English (and apparently the voice acting is stunningly cheesy). There might be fan-patches for Episodes 2 and 3, however.

Dragon Force. This was an early Saturn game that got propped up as a killer app for a while. Also a strategy RPG.

Guardian Heroes & Radiant Silvergun. These are classic Treasure games. I'm not a fan of shmups, so I never touched Radiant Silvergun. I think I own Guardian Heroes on XBLA, I just haven't ever booted it up.

Dark Savior. This is apparently a sequel to Landstalker and by all accounts seems to be a game people liked, but I've never ever investigated it even a little bit.

[whitesparrows97]

Head In The Clouds

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers AU

Summary: When things get too much at home, you book a flight to the other end of the world to escape your thoughts for a few days. The fact that you meet a handsome stranger on this flight, who distracts you from the intrusive thoughts of your ex-boyfriend, is more than convenient. So far off the ground, it’s only a matter of time before feelings and desires run high and one thing leads to another.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content including fingering in public, risk of discovery, protected vaginal sex, light choking, being insecure after sex

Word Count: 9.1K

Author’s note: Hi! After getting your positive feedback to post this, I’m doing just that. I get that at times like right now, getting away as easily as in this story is not possible and being stuck at home can be difficult. But I hope that this story helps at least a little bit to take your minds off things for a little while! 

You had to get away. You hadn’t cared about where, as long as you brought as much distance between you and your boyfriend as possible. Ex-boyfriend, you corrected yourself in your thoughts. This addition still felt strange to even think. The last five years had been a waste of time. In retrospect, all the energy and time you had put into the relationship would have been better spent on something else, something better. Something better, that’s what he had said to you as well when you caught him with another woman doing it on the kitchen counter. You had to suppress the gag reflex that was building up inside you when the image of the two of them came back to your mind. 

Maybe it had been the first shock, but maybe you were just too naive, too gullible and that was why you hadn’t turned 180 degrees at that sight and left your ex-boyfriend behind without any further explanation. Because did it even need that? An explanation? It had been more than clear what had happened and actually you should have be above it all. Actually, you should have rolled your eyes and left after the first desperate attempts of your ex-boyfriend to explain what happened. But you just weren’t like that. Unlike him, you wanted to give both of you another chance. 

She is simply better than you. 

This sentence echoed in your head for weeks now and it was almost comforting. Had you made a mistake at work? Well, others were just better than you. Did you argue with your parents again because you were supposedly not helping enough in the household? So what, you just couldn’t keep up with your siblings’ diligence. Another reason why you had to go away for a few days. You had shared the apartment with your ex-boyfriend and finally found some of your pride again. So two days later, when you knew he was at work, you had packed your stuff together and moved back in with your parents for a while. You hadn’t been aware of how difficult it was to live at home again after living alone for so long. As grateful as you were to them for taking you back in this situation of need, you just wanted to have your peace and quiet after work.

You sighed with exhaustion as you dropped into the waiting area of the terminal and put your backpack on the seat next to you. Getting here at all had been almost impossible. Your mother had tried for hours to convince you that such hasty decisions would never end well and that you would be homesick by the time the flight started. But to get homesick, you needed a place you could call home. Your ex-boyfriend had taken all that from you when he threw away your five years of relationship. He had taken that feeling of familiarity with him. Since then, everything seemed dull, somehow strange. You even watched your own reflection, wondering if that was really you. If you were the mistake, the reason why your ex-boyfriend had cheated on you. 

You are not spontaneous enough. I feel like we’re already eighty and have been married for sixty years. The relationship is in a rut. 

Whether that was the reason why you were now bouncing your leg up and down in excitement and nervously looking at the screen of your phone to see what time it was, you didn’t know. You were doing exactly what your ex-boyfriend had criticized you for and you had the feeling that you were still being controlled by him. He had determined the last five years of your life, it had to end now. After all, he had put an end to it months ago. 

You listened to the announcements of the staff echoing through the airport while you waited for the boarding to begin. You had arrived at the airport too early as usual, which was a miracle when you thought back to all the discussions with your mother, who had tried to persuade you to stay. But a few days somewhere else would probably not only do you good, but also your parents. It must have been difficult for them too to share the house with you again. But it was almost destiny when you saw the post on Facebook of a friend of your family who was subletting his apartment. He had bought a vacation apartment in Sweden years, if not more than a decade ago. Maybe that was why your mother had given in at some point because she knew the friend well and knew that you were in good hands there. And it was only for a few days. A few days in which you hopefully would find yourself again and were able to organize your thoughts. 

You stared into the distance as countless thoughts flashed through your head and you watched the many planes landing and taking off, which you could observe through the countless windows. That was why you missed the glances of a young man who had sat down in a seat opposite you. You crossed your legs so that you wouldn’t bounce your leg up and down anymore and tried to relax a bit. It was the first time you flew alone. In the past your parents were always there, later either your ex-boyfriend or your friends. During the last hours you hadn’t had time to think about what could go wrong. But now that you were alone in the terminal waiting for your flight and had nothing to do but exactly that, waiting, you had time to think. You had forgotten in your hurry that flying meant mainly waiting. You arrived hours earlier, only to either queue up in rows, waiting for the plane to be ready to take off or for you to finally arrive at your destination. Oh, how nice it would be if you could teleport. 

Again, a soft sigh escaped you as you watched the people around you to see with whom you would spend the next hours. It was strange, you didn’t know each other and spent hours with them in the most confined space. You shared the toilet with strangers and even fell asleep next to each other. That was more than you could say about your first boyfriend back then. Your gaze lingered on a young man, about your age, who was sitting directly opposite you. He wore a face mask, so that half of his face was covered. His gaze was on his phone, which he held in one hand, and he seemed to be listening to music through the headphones that were in his ears as he gently bobbed his head up and down. 

Your eyes wandered further down over the dark green hoodie and the torn jeans, which gave you an excellent view of his naturally tanned skin on his knees. You looked up again and your heart almost stopped as you looked straight into the eyes of the stranger. Quickly you looked to the side and you felt your cheeks getting hot with embarrassment as you realized that he had caught you checking him out more than obviously. You felt his gaze on you and tried to ignore the urge to look back at him and see if you were right with your feelings or just imagined it. It was worth a try, it was unlikely that he was still looking at you. Right? He probably had a short laugh and then turned back to his music. 

You risked it and your gaze quickly slipped to the stranger and back again. Nope, he still stared at you and if you had seen it right in the hurry, he grinned. At least if you interpreted it correctly, how his eyes had formed into small crescents, the rest was still hidden under the mask. You cleared your throat because you had the feeling that a lump had formed in your throat. With numb fingers you fished your phone out of your pocket again and tried to distract yourself with social media while you still could. Once you were in the air, you had to rely on your book, which you had packed especially for the flight. 

You could feel how you relaxed a bit when you turned your focus and concentration away from the man’s stare. For the next few minutes, you continued absent-mindedly scrolling through your Instagram feed, which felt like it was repeating every day before your flight was finally announced and boarding began. When you looked up and tried to grab your backpack, you unconsciously took a quick glance at the seat opposite you. Your heart sank when you realized that it was empty.

And that was exactly the reason why you could never meet new people. You have had the perfect opportunity to talk to him. After all, you already had his attention, and a quick chat before the flight would probably not have been a bad idea. Just to calm down your thoughts, which just shot through the ceiling again at the upcoming flight.

You were a little angry at yourself for blowing this chance when you lined up to get on the plane. You forced a smile when you held your phone on the scanner and shuffled after the other passengers as the employee wished you a good flight and you thankfully put your phone back in your pocket. Although you had booked the flight so spontaneously, you were even able to get a seat by the window. You couldn’t imagine sitting for hours in the aisle or worse, in the middle. You needed the comfort you felt that at least on one side you had no one sitting next to you or constantly passing you. 

As you walked through the narrow corridor looking for your seat, you noticed that the plane in general, fortunately, did not seem to be too crowded. But what did you expect for one of the last flights of the day and in the middle of the week? Maybe you were lucky and the two seats next to you would be free so you had a little more room to perhaps even lie down. You had a busy day, which was very beneficial to you because you would probably fall asleep soon and sleep through most of the flight. This was the only good way to spend such a long flight. 

Almost at the end of the plane you finally spotted your seat number. As you lowered your eyes, you could see familiar brown, slightly tousled hair looking over the seat of the row in front of you. Your breath faltered when you realized who was sitting directly in the seat next to yours. Before you could think too much, he had looked up from his phone when he noticed you standing hesitantly in the aisle in front of the row of seats. 

“Oh, are you sitting here?” he asked and gestured to the seat next to him, which he was currently blocking. 

You smiled apologetically and nodded. “Sorry, if I had known that someone was sitting next to me, I would have gotten in line earlier.” You watched him stand up and duck his head so he wouldn’t bump his head. 

But he waved his hand in reassurance. “No problem, I could have got on later as well.” He threw you a smile again, which you at least interpreted as one. You wondered if you would ever see his face without a mask. You took a step back to give him enough room and tried not to let your surprise show when you noticed how much he towered over you. But maybe it just seemed that way in the small space when you looked up to him intimidated when he was standing right in front of you. “There you go,” he said, and made a broad arm movement into the row of seats and you had to laugh softly as he bowed to you. You almost felt as if you were getting into a luxury limousine and not letting yourself fall on the sat through seat in economy class of an airplane. 

He also sat down again on the seat next to you while you tried to make the very limited space you had available for the next hours as comfortable as possible. You felt his eyes on you again and looked up with curiosity. It seemed as if he had been caught before he regained his composure and his gaze glided to the backpack that you were still holding between your legs. “Do you need help with that?” he asked with a nod in that direction, “I can put it in the top storage for you. You don’t need to be afraid to ask if you need it again,” he explained to you immediately when he noticed your hesitation. 

You thought briefly about his offer. It would certainly be more comfortable if you had a bit more legroom and could stretch your legs a bit every now and then. And if he already offered that you could always ask him if you needed something from your backpack, he really didn’t seem to mind. So you accepted his offer with a smile. When you handed your backpack to him, your fingers brushed against each other and you had to suppress a pleasant shiver. 

Quickly you leaned back in your seat and stared intently out the oval window, hoping that he didn’t notice your awkwardness too much. 

What was the probability that your seat was next to his? Even though you had never been very good at math in school, even you knew that the probability was very low. Either fate was particularly fond of you and gave you a second chance after you screwed up the first one. Or it laughed at you and wanted to see you suffer, because you were probably thinking of nothing else but the attractive man next to you for the next few hours. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he pulled down the table in front of him and put his laptop on it. Okay, good. He seemed to be busy and had no intention of keeping the conversation going. That was convenient for you and you were by no means disappointed because you wanted to know more about him. No, that would be strange. He had just been friendly, that was all. 

In order to stop sitting oddly next to him, you reached for your book and turned to the page where you had stopped. You still had a good two-thirds to go and, even if you couldn’t get a wink of sleep, you definitely wouldn’t be able to finish it. The reading did you good, it distracted you from the turbulent start and the warmth radiated from the man next to you. Every line more you read, pulled you further and further into the spell of the story. You did not know how much time had passed, but when you looked up, your neck hurt, which had been bent down all the time. You groaned softly and rubbed your neck to release the tension. Then you heard a soft laugh next to you that made you look to the side. 

“Murakami, huh?” he asked without taking his eyes off his laptop screen. “I understand why you were so absorbed in the book.”

Surprised, you stared at him and unconsciously stroked the cover of the book. “Have you read any of his books?” Your gaze slipped further down and only now did you realize that he had taken off his mask. It was almost unfair how good-looking he was. How his dark red lips curled up into a little laugh or his jaw, over which you would love to let your finger slide. You didn’t even want to begin with his delicate nose, on which sat round glasses with a filigree frame.

He nodded and turned his gaze from the monitor to you. “A few?” he asked almost shocked, “Almost all of them, and let me tell you, there are not exactly a few,” he laughed and you couldn’t hold back your smile. “Is this your first book by him?”

You nodded, somewhat embarrassed. He seemed to know so much about the author while you were still stuck on page 250 of the first book. “That obvious?”

He shrugged his shoulders and let himself fall into the seat where he had previously leaned forward to see the screen better. “1Q84 is probably the first book of many by Murakami. Do you like his writing style?” You hesitated a bit, you didn’t want to spoil it by criticizing his possibly favorite author. But he seemed to notice your hesitation and had to laugh. “You can be honest, I think he’s written better books than this series.”

“Oh, really? Which one do you recommend?”

“Definitely Kafka on the shore,” he said without batting an eyelid. “A friend of mine is also enthusiastic about Hard-Boiled Wonderland, but to be honest I never really enjoyed it much.” His eyes fell on the book you were still holding tightly on your lap. “But read the other two books from the series first.”

Slightly surprised, you raised your eyebrows. “What, there are more parts to the story?”

He laughed softly and you watched him as his slim, long fingers reached for the laptop and slowly closed it. “People are always surprised because they only know the first book,” he said more to himself than to you, before he turned towards you and smiled at you. “I am Hoseok.” He held out his hand to you and you gladly took it. 

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself and his smile grew a bit wider. 

„Nice to meet you, Y/N,“ he said and his brown eyes almost burned into you as he looked at you. His hand held yours for a moment longer before he let go and looked to the side. Only now could you breathe again. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you felt your own heartbeat rushing in your ears, which even drowned out the roar of the turbines. “Are you staying in Sweden, or is this a stopover for you?”

You were taken aback for a moment that he was still seeking the conversation. “Oh, I’m staying in Sweden. An acquaintance has a vacation apartment there and I just wanted to get out for a while.”

“Ah, how nice,” he sighed, “And I completely understand, sometimes you get a little stir-crazy, right?”

You hummed in agreement. “Especially when you moved back in with your parents. How did you put up with them as a teenager?”

Hoseok laughed. “As much as you love them, but what’s the saying? Everything in moderation.” You felt his gaze on you and sensed that he was assessing whether he could ask the next question or should keep it to himself. He decided on the former. “May I ask how you ended up living at home again?”

You sighed, did you really want to tell a stranger your worries and problems? You decided on a short version, you did not want to bore him right after a few minutes of conversation. “Long story, actually. In short, I shared an apartment with my boyfriend, sorry, ex-boyfriend. He cheated on me and I didn’t find a new apartment in a hurry. That’s why I have to live with my parents again. But probably better than living on the street.”

“Okay, wow,” he said after your monologue and you already regretted having opened your mouth at all. “You moved out even though he cheated on you?”

Oh, that was not the reaction you were expecting. “Yeah, I couldn’t kick him out of the apartment and I didn’t want to live with him anymore.”

“Understandably,” Hoseok added, “but if I had been in your place, I would have put his things on the street and changed the locks. Oh, what am I saying? I would have thrown his belongings right out of the window, so he would have had to pick them up himself from the sidewalk.”

You laughed at his statement. “You’re right, but I just wanted to get away at that moment.” Your smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. All that remained was a frown. 

“Cheating sucks, I hate people who do this to their partner,” Hoseok continued the conversation, which had briefly drifted into an oppressive silence. 

“Me too,” you agreed with a sigh. But then you were seized with courage. You had told him something intimate that you had hardly told anyone before, except your closest friends and your parents. And that was the only reason you asked the next question. “What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

He smiled, almost embarrassed and briefly avoided your gaze. “I work a lot, to be honest,” he began to explain and pointed to his laptop, “My last girlfriend didn’t handle it so well that I didn’t have that much time. Instead of making her a priority, I mistakenly thought she had to accept that work comes first.” He glanced around briefly as if he remembered a moment from the past that was hidden from you. Then he pulled himself together again and gave you a warm, sincere smile. “Now I know better.”

“Relationships are complicated,” you said, putting your book aside. On the one hand, to suggest to Hoseok that you wanted to keep talking to him, and on the other hand, to stop your fingers from continuing to play nervously with the cover, which was already beginning to peel off. 

“Not with the right person,” Hoseok contradicted you and winked at you. He winked at you. Your jaw almost dropped at the sight of it, and you pulled yourself together to keep your facial features in place as best you could while you frantically searched for an answer. 

“It’s just not so easy to find the right person,” you admitted shyly, playing with your fingers because the book was out of reach.

“Well, maybe they’re closer than you think,” you heard Hoseok say next to you, and as the words left his mouth, your gaze shot back to him, which you had previously fixed on your thigh. He grinned at you before he opened his laptop without another word and continued working on his project. 

Should you say something? You didn’t want to interrupt him at work, but you didn’t want your conversation to end either. As you wrestled with yourself further whether you should speak to him or not, the grin grew on Hoseok’s face, which you didn’t even notice, so much you were absorbed in thought. So you flinched slightly when you suddenly felt a hand on your chin that gently turned your head in his direction. You looked at Hoseok with big eyes, completely taken aback by the sudden touch. 

“Your ex-boyfriend was a complete idiot for cheating on someone like you. I wonder how he could think that he could find someone better like you. Don’t let an idiot like him fuck up your confidence. I’ve only known you for a short time, but you seem like an incredible woman who deserves so much more in life than that.” He threw a sad smile at you, and you wondered if he had experienced something similar. “I see how insecure you are, and of course I don’t know if this is related to that or maybe it’s because of me. But let me tell you one thing quite openly from man to woman: You are incredibly attractive, smart, have a good sense for books,” you laughed softly at this comment, “and you’re an excellent partner in conversation. I’m glad I’m sitting next to you and not next to Elizabeth, who had been telling me non-stop about her terrific son Jasper on my last flight.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter and Hoseok let go of your chin before he joined in your laughter. “Well, then, Hoseok, your standards are very low.” You remembered a sentence that almost got lost in his short monologue. “Besides, it’s not because of you that I’m so insecure. I mean, a little bit. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? Who wouldn’t get nervous? But I’m not uncomfortable with you, if that’s what you meant.”

Hoseok grinned at your words and only now did you realize what you had just said. “So you find me attractive?”

Confused, you pulled your eyebrows together. “Are you serious?” You didn’t know whether he was just playing with you and trying to get you to come out of your shell, or whether he was really a little insecure. So you decided not to tease him, but to be honest. You had nothing to lose anyway. “If it makes you happy, you’re just my type.”

“I see,” Hoseok said, and you watched him as his gaze flitted across your face and finally caught on your lips for a moment. You took a deep breath as you looked back at Hoseok, the unspoken question hanging between you. The passenger compartment had calmed down a bit, most people were focused on their books, magazines or laptops and some had already prepared for sleep. When you looked past Hoseok for a moment, you noticed that it had become almost dark outside. Dark blue changed to black and there was hardly anything else but darkness. 

Hoseok embraced your face and immediately your attention was back on him. He slowly and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb and you wanted to melt into the seat right there and then. No one had touched you so tenderly for months, if not years. Nervously you bit your lip as you weighed the pros and cons. What happened if the kiss was weird and you had to sit next to each other for hours afterwards? Was it inappropriate to kiss someone else so soon after the breakup with your ex-boyfriend? Why did you even bother about what others, especially your ex-boyfriend, thought of you?

Hoseok exhaled with amusement and shook his head. “I see you thinking, you know that?”

“Sorry,” you muttered and lowered your head in shame. But Hoseok also raised his other hand and now embraced your face from both sides, so you had to look at him. 

“I won’t do anything that you are not one hundred percent comfortable with. Deal?” You nodded in agreement. “So, baby, tell me what I can do to make you feel good.”

You were taken aback by his question and your heart leapt at the pet name he had addressed you by. You no longer knew how words and language worked. But Hoseok noticed your hesitation and you held your breath as he moved a little closer. You felt his hot breath on your face and instinctively closed your eyes. Light as a feather, you felt his lips as they gently brushed against yours, but not yet touching yours completely. “Is a kiss a good start?” he whispered and you nodded eagerly.

Without wasting another second he pressed his soft lips on yours. You sighed as he took a hand off your cheek and buried it in your hair. He pressed himself closer against you as far as the armrest between you allowed and you pulled him a little closer to you by his hoodie. He could barely be close enough to you. The warmth he radiated immersed you in an indefinable veil of lust and desire. It wasn’t long before he opened his mouth and you felt his tongue on your lips. With a smile you opened your mouth more than willingly and immediately he pushed into you. You had to suppress a moan as he explored your mouth extensively and savored your taste. 

“Shh,” Hoseok whispered against your lips and the vibration of the words on your lips sent a shiver through your whole body. His thumb gently stroked your lips as if to emphasize his words, and an almost desperate whimper escaped you. “We don’t want to wake up the other passengers, do we?” he exhaled and his hot breath grazed your face. 

With your eyes still closed you shook your head and your lips found his again. His lips were soft and your mouths moved together in an almost familiar rhythm. Willingly you buried your fingers in his hair to draw him even closer to you and feel his body against yours. Hoseok grunted dissatisfied and reluctantly separated from you. He reached between your two bodies and a moment later he pushed the armrest between your two seats upwards.

“Better,” he murmured and pressed his mouth firmly back onto yours again. A soft sigh escaped you when you could finally turn to the side on your seat and he pressed you tightly against him. Your fingers curiously explored the muscles that were hidden under his t-shirt and he sighed into the kiss as you slid your fingers under it to let your fingers dance right over his skin. He exhaled trembling when you touched him and you had to stifle a grin. 

Meanwhile, one of his hands moved down your side and hip before finally resting on your thigh, where his thumb made circling movements. You drew in the air sharply as his thumb stroked the inside of your leg, sending a wave of excitement through you. The feeling took you by surprise so much that you didn’t even realize how you had stopped to respond to the kiss. Only when Hoseok’s head moved away from you and looked at you waiting, did you open your eyes and notice your slight freeze.

“Is that going too far?” he asked with concern and your eyes widened at his assumption.

Immediately you shook your head. “Not at all,” you said quietly, so that none of the passengers sitting around you would know anything about your conversation. Then you had to laugh softly and briefly dodged his questioning look. “On the contrary. If you continue like this, I just don’t know if I can hold myself back.”

At these words, Hoseok had to smile before it turned into a dirty grin. “Then I guess I’d better stop, right?” Contrary to his words, he started circling his thumb on the inside of your thigh again. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch and millimeter by millimeter Hoseok worked his way up between your legs. “On the other hand,” Hoseok began and paused, sliding his thumb right between your legs and slowly stroking the fabric of your jeans. You had to bite your lower lip hard to keep from moaning. “What should the crew do? Throw us out?”

You had to giggle, even though you knew there would be other ways to punish you for your inappropriate behavior.

“I would take my chances,” you whispered and smiled honestly at him. That was the last confirmation Hoseok had been waiting for. He released the grip around your thigh and unbuttoned your jeans. His gaze almost pierced you as he slowly, almost teasingly, pulled the zipper down before he let his hand slide in. 

He pressed his lips to yours just at the moment when a surprised moan left your lips as you felt his fingers right against your naked skin. You straightened up to give him better access to your pants and immediately his long, narrow fingers slid deeper. He had to feel how wet you were as he slid one of his fingers along the length of your labia and then circled your opening. Slowly he began to penetrate you with the tip of his finger before pulling back again. He repeated this movement a few times until you were sure that your panties would be completely soaked. You could not remember ever having been so wet. Your ex-boyfriend and you had mostly used lube to make it more comfortable. But now you were sure that Hoseok would be able to penetrate you just like that.

At the thought of Hoseok cock you inevitably clenched around nothing. You managed a soft whimper and Hoseok felt pity for you as he pushed his finger completely inside you. You held your breath and had to squeeze your eyes together when he immediately started to curl his finger to find the slightly rough spot inside you that made you see black spots behind your eyes. You were more than happy about the loud turbine noise of the plane, because otherwise you were sure that the other passengers would hear how wet you were. 

“Hoseok,” you brought out between wet kisses and grabbed his forearm. “Can we go somewhere else?”

“Bathroom?” he asked straight away and you nodded. He pressed a short kiss on your lips before he slowly pulled his finger out of you. With a mixture of fascination and pure lust, he looked at his glistening finger, which had been buried deep inside you just a few moments before. “Fuck, baby,” he said softly, and you almost didn’t hear him over the sounds of your surroundings. He moved closer to you and breathed into your ear, “You turn me on so much, you have no idea. God, I’m so hard, it almost hurts.”

You whimpered as your abdomen contracted painfully around nothing at his words. Without a second thought, you broke away from him and feverishly searched your purse for the small box you always carried with you. Just in case. You would never have expected that you would use it today. You rustled and rummaged and almost let out a cry of relief when your fingers closed around the little box.

“Shhh,” someone in front of you suddenly hissed, and when you looked up, you looked directly into the annoyed eyes of the man in front of you, who had turned around during your rummaging and glared at you from between the seats.

“Sorry,” you hissed back as well, although you felt the heat spreading to your cheeks. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now – reddened cheeks, tangled hair and bloody kissed lips. But your tone of voice seemed to surprise him a bit, so he turned around without another word. 

“Wow, you can be really scary,” Hoseok laughed in your ear, and his breath tickled as the gust of air released one of your strands of hair. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled and nodded towards the end of the plane where the nearest toilets were at. 

He just shook his head laughing as he slipped into the seat next to him and then straightened up. You waited a moment, which you used to button your pants again, even though you were sure that nobody was paying attention to you two anyway. As you bridged the last meters with wobbly legs, you noticed in relief that the row behind you, and thus the last row in the plane, had remained empty on both sides. You took a quick look over your shoulder backwards before you followed Hoseok into the narrow bathroom where he held the door open for you.

“Fuck, this is smaller than I thought,” you said in surprise as you let your gaze slide through the small room.

But Hoseok just shrugged his shoulders and leaned close to you to lower the cover of the toilet. “We’ll work it out,” he reassured you and winked at you. Your stomach did somersaults again and you cursed Hoseok for the effect he had on you without much effort.

“Do you have any preferences or anything you don’t like at all?”

You thought about it for a moment, but then you shook your head. “Except anal. Not a fan of that.”

With a smile on his face, Hoseok grabbed the small box you were still holding tightly and had almost forgotten about. “Okay, good to know,” he said with a quick glance into your eyes before opening the box and taking out a condom. He put both on the shelf of the sink behind him and turned back to you.

You already noticed how much the small room was heating up and without further ado you pulled your sweater over your head, which was already sticking to you. Carefully you put it on the toilet lid and made sure that it didn’t touch anything else. 

“You’re so hot, do you know that?” Hoseok muttered and firmly grabbed your hips. He pulled you against him and willingly you pressed your hips against his, where you immediately felt more than clearly his hard erection between your legs. You rubbed your hips against his a couple of times, causing Hoseok to grunt roughly. Without hesitation, he had turned you around so he could push you backwards against the sink and let his pelvis snap hard against yours. 

You moaned loudly before you could restrain yourself and immediately Hoseok’s index finger was on your lips. Almost disapprovingly he looked at you, but his eyes were sparkling treacherously with a grin. “We have to be careful, baby. Otherwise someone might catch and interrupt us. You don’t want that, do you?”

You shook your head. The thought that someone would stop you almost brought tears of frustration to your eyes. 

“Good,” Hoseok said softly and his gaze slipped back to your lips. “Then you’d better be a good girl and be careful not to make a sound.” He moved closer and added in a whisper, “Unless you want me to punish you.”

You moaned into the kiss that Hoseok pressed on your lips and at the sound, Hoseok grabbed your butt and kneaded it hard. He pressed his hips firmly against yours again and a wave of excitement flooded through you. Soon your fingers found their way to the buttons of his jeans and a second later you unbuttoned them and pulled them down over Hoseok’s butt. 

“Do you like it from behind?” Hoseok asked and he didn’t even have to finish the sentence, you had already turned 180 degrees.

“Fuck, yes,” you replied breathlessly and opened your jeans with skillful movements. You watched in the mirror hanging directly above the sink as Hoseok fixed his gaze on your butt and massaged it with both hands. To have a little more support, you leaned forward and placed your forearms on the sink. This inevitably pushed your butt and pelvis backwards, which pressed directly against Hoseok’s cock. Hoseok cursed at the contact and you had to suppress your grin.

“God, baby, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he said and you watched him in the mirror as he reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. Your mouth watered as he wrapped his hand tightly around himself and stroked it up and down a few times. Then he grabbed the condom with one hand and returned your gaze firmly as he ripped open the package with his teeth. He grinned at you over your shoulder before he pushed your panties to the side and let his cock slide between your legs. You exhaled trembling as you felt the tip pressing against your opening and slowly penetrating you. Then Hoseok suddenly let his hips snap forward so that his cock pushed completely inside of you. Your mouth fell open to a silent scream as your inner walls were stretched by his thick cock. 

“Shhh,” Hoseok whispered and put his flat hand on your mouth so that no more sound came out of your mouth. You felt his cock slowly slide out of you before Hoseok pushed back into you with one quick movement. “Fuck, you’re so… argh, tight,” he managed to say through clenched teeth between his powerful thrusts. The obscene sound of clapping skin on skin filled the small space and you felt Hoseok squeeze your arousal out of you with each thrust, where it dripped down your thighs. 

Hoseok released his hand from your mouth, and you pulled yourself together not to moan loudly with each of his thrusts. He let his hand go under your shirt and grabbed one of your breasts after he pushed your bra down. When he rolled your nipple between two of his fingers and pinched it hard, you had to bite your lips. He released his hand from your hip, which he had previously gripped tightly, and wrapped it around your upper body to straighten you up a moment later. Your back came into contact with his upper body and you felt his muscles and hard chest in your back.

“Hoseok-ah,” you moaned as you watched in the mirror as his cock slipped between your legs and disappeared deep inside you with each thrust. It was mesmerizing to watch and with each stroke you felt his cock rubbing against your g-spot, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your orgasm. 

He also struggled to hold back with his sounds as he put his head on your shoulder and grunted in your ear. “You are fucking amazing,” he said, and focused on long, hard thrusts that pressed you firmly against the sink each time. “I can’t – fuck–” He picked up his pace and you too felt the knot in your abdomen tighten more and more. You trembled with excitement as you felt his fingers on your throat and your eyes flickered upwards to return his passionate gaze with which he was fixing you. Once he lightly squeezed with his fingers, your eyes fluttered shut with the sensation and you pulled yourself tight around his cock, which was still pumping in and out of you rigorously. “Oh baby, do you like to be choked?” His fingers closed tightly around your neck again and with an especially hard movement of his hips against your ass you came. 

Hoseok released his grip around your upper body and you used your elbows to support yourself on the sink. You covered your mouth when your orgasm came powerfully over you and Hoseok grabbed your hips with both hands to push hard into you a few more times before he also came and emptied himself into the condom. 

At the edge of your blurred perception, you heard him curse continuously before he finally came to a halt buried deep inside you. You both gasped for breath and you had to lay your heated forehead on the edge of the sink, so exhausted and spent you were. The coolness of the ceramic felt good and you closed your eyes for a moment. Only when Hoseok slowly pulled out of you and you heard him open the trash can next to the toilet to dispose the used condom, did you straighten up again. 

“Oh God,” you said breathlessly and heard Hoseok laugh behind you. When your gaze found his in the mirror, a bright smile spread across his face.

“I hope a good ‘Oh God’?” His fingers found your panties, which he put back in place and which you hadn’t even noticed. You were too focused on getting your breathing back under control and holding yourself upright on your shaky legs. He also helped you to pull your jeans back up.

You nodded and a little smile came over your face as you buttoned your pants and reached for your sweater. When you pulled it over your head and there was nothing but darkness around you for a brief moment, you felt your heart beating up to your neck. And you knew that it wasn’t just because of the physical effort and your orgasm. 

You were afraid if you were completely honest with yourself. 

What was that between you now? Were you just a quick fuck to him? And what was he to you? What did you want from him?

When your head came through the opening of your sweater, your eyes found Hoseok, who looked at you with a little smile on his lips.

“What?” you asked, laughing softly, but he shook his head briefly and took a step towards you, so that he stood right in front of you. 

He lifted his hand and his fingers stroked your hair gently, almost lovingly, “You are incredible, I just wanted to tell you that.”

His sentence hung in the air like a half spoken confession and you were frantically searching for an answer. You managed nothing more than a little laugh, though, and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. His thumb stroked over them while he watched you. God, you couldn’t stop smiling. Especially not when he looked back at you with that grin. 

It was quiet between the two of you, only the loud engine noises of the airplane could be heard and for a short moment you had forgotten that you were several kilometers above the ground. This realization literally brought you back to earth and Hoseok seemed to realize this as well.

“We should go back,” you noticed after another moment when none of you moved from the spot.

Hoseok cleared his throat before nodding and letting his hand fall. “You’re probably right. Do you want to go first?”

“Okay,” you agreed with him and grabbed the small box that you put in the pocket of your hoodie. The two of you changed positions before you bent forward and pressed your ear against the door to check if someone was in the hallway. Except for the loud engines, you couldn’t hear anything. Your fingers found the latch of the door and pushed it aside. You turned to him again and said a quiet “See you in a moment,” before quickly squeezing out of the small room and closing the door behind you. 

You were more than happy when you dropped down to your seat, exhausted, and had not met anyone. It seemed as if most of the passengers had gone to sleep in the meantime, since the lights in the passenger compartment were also turned off for the most part. But you knew that at least for the next hour you wouldn’t be able to get any sleep. At least not if your heartbeat didn’t calm down soon and continued to throb in your ears.

But you were wrong. You noticed how Hoseok came back as well, but your eyelids had already become heavy. It seemed as if the stress of the past weeks was finally catching up with you and your body was getting what it desperately needed and why you had gone away in the first place: rest. And sleep.

The last thing you noticed that night was your head falling to the side and landing on something hard and a soft touch on your cheek.

The next time you opened your eyes, you had no idea how much time had passed. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and straightened yourself up with a soft groan when you realized how your whole body hurt. Confused, you squinted as the sun and sudden brightness blinded you. You could swear that it had been pitch black a moment before. Astonished, you turned your head and winced when you noticed how stiff your neck was. 

“Good morning,” said a soft voice and blinking, you looked up at the person sitting next to you. Hoseok had a warm smile on his lips as you tried to understand where you were and what had happened.

Then everything hit you full speed. Your ex-boyfriend, your spontaneous decision to travel for a few days, the handsome stranger at the airport who turned out to be Hoseok, and finally… “Hi,” you croaked and cleared your throat to release the lump in your dry throat.

Hoseok laughed. “You were completely out of it. You just slept through six hours. I’ve never seen that on a flight before.”

“Six hours, huh?” you asked and leaned back in your seat. When realization hit you, your eyes widened in shock. “Six hours?” you asked stunned and looked at Hoseok, who just nodded. “That means we’re almost there, doesn’t it?”

“We’re already on the approach,” Hoseok explained and your heart sank as he said. 

Great, so you slept through the entire time you would have had with Hoseok. You beat yourself up on the inside as you thought about what he must think of you now. Falling asleep just like that, without another word after your… act. He probably thought that you found him boring or not good. Fuck, what if he thought you were just pretending to sleep so you wouldn’t have to talk to him? Oh no, oh no, oh no, that wasn’t good at all. 

You noticed your heartbeat quickening and pure panic gripped you. You had to set it right, right now. “Hoseok,” you started and he looked up from his laptop. “I–” you started, but then you were interrupted by a stewardess who told you to fold up your tables and fasten your seat belts. You complied and you watched from the corner of your eye as Hoseok neatly stowed his laptop in his bag. When he straightened up, you were already looking at him. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at you in surprise. Then he tilted his head. “What exactly are you apologizing for? If it’s for last night,” the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he remembered, “then you don’t need to apologize for anything. Not at all.”

The heat rose to your cheeks as your thoughts drifted to the previous night. You nervously intertwined your fingers as you searched for the right words. But Hoseok interrupted your flood of thoughts when you suddenly felt his fingers under your chin and he lifted your head slightly so you looked at him. “Are you okay?”

Fuck, it was definitely not normal for your stomach to somersault at the way he was looking at you. Too nervous to speak, you just nodded, “Well then,” Hoseok replied, and his eyes flickered briefly to your lips before he dropped his hand and turned his attention forward. A moment later, you felt the wheels of the plane touch the ground and the plane slowed down. As you looked out the window and saw the buildings of the airport just a few meters away from you, you realized that you really had already landed. That it was not a dream. And that you would part ways with Hoseok in a few minutes. You didn’t even want to think about the possibility that you might – presumably – probably – never see him again. 

By the time the plane had stopped, connected to the bridge to the building, and the stewardesses told you that you could get up, you had already convinced yourself that it had been nothing more than something quick and easy for him. A one-off. You flinched at the word. You picked up your things like all the other passengers and walked one after the other down the narrow corridor to the exit. Your gaze fell on the back of Hoseok’s head, from which his hair stood out in all directions, probably from sleeping. You would love to run your fingers through his soft hair and straighten it. But you didn’t know how he would react and if he would welcome your touch. 

You said goodbye to the crew and you shivered slightly as you experienced the first touch of cooler weather. Hoseok took rapid strides and you had trouble keeping up with him. Did he want to outrun you? Was he hoping you would disappear into the crowd and he could steal away just like that?

Just as those self-destructive thoughts came to your mind, Hoseok looked over his shoulder and slowed down his steps. He reached out his hand to you, which you gratefully took. 

“Sorry,” he said and you had trouble understanding him over the bustle at the airport. “I have an important appointment in an hour and I have to hurry a little.” You had arrived at the baggage claim and Hoseok pointed with his thumb over his shoulder towards the exit. “I’m only traveling with hand luggage because I’m only staying a few days and normally I’m a gentleman and would help you with your suitcase, but–”

“It’s okay, Hoseok,” you placated him when you noticed how he drifted more and more into a monologue. You did the same thing when you were nervous and had to smile when you noticed this similarity. “Good luck at the meeting.” 

Ask him for his phone number.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok replied and a moment later pulled you into a firm hug. You took a deep breath and his masculine, soothing scent enveloped you. You were certain that he was giving you a kiss on your hair, but you weren’t absolutely sure about the soft touch. Before you could say anything, he had detached himself from you again and had taken a few steps back. 

Ask him before it is too late.

He gave you another smile before he turned 180 degrees and walked towards the exit. Your lips were sealed as you watched him move meter by meter away from you. 

His name was on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly turned and shouted over the distance: “Let me know what you think of the end of 1Q84!” Confused, you frowned. How would you do that? Hoseok seemed to notice your hesitation, but he just grinned and pointed to your backpack, which was hanging from one of your shoulders. 

As quickly as you could, you pulled it off your shoulder, struggled to open the zipper with your trembling fingers and then rummaged for your book. Unlike the small box, you found it immediately and turned to your bookmark. When a small piece of paper fell towards you, you looked up smiling and relieved. You just saw Hoseok waving to you and you thought you could hear his laugh even from a distance before he disappeared around the corner. 

I really hope you liked this short oneshot and I’m more than happy about any feedback! Please stay safe and healthy! See you soon! 💜

[we-pay-for-everything]

Trinity, Trinity, Trinity

*Spoilers for The Matrix: Resurrections*

First of all, I’m a huge Matrix fan. They’re my favorite movies. I love Trinity so much, and Neo was my first crush- Trinity/Neo were the first pair I shipped before I even knew what shipping was. I love the philosophy of the trilogy. It’s such a rich and complex world.

So, yes, I do understand what the movie was lacking. The bad guys were uninteresting and there wasn’t even an actual “fight” between them. The actions scenes were accessory to the movie, instead of driving it - because, like Niobe said, the war was over. This movie wasn’t about a war, or fighting the Machines. There was no resolution. Most people chose the Matrix, so it would always exist until people chose freedom and empowerment over comfort and certainty - exactly like in the real world, which is what the trilogy was always trying to depict. Lana knew there was nothing more to add in terms of lore and philosophy. I believe she wanted to end the series on a positive note, with no deaths, and also to fix her mistakes. 

Yes, the humor was bad, the villains were too, Neo was stripped of the magic of being The One, the beautiful leads were “old” now, the social commentary was shoehorned in at times, and the meta commentary was silly. But the idea of Neo being stuck in the Matrix was intriguing, the casting for Morpheus was badass, Bugs was amazing, the throwbacks to the original trilogy were quite good, the music was good as always, and the first half of the story was particularly great. 

But let’s talk about what sets this movie apart from the originals. Lana identified as a man when she first wrote the original movies with her sister. She’s a woman now and it’s clear she knew Trinity was a great character with a major flaw: her purpose had been to fall in love with the One for whom she eventually died (and everyone else too). More than anything, this movie was a redemption of Trinity’s character and a feminist revamp of the Matrix, both of which were much appreciated. The Matrix was game changing when it came out, and although this one isn’t, the fact that they took a highly popular franchise and flipped it on its head for the sake of feminism is actually quite a big deal, and the explicit way in which they switched Trinity and Neo’s roles without pulling any punches was... shocking and monumental, to say the least, but also, unprecedented, and game changing, even. They didn’t play it safe at all. Such overt, even inelegant (yes, I admit to that), feminist agenda was never going to win many people over. Yet they did it. Unlike in many failed revivals, instead of trying to recreate the magic of the first films, they left everything unchanged (the core of the Matrix, re: free will) and instead acknowledged and fixed its mistakes (which weren’t huge mistakes - Trinity was always a well-written character who shined on her own). 

I was truly blown-away by the plot twist of Trinity being The One, sort of. This movie was a love story meant to empower Trinity. Neo was looking for her. His purpose was to love and find her. Only with both of them free could the Matrix be rewritten again. They acknowledged the truth of the first films, which was that Neo needed Trinity, but elevated her from her status as “side kick”. Truthfully, they didn’t change Neo’s character a lot - he never truly saw himself as The One and he chose to save Trinity over anything else in The Matrix: Reloaded. But stripping Neo was of much of his power and giving Trinity so much power was new. In this universe, they are both part of the Matrix’s design, which makes neither more powerful or important than the other. Even if the power was more in favor of Neo at first, in the end it was the opposite. Maybe it was unnecessary for Neo to watch Trinity kick ass, and also to be told to “control” her, but these things are meaningful too - even if graceless from an artistic pov. 

Frankly, all I wanted from this movie was for Trinity to be alive again and for the two of them to have a happily ever after. I didn’t count on loving the movie. While this movie isn’t better than the first three, and I still have to wrap my head around how they totally changed Neo and Trinity, I loved it. As a feminist, this movie was brilliant. Trinity questioned if the reason why she wanted to have children was because she wanted it or because she was told to, and eventually she chose Neo over her fake children - another bit of feminist commentary that was a bit on the nose, yet refreshing. 

Really, this movie gave us: a bonafide love story, Bugs, a very, very hot Morpheus, a happy ending, amazing fashion, a feminist masterpiece.

I cannot stress enough how unheard of it is for a female character to be a powerful hero, especially a woman in her 50s. They made a woman in her 50s The One. It’s crazy how, not only is she a female hero, she’s also not like Wonder Woman or Captain Marvel - ie. a woman who was supposed to be a hero from the beginning and is young. They literally said: you know what, Trinity deserved better, so there you go, we fixed things. It’s like fanfiction brought to life, but in a good way.

Kudos to Lana Wachowski and the other writers. They brought something new to the table and contributed something meaningful to the feminist movement and cinema in general. I hope more filmmakers follow their lead and avenge their female characters. With that being said, I wish Trinity had been a more decisive force in the movie. She only made one crucial choice. Everything was about her, but she didn’t really have much agency or a chance to empower herself. They still did her dirty by giving her less screentime than Neo, but I think in order to tell this story, maybe their hands were a bit tied. They did well regardless. 

[ibijau]

Counterfeit AU pt5 / On AO3

Lan Xichen, left alone, discovers something about Nie Huaisang

Sitting on a kitchen chair, Lan Xichen listens as Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian try to explain to him who they are. He half wishes he could tell them that he remembers… not everything, not yet (not ever, a part of him hopes) but certainly enough that introductions aren’t quite needed. Words don’t quite make it to his mouth though, his mind still struggling to accept what’s going on. Lan Xichen, until now, always prided himself in being a rational man.

It’s hard to be rational when faced with your brother from another life, whose husband tells you that they have been looking for you for centuries, because apparently they’re immortals.

It’s odd that Lan Xichen accepts that part so easily. Immortals only exist in stories, he would have said just a few hours ago. Now though… well, there’s something not fully human to Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, a touch of something more.

“It’s only the second time we find you,” Wei Wuxian says, glancing at his husband. Lan Wangji’s expression is nearly unchanged, but Lan Xichen can tell he is deeply distraught. “Well, the second time we find you where you’re still alive,” Wei Wuxian corrects, making his husband wince slightly. “We were always too late, somehow. Every time we reached you, you’d died already. Even the other time we found you alive barely counts. You were very, very old, and you weren’t quite all there anymore. You didn’t really recognise your actual family, so two strangers from another life… and anyway, you died the night we arrived.”

Lan Wangji flinches, which makes Lan Xichen want to scold Wei Wuxian because surely, after so long alive, he should have learned by now to be a little more considerate to the feelings of others, shouldn’t he? But before he can say anything, Wei Wuxian leans toward his husband and takes his hand, intertwining their fingers in a way that makes Lan Wangji relax.

In another life, Lan Xichen had sometimes taken those gestures of affection as an attack, when he had lost so much himself. He'd known, even then, that it was an irrational reaction. At least now he can watch those two and feel nothing except some relief that things worked out so well for them. 

"Are there more like you?" he asks. 

"Immortals? Not that many," Wei Wuxian admits. "I got to meet Baoshan Sanren, but of our generation only the two of us and Nie-xiong became immortals. Well, and Lan Jingyi became a god, but he's busy and we don't see him a lot. Oh, and Song Lan was around too for a long while of course, but about five centuries ago Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing's souls finally recovered from being fractured, so they all three re-entered the cycle of reincarnation. And then there's a few others from before, though not many from after. We're not sure why, but two or three generations after us, it just stopped happening."

Lan Xichen lets out a sigh. It's not that he particularly expected anything, but he feels disappointed anyway. 

"Xiongzhang might still meet others," Lan Wangji says in what seems intended as a comforting tone. He has improved in expressing himself, or else Lan Xichen remembers this too. "From that first life we all shared. Maybe from following ones, if they impacted your soul enough." 

"Oh," Lan Xichen says. His hands clench over his knees. He wonders if there's anyone he might want to meet again, when he died feeling he had failed everyone, that first time. 

“It will all come back to you here and there,” Wei Wuxian explains. “You might also realise you already know other people from before. I’ve been told it’s a weird feeling, but you get used to it.”

Lan Xichen considers this, and tries to guess who this might concern. For some reason, his little brother comes to mind, but that might be only wishful thinking. Same with his father. Maybe he actually hasn't encountered anyone from his past. No one except, of course… 

“I’ve met Meng Yao,” Lan Xichen says.

The other two men grimace.

“Hopefully you’ll also meet people you like,” Wei Wuxian replies with an embarrassed cough.

Lan Xichen, who likes Meng Yao very much indeed, stares at him blankly. What right does this stranger to pass judgement on his… not boyfriend, not exactly. Not yet. Lan Xichen was still working out the courage to have that conversation, to see if Meng Yao might be amenable to real dates, to kissing, to…

It won’t happen now.

It won’t happen because in another life, Lan Xichen murdered Meng Yao.

He didn’t particularly want to, he vaguely recalls. It had been a last resort, and to be frank Meng Yao had brought it upon himself. Still, the fact remains that Lan Xichen killed one of the men he… well, he might have loved him, back then. It’s hard to say for sure. But it is quite certain that Lan Xichen killed him, and even after several lifetimes, he’s not sure Meng Yao will have forgiven him.

He didn’t use to be a very forgiving man.

"Speaking of the devil, better go check what's going on in that basement before it turns bad," Wei Wuxian mutters, glancing in direction of the kitchen door. "Just because he's never killed Nie-xiong yet doesn't mean he can't do it ever. Hey, Lan-da-ge, do you need a ride back home?" 

The nickname feels like a slap. 

Lan Xichen remembers he could never quite decide whether he liked Wei Wuxian or not, in that first life. 

He's still not sure he does. 

"I have a taxi coming," he announces. "But thanks for the offer. I just wish to have some time to digest all of this." 

Wei Wuxian shrugs, apparently unconcerned, and leaves the kitchen. While he's gone, Lan Wangji politely asks if they might exchange phone numbers. He won't force the acquaintance, he explains, but he'd be grateful if this favour were granted. 

Lan Xichen, weak to little brothers of his in this life as in every others, readily agrees. 

Lan Wangji, so dry and formal in speech, texts with emojis everywhere. Lan Xichen is endeared, and wonders if that is Wei Wuxian's influence at play. 

Maybe he does like Wei Wuxian a little, if he can help his brother express himself more easily. 

After a little while, Lan Xichen hears two pairs of feet on the stairs coming from the basement. Wei Wuxian calls only for Lan Wangji to join them in the entrance, but Lan Xichen springs to his feet, knocking down the chair in his haste. He takes one long step, two, three, and reaches the kitchen door. From there he sees Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang at the door, the former making a joke of some sort, the later trying to put on shoes as fast as he can. They both look up when they notice a presence hovering by the kitchen door.

Nie Huaisang goes pale at the sight of Lan Xichen. His face grows tight, his lips twisting into a grimace that might be disgust, or horror, or something else entirely. Whatever it is, it makes Nie Huaisang jump to his feet and run out of the door, nearly tripping on his half tied shoelaces. Wei Wuxian sighs and shakes his head, but says nothing, even as a car door opens and closes with a slam somewhere outside. 

"Nie Huaisang hasn't changed," Lan Wangji says as he joins them

Wei Wuxian and him exchange a look. To Lan Xichen, it looks like a long conversation without words. After so long together, some things might no longer need to be said. 

"Do you want us to stay until your taxi is here?" Wei Wuxian asks, nodding toward the basement stairs. Toward Meng Yao. "You know, in case…" 

Lan Xichen considers saying yes, then feels ashamed of himself for thinking like this. Whatever happened in another life, and even if it ruins any chance of romance in the present, Lan Xichen cannot imagine this current Meng Yao harming him. 

Perhaps Lan Xichen too hasn't changed, in spite of several lifetimes which should have taught him better. 

He shakes his head. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian look unhappy, but don't insist. They tell him, again, to call them, to get in touch, to allow them in his life if he can, and leave. 

As soon as their car leaves, Meng Yao emerges from the basement and heads out as well. He looks like he cried, or like he might cry later. He doesn't spare Lan Xichen a single glance, but he seems in such a state that he might just not have noticed the other man.

That second car speeds into the distance.

Just like that, Lan Xichen is alone. 

Of course that's hardly new. He spent a few decades alone in this cold house, reflecting on his mistakes. A prison of his own making, with no company but guilt and brushes. Music he'd abandoned after how much it had cost him, but calligraphy, but poetry, but painting… 

He painted a lot, and burned it all every now and then. He was never skill enough to produce anything worth keeping, anyway, unlike… 

Lan Xichen's eyes wander toward those downward stairs. He came here for a reason, he remembers, and while he might have ruined many things, perhaps this at least he can still have. 

When he reaches the basement, Lan Xichen finds the door to Nie Huaisang’s workshop open. A fit of forgetfulness which he takes as an invitation. 

Just as Meng Yao promised, this workshop is filled with paintings in Nie Huaisang’s hand. Some appear to be reproductions of pieces Lan Xichen has seen before… unless they are originals. The notes attached to a few appear doubtful, as if the artist himself cannot remember anymore when he first painted each piece. A few are copies of other artists' work, more carefully hidden and annotated. Those, as far as Lan Xichen can tell when it isn't his subject of predilection, are mostly lost artwork. Judging by the notes, they all belonged to masters whom Nie Huaisang once met in person. 

Most interesting to Lan Xichen are Nie Huaisang’s own lost works, reproduced by his own hand and carefully labelled. The titles are familiar, as are the subjects in some cases thanks to old descriptions. But it is the first time Lan Xichen sees those, and with each one he feels he uncovers another secret of this artist he has so extensively studied.

The brushstrokes here are innovative, showing progress from this earlier work. But there the curves and lines of mountains, a little clumsy if considered alone, announce the brilliance of a future series. And then there are portraits of disciples, views of the Unclean Realm, all rumoured to have existed but lost to collectors centuries ago. Those are the only ones whose notes do not mention when the originals were lost or destroyed, so it might be that Nie Huaisang, missing his long gone home, bought back the shadows of his old life.

Painting by painting, Nie-Huaisang-the-artist unveils himself to Lan Xichen. 

Nie-Huaisang-the-man remains a mystery, until Lan Xichen, having observed and photographed everything else, becomes curious about the desk's two drawers. 

In the top one he finds doodles and notes, post-its about orders, lists of works already in collections. There are also candy wrappers, some ancient coins, a novel in a foreign language with a crumbling bookmark. Nie Huaisang hasn't changed, still messy. It makes Lan Xichen want to laugh and cry, thinking of his uncle who once thought he could correct Nie Huaisang’s bad habits. A fight lost from the start, he realises. 

Finding nothing useful in this drawer, Lan Xichen is about to open the other one when, somewhere far above him, a car's horn announces that his taxi is here at last. It would be rude to make the driver wait, Lan Xichen thinks, and the first draw contained nothing important, so it is unlikely the second will be different. 

It would be wise to leave this place, forget about it, return to his quiet and ordinary life. He'll write his book or he won't, and then move on to something less intimage.

It would be wise and Lan Xichen even takes a step toward the door before changing his mind. He cannot let this last shred of curiosity go unsatisfied. He still carries too many regrets from his previous lives, he cannot accumulate new ones already. 

Lan Xichen opens the other drawer, and gasps.

Unlike the rest of the room where everything is organised and cared for, this drawer is filled with piled up sheets of paper that appear to have been unceremoniously thrown there. On top of the pile is the portrait of a melancholic looking man dressed all in white, wearing an embroidered ribbon on his forehead. On the corner of the page, a scribbled note reads ‘more smile’, as well as a recent date.

Without thinking Lan Xichen grabs the painting to get a better look. As he does so, the next sheet of paper on the pile is revealed: another portrait of the same man, nearly identical, though the note is different. Its date is a year earlier, and it reads ‘too stern’. Lan Xichen grabs that painting too, and the next, browsing through them with increasing franzy.

There are well over a hundred portraits of the same man in that drawer, going back centuries. The styles change depending on their age, reflecting the preference of that era. They all have a date, and most have a comment of sorts as well, usually criticising some element of the portrait that must be corrected to achieve true likeness.

A hundred portraits of Lan Xichen.

Because that is him, he knows, even if no name is mentioned. This is who he was in that first life.

Or at least, it is how Nie Huaisang remembered him. The oldest of those paintings is still dated to nearly five centuries after Lan Xichen’s first death, and there’s a roughness to it, a sentiment of urgency, that makes him think it really is the first of that series, that there were no others before that. Even accounting for style, that first painting looks different from the others, it is unpolished and vague, as if Nie Huaisang had almost forgotten what Lan Xichen looked like. The notes on that first painting are scathing, full of reproach about being too stupid to remember what ‘er-ge’ looked like.

How odd, Lan Xichen thinks.

They never really met again, Nie Huaisang and him. Not after the murder of Jin Guangyao. He remembers assuming that Nie Huaisang would have killed him too if he could have. He remembers how that assumption had hurt, and how it had taken him years of isolation to finally realise that what he had felt for Nie Huaisang, just like what he had felt for Jin Guangyao, had gone beyond the acceptable limits of friendship. A realisation come too late, supposing there could ever have been a right time for the three of them. 

What a fool he'd been, loving those two men who must have despised him for his weaknesses. 

What a fool he must still be, having learned nothing from the past. 

[cloud9in]

The Half of It

A Mc x Poppy fic inspired by the film 

Summary: Bea, the town’s outcast is recruited by the school jock to win Poppy’s heart. But what happens when she starts falling for her as well?

Author’s Note: So this will be a multiple part series that includes scenes heavily inspired from the movie “The Half of It”. I certainly recommend watching it. My version will have different twists and a different ending, and definitely more angst. It will include mature themes as the story progresses.

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing. This is a good thing for now.

Chapter 1- 

“Love is simply the name for desire and pursuit of the whole.”

                                                   - Plato, The Symposium

It is said that when one half finds its other, there’s an unspoken understanding. A unity. And each would know no greater joy....than this. 

 ...Except this is highschool. And in my opinion, there is no other half. Maybe the other half is a paper on Greek God philosophy due at midnight. But make that four papers, including mine. 

 My name is Bea Hughes and let’s just say...this is not a very happy story. Well maybe some parts are, but you’ll have to read to find out. I come from a small town called Farmsville, and when I mean small, I mean really small. Except the highschool seems fucking huge, with never ending hallways and when you do somehow find the end, there’s usually two inbreds eating each others mouths off. Lucky for me I am the epitome of antisocial, reserved, an introvert, or whatever the inferior beings, aka every other senior, calls me when they think I can’t hear. But I hear everything, including that one time Bradley Denbrough, upcoming hotshot actor, or so he claims, found out about a crush a poor unsuspecting freshman had on him. Everybody knew what Bradley and his goons did to that boy, even the adults, but no charges were pressed. This town is as conservative as it gets, but no one knows of my secret. I carry this school on my back when it comes to having everyone graduate, but that’s all I am to them, a pawn. And that’s all I wanted to be, nothing more and nothing less. I preferred to be in the shadows. 

 ***

 ...Except the mandatory Senior Talent Show forced Bea out of her hibernation hole. The thought haunted her as she sat in the dance studio, the last fucking place she wanted to be. Dance was so not a Bea kinda thing, but the blonde knew exactly why she granted herself the misery of picking the class. Poppy Min Sinclair, the golden girl of Farmsville High, the preacher’s daughter on a more serious note. She is...the most fascinating girl Bea ever laid her eyes on even if her boyfriend was a complete asshole who sermonized his duties as her future husband. Like seriously? Poppy has got to have some screws loose to date such a fake loser who plagiarizes all of his speeches at sunday church, and once literally begged Bea to write an apology letter to his father for him after completely upending their summer cabin. Except the blonde wrote the opposite of an apology, it went something like this…

 Dear beloved donkey, I mean dad,

 I am terribly sorry for inviting 20 hookers to the summer cabin. I have these strange impulses and you should at least be grateful I didn’t invite the big boss as well. His wife came though, in many, many ways. You should get the carpet changed. 

 Sincerely, your STD free son

 It was safe to say that Mr. Denbrough had a near heart attack after reading it, and Bea did kinda feel bad, kinda. He never mentioned the letter to Bradley though, instead silently calling up the owner of Teopoli Catholic Summer Camp and essentially deporting the boy to Canada for the summer. No son of his would end up in hell was what the old man preached everyday from then on. It was the quietest summer Bea had ever experienced. 

 Being the towns outcast, Bea could have her fun when she so chooses to, but that didn’t pay the bills. In fact, the multiple essays that people paid her to write was her way of surviving and taking care of her mother. They weren’t very rich but Bea worked with what she had, helping her mother manage the farm, which included getting on her knees and wrestling the pigs. And that’s how she was gifted the name “pig girl”, stupid Bradley and his fake friends just had to wander too far and catch Bea in the act. She swore a remixed video of her hog calling surfaced the web at one point and that gave the blonde her five minutes of fame. Boy was it an awful time in her life. 

 Bea worked her mother’s previous job as station master or signalman for the trains that passed through, even if it barely paid her shit. The secluded feeling of sitting in that booth and having a moment with her thoughts was enough to give her purpose. Bea was fond of poetry and it usually helped her come up with song lyrics.

 Song lyrics…

 That she would have to sing at the talent show. A huge sigh escaped her lips as she slumped further into the ground, maybe hoping she could bury herself six feet under. It wasn’t that Bea hated singing, no she absolutely loved it. Playing her guitar at night and belting out lyrics that only resulted in her mother banging on the ceiling below in efforts to shut the blonde up. But the mere fact that she’d have to sing in front of the ruthless seniors rubbed her the wrong way. Something would go wrong, it always did. Bea was shaken out of her thoughts when Poppy crossed the center of the room, moving her hips slowly to the sound of Rihanna’s voice. The class chose a slow r&b song to choreograph today and of course all eyes were on Poppy.

 If i’m your girl say my name boy

let me know i'm in control

 Her silky blonde locks swayed as she danced to the beat, hands thrusting sensually along her sides. Bea stared in awe, almost like Poppy was the only one in the room and a spotlight illuminated every movement, every curve. Except she definitely wasn’t the only one picturing Poppy in that way. Carter, the school quarterback leaned against the railing, arms crossed and eyes trailing the rise and fall of her chest. 

 Got me wondering, I’m wondering if i'm on your mind

 Bea sat up straighter but nearly lost her bodily functions when Poppy locked eyes with her before spinning away. It was simple eye contact Bea, don’t let it get to your head. You already have multiple lyrics inspired by Poppy offering the bare minimum in human interaction. She doesn’t actually like you. Poppy is popular and has the perfect life...and boyfriend, even if Bea heavily disagrees. Poppy was a bitch of course, but not a bitch bitch. Unlike the other wannabe mean girls, the blonde didn’t give Bea hell, well that was because the girl paid her zero attention. She seemed distant, off in her own world, or well in her parents world learning the strategies of business. Poppy was expected to follow in her parents footsteps and keep up with her reputation of being the richest in town, and of course a faithful future wife. So fun. But the blonde had other prosperous dreams of travelling and following her passion of music and dance. Highschool was her only outlet and she took advantage of it any chance she’d get. Bea knew this because she would ride her bike every friday night to the school and watch Poppy dance from outside the glass window. Maybe Bea realized it was kinda creepy, but she’s dumb enough to not realize her obvious growing attraction. I mean who pedals miles just to watch someone trip on their feet? 

 ***

 The sound of the bell caught everyone's attention and the teacher slowly lowered the music. Bea watched as Bradley approached Poppy and smothered her with kisses and praises. She rolled her eyes painfully, this kind of PDA definitely wasn’t it, she could have gone her whole life without seeing that. She walked silently through the crowd of kids in the hall, everyone was laughing and talking to their friends. All Bea could allow her mind to focus on was the very intimidating billboard of names a few feet across from her. 

 Winter Talent Show Sign-Ups (Mandatory For Seniors)

 Bea glared at it quietly before signing her name on the sheet, sealing her inevitable fate. Through the hustle of students, Carter watched the blonde with a yearning look from afar. This should be great…

 The next few classes were a blur and Bea eventually found herself getting up to hand Ms. Kingsley her paper. The older woman looked at her with a knowing glance as she took a generous sip of her coffee, which was 75% tequila.

 “6 different interpretations on Plato? Colour me impressed Miss Hughes.” 

 Bea shrugs nonchalant, “yeah well would you rather read their actual essays?”

 “Oh hell no.” Kingsley feigns shock as she looks at the stack of papers with a comical expression. She takes another sip, watching her younger, prodigy of a student carefully. “You know there are places outside of this godforsaken town where you can put your talents to use... Real use. I teach at Belvoire University occasionally.” Ina winks and slides Bea an application, studying her initial reaction. “It’s...in New York.”

“Damn right! The Big Apple.”

 “Kingsley you know I have to stay here. It’ll be easier for me to manage the farm and be close to home”, Bea says confidently even though her body language displays otherwise. She predicted the big sigh filling her ears before it actually happened and it still managed to faze her. “Who ever said you had to do anything? What about what you want to do?” Bea doesn’t make eye contact with Ina, that woman could convince you to do just about anything with a certain look. “No we are not doing this. You can take your reverse psychology and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I’m outta here.” The blonde stomps out of the classroom, the sound of Ina’s chuckles still ringing in her ears.

 “Hey! Everyone in this town fears God, but you know what God fears? My ability to hide a bottle of Don Julio in my left boot.” Ina pulls out the newly bought bottle and cradles it. “Come to mama.”

 ***

 Bea rode her bike alongside the dirt road, Kingsley’s words on replay the entire ride. Maybe she did deserve to experience something more than what this town had to offer. But would her mother manage without her? Sacrifices, sacrifices. Bea was used to making those for her mother after her father’s death. What would her dad think of all of this?

 “Hey!”

 He’d surely smack Bea upside the head for the little antics she pulled occasionally. And then he’d buy her vanilla coconut ice cream and ask for every single detail of what happened as they sat and laughed together. That’s the kind of relationship Bea would have had with her father, she liked to assume so. She also liked to assume that she’d get home safely everyday without a scratch, but then there’s Carter.

 “Hey wait up!” 

 The jock seemed to be running ridiculously fast and crashed right into the rear end of Bea’s bicycle, sending her face first into a mount of dirt. The initial impact was enough to boost the blonde straight back up like nothing happened and into a fighting stance, fists out and eyes wild. Very scary Bea. When she realized it was him...well it only pissed her off even more. “What the fuck Carter! You asshole!”

 “I’m sorry Bea! Here let me help-”

 “No! Move away! You- my bike- I…” Bea groans frustratingly, stepping away from the wreck as she tries to catch her breath. Carter watches her sheepishly, rubbing an envelope between his fingers awkwardly. After a few minutes of painfully uneasy silence he speaks up, “Okay...I didn’t want to ask you this way but I was wonder-”

“Oh, so you practically break my ass and now you want me to do you a favour? Real nice way of communication you have there Mr. Quarterback. What is with you and those freakishly large muscles anyways? Maybe it’s my fault I didn’t hear your avalanche built ass coming from behind.”

 “Hey! They are not freakishly large!”

 “I hate to break it to you Jackson but mine are significantly more appealing to look at.” Bea smirks widely, flexing her arm as best as she could. It’s a work in progress… just bare with her.

 It didn’t take much effort for Carter to break out into a smile and look at her fondly. Maybe there was more to this girl than just being a human dictionary. Well that’s what people called her, and he maybe believed it at first.

 Bea noticed the lack of response and shifted awkwardly, clearing her throat. “Listen, its $10 for three pages, $20 for three to ten, I'm not in the over-ten-page biz.”

 “No..no I’m not here to cheat!” Carter blurts out. “But I’ll let you know if I do plan on- anyways. I uh..” He hesitates before handing her the envelope. “What’s this?

 “Well you see it’s a letter..”

 “Yeah but who writes letters these days?”

 “I thought it seemed romantic..”

 “And I thought women writing Jeffrey Dahmer letters in jail seemed romantic”, Bea says sarcastically, her smile dropping instantly after catching a glimpse of Poppy’s name at the top of the paper. It was like the blood stopped flowing through her body for a few seconds as her mouth went dry. This had to be the work of the so-called God everyone praised in this town, or it was one cruel coincidence. Bea wasn’t sure why seeing her name made her heart beat ten times harder, but it also wasn’t a necessarily uncomfortable feeling…

 “I- I can’t help you.”

 “But if you just add a few more words-”

 “I’m not writing a letter to Poppy Min Sincla- to..to some girl for you. Letters are supposed to be authentic, from the heart, your own words, your...feelings.” Bea hurriedly turns to grab her bike, suddenly losing all interest in being social. 

 Carter was afraid this would happen. But he was stubborn. “But I can pay more for authentic!” 

 Too bad Bea was stubborn as well. “Just get a thesaurus...Good luck, Romeo.”

***

 Bea sat in her room, strumming away softly at the strings of her guitar. Some of the keys were off but the old thing still worked, and that was good enough for her. She could hear the tv blasting downstairs, her mother most likely watching the news. There’s something about old people and news, were they secretly ogling the news anchors? Just like Bea ogled Poppy any chance she could. The blonde frowned to herself, her eyebrows crunching together in question. What so hard about writing a letter to Poppy? It’s not like it's coming from her. Well it technically is, but Carter is taking the credit and Bea never had a problem with people taking credit for her words. So why did this very thought prove to be such an inconvenience? Lucky for Bea, her mind drifted elsewhere when she heard a painful snap. Even if it wasn’t physically connected to her body, she felt a horrible ache. Slowly peering down at the guitar in her hand, Bea found that the neck of the guitar had miraculously split almost clean off, a splinter of wood just holding it intact. She wanted to scream but nothing really came out, except air of course. Much to her disapproval, this was definitely a result of her strength. Stupid muscles couldn’t contain themselves at the thought of Carter being with Poppy. Now how could that be? 

 But now she had no guitar. And no guitar means no strings to strum, and no lyrics to sing, and no talent to show at the talent show. Now she was in trouble. Probably because she knew that the only way to get the money to replace the guitar would be through sealing the deal with Carter. Oh fuck it!

 ***

 “One letter. And enough money to buy a new guitar.”

 “Deal!”

 Bea turns away with a sigh, completely ignoring Carter’s high five. Now all she had to do was write this letter, and pray that Poppy wouldn’t completely consume every fiber of her being in the process.

                                 -------------------------------------------

End note: So how we feelin’? Carter and Bea Brotp??

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @zigxryanz @uselesslesbianfr @aleiramacaii @thedaft1 @alexlabhont @iamsimpforpoppy

[juleswritesthis]

Roswell NM 3x11 Thoughts (I have a lot of thoughts!!!)

Contrary to popular opinion I really liked this episode. Yes, the science was so made up it was funny, yes certain character choices are hilariously silly, yes there was a lot of scenes filled with exposition dump, yes characters disappearing for episodes not to be mentioned as if they don’t exist is jarring & annoying, and omg yes, the Wyatt arc (if you can call it that) fell flat and was a complete waste of valuable screen time. So yes, I agree with most everyone’s assessment. That said still a very enjoyable and entertaining episode setting up the final concluding 2 hours of the season. Let’s get into it.

Jones is highly entertaining, overly good looking, and sometimes hilarious villain. Nathan shines bringing charm and depth to the role. Its important to note that Jones hasn’t caused any lasting damage to the group. Sure, he has tried to kill various members, he’s responsible for putting Maria in a coma & has kidnapped half the cast basically, kept our heroes busy all season. But when it comes to killing or destruction it’s really been focused on the dregs or racist folks of the town, the poor scientist in Santa Fe (I think it was Santa Fe) & the lady at the university last week. No one of any real consequence to our heroes. Now I have no idea if Maria’s vision arc has concluded because it hasn’t been mentioned in forever, but I’m assuming that there will be a major death by season end. Noah killed Rosa and the 2 other girls, abused Isobel for 10 years and destroyed the lives of all the mains. For Jones to be a real big bad there’s got to be some long-lasting consequences to one or more of our mains. Though I’m going into the final 2 episodes with excitement there is some concern. I don’t think any of the mains will perish but I do worry about Sanders and even Heath. (I’m really worried about Sanders y’all especially after that promo!!!)

Jones negotiation with Liz was bizarre. Why negotiate at all? Wouldn’t he just threaten to kill or maim people…what the heck is Liz’s bargaining chip against an all-powerful, evil dictator? If she doesn’t do what he wants he can just start killing folks she loves. It really is that easy. I get the whole creativity inspiration thing but fear for those you love is a great motivator. I was so amused that after hours of discussion Liz pulls out the big guns… free the sheriff. Was that her wild card? Really Liz? She may be a kick-ass scientist with a boatload of courage and sass, but I wouldn’t have her negotiating any of my needs anytime soon.

Isobel and Rosa scenes continue to delight. I think it’s clear Rosa won’t be in Season 4 much. As much as I will miss her, I’m glad that she will find some peace and joy at art school, she deserves it. Unlike Wyatt who does not deserve any tranquility because his redemption (if you can call it that) was not earned. Instead, his memories were wiped along with it any true feelings of guilt and remorse. How can we believe he has truly changed? What happens if his memories return? So silly and completely wasteful screen time (no offense to the actor who is quite good and likable).

The Dallas and Max scenes were wonderful. Don’t get me wrong I prefer the show not tell method. And Dallas conveniently having the entire Oasis history in a memory from his father then regurgitating those memories to Max (and the audience) was not the best way to convey the story. However, the actor who plays Dallas is ridiculously charismatic and I could listen to him recite the phone book (do those still exist?) and be entertained. Plus, for one moment I truly believe that Dallas had gotten through to the constantly self-sacrificing, martyr that is Max Evans. But as the promo for finale proves with Max asking Michael (why Michael?) to kill him, the words didn’t stick. Oh Max…

Speaking of, I truly feel so bad for Max. He’s had it rough. In a span of couple weeks, he’s been told he is a clone of an evil dictator, he isn’t the Savior but in fact a weapon to bring down the real Savior who also isn’t really a savior but a genocidal maniac (Michael’s words not mine) who slaughtered half his planet. Not to mention the “there has to be 3” doesn’t include him, as he isn’t part of the triad. And that because he is a clone, he doesn’t actually have biological parents or siblings or anything, well Michael, by DNA sort of, maybe? Oh, and he is the only thing tethering the evil, psycho dictator to life. I mean…

My hope for Season 4 is that Max gets to process everything he has learned about his existence. He hasn’t expressed how he feels the entire season and he deserves to. I hope the writers don’t have him get over it by season’s end with one scene or worse just sweep it under the rug. Like being a clone of an evil psycho, to be used as a weapon, without any real connection to Isobel and Michael? That’s got to have some lasting effects…please writers let me see it on my screen.

Speaking of show not telling, Michael’s new powers. I not a fan of Michael telling us a story of how he used his mind control powers accidently when he was 18. Can we please see these scenes so we can feel the true emotional impact?

As for these powers, strap in, this is a doozy (and might be controversial). I, like Michael, feel that taking someone’s free will, no matter who they are is not a good power to have; it’s not fun, it’s not cool. Michael is right that’s some dark shit and a power that needs to be used very sparingly and with a ton of responsibility.

I loved the scene between Sanders and Michael, but I have a couple issues with some of the dialogue. Sanders is the only living person (other than Jones) that knew and loved Nora. Thus, he can speak about her with authority. He is also the only person who is any kind of real parent figure in Michael’s. Thus, him saying Michael has no darkness can be believed. He knows Michael and he knows Nora. However, Sanders doesn’t know what its like to have powers, especially an immense power such as mind control. Though I appreciate Sanders’ perspective (and agree with him about the purity of Michael’s soul) I wasn’t a big fan of him brushing away Michael’s fears about having mind control powers and not wanting to use them. Yes, it’s important for Michael to recognize just because he has Jones’ power doesn’t mean he is or will ever become Jones. It’s not the powers that make a person. But the line about Nora not fearing her powers was not helpful. Nora’s powers were telekinesis, engineering (if genius is a power) and possibly miraculous crop growth. None of these powers take away a person’s ability to control their actions (well telekinesis to a certain point but in nowhere near actual mind control). So of course, Nora didn’t fear her powers.

I wish someone had validated Michael’s fears instead of brushing them away with a few words of you have no darkness or in Isobel’s case you aren’t like Jones/Noah. A person does not have to be evil or bad to misuse a power like mind control & for that misuse to have dire consequences. Can you imagine being able to make people do what you want them to do at any time? Even if your intent is to do good, it doesn’t mean it’s something that should be done or won’t have major consequences. Sort of like the ends justify means conversation between Jones and Liz. What is the line, do you recognize it and what’s to stop a person from inches towards the line and what happens if you cross it?

So, my wish for next season is for Michael like Max is given time to process what he has learned about himself and his powers. My wish is for Michael is to continue to struggle with when, how and if he should use the mind control power. That way even when faced with a racist sheriff that is holding a gun to his friends, he is careful, asks for consent and never takes advantage of this tremendous power. In addition, I do think it would be very interesting to continue to explore these powers and how they maybe could change a person? Take Max’s power to give and take away life force. He killed Noah and used that life force (and his own) to bring Rosa to back to life. Seems like a good exchange but ethically and morally having a person decide who lives or dies? And how would this all fit into religion with Dallas being a priest? These could make for some great conversations and strong character development. Fingers crossed we see some of it and not just get told in passing.

The music in the episode was amazing. The beginning with Nothing Else Matters and Jones is a tux… I mean… Also, the ending with the fight sequence, building the suspense, only for the reveal to be that Jones had wanted them all to come so he could trap Liz, Dallas, and Max along with Isobel and Michael (for extra leverage) in his mind. I’m confused about why everyone was sitting but Michael was standing? Is he able to move or is he able to resist his father’s mind control? I’m really looking forward to next week and for Team Human to come to the rescue (maybe).

Favorite lines of the episode:

Sanders to Michael: “You are just a pair of sad puppy dog eyes and a cowboy hat”

Jones to Team Alien & Liz: “Well, everyone seems a little tense” (LOL I love Jones!)

Dallas (or Isobel) writing on the wall to Jones: “KNOCK, KNOCK”

[orangeoctopi7]

It’s Fine (It’s not fine)

@forduary week 1 is Hurt/Comfort. The one’s definitely more on the hurt side of things, but I promise there’s some comfort at the end!

Stanford Pines is six years old. He’s in his bedroom, reading quietly. He’s just getting to the climax of the adventure story he’s reading when his brother Stanley crashes into the room. It wouldn't normally be a problem, Ford is really good at tuning out the world around him while he reads, but Stan is complaining loudly.

“I’m booooooard!” The boy moans, grabbing onto the post of their bunk-bed and dangling off it dramatically. 

“Whaddaya want me to do about it?” Ford asks in irritation, not looking up from his book.

“Let’s go play on the beach! Or go to the comic store! Or… or something!” Stan suggests. “Anything but just sit around here doin’ nothin’!”

It was a hot summer afternoon. Ford didn’t want to go down to the beach or the comic store when he knew for certain anywhere they went today was bound to be crowded with people. He just wanted to sit and read in his room and enjoy some time to himself. 

“Can’t you go by yourself?”

“Are you kiddin’? Ma would throw a fit!”

Ford heaves a long-suffering sigh, places a bookmark to hold his place, and snaps his book shut before thumping it down on his bed.

“Well we don’t hafta go if ya don’t wanna.” Stan says lamely.

“It’s fine.” Ford assures him.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s fine.”

* * *

Stanford Pines is ten years old. He’s at recess, trying to lie low. Stan got held back for the whole half-hour because he’d been caught trying to sneak the class pet, a newt, into his backpack. This of course leaves Ford at the mercy of Crampelter and his thugs, who have little to no mercy on any given day. 

“C’mon freak, fight back!” The towheaded bully taunts him, holding Ford back by the forehead as he tries to struggle past the blocking arm for his backpack, held just out of reach. “I know I seen you taking boxing lessons back at Mel’s Gym!”

“It’s ‘I saw’ or ‘I have seen’, and just b‘cuz I’m taking lessons doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to pick a fight I know I can’t win!” Ford protests. 

“Pfft, you’re no fun.” Crampelter scoffs, before grabbing onto one of Ford’s hands while he continues to reach vainly for his backpack. “But y’know what does sound fun?”

“Let go of me!” 

“Seeing how flexible your extra fingers are!” Crampelter starts to push Ford’s pinky finger back with his thumb, stretching it to its limit.

“Stop it! That hurts!”

But Crampelter just keeps pushing and pushing until Ford is sure some tendons are going to pop, when a shrill whistle echoes across the playground.

“Hey! Crampelter! Drop the freak!” The teacher on recess watch commands.

The bully finally lets go, and Ford stumbles to the ground, holding his injured hand close to his body.

“Here, lemme look at that.” the teacher pulls Ford’s hand away to check it. “Eh, ‘snot bleeding or broken, you’re fine.”

As they walk back from school that afternoon, Stan rants over and over that Crampelter Will Not Get Away With This, plotting various methods of revenge, most of them too fanciful to ever come to fruition.

Ford is silent the whole time, his gaze turned towards his shoes.

“Hey.” Stan suddenly stops his ranting and places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

“It’s fine.” Ford mumbles.

“I promise I’ll try not to get held in for recess again.”

“I said it’s fine.” Ford assures him, knowing that hoping Stan won’t get held back from recess again is like hoping it won’t snow in January. Technically possible, but highly unlikely. 

* * *

Stanford Pines is fourteen years old. He’s a freshman in highschool, and he and his brother are in detention after he was caught letting Stan look off his algebra test.

It’s not that Ford has anything against sharing his answers with his brother. It’s not like he has any sort of moral high-ground here. It’s just that Stan is always so carelessly obvious about it!

“I said I was sorry, alright!” Stan hisses at him, trying not to draw the teacher’s attention.

“We’re not in middle school anymore, these things actually go on our record now!” Ford hisses back. “You have to be more careful!”

“Well maybe if you would actually slip me your paper instead of making me crane my neck over your desk! Nobody’s gonna notice if you hand your test in two minutes before everyone else instead of five!”

“That’d be even more obvious! Maybe if you wore your glasses for once!”

“Maybe I would, if you could hold your own in a fight!”

“What does that even have to do with anything!?”

“You don’t wear glasses in a fight, genius! That’s just asking for them to get broken! And I know I’m always having to step in and save your skin, so why would I even bother wearing them in the first place?”

“Hey!” The teacher overseeing detention snaps at them. “No talking!”

The boys shut their yapps and go back to studying, or at least pretending to study.

“I’m sorry.” Stan murmurs, once he’s sure the teacher is no longer paying attention to them.

“It’s fine.” Ford grunts back.

* * *

Stanford Pines is 17 years old. He is begrudgingly walking down to the beach with his brother.

“C’mon Ford, it’s October, there’s only a few more days of weather nice enough to work on her left! And the dumb science fair isn’t until April!”

“I still have so much research to do before I can even start!” Ford complains. “Not to mention procuring parts, testing different models--”

“That all sounds like stuff you can do once it gets cold.”

“I should be in the building phase by then!” 

“Alright, look,” Stan jabs a finger in his brother’s direction. “If you wanna spend the last few warm days of the year cooped up in the library, that’s your problem. But I’m gonna enjoy the sunshine and the beach, and finish fixin’ up the Stan’o’war. We’re so close, I can practically taste the treasure and babes!”

“...Fine.” Ford grumbles.

“No, no. You go do your nerd thing. I’ll put the finishing touches on this thing we’ve been working on together since we were pipsqueaks.”

“I said it’s fine.”

* * *

Stanford Pines is 17 years old. He’s just come back from the most humiliating moment of his life (thus far). He confronts his brother, the offending evidence crinkling in his clenched fist. Stan tries to play it off like it’s not a big deal. Like he expects his brother to say It’s Fine.

It is most definitely not fine.

* * *

Stanford Pines is 20 years old. He’s showing his new roommate around their humble apartment.

“I really ‘preciate this, Stanford.” Fiddleford McGucket tells him for the sixth time that day. “Most folks wouldn’t offer to put their TA up in their apartment, ‘specially not when you’re lucky ‘nough to get yer own place!”

“Well, I’ll be starting the Doctorate program myself, next year! That makes us equals, in my mind.” Ford says proudly. “And I’m happy for the company! The only reason I have the apartment to myself is because my last roommate and I parted over… differences.”

“Heh, you too, eh?” McGucket chuckles. “Least you weren’t kicked out, like I was!”

“Why were you kicked out?”

“Oh, several reasons. I think the robot in the kitchen was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Ford laughs. “Well, I for one would love to have a robot that does our dishes and cleans the counters.”

McGucket grins and leans against the table.. “See, I knew we’d make great roommates!”

Unfortunately, McGucket’s leaning is more than the wobbly table can take, and it tips over on its side, scattering textbooks and papers everywhere. The two friends begin cleaning up the mess, McGucket apologizing profusely. 

They’ve almost finished putting everything back onto the table when Fiddleford picks up an old photo of two little boys standing before a derelict little boat.

“Well bless my soul! Is this you, Ford?”

Ford’s heart skips a beat. He hadn’t realized he left that photo lying on the table!

“Ah, yes, that’s me. That was the day I decided I wanted to be a researcher--”

“And lookit this little fellah next to ya!” Fiddleford interrupts Ford’s soliloquy. “He looks just like you! I can’t believe I’ve known you for three years, and you never told me you had a twin!”

“Er… it just-- it never came up.”

“How in tarnation does yer own twin brother never come up?” Fiddleford asks incredulously. “So, what’s his name?”

“Stanley and I are not on speaking terms.” Ford says stiffly. “I haven’t spoken to him since I was a teenager.”

A multitude of expressions dance across Fiddleford’s face before Ford can hope to interpret any of them. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He finally says.

“It’s fine.” Ford says tersely, snatching the photo back.

* * *

Stanford Pines is 21 years old. He’s trying to get a good night sleep before his first dissertation tomorrow. 

Trying being the operative word.

The past year rooming with Fiddleford McGucket has been great, for the most part. Ford loves spending time with an intellectual equal. McGucket accepts all of Ford’s idiosyncrasies, and Ford accepts all those of his friend.

Well, almost all of them.

It didn’t take long after they started rooming together for Ford to realize one of the several reasons McGucket had been evicted from his last apartment had nothing to do with his penchant for robotics, and everything to do with his penchant for late-night banjo playing. As much as it cut into Ford’s sleep schedule, he didn’t have the heart to complain to his roommate about it. He knew he had plenty of his own bad habits that were difficult to deal with, like his coffee addiction, his antisocial behavior, his tendency to start a project and just leave it laying wherever he was around the apartment, and his few dozen subscriptions to cryptozoological newsletters.

The digital clock on Ford’s bedside table reads 2:20 AM when the music finally, thankfully stops. He sighs and turns over in his bed, hoping to finally fall asleep.

When he wakes in the morning, groggy as a hung-over sailor, Fiddleford at least has the decency to look apologetic.

“Sorry, did I keep ya up last night? I kinda got lost in the music an’ lost track of time.”

“It’s fine.” Ford mutters as he pours himself a large mug of the strongest coffee he can brew. This is the first roommate he’s gotten along with since… since he started college. He can put up with this.

“Well, if’n ya need me to, I can start headin’ up to the practice rooms in the assembly hall fer my jam sessions--”

“It’s fine.”

* * *

Stanford Pines is 31 years old. He’s spreading thick globs of slimy aloe vera on his hands. He’s been letting his muse take control of his body while he sleeps for about a week now. Bill says he’s not used to the limits of a physical human body. He’s injured Ford’s body just about every night so far, but last night, when he picked up the hot coffee pot by the pot instead of by the handle, was the worst by far. 

“This keeps on happening, Bill. You need to be more careful.” He gently chides his muse.

“WELL HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT’D HAPPEN? WHY DIDN’T THE IDIOT WHO DESIGNED THAT THING INSULATE THE WHOLE CONTAINER INSTEAD OF JUST THE HANDLE? YOU COULD DESIGN A COFFEE POT WAY MORE EFFICIENT THAN THAT!”

Ford smiles, blushing. “Perhaps I’ll get around to modifying it someday. But for now, as I was saying, could you please be more careful with my body at night?”

“HEY, YOU’RE ACTUALLY LUCKY THIS HAPPENED. IF I HADN’T DROPPED THAT POT, I WOULD’VE TRIED DRINKING IT THE SAME WAY I DO IN MY NORMAL FORM, AND THEN YOU’D PROBABLY BE BLIND. SO WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT IT, YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME!”

Ford pales. “Er, perhaps I should help you practice using my body first, just to decrease the risk of that sort of thing.”

“OH, I’M SORRY! DO YOU NOT WANT MY HELP? DO YOU NOT WANT TO ACHIEVE GREATNESS AS SOON AS POSSIBLE?”

“No! No of course not! That’s not what I meant!”

“DON’T FORGET, I’M DOING THIS FOR YOU, SIXER! I’M AN AGELESS BEING OF PURE ENERGY! THE ONLY REASON I’M HELPING YOU SPEED UP THE PROCESS ON BUILDING THE PORTAL IS BECAUSE I KNOW HOW PATHETICALLY SHORT YOUR MORTAL LIFE IS. YOU’RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO TRUST ME. OR ARE A FEW BUMPS AND BRUISES TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO HANDLE?”

“Of course not! It’s fine! I’m fine!” Ford insists, finishing bandaging his burns.

* * *

Stanford Pines is… probably 45? He’s not quite sure. He’s lost track of time after traveling the multiverse for so long, especially after the Do-Over Dimension.

He’s making his way through a crowded alien market, hoping to find something he’ll be able to use in his Quantum Destabilizer, and also hoping not to be recognized by any bounty hunters. It’s annoying, having to wear a hood and goggles and mask everywhere he goes, but that’s just the way it has to be now.

It’s fine.

It’s only until he can complete the Quantum Destabilizer. After that… it didn’t matter what happened after that.

It’s fine.

* * *

Stanford Pines is 62 years old. He’s sitting in a hospital bed. Despite what that may suggest, his life has finally taken a turn for the better. Bill is gone, Weirdmaggeddon is over, and, miraculously, no one died. Stanley was going to be ok. The kids didn’t hate him. He’s achieved his goal of destroying Bill Cipher, and survived! He’s fine. They’re all incredibly, wonderfully, fine.

The doctor is giving his vitals one last check before officially discharging him from the hospital. It’s obvious that under normal circumstances, Ford would not be leaving the hospital any time soon, but thanks to the incredibly persistent insistence of his family, and the fact that the hospital is already absolutely filled to the brim with people who were injured during Weirdmageddon, and the fact that Stanford was instrumental in stopping Bill, they’re making an exception. 

“Alright, you’re free to go!” The doctor finally says, handing his clipboard over to Ford to sign. 

“Hooray!” Mabel cheers as her uncle signs his exit papers. “Now you’ll be able to help us set up for our birthday party!” She slings an arm around his neck to hug him, completely forgetting about the thin layer of bandages around his neck. Ford can’t suppress a yelp of pain.

Mabel reels back, hands flying to her mouth. “Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine.” Ford forces a smile.

“I wasn’t thinking!”

“Mabel, really, it’s fine.”

“Ford.” Stan says firmly. Ford recognizes the expression on his face from the last few days. It’s the look he gets on his face when he’s remembering something painful. “You gotta stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He asks, confused.

“Saying ‘It’s fine’ when it’s not.”

Ford raises an eyebrow. “Stanley, it was just an accident. It really is fine.”

“Oh, yeah, of course this was…” Stan stammers, apparently coming back to the moment. “Mabel’s not-- this was just an honest mistake. But you say… uh, or at least, you used to say that a lot. Even when I could tell it wasn’t really fine. You gotta stop that.”

Ford shifted in his bed uncomfortably. “I’m just being polite.”

“There are ways to say things aren’t fine while still being polite.” Dipper points out.

Ford can feel himself flush. “I’m not good at that. I always come off as rude… or angry.” Saying it’s fine is just easier. He can just move on and forget about it. Control his emotions. Remove them from the equation for the time being, process them later when he’s alone, so nobody gets hurt.

Stan takes a deep breath before he speaks again. “You just gotta trust us, that we’re not gonna leave you just ‘cuz you get angry sometimes.”

Is that really what he’s been afraid of this whole time? That certainly seems to be a part of it, but not the whole. All the same, he does at least feel that he can trust his family. And he can try to be more honest with them when something is bothering him.

“I think I can do that.” he says as he gets up from the hospital bed, ready to go home.

[ravs6709]

Our Very Own Story- Queerplatonic Fedex

Alternate title: I project so much onto Fitz that he's probably ooc

Woo, I'm finally done! I've had this idea for so many months, but I never had the chance to actually finish it, but finally, it's here (in all its 7.3k words glory)

This story takes place in the same au as Our Very Own Melody, which is the (romantic) Kam side. OVOM isn't necessary to read to read this one, but it's still my fave work, so read it anyways

But here's a refresher. Soulmates au in high school. Soulmate bond is having a strong bond similar to telepathy and empathy combined, and can only be revealed once the soulmates are close with each other.

Ve/vem Dex and she/ae Biana because yes.

And also, Fitz, Keefe, Tam and Linh are in the same grade, and are all one year older than Sophie, Biana and Dex.

Warnings: censored swearing, and mentions of (a character from a play's) death

Hope you enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

Fitz remembered the days that he played the piano. He still played it in the present, but not to the extent that he had in the past. He used to constantly play it, something that he was partially forced to do.

It wasn't like he didn't enjoy it, because he did. He'd started at a young age, and as he grew older, he found himself creating parts to songs. Just a few notes, maybe long enough for a verse, he didn't have the same passion to create music like Keefe would using his violin.

If anything, he preferred to write lyrics. He liked being able to tell stories with words. It was at the end of elementary school where he'd realized that it wasn't writing music that interested, but writing in general. He had so many ideas flowing inside of him, and a powerful imagination.

When middle school came, he started to explore some of the possibilities. He tried poetry, but while it was fun, it wasn't his thing. He particularly enjoyed writing short stories for English class. He didn't spend that much time focusing on writing though, he spent most of his free time hanging out with Keefe, Biana, Sophie, and rarely, Dex.

It was in eighth grade when Biana practically forced him to watch the school play with her and Sophie. (Keefe, for some reason, had been allowed to decline the invitation. That alone made Biana's intentions suspicious).

From start to finish, he was amazed by what he saw. The play was one that he'd heard of, but didn't know the plot to. Each movement of the actor was a sentence in his head, he could see the words written down on paper, ready to be acted out. He knew that script writing wasn't as simple as that, the formatting was different, but still he was curious.

After the play was over, the three of them started walking to take Sophie home. "So, did you like it?" Biana asked.

"It was good," Fitz replied. "The lighting was really great."

That was another thing that made script writing different compared to writing a short story. When writing something to be acted out, you had to be able to imagine the scene, know what kind of lighting would be needed and what special effects were needed in order to emphasize something, or in order to make something happen.

"It was great!" Sophie agreed. "Dex did a really good job behind the scenes!"

"Wait, Dex was involved with the play?" Fitz asked.

He'd met Dex back in elementary school, but they never actually spoke to each other until a few months ago, when Sophie befriended them. But even now, even though they'd hang out at his house, he hadn't really interacted with Dex that often. (It did explain why Dex wasn't with them either).

"You didn't know?" Biana asked. "I mean, ve hasn't talked about it much, but surely you should've known. Vis knowledge of technology is really good."

Fitz hadn't actually witnessed it for himself, but had heard about it. But the stories couldn't do it justice.

•~•~•~•~•~•

After Sophie had gone home, the two siblings started to walk to their home.

"So, what about playwriting?" Biana asked.

"I know you brought me to see it for a reason," he told her.

She crossed her arms. "Do I have to have a reason?"

"Knowing you, yeah."

Ae huffed. "Rude. What would I even have to gain from introducing you to a form of writing that you might enjoy?"

"Oh, I don't know, like asking for a favour such as doing half of a project?" He was still a little bit bitter for having to do that.

"That was one time!"

"One time too many!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

Fitz was glad that his high school had a talented drama club. Every year, his school participated in the city-wide festival. The thought alone was exciting, and he knew that unlike in middle school, it was the students who wrote the plays. He wanted to be part of it.

It also sounded a little stressful, because it was no longer just a school play, but a piece of art meant to represent the school. Actual professionals would be there to judge the play. And this was going to be his first time doing this. He knew though, that it was going to be fine. He wasn't alone, there was going to be a whole playwriting team to create the play.

Unfortunately, luck decided not to favour him. While there were multiple teachers in the drama department, it was the head who would deal with everything. Except the head of the drama department had gone on maternity leave, meaning that the school wasn't going to participate in the festival for that year. While it would be rude to be annoyed at the teacher, he was still a little upset, because he'd been looking forward to it.

The year itself wasn't bad, he enjoyed it a lot. He'd managed to get most of his classes with Keefe, the only differing one being their art course, where Keefe went with music, and he chose drama. His classes were entertaining. Sophie and Biana had started dating, and the hangouts at his house only grew more frequent.

There were also the Song twins. He wasn't necessarily friends with Linh, but they shared a few classes, and she was fun to be around. Sometimes they ate lunches together when Keefe wasn't around. Tam, on the other hand, he knew nearly nothing about, other than the fact that he usually kept to himself. Or at least, until Keefe had managed to start a rivalry with him, and then they started serenading each other with their violins. Their rivalry was a big source of entertainment, and he and Linh would often discuss the fact that they clearly liked each other.

All of those things definitely made his first year of high school a good one.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Even without the fact that the head of the drama teacher had returned from maternity leave, his second year of high school was eventful. Biana, Sophie and Dex had joined them, meaning that he got to see them more often.

He walked into the drama club room to get his form to join the drama club. He was surprised to see that Dex was also in the room.

"Hey Dex," he greeted. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I normally do backstage stuff, did you forget, Wonderboy?" ve asked.

"Oh yeah, that's right."

He was reminded of when Sophie had told him that Dex was part of the backstage crew during middle school. He made a mental reminder to not forget, because while he hadn't intentionally been rude, he had been rude to vem in the past. He wanted to be a better friend than that.

"But actually," ve continued. "I wasn't actually going to be a part of backstage this year, I was thinking of being an actor."

"You like acting?"

Fitz was pretty sure that Dex had never mentioned being an actual actor before, but if he had to be honest, he wouldn't have been surprised if ve had. He'd already forgotten about vis involvement with the drama club.

But to his surprise, Dex flushed red, one of vis hands moving to scratch the back of vis neck. "It's not something I've brought up. I kinda have stage fright, so I'm trying to face that fear and do something that I want. Even if I get a minor role, I'll be happy."

"You should go for it!" Fitz told vem. "I'm sure you'll do good on the stage!"

Ve smiled sheepishly. "Thank you."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Along with him, there were four other people who signed up to be a playwright. He'd only recognized one of them, since they'd been in the same class the previous year, but he wasn't friends with any of them. They were nice people though, they were quite calm, compared to his friends. (Keefe, Biana and Sophie made a dangerous combination).

Playwriting was interesting, because it was different compared to what he was used to. He was aware that it wouldn't be the same, but he wasn't expecting how different they would feel. There was little focus on description, and there was no flowery prose at all. The descriptions that were there were short and simple, just enough for the actor and backstage crew to know what was going on.

It was a little hard getting used to the formatting, because he had to remember to capitalize the names, and there were a lot of small details that he needed to remember. But it was okay, because he had the other writers with him.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So," Dex said. "How's the play going?"

"We're mostly done with the script, but we've been told the script is too short, so we're just adding on to it." This was one of the few times that ve had been the one to approach him, and he had a feeling that he'd be interacting with vem more often. "We've decided on a subversion of the classic high school story, you know what I'm talking about, right?"

Ve scrunched vis nose. "New girl goes to high school, befriends two popular guys- but sometimes one of them is a childhood friend- and gets into a love triangle with said guys? Plus, there's probably a mean girl? How could I not know? What changes have you made?"

"The mean one isn't actually that mean, and fae gets together with the main character."

"Ooh, do the two popular guys get together?" ve asked.

"One of them is enby, but yeah. The writers have been having so much fun making everything queer."

"Holy sh*t, that does sound like fun! Last year me would have killed to see something like that, when I was questioning myself."

Fitz had been starting to come to terms with the fact that he was aromantic, but he could definitely see where ve was coming from. Even if there weren't any confirmed characters on the aspec spectrum, he was always happy to have characters who were queer.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Crapcrapcrap," Dex muttered under vis breath, pacing back and forth as ve waited for Fitz to get his lunch out of his locker.

Fitz took out his lunch, then closed the locker. He turned towards vem. "Try to breathe," he suggested. "If you get too panicked now, that's when the mistakes are going to happen. Do you want to take a minute to sit down and breathe?"

Ve glanced back and forth between him and the staircase they'd need to climb to head to the club room. Reluctantly, they sat down.

"It's not like they won't start without you there, right?" Ve asked.

"It's not like you'll be late. What do you normally do to calm yourself? Do you want me to hold your hand? I know Keefe likes that."

For a moment, he wondered if he was overstepping some kind of boundary- because they still weren't that close- but ve smiled sheepishly, and looked down at the floor. "Maybe… that would be nice. We can try that."

Ve gently held his hand, and Fitz noticed that his hand was warm, compared to his own cold one. They sat like that for a few moments, until vis shaky hand became more stable.

"Okay," ve said, but it came out as a breathy whisper. "I think we should get going."

Ve let go of his hand, the warmth slowly fading away. He liked the feeling of holding vis hand.

They went to the club room, where the auditions were being held. Dozens of students were trying out for the various roles, and he felt a little proud, knowing that people wanted to act for a play that he helped to write.

He watched the students try out, and they were all so impressive. He was glad that he wasn't actually part of the group that decided who was casted and who wasn't. He may have been a writer, but the writers weren't in charge of the auditions.

Soon it was Dex's turn- ve was auditioning for one of the teachers in the story. The teacher that ve was auditioning for was someone lenient, a good friend to the other students. The teacher would often jokingly tease the students in the class.

Seeing Dex on the stage, it was almost as ve had become a new person. He knew that obviously, being able to act in a variety of roles was what an actor was supposed to do, but it was like seeing a side to vem that he'd never seen before.

Everything, from the tone of vis voice, to the grin on vis face, to the very slight change in posture was better than he could have ever imagined.

Fitz was sure that if ve had gone for a lead role, ve would be able to steal the show.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Dex, that was amazing!" He told vem, after ve had finished the audition.

"You… you think so?" Ve murmured, looking a little flustered. (Wait, flustered?)

"Yeah! You were great up there!" He replied, choosing to ignore what vem being flustered could mean.

"It- it was only the audition."

"You'll be getting more practice, it's like…" he paused, trying to find the words. "A preview. If the preview is good, the full thing will also be great."

"If you say so."

"I know you'll do great."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex had managed to be casted in the role, and both Fitz and Dex were happy. Dex had to practice vis lines, so Fitz offered to be there to listen. At first, ve seemed hesitant, out of the fear of looking bad, but eventually they accepted the offer.

At first, it was a little awkward. Dex seemed to have difficulties making eye contact with him, and when ve did, ve would seem to lose concentration on what ve was saying. It wasn't just a lesser version of stage fright, because it started to extend to their normal conversations too.

(He was starting to have suspicions, but he hoped it wasn't the case. He didn't want to have to think about that.)

But slowly, ve became more comfortable talking to him. The confidence that had been evident during the audition started to return. Once again, Fitz was in awe.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"These plays are so good," Dex murmured.

Fitz nodded in agreement. At the festival, various schools presented their plays. Each of them were different- one was fantasy, with kingdoms and people trying to survive, another depicted a local issue, and another about what it means to be a family. They were all about different topics, but each of them were spectacular.

"What if ours isn't as good?" Ve whispered.

"We've worked hard on it," he answered. "We'll make sure it's good."

He offered his hand to vem, something that he started doing often after the first time. Ve took it, and they sat on the seats holding hands until it was time for their school to set up everything.

"I have faith in you, okay?" Fitz whispered as ve stood up.

"Thank you." Ve smiled, then left with the other actors.

Fitz looked back towards the stage so he could enjoy the show. Since he wasn't an actor, he didn't have to get up. The play began, and even though he'd seen it multiple times, it still looked impressive. The jokes didn't fail to make him smile.

After it was all over, ve sat back down next to him.

"You did great up there," he told vem.

Ve smiled at him, vis face shining with joy. (Part of him wanted to just smile back, the other part wanted to back away, because of all of these feelings. Instead, he shoved the conflicting feelings away, he could think about them another day.)

•~•~•~•~•~•

It turned out that he didn't get the chance to think about his feelings another day. The two of them lived nearby, so after they were brought back to the school, they decided to walk together.

"Hey Fitz, can I tell you something?" Ve asked.

"Sure, go ahead."

Ve stopped walking, then turned to face him. "I have a crush on you. I've had one since last year."

Despite the fact that he suspected this, he was still shocked. "What?"

"I don't expect you to return my feelings, but I thought… after the play, I finally have the confidence to tell you."

"Since…" he murmured. "Since how long?"

"Since last year," ve replied. "In the beginning, I honestly hated you. I thought you were a spoiled jerk, but I learned that you aren't that, and then my crush happened."

"Oh," he breathed, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I'm sorry, I don't feel the same way."

"It's okay, I just wanted to get it out," ve said, but he could see vis disappointment. "Oh, my house is that way, bye. Good night."

Fitz watched as ve walked down a different path, and he knew that they didn't have to part ways until another few minutes. He felt something like dread build up within him, and he couldn't help but think that he messed up.

•~•~•~•~•~•

After the confession, Dex started to keep vis distance, and Fitz hated it. He liked hanging out with vem, it was nice and comforting. It was like how they were in the beginning of the year, before they finally interacted with each other.

Whenever they had their group hangouts, Sophie, Keefe, Biana and Linh would sit in between them. The distance between them wasn't that huge, but he felt like it was just going to grow more.

It also didn't help that he didn't know how he was feeling. He thought that he had it figured out, he didn't have any romantic feelings towards vem. But every once in a while, he caught himself staring. Dex had seen him do it more than one time, and ve would be the first to look away, looking a little upset.

It would hurt, wouldn't it. I rejected you, and now I'm staring at you. I wish I had an answer for you.

However, he didn't, so he kept quiet and continued to stare longingly.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Okay, what's going on?" Biana asked, slamming his bedroom door open before slamming it shut again.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, hoping that ae wasn't referring to what he thought ae was about to say. "And careful with the door," he added, hoping to get aer off topic.

"Hah, nice try with that, but I'm referring to you and Dex," She replied.

He flinched. Damn it, she's too perceptive. And now she'll definitely know! Well, guess I've got no choice but to tell her.

"We haven't been dating," he explained. "I'm just… ve confessed to me and I'm so confused. I thought… I thought I was aromantic, but all of a sudden I just can't help but look at vem." He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. "Ve's avoiding me because I rejected vem, except I don't know what my feelings for vem are anymore."

Ae sat down on the bed next to him. "Okay, first off, if you're aromantic, that's great. If you're not, then that's fine too. I can't tell you what you feel, but I can sympathize. Do you remember at the end of elementary and during the beginning of middle school, I kept clinging onto Keefe?"

He nodded.

"Well, I thought I had a crush on him."

"Wait, really?" That was something he didn't know.

"I know better now, I was just admiring someone who I thought was cool and was also pretty. That sounds like a crush to you, doesn't it?"

He nodded slowly.

"Well, it wasn't," she stated. "There's more to a crush than just thinking someone is pretty, otherwise, I'd be crushing on half the school. There's this… feeling inside of you, you feel warm and fuzzy. You find yourself wanting to be with them often, you want to go outside and explore the world with them. You might want to be closer with them than anyone else. That's how I've felt."

He considered that, then tried to compare it to what he'd been feeling.

"It's… similar, I think," he explained. "I like being with vem, and I regret choosing to ignore vem at first. I wish that we could've grown closer before." He closed his eyes, and pictured vem, sitting next to him, their hands linked.

He felt warmth, before it faded into confusion. Biana's explanation seemed right, but he felt like there was something that he was missing.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Since it was summer vacation, it meant that Fitz didn't have to go to school every day and see Dex. While they had hangouts often, Dex often had to babysit vis younger siblings, so he didn't see vem too often.

It was probably a good thing, it meant that he could try and figure out his feelings, without the source of said feelings being around to make everything complicated. (Though, it wasn't really working). At least though, he could figure out how to make things less awkward, because the others were starting to notice something was going on, and he didn't want to be the reason that the atmosphere wasn't pleasant.

He spent a lot of his free time playing the piano. He'd been doing less of it lately, but once he'd started playing not as an obligation, but because he wanted to, he found that playing it was a good stress reliever. He could immerse himself in the light sounds of the piano, distract himself from all the confusion he felt.

Sometimes though, when he played the piano, he thought of the songs that he often heard- whether from school or just Biana- and murmured the lyrics. He tried playing the songs that he knew were about romance, because maybe he could figure out how he felt about the experiences that other people had.

He was still conflicted though. Some songs it seemed like the person was oddly possessive over the one that they loved, the feeling of love so strong and intense and suffocating. Whatever he felt towards Dex was strong, but not like that. Other songs were a lot more casual, talking about how the warmth that came from being with the one you loved.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He really hoped he could find an answer, and soon.

•~•~•~•~•~•

While he had no answer, interactions with Dex did become easier. He wasn't sure if it was because he was getting used to what he was feeling, was coming closer to figuring it out, or he was just getting better at suppressing his feelings.

The next year of school had started, and it meant a new play for the drama club. Both him and Dex joined the club, just like the previous year.

Most of the other playwrights were people he was familiar with from the previous year, but there was a new face. This year, they agreed on something less realistic- superheroes. It was interesting to see how the story evolved, from a joke about the main character "Grey" being morally grey, to adding two antagonists with strong superpowers, which then ended up focusing less on the main character, but more between the relationship between two siblings. It was absolutely incredible to see what they were able to come up with.

Coming up with a plot was only the beginning though, but this time, he had more experience writing, so he was able to contribute even more to the story.

Writing the dialogue could be difficult sometimes, as some of the lines felt too dramatic, or not emotional enough. He tried saying them out loud, but he wasn't that good at voice acting, so he sounded too robotic for his liking.

"It sounds like you're writing something for the play," Dex said during one lunch. "Do you want me to say it out loud for you?"

Fitz was surprised by the offer. Whole they were talking more, it was usually in a group. So for Dex to be coming to him, it meant that their friendship could be better.

"That would be nice, thank you. I'm trying to write a monologue about the mayor, addressing the people about how his sister betrayed him and has been working for the rebels. But right before that, it's his reaction to the betrayal."

"Is he angry, or more sad?"

"Bit of both, and then when he makes his speech to the audience he reveals an invention that'd be used to stop the rebels, so while he's calm, he should also sound vaguely menacing."

"Is the mayor the villain?"

"It's complicated. The mayor's sibling has superpowers, while he doesn't. He fears that the powers are going to cause him to lose his status, so he creates laws that impact people with powers. Those people then rebel so they can have proper rights, sometimes violently, which to the mayor, proves that people with powers are a threat. The mayor also has been looking into an invention that can get rid of powers, because he wants to "cure" his sibling."

"He does awful things for the sake of love," Dex guessed.

"Exactly. Oh, here"--he turned his phone screen so ve could see the screen--"the script is here for you to read."

Ve started off murmuring, trying to get a feel for the scene. As ve re-read the scene over and over again, ve spoke louder, emotion seeping into vis tone.

"Thank you Dex," he said, after it was over. "That helped a lot.

"No problem. It was fun."

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period.

"I've got to head to class now, see you later!" Without thinking, Fitz leaned towards vem, before he realized what he was doing.

Was I about to kiss vem on the cheek?

He couldn't tell if it was just instinct- he always kissed his mom on the cheek if either of them had to go somewhere- or if he genuinely wanted to show affection like that.

He abruptly turned away and quickly left, not daring to look back and see if ve had noticed or not.

•~•~•~•~•~•

It turned out that Dex hadn't noticed the almost-cheek-kiss, and Fitz was relieved. But it did get him thinking. If he and Dex were to date, would he be comfortable with kissing vem on the lips? He knew that for the most part, kissing was common in romantic relationships. After a few moments of thinking, he decided that he didn't want that.

It wasn't like a switch had been flipped (he knew that kissing wasn't required in romantic relationships), he did finally begin to have his answer.

His hangouts with Dex slowly began to go back to normal, as they fell back into the dynamic from before the confession. Except this time, there was less blushing and being embarrassed, because this time, there wasn't a crush to hide.

Sometimes Dex acted out the scenes he helped write. They didn't do that too often though, since Dex was going to audition, and ve didn't want to have any sort of advantage.

It felt nice to be with Dex, it was comforting and fun. When he tried imagining Dex dating someone, he found that he didn't mind that too much, as long as they'd be able to hang out together (he was annoyed by the fact that he hadn't tried to imagine that earlier).

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Hey, Dex," Fitz called out. "About the confession…" Despite having his answer, he was a little nervous, because neither of them had actually ever discussed the confession or the aftermath.

Dex blinked, then pursed vis lips. "What about it?"

"I know I did already reject you, but well, you know about the stuff after… I was confused. Because I like being with you, and I'll admit, you look beautiful, but I'd been unable to actually figure out if it was romantic attraction or not. It wasn't, so here's my official rejection. Hope it doesn't change anything between us again."

There was a pause, then ve snorted. "You do know that you already rejected me, right? I mean, I get what you're saying, but I've been working to get over you. Hasn't quite worked yet, but I'm not devastated or anything."

"That's good, I feel better about this."

"Your explanation also makes sense, I mean, it took me forever to realize that I don't like girls. Attraction is confusing."

Fitz laughed. "You can say that again. I'm aromantic, but I think part of the confusion is that I like the idea of romance."

"So when you have someone confess to you," ve continued. "You're wondering if you should have accepted the confession."

He nodded. "Exactly."

"And we'll continue to stay as friends, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan."

He could always figure out more of the details later.

•~•~•~•~•~•

With everything settled, Fitz and Dex grew closer. Auditions for the play drew near, and the actors were instructed to think about who they were going to be playing.

"I kinda want to play the mayor?" Dex said. "I mean, I've seen very small bits of the dialogue from other characters, but I did have fun doing that monologue the first time."

"You should do it then," Fitz told vem.

"Yeah but… it's a more major role, and I'm scared of messing it up. I haven't really had much experience in the main cast, let alone as an antagonist."

"I'm sure you could do it," Fitz said, putting his hands on vis shoulders. "Your acting helped me, and I'm proud of how far you've come. Worst case scenario, you don't get the role, but you know how nice our teacher is."

"She is nice," ve agreed.

"So you know she won't be harsh."

"I guess, yeah."

•~•~•~•~•~•

The scene that had been used for the audition wasn't one that Dex had read, which made Fitz feel a little bit better, because the last thing that he wanted was for vem to make it because of an unfair advantage. He knew that ve'd feel guilty about it.

The scene was when the mayor's sister left to secretly join one of the rebel meetings, and then he talked to himself about how much he hated the rebels and how he was going to make sure that his citizens would be protected from those who had superpowers.

The edge in Dex's tone was similar to how Fitz had imagined the mayor to sound like- sweet, but it was clear that the mayor was menacing. The reasoning was somewhat noble, to protect the citizens, but what wasn't considered was that people with superpowers were human too. The mayor was the one who ended up causing damage, while trying to stop the damage from happening.

He thought about the ending, and wondered how it would look like for Dex (or another actor) to perform during the end, when everything that the mayor had done led to the deaths of his sister and his friend (well technically, the friend actually lived, but at the time, he didn't know that). The mayor would go through a revelation that everything he was doing was wrong, and he needed to fix everything.

The actors who were auditioning all seemed capable of performing the role well, and Fitz wondered who would make it.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex managed to get the role of the mayor, and just like the previous year, Dex often practiced in front of him. Without the fear of crushes, it meant that ve was significantly more comfortable, and ve was able to do a better job.

There were points when ve got nervous, but Fitz was there to help encourage them. And despite the fact that he'd done this before, he watched vem practice in awe, because he still couldn't believe that he was able to watch this, watch someone put so much passion into acting out something he helped to write.

It felt like all of these emotions were contagious, because sometimes, it almost felt like he could feel Dex's own emotions. When ve did the monologue about being betrayed, he could feel that heartbreak and anger.

Or if Fitz was in a good mood, it spread to Dex, vis voice would sound just a little bit lighter, and during their group hangouts, ve'd talk a little bit more than usual.

The opposite applied too- sometimes Dex came to school, angry at vis siblings. While Fitz wouldn't feel irritated, necessarily, but he did find himself needing a little more quiet.

Fitz wondered if that was just them being in tune with each other, or if it was the work of something more. (In his first year, he'd joined the strings ensemble to play the piano part, and had witnessed Keefe and Tam's rivalry, but nobody could deny that when it was time to be serious, they played really well. While neither of them had found their soulmate, he wouldn't be surprised if they were.)

No matter what it was though, he knew that he was glad that he made the decision to befriend Dex.

•~•~•~•~•~•

During some of their free time, Fitz and Dex would hang out in his room and watch tv. Ever since all of this, he found himself focusing more on the writing when it came to the shows.

Sometimes what they watched was simple, others weren't. Some were cartoons, and some were play adaptations to some of the shows he'd watched before.

"Do you ever think about what you'll be doing in the future?" Fitz asked.

Dex nodded. "Yeah. It's hard to imagine it, though. Is there anything you want to do in the future?"

Fitz laid down against the bed they were sitting on. "I don't know, really. I mean, I think writing would be fun. If I got to write a play adaptation to a TV show I liked, I'd be really happy with that."

Ve hummed, laying down next to him. "You can try going for it. I think you'd do well. I know you didn't write the entirety of the plays, but they were fun to act out."

"Maybe. I guess we'll see. What about you?"

"I think voice acting would be fun. I could do stuff for animation, it seems less stressful than doing something live action. Then again, I don't really know yet."

"I think you'd do a good job," he said, before he linked their fingers together.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I feel so weird," Dex said.

"Can you describe it?"

"I feel anxious, we're presenting the play in just a few hours, but part of me doesn't feel that scared, and that just makes me more worried."

"The dress rehearsal and the one we presented at school were great," he assured. "Don't you remember the applause?"

"That's different. I know we've done this before, but like, we only won one award last year when there were a crap ton of them. I don't want to be the reason why we don't advance in the competition this year either."

"We'll do our best, okay? You can do that much, right?" He asked, gently grabbing one of vis hands.

Ve nodded, determination flashing in vis eyes. "Okay, we'll do our best."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Their play began, and it was going incredibly well- it felt like everyone was performing even better than usual. While he really liked the comedic play from the previous year, the lighting, special effects, and the emotional speeches made the play feel better in terms of quality.

It neared the end- when the mayor was about to learn that his friend was alive. But as Dex spoke, Fitz noticed that something was off. Ve performed fine, but one of vis lines was slightly wrong. Ve must have noticed, because as ve crouched down, ve froze, vis eyes darting side to side. Ve picked up the hand of the "dead body", vis breaths visible.

From far away, it could have been interpreted as disbelief, that maybe the character was noticing something. But Fitz knew that wasn't the case, and even he began to feel nervous.

Ve had started to panic a lot less with all the practice, but that didn't mean that vis stage fright didn't disappear.

Dex, I know you can do it. I believe in you. Just get through this ending, and it'll be over. You can do it.

That nervous feeling that he'd felt disappeared in an instant. For a few moments, he felt nothing. Then there was shock, so overwhelming that for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

Dex spoke, vis lines delivered without any stutter, and there was so much happiness in vis tone, more than Fitz had heard in a while. There was that breathless sort of relief, which mainly came from receiving good news after a long time. There was no way that it could be faked so easily. Especially not when ve had been panicking just moments ago.

Fitz smiled at vem, those same emotions that Dex was feeling could be felt by him too. He had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, Fitz was glad that it had happened.

When ve walked off stage after the last few scenes were over, he heard a voice in his mind.

Wonderboy, did you know that we're soulmates?

It was Dex's voice, but ve was nowhere near hi-

He caught on to that last word. Soulmates. Soulmates. That word repeated in his brain.

Yeah, soulmates. It shocked me, but not so much the soulmates part but more the "your voice is in my brain" part. How do you feel about all of this?

Despite being a writer, he had no words to explain how he felt. He was elated, happy, but none of those words felt like it did justice.

Okay, I think I can tell. Just know that I'm happy you're my soulmate too. Also, you might wanna get up on stage to bow, we can talk later.

Fitz stood up quickly, not realizing that the others were getting up. Yeah, we'll do that.

The festival itself wasn't that long, and their school was one of the later schools to present, but still, it felt like such a long time away. He had to actively concentrate on the other plays, otherwise he was going to get lost in thought, or end up spending the entire time mentally communicating with Dex.

Finally though, it ended, and once they were dropped back at school, they started their walk home together.

"Are you shocked that we're soulmates?" Dex asked.

"Not really. You and I have gotten really close over these two years, I don't think I can imagine my soulmate being anyone else," he replied. "Though I do still think that part of me is processing."

Ve snorted. "That reveal literally snapped me out of my spiraling. If you think you had no time to process it, imagine being on stage and there's just a voice. I'm lucky I didn't jump in shock, and managed to get through the rest of that."

"Oh, yeah, that would be something that would scare me. But I think we should talk about what comes next."

"We already decided that we aren't gonna date," Dex told him.

He nodded. "And I've thought about this for a while, but I do want to stay close with you. With the knowledge that you're my soulmate, that makes me want it more. I don't know what exactly either of our stories will be like in the future, but I want you to be one of the main characters in my story."

Dex looked down, vis face flushing red. "You- you're such a dork, you know that? How do you say something so cheesy? But… I can agree too."

Fitz felt his own face heating up a little bit, and was glad that his skin was dark enough for it to not show. It did sound a little cheesy.

"At least we have that much settled. Our stories are still in progress, so we can always wait before adding more plot points."

Ve laughed. "You make it sound so dramatic."

"I'm a writer!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So you look happy," Biana remarked as he entered the living room that same night. "I think you somehow look happier than you did last year."

He could still feel the smile on his face. "Dex is my soulmate."

"Wait, really? That's so cool! What happened?"

Fitz recounted the events, then began to describe how it felt. He was sort of able to feel those emotions before he realized, but once the bond was truly established, he was conscious of Dex's emotions, and the other way around. Every once in a while, he could hear Dex's voice in his mind.

"That's amazing!" Ae squealed. "Do you think that either Sophie or Linh could end up as my soulmate? That would be so cool! Even if neither of them aren't, I could see if my soulmate would join the polycule. Even if they don't, I'd be fine with that."

"Both of them could be your soulmates," he said.

"They could," she agreed. "But you know that multiple soulmates are super rare. I'd be so happy if they were both my soulmates though."

"I guess you'd just have to wait and see," he said. "Just like I did."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I hope our school advances this time!" Dex whispered to him, as they sat down to watch the award ceremony for the plays.

It turned out that the play didn't manage to make it past the district showcase, but it wasn't too saddening. They could definitely understand why some of the other schools had managed to make it.

But just because they didn't make it past the round didn't mean that there weren't awards to be given. The director of their play won an award- and Fitz agreed with that decision. They had done a really good job with everything, including the choreographing of the superpowers.

The other award that their school received was one that Fitz was not surprised about. The award was for an actor and their talents, and he was proud as Dex walked onto the stage to receive the certificate.

I can't believe this is happening! Dex said.

I can, he replied. You did such a good job.

For the rest of that evening, neither of them stopped smiling.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Hey Dex, can you come act out this part?" Fitz called out.

When there was no reply, he called out for vem mentally. Dex, can you act out a part I'm writing please?

The door to the other bedroom opened, and ve walked into his room. "Sorry, was listening to music."

"That's fine."

"Which part do you want me to act out?"

He turned the laptop screen around so ve could read.

"Broken Harmony, right?" Ve asked.

He nodded. Then he watched as vis posture changed, vis face wearing a cocky grin that resembled Keefe's. When he'd first seen the look, he'd thought that it looked odd on vem, but over the years, he learned more and more about vem. Plus, ve had become a voice actor, and had taken on various roles.

Ve recited the dialogue, and from there, Fitz was able to continue the conversation.

"Thank you," he said out of habit, even though at this point, it was something ve would do everything ve was asked.

Ve smiled. "I'll be back in my room if you need me, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. Love you."

"Love you too."

•~•~•~•~•~•

I don't leave many notes in the end but that scene where Fitz almost kisses vem on the cheek instinctively is actually something that's happened to me when I was questioning whether I was crushing on my friend or not (it was so embarrassing when I realized. I was in front of multiple people too, so I'm relieved that nobody noticed). Idk why I've decided to share this now, but as I said, I projected a lot onto Fitz this time

Kotlc taglist: @keefeinnit @impostertamsong @my-swan-song @subrosasteath

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[catnaples]

TOXIC CRUSH, PART 2

 This is not my best story. I’ve been working hard on it, but after a certain point I just get bored and frustrated, It’s why I don’t normally do 2 part stories. I hope you like though! Give me some feedback so I can improve!

TW: Spitting, slapping, attempted non-con, mentions of bullying, implied murder, implied kidnapping

PT 1

 Moving to Seijoh for the first week was hard. Half of the students took it upon themselves to giggle at you for your thick thighs or your soft belly, while the other half was welcoming but kept their distance. You had come from Karasuno after all, and everyone knew how much the volleyball team hated the crows. 

 You stayed away from the gym all week, fighting your urge to ask to be their manager. Instead, you chose to work on forming friendships with your classmates and good impressions with your teachers.

 You remembered Seijoh’s team very clearly from the last time you had seen them, which was after Karasuno’s loss to them. You had felt them watching you the entire time as you moved from teammate to teammate, giving out comforting hugs and cold bottles of water. Their eyes bore into you everywhere you went in the gym, and it made you incredibly self-conscious. 

Oikawa seemed like the kind of guy to bully someone for appearance only, and the last thing you wanted was to get on his bad side...well, anymore than you probably already were since you came from Karasuno. You could take a lot of things, but bullying you for your body type always hits home the hardest.

 By the time summer came around, Seijoh had become more welcoming to you. You had a new group of friends, and you hadn’t really encountered the volleyball team. A Few words of encouragement from your best friend and a can of caffeine boosted your courage, and the day before vacation you finally faced your fears and entered Seijoh’s gym.

 At first, no one seemed to notice you. You crept your way to the coach, and gave him a quick bow. After a brief introduction, you quietly asked about possibly managing for the team. Of course he didn’t pay attention to you. He barely recognized you from their rival school. He responded with a flick of the wrist. “Oikawa is the captain, you can ask him.” 

 As your courage drained from your body, he called Oikawa over, catching the attention of the third years who all stared at your shaking form. “This young lady wants to speak to you.” He said plainly before turning his attention back to the team. 

 Oikawa came sauntering over, the flirtatious grin on his lips melting off as he began to recognize who you were. “Well well, if it isn’t Karasuno’s prized manager...what are you doing here in my school’s uniform?” He sneered, irritation flashing in his eyes.

 It took you a moment to find your voice as you fidgeted with the hem of your untucked shirt. “W-well...I’m no longer a part of Karasuno’s volleyball team. I left a little bit ago. I...I was just wondering if...maybe you needed a manager?” You asked, staring at him with hopeful eyes. “I’ve got the experience.” You tried to joke.

 He stared at you with his burning brown eyes, and you looked away, the stare too intense. “And why did you leave?” He asked, hooking his finger under your chin so you would look at him again. 

 You could still feel the other third years eyes on you as they continued to practice, and your face burned with shame. He was going to say no, no matter what you said to convince him. You were sure of it. You simply came here to embarrass yourself. 

 You concentrated on the wall behind him as you spoke, willing yourself not to cry. “One of the team members asked me out, and I said no to maintain our friendship. I guess it hurt him a lot, because by the next week the entire school turned on me.” You said, your voice quiet. 

 Oikawa released your chin and stared down at you, a different look now placed on his face. “They...bullied you out? Because you turned someone down?” He asked, his voice low. You nodded, staring down at his shoes. 

 There was a long pause, and then he chuckled. “Fine then, you can manage our team. I’d like to see the looks on Karasuno’s faces when they see their cute little manager running around tending to us instead.” He smirked, before bending over to look you in the eyes. 

 “We practice during the summer too. Come to the gym tomorrow morning at eight. We’ll provide a manager's uniform for you.” He said, before cuffing you lightly on the shoulder. You stared, almost numb with shock, as he ran back to his waiting teammates.

 Iwaizumi was looking from you to Oikawa and back, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. You stiffly walked from the gym, unsure whether or not you even wanted to manage anymore.

 You didn’t bother texting your friend about it, instead choosing to block the thought of the entire situation out with music and other mundane activities. The next morning, you trudged back to the gym, making sure to arrive five minutes early to try and maintain a good impression. 

 You were in the gym for maybe two seconds before Matsukawa and Hanamaki were towering over you, lazy grins plastered on their faces. “Well, Oikawa was telling the truth. He caught a little mouse from Karasuno.” Hanamaki said, examining your face. 

 You felt your cheeks heat up at the intense stare, and looked away. “Uh, yes...my name is Y/N, I’ll be managing the team now.” You said quietly. “Aw, she’s shy too. Cute.” Matsukawa laughed lazily. 

 “Alright, leave her alone. It’s time to warm up.” You heard a gruff voice say. Hanamaki and Matsukawa parted to reveal Iwaizumi standing behind them, his arms crossed. The tall boys in front of you shrugged and moved away, beginning a conversation on something you couldn’t quite make out. 

 Iwaizumi handed you a square package. “This is your uniform. Go into the girls locker room and change, then meet us back here. Oikawa is going to go through everything he expects you to do for the team.” He said, before turning and beginning to move away. 

 You breathed a sigh of relief at the absence of his intense stare, before he turned again. “Oh, and by the way. We won’t treat you the way Karasuno did. With us...you’ll be fine.” He mumbled. Before you could respond, he was striding away, yelling commands out at the rest of the team. 

 Stunned, you slowly made your way back to the locker rooms to change. Although the entire situation was turning you into a nervous wreck, and you still weren’t sure if you trusted the team, that simple comment made you feel a little warm inside. 

 Karasuno’s treatment of you was cruel, especially from the volleyball team. They constantly painted Seijoh out as the villains, as if they were the main protagonists. Yet here you were, joining their volleyball team with their ace himself telling you not to feel scared.

 You hurried to change into the white and blue tracksuit, internally admiring how well it fit you. Part of being a bigger girl was that not everything fit you just right. However, in this you felt semi-confident. 

 After changing you made your way back to the gym, praying for an easy day. You entered just in time to watch Oikawa set a ball to Iwaizumi, who spiked it, narrowly missing a first year's face. You couldn��t remember the name, but he looked very familiar. 

 You stood in the corner for a solid ten minutes, watching the sheer talent of the team in amazement. Their teamwork, along with the drive to win no matter what, was very apparent in the way they played. No wonder they beat Karasuno.

 As they all took a quick breather, Oikawa’s brown eyes landed on you. You subconsciously shrank back as he began to make his way towards you. Then Iwaizumi’s words flashed in your head, filling you with a little bit of comfort. 

 Oikawa’s attitude had seemed to change completely as he approached you, the flirtatious smile back on his face. “Well, you really did decide to show up.” He said, grabbing his water bottle from the bench next to you. “Now, what exactly did you take care of while you were at Karasuno.” He asked. 

 He was closer than he needed to be, his tall frame towering over you. You fought the blush that rose to your cheeks as you tried to focus. You began to list everything that you had taken care of, from washing uniforms to cleaning the gym and locking up when the others were too lazy to do so. 

 Oikawa’s stare never left your face as you spoke. When you finished with your explanation, he nodded thoughtfully. “Right, so to start with, you won't have to wash our sweaty jerseys. Unlike Karasuno, we actually do know how to do our own laundry. We still expect you to help us clean up, but you’ll never be left alone in the gym to do it all by yourself. We still want you taking notes and what not.” He explained. 

 The more he spoke, the more comfortable you felt around him. You could tell in his mannerisms, excluding how unnecessarily close he was to you, that he was trying to help you feel more comfortable.

 Throughout the rest of the summer you continued to get close to your new team. The protective attitude you developed for Karasuno’s first years transferred to Seijoh. Instead of Karasuno’s third years keeping an eye on you, you found Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa and Hanamaki all around you at almost all points of the day.

 You began to form a friendship with Yahaba, and a mutual understanding of boundaries with Kyotani. There were more touches to the small of your back, fingers lingering for a second longer than usual. There was more texting and possessive words being used. 

 Whenever someone from another sport came to practice at the school, they were pulling you away from whatever conversation you were having with them. All of these signs, you ignored. You were just grateful to the team for not bullying you for everything. 

 Besides, what was wrong with four attractive third years being so protective over you? You, who had always felt insecure in her body, who felt inferior to people like them? You were relishing in every drop of attention they were giving you, just as much as they loved doting on you.

 By the time the spring preliminaries rolled around, you felt completely confident beside your new team. Walking into the gym standing in between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, you felt powerful. The way people parted for your new school when they wouldn’t do the same for Karasuno made you feel like a celebrity. And for once, you got to sit on the benches right in front of the court instead of up in the stands, like you used to have to do with Yachi. You were full of excitement...until Karasuno arrived. 

 All confidence drained from you when you saw the familiar black uniforms appear through the door. Matsukawa noticed the sudden rigidness of your body at the sight of your former team, and he came to stand beside you, his arm wrapped around your shoulder lazily. “They aren’t gonna say shit. We’re gonna kick their asses today.” He said, smiling lightly. 

 You allowed yourself a few seconds of comfort before pulling away and nodding. “Right. You got this!” You smiled back, throwing fists lightly up. “Beat them so that you can defeat Shiratorizawa next.”

 Matsukawa’s grin grew, and he cuffed you lightly on the shoulder. Then he turned to Hanamaki, who gave you a thumbs up. “Alright, warm up guys.” Oikawa called, gesturing for the others to start moving. He shot you a quick wink and a smile before turning and staring Kageyama down. 

 You had caught Kageyama’s attention, and the look of rage on his face as he realized exactly where you had run off to finally sunk in. One by one, the other members saw you, their reactions varying. 

 Hinata’s was the most terrifying. Even from a distance you could see how deranged his eyes looked. His body was squared and shaking, and for the first time ever you actually felt fearful of him. You found yourself inching towards Iwaizumi for comfort. 

 He caught on fast and moved his body slightly in front of you, before Hanamaki called out, “You guys should probably start doing your warm-ups instead of looking at our cute manager.” 

 Hinata looked like he wanted to charge, but Daichi stood in front with his hand blocking him. You had never seen so much contempt in his eyes before. The way he was looking at you made you want to crawl into a hole and hide until he was long gone. You were thankful that you had Seijoh backing you up. 

 Karasuno gathered around Hinata, for what you assumed was a pep talk about ignoring the big evil Y/N, while Oikawa came up on the other side of Iwaizumi and looked down at you. “So, you never told us who it was that got you bullied out of Karasuno. By the looks of it, I’m assuming it was that little tangerine?” He asked, his eyes burning. 

 You felt yourself shrink back. “Y-yeah.” You stuttered out. “That’s good, you had us thinking he was big and mighty. He’ll be easy.” He grinned, before rubbing your arm. The gentleness of his hands greatly contrasted with the fierceness of his face. “Go to the bench with the coach. We’re about to start.”

 You immediately nodded and briskly walked over to the sidelines, sitting down nervously as the referee took his place. Both teams shook hands and returned to their positions, the room falling deathly silent. Then, the game began. Watching them play against a different team instead of amongst themselves was intense, and you found yourself unable to look away for even a second. 

 Karasuno performed their quick attack a few times, managing to get a couple of points from Seijoh, but Seijoh returned with a couple of nasty jump serves and intense spikes. You were in awe at how both teams managed to play so well. But you knew Karasuno was in the dark about one thing; all of the moves and plans Hinata had told you about, you told Seijoh. 

 Karasuno had a few unknown tricks up their sleeves, but the main moves that Hinata and Kageyama tried to pull off were thwarted by Oikawa and the others. In the end, Karasuno lost by one set, and one point.

 Karasuno was dramatic as ever by throwing themselves down on the ground, or by holding each other with tears in their eyes. Meanwhile, your team was jumping around the gym, whooping and hugging each other. Then, they were coming for you. They were picking you up and spinning you around, planting giant kisses on your plump cheeks as you laughed and congratulated them. 

 As they continued to celebrate, you excused yourself to grab fresh water for their bottles. You slipped from the gym, a giant smile stuck to your lips. The look of pure joy on their faces filled you with an insane amount of happiness. You knew how hard they worked, and you knew they deserved a reward. It was a good thing you were just recently paid, you wanted to buy them dinner tonight before going home. 

 Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the orange haired boy creeping up behind you until it was too late. Even though Hinata was small, he was strong. Terror coursed through your veins as he shoved you to the ground and pinned your wrists about your head. Up close you could truly see just how deranged he looked. 

 His pupils were dilated, eyes wide, there was a sickening smile on his face that just screamed “ill-intent”. “H-Hinata, what-” You tried to ask. He cut you off by spitting on you. “Stupid. You’re so stupid! I tried to give you my love and what do you do?” He growled, his face an inch or so away from yours. “You run to the one team that we’re rivals with, and you let them win.” He spat. 

 He raised his hand and slapped you across the face, bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. Panicked, you couldn’t find your voice to scream. “Let me guess, you told them everything that I had told you in secrecy.” He asked, gathering both of your wrists into one hand. 

 Frozen with shock, you didn’t bother struggling. Hinata had never been this aggressive before. He had never laid his hands on you in an aggressive manner. You could barely bring yourself to breathe properly with his face so close to yours. 

 Then, his free hand unzipped your jacket. “H-hinata, stop it!” You gasped. You wanted to scream, but a part of you still didn’t want Hinata to be hurt. You still cared for him, even though he was scaring you. Even though he hurt you. 

 “Shut up!” He spat, before roughly shoving his hand up your shirt. Finally your instincts kicked in, and you began to violently struggle. In the next second, he was ripped off of you and you were being pulled up. Oikawa was holding you, his thumb wiping away Hinata’s spit. He examined the red spot on your cheek from where you were struck, while Iwaizumi held Hinata against the wall by the jacket collar. 

 You tried to tune him out while he threatened Hinata with something worse than death, instead choosing to focus on Oikawa’s soothing voice. You let him push your head against his chest as he hummed to you. “It’s alright Y/n. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you when you’re with us.” He cooed. 

 You almost completely relaxed, but then he said something that truly alarmed you. “Hinata won't be here much longer, so you can focus on us from now on. He’ll never hurt you again.” 

 You ripped your head away and looked to where Iwaizumi and Hinata were a few seconds ago, but they were gone. Panic surged through your veins again, but Oikawa pushed you against the wall. He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes dark. 

 “We’d do just about anything for you, Y/N. Keep that in mind.” He whispered, before planting a soft kiss on your lips. “Now be a good girl, and keep this entire thing a secret for us, alright? We know you like your freedom but...we’ll store you away safely if we have to. Try not to worry about anything, it’ll make everything easier, yeah?” He smiled. 

 As you stared into his eyes, you could hear a faint scream from what seemed like outside. You shut your eyes, tears dripping down your cheeks as you realized what you had just gotten yourself into. 

 You thought back to all of the power they now had over you, and how they managed to obtain it by gaining your trust. They had your address, a strong relationship with your parents, access to your phone...you realized that you could never even really leave your house without them being there, waiting. You felt horrified. You would just have to find another way out...before you were locked away. Or worse.