#maybe if it was a free two for one or in the fountain machine

[miss-floral-thief]

Oreo coke even at zero sugar that seems a bit much lol

[twiceasfrustrating]

A Key of One's Own

Rating: General Audience Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Relationships: Lucifer & MC Characters: Lucifer, gn!mc Additional Tags: fluff, mild swearing Summary: No one was home to let you into the House of Lamentation after a long day, so you decided to hang somewhere else. Lucifer is very upset by that. A/N: Can you tell I'm experimenting with what I can fit in a fic? Word Count: 865

Mammon was such a jerk! He was supposed to wait for you to go home, but it felt like the ass went out of his way to leave you behind and run off to do who knows what scheme this time. All you knew was that he was supposed to bring you home today and now he couldn't. That meant Mammon was unavailable, Levi had left his isolation cave to go wait in a line for some merchandise release, Satan was at the library, Asmo was stuck dealing with his fanclub (although, stuck implied he didn't love the attention), Beel was at practice, and Belphie could be passed out just about anywhere at the moment. As for Lucifer… he was probably with Diavolo, going over student council business of some sort. That meant no one was free to let you into the House of Lamentation.

You could sit outside the front door and wait for someone to get home, but you didn't know when that would be. There was also the option to message someone, but you didn't want to interrupt what they were doing. That meant your best option was probably to kill your time doing something else; like going somewhere to study or get other work done.

The nearest place was a manga cafe where you could rent out a private room for a few hours and work on your assignments (maybe read a few comics while you were there to relax afterward), so you decided to head there. The room you managed to get was pretty nice for 500 grimm an hour; a small private space with a tiny desk so you could read and work in peace. There was a nice water fountain and a vending machine in the hall too. You could easily spend a few hours here until you were sure someone got home.

And a few hours you did spend. Way more than you intended, burying your nose in assignments and taking a break to read a few manga that you just knew you were going to yell and Levi about later. You hardly noticed how much time had passed until you heard your DDD go off and finally checked it.

That was when you noticed how late it had gotten without you even realizing. No wonder Lucifer was messaging you. You should have been home hours ago.

You gave him your location, knowing you wouldn’t hear the end of it if you walked home by yourself when he was already upset.

Instead, you sat in your private room and waited for him to come to you, noticing immediately how deep the scowl on his face was when he finally saw you, safe but clearly disobeying his house rules.

“We’re going home,” he said curtly before turning on his heels and silently dragging you behind him without laying a hand on you.

You held your belongings close as you walked behind him, the silence absolutely deafening between you two.

At least, that was until he finally spoke up. “You should have been home by now. Why is it that I came back to find you were out?”

You stared at his back as he walked, trying not to lower your head even though you felt so small when he spoke to you like that. “I was killing time until someone got home to let me in. I just… lost track of time. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Mammon was supposed to bring you home so you could get in before it got dark.” It was said like an obvious fact; like there was no argument you could make against him.

“Well, he didn’t and I can’t get in by myself,” you said, then retreated back into silence. A silence Lucifer didn’t bother to break.

You weren’t surprised the following morning when you woke up to Mammon hanging from the ceiling. He was in charge of making sure you got home on time last night and he failed to do that. You almost thought about helping him down, but decided against it in favor of getting breakfast before Beel finished it all off. Perhaps you were a little peeved by him choosing some harebrained scheme over you yesterday.

So you left him there, dangling in punishment for abandoning you while you went to go eat breakfast with everyone else. Lucifer would let him down before class.

Before that though, Lucifer would walk you to the door to remind you that you were free to do whatever you wanted with your time as long as you were back before dark. 

“I know. It won’t happen again,” you reassured him, remembering his quiet anger when he picked you up last night.

“See that it doesn’t.” He grabbed your hand in his own, keeping a tight grip that was just loose enough not to hurt. “You have no excuses this time.” Then he slipped something into your palm before turning away from you to deal with Mammon on the upper floor.

You watched him disappear up the stairs before daring to look at what he’d given you. As you uncurled your fingers, you saw a shiny, silver, metal key resting in your hand.

[jonesy-and-max]

part 4: Lunch

One o’clock finally made its appearance, which meant it was time for Jonesy & Max’s lunch break. Jonesy went to the back room and grabbed her backpack while Max ushered some straggling customers out the door. Jonesy flicked the switch on the OPEN sign off, and hung the “OUT TO LUNCH (back at 2p)” sign in the window. Directly across from Popcorn Video in the strip mall was the Super Grasso Brothers Pizzeria, Jonesy and Max’s favorite pizza place since they were kids. Not only was the pizza delicious, but there were free refills on soda, and the best part was the ancient Donkey Kong arcade that had been there since 1981. Max held the second highest score on it, behind whoever had entered the initials “STN.” The two of them had spent hours and hours eating pizza, gorging themselves on garlic knots, and taking turns racking up levels on Donkey Kong. 

Jonesy said hi to Fabrizio Grasso behind the counter, his brother Massimo must have had the day off, she figured, and asked for the usual.

“One large pie, half extra cheese, half extra pepperoni, garlic knots, and two large sodas. You know the drill, Ms. Jones.” He handed her two large cups and gestured towards the fountain. His thick italian accent had diminished a bit since she was little, but his boisterous, husky baritone never had. 

She filled one cup with Cherry Coke for Max and mixed the Orange and the Sprite together for herself. She had a seat in one of the booths next to the Donkey Kong machine and watched Max go a few rounds before the pie was ready.

Max opened the back of his van and Jonesy slid the pizza box in first, the two of them followed behind it. She had dug out her weed purse and took a nice big hit as Max grabbed slices of pizza, one pepperoni, one cheese and smooshed them on top of each other.

“Pizza-wich!” He presented it as though a work of art to Jonesy who laughed and coughed at this miraculous new invention.

“You truly are an inspired artist, Signore Swartzwelder!” She chef kissed her fingers.

For the next hour they shared pizza, and knots, and the rest of the bud Jonesy had brought, taking turns noodling on the guitar Max always had in his van.

“Hey Jonesy.” Max strummed the guitar with each syllable.

“Yeah, Max?”

“Ok, so, like,” He looked up at his thoughts, “If you could pick how you’d die. Like number one death. How would you wanna go?”

“Demon possession.”

“Fuck! …That’s good!”

“Yeah, and I’m talking hideous deadite-style. You’d have to chop me up or blow my head off with a shotgun! But before that I’m all like munchin’ on your leg or clawin’ your eyes out, or like, comin’ at you with a rusty knife! Haha!”

“That’d be so fucking metal!”

“Either that or an evil doppelganger. Like, it wants my life, but there’s just something wrong with it, you know? Like, there’s something twisted inside it. Then we’re all like, strangling each other and maybe it bashes my brains in with a rock or something. Hahaha, that’d be rad as fuck.” 

“Holy shit, that’d rule.”

“What about you?”

“Asteroid.”

“Like the dinosaurs?”

“Nah, dude. Like, ok. So like, I want there to be an asteroid heading for earth, but it burns up in the atmosphere so much that it’s just, like, the size of a bullet, then BLAMMO: killshot right to the brain. Fucking sniped from a billion years ago. The big bang itself hittin’ me with the headshot from the beginning of time!”

“Dude, that’s fucking cosmic.”

“Like, that asteroid was on a collision course with my skull since the universe was born. Destiny. I wouldn’t even be pissed, I’d be like, hell yeah.”

“Yeah man, that’s like, beautiful.”

“Either that or choked out between Kelly Bundy’s thighs.” Max plucked a wailer of a high note on his guitar and clapped the string silent.

“Oh! Nice!”

The two fist bumped twice in quick succession in perverted synchronicity.

“Excuse me!” A voice came, seemingly, out of thin air.

“Huh?” Jonesy and Max asked the disembodied voice. 

“I said, excuse me!” Jonesy and Max turned their heads in the direction of the noise. To their surprise there was a man standing right in front of them. He was a stocky, middle-aged man, bearded, bespeckled, with a fluffy brown pony tail bringing together what was left of his hair. A green trench coat ended at his ankles, and due to his choice of denim shorts, if he had closed the coat it may have given the illusion that he wasn’t wearing any pants. 

“What’s up, doc?” Asked Jonesy, holding in a massive grin.

Max buried his face in his elbow to stop from laughing.

The pony tail man wasn’t amused in the slightest. “I’m sorry, but is that pot I’m smelling?? Are you two high??”

Max looked at Jonesy from inside his elbow, her rose colored eyes matching his.

“Uh. Nope.” Jonesy desperately tried to hold in her laughter as Max nearly died.

“Sure. Whatever. I want to rent a movie and the door is locked. Judging by your uniforms, I’m going to assume you’re the clerks?” Ponytail attempted to move past the snickering and cloud of weed that hung around the two chuckleheads.

Max, trying to keep his composure, looked down at his double entendre nametag, “My name’s Haywood Jablome,” He pulled it out towards Ponytail. “...Junior.”

“Can one of you burnouts please get your shit together for five minutes and open the store. I have places to be.” Ponytail sneered.

“How come?” Jonesy asked.

“How come’ what?”

“Why are you in such a rush?”

“That’s none of your concern.” Ponytail avoided their eyes.

Max tapped Jonesy with his elbow, “He’s getting porn.”

“I am not!” Ponytail sputtered.

“Sure.”

“I have a date, if you must know.” Ponytail composed himself.

“No you don’t.” Jonesy chuckled.

“Yes I do!”

“With who?”

“Is it your mom?” asked Max.

“Are you getting porn for your mom?” Jonesy laughed, scrunching up her nose, “Ew, sick!”

“Is she too old to get it herself? What does she like?” Max leaned forward, intrigued.

“They didn’t have porn on tapes a hundred years ago, so she’s probably just like, sampling it all, right?” Jonesy offered.

“You are both disgusting!” Ponytail was red in the face now.

“We’re only messin’ with ya, dude.” Max decided to let the fish off the hook and finally help Ponytail out.

He shuffled his butt to the edge of the van and hopped out, grabbing his soda to take along for the trip. All of a sudden, Ponytail’s hand was moving. It was moving quite fast in Max’s direction. Jonesy saw what was happening, but her brain and her thoughts couldn’t drag themselves together fast enough to understand the gravity of it all. Jonesy’s mouth fell open, intending to warn Max, but all she succeeded in doing was letting out a long “Uuuuuuuuuuuuuh…” By the time her brain had worked itself up enough to make the M sound in “Max” it was already too late. Ponytail had slapped Max’s soda right out of his grip. The cup crashed to the ground, its contents splashing against Max’s jeans and all over his right shoe. He looked down, then back up, meeting Ponytail’s gaze. He was smirking, but as soon as Ponytail’s eyes locked with Max’s the smirk vanished. Max snarled.

“What the fuck!” Max barked. Jonesy could see her pal shift into feral mode. He hunched, balled his fists and planted his feet. “I was gonna open the store for you, asshole!”

“Fuck you! I’ll be speaking to your supervisor about this!” Ponytail backed away and started to run.

Max was about to give chase when he noticed he wasn’t moving, Jonesy was holding him back. “Don’t! Don’t dude, he’s not worth it.”

Max looked at Jonesy and back at Ponytail scrambling into his car. He spit on the ground and flipped the man off. “You’re fucking banned, shitbag! Good luck finding another place to rent your mom’s porn!”

“Fuck you!” Ponytail wailed.

“Eat shit!” Jonesy fired back, chucking her soda at him. The cup splattered all over his rear windshield as he peeled out of the parking lot, swerving and narrowly missing an oncoming car.

Max turned to Jonesy, “Can you believe that fucker?”

“Who the fuck was that guy?” Jonesy adjusted her hat and hopped back in the van, laughing to herself.

“I was gonna drink that.” Max sulked and ate a garlic knot.

Jonesy crawled over to Max and pet his head, “Awww, Max! No be cry! Today is Chain-Slaughter day!” She gave him a big hug from behind and bit his ear, “Don’t let that chucklefuck get to you!”

“You shoulda let me bash him up,” Max swatted at Jonesy, “That would’ve made me feel better. Now I’ve got itchy static in my brain!”

Jonesy laid back in the van and sighed. Normally she was the one who was bent out of shape and Max was always there to bring her out of a funk. She hated when she couldn’t do the same for him. Her brain had been baked thoroughly at this point, but she muscled through the fog, through the seductive dopamine being released, until she arrived at the answer. The one thing she knew that could help Max. He just needed somewhere to release all that tasmanian devil energy that was gumming up the works.

She sat up and grabbed the boombox from Max’s van. She rummaged with determination through her backpack until she found exactly what she was looking for: Gang Green’s Another Wasted Night. She set the boombox down in front of the video store and turned it all the way up. “Haunted House” began its opening riff and Jonesy let loose, dancing and skanking by herself with abandon.

“Hey Max!” She motioned for him to join her. 

He couldn’t help himself, he smiled, “Yeah Jonesy!” and joined her.

The two danced and crashed into each other, as “Haunted House” faded into the title track, blasting throughout the strip mall parking lot. By the time “Skate to Hell” started playing, Jonesy could see her plan had worked, Max was singing and bouncing around, spinning and kicking and releasing all that unfocused rage. She smiled to herself and jumped onto her pal’s back, hugging him. The end of “Skate to Hell” brought them to Gang Green’s cover of “Voices Carry,” slowing the duo down, Jonesy and Max joined Chris Doherty’s charmingly off-key vocals. The two created a romantic pantomime as the song drowned out the world around them. The instinct to destroy (that guy’s face and property in particular) drained from Max completely, having converted into the primal joy of moshing with your best friend.

As the final cord of “L.D.S.B.” rang out into the dwindling friday afternoon, a punctuated “BWOOP” brought Jonesy and Max’s attention back to reality. A Lake’s End squad car had pulled up next to the van, directly in front of them. Max snarled, Jonesy crossed her arms and spit on the ground in front of her.

“Howdy hey!” A young officer in a clean and crisp, blue uniform emerged from the black and white. He had neat brown hair with blond highlights parted to the side, his toothy smile and apple cheeks shaped his blue eyes into crescent moons. He smoothed his lovingly tended mustache and hiked his belt as he made his way over to the video store.

Jonesy rolled her eyes and leaned back against the store, “Hey Stewie.”

“Fuck off, Stewie!” Max growled.

“What’cha guys up to? Ooh! Dance party?” Officer Stewart Mooney asked with genuine excitement. “I’m particular to the Lawnmower!”

Jonesy and Max stared blankly at Officer Mooney as they watched a grown man humiliate himself.

“The Sprinkler’s pretty great, too!” He demonstrated. “But that’s neither here nor there.” He chuckled, entertaining himself.

“What do you want, Stewie?” Jonesy almost rolled her eyes out of her skull, “We weren’t doing anything. Just playing music before our break ends.”

“Golly, Jonesy, that’s no problem!” Officer Mooney furrowed his brow, looking at his shoes and back to Jonesy. “It’s just that, unfortunately, we got a complaint about…” He raised a finger asking for a moment and pulled out his notepad, reading from it, “A pair of rude thugs loitering in front of the video store…” Jonesy and Max smiled and nodded at each other, fist bumping twice in quick succession.

Officer Mooney continued, “...harassing respectful and handsome potential patrons.” He looked up at them with his guileless baby blues. “Possibly out of jealousy.”

Max scoffed, “That’s bullshit! Come on Stewie, you know us. You know that’s a load of crap!”

“Well, Max, I mean, I know you guys are a couple of sweet little sugar cookies. All buttery and comforting, warm, like a Sunday morning in June.” 

“Okay, well, no that’s…stop saying stuff like that.” Max made sure no one was around to hear this. “We’re more like, nachos. Or maybe like, pickles…?

“What are you doing?” Jonesy interrupted.

“I don’t know!”

Mooney continued, ignoring them, “Just, crunchy exteriors. Hiding a soft, whipped, nougaty inside. Best friends. Just two lovely, sweet-”

“Yeah, okay!” Max cut him off. “Look, dude, that guy was starting shit with us, he slapped my soda out of my hand. Before that happened I was just about to let him into the store and everything.”

“Well, dang, that’s rude!” Mooney frowned, “Are you alright?” He took Max’s hand.

Max quickly took his hand back, “Hey, come on…”

Jonesy snickered at the bristling Max, “Stewie, is there something you need us to do, or whatever?”

“Nah! No worries. I just love an excuse to hang out with my oldest and best pals.” Mooney beamed.

“Is that how you see this?” Max asked delicately, raising an eyebrow.

“See what?” Mooney could not be phased.

The three just sat in thick silence for what felt like the rest of eternity, glancing at each other.

“Well!” Jonesy finally broke them all free from the conversational stand-off, “Looks like our break is just about over. We better get back to work and all…”

“Fiddlesticks! We were just starting to have some fun, too. Oh well!” Mooney was genuinely bummed their time together was ending. “Hey! You guys gonna be at the theater tonight?? I mean, it’s opening day of Chain-Slaughter 6, so I know that’s a goofy question to ask, but I just figured-”

“Yup, we are.” Max desperately searched for the store key in his pockets, desperate for an escape.

“I was thinking about catching that one myself! Now do I have to see the other five to understand what’s happening in this one, do you think?” Mooney began following them.

“I mean, it probably would improve your viewing experience…” Jonesy elbowed Max, whispering, “Come on, man.” 

Mooney chuckled, “You’re right, you’re probably right! You two are the experts! You know I’ve never been a big fan of scary movies. All that blood and killing. It’s a little ghoulish, don’t you think?”

“Stewie, we gotta get going, dude. Sorry! Store and all, you know.” Jonesy desperately tried to untether them from this conversation.

Mooney finally realized he had been following them into the store, “Golly! Sorry, guys! I’ll let you get back to it,” He turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks and spun back around, “I almost forgot, do you guys have Free Willy 2 in stock, by any chance? I gotta see what kinda mischief that big ol’ fish has gotten himself into this time!”

[tea-with-eleni]

I think literally everything about my museum is run on a "well it works, but it probably shouldn't, and we really ought to do something about it before it blows up in our faces" mentality.

The Electricity: The wiring was done by "a bunch of good old boys back before they had to worry about code" and the tech department has been swearing at it for years. Apparently when they first inherited the museum, they had a 1.5 million volt Tesla coil plugged into an off-the-shelf surge protector. It's a miracle nobody died. They've spent the last few months puzzling out the wiring in the offices. They still don't know what all the switches do, and I know there's about six switches in the office kitchen that just say "NO" and "DO NOT SWITCH".

The Dome: Our planetarium is literally kept running by witchcraft, and everything in it has been created by three chucklefucks who have had to teach ourselves how to code. The closest we have to an expert is probably me. I attended a hackathon on the precursor software in February 2020, mostly for the free food. We've found a bug so weird that apparently the actual experts in the software were flummoxed. The official take is "that sounds weird and bad".

The Closet: The education department has two closets. One is full of crafting supplies and was meticulously organized by our non-adhd department head back in May. The other... well... she tried. And we tried. But the rest of the department is VERY adhd, and then summer camp happened, and now it looks like the Kratt Brothers were turned loose with a much larger space. It's giving our poor department head nightmares.

The Dinosaurs: There are rather nice (if about 15 years out of date, which is to say featherless) dinosaur statues outside on the walking trails. Speakers play dinosaur noises during the day. For some reason, the speaker system is cross wired into the copy machine. If the dinosaurs aren't roaring then the copy machine doesn't work. Apparently some of the roars are courtesy of our poor tech who's been unraveling the wiring debacle.

The File System: You know how if you leave an ADHD person with access to too much information of any particular type, they'll go and become a fucking expert? Yeah, so that happened to our museum director and the museum's logs. She's told me a couple of times about some of the weird things she's found buried in the museum archives-that-we-aren't-even-supposed-to-have-because-we-aren't-that-type-of-museum with the tone of a person who is still trying to process the visceral strangeness of what they've found.

The Entrance Bridge: Yeah so apparently it's only avoided collapsing by virtue of... well, maybe witchcraft again, but also a decent amount of luck. They're actually closing for two weeks so we can fix it soon. I don't think it'll be an "all hands on deck, wear comfy clothes because somebody has to build it and it's going to be literally all departments" situation - although, you never know. Literally everyone was involved in repainting part of the office wing.

The Water Feature: We have this cannon thing that spans two floors and is great fun, because it involves launching playpen balls into a fountain. It just gets jammed a lot. You unjam it by retrieving The Broken Broom Handle from a corner, making a joke about using high tech tools, and poking around with it at an awkward angle until it's unjammed again. Probably a lesser evil, but still kinda funny.

The Ghosts: Possibly due to the amount of energy we pour into the atmosphere every day via the giant 1.5 million volt tesla coil, the museum is haunted as shit. I had someone pounding on the door of the dome earlier today. Nobody was there, except for one woman about fifteen feet away who seemed genuinely startled when I asked if anyone had knocked on the door. Weirdly, it sounded like one of those push-bar doors, even though it's a door with a turn-handle. Other ghosts have also been heard - there's one with a ring of jingly keys who draws attention to unlocked doors, for example.

The Staff: Of the staff, maybe one person? is neurotypical. Although I can't tell for sure. I think she might just be better at masking than the rest of us. The staff members on the spectrum try to point the adhd staff members in productive directions. Our department is currently looking for someone physically capable of organization and scheduling to handle the paperwork, outreach coordination, planning, and volunteer coordination. Because out of our department and the nearest adjacent department... well... the nearest adjacent department head got bored yesterday and spent a good thirty minutes melting crayons in the sun. Which distracted the other person in my department, who helped. The cardboard box of melted crayon art is now sitting in the middle of the floor. It may stay there for quite some time.

[drowninnoodles]

Long post again:

Honestly, I think the whole Legend in Deltarune was created just to get Player or Kris to get to the end of the game. Because playing the game makes Kris collect Crystals from Secret Bosses. Actually, I think Crystals are:

• either pieces of Gaster, his soul or literally of him as a person

• door pieces to the dark world in which is Gaster. Or parts of the machine that Sans and Papyrus can't put together because they don't have those pieces.

Whatever it is, I guess it's needed to free Gaster from the void or wherever he is right now.

It doesn't change the fact that I think a roar can happen. But I have a feeling the Legend itself is a bit of a lie. You know, I can't explain it, but I think the Roar will happen when we do what Ralsei asks us to do. I mean, he's either been lied to about the Legend, or he's deliberately lying to us.

I mean, Ralsei says the Roar will happen when there are too many Dark Fountains.

Theoretically, there are now two options:

• The roar will happen when we close all Fountains, contrary to what Ralsei says

• The roar will happen as Kris opens their Fountains without knowing that the Knight is opening his too. Kris opened the Fountain at the end of Chapter Two, but are they sure the Knight didn't open the Fountain elsewhere either? There is a chance that at the end of Chapter Two there are more Fountains than just the one opened by Kris and the one opened to the First Dark World.

So I think Chapter 7 is going to be a roar, but I don't think it will be like the Legend depicts. Maybe I think about it too much, there is just something wrong with it.

Now that we already know that chapter one is a Halloween reference

The following chapters are Christmas (probably, because Holiday Family)

The last one might be Easter (I mean especially those eggs and the resurrection)

I think whatever Roar is related to Gaster's return.

Especially since Gaster seems to be somewhere in the Dark World. But the Dark Worlds seem underground? I mean when Kris and Susie want to get into the Dark World, they jump into it.

Gaster also fell.

I do not know.

You think that:

a) Gaster fell into Core / Deltarune / whatever by mistake, by accident

b) was intentionally thrown / removed because he knew too much

c) he went in there himself, he came by because he was conducting an experiment and it's all planned

d) some other option and Gaster's brain is too big for us to understand his thought processes

And yes, I don't trust Ralsei at all, sorry.

He just seems to be the only one who knows the entire Legend. (And Maybe Seam) And Darkners from another Dark World do not turn into stone statues until they meet him.

Lancer turned into a statue after meeting Ralsei

Rouxls lasted much longer, but turned into a statue during the fight where Ralsei was

You can take a Starwalker with you, who never turns into a statue because he is not in the company of Ralsei.

I don't know folks, Ralsei is too suspicious for me.

Anyone have any idea what 'Roaring' might mean by the way? Especially in the context of Knight Papyrus.

[ppersonna]

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults. 

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. 

“What’s got you so perky this morning?” 

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead. 

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. ��I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness. 

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts. 

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag. 

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams. 

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words. 

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists. 

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares. 

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer. 

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces. 

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”. 

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?” 

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches. 

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic. 

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help. 

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.  

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?” 

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply. 

“Yes, I would l-love that.” 

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away. 

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey! 

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.  

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.  

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. 

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?” 

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes. 

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.  

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.” 

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.  

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off. 

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.  

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer​ 

[caleiiiii]

mcyt subway au pt 2 because this now lives in my mind rent free

check out part one here !!

ALSO GO FOLLOW @wassupmygays SHES BEEN HELPING ME WRITE A TON OF THIS

poster problems

sometimes wilbur hangs up “no furries” posters in the back room and then watches the camera footage back to see fundy rage and destroy them every single time

fundy tries to complain to phil but since he keeps destroying all the evidence phil cant really do anything

technically he could check the camera footage but he just. decides not to

dream team name origin

the name originates from when dream, george, and sapnap started working at the store

on the first day the three are left alone in the store they have one of the biggest rushes ever

like just 3 hours of nonstop customers

they handle it suprisingly well and jokingly call themselves the “dream team”

eventually the name just stuck

pogway pt 2

about two weeks after the first apperance of the “pogway” stickers, customers start asking questions

tommy always grins and replies that “its part of a new marketing strategy”

everyone else just sighs and says not to mention it

phil finally manages to strike a deal with tommy and tubbo

(tubbo had been helping tommy hack and edit the camera footage)

tommy got a small section he could decorate with “pogway” stickers as long as they stopped messing with security footage

needless to say, the boys took the offer

sleepy bois sleepover

wilbur manages to convince technoblade to let him, tommy, and tubbo in after the store closes to spend the night in there

he argues that theyre “getting a head start for their shift”

techno agrees as long as hes there to supervise

they all bring blankets and pillows

(maybe wilbur tries to get them to do another seance or smth??)

phil gets there early in the morning to do inventory

finds the 4 boys curled up in a pile on the floor

instead of waking them up, he takes about 1727812772 blackmail photos and leaves

the photos end up plastered all over the back room

soda monstrosities

theres a running competition among the employees to see who can make the worst combination of sodas from the fountain soda machine

dream used to hold the title, but was overtaken by schlatt as soon as he started

nobody knows how schlatt manages to mix such horrible soda flavours

feel free to add ur own ideas/ headcanons to this au !!!

tag list :)

@i-am-a-wizard @eva-ticket @oakskull @thesmpisonfire @trademarked-but-not-really @orange-is-salty-tm @pixelatedrose @hollow-hypocrite @astrono @nootella23 @hot-dumbass @jen-dot-net

[implexedactions]

Do Not Fight Back - Yandere Purge AU

Hey! So this was part of a server wide event I did with other members of Lovesick! They’re all super amazing and you should DEF check out the others who took part! This is inspired by the yandere purge AU created by @yanderemommabean (we have permission to use the AU). Read the linked post to find out more, but to cut things short. Yandere’s are legally free to capture their darlings, and it lasts from 6pm to 6am!

Beta’d by the best person ever: @drxwsyni

This contain YANDERE CONTENT!!!

---

It’s yandere purge night and you’re accidentally outside when it starts. It would be a shame if a certain flame hero was watching...

--- Your job ran late today, because of course it fucking did. It was yandere purge night, not that your boss seemed all that concerned. Although, from the look on his face…well, best not think about that. He probably wasn’t after you, hopefully. You walked down the urban street, past the closed shops and locked buildings. You glanced towards the sunset, the sun's orange glow disappearing over the horizon. Wait, what? It wasn’t THAT late, right? Sure, work ran late, but you finished at 5 PM, not 6 PM?

You opened your phone, you had…a minute before the sirens…fuck.

You dashed into an alley, crouching next to a vending machine, it wasn’t ideal, but staying out there could mean certain death. You’re an idiot for even letting this happen to you. You’re NEVER meant to remain outside during tonight. A yandere could kill you if they even THINK you’re trying to interfere. You rummage through your pockets...nothing except a phone and some loose coins.

The sirens ring throughout the city

No weapon, no quirk, no safety, no chance. You hold your head in your hands, freaking out. No one would think of helping you, you could be a yandere trying to get at them. Your best bet is to stay here until it is over, potentially using the vending machine for dinner.

Your phone buzzes.

---6:01PM---

[HellFire]: Hello.

[HellFire]: You do not know who I am, but I have been keeping my eye on you for a long time.

[You]: Oh god…please don’t say you’re after me…

[HellFire]: I propose a hunt.

[HellFire]: I catch you, the obvious happens.

[HellFire]: You evade me for the next 12 hours? You go free.

[HellFire]: The rules? Always keep your phone on you and online, I will be sending messages. Respond to my messages, or you will pay dearly. Do not worry about other people, if they try to hurt you, I will burn them to ash. If I catch you, no fighting back. Break any of the rules, and there will be hell to pay.

[You]: What?! Can I at least ask some questions? Is my phone bugged? Do you know where I am now? Can I hide or do I have to keep running? Why me?

[HellFire]: Mind, I do not expect you to win. I am the number one hero for a reason.

[HellFire]: The hunt begins. Do try to have fun tonight, my dear.  

…Endeavor?! Enji Todoroki, the number one hero, was after you?! You’d be flattered if you weren’t shaking with fear. You try to take some deep breaths.

---6:03PM---

[HellFire]: I would run, my darling… I doubt hiding behind a vending machine will do you any favours….

[You]: How do you know my location already?!

You run out of the alley; the street illuminated poorly by streetlights. Enji knew where you were, specifically that you were behind a vending machine. He’s either got cameras, or he was right in your line of sight. You sprint down the street, most people aren’t stupid enough to be out, and you give most yanderes a wide berth. You see one with a darling, you force your eyes away and continue to run.

Your lungs are burning, exercise isn’t your strong point, and one can’t operate on adrenaline alone.

---6:09PM---

[HellFire]: Tired already? I did not realise you were so weak…such a pity, I expected a fight from you…

[You]: No one expects to be running down a street from a goddamn villain?!

[HellFire]: …disrespect?

[HellFire]: Unacceptable.

As you’re running, a car behind you blows up, fire scattering onto the street. You still can’t see him.

You notice a mall still open. None of the shops would be in business, but the area might provide a suitable hiding place. You run into it, sliding doors opening to let you into the air-conditioned space. You steal a glance behind you, no one visible on the street or rooftops.

---6:11PM---

[HellFire]: A shopping centre? I hope you do not expect a gaudy fountain to save you.

[You]: Fuck you, honestly.

[HellFire]: That is quite a bold statement for someone in your position.

[HellFire]: Most criminals at this point are kissing my boots, begging for mercy, and yet, you show defiance. Breaking you should be fun.

You run down a corridor, reaching an entirely empty circular food court. Fast food shops line the walls, with two, opposite facing exits to the area, both leading onto streets. Silence is abundant as you run through, dodging chairs and tables, desperate to make it to the other side.

The sound of an electronic sliding door reaches your ears. Panicking, you dive over a business’s countertop, hiding behind it as you try not to breathe too loudly. You hastily switch your notifications off, so him texting you won’t reveal your location.

---6:15PM---

[HellFire]: You know something I learnt from my job?

[You]: What?

[HellFire]: Someone can know they are being hunted, but not know they are already trapped. The villains are overburdened by fear and hope, of both capture and escape. They desperately reach their hands out to touch a goal you know is impossible to reach.

[HellFire]: That feeling… of knowing their entire future is at my mercy…

[HellFire]: is sublime.

[HellFire]: …

[HellFire]: Say, how are you finding that uncomfortable food stall floor?

“Hello, darling…”

“No! Get away from me!”

You bound over the counter, avoiding his hands, and desperately try to reach the exit. You turn around, and he is just…standing there. Looking at you. With a smirking grin on his face. He’s wearing his hero suit, flames dancing up his body. He loves this, he likes thinking you’re some object to be captured. You run out onto the street, cold night air hitting you in the face, the sun has entirely disappeared now, all traces of it gone.

Where the hell can you go that you’ll be safe?! It hasn’t even been 30 minutes of this torture; you’ve got so much time left! Panting, you notice he has exited the building too, but he just stands there, looking at you, grin adorning his face. You spot a train station.

You run towards the train station and don’t look back. You jump the ticket gate, feeling that your life matters more than a civic duty. You run up the stairs onto the platform. The trains won’t be running, but maybe you can run along the tracks if it comes down to it? As you try to catch your breath, you realise something…you turned your phone notifications off in the mall, which means he could be messaging you, and you wouldn’t know.

Scrambling you pull out your phone.

---6:22---

[HellFire]: If I were you, I would not take another step towards that train station.

[HellFire]:  ...?

[HellFire]: Oh, are you not checking your messages now?

[HellFire]: I warned you, remember that…

---6:30---

[You]: I’m sorry! I swear, I didn’t mean to ignore it! It was my phone

[HellFire]: I can not believe what I just saw.

[HellFire]: You leapt over that gate like a common criminal.

[HellFire]: So, now I have to punish you for multiple reasons. You ignored so many rules…

[You]: I didn’t mean to, I swear! I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!

[HellFire]: You fought back when you were captured.

[You]: It wasn’t fighting back?! It was escaping, capture would be grabbing me.

[HellFire]: You didn’t check your messages.

[You]: Like I said, my phone was off, it was an accident!

[HellFire]: You IGNORED my commands.

[You]: My phone was off! I didn’t KNOW there were commands!

[HellFire]: You broke the law.

[You]: I was going to go back and pay the $1.50 tomorrow!

[HellFire]: And we are only 30 minutes into this hunt.

[HellFire]: Tell me, darling.

[HellFire]: Did you really think you could outrun me?

[HellFire]: The top hero?

[HellFire]: I knew you were not the smartest person, considering, well, everything about you.

[HellFire]: But this really takes the cake.

[You]: Oh, honestly, fuck you. Why do you even WANT me?! We’ve NEVER met!

 [HellFire]: …you’re quite disrespectful…

[HellFire]: I will have to fix that.

“Face me.”

You whip around to see him staring at you, sadistic grin adorning his face. You turn to run, but his large hands grab your arms, holding you in place. He picks you up and turns you around, so you’re facing him. His hands are noticeably warmer than they should be.

“There. Captured enough for you?” He says with a smirk.

“Please! Just let me go!” You shout, struggling against his arms fruitlessly. You scream and kick, managing to bring a foot against his knee. He noticeably winces.

“I warned you about fighting back, you insolent brat!” His face steels as his hands become warmer. You can now feel his breath down your face as your squirm, desperate to escape the burning hands and singing clothes.

“I…I…Why me?!” Tears start to fall down your face as you realise this might be your fate.

“Because you shouldn’t be anyone else’s. Do you recall that train villain? Such a stupid villain, but I digress. I saw you try to help people, helping people off the train when it arrived at the station and calming that little kid. It was so…kind, so generous. You were a true hero. I need that in my life, so you are mine.” He at least has the decency to not look you directly in the eyes. His hands cooled down a bit while he was speaking. He seems somewhat ashamed by what he’s done.

Somewhat.

“You could’ve just approached me! Hell, I’m not going to turn down a meeting with the number one hero?! You’re a fucking idiot!”

“Attacking someone while they are vulnerable is usually considered bad form, brat. But I see you have no qualms attacking me.” His palms heat up again, but he seems to have a looser grip on you. Maybe if you…

“I’m sorry, okay? This is just a lot to take in. I…I do admire you, as a hero y’know? I always considered you so calming. You made the city feel so much s-safer, you made ME feel safer.” You look him in the eyes, trying to act as small and gentle as possible. His warm breath washes over your body as he seems to re-examine you. Just a little bit further and…

You bring your knee into his lungs as he is breathing in, winding him. He drops you and you turn on your heel and jump onto the train tracks, running off down the tracks.

He shouts after you.

“Bad idea brat! You want to be punished? Fine then!”

You stare ahead, no trains seem to be running, so you won’t have to make a choice between death and getting run over by a train. You follow the train tracks until you reach a tunnel. You turn around and see him merely walking menacingly toward you, not even running. He has such an angry look on his face, flame beard shooting out in rage. The fire touches a signal box, and it melts to the ground almost instantly. Yeah, no, you aren’t dealing with that. You turn and run inside the tunnel, desperate to escape him. You hear a roar from behind you as fire shoots past your head, hitting the cylindrical wall and dissipating.

“I missed on purpose, stop at once! I will not hesitate you ungrateful bitch!”

You stop and turn around to face him, tremors running through your body.

“Stop approaching me, please?! Can’t we just talk?!” You say shuffling back with each step he takes towards you.

He raises an eyebrow, and astonishingly, he stops, about 8 paces away.

“Fine.”

“I…please, just let me go! I don’t want this!” you say, tears running down your face.

“And why would I care what YOU want, bitch?”

“Because y-you love me o-or ..desire me or something?!”

“Pfft. Maybe, but you know how this works by now.” He takes a step forward, you stand still. His flames cast flickering shadows against the tunnel walls.

“I’m sure you have co-workers, family, friends, who disappeared never to be seen again, OR have a pet of their own.” He takes a step forward, you stand still. His feet leave the rocks red hot.

“You know you cannot escape me. It has not even been an hour.” He steps forward, you stand still. You can feel his heat now.

“Do you expect to run all over the city, making daring escapes and just barely being able to stay out of my grasp for 12 hours? To evade capture from the number one hero?” He steps forward, you stand still. His flames die down, but your body feels like it’s overheating.

“You woke up at 5:12 AM today and had a shift from 7 AM to 5:45 PM. You are not going to be able to keep up this adrenaline and energy til 6AM tomorrow. Being awake for 24 hours is not an easy feat, my dear.“ He steps forward, you stand still. Your tears on your face start to evaporate.

“Oh, do remind me to thank your boss for keeping you late. Money does wonders to people's sense of ethics.” He steps forward, you stand still. He chuckles quietly at the situation and examines your body.

“You cannot escape me, you have no quirk, no talents, no skills. This is not a fair fight because it is not a fight, my dear. It is a hunt, and you seem to have this silly notion that the fox can escape the hound.” He steps forward, you stand still. His hand reaches out to grab your arm, and you do nothing to stop it.

“Advice for your new life, when I give a command, my dear, it helps to oblige. So, hear me when I say: Do. Not. Fight. Back.”

You do not fight back.  

[mizelophsun11]

Mizeloph's Tale Chapter 11

Pairing - really diving into General Kirigan x OC Sun Summoner in this chapter, but it is also getting closer to when it will turn to Kaz Brekker x OC Sun Summoner

Summary - Two sides of the same coin are finally coming together but it will be up to them to see where things lead. Nature might know that these two balance each other out, but is it intended that they will end up together? Time will tell where their story will go.

Word Count - 1956

-

Anna was deep in a hazy dream when she was suddenly awoken by a knock at the door, she quickly sat up and felt her sketchbook fall into her lap. She rubbed her eyes then grabbed the book, closed it and put it back under her pillow where it normally stayed. Another knock at the door brought her attention back to whoever wanted Anna awake at a much earlier time than what had become normal.

“Come on in!” Anna said, wanting to make sure whoever was on the other side could hear her

Genya walked in with a few maids and a large beige bag in her arms “good morning sunshine”

Anna laughed a little “I don’t exactly look like sunshine right now..” she had cried herself to sleep last night, she was sure her eyes were a little bit puffy

Genya hung the bag up and walked over to the bed and looked at Anna “we have a bit of time before you are to go horseback riding with General Kirigan to fix you up” Genya had heard about what had happened and felt bad for Anna

“Wait, horseback riding with General Kirigan? Should I not be training? Seems like Ivan thinks I should be constantly training instead of goofing off with horses..” Anna was still feeling uneasy about what had happened at dinner

“It doesn’t hurt to have a little bit of fun, yes you could be training, but it is also healthy for you to be able to go out and be a girl for once and not a training machine” Genya smiled, she had seen Anna try and go beyond the Little Palace court yard and was stopped every time, hopefully this would do her some good “plus, I thought I could show you this” she brought a beige bag over that she unzipped to reveal a black kefta with gold swirls

Anna was blown away by the kefta, she ran her hands over the black, she loved it “well, if I wear this it will definitely make Zoya jealous” she laughed a little at the idea

“Didn’t you hear? She is off the palace grounds, he sent her away to reassess her priorities” Genya never really liked Zoya, she would always enjoy times when Zoya was sent to the front line so she would be out of the Little Palace

Anna nodded and continued to examine the new kefta “I know black is his color.. But I really want to wear it” Anna got up and changed

Genya began to work on Anna to fix her hair and anything else that was needed. Once she was done, she helped Anna put the black kefta on and she looked at herself in the mirror. This was a piece that she did not know she needed, but now that she had it would not want to go back. Anna had liked the blue kefta a lot, but the black one made her feel just a bit more comfortable. After all, she had always worn black in Ketterdam, this is what she knew and it felt like now she had a little piece of herself. Her and Genya walked out to the courtyard where General Kirigan was, he was amazed by seeing Anna wear the black kefta.

“You decided to wear it” He was captivated by her, it didn’t take much because to him she was the light wherever she went

Anna nodded “yeah, I really liked the blue, but wearing the black one just felt right” she walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek “thank you for letting me wear your color” she pulled away a little

General Kirigan rested his hand on her cheek “it’s our color” he smiled down at her then pulled his hand away

She smiled back and looked over at the horses, she approached the white friesian horse she would be riding “oh he is beautiful”

General Kirigan watched her “I thought you would like him”

He got on his horse and she had help getting onto hers, she gathered up her reins and they galloped off. It was a good day for riding, it wasn’t too hot and was partly cloudy, a little bit of shade with the nice breeze. Anna felt free, she was finally able to be off the ground of the Little Palace, she never realized until now that it had become a bit suffocating. Now that she had this, maybe life at the Little Palace wouldn’t be stuck behind the same four walls every day. After about an hour of riding, General Kirigan showed Anna the pathway to a hidden spot away from everyone else where a small fountain was placed. When they got there they tied their horses to a tree and walked over, General Kirigan pulled out a few coins from his kefta and gave some to Anna. She walked up and tossed one of the coins into the water, she approached and looked at herself in the water.

General Kirigan walked up and stood behind her “what is it you see?”

Anna thought for a moment “I'm not sure.. I have been trying to find myself, but every time I think I do everything changes..”

“Well, maybe your search is finally over” he watched from behind seeing what she would do

She looked over her shoulder at him “I sure hope so”

He moved to standing next to her “how has your time been at the Little Palace so far? Are you adjusting well?”

“I think it’s good, combat training has been good, I met Baghra yesterday and that went well, I think. I feel like people normally have a hard time with Baghra, am I right?”

General Kirigan nodded “everyone has some sort of challenges with her, what about your room, is it satisfactory to you?”

“It’s amazing, I have never had my own room before” Anna had always shared a room with Alina and in Ketterdam she didn’t even have a roof over her head “I am glad Genya has been at my side, I feel like I can always talk to her about anything.. I just think right now I am trying to find out what this life here will be like. I want a home, nothing has really stuck until I have come here and been given the chance” she felt stupid talking about having a home, one that is forever, but she had never had one before and Anna really wanted one

“I understand Miss Mizeloph, more than I think you know.. When I was young, I would be on the move, never really finding a home until here. However, even then there were times when I would come to this fountain because I could not outrun the fact that I am the descendant of the most hated Grisha in all of Ravka. I questioned how I could feel welcomed in a home that I feel like did not want me.. So at this fountain I would make a wish and hope that maybe things would change”

Anna watched General Kirigan “but if you found a home here, maybe I can too” she stepped closer to him and took his hand into hers, they were each other's support “this fountain is beautiful by the way, and the carvings are well preserved, it tells the story of the Black Heretic, correct?” she let go of his hand and backed up a little to look more closely at the artwork

He turned around and looked at her, impressed “from these old photos you could tell it was his story?”

“My nose was stuck in a book the moment I arrived at the orphanage, and not for the right reasons..” she looked at the pictures, examining the story “Hundreds of years ago King Anastas hired the Black Heretic to be his military advisor. However, the Heretic became hungry for power and the King feared a coup so a bounty was put on his head, along with any Grisha that stood by him. He knew he would be outnumbered so he tried to create his own army with a forbidden science, he failed. Instead he created the Fold and was killed by it along with many others..” Anna looked to General Kirigan, trying to see if she had any errors in reciting what she had been taught

He listened to what she said “I have devoted my life to work on undoing the problems created by my forebears, but I realized that I am not the solution. I am just a reminder of the problem and someone always needs to be blamed”

Anna looked over at him “is that why you look at me sometimes like I am the solution? The legendary Sun Summoner has been found and all problems will be solved.. But if people decide that I am not the hope they wanted, I will become a Heretic that people paint in a dark story..”

“Anna Mizeloph, I promised I would keep you safe, and I will make sure that does not happen to you” He said, approach her and taking her hands into his “you and I are going to change the world”

She looked up to him and smiled “you didn’t call me Miss Mizeloph.. Like you normally do”

He didn’t even realize that “well, if I can call you Anna, then can you please call me Aleksander?”

Anna nodded, looking deep into his dark eyes, they were truly alone, since they had gotten to the Little Palace they had not been alone like this, far away from others. At that moment it was like they were the only two people in the world. Slowly they began to lean into each other and when Anna closed her eyes she could feel his lips meet hers. A kiss, their first kiss, it was a very sweet moment for them. They had found each other, two sides of the same coin, a balance that the other needed to feel whole. For both of them they felt like the kiss lasted forever, but really it was only a few seconds. Both pulled away and gazed into each other's eyes, they did not want to leave, but reality waited for no one.

“I.. should probably get you back to Baghra, she is not the biggest fan of tardiness” Aleksander said

Anna nodded “yeah”

They both didn’t move right away, standing there for a minute before going back to their horses and riding back to the Little Palace. However, they both mutually slowed down and wanted to continue to spend more time together. Both of them had blossoming feelings and now that they were out, they wanted to not be apart for too long. Once they finally got back they dismounted and went to each other.

“I hope we can do this again sometime” Anna said grabbing onto Aleksanders hand

Aleksander nodded “we will”

They watched their horses be put away by the stable hands then they walked towards Baghras place. On their way to Baghras, Aleksander brought Anna's hand up and kissed the top. As they got closer, Aleksander stopped, wanting their last interaction before Anna went to work on her summoning be private.

She got on her toes and gave him a quick kiss “thank you for such a wonderful morning Aleksander”

“You are welcome Anna, maybe we could do something together soon, just the two of us” he held her close then kissed her forehead

Anna smiled “I would love that”

General Kirigan and Anna parted, their hearts growing closer to one another. Two sides of the same coin were coming together now and nature could only tell what would happen next.

-

Author Note - Hi Everyone! Thank you for everyone who has been sticking around to read my story! I know that I have been a lot slower about updating and I am really trying to get back to some schedule which I hope will be soon. Soon I will be moving into an apartment and so after that things should hopefully slow down a bit in life to wrap everything up. Also, if anyone would like to leave a comment, message me or be added to the tag list please let me know!

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

[jimlingss]

Until Yesterday

➜ Words: 10.4k

➜ Genres: 75% Fluff, 22% Angst, 3% Smut

➜ Summary: You and Taehyung are hopeless as you are hopeless romantics. But five months after tying the knot and saying "I do", you're hospitalized after a car accident with him. But upon waking up, the doctors tell you that you don't have a husband.

➜ Notes: Inspired by the movie The Vow (2012) and a bit of The Notebook (2004). This is purely an indulgent fic for all my hopeless romantics out there, so it’s a bit different from my usual!

cr.

Marriage was nothing like they told you.   It’s true that not much has changed from when you were dating or engaged, that merely the title of your relationship has slightly altered, but you have no regrets doing it at all. They always told you to wait until the honeymoon phase was over — that you'll find yourself tired and driven crazy by him. They told you to wait a few years down the line when you’re not having sex anymore and you’ll be so sick of each other, it’ll be like living with an awful roommate-child than being a couple in love. You’ll be bored when something becomes a normal routine, they said.   But it isn’t like that at all.   If anything, you’re more in love with Taehyung than ever.    “We should put the couch right here.”   “Well, we need to buy a couch first, Tae.”   “Didn’t you like the leather one we saw today?”   “I mean...I didn’t love it and it’s a bit pricey, don’t you think?”   “It’s fine. Leave it to me and the bank account!” The blonde grins and pats his own chest and it only garners your scoff. “I’ll take care of you. It’s the least I can do.”   “I make the same as you, idiot.”   It took years of hard work and dedication for the two of you to get to where you are, to have landed your dream jobs and built your dream house together. But of all the sweat and tears, you wouldn’t trade the outcome for anything else.    The house was newly built in a developing neighbourhood, the scent of cut wood and paint still lingering in each room. The white picket fence surrounds the seashell home with the dark brown roof, glass windows large and bringing light into the open concept structure along with the skylights. It has the cherry wood door reminiscent to that of your old dollhouse and a swing out back tied to the tree that Taehyung wanted. It was all the two of you could’ve ever dreamed of and you’re eager to move in, to bring in your furniture and allow this home to grow with you.   “Why is the master bedroom larger than I remembered?”   Taehyung’s laugh echoes down the hall and you hear footsteps becoming louder against the wooden floorboards. “Maybe the construction team came in during the middle of the night and expanded the room for us for free.”   “Yeah maybe,” you playfully quip back at him. “Maybe they’ll consider expanding our backyard too, so we can put that marble fountain in. It might cost more than this house, but you said I could trust in you and the bank account, right?”   Taehyung peels you off of him when you glue yourself to his side and giggle. Batting your lashes at him has little effect. “Fountain is still a no-go, sweetheart.”   You grin at him and waltz to the adjacent room, peeking your head into the modest space. “We still need to decide what to do with this spare room, Taehyung. If we want to turn it into another bedroom for when your mom visits or maybe an office.”   Suddenly, arms wrap around your waist and you ease as your husband props his chin on your shoulder. It’s one of his many habits of his that you love. “How about we save it for a nursery?”   The corner of your mouth quirks and you turn your head. “Are you sure?”   “As sure if you are.”    You spin around in his arms to plant a kiss against his mouth — one where Taehyung steals the opportunity and deepens it, catching you off guard. He pulls you in by your waist when you threaten to pull apart and he smiles at the whimper that comes out of you.   When the pair of you finally part, you’re unable to resist the smile that spreads into your cheeks and your arms loop around his neck. “Kim Taehyung, aren’t you blessed? There’s no one I’d rather have a baby with than you.”   His mouth forms into a rectangular grin. “You shouldn’t tempt me when we’re going to be late for our reservations already.”   “Late?” Your lips fall and you check your watch before your eyes grow wide.    Taehyung laughs and strolls behind you as you rush out, grabbing your coat and screaming at him to get the car started.   It’s another one of those date nights. One where intimate conversations are shared over a candlelight dinner. Until Taehyung accidentally catches the tablecloth on fire and the candlelight is removed by an exasperated waiter and the intimacy in your discussion ends up with him doing something dumb and water nearly spewing out of your nose from laughing, and the other patrons are glaring at the ruined atmosphere.   Still, with a generous tip paid, you leave full and happy.   “Anything you want to watch tonight?” you ask as he’s driving. It’s peaceful with the roads emptier at this time of night and the radio playing some generic pop song in the back. You count the lamp posts that pass by.   “Hmm...how about we do something else tonight.”   Your head turns. “Like what?”   Taehyung steals a glance at you and smirks. “I was thinking that we would drive back to the new house and break in that mattress we just got. Maybe get that kid you were talking about.”   You scoff, looking straight out the windshield as you feel your face heat. Even after so many years with him, he still knew what to say to affect you. “It’s not that easy, you know, and that mattress is still wrapped in the living room.”   “It’s fine. Better start now than later. And it’s our house, we can taint it however we want to.”   It doesn’t take much for you to agree — and you do so in the midst of laughter.   You shamelessly stare at Taehyung’s profile, the strands of his blonde hair that desperately needs a trim, his long lashes that you’ve always been envious of, the slope of his nose and his thin lips that always knows how to kiss you right. Taehyung’s thick brow cocks when he notices your blatant staring, but you don’t care. You’re just filled with joy and at a loss for words at how he’s with you.   He’s yours.   The two of you are too wrapped up in one another to pay mind to the car behind you. To the piercing beam lights. The wheels that screech against the asphalt. The sheer speed of the vehicle and recklessness of the intoxicated driver.   So when the rear of the car is slammed into and you both lurch forward into the intersection of the road, it’s a shock.    //   The white fluorescent burns your eyes.    It’s hard to see and you can’t feel your body. Not even your fingers that begin to twitch. You’re disoriented and delirious, not sure what day it is, how long you’ve been out, where exactly you are. It’s all muddled in your mind. All you can discern is a constant rhythm of beeping beside you and the odour of disinfect filling your senses. You’re scared — but you’re overwhelmed with the thought of Taehyung.    Taehyung.   You jolt in your spot and the rhythm of the machine quickens until it’s like an alarm, sounding aloud and making you panic even more. But then there’s a rush of people entering the room, white coats and scrubs checking the machines and lines hooked up from you.   “Ms. Y/N, I am doctor Jeon.” There’s a man looking down at you and you blink blearily at him. “You’ve been in a coma for three days now. Is there anyone we can call for you?”   “M-My husband,” you cry out with a parched throat.   The doctor looks to the nurse but she frowns and shakes her head. “The patient doesn’t have a husband.”   You don’t have a husband?   At once, sobs wrack through your entire body and you thrash despite the aches in your bones and your ankle wrapped in bandages. The doctor and nurse are alarmed and you choke out the words— “I-Is he okay? Is he dead?”   “Ma’am,” the doctor calmly says, “you were the only one injured on the scene.”   Before you can utter a word, a man comes from the doorway. His hair is dark, matching the hue lined underneath his exhausted eyes. His features are soft and evidently tired like he hasn’t slept in the past few days. You don’t know who he is but he stares right at you — and then a relieved smile draws upon his features, one that is too comfortable and familiar.   “Y/N?” His voice is deeper than expected and he closes the distance. The nurse is visibly confused, but he quickly introduces, “I’m her partner, Min Yoongi.”   You recoil back before he can touch you, even when the hurt comes across his expression.    “I-I’m sorry.” You don’t know who he is. “I think you have the wrong person.”

It’s hard to cope — your entire universe has been flipped upside down and you don’t know what to think. Suddenly by opening your eyes, your entire life has been swept from underneath your feet. Everything that you loved and cared about is gone. And you’re left alone to deal with it.   “I-I remember being with my husband. We were driving back from dinner and planning to take a detour to the new house, but then a car rear-ended us and we were brought out into the intersection,” you recall.   But the doctor’s brows furrow. “I see. Well, I can tell you that you weren’t in a car accident, Ms. Y/N. You were injured after falling down the flight of stairs at the subway station. You’ve been in a coma for three days.”   It doesn’t make any sense and you squeeze your temples. But it hurts. Everything feels like a dream, like you’re floating and not truly grounded in reality. Your surroundings are hazy and you wonder if this is just a hallucination — a very frightening one, a world where Taehyung doesn’t exist.   “What year was the car accident?” the doctor asks suddenly and you exhale, trying to remember the date.    “It was late January of 2016.”   “Ms. Y/N, it’s 2020 right now.”   It’s a shock through your system. At first, you sputter, choking on your own spit. The doctor is kind enough to give you a moment but when you press your hand to your chest, you wince at the bruises around your wrist. Then you open your mouth and close it, finding yourself rendered absolutely speechless. Your brain is melting into itself and you have an urge to get up and scream.   “What?”   “It looks like you have a four year memory gap,” Doctor Jeon says as if he’s prescribing you with cold medication and if you weren’t bedridden, you might just throttle him to the floor. “It’s okay, these things happen with your sort of injury. It should be fine and only temporary. You can get your memory jogging again after looking at mementos, pictures, or talking to the right people.”   “Anyways, we’ll keep you here for a few more days just to monitor that head injury, but it looks like your ankle is healing nicely. There’s no cause for concern, really.”   The doctor ends up leaving and you repress the urge to cry again.   You don’t know where Taehyung is and you miss him.   //   Your so-called partner appears days later to help with your hospital discharge and pack up your belongings. You learn his name is Min Yoongi and that he’s two years older than you are. He works as a car mechanic in a shop and you’ve apparently been with him for a whole year.    Yet, you can’t help but stay guarded, watching him from the corner with your arms crossed while you try to decipher his impassive expression. The man is quiet, but not in an angry or frightening way. He never asks you questions, makes demands out of you or once appears exasperated with your distant behaviour. He seems gentle somehow.    You wonder what your relationship with him was like.   “T-Thank you,” you murmur as he packs the slippers he had brought for you into the duffle bag.   Min Yoongi turns his head and the corner of his mouth pulls into an oddly warm smile. His voice is husky when he says, “You don’t need to thank me. I’m just happy to see you walking around again.”   You’re taken aback.   You aren’t used to receiving this kind of love and affection from someone other than Taehyung and from a stranger no less. It makes you unsettled. Conflicted.   The car ride is smooth. Yoongi helps you into your seat and buckles you in without making you speak much of a word. You’re not sure where you’re going, but you spend your time looking out at the window and taking in what you’ve missed for four years, or rather what your mind no longer recalls.    Luckily, it seems like the world hasn’t changed too much.   The streets are familiar, lined with lamp posts and bike racks. There are different billboards and some buildings you don’t recognize, but it looks like many things have stayed the same. The street names, avenues and boulevards, the people jogging and walking their dogs — it hasn’t changed.   “Hey, Tae—”    Except for the person driving beside you.    You turn your head and blood drained from your face, realizing that it’s not your husband you’re sitting beside. “N-Never mind.”   There’s a moment of quiet.   Then Yoongi’s lips part. “It’s okay.” He glances at you and your eyes meet. “It’s okay,” he repeats with a small smile that makes you even more burdened.   The apartment is modest yet cozy. A living room with cushions out of place and souvenirs on the shelves next to the television. The kitchen is to the left, cups in the sink and refrigerator haphazardly filled with take out boxes. It’s lived in, full of memories that you don’t have. But above all, you notice there’s only one bedroom and there are male belongings assorted with yours.    Shaving cream. Gel. Cologne.    “You live here?” you ask Yoongi, coming to the living room where he was giving you a chance to look around for yourself, perhaps hoping that you would remember something.   “We live together,” he corrects with a tiny smile. “But it’s okay. I’m planning on staying at a friend’s place, so you don’t have to worry about me being here if that makes you uncomfortable.”   “You…” Your mouth opens before closing, startled at how considerate he is. “You don’t have to. I mean, this place is yours too. It seems unfair if I kick you out. You should...stay.” Yoongi smiles and you shy away from his attention. “I...might not be comfortable sharing a bed with you though…”   “Okay.” He nods. “I can take the couch.”   That night, you lay awake in the foreign bed, unable to sleep and staring at the ceiling. It feels like you’ve been asleep for four years anyways, although it’s technically only been three days.    Your brain is swimming in confusion. You’re not sure what to think. One moment you were with Taehyung and the next, you don’t have him beside you anymore and you’re with someone else.   Taehyung….   You reach over to the nightstand and switch on the lamp. A dim yellow light softly fills the room and you begin to truly investigate your surroundings. On a pinboard near the door are pictures of you and Yoongi, selfies taken where you’re both smiling with one another, one of you at a carnival and another at an aquarium. The vanity drawer holds jewelry that you don’t recognize, perhaps ones that Yoongi had bought for you. Your phone contains grocery lists and miscellaneous notes that make no sense. There’s nothing on your social media, no connection, nothing once you search his name up. All you discover is work-related things in your calendar, more pictures of you and Yoongi and affectionate texts between the two of you.    There’s no trace of Taehyung whatsoever.   But when you dig into the closet and find a box at the top shelf hidden away, your answer is found. It’s inside a box of paperwork — school awards, certificates of achievements, evidence of your first paycheck, your birth certificate, social security papers, and divorce papers.   You and Taehyung got divorced in April 2018.    Two years and eight months after getting married. And it’s been a year and ten months since.   The paper crumples underneath your hands and you gather your knees together on the floor as quiet sobs break through you once again. You don’t know what happened. Where it all went wrong.   //   When morning comes, you hope the swelling and redness of your eyes from crying so much isn’t noticeable. If it is, Yoongi doesn’t say anything and only regards you with a gentle smile.    “I was going to stay home today, but I thought it might be overwhelming for you,” he says before you can protest otherwise, “so I’ll be at work. Take it easy, okay? You can call me anytime you want for anything. My number is in your phone.”   You nod. “Thank you, Yoongi.”   His smile is sweet. “I already told you, it’s not a problem.”   But half an hour after Yoongi leaves, you prepare for your own departure. Hobbling with your weight on one foot and off the one with your injured ankle, you grab a coat and the car keys laying on the counter. It takes a moment to figure out which one is your vehicle in the lot but you find it after pressing the panic button. It looks brand new — apparently recently repaired and the reason why you had to take the subway and how you got your head injury in the first place.   It might be wrong to leave without giving a warning to Yoongi, especially when he’s so worried about you, but you can’t stay idle at the apartment. You can’t sit still. You need answers.   You drive to the house — turning down the familiar streets and roads before coming into the neighbourhood that feels like you had been in just a week ago when it’s probably been years.   But you don’t recognize it anymore. It's more developed than you last remembered. What once were empty lots have other homes built. All the sidewalks are paved, there’s an elementary school down the avenue, a new playground that shines, neighbours that have moved in.   What hasn’t changed is the house itself.    There’s still the white picket fence that surrounds the seashell white home, a shade you had personally picked yourself when building it. The roof is a dark brown and the front door cherry wood. The glass windows are large with baby blue curtains and you wonder if there’s still the swing in the backyard….   You get out of the car, feeling your emotions swell up to your throat and your eyes becoming watery as you gave upon the house. This was the place you had built with Taehyung. The place you both had planned to live in for years. The place you wanted to raise your kids, grow old and retire in.    It was perfect. The combination of your dreams.   Where did it all go wrong?   You close the distance, limping up the path to the door and knocking on it. After a moment, you ring the doorbell properly. But even then, there are no answers and you notice that the Kim nameplate under the mailbox is gone.   Of course. It’s been over four years after all.   You cross the street back to your car again, but not before catching sight of a woman bringing groceries up her driveway and towards her own house.    “Um, excuse me.”   She turns at your voice, brows lifted.   “Do you happen to know who lives there?” You point to what was once your home.   But unfortunately, she shakes her head. “Sorry, I don’t. I know that house has been sold a few times and the owners have recently changed again.”   “Oh. Thank you.”   It’s hard to leave the house behind you, but you keep your foot on the gas pedal and drive, never glancing out the rear-view mirror in fear of bursting into tears again.   You still have more questions than answers, so your next destination becomes downtown where Taehyung’s engineering firm is. The two of you had met in school, back when you were awkward and chasing after your ambitions of being a chemical engineer like your aunt while for him, he wanted to take his childhood lego dreams to the max and become a civil engineer.   Your neck hurts to look at the top of the skyscraper, the many windows reflecting the bright sunlight into your eyes and blinding your vision. If there was any place where you could find Taehyung, it would be here.    It’s his dream job. What he had wanted for so long and legitimately cried when he found out he got a position at. You remember that day, how proud you felt of him for achieving such a goal.   But when you approach the receptionist at the lobby’s desk, her response only fires the confusion further.   “Sorry. We don’t have a Kim Taehyung working here. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”   You miss him. And you wonder at what point, he wasn’t a part of your life anymore.   //   In an attempt to find Taehyung, you contact your friends and work your way down your list of contacts on your phone. They’re happy to hear from you, some even knowing about your accident and asking if you’re alright.    But when you ask about Taehyung, they tell you that they haven’t spoken to him since the divorce. That they’ve lost contact. That the months leading up to it, the two of you were distant from them and they’re unsure of the reasons for what had happened. It was frankly unexpected.   “You always told me it wasn’t any of my business, dear,” your mother says over the phone. “You actually got quite upset when I asked, so after a while I didn’t anymore. Do you want to talk to your dad? He’s watching the news right now.”   “No.” You press your temples, holding in your sigh. “It’s fine.”   Frustration overwhelms you.    No matter where you turn, you can’t seem to get the reasons for yourself.   You can’t find him.   “Is the take out okay?”   At once, you’re snapped out of your thoughts and you lift your head to meet kind, cat-like eyes staring at you.    “It’s good,” you try to smile and nod.   He seems to sense how disconnected you are. “I’ll learn how to cook. I know you like carbonara, so maybe I can find a recipe this weekend and try to make it, so we don’t have to eat out all the time.”   You stare at the man across from you.   How tired he seems, his dark hair shagging in front of his forehead, his downcast head facing his food as his fork scrapes against the bottom container, never quite taking a full bite. Yet whenever your eyes meet, his plump lips always tugs into a small smile and his eyes crinkle.   “I’m sorry.”   Yoongi’s brows lift at the sudden apology. “What for?”   “For not remembering you.” Even if Min Yoongi is a stranger, you can feel how intimate the pair of you used to be by the photographs you’ve seen, by the way he still regards you. You feel guilty for not being able to return his affections.   “It’s fine. It’ll come back with time, right? Don’t stress out about it too much. It won’t do you any good.”   “Yoongi.” You have his attention by the way you say his name like he hasn’t heard it uttered from your lips in quite a while. “I went searching for my...ex-husband today.”   It’s foreign to call Taehyung that. It’s unsettling and makes you uncomfortable.   But your eyes never divert from Yoongi’s. “I need answers.”   “I know,” he murmurs in a low voice, still playing with his food. As intimidating as he might appear on the surface, you’re quickly learning how considerate and soft-spoken he really is. “And I want you too. I don’t want you to have any regrets. I want you to know you’ve made the right choice by being with me.”   Your heart squeezes at his thoughtful nature and you sigh lightly before stuffing your mouth with some of the noodles, trying to alleviate the tension. “You’re a good man, Yoongi.”   He chuckles, gummy smile emerging for the first time that you can recall. “Maybe that’s why you chose me in the first place.”   //   The avenue is nostalgic, a street that you and Taehyung spent many dates at with its cheap street food and cute stores. And when you were both working, it was the halfway point between your workplaces and where you’d meet to have lunch on those special occasions. A few things have altered from when you remembered them, the stationery shop closed and that ice-cream parlor changed into a pancake café instead. But for the most part, it remains the same.   You aren’t sure what you’re doing here.    Of all your ways and methods in searching for Taehyung, even you know that it’s unlikely you’ll find him on a Tuesday morning at such an obscure location. But it’s where you’re drawn too, where your body told you to go and your mind followed.   Otherwise, you’re not sure what to do anymore or how you should contact him. You wonder if it’s too drastic to drive hours away to visit his mom on the off chance that she’s still living in the same place after four years. If she moved, the journey would be for nothing. But even then, if you somehow found him and reached out, would he even be willing to talk to you?   A sigh escapes your parted lips. You tilt your head up to the sky, wondering where on earth he is. And in your reverie, you fail to notice the strapping brunette humming to the music he’s listening to. Not until your shoulder collides with his as he’s walking the opposite way.    But instead of an apology spilling from your mouth, you’re interrupted by a call of your name—   “Y/N?”   It's shock that has taken hold of his expression. His hand rips out his earphones and the loud music becomes silenced from his world. With the way he looks at you, it would be like he’s seen a ghost. A stranger from his past.    In your mind, it’s only been a week since you’ve seen him. And you’ve been missing him so much.   On sheer instinct, you wrap your hand around his wrist, afraid to let go. “Taehyung.”   //   It’s awkward, the stiff air almost suffocating your lungs. You’re sure that the first date wasn’t even as bad as this. But you don’t mind whatsoever, even if he’s shifting uncomfortably at the intent way you stare and how it makes him break out into a sweat. Even if Taehyung hates you now, as long as you can see him like this, it’s enough to bear.   Taehyung clears his throat, diverting his vision elsewhere. “So….you look like you’ve been well.”   “Not really,” you murmur.   Taehyung is still a man of intense habit. His drink order hasn’t changed, a cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings. At the same exact coffee shop since you were dating. And he’s taken the same table in the corner of the shop too, the spot of your many study dates.    It’s these habits that have led you back to him.   “I heard you weren’t working at the engineering firm anymore,” you say after another tense pause.   Taehyung’s brows curiously raise. “I haven’t been working there in years. You knew about it.”   “Did I?”   He’s wary that you can’t recall. “Yeah….”   “What are you doing now?”   “I’m in animation.”   Your eyes widen, surprised. “I never knew you could animate— well, I knew you could draw, but you never even watched much animation.”   Taehyung shrugs. “It’s a good fit. I didn’t know I’d like it either until I tried.”   Your expression softens, a tender smile pulling into your cheeks. Taehyung’s gotten older but in a refined way. His hair is back to its natural colour, a few wrinkles set into his skin but his features are sharper and less rounded and boyish. He seems less mischievous and irresponsible too, a little more mature and quiet. Or maybe he’s reserved because you’re his ex-wife.    The thought makes you nauseous.   He sips his drink. “So...what have you been doing?”    “Not great. I recently got into an accident, Taehyung.” That seems to grab his attention and his eyes become rounded while you brace yourself. “Apparently I fell down a flight of stairs at the subway station and I was in a coma for three days.”   “Oh shit. That...must’ve sucked. I...I’m sorry to hear that.”    “I’m fine now.” You pause, clear your throat. “But the last thing I remember is us, Taehyung. We were planning to spend the night at the new house and we got hit by that car…”   “I remember.” He nods slowly and murmurs, “But the accident wasn’t that bad, Y/N. We were only bumped.”   “I don’t remember that,” you tell, earnest eyes connected with his that makes him believe you. Even after all this time apart, Taehyung can still tell when you’re lying and telling the truth.    Your voice raises in pitch, in frustration and exasperation. “And...and I’m trying to understand how this happened. I’m trying to understand how we…..how we ended up divorced.”   Taehyung’s brows furrow and he fiddles with the paper cup. “What’s there to tell? We fell out of love.”   “That doesn’t make any sense!” Your shrill voice garners the attention of other patrons, but you don’t pay mind to them. “We got married and were planning to have kids and we just built a house in a new neighbourhood—”   “We lost that house.”   Taehyung doesn’t look at you. His downcast head allows his eyes to stay on the floor. He looks small — shoulders slugging and frame slumped.   “I lost my job and then we lost the house. It went downhill from there and one day, you couldn’t do it anymore and packed your bags. You were the one who divorced me, Y/N.”   You’re stunned, unable to get a single word out at the revelation he’s given you. An answer to your questions that you had never expected. That you didn’t want to hear.   Taehyung’s eyes are saddened and he never once meets your gaze. “You’ll remember sooner or later. I’m sorry this happened to you, Y/N. I really am. But it was still nice to see you.”   He gets up before you can protest, leaving as fast as he came into your life again.   //   Yoongi arrives home visibly tired, his hair in a disarray and his navy workwear stained with oil and grease. Still, he greets you with a warm, sleepy smile that you still aren’t used to.   “I saw my ex today,” you tell him during dinner, breaking the silence by deciding to be open and honest. It at least alleviates some of the guilt weighing on your chest. “I found him coincidentally.”   Yoongi’s eyes flicker up, peeking at you. “How did it go?”   “It didn’t help. I’m still confused.” You can’t understand why you would ever leave him, even if you lost the house and he lost his job. It didn’t make any sense. “Do you know anything about the divorce, Yoongi? Did I….ever tell you anything?”   “You told me that he was pathetic,” he informs but without any malice like he’s simply stating facts. “He was unemployed for two years and didn’t get off his ass to find a job. Hey, your words, not mine.”   The corner of your mouth curls even when you’re still stupefied.   “Are you alright, Y/N?”   An exhale leaves your lips. “I’m not sure.”   That night, you find another box in the closet while alone in the bedroom. There are pictures of you and Taehyung from when you were younger and just friends, small mementos like movie tickets and keychains won at arcades while you were dating, and photographs of the wedding day, the two of you with enormous smiles and swollen cheeks.   But they’re buried underneath your belongings with Yoongi.   //   His expression is one of repulsion, like he bit into a lemon or something bitter. But you don’t pay any attention to it.   “What are you doing here?” Taehyung is incredulous to see you in the morning, standing in the same café as if you own the place.   “I’ve been waiting since eight,” you complain and he repeats his question with increasing skepticism. You suppose it’s not everyday your ex-wife is waiting to run into you, so you don’t blame him for his apprehension. “I’m trying to understand how the two of us got divorced. I know this is probably really weird since for you, I’ve shown out of nowhere after two years.”   “You think?”   You ignore his playful quip. “But for me, my last memory is still going on that date night and getting into that car accident.”   Before Taehyung can utter a word, the barista is calling him as the next person in line. “Can I get—”   A cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings.   “A cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings,” he says without missing a beat and your mouth tugs into a smile. Lots of things may have changed in the time that you no longer remember, but the fact of how constant he is comforts you greatly.    You wait with Taehyung at the counter, feeling his eyes glancing at you every so often. When your eyes meet, he realizes he’s been caught staring.    “Once I remember again and make sense of the situation, I’ll leave you alone,” you say even if it hurts, but the last thing you want is to be burdensome to Taehyung. “I just want to understand and get over it and move on like you have.”   Taehyung sighs, never saying a word.   He picks up his drink and you follow along with him, quietly as to not disrupt the comfortable silence between the both of you.   He walks down the street and enters the modest grocery store, beelining to the deli to pick up a ham sub. But he notices your quirked brow. “What?”   “No.” You shake your head. “Just reminds me of uni. You used to eat those too. Same brand and everything.”   The man scoffs lightly, but he knows. You’ve pointed it out to him many times in the past that he has a tendency to stick to specific habits — the odd quirks that you once said you loved about him.    “Like what?” he had once asked when you mentioned it.   “Like you always put your beverages on your left side and you chug half a glass of water before going to bed and you always close the entire toilet when you’re done going to the bathroom and you have the same brand of cereal every morning and after you sneeze, you always scratch your nose every time,” you had said in the midst of giggles and then lifted yourself up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry. They’re cute and it’s part of why I love you.”   The two of you walk together down the street. The early morning air is crisp and chilly, slightly nipping at his nose. He grips his drink still steaming to warm his hand and Taehyung can’t help stealing a glance at you, wondering if you’re cold too.   “How’d you get started into animation?”   “Huh? Oh. Well, if you really want to know then after you packed your bags and dumped me, it was a pretty good wake up call.” Taehyung laughs as if he’s recalling a funny memory, but then his expression softens, touched with sorrow. “I decided to get myself picked back up and get a job. They liked my personality enough at the interview to give me a chance. At first I didn’t know what I was doing, but I learned and I like it a lot.”   He turns his head when your silence is prolonged.    But his eyes widen when he finds your tender smile. “I’m happy for you, Taehyung.”   And you really are — even in spite of him not technically being a part of your life anymore.   //   The next day, Taehyung is not any more impressed to see you there at the café.    You enthusiastically smile and wave at him. And when the barista calls the two of you in the line, you have no hesitation. “Can I get a cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings? And just an iced americano for me.”   Taehyung eyes you when you pay and stroll to the other counter to wait. “Don’t you have a job to go to?”   “I’m still technically in recovery and it’s not like I can work if my head’s a mess.”   Taehyung scoffs lightly. “What do you want to know this time?”   He can tell by the look in your eye that there are questions on the tip of your tongue. And when you take out a whole laundry list like it’s things you need to buy at a grocery store, a rectangular grin plasters on his face. Taehyung wouldn’t expect any less of you.    “Hey, I was thinking about it all night, alright? I was afraid I was going to forget so I wrote it down.”   He leans over to look at the list but you move away. “Don’t peek.”   “Okay, okay.” He laughs and gestures for you to start.   “First question. What did I say before I left?” You look at him, eyes meeting his. “What were my exact reasons for the divorce?”   He hums a low note, staring off into the distance. “I don’t remember well. You called me a motherfucker though,” Taehyung chuckles and becomes solemn. “Probably something along the lines that I’ve stopped trying and that you were leaving. There was a lot of crying and screaming. I…..don’t really like to think about it.”   There’s a pause and you clear your throat, paper in your hand crinkling and forgotten.   “Why didn’t you ever do anything to stop it?”   A sigh leaves his lips and he runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m an idiot. But it’s not like I could’ve forced you to stay with me.”   “I’m sure if you had said something, I would’ve stayed.”   Taehyung’s smile is meek and sad, not at all like how it usually is. You wonder just how much you hurt him, how much you hurt each other. “A lot can happen in two years, Y/N.”   A lot can happen in the two years they were apart too.   “Have you been seeing anyone?”   “No. I haven’t,” he says.    It’s a question that tumbled out of you, one not on the list.   //   The evening comes and you hear the front door open and shut. Immediately, you call out from the kitchen, “Hey!”   Yoongi emerges from the hall with another tired smile. “Hey.”   “I got takeout for us,” you say while heating said food up. “How was work? Busy again?”   “A little.” The man comes closer to see what you’ve bought but before he’s able to assess, he mindlessly leans in and plants a soft kiss against your cheek. You instantaneously freeze, the muscles in your body becoming rigid and tense, and Yoongi realizes. “I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit.”   He pulls away, disheartened and guilt wells up in your throat. “It’s okay.”   Yoongi nods and he shrugs off his coat, walking back towards the hall to hang it up, but you stop him before your conscience can berate you, before you hurt him further—   “I saw him again. This morning.”   He halts. He stands still as you watch his backside.   The both of you know who you’re referring to.   “How was it?” Yoongi inquires hesitantly as if he’s not sure if he even should.    “It was good,” you murmur. “I got a few more answers.”   His head turns, the black strands of his hair sweeping against his forehead. Yoongi’s gentle eyes are glossed over, his tone low and husky as he quietly asks, “Can’t you get answers without seeing him?”   “I…..I’m sorry, Yoongi.”   You divert your vision, but from the corner, you can see the way his mouth curls gingerly.   “It’s okay.”   But you know that it isn’t. It’s unfair to him to wait for your memories to return, for you to continuously see someone of your past as he waits for you to come to love him as you once did.   The man retreats into the darkness and you feel guilt overwhelm you.   //   When Taehyung wakes up, does his daily routine and heads to the café, he opens the door and expects to see you. Standing there, waiting for him as if you were the owner or a barista working full time.   “Are you sure you’re not healthy enough to go back to work?” He grins, brows lifted and almost impressed at how adamant you are.   “No.” You loll your head to the side. “I’m still feeling tired.”   Taehyung scoffs lightly, noting that you always show up earlier than he does. “Tired, huh?”   “You must be tired too. Your shirt is inside out.”   “What?” His line of sight follows to where you’re pointing and Taehyung looks down to see that his shirt is indeed inside out. He groans in embarrassment as you laugh.   “Did you not notice?”   He doesn’t answer, grabbing his drink from the counter once the barista calls his name and he books it out of the shop. But not without you following behind him and still giggling.   “Are you sulking?” You quickly catch up to him and quirk your head almost to his shoulder. “I’m just teasing, Tae. It’s not that noticeable.”   “You noticed it.”   “Well I’ve always noticed everything about you.”   He clicks his tongue in feigned annoyance and stops, making you halt on your heels. “Don’t flirt with me, woman. Didn’t you say you were seeing someone?”   You scoff, continuing to walk and this time, he’s the one who follows after you. “Who says I’m flirting with you? I think you’re terribly mistaken and quite frankly, full of yourself.”   Taehyung grins. “It’s not my fault I was born this handsome and have so many people regularly flirting with me.”   “Uh-huh. You’re beginning to sound like Seokjin.”   “He’s not half as handsome as I am.”   You burst out laughing, knowing that your old friend would probably throw a fit if Taehyung openly fought him for the position of most handsome in your group of friends. “I beg to differ.”   “Then why didn’t you marry him back then?”   “Should’ve,” you sing-song much to Taehyung’s chagrin.   The pair of you stop in front of his building, the destination of every morning journey. You know this is where you’ll have to leave him off and see him again tomorrow, wait for just these ten minutes of conversations and banter. But unusually, Taehyung doesn’t bid you farewell right away. He doesn’t run away with his tail in between his legs, shooting you a playful glare over his shoulder.   Instead, he stops with you and smiles. Taehyung lingers on the sidewalk with you.   “Y/N…” He gazes at you.   Your eyes connect with his warm irises and something lodges in your throat, an emotion that only seems to come with him. “Hmm?”   There’s held silence—   “There’s a bug in your hair.”   “What?!”   His palm slaps your forehead before you can flail, not enough for it to hurt, but enough that you’re stunned. You lift your hand to rub the spot and at the same time, a rectangular grin spreads into his face. Taehyung laughs childishly. “Kidding.”   “Are you five years old?!” you shout but it only eggs him on more.   “Sorry, sorry.” He bats your hand away and his fingers come to rub the spot for you instead. “I’m pretty sure it was your face cream and not a bug.”   The proximity is closed. You can feel his breath against your face, count his thick lashes, draw constellations through the tiny freckles around his nose.   You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks and Taehyung catches it. For a moment, his eyes linger against your lips and yours follows down to the dip of his cupid’s bow to the corner of his mouth. There’s a thick tension between the two of you, a kind of intimacy not found between a pair of old friends on a normal morning. It’s a kind of longing that you recognize in Taehyung’s gaze as it’s similar to your own…   You lean in to close the distance completely. But then Taehyung abruptly pulls away.   His vision is diverted to the ground.   All traces of mischief are gone. His mouth has fallen into a straight line, brows knitted together as if he’s in physical pain. “What are we doing, Y/N?”   He doesn’t wait for a response. Taehyung turns and walks away while the knots in your chest constrict you. But you run after him. You take three strides before he can vanish from your life — like what you found when you woke up in that hospital bed. The thought of that returning is terrifying.   “Taehyung!”   “No!” He turns around to face you, shutting you down before the way you call his name can affect him. You’re taken aback by the hurt etched on his expression. “It took me two years to get over you and even now I’m still not over you,” he declares angrily and your eyes widen. “And then you come out of nowhere to make a mess out of my head, playing these games.”   Your brows furrow, upset at his accusations and you shout back at him, “What games?!”   “I know that the moment you remember again, the moment you get over your stupid fucking amnesia, you’re going to dump me!” Taehyung swallows hard. “You’re going to make me go through all of that again. It’s downright cruel, you dense woman!”   “Don’t call me dense!” Without conscious decision, tears begin to shed down your face and you shake your head. “You know that that isn’t my intention.”   “I know.” Taehyung sighs. “But it’s going to happen anyway.”   The pair of you look at one another and then the doors to the building open. A tall man with dimples comes out and is absolutely bewildered at the ruckus. He’s seemingly familiar with Taehyung, perhaps a colleague of his. “Is something wrong, dude?”   “It’s fine.”   “Who’s this?” the stranger asks curiously, smiling at you.   “She’s my ex-wife.”   The man is caught off guard, eyes becoming rounded. “I didn’t know you were married.”   “Yeah, well, I used to be.” Taehyung peeks at you in a silent farewell and you watch his backside leave.

When Taehyung wakes up, does his daily routine and heads to the café, he opens the door and then his breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t know why disappointment seems to overwhelm him when you’re not there and he wonders since when he expected you to be in the first place — standing there, waiting for him.   He stands in line by himself. Makes his order by himself. Picks up his lunch by himself.    Taehyung walks to work alone.   And every so often, he unconsciously glances to his side and then sighs when he catches himself. He’s not sure why he keeps anticipating you to be with him. Why he allows himself to feel frustrated when he remembers you’re not here.   You’ve become Taehyung’s habit.   And now you’re gone.

There’s a timid knock at the door.   A moment later, it cracks open. “Hey, dinner is ready….” Yoongi’s puzzled to find you standing on a stool, reaching to the top of your closet but he smiles, glad to see you lively again. “What are you doing? Do you need help?”   “It’s okay.” You grab the album you were reaching for and wipe off the layer of dust that covers it. “I just remembered I kept old albums up here. Jeez, it’s so dusty.”   Yoongi’s brow lifts. “You remember?”   You nod, smiling at him. “I do.”   The album is flipped open and you step off the stool to sit on the edge of your bed. Yoongi watches you for a moment and exhales softly. “Well, I’ll leave your food on the table.”   You thank him and he takes his leave, shutting the door.   You guess no matter how bad your relationship with Taehyung got, you never had the heart to throw away or burn the photographs. And you’re glad. The photographs of your wedding day are still in tip-top shape, images showing the pair of you glowing in the sunset with his arms wrapped around you. You remember that wedding dress and that suit of his that had to be tailored twice. You remember being late to the ceremony and having to run with Taehyung who snuck out to see you beforehand even though he wasn’t supposed to...…   There are also photographs of your honeymoon, a vacation to the Caribbean, and another trip of Europe that you went on during your university days. But above all, there are photos of the pair of you in front of the newly built house. Proud and ecstatic. The seashell white home with the dark brown roof and large windows and skylights standing tall behind you two. Ready to house your future.   Some things change but these memories won’t.   //   The sprinklers spritzes across the freshly mowed lawn, a sputtering hiss that leaves a mist in the air. You step up the stone path to the cherry wood door, noticing the golden nameplate under the mailbox, but you don’t dwell. In your haze, your closed fist comes to steadily knock at the door.   It swings open.   Inside, you find someone with warm eyes, brunette hair and a boxy smile. He encapsulates the sunlight itself, so bright that it’s hard to discern who exactly it is. But you feel like you know. Like you had known before you even knocked and the door opened.   The man calls your name.   And you’re shaken awake from the beautiful dream. And you wake to an empty bedside, tears welling up in your eyes. It’s the middle of the night, darkness surrounding you and weighing heavily against your body. But you fight against it and rip the covers off of your body, grabbing a cardigan off your chair and rushing down the hall.   Yoongi is stirred from the noise and gets up from the couch.    “Where are you going?” he asks in a husky voice, running a hand through his hair that’s sticking in all directions. But the sleepiness leaves the man as he watches you shake your head, struggling to put on your shoes with tears in your eyes.   “I-I need to go, Yoongi.”   But for the first time, he reaches out.    Yoongi’s hand clasps around your wrist to stop you, having an inkling that you might never return. “I won’t let you.” His foot is finally placed down, but the decision has long been made.   “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”   “Don’t say that,” he desperately pleads.   “But I am. It’s unfair to you. That I’ve treated you this badly while all you’ve ever been is patient and considerate and understanding. But I don’t want you to wait for me anymore.”   “You’re not going back to your asshole of an ex-husband. He was horrible to you.”   “Yoongi, what do you expect me to do?” It’s a genuine question that you ask. You’re at a loss and the words choke out of you, but you had these feelings the moment you had awoken in that hospital bed. “I love him.”   The pause draws on and you lower your gaze.   “It’s not fair for you to wait for me to love you instead. I’m in love with Taehyung.”   Yet in spite of your words, Yoongi still pulls you into him. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight as if you might vanish between his fingertips. You come to realize that you never gave Yoongi a chance to express his love to you — you never kissed him or held him despite how long he waited.   You feel him tremble against you. The man who you had woken to presses his face to your shoulder, his quiet tears staining your thin clothing. You return his hug, arms lifted around his torso and grasping him close. You remember who he is. You know well.   He’s Min Yoongi, the man who you loved.   After a moment, he releases you. “Go.”   You nod. “I’ll always be thankful to you, Yoongi. More than you’ll realize.”   //   The car door slams shut.   You cross the street, approaching the house that still stands tall on the quiet suburban street illuminated by lamp posts. You’re not sure what you’re doing here at this time of night and you know you’ll just be disheartened when you see another family inside, living in the space that was meant for you and Taehyung. But you needed to see it.   It’s your home. What you made with Taehyung. Physical proof of your planned devotion to one another.   The house is dark and you assume that the people inside are long asleep. So you take a moment to gaze at it, heart aching inside your chest, and after ten minutes, you turn to walk away and leave your home behind. But then a car drives down the road. It’s a modest vehicle and as you wait for it to pass to cross the street, it instead pulls into the driveway of the house.   The headlights turn off. The engine dies. The car door opens.   And you freeze, watching the person emerge.   “Taehyung?!”   The strapping brunette man is unmistakable. He’s dressed in his work clothes, casual sweater and black trousers, his leather crossbody bag slung across his torso. He looks tired from what you can see with the glow of the many street lights, his hair messy and eyes weary. But he still has the energy to be shocked at your sudden presence.    Shocked as if he’s been caught in the act. “What are you doing here?”   You speak on an exhale. “Y-You bought the house back again?”   He bought it after the two of you lost it. Even when there’s no reason to.   Not unless it still holds sentimental value. Not unless the memories held in there were ones he still cherishes. Not unless he still loves you.   Taehyung murmurs your name, “Y/N…”   You run to him, closing the distance, throwing your arms around his neck. And you kiss the silly man breathlessly, pressing your mouth against his and swallowing the groan that leaves his lungs. His arms wrap around your back, holding you close and quickly reciprocating. His head tilts and his tongue slips into your mouth, drawing noises out of you like when you were young and still exploring one another.   But it’s a kiss of sadness and longing — yet still sweet even after so much time has passed.   After a handful of seconds, Taehyung pulls away.   “W-What are we doing?” He shakes his head, letting go of you.   But you grab hold of his hand. “I still love you, Taehyung. I love you.”   His earnest eyes search yours. “How….how do I know you won’t just remember why you wanted to leave me. How do I know it won’t happen all over again? We’re still the same people, Y/N. It didn’t work once.”    “I don’t care,” you spit at him desperately. “To me, it feels like it was until yesterday that we were still married and in love. And right now, right now I still love you, Taehyung. I miss you. I don’t care what happened, that you lost your job, lost the house and started to feel bad about yourself and gave up on us.”    Taehyung’s eyes are rounded and his lips part. “You….remember?”   You nod. “I have gradually for a while now.”   Bits and pieces had fallen together the longer you spent with him, the more you looked at pictures and mementos, and searched your memories. They were loose puzzle pieces, moments of time, until you fit them together to create a whole picture. To finally understand why things happened the way they did.   And you can finally recall the downward spiral of Taehyung all those years ago. How he abruptly got laid off, losing his dream job that he had worked so hard to obtain, how the two of you lost the house when your sole income was no longer enough and how depressed he became about losing that home. How he sat at his desk for two years in the dark, playing games and wasting time, giving up on searching for a job and refusing to get himself help in his poor mental state.   You remember how he ignored you until you felt like his mother and couldn’t take it anymore. How he pushed your sanity enough that you had to walk away before you were damaged.    But in spite of all that has happened…   “I still love you.”   He’s an absolute shit, but you love him.   Without being able to blink, Taehyung tugs you in by your waist and he presses his lips against yours, holding you close to him. You smile against his mouth before your hands lift to cup his cheeks, cradling his face as he deepens the kiss. It’s desperate, hungering to make up for lost time, fulfilling the yearning that has dwelled between the pair of you each time you spoke.   Taehyung kisses you like he’s missed you more and the pair of you barely manage to break apart to stumble into the house.   “I can’t believe you bought this place back.” It’s a whirlwind, nostalgia slamming into you as you step into the foyer. You’re overwhelmed with emotion, feeling a staggering urge to start crying.   “Had to do a lot of negotiating, but I did it,” he murmurs proudly, happy to show you how he’s picked himself up, how he found another passion and followed the path, that he’s no longer so pathetic. “All on my own too.”   “Taehyung…”   He kisses you again, less gentle than before. He’s merciless, hands placed on your hips and your back arches into him until the force of his body causes the two of you to fall backwards onto the floor. Taehyung catches your head so that it never hurts and he hovers over you, leg between your knees while he peels off his coat.    “I’m sorry,” he says softly, gazing into your eyes. “I never got to tell you that. I’m sorry for hurting you.”   You nod, grasping at his forearms that’s next to your head and he takes the opportunity to lean down. Taehyung lay pecks against your cheek until he moves his way down to suck bruising kisses into your neck. You cry his name, writhing against him as he palms your breast and leaves his marks all over you.   Taehyung eats you out on the cool tiled floors of the foyer entrance, filling the house with obscene sounds that make you embarrassed. But you can’t complain, not when you’re sobbing his name and your fingers are sinking into his hair.   You end up cumming all over his swollen lips and chin, and you bat at him when he grins and says it’s delicious. Before Taehyung can completely ruin the mood, you grab him and with little warning, his cock sinks into your cunt, head poking right at the entrance of your cervix. You feel full and he begins to pound into you, satisfying that itch you’ve had for so long.   Taehyung makes you look at him the entire time and as you hold him, it hits you just how much you missed him. Tears leak from your eyes and it only eggs him on to be rougher. His fingers sink into the meat of your thigh and his mouth leaves hickeys down the valley of your breasts to admire later. You cum again and then he presses his pelvis into yours and cums in you as well, painting your walls in white.   Despite being sweaty and sticky, Taehyung kisses you again and the two of you hold one another. He’s sweet and affectionate until he starts to push his cum back into you with his fingers when you begin to leak.   “Now you’re not even trying to hide the fact you want me to get pregnant.”   The man mischievously grins. “Last I checked, it was yesterday that we wanted kids.”   You burst out laughing, unable to argue with that but…. “We’re not even married anymore. What would your mom think?”   “She would probably cry tears of happiness if she knew we were together again. And marriage…” He interlaces his hands with yours. “We could make it happen again. If you want.”   You nod. “I do.”

It’s another chance. Another do over.   You wonder if you had never lost your memories and tried to chase them down, if you would’ve ever reached out to Taehyung again and reignite the spark between the two of you. Had you not found him again, you wonder if you would’ve known that he’s picked himself again and returned to the man you fell in love with. It’s hard to say but those things are yesterday’s problems.   Today, you look towards the future.   “Wake up, sleepy head.”   On any other day, you might kick him in the knee for waking you up on a weekend, but it’s been so long that you don’t mind whatsoever. Taehyung’s mischief is world’s better than waking up to an empty bedside or to someone you can’t genuinely love as much.   “Ugh.” You open your eyes and immediately slap a palm against his mouth. “Don’t kiss me. Morning breath.”   Taehyung peels your hand off, grins and smooches you anyway. You laugh and quickly reciprocate.   When it’s all done and over, he snuggles into you. “You know…” You’re wrapped in each other’s arms and you slowly blink awake, glad that you’ve finally woken up with him beside you. “...those brown walls in this room are going to have to change.”   Taehyung laughs. “Happily.”   There’s nothing been more certain of. You want to spend tomorrow with Taehyung and the day after that and the day after that.   Until eternity.

[anightflower]

One Night Stand

Summary: After a shitty one night stand, Bucky slut shames your sex life. You get a little revenge by playing a game Bucky doesn’t like. 

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY: S M U T 

You grumbled as you made your way down to the Towers main kitchen. Your body ached, you were exhausted, and all you wanted was a cup or coffee and some goddamn peace and quiet.

You internally groaned when you noticed that the kitchen was not empty. Bucky and Sam sat at the breakfast bar. One drowsily eating cereal, while the other attempted to flick runaway cereal pieces at the other. Natasha sat perched next to the coffee machine, scrolling through her phone and sipping from a mug of coffee.

Natasha's eyes left her phone and lit up as she focused on you. “You look tired (Y/N)” she snickered. “Did you have a late night last night?” 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Bucky and Sam focus on you.

You glared at Nat as you made your way to the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup of coffee. 

Don’t even start. “I don’t know what makes you say that Nat.” You said irritated.

“Well for one you look like hell, and two I don’t think you’re supposed to put salt in your coffee. Unless you really prefer it that way.” Sam piped up with a shiteating grin. 

“Oh hell.” You hissed, tossing your salty coffee down the sink. 

Natasha made her way over to you with a fresh mug of coffee. “So tell me, was he good?” 

You nearly dropped the cup she handed to you. “NAT!” 

“Oh please. I saw you sneak out last night like a horny teenager. You’re an adult now, you can talk about sex. Unless the boys can't handle it.” She raised a brow at Sam and Bucky who pretended not to listen. 

Sam smirked into his coffee. Bucky remained stone-faced, glaring slightly at Natasha. 

“I for one, don’t need to hear the details of another one of your slinky one night stands doll.” Bucky grumbled angrily, pushing his stool back from the counter. 

“Slinky one night stands? Are you fucking kidding me Buck? Sorry I am a grown woman looking for quality sex that I clearly can’t find here!” You growled. 

Bucky eyes burned with anger. He looked like he was about to say something but all he did was huff and leave the room. 

“Sam maybe it’s time you got Bucky laid.” Nat observed, “He seems to always have a stick far up his ass.”

“Trust me, it’s not all it's cracked up to be.” You mumbled, stirring more creamer into your coffee. 

“Was it really that bad?”  Nat asked. 

“Oh, the guy wasn’t bad, he was horrific. Only cared about himself. I may as well have stayed home and used a toy for hell’s sake. 

Sam winced. “I did not need to know you had sex toys.” 

“Oh grow up Sam, it’s not a woman’s fault that men don’t know what they’re doing. Men are the problem, sex toys are the solution.” 

“Well, who knows (Y/N), maybe you'll meet a special someone at Stark’s Charity Gala Saturday.” Nat said wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“Fuck, I forgot that was this weekend. I’m all for charity, but if I’m forced to go to another one of Stark’s fucking parties-” You groaned. 

“Uhem” You heard a familiar voice sound from the door. “First off you love my parties, even if it’s deep down. Second, you always look ravishing in whatever you wear, and lastly, you get all the free alcohol you want. All you have to do is force a smile and be friendly.” Tony hummed.

You rolled your eyes as you pushed past him, careful not to spill your coffee. If Saturday you had to be a social butterfly, today would be a lock yourself in your room and watch Netflix kinda day.

____________________________________________________________________________

“Tony was right, you do always manage to look ravishing. Very Bond-esque” Sam said to you as he entered your room. 

You smiled at him through your reflection, admiring the slimming black dress you had on. “Thanks Sam. Have you come to be my handsome escort?” 

He held a hand out to you,  “Bond, James Bond, happily at your service.

His other hand produced a bottle of expensive liquor from behind his back, a liquor that was most likely stolen from Tony’s “hidden” cabinet. “I have also come to get you throughly wasted before this party. Bucky’s in a bitchy mood and Steve’s very busy trying to untie Bucky’s panties.” 

“In that case, pour us some drinks, it’s going to be a long night if we have to deal with not one, but two grouchy old men.” 

__________________________________________________________________________

You could have sworn this party was more extravagant than the last. The room shone with several different lights, giving it an ethereal glow. Champagne fountains stood about the room. It was like walking into a Great Gatsby fantasy.

Bucky and Steve were already at the bar, causing your joy to deflate a bit. You had avoided Bucky at every cost since the two of you had fought. He hadn’t sought you out to apologize either.

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “I hope the bar has enough of the strong stuff, otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to deal with Bucky’s bitchiness all night, even with the alcohol we had before this in my system.” 

Sam snickered. “He still hasn’t apologized has he?” 

“Nope. So he’s definitely on my shit list. He had no reason to be angry with me or shame my sex life.” 

Sam looked like he was about to say something, but stopped himself. He shook his head. “Just ignore him (Y/N). Bucky will be Bucky. Besides if you really feel like enacting revenge I know a little game you can play to piss him off even more.”

You groaned. “Sam as much as I would love to piss Bucky off more, I am not in the mood to play 'One Night Rate’ right now. This last guy really put me off for a while.” 

“Oh come on (Y/N)! One guy can’t ruin your chances of a great one night stand. Look at all the beautiful people here.” He said gesturing around the room. “You’re telling me there isn’t a single guy you want to take home?” 

There was one guy you wanted to take home, but he currently was the one person who you weren’t speaking to. You knew you would probably regret this but-

“Fine.” You groaned. “I’ll play, but that doesn’t mean I have to follow through with it.” 

Sam grinned as you two made your way over to Bucky and Steve.

Steve smiled at the two of you, but it quickly turned into a suspicious look at the grin on Sam’s face.  “What are you two up to?” 

You and Sam remained quiet smirking at one another. Steve finally put the pieces together. 

“You two are not playing One Night Rate again are you?” He groaned.  

“Listen man, (Y/N) needs a better partner to make up for the last guy. The least I can do is support her and give good advice.” Sam said, as you blushed. 

“You’re the one who convinced me to do it! I wasn’t even going to play it.” You laughed, nudging Sam’s shoulder. 

Bucky stared at the three of you stone faced. “Do I even want to know what this game is?” 

You gave Bucky a sarcastic smirk. “It’s a game Sam, Steve, and I came up with one night at one of Tony’s galas-” 

“It was mostly Sam and (Y/N).” Steve interjected. 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure it was Golden Boy.” Sam snickered. “Anyway, we were bored and perhaps a bit more intoxicated than we should have been-” 

“Excuses, excuses.” Sam interrupted you. “You are avoiding the point. It’s basically a game where one of us chooses a person and the jury,” he gestured to you and Steve, “Comes to a consensus on whether or not that person should be brought home or not.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Are you guys serious?” 

“If you’re going to slut shame, you can always hang with Nat, I’m sure she’s drunk enough to put up with your assholery. Besides, you wouldn’t want to play such a sleazy game right?” You said, plastering a fake smile on your face. 

Bucky winced. “(Y/N)-”

You held up a hand, stopping him. “I don’t want to hear it right now James.” You only called him by his first name when you were really pissed with him. “Right now, I want to drink, find a guy, and get an actual good fuck. So if you’ll excuse me.” You pushed past the three men, ignoring their shocked faces and Bucky’s very pissed one.

Sam grimaced. “So much for playing the game. Something tells me she’ll follow her own rules right now.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Sam had remained at the bar with Bucky and Steve, long after you left them. Bucky’s face was steely, his eyes following every move you made on the dance floor. You weren’t alone, and of course the guy you had chosen was incredibly handsy with you. As his hands slide down your body, Bucky couldn't help but let out a growl.

“Buck, I don’t get it. Why won’t you just apologize and tell her how you feel? You’re being idiotic.” Steve said gently, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Sam nodded along with Steve’s sentiment. “Dude maybe if you opened your eyes you’d see that she actually likes you back.” 

Bucky’s eyes shot to Sam. “What the hell did you say Wilson?”

Sam gave him a look. “Don’t play dumb with me Barnes, you heard what I said. She likes you. I’m surprised that such a good assassin like you could miss something as blatant as that.” 

“Then why the hell does she go off with other guys then?” Bucky asked, irritated.

“Because she’s just as blind to it as you. You have no idea how obnoxious it is to be the middleman and keep quiet, especially when you’re dealing with two oblivious morons.” Sam groaned. Steve cackled loudly.

“What am I supposed to do? She’s off with some other guy.” Bucky sighed. 

Steve smirked at him, “That never stopped you in the 40’s.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

This guy was doing nothing for you. He was sweaty, way too handsy, and was unfortunately not as attractive up close, a drunken mistake on your part. But you knew Bucky was watching and you would not cave easily, so you kept dancing. 

The guy pulled you taut against him. “So babe when do you want to get out of here?” 

You grimaced, resisting the urge to push the guy off you. Was pissing Bucky off really worth all this?

“I think I can take it from here bud.” A familiar voice said. It sent chills down your spine. Your date, what was his name? Jake? Jason? You couldn't even remember, that’s how uninteresting he was. 

He turned to Bucky releasing his grip on you. “Back off dude, she’s taken.” 

Bucky glared at him unmoving. “I think you misunderstood me asshole. Fuck off.” The dance floor lights flashed over Bucky’s face giving sweaty hands a better look at who he was talking to. 

His face paled. “Oh shit I’m so sorry man, she’s all yours.” He quickly pushed through the crowd on the dance floor to get away. 

You turned to Bucky and crossed your arms. “Are you fucking kidding me James?  First, you call me sleazy and now you chase off any fucking guy I am interested in? What is wrong with y-” 

Your rant was cut off as Bucky dragged you off the dance floor and through a maze of halls. You were too shocked to say anything as he pushed you into the fancy one stall bathroom and locked the door. 

You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t just scare my date off then drag me into a bathroom.”

“Oh please, that guy was a scumbag, you could do much better.” Bucky snarled.  

He turned his back on you and let out a frustrated growl, running his hands through his hair. 

“You weren’t even playing the game right.” He said quietly. 

“What?” 

He turned back to you and moved toward you, causing you to back up until you hit the sink counter. His arms pinned down on either side of you and he leaned in. There were mere inches between both of your lips. 

“I said you weren’t even playing the game right. You’re supposed to consult Sam and Steve and come to a consensus. You just picked a random asshole to piss me off. I at least played the game right.” He growled.

You heart was in your throat. You thought of what to say to defend your choices, then you realized what Bucky said. “Wait what do you mean you’re playing the game right?”

Bucky smirked. “The jury came to a consensus. You’re the best choice to take home tonight. You got the highest rating (Y/N).” His smile turned more sincere. “I want to take you home tonight and every night if you’ll let me. I know I’ve been an ass to you and I’m sorry. I was just so pissed that other guys got to have you while I couldn’t. And-”

You grabbed Bucky by his shirt collar and pulled him in, smashing your lips against his. A growl emanated from his throat as he wrapped his arms around you. Causing both of you to go into a frenzy. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he lifted you up and placed you on the bathroom counter. You whined as Bucky placed kisses all down your neck. He sucked harshly in certain areas making you gasp. 

“If I can finally have you all to myself, I want to mark you as mine.” He mumbled against your neck. His words went straight to your soaking core. 

You began unbuttoning his shirt as he pushed up your dress. He pulled it over your head and  threw it behind him, pausing to admire you in your matching black lace set. You returned the favor and pushed off his suit jacket as he attempted to unbutton his shirt. You let out a moan when his chiseled body was finally fully in view.

Bucky pulled down your bra causing your breasts to be pushed up from the material. He purred as he leaned down and worshipped each one, placing kisses all over the top, then moving down and sucking on your nipple. His hand went to your other breast, his fingers massaging and playing with your other nipple. He tugged at it causing you to let out a loud moan. 

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cried out. He smirked as his hands and mouth traveled down your body. When he finally reached your panties, he looked you in the eye and slowly pulled them down with his teeth. 

You were speechless. 

“Fuck baby, just a few words and some teasing and you’re soaking for me,” He hissed out, his dick hardening as he gazed at your sexed out and wanton state. 

‘Bucky please.” You begged. Wanting, no, needing him to touch you. 

He smirked at you. “Oh I see now doll, when you want me to fuck you I’m Bucky, notJames?”

“James Buchanan Barnes, if you do not fuck me right now-” you growled. 

Bucky chuckled, lowering his mouth to where you needed it most. Your growl turned into a pleasurable scream. 

Bucky looked up at you, amusement in his eyes. He paused his work. “You know love, you’re lucky the music is so loud, otherwise you and I could be caught in this very scandalous position.”

You smirked and bit your lip. “Let them find us then.” 

With that Bucky feasted on you like you were his last meal. His tongue swirling over your clit and licking your slit until you felt that delicious build up in your stomach. Your hands grasped and pulled at his hair. 

“Bucky, don’t stop, I'm going to-” whiteness filled your vision as you came. You tried to close your legs, but Bucky had them pinned against the counter, continuing his work until you finished riding out your orgasm. 

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as Bucky kissed back up your body until he met your lips. 

You undid his belt and pants, letting his bulging member free. Bucky wasted no time lining himself up with your entrance. Sliding in slowly until he filled you completely. 

You gasped at the pleasure that filled your body. You had never felt so full in any other one night stand. Hell hardly any of them had made you come like this once, or at all. 

“God doll, you’re so tight.” Bucky groaned as he gave you time to adjust to his size. 

“Bucky if you don’t start moving-” you threatened, but were cut off as Bucky quickly thrust in and out of you.

He smirked as you let out a pleasured squeak. 

“Fuck you” you giggled. 

“Gladly.” He replied as he picked up his pace. 

It was relentless and god it was the greatest sex you had ever had. He had actually put your pleasure first, and was about to make you come again. 

The feeling built up in your stomach, and you clenched around Bucky. As if he could read your mind, he reached down and began rubbing your clit. You had to bite back a scream. 

Bucky smashed his lips against yours, as white flashed again in your vision, as your second orgasm hit you. Bucky followed soon after. 

When you both came down from your highs, your eyes met and you giggled. 

“What?” Bucky asked, returning your smile. 

“I swear this better be the last one night stand I ever had, because all I want for the rest of my life is you Bucky Barnes.” 

Bucky’s eyes softened and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Funny, because all I’ve ever wanted for the longest time, is you.” You felt your heart skip a beat. 

Bucky’s face turned more mischievous. “Now let’s get out of here. I have a long night planned to show you that you actually can find quality sex around here.” 

[professor-tetra]

[Deltarune Extra Bosses Theory and ending, chapters 1-7]

Hi everyone! My first post here. I wanted to share a quick theory about what to expect going forward in Deltarune, chapters 1-7. First off, we know that Deltarune is an alternate telling / reality of Undertale. That doesn’t play a huge part in this theory, but I just wanted to put a pin in that for future posts here. I suspect WD Gaster is pretty much behind everything, and our character creation at the start of Chapter 1 is the most important thing we’ve done so far because it fully acknowledges the player and their interaction with the world and Kris especially. But I am getting too much into this already. The Extra Bosses! Jevil, and now Spamton. There doesn’t seem to be an obvious connection between these two yet, but, consider this:

We are currently defeating extra bosses and collecting their dark crystal, as well as their special gear which depends on whether you’ve beaten them passively or killed them. We also in chapter 2 now recruit enemies we spare rather than kill.

This suggests a few things to me:

Everything is going to culminate at the festival / carnival. All the extra bosses are going to be attractions / things you would find at a carnival. So far, we have a Jester and a Puppet / Fortune Telling Machine (look up Zoltar, if you’ve never seen one before.) We are either going to be the PROTAGONIST or ANTAGONIST of the last chapter, which is the carnival that has the darkworld spilling into the Lighter’s world, just as we see at the end of chapter 2. Kris, whether he means to or not, likely manipulated by the face in the TV (who is maybe Gaster), is bringing the dark into our world and creating fountains, either for his own reasons (like Susie asking him if it wouldn’t be nice for the dark to come to their world, letting all the Darkners like Lancers and Ralsei in too -- it might not be malicious entirely.) Those that we have spared and collected to our side will be present as allies, whereas, those we left alone will be present for defeating to some capacity. Perhaps they become the Titans to be beaten, or maybe they become the ones to pull Kris away from both our the player and Gaster’s control, giving Kris his will. Toby REALLY likes the returning cast thing -- he’s done it three times back to back, with all your friends showing up in the true ending to Undertale, all the citizens showing up to overthrow the King in DRC1 and all the monsters and Berdly coming to help you at the end of DRC2. I feel confident that Toby will continue to use the power of friendship continuity like this to the end.

If we impose our will on Kris to do the darkest of the runs available, the ending will be very different, possibly leaving the world in darkness as a punishment for our behavior as players (much in the same ways Sans admonished us directly and beat us down) or perhaps Gaster calls us out this time. But, much like how in the true ending of Undertale, all of the allies we’ve made (all the bonus bosses notably) will show up for the grand finale confrontation against whatever is at the heart of this story as an antagonist, be that us, gaster, or Kris’ loneliness/ implied mental illnesses. Those Dark Crystals too -- there will likely be 7 total and might wrest our control away from Kris to give him his free will back, making a (wait for it) DARK SOUL to push out the players SOUL, that ending of course requiring the defeating of all 7 extra bosses.

Alternately, I could see the two timelines, one where we played Pacifist and one where we played Genocide, colliding. Players who played neutral will be given the choice to participate on either side, either wanting to see the world overrun by dark or saved from it. Finally, I could well see a version of this tale where Susie and Ralsei become the two protagonists if Kris becomes wholly corrupted by Gaster and/ or the Player. They would either need to save their friend, cutting his strings in much the same way that Kris saw Spamton be free of his. It will either save him or end him, and it will be the consequence of our choices which very much DO matter. In any event, I am entirely excited to see what comes next, and I’ll do my best to take a crack at it before we see how it all shakes out ... in a few years again ... when 3-5 drops. C’mon, Dog, don’t keep us waiting TOO long.

If you read all of this, sharing and liking would be really appreciated! I’m hoping to become a part of the Undertale community, since I missed the first boat six years ago. Take care everyone!

-PT

[ecto-american]

The Bachelor

Phic Phight oneshot for @skellagirl: To help raise money for education, Vlad lets a date with himself be auctioned off. To his surprise, Harriet was quite a persistent bidder, and to his bigger surprise...he actually had a good time. Vlad/Harriet

On FFN and AO3

------------------------------------------------------------

"I don't need help getting a date, Jack," Vlad told him shortly. Why did he even come over to FentonWorks? He couldn't even remember why. At least he had some coffee to sip on. If Jack was actually good for anything, it was brewing good coffee.

"Oh come on, V-man! It's not like that! It's to raise money for education!" Jack tried to persuade as he was pouring himself his own cup. Vlad made a small face at the idea. "There's going to be lots of bachelors up there with ya, it won't be just you!"

"I don't think so." He had much better things to do than be paraded around.

"Please Vlad?" Jack nearly begged.

"You know, Vlad, you'd be quite the crowd-drawer," Maddie finally spoke up. Vlad glanced over at her. She was focused on some ectoplasmic samples that were on the counter, dangerously close to some chicken that was marinating for dinner. Mental note; do NOT stay for dinner tonight. "You're likely Amity Park's most sought after bachelor." She looked over her shoulder at him, and with a clearly fake smile, she added, "It'd be really good for you to have a nice woman who's interested in you."

Vlad frowned at her emphasis. He took another drink. It would look good if he showed up for appearances, got it over with and wowed some whatever woman into helping his media image. Election season was coming up, and he was up against the ex-mayor. Doing something for the children would definitely boost him.

"...It is for charity," he said slowly. "And after all, a man like me could fetch for a nice price."

"Of course!" Jack boomed excitedly. "You were voted sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan this year!" Oh god, why the hell did Jack know that? And say that? "Trust me, the crowd'll got mad for you!"

Vlad forced a smile.

"I cannot wait."

------------------------------------------------------------

He really could have waited. Friday night had come, and he found himself very reluctantly walking around the Casper High gym, looking at all the silent auction items up on display on cheap collapsable tables. Vlad mentally thanked himself for making sure Daniel would be too busy all night with Skulker to even have the time to come around to laugh at him.

Ugh, nothing really that good was around up for auction in here. Except for him, obviously. He could tell who was a bachelor for auction just by seeing who else was way overdressed to be standing around in a public high school on a Friday night, and Vlad already knew that he was the best option. He spied another one of these men as the individual picked his nose and wiped it on one of the tables. Vlad made a grossed out face. Easily, the best option.

He glanced around more, boredly trying to waste another twenty minutes before he had to go to the auditorium for the bachelor auctioning. This was the worst. Why did he agree to this? His eyes scanned for any familiar face.

"Harriet!" Vlad instantly recognized the journalist. She turned to face him, giving a small smile and wave when she realized who it was. He took a few steps over towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"My niece goes to Casper High," she replied. "So I decided to come around." She nodded her head at the silent auction she was seemingly considering. It was a high end camera bundle, including not just a high end camera but extra lenses, batteries, the case, the whole works honestly, donated by a local electronics store. "Check it out. Maybe even buy a date so that my mother stops asking me about when I'm getting married," she lightly joked. Vlad chuckled.

"You should consider just buying me," Vlad half-joked back. "I'm by far your best option." Harriet gave a hum as she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" she inquired. Vlad motioned to himself as if it was obvious, flashing a smile.

"Of course. Self made billionaire, tech industry pioneer, scientist, mayor of this fine city, and that's just the beginning," he bragged. She lightly shook her head with a smirk.

"Part time Dairy King worker that somehow caught the ice cream machine on fire, Skunk Punks lead singer whose voice cracked every time he sung anything and guitarist who couldn't play guitar," she listed off. Vlad rolled his eyes with a frown. "Idiot who kept sticking his head into the lab equipment machines and lost his eyebrows for six months. Skater wanna-be that broke both of his ankles trying to do tricks on the campus fountain." Vlad scowled.

"You can stop now," he complained. Harriet laughed.

"Oh, I almost need to buy you purely so that I can remind you that you're not all that and a bag of chips," she replied. "And I can finally corner you into an actual interview. You keep pushing me off." She faked a pout. "It's almost like you don't wanna be around me."

"Don't you have to be nosy somewhere else?" he asked.

"Hmm, not tonight." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "I should go find a seat for the auction. You should probably get up on stage, make yourself look all nice and presentable."

Vlad rolled his eyes, waving her off.

"I need to use the restroom first," he replied. "You head on out."

"See up on the stage. Too bad this isn't Chippendales," she joked. Vlad felt his cheeks flush, and he glared at her. She walked off. Vlad glanced down at the camera bundle she had been eying. He glanced at the auction sheet, and he could tell by the handwriting that she had put in a bid that he knew somebody would eventually counter-offer. Vlad wrote his auctioning number down, and a bid he knew nobody would go over before he made his way to the auditorium.

------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, it was his turn. They put him last, which he completely understood. Always save the best for last. He nearly had dozed off in boredom in his seat while everybody else was auctioned off for barely a hundred dollars.

"We'll start the bidding, as always, at fifty dollars," the overly enthusiastic host said. Vlad mentally scoffed. He was definitely worth more than that. Ugh, this was the last time he did anything to help children. Fuck those little brats. "Fifty-five!"

A bunch of the auction fans shot up in the air. Vlad smiled in satisfaction.

"Oh wow! Okay, well how about sixty-five?" None of the hands went down. "Seventy-five." Two hands went down. "Eighty-five?" Three more hands reluctantly went down. "A hundred?" Most of the hands kept on standing. "Well!" the host chuckled, before directing his attention to Vlad. "You sure are a popular fella!"

No shit. He was a billionaire.

"Let's jump up a bit! One hundred fifty!" Finally, a good amount of the hands went down, leaving only a handful up. "One hundred seventy-five!" No hands down. "Two hundred!" A few reluctantly went down, leaving only four. "Okay, okay! How about-"

"Three hundred!" one of the women called out. The auctioneer looked surprised.

"Oh! Oh um. Okay! Does anybody wanna go higher than three hundred?" he asked.

"Three twenty-five!" Harriet's voice was instantly recognized by Vlad, and he stared in surprise.

"Three-fifty!" the first woman rebutted. Vlad studied her, only to quickly notice that this was a woman he really hadn't ever met before.

"Three seventy five!" Harriet wasted no time putting in her counter offer.

"Four hundred!"

"Four twenty five!"

"Four fifty!"

Vlad watched Harriet as the reporter's jaw clenched. She was staring at the competition with a hard stare.

"Five hundred!" she finally spoke. The other woman studied her, before giving a defeated sigh.

"No counter offer," the unfamiliar lady finally spoke. The auctioneer grinned, pointing to Harriet.

"Well! Looks like our highest prize of the night goes to bidder number seventy-four!"

Harriet met Vlad's eye, and she smiled. He smiled back.

------------------------------------------------------------

"So," Vlad asked, giving a coy smile. "You sure were an insistent bidder." Harriet flushed.

"I did it for the schools," she argued. "My niece goes to Casper High, remember?"

"Oh, I mean, if you did it just to help the schools," Vlad lightly teased. "Then we don't have to go out on the date." Harriet scoffed.

"No way, dude. I spent five-hundred dollars on you, and I'm going to get my money's worth." She poked him in the chest. "Which also means that you're buying me dinner, and some nice wine." Vlad rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright," he reluctantly agreed. "What time shall I pick you up?" Harriet smiled.

"Uh, depends. When are you free? Tomorrow around seven? Ah, who am I kidding." She smirked at him. "You're probably free whenever. What else do you got going on? Be honest."

Vlad flushed red, scowling.

"Okay, I do happen to be free tomorrow night, but normally I'm not!" he insisted. Harriet snorted. "So you need to make sure you check with me before you schedule something."

"You got nothing," she teased in a sing-song voice.

"Oh? And what do you do?" Vlad challenged. She hummed.

"Well, typically on Mondays I visit my grandmother, Wednesday is girls' night with my friends, Thursdays I have my yoga class, and on the weekends I normally get friends with friends or co-workers, go hike, short trip. Whatever I feel like," she replied without missing a beat. Vlad hated Jack for convincing him to do this stupid auction. "And of course, several days a week I go to the gym."

"I go to the gym too," Vlad insisted. Harriet raised an eyebrow at him. "I do! I'm in excellent shape."

"Are you going to the gym, or do you use a home gym in your mansion?" she pressed. Vlad didn't reply. "Thought so. Guess we're on tomorrow at seven?"

"...Tomorrow at seven."

------------------------------------------------------------

Vlad had opted to simply drive himself in one of his flashy, yet more modest cars. It was honestly kind of hard to go to many places in a limo anyway, and not very intimate when there was an unintentional third party hanging out in the car. Harriet had texted him her address earlier, and he showed up right on time, pulling his car up to the curb of her house. A gentleman was never late, after all.

He parked, not bothering to lock his doors as he stepped up to her house. It was a typical small home in a decent little neighborhood. Not one that Vlad could ever imagine himself living in however, but it was cute. He stood at her front door. He exhaled harshly, mentally preparing himself.

He'd be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't nervous. It was one thing to date a new woman he had just met, but this was Harriet. She knew him when he was still a broke college student that worked part time at Dairy King and was in that terrible punk band with Jack.

Vlad rang her doorbell. He absentmindedly wondered if he'd have to wait on her for long, but thankfully, Harriet answered the door fairly quickly.

"Hey! Look at you!" she greeted cheerfully. Vlad knew he flushed a bit at the compliment, which made him...feel weird. That never happened before. "You really cleaned up for me." Okay now he had to roll his eyes a little. Vlad was in a nicer suit compared to normal, with a darker shirt collar and cufflinks, more polished shoes and the like.

"Ah, I'm nothing compared to how lovely you look this evening," he returned the compliment, and he could see Harriet's cheeks brighten a bit under her porch's poor lighting. They had texted each other about their plans, and so she had dressed appropriately for the five star restaurant; a black dress with dark green detailing that came to her knees, matching shoes and her hair done up. She had a formal black jacket over her arm, as well as a clutch handbag. "Are you ready?"

"Uh, one second!" Harriet turned to her door, checking to ensure it was locked. Once she did so, she turned, slipping her arm into his. "Now I am."

"Well, off we go," he smiled. "I think you'll like where we're going. It has the most divine sushi in Amity Park."

"I can't wait," Harriet replied. "I love sushi. Remember that campus sushi bar?"

"Absolutely," he replied. He walked her down the porch to his car. "Maddie worked there. She used to sneak us huge takeout boxes of leftovers."

"Oh I nearly forgot about that," Harriet laughed. "I'd help her smuggle out the boxes in my backpack."

"And you got soy sauce all over your bag four times," he chuckled. Harriet grumbled.

"Yeah, I had to re-print my final paper," she complained. "And eventually get a new bag that didn't smell like sushi all the time."

Vlad opened the car door for her. She slipped her arm out, giving him a thanks as she slipped inside.

------------------------------------------------------------

Naturally, he had made a reservation for the best seat in the house; a table in a more private area of the place, indoors but near a large window that had a good view of the beautiful landscaping in their limited yard-area.

After giving his car to the valet and getting seated, Vlad glanced at the menu, immediately spying his favorite, rock shrimp tempura. However he looked around to see what else was available. Hmm, he was somewhat in the mood for BBQ Unagi…

"What do you normally get?" Harriet questioned as she looked over her options.

"...Know what? Since this is your first time, maybe we should just get morimoto omakase," Vlad suggested. He gently pushed her menu down so that he could look at it, and he pointed to the option. Harriet scanned the description. Essentially a dish with a little bit of everything.

"Ooo, that sounds good," Harriet mused.

"It's delicious, and it pairs well with white wine," Vlad told her. She smiled.

"Let's get that then," she agreed.

When the waiter came by, they ordered just that. Quickly, the waiter had come back to bring them the bottle of white wine, pouring them their first glass for them before leaving the bottle at Vlad's request. They each took a sip.

"Mmm, this is pretty good," Harriet spoke first. "I typically just get a red wine."

"I do too," Vlad replied. "But white wine goes well with fish." Harriet gave a surprised hum before taking another drink. "You probably know too much about me though. Tell me about your work. Amity News." She nodded.

"Yeah, I'm one of the main news anchors," she replied.

"Oh trust me, I know. I get to watch you tell me the news every day, it's a highlight of the day," Vlad complimented. Harriet rolled her eyes with a flush.

"Alright, cheesehead," she teased. "But yeah, I really love it. When I was younger I really enjoyed investigative journalism, since it let me go all over, but I'm really liking being in one place. Though I occasionally go out on the scene, but it's kinda dangerous to cover ghost fights here. And what we have Lance for."

Vlad snorted. He knew the news man too well. He was, as the kids called it, a meme at this point. He knew Daniel and his friends constantly posted these memes of Lance Thunder on social media, making fun of his on the scene appearances.

"What do you make of all these ghosts?" Vlad questioned. Harriet shrugged.

"Well, they certainly exist. Honestly thought Jack was stupid to try and build that one ghost portal in college. Even though. Ugh, Jack is such a buffoon sometimes," Harriet grumbled. "I still haven't forgiven him for costing me my job in Milwaukee, especially since I used him as a reliable source. Ugh!" She stopped herself to finish off her glass of wine. She exhaled deeply as she put the glass down, half-smiling apologetically. "Sorry. I know he's your friend."

"No, no no," Vlad replied eagerly. "I understand. After all, it was my home he destroyed, remember?" Harriet nodded.

"He had to have done thousands in damage," she said sympathetically. "Especially to your library. Oh, and it was a beautiful library too."

"It was one of my favorite rooms in that house," Vlad sighed. "I rebuilt the room, but it just wasn't ever quite the same. My new library, however, it's simply gorgeous."

"Oh?" Harriet questioned. Vlad took it as a sign to continue.

"It's a two story library, for once, like a true two story library. The lighting is fantastic, but also on a dimmer so the mood can be truly set," he began to describe. "I managed to slowly rebuild my collection of the classics, and there's a wood burning fireplace. Oh and of course, my favorite, the small reading nook with the most comfortable chair you will ever sit in next to a huge window. It's simply perfect."

"Oh, I would probably sit in that nook and read forever," Harriet sighed dreamily. Vlad smiled, picking up the bottle of wine with a raised eyebrow. Harriet picked her glass up, holding it for him to pour her some more. He did so, before refilling his own glass. She took another long sip of her drink.

"I would more often, but unfortunately, it's also the cat's favorite spot, and I can never bring myself to move her," he confessed. Harriet beamed.

"Vlad! You never told me you had a cat!" she exclaimed. "What's his name?" Vlad felt a cold sweat hit him. Wait.

"Maggie," he lied. "When I adopted her, that was what they called her, and it didn't feel right to change it." Harriet nodded understandingly. She set her glass of wine down to dig through her clutch, and she pulled her phone out.

"I have the most handsome little guy, his name's Taggy. Short for Maytag," she said. She showed Vlad her phone, exposing a picture of a grey and white cat stretched out in a cat hammock near a window. But that name...

"...Maytag? As in the company?"

Harriet flushed a bit.

"When I moved into my first apartment, his previous owners had left him, and so my old roommate and I began calling him Maytag after the refrigerator, since he came with the apartment, and we put food in him," she explained. "Then my roommate got married, and her husband's cats didn't get along with Taggy, so I just kept him, and he's moved six times with me since then." Vlad cracked a smile.

"Mad-ggie's name has kind of devolved into me just calling her Princess," he admitted. "I've bought so many luxury cat things for her and beds, the drinking fountain water bowl, wet food, the best vet in all of Illinois. Only the finest."

"I do the same for Taggy, much as I can afford. He's my special guy."

The waiter shyly interrupted them, bringing them each a huge plate of food. Harriet eyed hers hungrily, thanking him cheerfully.

"Oh, this does delicious," Harriet beamed. She took her chopsticks, and grabbed a bite. Vlad took another sip of wine before he did the same. "It tastes great too!"

"You think I'd steer you wrong?" Vlad lightly bragged.

"Who knows," Harriet shrugged. She gave a sly smirk. "You're the one who steered us all so wrong that you got the van stuck in a snowbank." Vlad glared at her, making her burst into snickers.

They ate in silence for a few moments, savoring their meal. Harriet took another long drink of her wine, and Vlad refilled it for her. She gave a smile.

"Thank you," she said. "Do you like your food?"

"Very much so, it's delicious," he replied. "How's yours?"

"Great, I never had such delicious food!" She ate another chopstick full of food. "I guess this is how five star dining is, huh? I made a good date investment. But next time I gotta take you to a diner."

"Oh?" Vlad raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I get the feeling that you eat too fancy," she explained. "Sometimes you just need the greasiest burger and saltiest fries that you wash down with cheap soda."

"Hmm, wouldn't you prefer I take you to a five star steakhouse?" he questioned.

"You can take me there on our third date," Harriet replied. Vlad raised his eyebrow again. "But for date too, I think you need a greasy burger."

"Third date?" he echoed. He took a drink of his wine, finishing it off.

"Yeah, I think you'll wanna take me out again," Harriet hummed. She reached for the wine to refill his glass for him.

"Thank you, dear. But really?"

"Absolutely, I'm a catch," she replied. "I've travelled the world, I'm very educated, financially stable, have my own house, am very pretty." She jokingly flipped her hair.

"Ah, I'd say you're more of a beauty than just very pretty," Vlad mused. Harriet smiled.

"Aww, thank you cheesehead," she replied. "But yes. So naturally, I think you're not going to be able to resist asking me to accompany you out again. I did you a favor by bidding on you, actually."

"We'll see how the night ends, and who's wanting a second date more," Vlad said. "I mean, yes you are quite a catch, but I think you're forgetting who was voted as sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan magazine." Harriet nearly choked on her wine from laughter.

"Oh my god, you read Cosmo?" she giggled. Vlad flushed red.

"N-no, I was told this," he insisted. "When I got voted as such." Harriet had to put her chopsticks down, covering her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. Vlad slammed back the rest of his wine, refilling his own cup.

"Oh man, you really haven't changed all that much." She took a deep breath to get her laughter under control. "Same ol' cute Vlad." This peaked his interest.

"You thought I was cute?" he asked. Harriet flushed, picking her chopsticks back up to continue eating.

"Eh, kinda. In that nerdy sorta way," she confessed. "I tried getting your attention a few times, but you never seemed too interested. You were always really distracted by that portal project."

More like distracted by Maddie, as she was a huge reason why he was so interested in helping with the proto portal project. Remembering the woman of his dreams made him pause. He suddenly felt guilty that he was out on a date. And Maddie's college best friend of all people!

Of course, he had dated here and there. Maddie was, unfortunately, married, so he knew that rationally he had to somewhat try and move on. But nobody had ever truly clicked with him, or made him feel like she had. His mind was often distracted by her the entire time but...until now he had actually forgotten about Maddie.

"Ah yeah, I was...really focused on school," he half-lied, taking another bite of food.

"I could tell. Nerd," she jibbed. "Even now I can tell you're super busy with all your business stuff."

"Not as busy as you'd think, but also yes," Vlad corrected. "I have a lot of meetings to attend and business decisions to make, but I at least get a lot of help and feedback."

"That's true," Harriet said. "But I'm glad we're able to do something now. Even if we just never got around to it back then." She poked at one of her foods with her chopstick before taking the bite. "I mean, I've been kind of all over too. I don't think anything would have even worked out had we even tried something."

"Ah, yes. I remember Maddie mentioning that you were never in one place for more than two months for a long time," Vlad said.

"Yup!" she confirmed. "That's investigative journalism for ya. Takes you all over. But I really liked it. I'm glad I had that opportunity, and that I did it. Don't regret a bit of it."

"Business too," he agreed. "Especially when you're starting an empire. I don't think I was truly home for months at a time, I was going from place to place to oversee offices being built and products being made. Seeing how progress is being made on research. It was a busy first fifteen years or so. I don't think I was truly relaxing and enjoying what I'd made until the past six years or so."

"Yeah, I remember reading about your progress," she said. "Fascinating story. You had such amazing charisma to get all these companies to go with your plans." Vlad felt a bit of a nervous wave hit him, but he didn't show it, or really even have to reply. Harriet had already moved on. "Ugh, this was so good. I can't believe I was able to eat all of this."

Her plate was empty, and he had just taken his last bite.

"Would you like dessert?" he asked. She shook her head no.

"Nah, I'm good. I've eaten enough," she replied. Vlad just nodded, and he called their water over.

Instead of waiting to get a receipt book from the waiter, he simply handed him his credit card. Vlad never checked the bill when he went out to eat. The price tag never bothered him.

The waiter accepted it, soon coming back for Vlad to sign. Vlad quickly did, and for his trouble, he also handed the young man five hundred dollar bills as a tip. It made him nearly tear up and stutter as he thanked him, but quite honestly, it was more to show off to Harriet his generosity more than any genuine kindness, which, judging by her expression, absolutely worked.

Vlad gave him a half smile and waved him off, and the pair collected their things to leave, heading towards the front of the restaurant arm in arm.

"You know, the night's still young," Vlad mused. He opened the door for her, and Harriet slipped through.

"Thank you," she replied. "But oh? You don't have work?"

"Nothing that can't be rearranged," he replied. "Do you?" Harriet smiled.

"Nope, I have tomorrow off. So what are you thinking?" she asked. Vlad glanced at his watch. Hell, it was only ten-thirty.

"Have you ever been to the Amity Park Country Club?" he questioned. She nodded.

"Oh yeah. I've been there as a guest twice, for interviews," she explained. She glanced at her phone. "Doesn't it close soon though?" Vlad chuckled.

"On midnights on the weekends," he replied.

"Hmm, okay," Harriet agreed. "But we won't stay too long."

Vlad went up to the valet, informing him of his car make and model, and the young man nodded, jogging off to fetch it.

"My dear, I'm a high priority member. They'll stay open for me," he insisted. Harriet rolled her eyes.

"The workers wanna go home too, Vlad," she reminded him. "We should be respectful of their time and leave when it closes."

Vlad resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was above having to follow those kinds of petty rules. When you had billions in the bank, you could easily just toss a few thousand out to make workers let you stay past the closing time with no issues. He had never heard a single complaint after he flashed a few thousand, a drop in the bucket for him. But what Harriet wanted, she would get. He supposed, anyway. After a few dates, she'd likely just begin agreeing with him and allow him to bend the rules for her.

After a few dates? Vlad thought on it. Yeah...after a few dates.

"Whatever you wish," he replied.

His car pulled up, and Vlad immediately opened the car door for her.

------------------------------------------------------------

"And it just kind turned into a semi-permanent offer until I got kinda homesick," Harriet finished her story off as she hit another ball with the golf club. Vlad hummed lightly as her ball went off towards somewhere in the dark. "But it was amazing. I'd love to return to China sometime. Kinda unfortunately, Amity Park doesn't really cover international news like that. It's very local only."

"Maybe you should just come with me next time I go," Vlad offered. He grabbed another golf ball from their large bucket of them, setting it on the tee before lining himself up. With an experienced swing, he hit the ball, and it flew off. "To China, I mean. I go there about twice a year or so for business. Sometimes more."

"Ugh, that'd be awesome," Harriet agreed. She leaned over to pick up her drink, a pink margarita, that was resting on the tables that were set up near the driving range. Her jacket and clutch were on the table too, her heels tucked under the table. Vlad had also folded his suit jacket neatly to rest next to hers, allowing himself to also unbutton and roll his sleeves up to his elbows, and the top two buttons of his shirt. He also had his own drink, a rum and coke, that sat near hers. "I can show you all the local spots from my time there."

"Hm, that would be very nice," Vlad mused. He hit another ball. He was somewhat glad that Harriet had talked him out of doing the full course. While he didn't care (and Harriet very much did) that it would have taken far past closing time to finish a game, it was much more relaxing to just do this. Especially with nobody else being around. "I typically do only business."

"Oh boo, that's boring," Harriet said. She already had another ball on her tee, and she wacked it again. The ball went soaring. "What's the point of all your money if you're not enjoying yourself and your life?"

Vlad didn't reply. He focused on another swing. The ball stayed close to the ground, quickly rolling on and on and on before he couldn't see where it went anymore.

"You were married before, weren't you?" Vlad questioned. Harriet snorted.

"Oh, we're already at the 'let's talk about our exes' part of the relationship?" she teased. Vlad chuckled, grabbing another ball. "Eh, for about seven years. Nothing bad happened, we just realized that we weren't really as compatible as we thought. I enjoyed traveling the world and being out, and he was a big homebody that hated planes and trains. Started to realize that I wanted a family one day, he preferred it to be just us. We didn't see each other that much cause I would go cover stories all over, and it just felt like we'd be happier. So we just kind of had a mutual divorce."

"I can understand that," Vlad replied. He lightly tapped his ball twice before swinging the club as hard as he could. The ball straight up disappeared in a blink of an eye.

"So what's your excuse for never having a girlfriend before?" Harriet questioned. Vlad was grateful about the lighting, as he knew that his face was dark red. "Too busy with work, too nerdy, what?"

"I've had a girlfriend before!" he argued. "I've dated women plenty before. Don't you remember Stacy?"

"Nope," Harriet replied. She hit another ball.

"Yes you do!" he insisted. He took a break from swinging, leaning on his club. "I was with her for four years! Out of all the women I dated she was the one the papers and articles talked about the most. Don't you remember all the rumors swirling around about why we hadn't gotten married already?"

"Hmm, must have been a figment of your imagination," Harriet replied, and he exhaled dramatically. He finally noticed the shit-eatting grin, and that she was just pulling his leg. She giggled, grabbing another golf ball. She tossed it up into the air, catching it before putting it on the tee. "Okay, okay. So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?" Vlad questioned. He took a step towards their table, grabbing his drink. He needed it right about now.

"Marry Stacy," Harriet clarified.

"Eh, it just wasn't really meant to be," he dismissed simply. He took a long gulp of his drink, sighing softly when he finished.

"Oh?" Harriet pressed. He frowned. He should have known that she was going to be nosy about it. Typical journalist.

"...I could tell that we didn't really like each other all that much," he confessed. "We were just both lonely. We would go places together but never actually be together. We lived together but never saw each other outside of bedtime, though towards the end, she began to just sleep in a separate room since our schedules would be so different. We talked about getting married on and off, but...I don't know when it clicked for me that this just wasn't what I truly wanted. I wanted a wife and children that I spent time with and that I loved being with. So we just kind of broke up, and she moved out."

Harriet nodded understandingly.

"At least you realized it before children potentially got involved," she said. "I'm glad I divorced with no children. I'd hate to put them through something like that."

"Agreed," Vlad replied. He picked up another golf ball. Instead of bending over to put it on the ground, he lazily dropped it and hit the ball on the bounce. "How many would you want?"

"Hm? What? Kids?" Harriet questioned. Vlad gave a 'mhm' noise to confirm. "At least two. A boy and a girl. What about you?"

"As many as possible," he said. He got another ball. "I always wanted a big family."

"Hmm, well I'm not a clown car," Harriet replied. "Regardless of how often I'd let a clown like you in." Vlad rolled his eyes. "Besides, you have Jasmine and Danny right? Maddie and Jack's kids?"

"Yeah, they're my godchildren," Vlad confirmed. He reached over for another quick sip of his drink. "I bought Jasmine her car. When Daniel gets his license I'll be getting him one too. And of course, paying for college. I have a few other godchildren too, same deal. I've gotten them all a car and paid for college. Can't let them have any of that dreadful student loan debt."

"Aw, you're just a big ol' softie," Harriet teased. "I'm not a billionaire, so I can't really do the same, but I'm pitching in to help my sister get my niece a decent used car next year. By the time her little brother's getting a car, I'll likely be doing the same."

"You're looking for cars for her?" Vlad mused. "I can get her one." Harriet shook her head.

"No, that's not necessary," she replied. "It's a lot to ask."

"Nonsense, I have the money to spare," he persisted. "A decent used car. Children don't need brand new ones, they're still learning." Harriet bit her lower lip as she pondered the offer.

"We'll discuss it another time with my sister," she said. Vlad nodded in agreement. He grabbed a ball. Their bucket was nearly empty now.

"I understand," he replied. Harriet picked up one of the last balls. She tossed it up in the air and swung her bat. She missed, but she quickly was able to redeem herself by hitting it on the third bounce. "I just hate to see children go without. That's why I was auctioned off, afterall. For the sake of the kids." Harriet gave a skeptical hum, getting another ball. "...Well, you know, if we're going to go out again, I need to make a good first impression on your family."

"That's better," Harriet replied. "If we're going to hang out more like this, we need to be open and honest with each other."

Vlad picked up the last ball. He stared at it for a moment, and he put it on Harriet's tee for her. She shot him a thankful smile, and she wacked the ball into the night.

"There'll be more, right?" Vlad asked.

"Well, if you're free next Friday, we can go see a show," Harriet suggested. She went back to the table, slipping into her heels again. She downed the last bit of her drink. "Local theater's opening weekend is soon."

Next weekend was terrible. Vlad had so much to do that following week that he'd have to spend all weekend preparing for. Many meetings, lots of documents to read and write and revise. Moving anything around would be an absolute headache.

But it could be moved around.

"Sounds lovely," he agreed. He finished off his drink before rolling his sleeves down again. He slipped his jacket back on. "Ready to head home?"

"We have to take the cups and clubs back up to the office," she said, nodding at the country club. Vlad made a face, and he began to protest, but a Look from Harriet made him shut up.

"Alright, alright," he sighed. Harriet grabbed their cups, and he took their clubs.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Next Friday, right?" Harriet asked as they took the final step up onto her porch.

"Yes, I'll call you tomorrow to organize a proper time," Vlad told her. He paused as he suddenly remembered. "One second."

He did a half-jog back to his car, opening the backseat and pulling out a basket. As he returned to the door, it became clear as to what it was. It was the camera bundle she had been bid on at the auction, and she stared at it.

"Here, I had noticed you bid on it. I wanted to make sure you got it," he explained, handing it out to her.

"You bought that?" she questioned.

"Yes, I knew that you'd be outbid. So I just made sure that you could get it," he replied. Harriet smiled warmly, accepting it.

"Thank you," she said. She set it on one of the porch chairs for now. "This was honestly such a great night. Gotta admit, I was kinda skeptical, but you really impressed me."

"Of course, didn't you say yourself that you made a good investment," he joked. Harriet snickered.

"Yeah, but I think even I surprised myself," she said. "I thought I was just going to buy a nice, fancy one dinner, but I'm pretty sure I actually did buy somebody that I'm going to be introducing to my mom." She gestured to her front door. "Did you wanna come inside for a bit? Pretty sure you're too tired to make the long drive home."

"I don't live too far," Vlad replied. "It's about twenty minutes, I can easily get home."

"Oh?" Harriet lightly pressed. "You sure you're not too tired though? Don't need a coffee or anything? Or want to take a nap before you go?"

It finally clicked.

"Ah, you know, I think I would like to rest a bit before I go," he agreed. Harriet smiled, turning to unlock her door. Vlad grabbed the camera basket for her, and they went inside.

[symphonic-scream]

Digimon au Group 2: Marinette, Alya, Nino, and Adrien

All four were in different places before they were pulled in. Marinette was waiting by her computer for an update on the internship she applied for, Alya working away on a research paper in the back of a library at an old computer, Nino editing his latest short film, and Adrien was watching something on like Netflix or something

When Alix reopens the portal to the digital world, it's not just on Max's computer. These four get sucked in as well, pulled in like the other three were

Nino comes to first, in a dusty alley in what looks like an abandoned city. He stumbles out into the street, the world around him silent as he tries to figure out where he is. He finds Alya waking up on a bench across the street, and they introduced themselves

They haven't been together long before they hear someone shouting from one of the nearby buildings. Marinette is leaning out of a broken window, looking around for any sign of life. Alya kinda shout/talks with her for a moment and convinces her to come down, they'll meet in the lobby, where they find Adrien in an empty fountain

All awake, they properly introduce themselves and try to figure out what happened. Alya pulls out her phone only to see it's replaced with the same digivices Alix, Max, and Kim got in the first post. Marinette's is black, Adrien's white, Nino's blue, and Alya's a dark blood orange. With them all pulled out, they start to glow, bringing forth their digimon partners

(see post 1 for explanation of the evolution stages) their digimon appear before them in the Training stage

For Marinette, Moonmon

Adrien, Sunmon

Alya gets Viximon

And Nino gets Nyaromon

They all kinda freak out, Adrien being instantly excited, Marinette very wary and all that. There's that bit of explanation that theyre in the digital world, these are their digimon partners, they've been brought there for a reason but they can't remember it

The group agrees to explore the city more to find maybe some food, water, a warm place to sleep that night, and find many shops fully stocked, completely abandoned, but the food and stuff isn't expired, rather it's really fresh. Alya and Nino pilfer some backpacks and stock up, while Adrien and Mari study a map on the side of what looks like a bus station

When Alya and Nino rejoin them on the street, that's when some machine digimon finds them. Starts doin that "threat detected" type shit, and oh no they have to book it someplace safe-

They get chased into an alley, where their devices glow as their partners digivolve into their Rookie stage (the typical standard one) to protect them-

Lunamon for Marinette

Adrien gets Coronamon

I caved and gave Alya Renamon

And for Nino, Salamon

They do their best to fend it off, and only manage to get a window to run off back into the streets to find a building to hide in for the night

They bunker up in what looks like a movie theatre, but all the movie posters look like knock offs of real movies but the actors are replaced with random Digimon-

With no knowledge to go on, they decide that when the morning comes, they'll head out to explore, and try to find out why they're there, and maybe a way to get home. They will eventually find what connects them, and what connects all the other teens dragged in too

Now onto the crests-

Mari and Adrien are two sides of the same coin in a way, sharing two half's of the Balance crest; Adrien Light, Marinette Dark. Adrien starting with a tendency to see good even where there isn't, and Marinette with evil. They have to accept the world is a greyscale mess, more than two tones, and that you gotta have a mix of darkness and light

Alya's got Ambition. She's always throwing herself headfirst into her projects, shooting for greater and greater heights with reckless abandon. Just like the myth of Icarus, if she soars too close to the sun, she'll plummet back down. So she has to learn that while having ambition is a virtue, it's still one she has to manage, by taking care of herself along the way

I gave Nino Friendship. Having been a loner for a while, Nino is struggling with the idea of what it means to be a good friend, to really be there for his friends. Is he doing enough? Too much? Things happen that make him feel like a shitty friend along the way, and he's gotta realize that it's a two way street; he can't put all the blame on himself, and all that communication stuff

Design time!

For Marinette, I'm thinking maybe charcoal or black denim overalls, the kind that end in shorts, yeah? Worn with a white long sleeved shirt with cherry blossoms going down the sleeves?? Little red ribbons for the pigtails, and those Toms shoes in light pink

Alya's got those high waisted jeans? The bigger ones, I don't know what they're called. With like, a wrestle mania shirt under a big flannel, she still has her glasses, and I'm a sucker for her shoes so I'm keeping them

Keeping the bright blue shirt for Nino, along with the hat. Grey jacket with a darker hood, dark brown khakis, probably some red or blue converse style shoes. He also gets to keep his glasses

And finally, Adrien. That graphic t-shirt look with the coloured stripes on a mid grey, with a collared, short sleeve black shirt over it. Some blue jeans, and some black and green sneaks

--

Yeah here's group 2. Yay. More Digimon au- I'll be making the group 3 post soon, with there being 6 groups in total. Feel free to let me know what you think, or if you have any questions

[cyndalyssa]

Oh, Look, Another Darkwing Drabble

This one’s a snippet of a bigger story in my head, based on the idea of Bushroot going massive mindless monstrosity. 

I dunno if I’ll ever write the rest of the story down, my life tends to get a little busy and I already have a lot of ideas I want to make in my free time, but I at least wanted to exercise the writing muscles. 

All was quiet at the Museum of Failed Experiments. The dark of night gave the appearance of rest to each polished display, even those that were still lit. Though dignified it looked, the place was home to quite a bit of failure, hence the name. Each wing, covering branches of science and engineering, was a hall of shame, showing off embarrassments, tragedies, and unfinished projects to the citizens of St. Canard.

It was at this scene that the night guards present had unfortunate encounters. A flower that sprayed sleeping gas, a stun gun, a joy buzzer that ended in instant knockout, being washed into a closet by water from the drinking fountain, and just getting hit by a mallet were their fates, and they were swiftly locked up by the intruders.  

The Fearsome Five then had the place to themselves. 

As they met up in the lobby, Megavolt couldn’t help but look up, in awe of the enormity of it. “Wowza, they really went all out on this place!” He glanced back at the corridor from whence he came and smiled. “They’ve got gizmos and gadgets aplenty!”

Quackerjack bounced to his side. “And whozits and whatzits galore!”

“They got thingamabobs?”

“Psht, at least twenty!”

Megavolt laughed. “I can’t believe they gave up on some of these! I oughta grab ‘em and show everyone how it’s done!” 

Quackerjack grinned. “Oh, I feel you, Sparky! In fact, I’m getting quite a bit of inspiration myself from doodads like the fruit-flavored fireworks! Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo, can you just imagine a literal explosion of fruity goodness?”

Megavolt narrowed his eyes, his plug hat sparking and an irritated growl in his voice. “How many times have I told you not to call me Sparky?”

“Not like you can remember.”

Cutting between them, the Liquidator piped in, “Fruit-flavored fireworks? The phenomenon of the century, guaranteed to sweeten up your 4th of July celebrations! Comes in apple, cherry, grape, and blue raspberry.”

Bushroot scratched his head. “I’m just wondering how the inventor expected that to work. What kind of chemistry was involved?”

Negaduck rolled his eyes. “Blegh, of course you dweebs get hopped up on exploding fruit snacks. Now remember, children, we’re not here for the fireworks, we’re here for the portal gun that’s supposed to be displayed here… and I expect you to be looking for it!” 

The other four silently stared at him for a moment, glanced at each other, and then back to him. Then, Megavolt asked, “Well, what does it look like?”

“It’s red and vaguely gun-shaped, with a spinny thing at the end,” Negaduck answered in baby-talk. Then he snapped, “I’m sure you could figure it out from the display name! Now, get to searching!”

Negaduck stormed upstairs. Quackerjack and Megavolt rushed to the technology wing--partially running from Negaduck, partially rushing to see what kind of doodads they could see. Perhaps even take some and modify them for later mischief. 

Liquidator was about to flow down another hall when he noticed Bushroot at the directory. The plant duck glanced the direction of the hall that Quackerjack and Megavolt rushed down, and then up the stairs that Negaduck had descended. Then, almost sneakily, he went in the opposite direction and toward the natural science and chemistry wing. 

Curious, Liquidator decided to follow him, and had caught up in a second. “One in ten customers would say that this portal gun is not in this wing, Bushroot.”

Bushroot flinched at the sudden voice, but quickly regained his composure. “Well, uh… when studying the map earlier, I recall that the storage room was somewhere in this direction. It could be in there.”

Liquidator raised a watery eyebrow. “You want an excuse to look around, huh?”

Bushroot glanced away. “Well… it couldn’t hurt. I mean, I’m curious and I don’t know when I’ll be able to have another opportunity for a museum visit.” He looked back to see Liquidator still staring like a disappointed parent. “But I do think storage is in this wing, honest!”

“Hm. Well, if it’s in this direction, why not treat yourself to this once-in-a-lifetime super private tour? Just don’t get too distracted, and it’ll be between you and me.”

“O-oh, that’s no problem. I’m a pretty fast reader.”

The two mutants wandered around the natural science and chemistry wing, looking for a door or hall or basement staircase that led to that storage room. However, Liquidator was doing most of the looking, sweeping around the rooms quickly, while Bushroot, though still looking at the walls in hopes of spotting the passage they were looking for, was circling displays in fascination. There were models and pictures of odd creatures or monstrosities, as well as deformed skeletons of unfortunate souls. He read about attempts to clone prehistoric plants and even animals, a tale of a man who accidentally fused himself with a fly, and the horror of radioactive moss. On occasion, he’d stumble on a display involving water, and invite Likki to take a look. 

Every so often, Liquidator would look to see what Bushroot was doing. There were moments that Bushroot seemed to be genuinely looking for that storage room--such as now, when walking along the wall of glass cases full of more experiments, he paused at a gap in the wall, looking at a door, but saw that it was an emergency exit and then moved on. Otherwise, the plant duck was more invested in the science that surrounded him, which Likki had a little trouble relating to. While some of the stuff involving water was interesting, he otherwise didn’t care for the biological stuff that Bushroot was so entranced by. 

Meanwhile, so far, the only doors they had found were emergency exits, but nothing leading to any storage or basement at some point. Liquidator was almost of the mind that Bushroot duped him, but Bushy wasn’t like that.

At some point, when Liquidator finally found a hallway that looked promising, Bushroot suddenly cried, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

Alarmed, Likki splashed his way to where Bushroot stood, at a display in the corner about biological chemical disasters. The plant duck was looking quite offended, glaring at one particular shelf where a green substance, surrounded by plant models and photos of a strange machine, sat. Likki took a closer look at the label, which read:

Chloroplast Infusion Solution, Dr. Reginald Bushroot, Ph.D

Skimming over the description of the substance, what it was supposed to do, and how it backfired, Likki just glanced over to Bushroot, who held his head in his leafy hands. 

“How humiliating! I can’t believe I made it into the Hall of Shame!”

Likki patted him on the back. “Aw, Bushy, do not fret! After all, you’ve gotten an upgrade! Who needs a normal sad sap scientist when you can have a super plant that can grow a forest with just a thought?” 

A sharp glare arose from Bushroot’s palms. “I just wanted to alleviate world hunger… and, uh, maybe get a little respect…”

“Respect, huh?” Likki shook his head. “I’m sure with your power, you can easily command it.”

“There is a difference between respect and fear.”

“Hm. Well, as Bud Flud, I was just a salesman trying to keep my business afloat; but as the Liquidator, I became master of all liquids, one with the water, and a force to be reckoned with!” A sphere of water detached from Likki’s hand and revolved around it. “I know my power, and I revel in it.” 

He grabbed the sphere, reabsorbing it. “As for you… well, you’ve got potential, but you lack nerve. Someday, I’d like to see you cut loose, show them what Bushroot is really capable of.”

Bushroot glanced at him, pondering on whether he should remind Liquidator of Negaduck and their shared fear of him, but decided against it. He crossed his arms. “Fine, whatever you say.”

He went back to glaring at the display of his fateful project. “If those two ignoramuses had just minded their own business and not made me look bad in front of the dean, then I would’ve still had the funding to test on the lab rats instead of myself. You know, catch the kinks and find a way to iron them out. But… here I am now.”

“I’d say that career change was for the better.”

“But I liked being a scientist… sure, I hated my coworkers--except one--but I love science.”

Likki shrugged. “Life sucks and we just gotta roll with the punches.” He turned around and marched toward that one hallway. “Now, come on, there’s a storage room calling our names, and who knows when the purple menace will pop in.”

Bushroot sighed, taking one last look at his experiment’s exhibit. “All right, I’ll stop wasting ti--”

He stopped when he caught a name on the display right next to his. Eyes boggling, he grabbed the bottle from that shelf and shouted, “Goodness grapevines! He has one here too?”

Likki stopped and turned around. “Inquiring minds must know… who’s he?” 

Bushroot gestured to the name on the display, which, when Likki took a closer look, read ‘Dr. Arthur Bones’. “He was my rival back in college, and he was one of the meanest, most condescending jerks that I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing. I don’t know what I ever did to him, but sometimes it felt like it was his life’s mission just to convince me that everything I do is stupid and dangerous. Hmph, at least my buddy Andrew had my back.”

Liquidator rubbed his chin. “You just have a way of attracting bullies, don’t you? At the very least, you can take some joy that Dr. Bones is also in the Hall of Shame!”

“Yeah, I guess I could.” Bushroot looked at the label on the bottle, brow furrowed in confusion. “Although I do wonder what he was doing making fertilizer. Last I remember, he was into genetics--especially studies on mutations and defects.”

“For more information, check the description--it’s right there.”

Bushroot turned to the description and read aloud, “‘In 1990, a miracle growth formula invented by Dr. Bones took several western states by storm. With a natural sweet scent and potent power, it improved the lives of gardeners everywhere by making plants healthier, stronger, and sturdier against disease and pests, and helping them to grow faster than normal’.” He scratched his chin and nodded. “Well, now I’m tempted to bring it home with me and see what my plants think.”

Liquidator chuckled. “Oh, I bet they’d love it! The amazing miracle fertilizer, guaranteed to create a happy and hearty garden!”

“Ee-hee, it does sound great.” Bushroot’s smile fell into a frown as he turned back to the description. “But this is a Museum of Failed Experiments, so there is a catch here... ‘While at first it seemed to be a blessing, it soon proved to be dangerous for people, as proven with the Mallard High School Football Team during the fall of 1990. Reports of--’”

“I am the terror that flaps in the night!”

The sudden voice from nowhere made them jump. Bushroot even ended up tossing the bottle of fertilizer into the air. He didn’t even hear the second part of the introduction, too distracted by gravity smashing the bottle onto his head. The glass shattered, and fertilizer splashed everywhere on him and the floor, leaving him a dripping mess. His roots started lapping up the puddle that remained. 

“I am… Darkwing Duck!”

[themurphyzone]

PatB Nova Ch 8

Ch 8: Radiant

It’s been a long time since I updated this fic. Thanks for your patience!

FFN Link, AO3 Link

Brain scrambled off Pinky as soon as he was able to move. Though part of Pinky wished the moment had lasted longer, he was happy that his best friend was okay after that mean ol’ Mr. Lamont squished him.

Brushing off the dust from his favorite pair of denim shorts, Pinky hopped to his feet like a piece of fresh popcorn. Next to him, Brain wiped the lens of his sunglasses on the inside of his shirt and slipped them over his eyes. He ran his fingers over his antennae to get the kinks out.

“Are your hands okay?” Pinky asked, grabbing Brain’s hands to make sure there was no bleeding or bruising or barbecuing. “Your elbows? Kidneys? Crookedy tail?”

“I’m fine. In case your addled mind can’t tell, no extremities are out of place and my internal organs have remained internal,” Brain grumbled. He turned his attention to the frightened worker, who was scrambling to pick up the scattered items Mr. Lamont had rudely thrown to the floor. “As for you, your inaction almost cost me my guide! Have you no shame?”

The worker, whose name was Conner according to the spiffy name tag on his chest, glared at Brain and angrily threw a baseball cap into the box. “And risk my job here? No thank you! What were you thinking, talking to Mr. Lamont like that? You trying to get us all in trouble?”

Brain scowled and folded his arms. “I will speak to Mr. Lamont however I desire. He’s hardly different from any other inhabitant.”

“If you want his lawyers ripping every cent out of your body, that’s on you,” Conner snorted. He stood up and nudged the box behind the podium with his foot. “But leave the rest of us out of it. Just what rock have you been living under if you’ve never heard of him anyway?”

Brain’s fur started to bristle, and Pinky nudged him aside. “Sorry about my friend,” he said to the worker. “He’s new here. Poit! They don’t even have blueberry bagels where he’s from, you know.”

“Yes, truly scandalous,” Brain scoffed. Though Pinky figured he really did wish he’d been introduced to the joys of bagels sooner.

For a moment, Conner was silent, but he accepted the explanation with a sigh. “Well, guess I can cut you some slack then,” he muttered. Brain tapped his foot impatiently, and Conner plopped into his chair behind the podium. “You just backtalked the guy who owns a good chunk of the city, including the mall. Displease him in any way and he goes complaining to the boss, then it’s a reprimand or a firing, and nobody here can afford that.”

Come to think of it, he might’ve seen Mr. Lamont’s face on the local news while channel surfing, but it could’ve easily been a large dust bunny or a mustard stain as well. He wasn’t sure which.

Oh well.

Then Pinky noticed a glint of light on Conner’s right hand. Conner ran his hand down his face, revealing a simple silvery band on his ring finger.

“I like your ring!” Pinky exclaimed. “Very pretty!”

Conner smiled sheepishly, a light blush over his cheeks. “Heh, thanks. Got married a month ago. Not really on the expensive side, but-”

“-but I bet you love each other very much!” Pinky said, giving Brain a nudge. “What do you think, Brain? Isn’t it just lovely?”

“Very,” Brain grunted, slapping Pinky’s hand off his shoulder.

Very extremely completely romantic indeed! Exchanging vows, slipping the rings on, the kissing and the cheering and the I do’s! Mounds of flowers and lots of food and dancing! And he couldn’t forget the bouquet toss! How could he forget the bouquet toss?

A sharp tug of his wrist brought him back to reality.

“This has been most enlightening,” Brain said, turning his back on Conner. “However, you have your objectives and we have ours. We’ll be on our way. Come, Pinky.”

As Brain led him back to the crowded parts of the mall, Pinky turned and waved to Conner. “Bye!” he called. “Have a nice day!”

Conner waved back, then he looked down and rifled through a stack of paper on the podium. “Hold on a sec!” he shouted, snatching up two small papers and running towards them. He had a much longer stride than them, so it only took seconds to catch up before they could rejoin the main walkway.

Pinky stopped in his tracks. Brain’s grumpy stomps came to a halt, but he wasn’t happy about the delay. His fingers tensed around Pinky’s wrist.

“I was saving these promotional coupons for some other time, but I figured I owed you for the trouble,” Conner explained, handing the coupons to Pinky. “Besides, it’s Free Burger Day. Might as well get the full American experience with your friend there.”

Reading through the info on both coupons, Pinky practically felt his eyeballs pop out of their sockets Looney Tunes style. Free cheeseburgers with a side of French fries? His tummy rumbled with hunger, and oh, where were his manners?

“Thanks so much!” Pinky exclaimed, hooking his arm around Brain’s, who made a surprised noise as he tried to read the coupons himself. He didn’t have the same excited reaction though. “Bye, Conner!”

With the coupons and Brain in hand, Pinky took off, darting around people’s feet, shopping bags, and the occasional stroller.  

Brain never had fast food before either! Sure, it could be unhealthy, but it was so delicious all the same! Besides, the wheel would help get rid of all the bad cholesterol anyway.

“Wait ‘til you see the food court, Brain! They’ve got all sorts of things there! I wish you could try them all, but we need money for that and Conner was so very nice to give us coupons for free burgers!” Pinky shouted above all the noise. “Oh, watch out for that gumball machine!”

“What?” Brain yelled back. He was looking down, short legs trying to match Pinky’s speed, and not watching where he was going. He slammed into the base of a gumball machine, wobbling back and forth as if he was following the movement of the pretty swirling stars that appeared whenever one was dizzy. Mumbling something in Selenian, he nearly wobbled into the path of a kid’s sneaker.

Pinky tucked the coupons under one arm and dragged Brain away before he was accidentally squashed again.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky said once Brain shook enough of the dizziness away to level a glare at him. Even with the sunglasses’ dark tint, Pinky felt those pink eyes boring into him. “I’ll slow down a bit?”

“See that you do,” Brain replied, shoving his hands into his denim pockets. “And no more hand-holding. As one of the future rulers of this world, I refuse to allow the public to see me being carted around like a dead weight.”

“How can a weight be dead if it wasn’t alive to begin with?” Pinky asked.

Brain shrugged. “I don’t know, Pinky. You seem to lug the one inside your head around just fine.”

Pinky rocked back and forth on his heels, preening at the praise. Oh, it was so nice for Brain to take notice of all the weightlifting he did with his batteries!

Brain didn’t comment, gaze fixed on a nearby giant map of the mall. Pinky couldn’t help but wonder what color Brain liked most on the map. He liked the light blue himself, and the green and pink and yellow too. He couldn’t leave out any of the colors. They were all so pretty.

“We’ll have to figure out a different way to obtain money. Not to mention contacting Snowball,” Brain said. “I hope you have ideas, Pinky. Though I reserve the right to take that statement back any time.”

Pinky held up the coupons. In truth, he really couldn’t think about anything but lunch. His stomach growled at the very thought of yummy burgers and fries!

“Food court?” he said hopefully. “This is your first time at a mall, Brain. What mall visit is complete without eating at the food court?”

Brain rubbed his temples, ears falling slightly in annoyance. “If we go, will you stop thinking with your stomach?”

“Nope!” Pinky said proudly. How could he possibly turn down a free burger? “ C’mon, food court’s on the second floor! Last one there’s a purple pickled egg!”

o-o-o-o-o

They took the elevator up, since it was much safer than the escalator and they wouldn’t have to scramble up a flight of stairs. Besides, the elevator was next to a pretty wishing fountain. The water was a beautiful light blue, a stone dolphin spewing water several feet into the air so that anyone nearby was showered with a fine mist.

The mice tucked themselves into a back corner, where the large glass window provided a clear view of people tossing their pennies into the fountain. They kept their tails close so that a stroller���s back wheels didn’t run them over in the tight space.

A young girl tossed a penny into a high arc, and it splashed down near the dolphin centerpiece.

“Narf! What a throw! Whatever she wishes for, it’s gonna come true for sure!” Pinky exclaimed as the elevator started to move. The family they shared the elevator with chatted among themselves, the adults facing forward while the boy lifted the cover of the stroller and made funny faces to the baby inside.

They seemed happy.

Like Mom and Papa when they chased each other around the cage. He hadn’t heard from Sis in a while either. He really oughta write back sometime.

“Pinky,” Brain said, cutting into his thoughts. He seemed uncomfortable, though Pinky wasn’t sure why. Maybe Brain just wasn’t used to elevators. “I don’t see how tossing something into a body of water can result in a wish coming true.”

“It can if you wish all your heart,” Pinky said. “That’s how you go to Dragon Land.”

“Satellite scans have revealed no such country named Dragon Land on this planet.” Brain looked away as the elevator came to a stop. The doors opened, and the humans piled out first. He and Brain followed, and the empty space behind them was quickly filled with other mallgoers. “Assuming we’re at our destination, it’s probably best for you to think with your stomach for a while.”

The scents of delicious food filled the air, and the scent trail of an extra cheesy pizza slice was especially strong. Pinky inhaled deeply, his stomach grumbling just like Brain.

“But you said-“

Brain watched somebody throw away a styrofoam container. “Only until we’re finished with the food court. Anyway, you’ve…um, well you’ve got a leak on your face.”

“Oh, not sure how that happened. I don’t remember eating leeks. Poit,” Pinky said, wiping away the leeks with the back of his hand. The skin was a little damp when he looked again.

Oh. Not leeks then. They were tears.

Thinking about his family usually did that to him.  

Just say narf.

He took a deep breath.

“We should procure ourselves a place to sit,” Brain suggested. He didn’t seem too keen on the lunch crowd. “Preferably a secluded area away from all this noise pollution.”

“Narf! I think there’s a few tables over there.” Pinky pointed to a chair that stuck out from behind a sub sandwich shop.

Surely enough, the tables were unoccupied when they went over to investigate.

A brief smile flitted across Brain’s face as he climbed onto the table. “Good work, Pinky,” he said as he sat down, feet swinging over the edge. “With my current observations, you have to exchange those coupons for our meals, correct?”

Pinky nodded.

“In that case, you grab our food and I’ll remain here.”

“It’s gonna take a little time, Brain,” Pinky admitted. The line for the burger place was at least ten people. Or one hundred. It was hard to tell from this distance. “You sure you don’t wanna stand in line with me?”

“I’ve been trampled once and had many near-misses today.” Brain crossed his arms. “I’m long overdue for some peace so I may ponder quietly to myself.”

The coupons crinkled slightly in Pinky’s hands. Brain couldn’t move with squished antennae, and his accidental crash into the gumball machine probably didn’t do him any favors. And of course there was the crash landing from just a few days ago.

Being alone again was…well, after meeting Brain he just couldn’t imagine it anymore. Pharfignewton was lovely and kind and fast, but she couldn’t live in the lab and he couldn’t live in the stables.

“If you say so.” Pinky turned to leave, then looked over his shoulder at Brain, who was lying on his back with his sunglasses still in position. He didn’t think they’d be very comfortable though. “Brain?”

“What?” Brain snapped.

“You’ll…you’ll still be here when I get back, right?” Pinky asked.

“I already told you, Pinky. I’m staying put. Now kindly allow me time to plan our next move.”

Pinky’s tail perked, and with a little more confidence and a skip in his step, he joined the burger line. Though the line was long, he didn’t mind. The long wait would just make the burgers tastier. He could already taste the melted cheese and sweet tomatoes.  

o-o-o-o-o

Ten minutes later, Pinky was only halfway to the counter. He tried to make small talk with the woman behind him, but she was too busy playing Candy Crush on her phone to hold a conversation. Then he tried to talk to the guy in front of him, but he had a headset on, the volume loud enough for everyone in earshot.

While Pinky wasn’t familiar with the punk rock scene, he thought the beat was pretty good, and his foot tapped along to the music.  

Another five minutes passed. Pinky was fifth in line, a gap between him and Headset Guy open so people could pass through easily.

He was close enough to the counter that he could easily hear the cashier explaining to a customer that one of the grills had gone out and they could only cook so much at a time. Was that all? Pinky didn’t see why she had to apologize for something she couldn’t help.

Pinky hummed quietly, lost in the music, occasionally glancing at the area where Brain said he’d be. Though he’d hoped Brain would keep him company in line, he knew Brain needed his rest too. It would do wonders for his dark bags and stress lines.

A high-pitched thwap-thwap-thwap made his ear flick. At first, he thought it was just an odd beat in Headset Guy’s music, but he turned it down so he could place his order. The noise continued, even when Pinky batted his ear like he was trying to clear water from his head. Something tiny and dark flitted around in the corner of his vision. Pinky looked up.

Next to the burger shop’s sign, a small black camera hovered with spinny propellors. It looked a lot like the camera that had bopped him in the head when he first met Brain. Maybe it was the same brand?

It had a silver ‘NS’ emblazoned on its side. Pinky couldn’t think of any logo that used NS.  

Oh, what if it was taking pictures? He wanted to look his best! Quickly, he adjusted the hem of his lavender blouse and posed like a supermodel walking down the red carpet. His blouse was a lovely piece of clothing after all.

The lens focused once, twice, then quickly zoomed towards the high ceiling and out of sight.

Maybe he should’ve worn a matching necklace.

“Next,” the cashier said as Headset Guy picked up his order and walked away.

His turn now! Pinky rolled up the coupons and tucked them under his arm, then climbed up a pole and onto the counter surface.

“Two burgers and fries please,” Pinky said to the cashier, whose smile didn’t reach her eyes. He slid the coupons over, and she tossed them onto a pile from previous customers. “And two waters as well. Oh, could I get those both in the kiddie cups? I really like the colors on those.”

The kiddie cups were a lovely shade of sunshine yellow with happy kiddos on them. He thought they looked nice.  

The cashier moved away without a word, mechanically filling up two colorful cups with ice and water and covering them with bright red lids. She left them by the water machine and went into the back, coming out with an almost bursting paper bag. Then she loaded it onto a paper-lined tray and pushed it towards Pinky, tossing two straws, a few ketchup packets, and a set of brown napkins onto the tray.

“Enjoy,” she mumbled.  

“Thanks!” Pinky grinned. “Oh, the waters are by the machine thingy. Troz!”

The cashier marched over to the cups, snatching them up and slamming them onto the tray with a loud bang that Pinky nearly fell off the counter in surprise. “Sorry…” she whispered, eyes downcast to the floor.

“It happens! Don’t worry. Thanks for your help!” Pinky said, but his reassurance didn’t seem to mean anything to her. She just stood there, ignoring the line’s shouts to get a move on. The woman behind Pinky didn’t seem to notice anything, her thumbs tapping away on her phone.

Pinky dragged the tray to the edge, only to run into a new problem. If he pushed the tray off, he would spill everything. And he didn’t want to drag the tray to the table either. That was just unsanitary.

“Oh…um…could you help me with the tray please?” Pinky asked. The cashier didn’t seem to notice. Pinky rubbed his neck, scuffing his foot against a taped down paper menu on the counter. “Sorry. Poit.”

Maybe one of the other mallgoers would help out? Pinky called for help to the people behind him, but nobody wanted to give up their place in line or just hadn’t heard him at all.

“Kelsey! What’s going on out there?” Another worker stomped up to the front, but when Kelsey didn’t reply, her stormy expression was quickly replaced with concern. She was an older woman with hair in a tight bun, and she struck Pinky as someone that shouldn’t be messed with. “Oh. You need a moment?”

Kelsey shook her head, staring vacantly at the wall. “Just one of those days, Paula. I’ll be fine.”  

She was definitely not okay though.

“You can take a moment if you want to. I don’t mind,” Pinky chimed in.

“What the little guy said,” Paula agreed, then shot Pinky a curious glance. “Ya need tray help? Seems a bit heavy for ya.”

Pinky nodded, stepping onto the paper-lined tray. “If you don’t mind.”

“Alright,” Paula clapped her hands, then picked up the tray and put it into Kelsey’s hands. “Kelsey, help this little guy out, then freshen up in the restroom.”

“What?” Kelsey yelped, her eyes widening to an almost comical degree. “Are you crazy? If Derek finds out-“

Paula shrugged. “Derek’s too busy cozying up to the rich jerk to ‘manage’ right now. And if he does turn up, I’ll cover ya.”

With that, she shoved Kelsey out of the workers’ area and took over her place as cashier, handling orders with ruthless efficiency.

“Narrrrf, she’s amazing,” Pinky said in awe.

“Better manager than Derek. Even without it being official,” Kelsey sighed in resignation. “Which way?”

Pinky pointed straight ahead. “Behind the sub shop. This is the first time my friend’s ever eaten a burger. I bet he’s just gonna love these!”

Kelsey didn’t press for details. She just walked ahead, balancing the tray in her hand and trying to not bump into people.

They found Brain curled up on the table, Pinky’s tail wagging on the cute little sight. Brain’s chest rose and fell, but even when Kelsey set the tray down, he didn’t respond.

Pinky was about to scold him for being rude, then he heard a high-pitched whistling sound.

He giggled. Brain was asleep and snoring again.

Though he really needed to learn not to sleep with sunglasses on. His fur would get all smushed.  

“Hey…sorry I snapped at you. And thanks.” Kelsey’s eyes were watery, and she dabbed at them with the back of her hand, trying to smile anyway.

“It’s okay!” Pinky said. “Thanks for the help. Now get yourself cleaned up and treat yourself to something nice later!”

Kelsey gave him a thumbs up and walked away.

Pinky waved goodbye until she was gone, then hopped out of the tray and gently shook Brain’s shoulders.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!” Pinky sang. “Before all the good eggs are gone and we’re just left with a pile of mush, Brain!”

Brain muttered something that could’ve been either ‘go away, Pinky’ or ‘lo mein, Binky’. Lo mein was definitely going on the list of foods Brain had to try. Really, how could Pinky have forgotten Chinese food of all things? It was so obvious now that he thought about it!

Instead of waking up, Brain rolled over and scratched his side.

Pinky put his hands on his hips. He needed to take more drastic measures.  

Crouching on all fours, Pinky slowly crept up to Brain, approaching him from the front to avoid being zapped by the tail orb.

Closer…just a little closer…perfect. Brain was completely unaware.

Pinky tensed his muscles, and on the count of one, two, and narf, he pounced.

“SCRIK!” Brain swore as Pinky’s hands landed on his chest. With a startled gasp, he sat up quickly, the sunglasses pushed up to his large forehead. The sudden motion made Pinky lose his balance, his head landing in Brain’s lap.

“Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty!” Pinky grinned up at his best friend.

Brain’s cheeks reddened. He pushed Pinky off, quickly hiding his eyes behind his sunglasses. He folded his arms grumpily. “I wasn’t sleeping. I was sleep-pondering. There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?” Pinky asked. He hopped to his feet and skipped over to the tray.

“It’s too…complicated for your feeble mind to comprehend, I’m afraid,” Brain replied. He didn’t look Pinky in the eye, focusing on the tiny print on a ketchup packet instead. “Yes. Very complicated.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Pinky nodded. He tipped the bag onto its side, dragging the burgers out by their wrappers. “You don’t know what the difference is either, do you?”  

Caught in his little fib, Brain went silent.

He ignored Pinky and unfolded one of the burger wrappers, tearing off a small piece of the bun and sampling it. Then he shrugged. Not bad, but not spectacular either. But it was the inside part of the burger that really counted.

Pinky brought out both cartons of French fries, popping a small one into his mouth. Crunchy and salty, just how fries were supposed to be.

Since the cups were bigger than both of them, Brain unwrapped the straws and punctured the lids with one end while Pinky tilted and held them in place.

Their little dining setup was complete. Though they didn’t have any scented candles, Pinky pretended there was a vanilla-scented one next to the tray, its sweet fragrance wafting in the air.

Licking his lips, Pinky unwrapped his burger and took a large chomp out of it. The taste of cheese, beef, and tomatoes flooded his mouth. “Narrrrf,” he hummed in delight, wiping away a spot of mustard on his chin. “How’s yours, Brain?”

Brain had only eaten part of the top bun so far. Instead, he pulled the contents out one at a time and took small, cautious bites. He didn’t seem to mind the mustard, and most of the ingredients he seemed to like just fine. He was indifferent to the lettuce.

Then he got his first taste of a pickle, and his antennae orbs sparked violently. Pinky laughed at the comically fast speed Brain spat out a pile of green mush. He snatched up a napkin and wiped his tongue on it, sounding very much like a cat hacking up a hairball.

“Drink some water. It’ll get rid of it faster than the napkin. And also cause you’re just gonna wind up eating whatever napkins are made out of. Trust me. You don’t want that,” Pinky suggested.

Brain took his advice, making loud slurping noises with his straw, then finally calmed down.

“Cease your laughter, Pinky,” Brain grumbled as he removed the rest of the pickles from his burger and threw them in Pinky’s direction. They landed next to Pinky’s fries. “And take these disgusting so-called edibles off my hands.”

“Will do!” Pinky tossed two pickles into his mouth. “Hey, so what’s the grossest food they had on New Selene? There’s gotta be something too icky for us poor little Earthlings to understand!”

Brain hesitated. “Perhaps I shouldn’t say. I’d hate to spoil your abnormally large appetite.”

“Never in a million billion eight hundred trozillion years!” Pinky gasped, putting a hand over his heart. He’d always wanted to do that! It was so much fun being dramatically offended.

“If you insist. But I warned you, so don’t try to claim otherwise,” Brain said.  

Pinky tore open a ketchup packet and squirted it onto the burger wrapper, then motioned for Brain to continue. Brain slid his ketchup packets over to Pinky. There were a lot of things that went on French fries, but Brain seemed to like them plain.

“Cuisine on the colony was made to be sustainable for long periods of time. Because survival was more valued, flavors and variability were often lacking. I would describe food on New Selene as more bland than outright disgusting,” Brain explained. “But to humor your question, there’s an aquatic species called dholmuth from the imperial planet which can be caught and used for food. However, it’s only attempted by the foolish or the desperate. No sane being wants to deal with a delicacy that smells like the unholy combination of fuel exhaust and rotting corpses.”

Pinky wrinkled his nose.

Brain shrugged. “I warned you.”

“Alrighty, so what’s the most delicious, positively scrumptious thing you ever ate in space?” Pinky asked.

“Rusuphri,” Brain said without hesitation. “They were in the bag you found with me.”

He looked away, the half-eaten French fry in his hand wilting along with his posture.

Pinky snapped his fingers in recognition. “Right! The blue star candies! They were very sweet. I get why you like them so much!”  

“Actually, they’re seeds, not candy, though I understand how…wait, how do you know they taste sweet?” Brain asked suspiciously. “Did you eat any from the bag?”

There was a dangerous edge in his voice.

“I…well, I ate a few that got scattered around the ship before I found you. It was a bit of a mess, really. But I never touched the bag. Honest!” Pinky held up his hands. “I’m sorry if they were important to you.”

Should he have not done that? There were so many, and they seemed so tasty. And the walk back from seeing Pharfignewton off had left him a little peckish, so he’d given into his hunger. Biting his lip, Pinky waited for the scolding that was sure to come.

Brain pushed his burger away.

It was only half-eaten.

“…Snowball found those rusuphri bags just before our departure from New Selene,” Brain said quietly. “I was going to split the remaining one with him upon our reunion. My apologies for accusing you.”

“You’re excused,” Pinky said, sighing in relief. He wasn’t going to lose his best friend over his own stupid actions. He was just grateful for that.

Pinky finished off his burger, licking the last bits of mustard off his fingers. He started on his remaining fries while Brain cleaned his hands with a napkin.

“Brain, aren’t you gonna eat the rest?” Pinky asked. “I didn’t make your tummy upset with me too, right?”

“Enough with your ridiculous notions, Pinky.” Brain shook his head, reclining against the tray’s raised edge. One hand rested across his pudgy stomach, rubbing a soothing circle into it. “I can’t eat anymore. That’s all. There was simply too much for just one sitting.”

Pinky made a loud slurping noise with his straw as he sipped his drink. “Zort! Really? This was just a small burger! Good thing they weren’t putting the largest ones on the coupon, huh?”

“Small?” Brain’s brow lifted in disbelief. “How does one categorize this meal as small?”  

Pinky pointed to a man eating a burger that was triple the size of what they had. “Ooh, so that’s the triple bacon cheeseburger,” Pinky said. It had been advertised on TV a lot as a new addition to the menu. “Looks tasty.”

Brain’s mouth flopped open, like he’d never seen food that large in his life. “Your portion sizes are messed up.”

“Thanks. It’s an American staple. Just like burgers!” Pinky exclaimed. “If you’re not gonna eat the rest, can I have it?”

Brain made no motion to stop him, so Pinky figured it was okay to take the rest. He squirted ketchup onto the bun of the half-eaten burger and dug in.

“Should I be concerned over the state of your stomach later?” Brain asked.

“Don’t worry, Brain! I can handle it easy-peasy!” he tried to say, but it came out very muffled and with bits of tomato juice spraying from the side of his mouth.

“Clearly, your stomach is not your only vital organ that bears worrying about.”

o-o-o-o-o

Once they recovered from full stomachs, they went back to finding a hat for a snowball—no wait, that wasn’t right—finding a hat for himself and Snowball for Brain. But first, they had to stop in the play area!

It was filled with plastic structures of rocks, boats, fish, and water. There was even a lighthouse and a beach! All right here in the local mall! And of course there were the screaming, playful toddlers and parents who just seemed plain bored and weren’t paying any attention to their charges.

“La-la-la-la! Don’t you wanna play too, Brain? Look, I’m king of the world! Narf!” Pinky stood atop the highest point of a plastic blue tugboat, spreading his arms wide and leaning forward. He could just feel the wind and seaspray in his face!

“Pinky, you’re posing on a child’s imitation of aquatic transport.” Brain seemed just as zoned out as the human adults around him. “And don’t mock my rightful title with your childish playtime.”

“I’m not mocking, Brain,” Pinky said. “King of the world’s just the name of this pose!”

That seemed to get Brain’s attention. He slid off the bench, barely dodging a blonde-haired toddler who seemed intent on escaping the play area altogether.

“Is that a common pose for Terran royalty?” Brain asked. He climbed up the side of the tugboat, slipping a little as he tried to grasp its smooth surface. Pinky hopped down from his perch next to the little red steam whistle and offered his hand to Brain.

After a moment’s hesitation, he took it and Pinky hauled him up.

“Not really, but it’s pretty fun to do!” Pinky said.

Brain stood at Pinky’s former place by the plastic steam whistle, and Pinky balanced in the narrow space behind him.

“It’s protocol to stand in the highest position so that one may assert superiority over the population,” Brain declared.

“Oh, that’s very good, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. At his praise, Brain’s antennae perked. “Now spread your arms out wide like you’re giving the air a great big hug!”

Slowly, Brain spread his arms out. “And what purpose does this serve?”

“To make you look more royal of course!” Pinky said. “Though you’re more off-white in this lighting than royal blue.”

The corner of Brain’s mouth quirked up. Yes, now he saw the appeal too!

“Behold, I am the Brain! One of the future mighty kings of this world!” the shorter mouse announced, arms held triumphantly out to his sides. Below them, the children paid no mind and continued playing. The adults didn’t care either.

Well, if they didn’t know how awesome his friend was, then he’d just have to show them!

Far beyond the skylight, a cloud moved away from the sun, a beam of light shining down just in front of them. It was perfect timing!

Pinky lifted a startled Brain beneath his outstretched arms, hoisting him as high as he could.  

“IT’S THE CIRRRRRRRCLE OF LIFE!” Pinky belted out.

“UNHAND ME AT ONCE, PINKY!” Brain screamed, his feet kicking out in little circles. He suddenly lunged to the right, and he and Pinky tumbled off the tugboat.

They collided painfully with the ground. Shaking the tingly feeling away from his lower jaw, Pinky cleared the swirling stars from his vision. Brain had landed a few inches away, face-first. He groaned as he lifted his head, the left lens of his sunglasses popping out.

“This pain will surely linger,” Brain muttered. He took off the ruined sunglasses and set it aside, where it was immediately snatched up a young boy, who ran off cackling with the broken frame on the bridge of his nose. “You’ve had your fun, Pinky. It’s time we got back to-“

A faraway melody made Pinky’s ears twitch. It wasn’t coming from the play area. Then a woman started to sing about breaking up with her boyfriend, though Pinky couldn’t place the specific song. There were a lot of boyfriend and breakup songs out there.

“-and we haven’t been to the third floor yet. Perhaps there will be something of value—where’s that horrible racket coming from?” Brain scowled as the woman hit a high note that was far beyond her voice range.

But she sounded like she was having fun, and that was the most important element in karaoke!

“That’s no tennis racket, Brain! That’s karaoke!” Unable to contain himself, Pinky tucked Brain under his arm and shot off like a rocket, following the trail of music to its source, which turned out to be an electronics store.

Upon seeing all the technology behind glass, Brain’s pink eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and his demands to be released stopped instantly.

“I can’t believe you have all these devices lying around like this…” he murmured. “It pales in comparison to Selenian tech of course, but this is much more advanced than what I was expecting.”  

As much as Pinky loved playing with the apps, they were here for another reason entirely. Namely, the TV screen displaying a karaoke program just a short distance away from the entrance.

The woman who’d been singing earlier set the microphone on its stand and walked away, leaving the area up for grabs. Pinky set Brain down, and he darted away, climbing up a display table. His face scrunched up in pondering mode as he examined a smartphone much larger than he was.

Scrambling up to the microphone, Pinky spotted an open songbook nearby with a ginormous list of songs from just about every decade. Egad, there were a lot of options! How could he choose just one?

Instead of flipping through every page, Pinky closed his eyes and shut the songbook. Then he opened it to a random page, and placed his finger on a spot without peeking.

There. He’d sing whatever song this was.

He opened his eyes.

“AHHHHHH! BRAIN, I GOT A GOOD ONE!” Pinky screamed. Brain’s ears flicked in irritation, but Pinky paid no mind and inputted the matching number onto the microphone buttons. Since the mike was too big for him to hold, he swiveled it down to his level.

Best part was that his hands were free for dancing!

He hit the start button, his hips and tail swaying along to the catchy opening riff.

Ooh, see that girl! Watch that scene!

Diggin’ the dancing queen!

Pinky’s foot tapped in rhythm, and he lost himself to the melody.

He was at prom, and his all his friends were cheering him as he made his debut on the dance floor. Low lighting, a shining disco ball spinning above and creating a swirl of light circles around the venue. Everyone in handsome tuxedos and gorgeous dresses, some dancing, some eating at the buffet, and some were wallflowers shyly seeking out a dance.

He wore a beautiful floor-length pink dress, the skirt sweeping around with every graceful movement he made. A silver necklace rested just above the V-neck, a white corsage around his left wrist. And he felt absolutely beautiful.

He danced, and everyone was mesmerized. Everyone wanted to dance alongside him, and he turned no request down, because prom night was meant to be fun and he wanted to make everyone happy!

There was one wallflower who didn’t join in though. Nobody asked him to dance, and he made no invitations either. Just standing there with his arms folded against his chest. But his tuxedo was nicely pressed, a corsage pinned to his chest.

Pinky wanted to make this night magical for him too.

So he invited Brain to dance.

Brain stared at Pinky’s inviting hand. He blushed, slowly placing his hand in Pinky’s.

And dance they did. They commanded all the attention.

Pinky’s graceful movements contrasted with Brain’s sharper ones. The spotlight was on them. Their audience was captivated.

They were called to the stage. And they were crowned king and queen of the dance.

Brain gave him a genuine smile, and together they danced in celebration.

o-o-o-o-o  

He finished the song to raucous applause. When Pinky opened his eyes, he was surrounded by a crowd of people on all sides. They cheered loudly and started calling for song requests. One man took off his blue baseball cap and set it upside down next to Pinky, and the audience tossed in dollar bills and quarters.

“Egad, a hat for me?” Pinky wiped a happy tear away, flicking his hand down bashfully. “You shouldn’t have! But as my thanks for being such a lovely group, how ‘bout some song requests?”

Over the next fifteen minutes, he performed Footloose, Don’t Stop Believin’, and Accidentally in Love.

He’d drawn Brain’s attention by the end of the third song. With some difficulty, he squeezed through the packed audience and climbed up the stand where Pinky stood.

Oh, maybe they could duet together! That would just be lovely! Pinky flipped through the songbook for any duets, but Brain grabbed his snout and yanked him down before he could decide.  

“Pinky, this isn’t getting us any closer to our goal!” Brain snapped. “We can’t laze about here all afternoon!”

Pinky giggled as his nose pressed against Brain’s face. Brain reeled back in surprise, his antennae sparking when he realized how close they were.

“Narf! I’ve got my hat, Brain. I’m just singing as thanks to everyone!” Pinky said. “So I achieved my goal exactly as you said. And now I finally have a hat so I can properly root for Pharfignetwon!”

“So you did, Pinky,” Brain sighed. “A most unorthodox way of accomplishing your objective, but at least this will put you a step closer to striving towards something much larger. Now we just have to find a way to contact Snowball. Fortunately, this store may have parts that will enable me to create a tracker. The money you’ve earned should be sufficient enough.”

He gestured to the cap, which was now overflowing with cash.

“But I can have the cap?” Pinky asked.

Brain nodded. “Yes, Pinky. You may have the cap. Now, we must take our leave.”

He grabbed the cap by its brim, dragging it to the edge of the table before Pinky stopped him. “Hold on a sec, Brain,” Pinky said, tugging the cap back before Brain could push it off the edge. “Since you’re here, you wanna sing a duet with me? Please? Then we can go find Snowball together!”

Brain’s fingers tightened around the brim. “I don’t sing, Pinky. There was…no need for it on the colony. It served little importance to scientific endeavors. Besides, we came to conquer, not pursue singing careers.”

There was a tinge of…bitterness? No, not bitterness. More like embarrassment.

“Brain? Do you like music?” Pinky asked.

Brain let go of the brim and stared out into the crowd, who waited impatiently for Pinky to begin a new song. Then Brain looked down, his cheeks flushed, and he gave the tiniest of nods.

“I’m not a singer though,” Brain muttered.

“You don’t have to be to just sing,” Pinky said. “You can let loose!”

Brain shook his head. “There’s an audience here, Pinky. I’m not doing it.”

Pinky went to the songbook and flipped the pages until he found the duet he was looking for. He still really wanted to do one, but he didn’t want to make his best friend uncomfortable either. “Well, I still really wanna pick a duet, but you don’t have to sing. Just feel free to join in if you want.”

“I won’t,” Brain said stubbornly. He sat down with his back against the crowd, a short distance away from Pinky and the microphone. “But I suppose your offer is acceptable. One more song, and then we purchase the parts I need for a tracker with that money.”

“Okey-dokey, Brain. Zort!” Pinky typed in the matching number, and the song title appeared onscreen.  The songs he’d picked earlier were all high energy and fun. This one was slower, more tender.

And he really wanted to sing for Pharfignewton so she’d hear him. Horses had excellent hearing after all.

Pinky turned to the audience. “Everyone, you’ve all been great. I have to go after this, but I just wanted to dedicate my last song to my girlfriend Pharfignewton. She’s a marvelous mare who’s dreamed of winning the Triple Crown since she was just a young filly. We love each other a lot, and I miss her so much, but I know she’s gonna do great out there in the Derby!”

The crowd made sympathetic cooing noises. Several people had their phones out to record.

“And I also want to dedicate this song to a missing friend of a friend. We don’t know where he is exactly, but I just know they’re gonna be super happy when they find each other again.”

Brain gave him a surprised look, which melted into one of gratitude.

The opening notes for Somewhere Out There played. Pinky took a deep breath and poured his entire heart into the melody.

Somewhere out there

Beneath the pale moonlight

Someone’s thinking of me

And loving me tonight

Pinky caught Brain’s eye, but the alien quickly returned his gaze to the screen, which displayed a beautiful Hawaiian beach at nighttime.

He hoped Pharfignewton was thinking of him.

Pharfignewton had to be almost to Kentucky now. If she won the Derby, then she would move onto other horse races, photoshoots, and interviews. Not to mention all the eating and sleeping so she could be at her best.

Sometimes, Pinky wished she could’ve stayed. But she had a career ahead of her. And so he let her go.

And when they reunited, they’d make up for lost time.  

He sang the other singer’s part too, watching Brain in case he changed his mind. He seemed content with listening though, so Pinky let him be.  

Somewhere out there

If love can see us through

Then we'll be together

Somewhere out there

Out where dreams come true

Pinky caught his breath as the instrumental began. All this singing was making his throat dry, but he had to finish his song.

He wondered if Brain would ever introduce him to Snowball. Maybe the three of them could be besties!

The refrain started again. Pinky poured his soul into it, hoping they could find Snowball soon.

And the song drew to a close. Pinky’s throat tickled, so the last lyric was quiet rather than loud.

“…out where dreams come true.”

That was Brain’s voice. Deeper, hesitant, and whispering, but he harmonized well with Pinky’s higher vocals. Brain sang beautifully. It felt like being entrusted with a secret only the closest friends shared.

Though everyone clapped for Pinky, none of them heard Brain. The lyric was meant for him and Brain alone.

“Come, Pinky. We must make haste,” Brain said. He stood up, taking Pinky by the wrist and leading him to the table’s edge.  

“Righty-o, Brain! Bye, everyone! Love you all!” Pinky waved goodbye to their captivated audience, then grabbed the cap’s brim, dragging it along behind him.

Brain tensed, ready to leap from the table to the ground. Then a flicker of movement by the store sign caught Pinky’s attention. Was the neon sign broken? They should really fix them.

But it wasn’t a broken, blinking neon sign. The color was too dark for that.

Pinky leaned back, trying to see what the mysterious thing was. It could easily be a bird, a plane, or Superman.

He leaned too far, and instead of a graceful leap, he and Brain tumbled to the ground. All the money spilled out around them, the cap landing on top of them.

“Pinky, I don’t care if you want to fall from moderately elevated platforms, but don’t drag me down with you!“ Brain snapped as he shoved Pinky away. He crawled out from underneath the cap, flipping it upside down and tossing the spilled money inside.

“Sorry, Brain. I was just trying to see where that dark thingy went,” Pinky said, scooping up a handful of coins and dropped them into the cap. Now that their audience was gone, it was much easier to see everything.

Including the flying camera just hovering around the entrance. The mini blades whirled above the main body, which had a silvery ‘NS’ on its side.  

“Oh, that’s what I saw! Hi, Mr. Flying Camera! Narf!” Pinky waved to the flying camera, which shrank the size of its lens, almost like it was glaring at him.

“Mr. Flying Cam-“ Brain’s scoff cut short as he looked up. His pink eyes grew huge and round. “Pinky, that’s…that’s Selenian tech. The NS is a New Selene trademark.”

“A long way from home then, isn’t it?” Pinky asked.

Brain ignored Pinky’s question. Slowly, he walked towards the camera, his hand reaching out, expecting the camera to come to him.

But it flew outside the store instead, dodging any obstacles in its path.

“Come back!” Brain shouted, and he took off after the flying camera. Though he couldn’t fly himself, he dodged every foot and stroller in his dogged pursuit.  

He never noticed Pinky.

“Brain, wait for me! Brain!” Pinky yelled. But the camera and Brain turned a corner and disappeared.

He tried to drag the cap and money behind him, but it only slowed him down. He’d never catch up to them.

Unless…

“Sorry, Pharfignewton,” Pinky whispered. He ran off, leaving the desired objects behind.

Someone would find a cap and lots of money. It would make their day brighter. He found comfort with that.

o-o-o-o-o

He found Brain outside a side entrance. The alien dropped to his knees, looking up into the afternoon sky.

There was no sign of the camera anywhere.

“Brain?” Pinky said. “Where’s the camera?”

Brain’s mouth trembled as he tried to stifle a stream of tears. But they came anyway, spilling down his drooping cheeks like twin waterfalls. His eyes bored through Pinky, like he couldn’t really see him. Pinky pulled him in for a hug, gently stroking the back of his large head.

For once, Brain didn’t protest, and he clung to Pinky like a lifeline.

“Gone,” Brain choked out.

End AN: CHAPTER COMPLETE. WHOO.

Naming minor OCs is surprisingly hard to do.

I used to really love Dragon Tales as a kid so I shouted out to Dragon Land here.

I fully admit to just conveniently declaring a Free Burger Day with a coupon cause the mice don’t have money. I have god powers and I do what I want. And I declare the mice deserve burgers.

The karaoke here is a program called Magic Sing, which is what I grew up with. Trust me, Filipinos adore their karaoke. Basically, you hook the microphone to a TV, and you input a number code into the microphone to bring up a song. For instance, 0001 brings up Elvis Presley’s All Shook Up.  

Pinky has some abandonment issues.

Give them hugs. They need them.