#message after he sent me the newest ask so i almost avoided it for another few hours but no because i stupidly replied 😔

[rendoa-blog]

wistfully night-daydreaming about what if Undertale but the gimmick is they have access to the multiverse and cosplay other aus and just do small things like Sans messes with people, Papyrus helps others with small jobs, Alphys leaves around some notes and blueprints she made in other labs for the other Alphi to find, Undyne trains rookies, Asgore goes around schools and places, Toriel takes care of the Ruins flora and reads to children, Napstablook doesn't feel up to it right now, MadMewMew spreads their trans agenda, Flowey is just very intrigued and uses it all to gather information, Frisk befriends people and does their hangout events, Mettaton signs random autographs and quality checks the MTT resorts, Grillby gets food for those who need it, Muffet sets up stands in spots she knows she usually doesn't sell things, the annoying dog is setting up more shrines somewhere, Temmie is leaving around tem flakes

And they usually aren't at their own au, Blook and Alphys are, because they work in there, but others live in places that, while beautiful, oftentimes are just a passing thing as they go from au to au, spreading their individual ideas in their different looks they steal from others

They can all change their bodies slightly, like, for example, Papyrus can change how sharp his features look, Sans has LED eyelights that can have any color he wants, and they can all just change their physical attributes slightly to fit more with the aus and shit idk I really like this silly idea, like, some newbie at the guard goes like "Omg so yesterday I met Undyne and she offered to spar me it was so cool!!!" and their friend goes "...wasn't Undyne in Snowdin yesterday???" and the first guy thinks he hallucinated it, but no, he didn't, it was cosplaydyne /j

[rocorambles]

Surprise Interview

Pairing: Kenma x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation

Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.

A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~

There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.

Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.

However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.

You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.

Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.

You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.

Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.

(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)

Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.

There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.

You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.

But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.

He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.

Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.

You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.

He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.

But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.

“Kozume, do you want to play-”

“Just call me Kenma.”

Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.

“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”

You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.

It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.

If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.

He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.

It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.

“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”

“Kenma not you too!!!”

His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.

“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”

There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there���s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.

“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”

You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.

It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.

It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.

“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”

There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.

But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.

He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…

Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.

“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”

He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.

But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.

Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.

“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.

It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

It’s your rejection.

It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.

And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.

“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”

He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.

“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”

“That’s not true! They love me-”

“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”

You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.

“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”

He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”

If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.

But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.

“You really are made for this, aren’t you?”

You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.

There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.

You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.

How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?

That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.

But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.

Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.

“Kenma! No! Too much-”

You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.

You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.

But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.

He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.

There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...

Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.

You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.

Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.

“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”

[dindjarins04]

Written In The Blood Of Him

SITH!Obi-Wan X FEM!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Angst. That's it because I don't write fluff-

Summary: In a world when Obi-Wan becomes the Emperor, the reader spends her life running away and avoiding him, trying not to get caught by him.

Request rules here

Prompt list here

Main masterlist here

Obi-Wan Kenobi masterlist here

With a smile plastered on your face, you proudly walk into the bridge of your starship. The Clone Wars was almost over; you can feel it. You couldn't wait for you and Obi-Wan to leave the Order and finally live your lives without hiding it. No more chaste kisses in the halls or secretive visits during the nights. You can finally live the life you've always wanted. You knew Anakin was doing the same with Padme once the war was over.

"Commander," You turned to see your Clone Captain walk up to you.

"It's almost over," You say, relishing in your newest victory that only got the war closer and closer to the end with the Republic winning.

"Yes...I can practically see your excitement radiating off you," You nod.

"Viktor...what are you going to do when the war's over?" He laughs, coming to stand next to you, watching the stars fly by whilst in hyperspace.

"I don't know...maybe stay and do patrols...or maybe settle down,"

"You should settle down...after all...the war is finished,"

"But what if another one starts? They'll need me-"

"Viktor...you have fought in every war by my side...it's time for you to hang your helmet and gun up and settle. And if a new one starts, let the thousands of Clones still left to fight it," He smiles fondly.

"That sounds nice," He replies and you beam.

"Of course it does. No need to worry about any clankers...no more pain or betrayal...just a normal life,"

"Don't get sappy on me now, Commander," You laugh loudly before another clone steps in the bridge.

"Captain, we have an incoming message from Coruscant," Viktor turns to you with a smile.

"Do you want to come? Maybe something about the war," You smile.

"You go...I'll stay here," He nods, placing a friendly kiss on your cheek before following his fellow clones. You turn back around the face the front. You close your eyes before a headache consumes you along with the sound of lightsabers igniting. You almost fall over as you try and steady yourself, grabbing onto the handlebar not too far from you. Your other hand holds your head as voices fill your head.

"Why?"

"Don't you see...this is the path that is made for us,"

"You're wrong!"

"The Jedi are wrong!"

"I don't want to hurt you!"

"Then join me,"

"I can't,"

"Anakin~"

"No...no...this is wrong...I...I can't do this!"

"NO!"

You let out a shaky breath, the voices, gone, but your dread only growing. "Obi-Wan~" You say breathlessly before running back to the doors Viktor came through.

"Execute Order 66~"

"Yes, Lord Kenobi," You run through the doors just as the hologram disappears.

"Viktor...I think there's something wrong with Obi-Wan..." You notice as he shakes in place, the helmet that was tucked beneath his arm falls to the ground, the sound deafening. "Viktor?" You ask cautiously, taking a step forward but he quickly turns, two blasters trained on you. "Viktor?"

"S...Stay away!" You furrow your brows, raising your hands as one of his hands that still hold a blaster come to his head, trying to cradle it.

"What's happening?" Suddenly, all clones surrounding you fix their blasters on you.

"All the Jedi have been accused of treason...they must be executed...but not you...Lord Kenobi wishes for your safe return,"

"Yeah...because those blasters in my face make me feel so safe," A clone pulls a trigger and you manage to block the shot; it was a stun. You couldn't stay here. So you ran. Ran as fast as you could. You manage to get to the escape pods and leave, trying to comm Anakin but the signal was blocked.

~~~

"Sorry, my lord, she escaped before we could capture her," Viktor says as Obi-Wan walks to the bridge of the starship. "We sent out a team to find her, so far, we've had nothing,"

"It's been hours since she's departed, a small team of clones won't find her," He says, picking up a discarded clone helmet from the ground with a lightsaber gash through it. "What happened here?"

"She brought down her sabers upon us...she was acting on self-defence," He drops the helmet and turns to Viktor who wears his helmet.

"Place a bounty on Anakin Skywalker and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and for them to be returned to me unharmed,"

"Yes, my lord," Viktor says.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an Empire to rule," Viktor steps aside with a tight nod as Obi-Wan walks past him, his dark robes flowing past with such aggression.

~~~

It's been years. So long. So much pain and trying so hard to stay hidden from him. It's not easy, but you've managed. You've wanted to help out with fighting back against the Empire, but he'd find you. The moment you ignite your saber, he'd find you. The second you reach out in the force, he'll find you. But you found the rebels and was happy when they took you in. Well, Kanan did. He knew you. He gladly accepted you and your intelligence.

"So...what do you know about the Empire?" He asked.

"Not much...I've had to be in hiding these past few years so Obi-Wan wouldn't find me... it's the same story with Anakin...all I know is he killed Palpatine and gained control of the Empire...he's the big boss. He didn't want to be someone's slave so he took the role on himself. Fortunately for us, he's obsessed with capturing me or Anakin meaning we have an advantage...you have bait,"

"We don't trade lives here,"

"I'm not saying hand me over, I'm saying use me to your advantage whilst I'm around...have his missions he's leading go wrong because of me. He'll drop everything just to get to me,"

"Urm...how are you so confident that will happen?" Ezra asks.

"Because I'm his lover,"

"Oh...okay then," Ezra blushed slightly, his hand scratching the back of his head.

"I don't like the idea of that...but okay...if you're as stubborn as I remember...there's no way out of this," You smile and nudge Kanan playfully.

"This is where the fun begins,"

~~~

You eventually became family with the rebels. You were the one everyone went to when something went wrong. Ezra looked up to you as a guide within the force and so did Kanan. You were like Sabine's older sister, there for her to rant or help her dye and cut her hair. You and Hera were like sister's, she came to you for help and you also went to her for help. She rarely needed your help considering how independent she was but the others almost relied on you. Zeb saw you as a little sister though. He took care of you and you ranted at him when everything got a bit too much for you. And Chopper, well, was Chopper. Though, you're pretty sure he has a soft spot for you.

You were in the middle of finishing doing Sabine's hair when Ezra burst through.

"(Y/N)!"

"Yes?" You ask, doing the last cut with her hair.

"Urm...someone is here to see you," You brush through her hair.

"Who?"

"You need to see for yourself," You groan before standing up and following, Sabine admiring her hair in the mirror.

"Ezra, I was having fun, if this is not worth it-"

"Oh, I hope I'm worth a smudge of your time,"

"ANI!" You throw yourself into his arms, tears already building in your eyes. He catches you with ease, holding you tightly. He allows his tears to fall freely as he holds you tightly.

"I'm glad you're still alive," He mumbles as he puts you down, his hands planted on your waist.

"I've missed you," You say as one of his hands moves to swipe one of your tears away. "Where have you been?"

"Hiding...you?"

"Same...scuttling in the shadows like a rat," He chuckles slightly before embracing you again. "Did you know what happened?"

"Yes..." He looks at everyone surrounding you two. "Can we go somewhere private?" You nod, guiding him to your room. You settle on your bed and he does as well, crossing his legs.

"So...it happened whilst I was on a mission...after I killed Grevious...correct?"

"Yes...I noticed how Obi-Wan seemed differently lately...distant and how he wasn't listening to the Council as much as he usually would. You must've noticed. I found out that Palpatine was the Sith Lord playing from both sides. As soon as he told me, I commed everyone, my lightsaber at his neck. But just as I finished contacting Obi-Wan, he attacked me. My saber fell from my hand and when I tried to use the Force to get it back, he sliced it with his lightsaber...destroying mine. I was able to recover my kyber before I was at his mercy. He told me about this plan, how I was supposed to be his apprentice and fall to the dark side...he was beyond annoyed when he figured I would never fall there. I might've fallen from the Order and he knew my anger towards the Jedi, but it wasn't enough for me to be a Sith lord. That's when Obi-Wan came in...he rushed in and activated his saber and I sighed in relief and that's when Palpatine just laughed. I looked at him, confused and that's when Obi-Wan angled his saber towards me...I was at both of their mercy. I looked at him with heartbreak...I still feel the hurt of his betrayal. I felt my heart crack. Whilst they talked...I couldn't hear them, my head was ringing...my heart pounding in my head...then Obi-Wan began to almost beg for me to join them...but I couldn't. Palpatine then fell to the ground after sending out Order...67? 66? I don't remember but Obi-Wan killed him afterwards and became the big bad Sith Lord. I managed to escape while he was distracted. I was still in Coruscant when he...he publically executed Padme for crimes she did not commit. And then he turned the Republic into the first Galactic Empire...and any control Palpatine had was passed to Obi-Wan. After that...he set out a bounty for you and me...these days the price is so overwhelming bounty hunters are teaming up and agreeing to split it 5 ways..."

You felt tears resurface...you never knew this. All you knew was Viktor tried to kill you and Obi-wan was the bad guy. You never understood anything else. You leaned forward to hug Anakin again and he grabbed you tightly, pulling you onto his lap and burying his face in the crook of your neck, tears silently falling from him.

"I never knew that happened~"

~~~

"I'm surprised he decided to join this battle!" You say to Kanan as you shoot stormtroopers and he uses his saber to deflect.

"Well...so am I...maybe he's gotten annoyed with us Rebels he decided to end us himself,"

"Ezra, is the Ghost ready?"

"Yes, come on!" He says back through the comms. You and Kanan suddenly dropped when a TIE Began firing at you, blocking your path to the Ghost. Kanan and you share a look before the blaster bolts stop. You both slowly pop your head over the crates you were taking cover behind.

"Caleb Dume," Your heart falters as you duck beneath the crates. "You and your forces have fought bravely and have won many battles, but this time...you have lost," Kanan releases a shaky breath as he stands up.

"And what makes you think that?" He asks, gathering confidence to speak to the Emperor. He smirks and motions to the stormtroopers behind him.

"You have wiped out my stormtroopers, behind me stand clones, not troopers. They've been here since the clone wars. They are experienced and they outnumber your forces. Hand yourself and the boy over, and your family will live...unless they cause more trouble than their worth,"

"Spoken well," You say as you stand beside Kanan. You watch as he visibly freezes in place. His black robes seem to also stop swaying in the wind. "Esh...black isn't your colour," You then watch as a clone approaches the front.

"Sir, should we-?"

"Shut up," He raises a hand, unsure what to do or say to you. Kanan moves his foot to tap his on your three times, a sign you two have come up with. You tap back twice as you both stare at the Emperor. "(Y/N)," He finally says. "You're hard to find," He says as the clones lift their blasters, all except one who stands next to him. "But here you are, scuttling with these rebels?"

"Took you long enough to figure that out," He chuckles, his eyes holding slight sadness.

"Kill Caleb...bring me (Y/N)," He says and the clones run past him, all but one. In sync, Kanan and you use the force to push the first few away before running to the Ghost not far away.

"We're almost there-"

"Stop-" You stop him and motion to a ship hanging from the top of the railings they're running through. Kanan gets the idea and helps bring the ship on top of the approaching clones. Once the ship has crashed, you Kanan slow to a jog to the Ghost. You see Sabine and Ezra on top of the ramp. Just before you could make the final break, the click of the safety on a blaster. You and Kanan slowly turn to see a clone commander raising two blasters.

"I don't want to hurt either of you...one of you make it seem like i'm hurt so he won't kill me,"

"Or I'll do it myself," You say with a growl but the moment he takes of his helmet, your entire body freezes and your brain cannot function a response. "Viktor?"

"Commander..." He begins. "Please...I don't want to hurt you," Kanan lowers his lightsaber.

"Come with us,"

"Don't you understand? I can't," He looks behind him when he hears shouting. "Quickly Commander," You bite your lip before using the force to push him a few feet away and off his feet. Kanan gently tugs your arm and you two run onto the Ghost. You turn to lock eyes with Viktor before the ramp closes and you fall to your feet.

~~~

"Okay...so you and the Emperor used to be a...thing?" Hera says and you nod.

"Before I knew he was like this...we were together for 4 years," You say as you rub your arms. "We were happy...I was happy,"

"He was happy...he told me..." Anakin says as he looks out of the window.

"We have to stop him," You say strongly. "Together," He nods and so does Hera.

"Together," She repeats.

[moonlit-imagines]

Dear Fear

Wanda Maximoff x reader

warnings:

a/n: post AOU, pre civil war. kinda. in a way

prompt:

“Delta to team, I think I’ve got something.” You whispered into your comms and heard nothing but static ringing through your ears. “Shit, comms are dead.” It looked like you’d be in this one alone. Lucky for you, most of the staff in this base were preoccupied with a threat on the outside, which cleared an easy path for you to get what you and the Avengers were here for.

The room was nearly pitch black, the only thing guiding you was the light blue illumination from the package that you were sent to retrieve. Without a second to lose, you kneeled down in front of it and began to unveil its contents, but not before a flash of light clouded your mind and brought you to your childhood home. You collapsed to the floor, hearing the faint whisperings of a worried Sokovian girl you had only recently met.

“Y/N? I am so sorry, I didn’t realize—I didn’t know that was you. Please be okay.” You heard her beg as she cradled you in her arms and called for help. “Steve, Natasha, anyone? I’m in the lower east wing, y/n is down.”

“What happened?” Natasha had asked the newest addition to the team and she fessed right up.

“It was my fault, it’s dark, they’re dressed like the enemy, I used my powers...” Wanda admitted in a tone of shame and turned to you. “I’m going to fix this.”

“It’s alright, Wanda,” Steve assured, picking up on her location, “we’ll be there in a few minutes. Sit tight and keep y/n safe.”

“I promise I will.” Wanda looked down at you and noticed you begin to squirm and react to the images playing inside your head. Wanda couldn’t help but tear up at the pain she was causing you, but she was unable to stop it. So she began to softly sing to you, rocking you back and forth gently to ease your mind in a more traditional manner.

“I can’t...no, please...” You muttered in your dreams and kicked your legs out in a brief fit. “I can’t control it.” Wanda listened to you, caressing your hair and hushing you until she noticed that it was starting to get hotter in there. It was long before she began to burn up.

Your powers were beginning to slip from your control and small bursts of fire came rushing from your body. You were warned beforehand on this mission that you were not to use your fire powers unless absolutely necessary because the heat could trigger the package that you were sent to collect.

And here you were next to the package, producing uncontrollable flames that were beginning to hurt Wanda. Through the pain she believed she deserved, she slowly set you down and took a few steps back, preparing to use her powers on you once more in order to contain your flames in a forcefield, letting it down after every burst to give you a chance for oxygen.

“Sorry I’m late!” Clint’s voice and footsteps echoed from down the hall. “The team’s tied up at the moment, I’m all they could spare.” He turned the corner to see you lying on your back against the formerly cold floor, and Wanda taking the best care of you that she could. “Oh, it’s worse than I thought.”

“I don’t know what to do, Clint.” Wanda strained herself trying to keep you contained.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Wanda. Y/N’s gonna be okay.” Clint tried to ease her worries before brainstorming any type of solution. “Tony, come in?”

“This is Iron Man, leave a message after the beep.” He replied despite knowing the severity of the situation.

“Yeah, good one. We need a fire extinguisher down here, Tony. How fast can you be here?” Clint noticed that the fires were starting to get stronger and Wanda noticed that you’re nightmares weren’t calming down, they were getting more intense.

“Clint...they’re not cooling down.” Wanda tried to run toward you, but she was quickly grabbed by the shoulder to halt her from running directly into danger.

“Just...wait.” Clint was just as worried as Wanda, he loved you like family and it killed him to see you in such distress. It wasn’t long before another teammate made their way down to this lower level, just not the one that you guys were looking for.

“How’s y/n?” Natasha called out and saw you pulsating on the ground, and ran to your side despite the protests of her teammates. “Y/N? Hey, it’s Nat. I’m right here...I’m not going anywhere.” Wanda tensed up watching her get so close to you in this condition. You seemed to calm down for a few moments, but then began to glow an orangish-red, charging up on the inside.

“Natasha, get down!” Wanda shouted before lifting her hands and creating a barrier around you to protect her teammates and the structural integrity of the building. There was a flash of light that nearly blinded the three of them, then nothing but smoke under the red bubble that surrounded you. She was almost terrified to let it down and check the damage, but she walked forward and let down her guard to see you peacefully laying unconscious on the floor.

“Are they..?” Clint stepped closer and watched Wanda lean down and look into your head.

“They’re okay. Alive. Still having nightmares, but officially burnt out.” Wanda leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, then heard footsteps from the hallway once again. She propped your head up on her lap and held you gently as Cap and Tony finally arrived on the scene.

“Oh, great! You found the package.” Tony pointed to the glowing blue box that you had came to retrieve and everyone glared at him.

“And you missed all the action.” Nat crawled up from the floor and tapped the breastplate of his suit. “We need to get out of here and get y/n someplace safe so they can ride out the rest of this nightmare.”

“I really am sorry. I never wanted to hurt anyone.” Wanda admitted to Steve with tears welling in her eyes before he squatted down to lift you up.

“I trust you Wanda. I know it was a mistake.” He assured her with a nod. “But I think you might need to make it up to y/n somehow.”

“I know. I will.” She sighed and shook her head at her foolishness, knowing that this could have been avoided if she hadn’t made such an impulsive decision.

—————

Wanda kept you company while you were on bed rest, even though it took you three days to wake up. After more careful contemplation, she laid down beside you in bed, leaning one elbow up on a pillow as she concentrated her powers for something other than fear.

“I can fix this.” She told herself as she began to change your nightmares to happier thoughts, ones that would cool your mind off and stop you from kicking and screaming all night.

She did this all night until she passed out herself due to exhaustion. And in that time that she took her involuntary break, you finally woke up and saw her fast asleep next to you.

“Wanda?” You shook her shoulder a bit. “Wanda, wake up.” You saw her eyes flutter open and she looked you you in shock, almost if she didn’t believe you’d ever wake up again.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay!” She hopped on top of you and took you in for a hug. “You are okay, correct?”

“I’m okay, thanks for asking.” You chuckled and let her go so that she could sit on your lap.

“Y/N. I dearly apologize for hurting you. I never—I never wanted to hurt you like that and I will never do it again, I promise.” Wanda’s apology was one of the most sincere you’d ever heard since Steve walked in on you changing.

“I forgive you, Wanda. It’s okay.” You held onto her hands and squeezed them tightly. “How long was I out?”

“Three days...” She told you.

“Three days?! Shit, I missed my show!” You gasped and giggled with Wanda as she fell to your side.

“Don’t worry, I recorded it for you.” Wanda proudly informed you.

“‘Recorded’ it?” You chuckled at the thought and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you very much. Wanna watch it with me?”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @xuxinoir // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @brutal-out-here // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @dindjarinsspouse // @werewolf-himbo // @lost-fantasy // @legolas-with-hearing-aids // @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom // @summersimmerus // @cipheress-to-k-pop //

[smoochkooks]

—chapter four: white lies

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.5k

summary: it came easy to you to lie. but with every untold truth, you were hurting more on the inside.

previous || next

one year and 6 months ago

April was exceptionally moody that year.  

Every day you woke up to either heavy rainfall or a beautiful, cloudless sky. Alternatively, it could also snow for a couple of hours just to have it all vanish once the sun reappeared. As much as you loved Spring, you hated the capricious weather with passion.  

It was a normal, peaceful, Saturday afternoon. Saturday meant no classes to attend, no work to do on the side. It was just you in your small, cozy apartment, tucked underneath the blanket and binge-watching Attack On Titan.  

You were never an anime enthusiast per se, but you happened to befriend a doe-eyed weeb all those years ago. Your current occupation was just a part of the aftermath. It wasn’t like Jungkook was obsessed, not at all. He was actually far from it. Now, at the tender age of twenty-three, his old hobby was like a relapse. His love for anime was coming in waves every once in a while, gradually transforming into a two-months-long hyperfixation and then, it was nothing. And the cicle continued.

He was currently in the stage of re-watching Attack On Titan, hence why you had been forced to finally give the damned anime a try as well. Hell, he was even coming over tonight to have a marathon with you.

(He’d said that season three, his favourite, you had to watch alongside him.)

You: eren's annoying little shit  

Jungkook: told you so

You: but levi? damn I’d sell my soul for him  

Jungkook: for a 5’2 emotionally unavailable man?  

You: yep. that’s my type

It was far from truth. As much as you liked Captain Levi, he wasn’t Jungkook. You are my type, you wanted to write instead. There hadn’t been a man in my life who managed to even come close to you. But, as always, you kept those confessions to yourself.  

Right when you were about to play another episode, your phone buzzed again.  

Jungkook: I have a weird question  

You: I’m used to that  

You: shoot your shot.  

Jungkook: what’s your finger size?  

Confused, you read his last message once again. That was indeed a weird fucking question to ask, you thought. You had never really been a fan of rings. You only owed one - a gift from your grandmother she gave you for your sixteenth birthday. Rummaging thorough your drawer, you found it in a separate, black case.  

It still fit just right, so you took a ruler, measured the size and googled the results.  

You: it’s 7.5 I guess

You: why do you ask tho?  

Jungkook: I need you to go somewhere with me before our marathon if that’s okay

You: you didn’t answer my question  

You: but okay. what time?

Jungkook: ill pick you up at 5pm  

Jungkook: you’ll see  

Maybe it was for the better he hadn’t told you where he was taking you. If you had know, you would have backed away last minute. Come up with so lame excuse, blame it all on a headache or period cramps.

If you had known Jungkook was taking you to pick up an engagement ring for Soojin, you would have never come with him.  

When you parked in front of one of the most high-ranking jewellery stores dowtown, the solemnity of the situation hit you like a whiplash. You took a deep, shuddering breath. Jungkook was thinking about marrying Soojin. Jungkook was going to propose to her, soon. He was ready to spent the rest of his life with her. 

Jeon Jungkook, the love of your life, was about to slip out of your reach for good. 

You couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. You clenched your fists so tight the knuckles turned white.  

“I figured out you could help me,” Jungkook said, breaking the silence and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I checked Soojin's finger size once when she was showering and then I found out that your’s the same and well, you’re a girl so you obviously know more about jewellery than me and–”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off with a dry chuckle. You didn’t want him to speak. You didn’t want to see him. You wanted to jumped off his car and ran away from that place as far as possible. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it.”  

You smiled at him with reassurance. It was actually hilarious, how you mastered the art of feigning your real feelings when you were with him. It came easy to you to lie but with every untold truth, you were hurting more on the inside.  

“I’m here, so you don’t have to worry about chosing something horrible.”  

He grinned and you noticed a dust of pink covering the apples his cheeks. It was hard, so fucking hard seeing him happy because that was all you ever wanted and yet it pained you not to be the main source of it. Jungkook was twenty-three and already so in love he wanted to get married. You were going to see him in a black tux, a prince charming waiting in front of the altar for his princess.  

It ached. Why did it ache to see him happy?

The lady who worked at the jewellery store greeted you politely with a bow. “What can I do for you?” she asked.  

“We are looking for engagement rings.” Jungkook answered.

You could tell she was a bit astounded but her professional smile never faltered when she responded with, “Oh, that’s still quite unusual to see the couple chosing an engagement ring together.”  

You were about to protest but then, Jungkook did something you would never expect him to do.  

He grasped your hand.

(It was warm. His touch was soothing. Comforting. Then why did it hurt so bad?)  

“My girlfriend wants to chose the ring herself but she doesn’t know when she will get it.”  

To make matters worse, he sent you a wink. The store’s clerk cooed at the scene and clasped a hand over her chest. For her it was yet another day at work, yet another pair of adults who had decided to get marry.  

“You make a really beautiful couple.” she said. 

Even Jungkook’s hand squeezing yours couldn’t ease the sting you felt hearing her speak those words to you. You smiled lightly for good measure. She then pointed at the display and gave you some time and space too look at the options.

Your whole face felt hot. Jungkook was still holding your hand, still playing the role of a perfect boyfriend. He didn’t seem to notice what kind of effect it had on you. He didn’t know how fast your heart was beating, how warm his touch felt on your skin. It was all just a silly joke to him.

He leaned closer to you, so the store's clerk couldn’t hear him. His breath tickled your skin. “You’re blushing.” he whispered.  

“Shut up.”  

He chuckled and let go of your hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”  

(No matter how much it hurt you on the inside, you already missed his touch.)

“It’s okay. Let’s chose my damned ring, shall we?” you proposed, mustering a nonchalant tone.  

Dodging uneasiness with humor always worked out, it seemed.

You felt odd and out of place standing next to him and staring at all those glimmering jewels. In the corner of the eye you saw the lady who worked there glancing at you from time to time and that was when you remembered you were supposed to act like a soon-to-be fiancée. 

“They’re all pretty.” you said to Jungkook. 

“Which one you like the most then?”  

You didn’t have to think long about the answer. The ring with an emerald stone caught your eye from the beginning. It was different than the others, definitely not a standard choice for engagement but something about its peculiarity made you want it to have it shinning on your finger one day.  

Except, you weren’t here for yourself. Jungkook wasn’t your boyfriend. You were helping him chose a ring for Soojin. And you knew exactly what she would like.  

So you pointed at the number thirty-two. A sparkling, white-gold ring with an oval-shaped diamond.  

Jungkook let out a hum. “It’s really pretty, yeah. Excuse me,” he called. “My girlfriend would like to try out this one.”  

You ignored the phantom pain you felt as you put the ring on. You flexed your fingers and just for a moment, you pretended it wasn’t a farce your best friend came up with. The diamond shone brightly just like the glimmers of happiness in Jungkook's eyes. He didn’t have to worry about Soojin's answer. He knew it would be thousand times yes.

You were good at pretending. After all, you had been practicing the art of it almost your entire life.  

So you drove with Jungkook to your apartment and listened to him babbling about his newest project at work. You made snacks, sat in front of your TV and spent the next couple of hours watching Attack On Titan. You cursed him for spoiling you a few bits of the show and Jungkook, like the petty Virgo he was, reminded you how you accidentally revealed him Little Women's ending because you had read the book years before.

As you laughed and bickered with him, you still remembered about the crimson box tucked in the pocket of his leather jacket, but you didn’t allow yourself to break. Not yet.  

It was only when Jungkook fell asleep around 1am that you stepped into the shower and let the tears flow.  

And a week later, when the dreaded became real–

Jungkook: she said yes!!!

A white lie was told to avoid hurting someone’s feelings.

You: I’m so happy for you, Jungkook!  

After all, the best you could do was give up your happiness for the sake of his own.

[jortsaaaaaaart]

Three Hearts- Tendou x Reader x Ushijima

Soulmate AU- updates will be posted to https://archiveofourown.org/works/32830702/chapters/81464533

You remembered Sendai as being cold, so, so cold. The summers were short but they were also filled with many days spent exploring. You were part of a binational family. Your mother was from the United States, your father from Japan. Most of your early childhood was spent bouncing between the two countries before, finally, it was decided that the schools in Japan were much (much) better. It wasn’t too much of a culture shock. But the freedom Sendai offered was intoxicating. In Japanese culture it was perfectly acceptable to send your child out on errands, or let them visit the local park, on their own.

It was on one of these after school excursions that you ran into your future best friend. 

A humid June evening had you trailing along the bank of the local river. Cicadas and the current drowned out almost all other noise. You were debating turning back or taking a wade in the water when you saw a shock of red. There was another kid sitting by the river. One with a pretty vibrant bowl cut. However, when you got closer you realised his hair wasn't the only thing that was red.

"Uh, hey." You murmured, feeling more than a little awkward. "Are you okay?" He almost jumped out of his skin. Wide red eyes snapped towards you before hiding away.

The redhead hastily wiped at his eyes. "Y-Yeah."

"That didn't sound all that convincing." With a sigh you plopped down next to him, watching as he curled in on himself. You'd never been one to mind your own business, not even as a child. Seeing someone crying by themselves was an instant invitation for you to barge in and try to help.

"I'm fine."

"You're crying."

"No I'm not!"

"Hmm. . ." You leaned back, looking over the river. "So what's your name then? If you don't tell me I'll just have to call you cry baby."

“. . . It’s Tendou Satori.” He muttered. Tendou was eyeing you warily, like a stray dog afraid to take a treat from a stranger.

"I'm (L/N) (F/N). If you want me to leave I can, but you just looked so sad sitting here alone." You gave him the warmest smile you could before returning your attention to the water. Satori's red eyes stayed locked on you but he didn't ask you to leave. A few moments passed in silent solidarity before he spoke up.

"I'm usually alone."

"I know how you feel." You sighed.

"You do?"

"Well, yeah. I moved around so much before grade school that I don't know anyone here." You paused. "But, hey, now I know you, right?" Your smile made Tendou forget all about the tears. His cheeks flushed pink under the setting sun.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Asked Satori, who desperately wanted to believe you were being genuine. But years of abuse had a hold on his heart.

You blinked. "Why wouldn't I be nice?"

". . . 'Cause I. . . Everyone says I'm a-"

"Ah! Look guys, it's the monster!" A group of children walked up behind the two of you. They were pointing at Satori with mocking grins. "You shouldn't get so close to him, he'll gobble you up!"

"Monster?" You glanced over at him but he was purposefully avoiding your eyes. If possible he would've liked to completely melt into the grass. Away from everything and everybody. But you weren't sinking into the ground, you were rising up. The bullies took a step back as you stomped up the embankment. "What gives you the right to call him that, huh?"

"W-What?" The ringleader stammered. "You've seen him, he's a freak! He shouldn't be allowed near us normal huma-"

He fell to the ground, clutching his cheek. Everyone's eyes were wide and glued to you. 

"Y- You just punched me!?"

"And I'll do it again!" You stared down the boy while his friends helped him to his feet. Before you could say anything else, or fight a 1 v 4, someone grabbed your hand. Tendou dragged you away while you stuck your tongue out at the still stunned bullies. 

Neither of you would ever forget that day. It was the start of a lifelong friendship, and eventually, something more.

On your first year of middle school you officially learned what soulmates were. It was assumed most parents would give you the talk before then, but the school board wanted youths to be prepared. 

"They taught us about soulmates today in class." You were both lounging around in his room reading the newest Shonen Jump. You sat next to him on the bed, trying to keep up with his reading speed.

"Yeah?" You hummed.

"When you turn 18 your soulmate's name appears on your wrist. . . But, if you're older than them you have to wait for their birthday so the marks can appear at the same time. . . And then some people don't even get a soulmate." He wasn't paying attention to the manga anymore. His eyes were fixed to the floor while his brain waged war against itself. Tendou had been sure you were his soulmate since that first night. The butterflies in his stomach still hadn't gone away and every time he looked at you he felt like a pile of mush. 

But, still, the 'I think you're my soulmate.' died on his tongue replaced with something much more depreciating. "I'm probably one of those people. Monsters don't get soulmates after all." His grin was shaky at best and you saw right through it.

"Don't call yourself that." You chided. "And of course you have a soulmate, Tori. Someone out there doesn't know how lucky they are. Soulmates with the best volleyball ball player ever. And the greatest friend ever, too." 

You flopped down, holding your wrist in front of you. "I don't know if I'm excited or nervous."

"Well, it's a good thing, isn't it? Having a soulmate? You'll have someone who belongs with you and will love you no matter what." You pouted at him and he smiled, continuing with his speech. "I can't wait till we turn eighteen. And I know you can't wait either. Even if you're being a baby now."

Tendou had your eighteenth birthday planned out for years. Step one, he'd take you to the river where you met. Step two, shower you with presents and affection. And step three, wait for your soulmate's name, his name, to appear. Step four (profit), live happily ever after. However, like many things in life, it didn't go quite as planned.

On March 21st, right after the end of your final year of junior high, your mother died. It wasn't a shock, she had been sick for months, but the pain was still unbearable. Your mother's side of the family wanted to bury her in the family plot. An old tradition from an old, rural, part of America. Your father gladly handed the responsibility off to them. 

Tendou remembered begging his parents to let him see you off at the airport. He remembered how red and puffy your eyes were, the sad smile on your face when you promised him you'd be back soon. 

But you weren't. 

Your father was in no shape to take care of you. Burying himself in his work to try and forget his loss. February came around and you had your 16th birthday in America. The first year of highschool had started without you. Tendou sent you pictures from Shiratorizawa every day, making you promise to try and get back as soon as possible.

Another February came and went. Your father was getting better and you were slowly but surely convincing him Japan was the right place for you to be. Tendou texted you every day, talking to you about his volleyball matches, his friend Ushijima, how much he missed you. 

It was your third year of highschool and finally, finally, you were heading home. You told Tendou the news as soon as you knew. He seemed even more excited than you. You knew why, even if you didn't say it. Tendou had always been the one you thought of when you imagined your soulmate. But. . . There was something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. The whole thing made you nervous, so you kept your feelings to yourself. 

Tendou stayed up all night on your birthday, hoping, praying. His eyes never left his wrist for a second and finally at 2:45 a.m. , something happened. Your name, in your sloppy, too quick, handwriting, appeared. The relief of ten years of wondering washed over him. He laughed, breathless and giddy. He immediately messaged you, sending you a picture of his wrist before a barrage of messages, most of them legible.

A minute passed by, then ten, then twenty. . .

You had to see it too, right? So why hadn't you said anything? You hadn't called, texted, or, hell, even emailed him. Tendou started to feel his heart sink with each passing moment. 

What if you were disappointed?

Tendou's breath caught in his throat and he could feel his face burn. His phone clattered to the ground as he sank down into his bed. He tried to calm himself down, he didn't know what time it was where you were. Maybe you were out celebrating your birthday or sleeping? He just needed to sleep it off and give you time to respond.

Chest tight, Tendou waited. He waited till hours turned to days and suddenly it was March and his heart was broken. He wasn't sure what was going on at this point. You two had almost never gone a day without talking. But you hadn't read any of his texts or snaps. Eventually he stopped messaging you all together.

But he hadn't given up. He knew you were flying back to Japan soon and he was determined to ask you what the hell was going on.

By mid March you had moved back into your old home. Your father had graciously gotten a moving company for you and your meager belongings. Somehow he failed to show up himself though. You didn't blame him though, he was busy and you haven't been the best company recently. Before leaving America your grandma had begun calling you the walking dead. You were barely sleeping, your eyes were puffy with designer bags hanging heavily underneath. She understood why you were feeling so down and she was empathetic, but the rest of your small town wasn't.

You thought about the timing of it all as you began to unpack. The first box, full of books and notes, was barely empty before the doorbell rang.

Tendou was standing on your doorstep. Your soulmate was standing before you, and your first thought was to shrink back and pretend you weren't home.

He rang the bell again. "(Y/N)! I know you're home! I just. . . I just want to talk okay? . . . Please?"

Tendou stepped back as the door swung open. You were holding your wrist close to your chest, looking anywhere but at him. He could see how red your eyes were, though, and thought they matched his completely.

"Why?" He muttered. One pitiful idiot to another. "Was it so fucking awful? Having my name on your wrist?"

"It wasn't. . ." You started. "Tendou, it wasn't just your name." 

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 5: Thai Food and Realizations

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

AO3 Link

I got this one out QUICK because I'm moving this week and packing is taking up 94% of my brainpower but!! It's out on time!! If I ever have to delay a chapter, I’ll post an update here on my blog. Also, I don’t usually do taglists, but I have had a few people ask - so if you want to be added to a taglist for new chapters, just shoot me a message! I love you all so much, thank you for the continued support and comments!!! <3

Summary:  You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 5, Thai Food and Realizations

Chapter Summary: You decide to talk to Hotch after the Matthews incident, and wind up discovering a lot more about both of you than you bargained for.

Words: 2616

Rating: Explicit, 18+ 

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You weren’t prepared with the immense boredom that came with actually having free time.

The rest of the team had closed the case and flown back (at least you assumed they had; you hadn’t checked), and Hotch had texted you not to bother coming back in until they got a new assignment. You were grateful for the courtesy - a little time to decompress after almost being murdered was nice - but after months of having almost no life outside of the internship, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with yourself.

By the time day four rolled around, you had caught up on the reading you’d been meaning to get to, deep cleaned twice, tried and failed to get into running, and sought out at least a dozen other forms of mindless entertainment. You tried not to think about the fact that this would be the perfect time to catch up with friends if you actually had any, but your college and post-college life spent studying like a madwoman to land a position with the BAU hadn’t exactly lent itself to a healthy social life. There were acquaintances, of course, people you’d spent time with, college boys you’d dated briefly, but none of them had ever lasted. Gotten close.

None of them had ever killed a man for you.

That was the core of it, right? The reason you couldn’t get him out of your head? He’d only known you for a few months, not like the rest of his team that he’d dedicated years to, and yet he didn’t hesitate to end someone’s life in brutal fashion to save yours. You were grateful, of course, given the alternative, but a part of you felt bad. Given his history, he was already encumbered with enough trauma - the last thing he’d needed was another death on his conscience.

That was his decision to make.

That’s what you told yourself, at least. Or tried to. But after four days of the guilt eating at you and failing to distract yourself from it, that thought stopped being reassuring. That evening, after a couple glasses of wine, you finally worked up the courage to acknowledge the idea that had been tossing around in the periphery of your mind for a while.

Committing to action before you convinced yourself this was a dumb idea - and it was, of course, but the slight buzz and four days of isolation said otherwise - you called in an order to the Thai place down the street and heaved yourself off the couch. You tried not to care about how you looked, but changed your outfit an embarrassing number of times before you got the text that your order was ready.

When you first started at the BAU, Garcia had sent you a directory of all the team members’ information. You remembered asking her why their home addresses were on the list - that’s kind of unnecessary, isn’t that, like, personal?  you’d said - and you remembered the sad look she’d given you by way of an answer. Turns out the job had followed them all home at one point or another, usually in a way that required rescuing. As you checked the directory for Hotch’s address, you considered that this information was probably only intended to be used if you needed to save him from an unhinged serial killer breaking into his home, but you figured “thanking your boss for snapping a man’s neck to save your life” was a satisfactory enough purpose.

Turns out, Hotch lived in an apartment only a few blocks away from yours. After picking up the takeout order, you started to make the trek. The closer you got, however, the more your confidence started to waver, and not just because you started to realize how weird you were about to look. Even in the dimming light of the evening, you could tell from the building facades that you were entering a much more well-to-do part of downtown. The storefronts and restaurants occupying the bottom floor of brick condos looked more high-class, the cars parked along the sidewalk more expensive and well-maintained. It made sense given his status in the FBI that Hotch could afford to live in an area like this, but still, you hadn’t imagined it. You hadn’t imagined him living outside of work at all, actually - like an elementary school teacher, it was strange to think that he had a life outside of his job.

You stopped outside of the address on your cell phone, a greystone, ivy-covered apartment building. The doorman saw you pause at the threshold and opened the door from the inside.

“Visiting, I assume?” he asked, as you stepped inside.

Still in shock at the fact that you were in the sort of area that had doormen, you nodded. “Um, yes, Agent Hotchner? I mean, Aaron Hotchner? I work with him. For him, actually. He doesn’t know I’m coming.”

The doorman gracefully ignored your verbal fumbling. “Do you have a badge?”

It made sense that Hotch would use that as a barrier to entry. Smart. You nodded again and produced it from your bag. He waved you on to the stairwell, where you made the climb to the fourth and topmost floor.

You stuttered to a stop outside his door at the very end of the hall. Suddenly overcome with nerves, you took a mental stock of yourself: slightly winded from the four-floor climb, dressed in an oversized sweater and leggings, hair less-than-artfully windswept, hands slightly shaking with adrenaline, clutching a bag of takeout. Not the image you wanted to present to your boss.

God, this was such a fucking stupid idea.

You started to turn away, intending to leave the way you came, when the door in front of you flew open. You yelped, dropping the bag, and turned back to see Hotch standing in the doorway. He was in his work pants, still, but a plain black t-shirt replaced his usual button-up. His left hand was on the half-open door, right hand behind his back, no doubt holding his gun. You put your hands up sheepishly in surrender.

“Hey, Agent Hotchner. Sorry. I just wanted to-”

“What are you doing here?” he interrupted, eyebrows screwed up in confusion.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to, um, thank you. For saving me, the other day. I brought you dinner.”

He continued to look at you like you’d just grown two heads.

You leaned down and picked up the bag of food, holding it out towards him lamely. He looked down at it and finally seemed to relax, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t get many- I wasn’t expecting a visitor. Please, come in.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that he might invite you in, but you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to see Aaron Hotchner’s apartment. You stepped in, and he replaced the gun he was holding back in a drawer by the entryway, locking the door behind you. You were suddenly overcome with sorrow, knowing his life had progressed in such a way that hearing footsteps outside his door was a cause for alarm.

The apartment was nearly as intimidating as the man himself. Tall, industrial ceilings loomed over the open, warehouse-style floorplan, populated by neutral furnishings. An exposed brick wall on the left housed a stainless-steel kitchen, while a king-sized bed on the far right wall was placed near the only closed portion of the space, which you guessed was the bathroom. The windows were numerous - multi-paned and massive, but curtains were drawn over most of them. It was all a reflection of Hotch - impressive and somewhat cold.

There was a single photo, from what you could see, in the entire apartment - a small frame on the otherwise file-covered coffee table between the couch and flatscreen. It was a photo of Hotch, a woman, and a young child. You found yourself drawn towards it, as Hotch took the bag from you to set it on the kitchen island, and you walked over to pick it up. He was smiling in the photo - a genuine smile, not the tight-lipped imitations you caught a few times at the office - and the sight filled you with emotion. Who was he before you met him? A father, a husband, of course, but what was he like?  Did he laugh at Prentiss and Morgan’s off-color jokes instead of chiding them, did he go out to social gatherings with the team? Did he spare emotion when speaking to a victim’s family, as he so rarely did now? Would he have broken a man’s neck without thought like he did to Matthews?

“You’ll stay for dinner?”

You quickly set the frame back down.

“Oh, no, I wasn’t planning on it. Like I said, I just wanted to thank you. I’ve been thinking about it the last few days and I just feel… bad. I guess. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Why would you feel bad?”

You hesitated, trying to avoid the truth - that he didn’t need another body on his conscience. He waited for an answer, and when he didn't receive one, he stepped closer and scanned your face. "What aren't you telling me?"

You weren't keeping anything from him, not really, you just didn't want it to sound like you were calling his mental state into question like you did at the hotel. It didn't matter though, because he had apparently pulled the answer from your expression already.

“You think I’m damaged. And that killing Matthews somehow added to that.”

There was no point in even attempting to lie to him, so you stayed silent.

Hotch sighed and pulled out a seat at the kitchen island. You took it and watched him distribute the takeout containers between the two of you, noticing that despite insisting you weren’t intending to stay for dinner, you’d ordered plenty of food for two people.

Profiling yourself is the worst.

“When Haley and I were married,” Hotch began, picking at his curry, “I took her for granted. I spent more late nights at work than I can count, and I always assumed she would be there when I got home. She was, at first, and then she wasn’t.”

You nodded, afraid to speak, trying not to disturb the moment you’d somehow stumbled upon.

“She had an affair. I never confronted her about it, but I knew. I didn’t hate her for it, but when she asked for a divorce, I let her go without a fight. I wanted the best chance to keep Jack in my life and I didn’t want things to get ugly between us. It worked - I got to see Jack; we were amicable.”

He paused before continuing, “They were killed a few years later by George Foyet. We mismanaged that case. He was ahead of us the entire time; we couldn’t catch up. When we finally caught him, after Haley and Jack-” His voice finally broke, and he set down his fork, staring at the counter.

“He surrendered. I didn't care.”

“You beat him to death,” you whispered. You’d looked up the case file, after JJ had told you what happened.

He nodded, seemingly unsurprised you were familiar with the details. “I was never charged, hardly investigated. No one blamed me. I took some time off, and I came back. I thought about going back to law, but I didn’t.”

He looked up at you, meeting your gaze. “Why didn’t I?”

You blinked away the tears that were forming, confused.”I-I’m sorry?”

“Why didn’t I go back to law? Leave the BAU? You should know the answer.”

“Are you asking me to profile you?”

He nodded in confirmation. “You’re not going to offend me, don’t worry.”

Hotch was the last person you wanted to profile, especially to his face, but you knew better than to try to refuse.

“You... wanted a sense of purpose. If you could keep the same thing from happening to other people, it would make up for what happened to your family,” you responded quietly. It was an easy answer, but it still felt wrong to put Hotch on display like that, especially after he’d already revealed more to you than you’d ever seen him do with anyone.

“Correct,” he said, without a hint of the bitterness you’d have expected to accompany that statement.

“And did it? Help, I mean?”

He studied your face, as if trying to decide whether to grant you the answer. You were suddenly aware of the strangeness of the situation - sitting feet away from your boss in his own apartment talking about the darkest moments of his life. This was insight you doubted he’d ever given before, and as you glanced over his mussed hair, the black t-shirt, caught a whiff of his cologne, you tried not to think about the implications of that statement.

Clearing his throat and raising his eyebrows, he turned back to his food. “It did. It does, most of the time. The rest of the team has been exceptionally understanding, perhaps more so than I deserve.”

“You deserve everything they can give you,” you said with a small smile. “From what they’ve told me, you’ve done the same for each of them several times over.”

“It’s my job,” Hotch said, but you could tell he softened at hearing how his team regarded him.

You both went back to your food, finishing the meal in relative silence - the kind that was comfortable, where you both knew that everything that needed to be said for now, had been. At least, the silence probably felt comfortable to him. Your mind was in overdrive.

Everything Hotch had said and done the last few months that had caused you to falter - the way he shook your hand when you first signed onto the BAU internship, the innocuous moments of praise, that goddamn tie - they were circling your mind like a vulture waiting for the kill. You had tried to brush those moments off, but hearing him open up like this, bare his soul, was too much. It was the next look you stole, watching him eat in quiet contemplation, faint remnants of the blush from the compliment you paid him still gracing his cheeks, that did you in.

You were pretty sure you were in love with Aaron Hotchner.

You were so, so unbelievably fucked.

____________

When Hotch bid you goodbye that night, after you helped clean up his kitchen (which allowing you to do had been a debate in itself), you had the brief, stupid thought that you should just be honest with him. How long, truly, were you going to be able to hide the fact that you were infatuated with your boss? Especially when your boss was in the business of reading people like books?

That idea went out the window, however, when he leaned against the doorway with his signature half-smile and said, “Thank you for everything tonight. I’m glad you’re on the team,” because you know where you wouldn't be, if you confessed your sudden realization? On the team. Hotch made it clear when he hired you, and every day since, that clear judgement was paramount to the team's success. There was no way he'd trust you to be unbiased in a situation that required it if he knew how you felt. And this position was too much to think about giving up, not after the years of studying and social isolation that allowed you to make the cut.

So, you can do this, you decided. You can lie to Aaron Hotchner.

Right?

[zaffrenotes]

[TRR x ES] Viewing Party

Book: The Royal Romance & Endless Summer Pairings: Liam x MC (Katrina Bailey), Drake x OC (Alyssa Devereaux), Jake x MC (Laurel) Rating/Warnings: G; mild innuendo Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * Katrina Bailey & Laurel are the MCs I use when writing fanfic for TRR and ES, respectively; Alyssa Devereaux belongs to birthday girl @burnsoslow​ * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles​​ Prompt 80: Stop looking at me like that. * Author’s Note 2: * This is a birthday gift for my cheesy, potato loving homegirl Burnsie, who requested her very first Endless Summer/Jake fic, despite having never read any ES fic until now 🙈 for the sole reason being that she and Jake McKenzie are almost birthday twins, and my favorite pilot turns 30 this year. If you’re unfamiliar with canon ES trivia, Jake can hold his breath for 9 minutes, and Estela can hold her breath for an astonishing 14. This isn’t entirely what I had in mind when I set out to write an ES/Jake birthday fic, but I wasn’t about to miss your day because I’ve hit a whole ass writer’s wall, Burnsie! I hope you have an AMAZING day and I’m sending you so many hugs! You’re one of the sweetest ladies here, and I am so very thankful that I can call you a friend 🥰 also my real, real gift to you is coming at a later date, as I still have to work on it 😬 * and yes, that’s DDT in the moodboard - just for Burnsie, again - since I use Barnes as Drake’s FC in my TRR fics, lol * Word Count: 2000 on the dot!

It was nearly 10:00 PM on Friday evening, when Burns arranged things around the comfiest chair in her living room. The rest of her family already retired for the evening, after a small but wonderful birthday celebration in her honor at home. Within easy reach, she’d arranged drinks and snacks next to her laptop - a glass of water, a hot mug of tea, a slice of homemade birthday cake to take care of any sugar cravings, and a small platter of cheese and crackers for something more savory. She grinned softly at the newest addition to her mug collection, watching the steam rise from the contents within. 

The lavender mug arrived in the mail earlier that day from one of her friends, emblazoned with a quote from David Rose. Burns took a sip of the warm beverage before setting it down on the small side table and situated herself in the chair. She flipped open the laptop and pulled up a browser window, smiling at a gift from another friend - there was a sticker next to the trackpad with a drawing of a wedge of Swiss, quoting another memorable line from Schitt’s Creek, reminding her to “fold in the cheese.” Burns glanced to the time on the screen and logged in to her Netflix account, clicking until she arrived at the viewing party, and began typing to join the group chat. 

She was greeted with jubilant messages from Donna, Ella, Brandy, Anitah, and half a dozen other friends, wishing her a happy birthday before the show started. They’d formed an ever-growing viewing party for a new series titled Stranded in the Orchard, which was an odd amalgamation of Survivor and Gilligan’s Island. Taking a cue from reality tv competitions, there were hidden cameras all over the island to monitor everyone and reduce production crew intervention, and in a nod to Hunger Games, there was an omnipresent host that would drop messages to signal when challenges were about to take place. After four episodes, the ladies in the watching party started picking their favorites from the two teams. 

Team Ruby consisted of a group that appeared to have been shipwrecked onto the island. Leo was dubbed The Rogue; his brother Liam was The CEO; Katrina was The Attorney; Alyssa was The Teacher; Drake was The Cowboy; Olivia was The Weapons Expert; Bertrand was The Grump; Madeleine was The Whiner; Maxwell was Bertrand’s brother and The Jester; Hana was The Jill of All Trades. Bertrand and Madeleine had already been voted off when Ruby lost two events. 

Team Catalyst consisted of a group of mostly college students. Jake was The Pilot; Laurel was The Mystery Girl; Sean was The Coach; Michelle was The Doctor, even though she was only pre-med; Craig was The Muscle; Zahra was The Engineer; Aleister was The Slick One; Grace was The Brain; Diego was The Entertainer; Estela was The Huntress. Catalyst lost the last two events, which sent Aleister and Grace packing. 

Everyone settled in to watch the opening credits as they recapped last week’s episode, where Ruby won the immunity challenge and fishing gear by building a makeshift stretcher to rescue and carry Katrina from a jungle crash site to a first aid station on the beach; Catalyst voted Grace out. Burns popped a cheese cube into her mouth as she and her friends watched the two groups deal with day-to-day chores in their respective camps on Day 14 of the show. They chatted about the team members and how much Burns wanted to see Drake take off his shirt to go in the water, despite the knowledge that there were clips of him cuddling with Alyssa; Donna, Ella, and Anitah would keysmash in the group chat any time Liam appeared on the screen, even though he and Katrina were clearly sweet on each other, while Brandy and Alyssa Lauren would ask what was happening or who someone was from the Catalyst team.

—

“Pillows and blankets are nice, but what we could really use is food,” Maxwell said, drawing an octopus in the sand with a piece of driftwood. “I don’t know how much longer I can last on coconuts and rice.” 

“Liam and Drake took the raft out this morning to try fishing with the gear, maybe they’ll get lucky,” Katrina suggested, stirring the pot of rice in the fire. She set the lid on top and stood up from her kimchi squat position, dusting some errant sand off her leg. They both looked out towards the water, as dawn stretched out across the ocean, making out shadowy forms of their friends as they bobbed in the water, just before one of them went under the surface. Behind them, the rest of their friends began to stir awake from the scent of rice cooking. 

Back at the Catalyst camp, Jake sat by the campfire with Estela; they were working on making their own fishing gear from bamboo and camp supplies after losing the previous challenge. Jake fed a length of twine through a handmade fishing pole while Estela sharpened tips on one end of a pile of branches she’d gathered. “Whatcha whittlin’, Katniss?” 

Estela glanced at Jake sideways. “Stakes. Hand over some of that twine, I need it to bind these to make spears.” With a begrudging huff, Jake unfurled the twine and ran it against the edge of the makeshift bench he was sitting on to cut it, before tossing the rest at Estela. 

“How fast can you tie those off? We’re losin’ daylight for a morning catch, if you wanna ride on the raft with me.” 

“Five minutes,” she answered, already working nimbly around a branch to secure the whittled spikes. 

The screen cut back to Ruby’s camp, where Liam and Drake stepped ashore, smiles brighter than the sunrise as Drake held up a fish trap with small rays flapping against one another. 

—

“kjsdhfksjhfksjhfks,” Burns smashed into her keyboard. “Look at my man! With the sea bounty!” 

“mevmnbvmnxb,” Ella smashed back.

“How do you know Drake did all the work? Liam’s just as wet, hahaha,” Donna chortled in response.

—

After killing their catch as humanely as possible - with Alyssa turning her face to Drake’s chest to avoid witnessing it - Leo and Olivia gutted and cleaned the rays before setting them on top of their makeshift grill to cook. Liam and Drake regaled the group with their morning under the water, as they took turns fishing. 

While Team Ruby enjoyed some protein with their rice that morning, members of the Catalyst team glumly spooned rice into their mouths as they sat around the campfire while Jake and Estela dried off; their morning fishing trip had been unsuccessful. 

Later that day, both teams received messages from the host to gather for a reward challenge. Each team made their way to a small lagoon, where they saw a structure floating in the water. A booming voice overhead instructed them to swim out to the structure and await further instructions. Once everyone from both teams had done so, a blue holographic image of the host appeared in the center to explain the rules. “The challenge is simple,” she narrated. “We want to see who can hold their breath the longest. There’s a bar you can use to keep yourself from floating up if you need it. Last one standing earns the prize for the whole team — an overnight trip at the Celestial Hotel, where our rotating film crew goes to rest. You’ll be treated to clean sheets and towels, hot showers, along with a decadent dinner and breakfast menu the next morning, before having to return to your camp.” 

Everyone’s eyes lit up at the incentive of a night away from sleeping on the beach, away from mosquitos, rodents, and the threat of being waterlogged by passing storms. Stomachs gurgled at the thought of hot meals that didn’t consist of rice, and the possibility of cocktails or wine. “Oh, we got this,” Jake murmured quietly to Laurel. “Bet I can hold my breath longer’n any of those Ruby kids.” 

“Is that so?” Leo taunted, overhearing Jake’s comment.

“Just call me Poseidon,” Jake smirked. 

“We’ll see about that,” Leo replied. “You know most of us are from an island, right? We’re basically merpeople.” 

—

“Bets! Bets on who wins this!” Brandy typed into the chat window.

“Sticking with Drake,” Burns typed. “Maybe Hana. She could have another random talent up her sleeve.” 

“My money’s on Liam. Look how broad his chest is,” Anya replied. “He’s got to have massive lungs to match.”

“That makes no sense,” Ella typed, adding a laughing emoji. “But I’m Team Liam anyway.”

“Don’t hate me,” Donna began. “Something tells me Jake isn’t boasting right now.” 

From her screen at home, Alyssa Lauren used Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe to choose Zahra. The rest of the group picked their favorites as the castaways donned goggles and got into the water. 

—

“Ready? Set! Go!” 

Sixteen heads dipped under the water’s surface, with contestants pinching their noses and puffing out their cheeks as an underwater camera filmed them. A handful of them - Olivia, Alyssa, Maxwell, Diego, and Michelle - tapped out under a minute. As the sand settled, thirty seconds passed before Katrina, Laurel, Sean, and Drake headed to the surface. Just after the two minute mark, Hana, Craig, and Zahra gave up, leaving Jake, Liam, Estela, and Leo under the water. 

Jake looked positively peaceful, sandy brown hair swaying with ease in the water. Estela tapped her fingers lightly across the bamboo rod, counting each second as it passed. Liam glanced over to his brother, who’d begun to turn pink. Half a minute later, Leo popped up to the surface, muttering to himself out of frustration. 

Three minutes in, Liam surfaced, gasping for air, leaving Jake and Estela to battle it out between themselves. Even though the hologram host blasted a horn to signal the end of the challenge, neither Catalyst member surfaced. Liam ducked down to check on them, and Jake and Estela both signaled that they were fine. Everyone continued to wait as the pair spent minute after minute under the water.

—

“Seriously? They’re on the same team!” Anitah typed. “They won already!” 

“They’ve been underwater for a scary length of time,” Brandy added. “What are they, Navy SEALs or something?” 

“I think Jake mentioned he was actually in the Navy before,” Alyssa Lauren replied. 

—

A digital clock appeared in the corner of the screen as the two Catalyst members continued to hold their breath underwater. With each passing minute, members from both groups began to worry. After eight minutes passed, the host’s voice rang out, advising them to pull Jake and Estela up from the water to end the challenge. Laurel and Craig ducked down, eventually pulling their teammates up. “Congratulations to The Catalysts!” the host exclaimed. “A boat will be waiting at your camp to take you to the hotel.” 

Laurel swatted Jake’s arm as they made their way to the shore. “What’s wrong with you!? You were underwater for nearly ten minutes! Who does that!?” 

Jake looked over his shoulder to her with a grin, mischievous sparkle in his bright blue eyes. “Ten would be a new record, my best is nine.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Imagine nine uninterrupted minutes of me holding my breath, Princess. My birthday is tomorrow, and I know exactly how I wanna celebrate,” he winked.  

Laurel’s cheeks flushed at the suggestion. “Stop looking at me like that, Top Gun.”

—

That evening at the hotel, after a sumptuous feast of lobster, crab, and an endless supply of beer and wine, the Catalyst members eventually went to bed. Much later into the night, Jake was seen sneaking into Laurel’s room. 

—

“I KNEW IT!” Burns typed. She laughed as her friends typed in responses full of lemon, fire, pepper, and eggplant emojis. She popped another cheese cube into her mouth and smiled, watching the rest of the episode play out.

[something-fanfiction-ie]

Rough Drafts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of a murder scene, argument, angst, and cursing.

A/N: Okay, so I know I said I was gonna publish this yesterday but I got Cassandra Clare’s newest book and I couldn’t put it down. I seriously love that lady. Omg. Anyways, it’s here now! And it’s angsty! And there’s gonna be a fourth part soon I promise! For real. Don’t forget to reblog, comment, send me an ask or a message and overall just adore me so that I may continue to feel good about myself. As always thank you for supporting me and I hope you enjoy!!!

[ Part One | Part Two ]

___

An incredulous laugh bursts from your lips, your nails cutting crescent moons into the palms of your hands as you try and convince yourself that this isn’t actually happening.

“Do you have alibis for your whereabouts on Monday, June eighth, Saturday, June thirteenth, and Thursday, June eighteenth?” Spencer can see your leg bouncing rapidly under the table, your eyes flying over the pictures and the expression of Emily Prentiss. You seem genuine, but he can’t trust himself to get an accurate read of you anymore.

“I, uhm, I- I wouldn’t know off the top of my head. I keep a planner, I’ll forget things otherwise.” The burst of iron in your mouth is not something you’re unused to, having chewed your cheek so badly that the skin there has broken under your teeth.

“We’ll need to see that.” Emily isn’t sure whether or not she believes that you’re guilty, watching the way you seem to unravel before her. When you look at the crime scene photos, it isn't with any pleasure, but with disgust. Your nose wrinkles a little at the bridge and you keep looking away as the blood from your face starts to drain. 

Either you’re a really good actress or you aren’t the unsub.

Emily says as much as she flips through the small teal planner that you’d willingly given them. Due dates for chapters, publishing events, book signings and days for book tours fill most of the pages in your most neat handwriting. Dates you plan to go visit your mother, grocery shop, doctor’s appointments, even plans to go somewhere and write.

Everything is explicitly stated, that way you’re never unsure of what you meant to tell yourself. That is, until around three weeks ago when a handful of days are notated with an ‘S,’ followed by a random doodle. Sometimes it’s a tiny heart drawn absentmindedly while you discuss the plans over the phone, other times it’s a cartoon bunny or a top hat.

Garcia is the first to take notice of it, her fingers faltering in their constant thrum against the keyboard in front of her. She glances out of the side of her glasses, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Looks like lonely girl found herself a boo.” 

“That makes sense,” JJ says from the chair she’s pulled into Penelope’s office from the bullpen. A pen is stretched between her hands, her posture relaxed into the curve of the stiff, government-issued rolly chair.

All the girls have gathered into the tech analyst’s room while the men take turns interrogating you. Well, all except Spencer. He just stands behind that window watching your every move with eyes like a hawk. “What doesn’t make sense is why she keeps it secret even in her personal planner.”

“Maybe she has a stalker? That could be who is doing all this?” 

“Then she wouldn’t keep careful notation of everything else going on in her life. A stalker would follow her every move, not just her romantic interests. Even if he is in love with her.”

“A partner, maybe? Like the days they planned the murders or days they were acted out?”

“None of the days line up with the crimes, save for this one,” Emily leans the book toward the two women with her finger just underneath June fifth, the day Alison Crane was abducted from outside her campus dorm room. It’s the third ‘S’ scribbled into the corner of a day in the entire book.

“And there is nothing else written in relation to this ‘S’ character?” JJ shakes her head, looking for any clues that could be nestled among the loops and curls of your writing. Reid would be better at this, he was the graphology expert among them. So why wasn’t he back here helping?

“Then I guess we better try and get her to talk about it. Meanwhile Garcia, we’ll get Rossi and Reid to head over to her apartment and you can hack into her computer?” Penelope spins the chair, a flash of bright colors and blond hair. She clicks her tongue in response, throwing up a fingers gun and winking.

“Whatever you need me to do, I’m on it like sexy on Derek Morgan stepping out of the shower in a towel.”

After some arguing, and maybe just a little bit of pleading, they manage to convince Reid to join Rossi on a trip to your apartment. He can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable, standing in your living room. Not because he’d been here before, but because he’d never been here before.

The empty mugs that litter every surface, smelling of old coffee and your favorite coffee creamer (he only knows it’s your favorite because you explicitly ask for that creamer at every coffee shop the two of you have ever gone to), is unfamiliar to him. He’s invited you to his apartment at least three times. How come he had never been to yours?

Small pages and notebooks of scribbled ideas and dialogues cover just as many areas as the coffee cups do, your handwriting messy and cramped in every note. It’s almost like you couldn’t get the idea out of your head fast enough.

The bed in your room is meticulously made without a wrinkle in sight, but that could be because of the obvious bed you’ve made yourself along the salmon pink couch that stretches out in front of your TV. A multicolored crochet blanket is thrown haphazardly over the back, a pillow still slightly squished against the arm.

On the coffee table is a half opened laptop, a notebook with red and black ink scribbled in the lines, and a still full cup of coffee. Rossi makes quick work of calling Garcia and helping her get patched into your computer. It’s strange, watching her move the mouse on your screen from miles away.

Reid never stops moving, walking the length of your studio apartment with his eyes peeled for any kind of information he could find. It’s obvious that you spend most of your time in the main room, which houses the kitchen, a small dining area, and the living room. A door leading into your room branches off to a small bathroom which is just as disorganized as everything else in your house.

Hair products, skin washes, and all kinds of makeup are scattered across the sink and back of your toilet. It’s funny because every time he’s ever met up with you, you’re bare faced and your hair is still drying from the shower you took before leaving your house. The tube of lipstick he picks up makes him think he doesn’t really know you at all.

On the nightstand in your room is a bottle of water with the label ripped off and the two Rossi books you’d bought that fateful day in the bookstore. The label from the water bottle is stuck between the middle pages of one of the books. The passages in question don’t lend anything to connecting you as a homicidal maniac, let alone a serial killer.

Back in the living room, Garcia is snooping through every aspect of your computer.

“I don’t know whether or not the be freaked out by her web history. There’s a lot of murder-y questions here. ‘Signs of a post mortem amputation,’ ‘How much blood can you lose and still live?,’ ‘Most brutal ways to be killed.’ It’s creepy.” Rossi is flicking through the notebook from the table, his eyes squinted as he tried to make sense of the abbreviations and scribblings of another writer.

“She writes crime novels so it isn’t entirely strange for her to be looking at those types of things.” Thankfully, the defense of your web search history comes from the older man who looks up as Garcia delves deeper and deeper. Spencer had thought it first, but hadn’t said anything to avoid suspicion. He’s smart enough to know that the truth has to come out eventually, but he wants to be sure of your innocence (or guilt, he reminds himself a bit glumly) before he reveals your link to him.

“I’m not seeing anything she could be using to contact a partner unless her partner is one of the publishing people she’s constantly messaging via email.” At this Spencer stops, leaning against the back of the couch with his weight resting on the heels of his hands. The stance appears relaxed. He is anything but.

“Why do we assume she has a partner?” Reid asks, impatiently pushing a stray curl away from his face. Rossi glances at him curiously, otherwise undistracted from the shake the movement gives the couch.

“Oh, Prentiss, JJ, and I were looking through her little teal book earlier and the only thing not explicitly stated was just the letter ‘S.’ It’s why they came back to interrogate and they sent you guys to her house. I thought they told you.”

Spencer wants to beat his head against the wall.

“That isn’t a lead, Garcia. You have to tell them that ‘S’ isn’t her partner.” The mouse on the computer screen falters, several saved documents for different rough drafts of books or drabbles are pulled up the way you might have papers scattered about in front of you.

“What is it? Do you know who ‘S’ is?” Rossi is turned sideways on the couch, looking over the back and up at the distressed man in front of him. It doesn’t take him long to connect the dots when they make eye contact. Penelope impatiently whines over the phone.

“I’m ‘S,’ I’ve been seeing her for the last three weeks. I’m sure if you tell me the dates then every single one of them will be days that we’ve had plans together.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Before anyone has the chance to say anything else, the door to Garcia’s office opens and a second voice filters through Rossi’s phone speaker. It’s JJ.

“Let Reid and Rossi know there’s just been another murder.”

This time it’s a fifteen year old girl. Her hair is black and wet, her lips are as blue as the sky, and she’s naked. Water droplets from her skin have soaked into the sheet of paper that was layed over her chest. The bathtub she’s in is completely empty, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that she was drowned there. The bruises on her shoulders from the force the unsub used to pin her down are dark against the contrast of her already pale skin.

...The man leaned over the tub, his eyes squinted in thought and his lips skewed a little to the side. Ryder stayed focused on the crime scene, for the most part. But even detectives of her caliber, and higher, could easily get lost in the eyes that look up at her from beneath long golden-brown lashes.

“Detective?” She blinks the distraction away, looking back at the girl, her black hair wet and spiraling like the snakes on Medusa’s head against the ivory siding of the drained tub. Ryder can’t help but wish the girl had been lucky enough to turn her killer to stone. Maybe it would have saved her.

“Agent.” She crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at the man across from her, pretending to look for any useful clues. Ryder had gotten to the crime scene fourty-five minutes before the pair of FBI Agents had walked in. The man, who had introduced himself as Supervisory Special Agent Matthew Gray, had decided to join her in the second floor bathroom. His partner, a woman named Katherine Swift, had taken to looking for clues through the rest of the house.

Agent Gray is beautiful. It’s the only adjective that seems to stick to him with certainty, every other aspect of his personality just as elusive as the exact color of those eyes. Even as short as his hair is, the golden brown tendrils are unkempt and curl every which way. Ryder has to force her hand to stay at her side and not reach up to smooth an alfalfa that does nothing for the serious expression on his face.

She keeps imagining what it would feel like if he reached out to kiss her, curling his fingers into her hair and bringing her unworthy lips up to meet his. He’s tall so she would probably have to stretch a little, but she wouldn’t mind. Not when his hands are tangled in her hair and he’s giving her the kiss she’s been silently begging for since the moment he flashed that crooked grin at her.

The imagination is so vivid that she jumps when her own partner, Detective Russo, comes around the corner of the hallway and straight into the bathroom...

The paper crinkles in the evidence bag as Morgan places it on the table, trying to ignore the daggers being glared into him on the other side of the mirror.

Nobody on the team had been very happy with Spencer when they heard the news about your relationship, Hotch had nearly snatched him by the scruff of his neck when he made to go into the interrogation room. But after several minutes of thoroughly explaining himself, Hotch had sent Morgan in. To say Spencer was infuriated was an understatement.

“Do you know what this is, (Y/N)?” You look down at it, twisting the evidence bag so that you could read the Times New Roman font you always wrote in when writing in Microsoft Word. The words cover the front and back of the copy paper, but you don’t have to read it through all the way before you know what it is.

“It’s a page from my newest book.” The bag scratches against the tabletop as you push it away from you, crossing your arms over your chest. Your face is stoplight red with embarrassment at the thought of Spencer reading this page, mostly because you had pulled so heavily from your own thoughts when first meeting Spencer to write Ryder and Gray’s first meeting. You created Matthew Gray to write about Spencer Reid in a way that felt less ‘high school diary entry.’

“More specifically, it’s from the book you just started working on about a month ago. The one that only you and your agent have access to.” Finally, Morgan sits. Before, he’d just been pacing around you the way a lioness might stalk around her prey before she launches an attack. It made you uneasy, but that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

“Do you know where we found it, (Y/N)?” His muscles bulge against his shirtsleeves when he leans them up on the table. Derek Morgan is a very attractive man, you’ll give him that, but if making you uneasy and putting you in the room with a attractive man to fluster you was their strategy then they should have sent in Spencer.

“My computer.”

“We found it on the body of a dead girl.” Another picture joins the ones already shuffled around the table. You can barely look at it, nausea and tears building in your throat at the sight of another person dying the same way you’d written in a story. When you don’t respond, Morgan continues.

“‘She was found at the bottom of an empty bathtub, a pale leg hooked over the edge of the porcelain siding, and her arms pinned to her sides in death. Bruises discolored the skin at her shoulders, and Ryder knew at first glance that her cause of death would be asphyxiation by drowning.’” He drops the paper back to the table, having picked it up to read the passage from the end of the page.

“That’s wrong,” You say, leaning back over the table to look at the paper again. Derek looks down, like the words might have changed in the moment he looked away, but the text stays exactly the same as before.

“That’s exactly what is written here.” You shake your head, pulling the bag back to you and wrinkling your forehead in thought.

“I don’t doubt that is what you read, Agent Morgan,” Your eyes fly over the page, reading the end of the excerpt with overwhelming relief. The bag sticks a little to the pad of your index finger as you tap over the paragraph in question. “But I rewrote this scene only two nights ago. It’s on my computer, I’m sure your tech analyst can confirm my claim. This girl, Bella, she doesn’t die from drowning anymore. Her hands are tied above her head to the faucet and she’s strangled. I couldn’t decide if I wanted it to be by her sister or her girlfriend.”

JJ rushes back to Penelope’s office, on a mission to confirm your statement just as you had suggested. Meanwhile, Morgan’s mind is rushing to figure out the mess he is currently sat in. You lean back in your chair now, unsure if the dizziness you feel is from lack of food or the sudden realization that they couldn’t pin this to you anymore.

“I’m not your bad guy. If I was doing this to prove to my mother that my writing is good, that I chose the right career, as your profile says, I wouldn’t change the scene in my book and not change the murder.” In Morgan’s earpiece, Hotch tells him that you were telling the truth about editing the scene two nights ago.

“Unless you planned it to throw us off track. We know about your relationship with Spencer, you’ve probably found out all kinds of things to do to keep us from catching you.”

You clench your teeth, straightening into your chair and pinning Derek down with a look you’d learned from your mother. It makes him think of his mom, your eyes narrowed and your gaze so cold that it could cause frostbite. He watches curiosily as you tilt your chin up a little, trying to hide the pricks behind your eyes and the wobble of your lip. Derek notices them, the entire team notices. They’re trained to notice.

“I want a lawyer.” You say simply, you voice is sharp and quiet but it does the job of slicing through the tension already building in the room.

“Come on, you don’t need a lawyer.”

“That’s where you’re wrong again, Agent Morgan. I do need a lawyer. Because even though I have full-heartedly trusted the justice system since I was in diapers, and even though I came to these offices willing to help your team in any way that I could, you are still trying to use me as a scapegoat instead of actually doing your fucking job and finding the bastard who is killing people in my name.

“A study from criminal law bulletin says that 10,000 people are wrongfully convicted of serious crimes every year. One in every twenty-five people sentenced to death are innocent, Agent Morgan. Just since 1973, more than 160 people were exonerated from the death penalty. That’s not even counting the people who were killed. But you sure as hell aren’t about to make me apart of that statistic because you want to waste your time trying to piece an investigation around me. That’s not how you’re supposed to do your job. So until you can remember how to do it correctly, I do need a lawyer. Thank you.”

By the time you finish you’ve leaned over the table, your index finger jammed into the wood to make your point. It feels like your chest is on fire as you slam back into your seat and cross your arms, determined to keep your silence for the rest of the time you were forced to sit here.

Everyone on the opposite side of the mirror is stunned into silence, their eyes focused on you even as Derek gathers all the things from the desk and walks out looking a little flustered himself. If Spencer was totally honest, your outburst was actually kind of hot. He has to remind himself that you may have killed eight people in cold blood.

Your lawyer makes it to the BAU in record time, his red hair expertly gelled back from his face. His icy blue eyes only cracking when he sees you sitting by yourself in the interrogation room. Spencer can tell by the way that he lowers himself on the balls of his feet to talk to you, reaching out to touch the hand that sits on your thigh, that he knows you personally. He likes you, actually. Spencer tried to tell himself that it doesn’t make him glad when you pull your hand out of his and awkwardly pat his arm.

He’s been lying to himself a lot today.

Hotch is the one to go back in the room, he was the best at dealing with lawyers. Unfortunately his best wasn’t enough to keep you in custody and soon your lawyer, who Spencer learned was named Jeremy, was walking you out of the room for the first time in six hours.

Your back cracks when you stand, your shoulders rolling back to try and ease some of the stress you’d been holding there since this morning. The sound of the door swinging open for you is almost heavenly, the feel of the air outside of the room is damn near enough to make you cry.

When you look to the side, ready to leave out the second door that leads into the hallway and away from this mess, you meet eyes with the only profiler of the BAU that you hadn’t seen that day. Spencer looks back at you with an expression that you find hard to put into words.

He almost looks sorry, the regret evident in the slight widening of his eyes, but at the same time his chin is tilted up like he is facing an enemy he has vowed to take down no matter the cost. His shoulders are squared, but his arms are uncrossed and his palms are open.

And even though you knew you wouldn’t be there without him knowing, the reassurance that Spencer knew and even suspected you is like a blow to the chest and stomach. It robs you of air, causing you to stumble.

Jeremy reaches to steady you. You shake him off, pulling your eyes from the young doctor and focusing all of your attention on the door knob.

“I’m fine, Jeremy.” Your tone of voice is more harsh than you intended but you’re still struggling to collect oxygen, even when you slide into your car by yourself, it feels like you can’t get enough air. The walk from the BAU offices to the parking lot had passed in a blur. Jeremy’s talk about staying at home and keeping your head low had gone by even faster, and now that you have time to truly be by yourself, everything hits like a ton of bricks thrown at you from a speeding train.

In the midst of your panic attack, gasping for air into the palms of your shaking hands, questioning everything about yourself and your career, you don’t register the shuffle of movement in your backseat. You’re so deep in your mind that you almost don’t notice the cool press of a gun barrel against the back of your neck until a familiar voice lifts your head from your hands.

“Drive.”

[imaginedhaven]

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Fourteen

Link to Masterpost

Another day, another chapter! These words have been fighting to get onto the page for so long they’re just flying by now that it’s their time. I hope you enjoy.

~*~*~

“So, let me get this straight,” Aedion drawled as he watched Whitethorn pace around the room.

He had to fight a grin as the warrior growled. “What could possibly be so difficult for you to comprehend?”

“Well, let’s start with the fact that you visited my cousin in the night, knowing full well she had already promised herself to someone else.” He knew, of course, that Aelin had ended things with Dorian weeks ago, but watching the color leave Whitethorn’s face was well worth the lie of omission. Before the warrior could say anything in his defense, Aedion carried on. “You have some sort of interaction with her you won’t discuss further. You leave in a hurry, but return to her room later, and she and her belongings have mysteriously vanished.”

“Yes,” Whitethorn snarled.

Aedion bit back a laugh as he watched Whitethorn resume his pacing. “And what, precisely, do you intend for me to do about it? Sounds to me like you’ve created this situation yourself.”

“You’re being too hard on him,” Lysandra called from the next room.

“Am I? He’s admitted to having some sort of late night encounter with my dear cousin, and botching it to the point that she runs away. I don’t think I’m being too hard at all.”

Whitethorn growled at him, exposing elongated canines before opening his mouth to speak, but Aedion simply lifted a hand to demand his silence. “Luckily for you,” he continued, “I have information that you don’t.”

He finally laughed as he watched the warrior freeze. “What information?”

“It doesn’t feel nearly as good to be the one without all the details, does it?” Aedion grinned.

“Play nicely!” called Lysandra.

Aedion sighed and shook his head. “First of all,” he revealed, “I know that Aelin ended things with Dorian almost three weeks ago now. The prince is due to make it public today.”

Whitethorn’s eyes widened. “She did?”

“She did. I’m not certain why she didn’t see fit to tell you, other than the fact that she’s been complaining to my mate about you avoiding her.” A pointed accusation to be sure, but Aedion had to admit he wasn’t feeling especially generous. They had bonded to an extent, certainly, but the male in front of him had just admitted to hurting his beloved cousin. He wasn’t going to make it easy for him to win back her affections.

The guilt that crossed Whitethorn’s face brought him some satisfaction in that regard. “I had orders, though that isn’t much of an excuse.”

“The second thing I know,” Aedion said instead of directly addressing the remark, “is that Aelin never intended to marry Dorian in the first place, nor he her.”

That particular fact wasn’t especially relevant to the current situation, but Aedion had to admit he was reveling in seeing such shock on Whitethorn’s face. It wasn’t every day that someone got to surprise a centuries-old blood-sworn fighter of Queen Maeve’s, after all.

Whitethorn’s shock faded to a contemplative frown, and Aedion knew the warrior would be piecing together any evidence he happened to have witnessed. Before he could get too far, though, Aedion had one final piece of information to reveal. “The final piece of information I have and you don’t is Aelin’s current location.”

Green eyes turned to him in a fierce glare. “You’ve known where she was this entire time,” he growled.

“Yes,” he admitted. “And my task was to stall you long enough that you couldn’t stop her, which I’ve done splendidly.”

“Stop her from what, exactly?” A part of Aedion noted Whitethorn’s obvious anger with a thrill of fear; the male was a highly capable warrior, after all, and with his magic as well Aedion wasn’t confident he could actually win a serious fight between them.

That being said, another part of him was delighted that he currently held power in the form of information, and that he had the ability to rile someone so famed for his foul but consistent disposition. With that in mind, Aedion launched one final barb. “I’m certain you could figure it out, if you took your time. Unless, of course, there’s more than one thing you know she could do that you would feel… compelled… to stop her from doing.”

The word was a hint that was far from subtle, and Rowan Whitethorn was no fool. As Aedion watched, he sat down hard in a nearby chair, eyes wide. “She’s going to Maeve.”

It wasn’t a question, but he responded regardless. “She is. Lysandra is to go back to Orynth in her place, disguising herself as Aelin until she reaches the border. I’ve sent letters ahead of us to Terrasen, to let the regent know of Aelin’s side trip. I am to follow behind her, now that it won’t raise suspicion and now that we’re unlikely to catch her before she reaches Doranelle.”

“And you let her?” Whitethorn demanded, incredulous. “Are you insane? Nothing good can come of the two of them meeting.”

“Yes to your first question, the second is debatable. And Aelin seems to think something good can come of it.” Aedion finally relented, letting his own expression soften. “But she can’t do it alone. I’m to follow her on the next ship to Wendlyn. Are you coming with me?”

“Of course I’m coming with you,” Whitethorn replied, no hesitation in his voice. “But before we do this, there’s something you should know. I don’t want your surprise to be a hindrance should a certain situation arise.”

“What is it that you think I should know?”

Aedion frowned as he caught a glimmer of regret in Whitethorn’s eyes. “I know who your father is, and we may come across him on our way to Maeve.”

Aedion’s world came to a grinding halt.

~*~*~

Aelin slipped off of the ship and into Wendlyn with a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been overly seasick on the journey, which she supposed was a relief, but she had kept to her cabin regardless out of a desire to remain as anonymous as possible. After all, Aelin Galathynius, Crown Princess of Terrasen, would attract undue attention.

Celaena Sardothien, the eccentric assassin, however, was someone from whom everyone kept their distance.

It was just as well, really. Aelin didn’t particularly want to talk to anyone on the voyage anyway. She had to maintain her focus on her plan. Instead, she had focused on the physical fitness drills Aedion had taught her so long ago and on sharpening the knives she had brought. If the other passengers thought her distant and cold, well, that was so much the better. The wildfire running through her veins was not intended for them.

Varese was several days’ travel from the port at which she’d landed, but some quick negotiations bought her a horse and food enough for the journey. She kept the hood of her cloak up for the entirety of the trip, both to maintain relative anonymity and to keep the hot rays of the sun away from her face.

She had heard that this land, the land of her mother’s family, was far warmer than the mountains to which she was accustomed. She had presumed it would be roughly equivalent to the summer days of Rifthold, if she gave the matter any thought at all. She had been terribly mistaken; the heat and humidity threatened to overwhelm her at the height of each day, forcing her to veer away from the road and seek shade and water for herself and for her mount.

It might have been easier to simply turn south and ride for Doranelle directly. It certainly would have taken less time. However, she had a favor to ask and a message to ensure the royal family of Wendlyn received, and so to Varese she went.

As she neared the city walls, she took a deep breath to steel her nerves. My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, she reminded herself, and I will not be afraid.

She reminded herself of this again as guards surrounded her at the city gate.

For all her nerves, though, the Ashryver line was well-loved in their own capital city. One look at her face and at her eyes, the turquoise-and-gold shared across most of her maternal line, and she was quickly ushered into a side room. “You’ve been expected,” a guard told her as she was left in a room with wine and some sort of flatbread.

Several minutes later, the door opened, and Aelin turned her attention to the room’s newest entrant.

But for their eyes, it would have been nearly impossible to tell that Galan Ashryver was of any relation to her. His dark hair and olive skin were far better suited to the climate of his homeland, whereas her pale complexion and golden hair fit her mountain home. But the Ashryver line produced turquoise eyes ringed with gold in most of its heirs, and when her gaze met his she saw the shared heritage.

Aelin stood and bowed slightly, wishing she had thought to bring finer clothes than her riding leathers. “Cousin, it is a great pleasure to meet at long last.”

Rather than stand on formalities, Galan pulled her into an embrace. “Well met, cousin, though I wish you had better news to bring me.”

Aelin smiled thinly. “There is hope yet,” she said. “I bring the proof I mentioned, along with confirmation that the Havilliards stand behind my actions thus far as well as those yet to come. I did not have time to hear from the Queen of the Wastes or the royal family of Eyllwe before my journey to you began, though I am certain that if you were to converse with Prince Dorian Havilliard he will have confirmation soon.”

As she watched, Galan skimmed through the papers she produced, brow furrowed in thought. “This certainly does seem compelling,” he murmured. “Though it concerns me that this was forgotten so long ago, if it is indeed true.”

“My greatest wish is that I am proven incorrect about the worst of my suspicions, though there is certainly much that needs to be answered regardless. I ride south to speak to our dear aunt, as quickly as possible.”

“You plan to ask her directly?”

“I do. If she can answer to my satisfaction, there need not be further action. And if our worst fears are realized…” She called one of her flames to appear in her hand, twining around her wrist like a bracelet before disappearing. She grinned up at her cousin. “I can take care of myself.”

Galan’s eyes widened. “So the reports of you inheriting Brannon’s power are true,” he remarked, “though your control is far better than reported.”

“I’ve spent a great deal of the past months improving my control,” she replied. “I’ve ignored my heritage for far too long, it would seem.”

Her cousin sighed and set the papers aside. “As you certainly know, I cannot give you the full approval of the crown of Wendlyn. That honor resides with my father still.”

Aelin nodded; she had suspected as much.

“However,” he continued, “I have full command of Wendlyn’s armies. I hope they will not be needed in this situation, but if the need arises I will aid you however I can.”

She smiled and stood. “Then you have my thanks, my dear cousin.”

“Will you need rooms here, to rest before carrying on with your journey?”

“You’re too kind,” she replied. “But no, I’m afraid I cannot delay. One of her blood-sworn warriors follows me, and I have already lingered too long.”

“The one you mentioned in your letter? I believed you to be friendly, from the way you spoke of him.”

“A blood oath does not recognize friendship beyond that of the sworn to his keeper. If she commands him to prevent me from arriving, he will be unable to do anything but comply. I wish to avoid placing him into such a situation if at all possible.”

“I understand,” Galan replied. “Do you wish me to attempt to detain him?”

“You will not be able to, though I appreciate your offer. No, it is best if Wendlyn remain neutral until it is absolutely necessary. Though with all luck, we may yet be able to avoid an incident we would all come to regret.”

“I certainly hope so. Go, then, cousin. Go with our blessing, and with our hopes for as peaceful an end as may be achieved.”

Aelin smiled and embraced him once more before they went their separate ways, him to report to his parents and her to continue her journey.

~*~*~

Aelin rode for Doranelle as quickly as she could, and soon she was once more within a forest. It was both hotter and more humid than those she called home, but it was still at least somewhat familiar.

Slightly less familiar and more unnerving was the continuous sensation that she was being watched. Obstacles she had spied along the path seemed to clear themselves before she could reach them, and occasionally she could swear she saw eyes peeking out from behind branches.

It wasn’t until the night before she reached her aunt’s borders that she finally faced some of the creatures that had been watching her, and she wasn’t certain whether to find it relieving or unnerving to discover that it had been the Little Folk watching her all along.

She had encountered their kindred in Terrasen, living quietly in the Oakwald Forest and preferring to remain largely unseen. If she lingered in the forest they had a tendency to leave small gifts along her path, little trinkets or particularly beautiful flowers.

These faeries had done more than leave an individual flower, though, for as she watched several of them placed a crown of beautiful red blossoms on a stone before her.

She could not name the flowers they had chosen. They appeared to be similar to the kingsflame that graced Terrasen during times of peace, but the blossoms were slightly larger and a different shade. Still, it was a crown that was all too appropriate for the Heir of Fire, and it both warmed her heart and made her nervous to realize that these faeries recognized her heritage just as readily as those who lived in the land she called home.

Deciding that politeness was the best way to proceed, she lifted the crown with a smile. “You have my thanks,” she murmured to the few who lingered. “This is a beautiful gift indeed, and I will treasure it as long as it lasts.”

The remaining Little Folk fled; either because of some noise in the forest she had not heard, or because she had called attention to them, she couldn’t be certain. She placed the crown of flowers atop her head regardless; it would be rude to thank them for their gift and then proceed to cast it aside.

The sun finally rose enough for her to see the path once more, and Aelin continued onward, wishing for the hundredth time that her secondary form was something more useful than a human shape. If she had been a bird like Rowan, she could have already completed her journey.

Aelin frowned. Perhaps it was best not to think of Rowan. Not now, when she was so close to her aunt’s territory and she needed to keep her wits about her. It was difficult to avoid thinking of him, however. How much had Aedion revealed to him by now? Had he followed at all? If he had, was it to fulfill his blood oath to her aunt and stop her, or was he going to attempt to help her however he could?

With a sigh, she realized that she had far too little information to speculate on his future actions. The only thing she could be reasonably certain of was that he would not directly harm her unless he was specifically ordered by Maeve to do so.

Depending on when exactly he caught up to her, the likelihood of her giving such an order was relatively high. Her aunt was known for many things, but her kindness and forgiving nature were not among them.

Perhaps it was for the best if he didn’t follow. She would have to alter significant portions of her plan, but he would be kept safe. Even as she thought it, though, she knew he would never be content to remain safe while others endangered themselves. No, he would come, to whatever end. All she could do was hope that she could make that a happier end than it would’ve otherwise become.

Resolve strengthened, she carried on along her path, and soon she was met by the calling of wolves.

These wolves, she knew, would be no ordinary creatures. No, these were sentinels for Maeve herself, loyal only to her. If her aunt wished it, these wolves would turn her away. If she pressed onward regardless, they would tear her apart if Maeve gave the order. No one outside of Doranelle was certain of the exact means of her control over these creatures, or even if they truly were wolves. Aelin supposed it didn’t truly matter. All that mattered was that they allow her to pass.

As two of the wolves approached her, she dismounted from her horse and walked out to meet them. It wouldn’t do to spook her mount unnecessarily, and it seemed wise to be as respectful as she could manage. “Greetings,” she called, and the wolves inclined their heads toward her.

She allowed some of her fire to manifest in the palm of her hand, twisting it around her fingers and wrist as she had done for Galan several days prior. “I am Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” she said, “Princess of Terrasen. Heir of Brannon and of Mala Fire-bringer. You may know me as Aelin Fireheart, or perhaps Aelin of the Wildfire. I have come to meet with my aunt, Queen Maeve of the Fae of Doranelle.”

As the wolves looked on, she allowed her eyes to glow with the wildfire of her determination. She would not be stopped. She would see her aunt, and make her answer for all Aelin had learned.

Finally, the wolves moved to either side of the path, bowing their heads. Aelin simply walked back to her horse and swung herself into the saddle once more. She would be allowed to pass, and the wolves knew it.

Aelin smirked as she rode on, knowing the wolves were following her every movement now that she was truly within Maeve’s territory. It wouldn’t be long now. She would have her answers, and Rowan’s freedom, and perhaps even her own happiness.

All she had to do was fight for it with every ounce of strength she had within her.

~*~*~

“We’re less than a day behind her,” Rowan relayed to Aedion after meeting with the wolves that guarded the edge of Maeve’s territory.

The other warrior only nodded in reply. He had been remarkably quiet throughout the journey, and Rowan wasn’t certain whether it was the absence of his mate or the revelation of his heritage that had given him so much to think about. Perhaps it was both.

The male was taking it remarkably well, all things considered. He had occasionally asked quiet questions about what Gavriel was like, and Rowan had volunteered stories of his mentor and friend well into the night. He had been avoiding one question in particular, though, and it was this question that came forward as they began to move again. “Does he even know I exist?”

Rowan sighed. “I’m not certain. If he knows, he hasn’t told any of us. And that is certainly the correct decision if he does know; none of us would have been able to hide your existence if asked.”

“Because of the blood oath you all swore.”

It wasn’t a question, but Rowan nodded regardless. “She would use you against him at the slightest opportunity, as she uses anyone and everyone one of her blood-sworn holds dear.”

He had known, of course, what manner of female Maeve had been when he had sworn himself into her service. He’d known that she could be cruel, and merciless, and vindictive. He hadn’t cared, then; he’d welcomed it, even. Some part of him, the part that cried out for a mate that was no longer there, had relished it. It was, after all, no worse than what he deserved.

Doubt had begun to enter his mind when she had recruited Connall and then Fenrys, the Black Wolf and White Wolf. The way she had gone about it, and the way Fenrys in particular struggled against the oath constantly thereafter, were further indications of Maeve’s unique cruelty for anyone who cared to look. Rowan hadn’t, then, still convinced it was what he deserved. They had made their choice as much as he had; perhaps they’d had their reasons as well.

His doubts hadn’t truly manifested until he had explained his story to Aelin, and felt nothing but relief as she accepted all of him. He still believed that he deserved his fate; however, she deserved far better than to be entangled with such a dark court. If all had gone according to Maeve’s plan, he would have reported everything to her and Aelin would never have been safe again.

Rowan shook his head. It was pointless to think about; if there was a way to break a blood oath that didn’t result in death, he wasn’t aware of it. This was to be his fate, and he only hoped that Aelin could win her freedom from this life.

If she managed to free him as well, somehow, he would savor every moment of it and follow her to whatever end.

A ray of warm sunlight pierced through the clouds and he felt a strange sense of comfort, as though the goddess that had so blessed Aelin with her gift of fire had heard his thoughts and deigned to answer. Almost involuntarily, his eyes slid closed as he enjoyed the moment of warmth and peace. Too soon, however, the ray of sunlight passed on, and Rowan was left with only his divided thoughts once more.

Aedion was evidently only too happy to add to those doubts. “Did you know, when you swore to her, that she was like this? Did he?”

“We all did,” he said wearily. “We all had our own reasons for swearing the oath. What Gavriel’s were, I do not know. But we were under no illusions, if that’s what you ask. Every one of us knows what Maeve is capable of doing to those who cross her, as well as the rewards she bestows on those she grants her favor.” Both, of course, were twisted in their own way, but he wasn’t attempting to draw this conversation out any longer than he had to. If Aedion wanted answers to the questions he was actually asking, he would need to confront his father. “We should keep moving,” he said to cut off yet another question. “We don’t have long, if Aelin’s plan is truly for us to catch up to her as Maeve welcomes her.”

The journey into Doranelle was thankfully swift and free of obstacles, and soon they stood before the stone walls of the city that he called home but that felt like a cage. A tugging sensation near his heart, one that had been present since he had learned of Aelin’s departure, strengthened as they passed through the gates. It seemed that, though she had given no further explicit instructions, the blood oath demanded that Rowan act regardless.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to come.

It was too late to turn back now, though, and so instead he quietly led Aedion through the streets of the city, drawing ever closer to a palace made of stone at the center of the city built on the rivers. With each step, he thought another silent plea to whatever god or goddess may have cared to listen. For Aelin. For himself. For the warrior beside him. For the father who had never known his son. For the twins who had ensnared each other in Maeve’s grasp. If he was going to entertain desperate prayers that were unlikely to be realized, he might as well include Vaughan and Lorcan as well, though if Lorcan was somehow set free he was as likely to curse his liberator as he was to thank them.

He slipped them through a side door into the palace, down familiar halls and up familiar staircases. All the while, he was trying to mentally prepare himself for what they would face when they reached the room Maeve preferred for audiences. He realized quickly that it was futile, however; he couldn’t predict what Aelin would do, or how Maeve would react to an unknown force.

He especially couldn’t predict the words that froze him where he stood as they reached the door to Maeve’s audience chamber.

“So tell me,” Aelin was drawling, “how long have you known that you held the mate of the future Queen of Terrasen in a blood oath?”

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou

[goth-girlfriend]

Hear me out: Reader who is richer than Shoto and Momo combined. They have a reputation of being stuck up and transfer into UA by STRONG recommendation. Everyone avoids her out of fear of being caught in rich wrath. But it’s not until the Bakusquad make a joke with her they realize what a complete idiot/nerd/funny person she is. Denki *makes joke about reader being to rich* Reader *pulls out hundreds to wipe tears and throws them on the floor when the tears are gone* If you can please? 😊❤️❤️

Request: “Sorry to message you! I but I sent a recent ask! I was going to ask if you could add the reader having like mesmerizing long black hair and killer brows and false lashes? Bonus if she ends up with Best Boom Boy!

I love this honestly! I’ll do my best to answer this the best I can! I’m assuming Bakugo right? I hope so, ☺️

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader + Friend Bakusquad

🖤💥❤️🧡🖤💚🖤🧡❤️🧡🖤💚🖤🧡❤️💥🖤

Class 1-A was bustling with conversation at the news they’d just gotten. A new student would be joining the class Mid Semester. The daughter of a well known known man in Japan.

The Family name foreign, (L/n), It’s been in Japan no longer than four generations. And they’d already come to sit on the top of the money empire. Being rich and known would be a good thing for anyone aspiring to become a hero. It was a lie, often times press would take chances to start rumors and make false accusations leading the newest generation of (L/n) to be held to a new standard.

“I know! Everyone makes her out to be stuck up, snobby and rude!”

Morning

“Aren’t the (L/n)’s the family the Hero Times magazine compared to other families? If I’m right they said Her family dwarfs the Yaoyorozu, Iida, and Todoroki families combined!”

“I heard she had press locked up and cameras destroyed for taking her picture!”

“Oh! I saw a video from her middle school days! You can’t really make her out, but she brought a girl to her knees in-front of the school! For something she did....”

“Oh! She must be the girl who took down a group of boys because one of them brushed shoulders with her!”

“No way! I heard she got a boy expelled because she thought he was looking down on her!”

“She s-sounds scary, I don’t think I want to talk to her.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna run the risk of getting kicked out of U.A., not after all the hard work I put in to get here.”

The chatter continued, on the other side of the door, hearing every comment stood (Y/n), her brows furrowed slightly in anger. She released the tension in her brows, they rested in their usual place. Her brows fell into her natural RBF as she sighed, she looked at the Principal, the dog/bear/mouse beside her smiled and knocked. It was answered by the Teacher she had met not to long again Erased Head, or as she’d be introduced. Shota Aizawa.

“I’ll leaver her in your capable hands, make sure she gets a good view on what U.A. iS really about.” He smiled and waved at the teacher and left without word.

Aizawa let the girl enter and stand at the front of the class room. He stepped over to his desk picking up a black folder with a golden crest printed on the front. It was the information U.A. has asked for when you applied.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself.” Aizawa said staring at at the first part of your folder. A record for my our old school, no tardies, no absences, no missing work, no violations, no record punishment, no reported incidents, No grade under a 98. Class representative, president of 6 clubs, President of Student Body Council, 4.0 GPA, in quirk control you placed number one in your school, In your school Sport festival you came in first, Cultural Festival you’d brought in the most donations and had a recommendation letter from almost every teacher and both the principal and vice principal.

I stood silent for a minute staring the class over, recognizing every weak point. I didn’t bother smiling, they probably would be scared anyway. I looked through the corner of my eyes to the window.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n), call me (l/n), I don’t have time to waste on friends, formalities. You bunch of extras would probably just drag me down, I don’t expect much from any of you. I reached the top of my class with ease, and by just looking at you I can tell it won’t be any different.” I scoffed and looked over the class. I

It definitely struck some nerves.

“WHO THE HELL DID YOU JUST CALL AN EXTRA YOU TRASH.” A blonde boy with red eyes glared at me popping up from his seat.

Pops coming from his hand, I stared his down, “What are you doing?” I scoffed, “With pop rocks like that the only thing you’d be scaring it probably a kitten.”

“I’ll kill you!” He screamed bringing his hand up.

“Bet.” Was all is said, a watched his hand and the bright light starting to form, with a quick hand sign he fell face first into the floor arms bound behind his back.

I watched him struggle, explosions forming in his palms. Everyone watched him, stares no longer on me I turned to Aizawa.

“Take a seat in the back by the window, it’s the only open desk.” He said closing the file.

I looked ahead not bothering to look at anyone or make eye contact, I say down and moved my hair so I wouldn’t sit on it. I brought my hands to my nape and pushed them back pushing my hair over my back and into the space between my back and the chair. It felt pooling into the part of the chair I didn’t take and overflowing on sides where he chair didn’t catch. It dangled just an inch from the floor. I held my bag beside me. As I got adjusted to my seat and finally looked ahead to the front of class. I felt stares as I started to pull out my notebook, pen, and pencil. 🖤

I ignored it and went about my business, by the end of the day I heard whispers of why the things I used were so expensive. They hadn’t seen my phone yet, it’d definitely kill them if just a brand note book had them like this. The day was finally coming to an end, during lunch I stayed in class, afraid of sitting alone, I’d rather be alone and unseen rather than alone and stared at.

I sighed and looked at my bag, class was coming to an end for the day, and Aizawa was standing at front in his sleeping bag. Everyone was talking, some sitting on desks. I pulled out my phone, over a thousand notifications on my public social media’s, my dads manager saying I need to become friendlier with the public because of the appearance the press keeps trying to force onto me.

‘I set up some social media accounts for you just post about your day, make some friends post about them, just show the public you aren’t who they’re trying to make you out to be.’

I scoffed at his words but nodded just agreeing, if it’s for my dad I’d try my best. So here I am switching between accounts and now on public Snapchat scrolling through chats answering a few and adding people back so it feel more ‘personal’

“Do you see that?” I heard a whisper.

“Do you think it’s real?”

“It’s huge! If it’s real it must cost a fortune!”

“Look it up.....”

The room was silent for a minute,

“No way, the company only made a few and they sold for 48.5 million, and that was an IPhone six, that’s literally the newest iPhone, so it ages to be worth double even triple what the six was!”

“Go ask,” “Dude, no you go ask.”

“I’m scared,” “You probably should be.”

The bell rang and I was up and gone, no point in sticking around. I found a stair case, it led up to the roof. I followed it, it was so high. I walked over to the railing, I watched people pour out rushing to dorms or wherever else. I dropped my bag on the gravel floor and reached for my phone in my pocket, I held up my camera to the sun, the sky was turning orange. I took a picture, the sun rays peaking through the clouds.

I waited it out a bit longer, I felt a smile graze my face for the first second time today. My friend was posting on her story pictures we’d taken last year today. We skipped school to go to arcades, she met her boyfriend of one year now, we had boba, bought a bunch of merch, and just stayed out till night had claimed the sky. We walked home, bags in tow, uniforms scrunched up, cheeks sore from laughing and smiling the whole day.

Just as I finished the story I got another notification, a message from her. I opened it it was a video, unknown to us it was my last day at my old High school.

“Awww, I love you!” She hugged me, I hugged her back, “Love your too loser.”

“We’ll be best friends and together forever right?” She smiled as we rocked back in forth in the hug.

“I wouldn’t leave you for the world.” I laughed.

“Well just act like I’m not here,” her boyfriends voice in the background.

“I will, bros before.....hoes.....” she laughed and I smiled shaking my head.

“Come on, ill pay dinner.” I said and the video stopped.

‘You loser 😭 I didn’t feel like crying today, it’s my first day of school.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have left me 😭

‘I didn’t even know 😢’

‘🤔 Mhm, we need to meet up soon, it’s only been a day but I already miss you 😢’

‘Aight Bet.’

‘A challenge? 👀’

‘Saturday the usual? 😎’

‘I accept your invitation.’

The conversation ended and I headed to the dorms. This repeat for the next few days, I met with my friend Saturday and told her about my dads managed, she agreed every weekend we’d meet up and feed the public. After a month of this I was sitting in class minding my business, I cracked a smile at my phone and quickly wiped it away realizing I was still being watched.

“Sooo, (l/n)?” I looked up, the boy everyone called Denki leaning on my desk.

I cocked a brow, “Hm?”

“I’m in need of money, and I’ve been shot down twice, sooo, let’s make a bet a gamble really. If you win I’ll pay you, but if I win you pay me.” He sounded so cocky, I squinted at him brows furrowed.

I reached into my bag bringing out my wallet “I don’t waste time just take a donation.” I pulled out six hundred and handed it over like it was nothing.

“Oh....thanks? I guess it’s easier to pay people off when your loaded,” It sounded more like a joke.

I felt a small smile and pulled out another hundred, “Sometiwms you have to buy friends, it’s sad I know.” I patted fake tears and dropped the money ont he floor.

“But you know what they say,” I held the hundred out to him, “You feel better when you cry in a Ferrari.” I let out a single laugh, and then realized the mistake I made when I smield as he laughed.

“I knew you weren’t completely heartl-” I cut him off,

“Don’t talk about it, I’ll pay you off to never mention it.” He laughed and smiled a hand reaching to the back of his neck.

“Call us friends and you won’t even have to pay me.” He smiled.

“Deal.” I answered.

He opened his phone and held it out, “here add your number.”

I sigehd and added my number, he sent me a message and I saved him number.

“Alright new friend, I’ll see you later.”

He waved and walked off as the bell rang.The next day I was dragged to lunch and sat between Denki and Bakugo. I don’t know what to do, so I just drank water, I tried to talk to Mina when she talked to em but they all seemed so tense except for Denki.This became my schedule for the weeks to come.

“I’m hungry,” I grumbled into my phone.

Denki had FaceTimed me at 2 in the morning.

“Then go eat, nobody’s up except you and me.” He shrugged sitting on his bed under his blanket.

“Alright, I’ll be back. so just stay here.” I propped my phone up he had a view of my room from the prop my phone was on.

“Oooo, even your room looks like it belongs to a rich girl. Definitely fancier then Yaoyorozu’s.” He looked around to see what he could.

“Nice, I’ll be back I’m going to find.... dinner?”

“MKay.” Was all he said as he yawned.

I grabbed my second phone and popped in my AirPods, I started to play my music on shuffle. Making it to the Kitchen I was vibing with my music and getting into it. I started to make a sandwich and doing weird dances. I smiled and finally started to Clean up.The song Falling for you, started to play and for some reason my mind went to a certain blonde. I smield to myself, thinking about him. I fluffed my hair and ran my finger over my lashes. I felt the tips of my hair brushing my bare legs.

I smiled and picked up my sandwich and started a new dance with hip movement when the song Hotel Room Sevrvice came on. I started to turn to walk away stopping when I met familiar eyes.

“So, the edgy princess isn’t who she acts to be.” I swallowed, staring at him, his biceps were huge, especially in that muscle shirt.

I got a message form Denki, I’d given him my second number, “SOMEONES HEADED YOUR WAY!”

“Heeeyyy Bakugo....” I was caught, no point in hiding.

“What are you doing up this late?” He asked unamused.

“Well,” I looked at my sandwich, “I was looking for food but an even better snack walked in.” I winked at him.

He made a grunt.

“No? Not Good enough?” I asked an dlwaned against the counter.

“No.”

“How about are you a tombstone cause is nat you on top of me,” I did finger guns this time putting my sandwich down.

“Anything better?” He asked his eyes narrowing.

“Are you a sinning ship? Because I really wanna go down on you.....” I didn’t fight back the smile.

I heard him cough, and I smiled as I noticed a very faint blush.

“Want me try again?” I asked with a cheeky smile.

He didn’t answer he just looked at me,

“You can call me a coffin cause I want you be in-“ I couldn’t finsh I looked and licked my top lip, I assume she understood what I meant but wanted to finsh “inside me.”

At that point I forgot my hunger, I was hungry something else, nothing particularly dirty but some attention.

“Well Katsuki,” I casually walked over to him pushing myself into his side tilting my head onto his shoulder and looking up at him. “I know we definitely have a lot of bad reactions, but I say we should experiment with this chemistry we have going on.”

I pulled his left arm from across his chest and held his hand between my palms, “You look like you’d enjoy someone who would totally dominate you.” I pulled back and placed a soft kiss on his shoulder.

“What do you say?” I asked squeezing his arm.

“Yeah right,” he scoffed and looked down at me.

“Come on, from what I’ve heard you wanted to be called a king, I can make you feel like a king.” I nuzzled against his shoulder.

“I’ll give you one date, but after that you’ll just be an extra so you’ll have to stay out of my way.” He said and brushed it off like it was nothing.

“Ill make sure you don’t regret it.” I stretched and kissed his cheek and booked it out of there sandwich in tow.

“YOU WONT BELIEVE IT.” I screamed at Denki who was still on face time.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“Soooooo?” I hugged Bakugo’s waist as the class gathered around in the gym.

Everyone in costume, “You look so fine dressed in your hero uniform.” I said and trailed my hand up the giant gauntlet on his wrist.

“Hm.”He grunted ignoring the stares of disbelief. “Whatever.”

The moment we broke of into our Duos to play an all to competitive game of catch the flag we stopped in the middle of the trading grounds, I was pulled into his chest, his right hand brushing my hair from the top of my head to my lower back. “Your hair is so long,” He mumbled I felt him take a hand full and pull on it, I was weak in the knees almost instantly.

I looked up at him batting my eyelashes, “There you go batting your fake lashes just to distract me.” He grunted.

“I’d agree with you if they’re weren’t real.” I smield and blinked slowly.

“Well aren’t you just gorgeous.” He snarled and he kissed the top of my head

“Now out of my way Extra I’m leading you so don’t leave my side or get in the way.” He stepped aside and looked down at me.

“You and I both know your better at taking Commands. But I’ll play obedient, only for you Katsuki.” I winked at him.

He turned with a growl, “Let’s just go beat that damn nerd.”

[fatbottombucky]

What’s The Diagnostic? They’re Obliviously In Love |StevexBucky|

Summary:Avengers Assemble Hospital is a non-profit hospital. It's also a teaching hospital to Interns and Students. Some of the best minds work, teach, and learn at the hospital. Dr Rogers and Dr Barnes have been friends through thick and thin, both meeting in Med School- when Steve used to get into fights with more students than he'd ever admitted.  They're both about to relive Steve's first marriage as his first-wife is back, she wants to try again and Steve thinks this is it for him; he's an almost 40yr old-man, who doesn't get out much. Whilst Steve is dealing with his past, James, is dealing with the Chairman of The Board, Mr Rumlow, who hates him. A personal vendetta is what Rumlow has, James can't figure out why. Rumlow also has a keen interest in Steve, as if Steve needs more attention- this angers Barnes more.  Their co-workers have a bet going on. Their long time patients are trying to set them up. Rogers and Barnes are helpless and oblivious...They're also RoomMates. 

±Inspired by House MD; House and Wilson's relationship/ Diagnostic job is used for Bucky±

Ratings: (+18) Explicit Content

Warnings: SLOW BURN!!!! Will be displayed here when appropriate

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Notes:  Each chapter is titled as 'Episodes', to clarify, if three chapters are titled "Episode One" that means those three chapters exist within the same time frame (AKA those chapters happen over a singular day or span over a week).

Episode One- The Deduction of Steve Rogers

11:00 am Wreck Room

"Have you told him?" Steve looks up from the staff's coffee machine to see Natasha, she's leaning against the table with her arms crossed. She's still dressed in her scrubs, despite being in surgery for plus five hours she still looks immaculate and beautiful. "He's going to find out soon, ya know? He's the master at deducing, heck, that's his entire job. There's no problem or puzzle that he can't solve."

Steve sighed, stirring the milk into the coffee for a second longer than necessary. "He's got a case right now. I have about," Steve looks at the clock on the wall and back to Natasha, "three more hours to think of how to break the news." He gives a little sigh and shakes his head, "I don't know why he'd be mad, she messaged me and I haven't even replied back, yet."

"You know how he gets," She shrugs, red hair pulled into a tight bun that she is currently taking down. "He's going to be figuring out why you haven't replied, he'll go into some in-depth explanation that'll explain why you didn't tell him straight away either- leading all towards the fact you want to message her."

Steve shakes his head, rolling his blue eyes as he taps the spoon three times against the rim of his mug before taking a thoughtful sip of his drink.

"Don't need to tell him now," giving her a pointed look, "you've been hanging around his office too much, Romanoff."

Natasha shrugs one shoulder, "I've been looking out for his newest intern, Parker. Stark wanted to make sure that Barnes didn't fire him within the first week, despite the demeaning comments the kid seems to be holding himself well."

Steve nodded and hears his phone beep, he checks and sees it's his ex-wife, his first ex-wife. Peggy Carter, his first real and true love, she's the one that pushed him into this job and supported him through his last year at Med School. He, honestly, thought she was it for him. They'd have a couple of kids together, work their respected jobs and raise a beautiful, happy family and grow old. But that didn't happen. In fact, on their second wedding anniversary, he was given divorce papers- by her lawyer, Edwin Jarvis.

Didn't see it coming. Sure, they had arguments like normal couples. Steve was dedicated to his job, he has to be because he's the Oncologist. There are people that are relying on him to form a good treatment plan; something that'll give them more time or help them beat their cancer. He never neglected his husband duties, he never neglected her and he never got a definitive answer to their divorce. What he does know is that James Barnes, his best friend, resents the woman and practically got Steve back on his feet after the divorce was finalised.

"You still not gonna answer her?"

'We need to talk, Steven.' Is the latest text that was sent to his phone, maybe they do need to talk, it'll get him some closure but he can't face her right now.

"I'm too busy, right now." He sighed and slipped the phone back into his pant pocket, "I've got to go over the recent funding for my department, Fury wants all documented and flies perfect for the Chairman that's coming this week. Meaning," he sighed and slipped his eyes to Natasha as he walks to the door, "I've gotta somehow get Barnes to do his own reports... or do them myself. He's also gotta do his six hours of clinic duty, but I might be going for overkill."

Steve walks out of the room, mug still in hand and turning, almost spilling the contents of his mug over the small intern. Parker is pushing a stretcher with Wanda on the other side, to save the coffee he holds it up and out of their way.

"Sorry, Dr Rogers, heading to surgery!" Wanda yells over her shoulder, blood splattered over her clothes.

Steve is almost tempted to follow, clearly, the Diagnostics Teams case is more complicated than they thought and James hadn't solved it just yet.

Meaning Steve had a couple of hours to get his work done before James starts snooping into his life, as normal. He has a few hours to reflect and act normal as if nothing has happened and therefore meaning his friend won't realise anything has happened.

1:34 pm Cafeteria

A body slides up beside Steve, plopping a Red Bull and a bowl of fries, plus a packet of Doritos onto his tray. Steve doesn't have to look to know it's James, but he looks anyway to see the usual neutral face of his friend. Steely eyes are looking back at him, there's a slight ghost of a smirk on his lips because he knows that Steve will complain... but pay for his lunch anyway.

"I'm adding all these lunches up, by the way. Giving you the bill at Christmas." Is all Steve mutters to him, standing in line behind a few clinic nurses; that are chatting amongst themselves.

James rolls his eyes, "My guy needs a Craniotomy," Completely changing the subject altogether, "can you get Wilson to do it?" Steve furrows his eyebrows and looks at him, crossing his arms over his chest when he faces him, shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms and a couple of pens in his shirt pocket. "He always puts me around the ringer, he'll say yes without question if you ask."

"I'm not asking Sam, if you need that surgery then you ask." Voice stern as he turns back and pulls out his wallet, nodding at the cashier, "for both," he mutters before handing over the money. James picks up the tray as he grabs the change, both walking over to a table and sitting down. "Don't throw my salad at me," he reprimands as James chucks the salad bowl at him.

"Oh, you mean that rabbit food?" James counters, pulling a chocolate bar from his pocket and opening it, Steve frowns when looking at him unwrapping the sweet treat. "You're gonna go up and pay for this, aren't you?"

Steve gives him a disapproving look. "Did you steal that?"

"I didn't if you go and pay for it," he laughs loudly when Steve gets up and walks to the counter, handing her the correct change and explaining before walking back to their table. "You're such a good boy, Rogers. So, what's been going on?"

Steve rolls his eyes, out of the two Barnes was the guy who cut corners. He believed that separating emotions from their work makes you a better Doctor, he could be right, but Steve has the belief that being emotional and leading with your emotions creates an environment that makes you want to save every patient. They're opposite ends of the spectrum. Bucky likes the thrill of puzzle-solving, getting that diagnostic and Steve likes saving his patients anyway he can.

Steve stopped mid-bite of his salad, glancing at James who wasn't even looking at him, opening his can of energy drink.

"Well, Fury has ordered all of us to get our paperwork done and I have, so do you want me to do yours?" James looks up and raises his eyebrows, "the new chairman of the board, Barnes. I don't want him to have more reasons to hate you, your personality already puts people off." Barnes gives a mock hurt face but nods in agreement. "I'll take your reports home tonight and do it for you."

They're silent for a few minutes, both eating in respective silence. James gets a few alerts on his pager, not bothering to check it; standard for him. Steve mostly talks, randomly talking about the wrestling match that they're going to have to record this weekend; he's working the night shifts. Telling James the usual bet wager is on, they always put in 200$ each and each, and every time, Barnes somehow wins- yet, Steve pays for his lunches.

Once they've finished their food and put their trash away they walk to the elevators. Stepping in and pressing the button for their floor, fortunately, their offices are next to one another. Something that Rogers later found out that Barnes requested, he wanted Steve closeby, possibly to annoy him as he does on the daily. James is often found in Steve's office, hiding from potential cases.

Steve glances at his wristwatch, present from his first wife-he's sentimental. Bucky calls him hopeless, perhaps he is. Peggy had brought that for him, a birthday present, and he has said he would pawn it off and buy himself a new watch. He just never has the time to go and look at watches or spend that amount on a decent one- the one Peggy got was decent, at least, that's what she had told him.

"You never answered my question," Steve quirks an eyebrow and looks at James, "About what's been going. You avoided the question and told me about work, we haven't caught up in almost two days because of my latest case." He looks expectingly at Steve, "could be because nothing new has happened, but you always update me on something new you've watched on Netflix and I know you have started something new. Something has happened; you don't want to tell me and it's either because it's bad or you just don't want to tell me."

The elevator doors open and they both step out, Steve looks at James and sighs softly.

"For once, please, just leave this alone." James tilts his head, he's only a few inches shorter than Steve. "It's not even that interesting or worth your time, trust me."

James nods once, "You don't want me to know and it's also bad, interesting." He smiles before walking to his office, just as his team shows up.

5:00pm Barnes' Office

"James, give me your paperwork." He has his coat hanging off an arm and his briefcase in the other, shoulder holding the glass door open.

Parker, Maximoff, and Jones all look up at Steve from their table. The whiteboard behind them have the patients different symptoms down, Steve briefly looks before watching James' attempt to lift the large stacks of files and papers. He notices the stiffness displayed in the left shoulder, how it locks-up and he can't move it, so Steve steps up and grabs the files.

An injury from years ago, he got it looked at even had surgery on that shoulder... to no avail. The pain lingers on. A reminder of his past life, a life that Steve never brings up out of respect for his friend.

"Hows the first wife?"

Steve stops and looks up, James doesn't wear a readable expression and Steve's throat tightens, daring to glance at the others in the room. He couldn't wait to bring this up privately, of course, he couldn't because it's James Barnes: when he figures something out he needs an audience. They all just watch as Steve has an internal battle within himself.

"It could be Non-Hodjikns-lymphoma," Jones pipes up, coat hanging off the back of her chair, clearly trying to get the conversation back onto the patient. "We've been thinking it's all in the head, but it could be pushing down on the spine and creating the symptoms we've seen in the brain."

"So I'm right," Barnes continues and Steve places the paperwork into his briefcase.

Finally looking at him once he clicks it shut. "I haven't even replied to her. It's nothing. I told you to leave this alone, so leave it."

"I just can't figure out why you weren't going to tell me," James leans against the wall and shrugs his shoulders as Steve looks at him with disbelief. "I'm your best friend, in fact, I'm your only friend that knows Peggy Carter and what she did to you. Why didn't you come to me first?" Before Steve can get a word in, James is off again, "Could be many things; you want to message her and me knowing would make it difficult, you know I would remind you of how evil she is. Could be because you aren't going to message her but you feel guilty, you want to message her but you know she's evil. It's something deeper, though."

Steve just sighs tiredly, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Bucky," the nickname he hardly ever uses a work because professionalism is Steve's forte, "It's five text messages, all of which I have received today. This is one piece of thread that is frayed and small, not everything deserves to be a puzzle and my life, what I do, isn't something to be discussed at work. Leave it." The room is silent, James gives a curt nod.

"50$ on you texting her before lunch tomorrow," James calls out before his office door closes, Steve grumbles to himself with a shake of his head when pressing the elevator button heading to the parking lot.

- Please let me know what you think, I really appreciate feedback and want to know if this is something you’re interested in. Let me know if you want to be tagged too :) Rosalie- 

Tagging: @starkerhowlter @atanoissapa @princessn-97 @oddone92 @rexburn12 @stevie-strawberry 

[beautifuljetblackheart]

Fight - Sam Holland

A/N: I am back... I had a BIG writers block and COVID really fucked me up, but hopefully I actually update more stories. This was a request from a while ago, I am sorry that it took a while to get it done Summary: Sam was away for about a month and after a while of not hearing from him you began to worry, especially when a big event was coming up and you wanted him there. Warnings: None, just an argument Words: 1894

I played with my thumbs as I waited until it struck seven. The studio had chosen my pictures to present, I looked around to see if Sam had shown up, but nothing, maybe he would show up late. I really want him to show up since he wasn’t able to attend the last two days and today was the last day. Besides that they will leave the pictures up for another week and take them down.

As I presented each picture and what is the meaning behind it. Every chance I got I would search for Sam but nothing. I kept sending him messages if he was going to be dropping by anytime soon but nothing. He hasn't been texting me for almost two weeks. Maybe he lost his phone and forgot my phone number.

A few friends of mine showed up and congratulated me for being lucky to have my pictures shown in the studio. Nikki showed up with Paddy, Tuwaine showed up with Harrison and Tom, the three guys approached me, “these pictures are amazing!” Tuwaine smiled and hugged me

“Thanks, I’m happy you guys came by for my last introduction”

“Is Sam here?” Tom questioned

“No, has he not returned from the trip?”

“Yeah, he got here two days ago,” my heart sunk down

“What? He- got here two days ago?” I started to feel embarrassed, my own boyfriend not telling me he was already here

“He didn’t tell you,” I shook my head no. I felt water filling up my eyes

“I thought he lost his phone because he hasn’t answered any of my text”

“I can call him,” I shook my head again. Does he have his phone?

“No, it's whatever. He wants to be like that let him,” I walked away and to the back room and started to cry. How can he do this to me? Does he want to finish things? Did he find someone else? Why didn’t he just tell me he wanted to end things. I walked to the bathroom to clean myself up.

I took deep breaths before I could walk out of the bathroom. When I got out I walked towards my pictures, “Y/N,” I turned to the side and saw a guy smiling, I would be lying if I said he wasn’t good looking, “I hope those are tears of happiness”

“I wish I could say that,” I let out a forced chuckle, god I hate myself right now

“I really liked your introduction and what the meaning behind each picture meant to you. The stories were quite interesting”

“Thank you”

“I would like to buy five of your pictures,” I was surprised

“You, would? Sorry, yeah, of course, I’ll bring the papers over, I’ll be right back,” I started to walk away but ran into a person, “sorry,” I walked to the back and grabbed the paperwork and went back out to the guy.

“I’m Ivan Goodsman, these pictures will be a good collection for my wife. She loves pictures. She loves to know what the mood was and why you took it, a picture can tell you a million words,” I gave him a nod

“I can also email you why I took it in case she actually wants to know”

“That will be perfect,” he handed me the papers back and I wrote down on top of each paper

“2B, 7B, 1C, 4C, and 5C”

“Those are actually my favorite, anyways, I’ll have them sent to the address you write down. You can do the payment either when they arrive or pay now”

“I’ll pay now”

“Cool,” the guy pulled out his checkbook and started to write down the amount. He ripped the check out of the book and handed it to me. “Thank you Mr.Goodsman,” I smiled

“Call me Ivan, I hope to see more of your work”

“Thank you for buying,” he smiled and walked away. I can’t wait to tell- no,I can be petty too. I let out a deep breath and continued walking around. By the end of the night I didn’t see Sam. I went back to my apartment, I took my shoes off and sat on the couch. I grabbed my phone and dialed Harry, as he shared the same interest.

“Hello”

“Hey Harry”

“Dude I saw that you sold some pictures that’s amazing! Who bought it?”

“A guy name Ivan Goodsman”

“Goodsman? As in the Ivan Goodsman? Holy shit they are very well known”

“He told me that his wife enjoyed looking at the pictures because they have many different meanings and stuff”

“Their kids are talented. One is in the soccer team, one is a good golf player, the other one is a popular well known photographer and the last one is a designer”

“Wow. Talented people”

“The mother, she’s also a designer, photography pictures help her get inspired. Maybe her next collection will be inspired by you. The father, he’s the manager of a hotel or something, I don’t know much of him”

“Holy crap”

“Lucky you”

“Anyways, Tom mentioned that Sam arrived a few days ago”

“Oh, yeah”

“I just need to talk to him, can I stop by?”

“He is going to hate me for this but at this moment I don’t care. Come on over,” my heart started to race, I was somewhat hoping he would’ve said no but it’s now or never. I grabbed the keys and out the door I went. 

I stood in front of the Holland's house, I rang the doorbell hearing Tessa barking. The door went wide open and I saw Nikki, she smiled widely as she stepped aside, “Harry told me that you met Ivan Goodsman, how was that?”

“He’s an attractive man”

“Common Nikki she came to see Sam, stop hogging her, that was a very beautiful collection,” Dom went next to Nikki

“Thank you, is Sam in his room?”

“Yes, go right up,” I excused myself and went upstairs to Sam’s room, I let out a sigh and knocked on the door hearing a faint ‘come in,’ I opened the door and stepped inside. Sam’s back was facing me probably on his computer.

“Hi,” he turned around, finally seeing him after three weeks

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” I looked at him confused

“What am I doing here? Seeing my boyfriend that I haven’t seen in three weeks and Tom told me you arrived two days ago. Why didn’t you tell me? Did you lose your phone?

“I needed time to think”

“Sam, what is going on. You have been avoiding me for almost two weeks, you couldn’t send me a message telling me that you arrived or that you needed time to think. You went awol on me, are you mad at me?” I tried staying calm but I was getting furious towards him.

“I just need time to think and figure things out okay, I don’t need to tell you what I’m doing every single time”

“I’m not asking you to, all I wanted you to do was to tell me that you were doing okay and that you arrived home safely”

“Well I arrived safely home”

“I know. Your brother told me and thanks for coming to my opening. Your family was there, even Tuwaine and Harrison, but you weren’t. I wanted you there, since my parents weren’t able to make it”

“Opening for what?” I scoffed

“My gallery, I texted you two weeks before my presentation and you said that you will make it for the last day, I even texted you if you were on your way, thanks for showing up”

“I needed to think okay, what part do you not understand”

“I understand, I just don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me. Just forget about it. I’m going home,” I opened the door and walked downstairs saying a quick goodbye before leaving. Does this mean that we are done? I went back home. I didn’t know what to do or think.

---

I woke up on the couch, I looked at my phone to check the time and hoping Sam would’ve texted me. The only notification I had was an email on Spotify’s newest music release. I guess this means it is over between us. I grabbed my sweater and saw the check, maybe a trip to the bank will be good for me. I got ready and off I went.

After a walk to the bank I walked to the store to buy ice cream, I grabbed my favorite ice cream and headed to the check out. When I was paying I saw the one person I wasn’t expecting to see, Sam smiling with his ex girlfriend, Erica. I grabbed my ice cream and quickly left, the way back home I felt tears streaming down my face.

I ate my ice cream in silence, the tv was off my phone was on do not disturb mode. Half way through my ice cream there was a knock on the door. I got up and opened the door, it was Sam holding flowers. He had a sad face on. “What do you want Sam”

“Can we talk,” I stepped aside. He handed me the flowers and we walked to the living room and set the flowers on the coffee table.

“Y/N, I am sorry. I know what I did was wrong. I was just stressed out and we didn’t have enough time to be on our phones. I know it’s not an excuse. I saw a picture of you and a guy together and you seemed so happy”

“What guy, I haven’t been out. I’ve been working on my pictures for a month”

“I don’t know, someone sent me a picture of you and a guy,” Sam showed me a picture

“I don’t even know who that guy is, and that dress, I haven’t worn that dress for a year. I would never cheat on you”

“I am sorry. My mom came to my room after you left. She knew something was wrong. She told me how you've been working extra hard to have your pictures up and going over on what you would be saying. This morning I stopped by the studio and saw the pictures. I am proud of you and I am so sorry”

“I saw you and Erica at the store”

“I ran into her, she asked how you were doing and I told her that you were doing great since you presented your pictures and had a well known guy buy a few pictures from you. I was smiling because I was happy that you achieved a goal that you’ve had for so long. I honestly believe she was the one that sent me that photo. Y/N, please forgive me,” I let out a sigh.

“You saw my pictures?”

“Yes, they were amazing. My mom even showed me a video she took and showed it to me”

“Okay, I forgive you, but next time you are gone for a month and don’t text me back we are done. Got it?”

“Loud and clear, can we cuddle because I really missed you,” I kissed him and got up, “are we moving this to your room?”

“I am putting my ice cream in the freezer, but let’s go take a nap in my room”

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Fourteen

Previous Chapter HERE

Warnings: Language, NSFW Language

Tags: @jennmurawski13 @kelbabyblue

Note: Apologies, this is a repost from yesterday for reasons I won’t go into now. i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Fourteen

Sarah jostled with the mail as she entered their building, trying hard not to knock over the newest fresh plant currently adorning the entrance. They usually took it in turns to handle the post and whatever parcels the Supervisor had signed for that day but she was starting to feel a little short-changed as Shanna had consistently more post coming her way these days. Sarah realised she needed to get out more. Carting everything up the stairs was starting to become its own workout. Today’s treasures involved two Nasty Gal packages, a package from Pottery Barn, a box from Amazon, and what appeared to be a free sample of a Louis Vuitton fragrance. Sarah might just keep that last one to herself.

Jocelyn had sent another care package of sorts her way but it only served to remind Sarah that she had not called her folks in over a week. Ever since the accident, Jocelyn had been so consumed with worry that she had taken to sending Sarah articles ripped form magazines and gift cards for relaxation therapies. Despite Sarah’s many protests to the contrary, Jocelyn was sure Sarah was struggling with some form of undiagnosed PTSD. She’d read about it in a magazine. “If affects upwards of half a million American every year, honey.”

After successfully dodging the neighbour’s schnauzer, she eventually reached their floor and was just about to turn her key in the lock when the door swung wide open. Before she had time to react, she was brought face to face with a stressed-out Shanna, hair dripping wet from a shower. Not her favourite Shanna it had to be said. Not even in the Top Ten.

She grabbed Sarah by both shoulders. “I don’t know what I’m going to wear, Sarah! I’ve got less than an hour!”

“And hello to you, too!” Sarah smiled broadly, almost comically so, before Shanna lowered her head in embarrassment and moved out of the way so Sarah could physically get into her own home. She held the packages up. “Maybe there is something in here?”

Shanna shook her head. “No, they’re more summery. More formal.” She’d started fluttering around Sarah in a panic. “Do you still have that leather midi skirt? Do you think I could fit into it?”

“Uhh yeh it’s in the back of my closet somewhere.” she remembered. “Might be a bit warm, though? What are you gonna wear with it?”

“Well it’s a punky kind of bar, think it has live music and stuff so I thought maybe that Rolling Stones t-shirt and the maroon boots? Keep my hair down and casual?”

“So basically all of my clothes?” Sarah retorted. Shanna pressed her hands together in prayer and gave her the best pitiful smile she could manage, one she knew Sarah couldn’t resist. Shanna seemed to genuinely like this guy and if this guy was as charming and as smart as she told her he was, Sarah was sure she would like him, too. Hell, he’d be best friends with Scott and Chris in no time so long as he enjoyed football, Sam Adams, and didn’t put points on Shanna’s licence.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll see what I can pull together. Do you wanna borrow that heart necklace of mine? If you’re wearing your hair down, it’s probably best you avoid wearing earrings unless you want me to cut you out of them again.” Sarah shouted as she walked into her room unaware that Shanna had followed her closely behind.

“Oh god I hadn’t even thought that far. You know what, I might just cancel. This is just too much right now and I’m not even sure if he really likes me as anything more than a friend.” She feigned a dramatic flop onto Sarah’s bed, one arm landing across her forehead. Sarah delved through her closet to locate the desired items. If Shanna was threatening to cancel the date already, it must be serious.

“How many of you are going to this club?” Sarah asked, emerging from the closet doorway.

“Don’t know. Think three or four from my department and another couple from his?” she responded, hopelessness evident in her voice. Shanna never did well with vagueness where guys were concerned; everything had to be black and white with her.

“Come on, you’ve still got time.” Sarah encouraged as she carried some clothes and a couple of pairs of boots towards the bed. “Dry your hair and we’ll figure this out, OK?”

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” Shanna pouted and Sarah tried to shrug off the pit growing in her stomach from her words. Shanna used every ounce of energy she could muster to get up and drag herself back into the bathroom leaving Sarah shaking her head.

It was only a rare occasion when Shanna took less time getting ready in the bathroom. Sarah had fond memories of shouting through the door back when they were at college and deciding to move in together required a complete 180 degree shift in her expectations. Still, in less than half an hour, here she emerged fully dressed, primer and foundation applied, and hair dried accordingly. It was a miracle of epic proportions and if she hadn’t shoved some false eyelashes into Sarah’s hand, Sarah would have snapped a photograph to send to the family as evidence that their little girl was growing up.

Thanks to her professional, steady hand, Sarah was always the eyelash-fixer among their group. While fixing a couple of lashes to the corners of her eyes, Sarah’s phone buzzed. It buzzed a couple more times in quick succession and she would have managed to ignore it had it not been for Shanna’a roving eye.

“Looks like someone wants you.” she murmured, trying her hardest not to move as Sarah held the glued lash in place with some tweezers.

“It’ll just be Audrey probably.” Sarah responded in no rush to check for herself, keeping a firm hold on what she was doing.

Shanna tried glancing to her side one more time to catch who it was but couldn’t quite make it out. It buzzed again. “I’d hate for you to miss out on a date with Greg on account of helping piece my pathetic love life together. Oooh maybe we could double-date!”

Shanna’s exclaim nearly caused Sarah to lose her grip on the tweezers but a sharp intake of breath convinced Shanna to give up the inquisition. “Sorry. Sorry.” she held her hands up as an apology before feeling Sarah’s hands relax as she moved across to the other eye.

Sarah was pleased to see Shanna eventually leave their apartment. Not because she wanted the peace particularly but just because it was nice to see her get excited over a guy that wasn’t Ben. She looked gorgeous, too. Sarah was quite proud of her work. If it wasn’t to be a proper date, it definitely would be after tonight. Robbie would be an absolute fool to miss out.

It was only when she slumped dow onto the couch and spent the next hour or so flicking through television channels that she remembered her phone had buzzed earlier on. She reluctantly peeled herself off the sofa and retrieved it from where it had originally landed on her bedside table. Honestly, it was like Shanna had taught her nothing.

From just two messages, Chris had attempted some mild flirtation with her before asking her if she knew what in God’s Name Penhaligon’s was.

Sarah 8.19pm: Perfume I think. Pretty old school brand. Why?

Chris 8.23pm: Mom wants it for her birthday. Never heard of it before. Scott thought it might be some kind of scarf??

She googled the name to make sure. Last thing she wanted was to end up ruining Lisa’s birthday celebrations with a present she absolutely did not want. Her birthday was something she took with increasing seriousness as each year passed by and her children and grandchildren grew older in front of her eyes. There was always a party of sorts, a massive cake, perhaps a theme, and a “suggestion list” for possible gifts. Well, they say “suggestion” but rarely did anyone dare deviate from “the list”. Sarah hadn’t yet considered buying a present but if Chris was already looking, she would no doubt need to catch up.

Sarah 8.34pm: Yep, pretty certain it’s a perfume. Pretty pricey. Good shout.

Sarah started scanning through her phone as another couple of messages caught her eye, some she had accidentally missed from earlier in the day. One from Audrey. One from Greg that she was not expecting.

Greg 7.02pm: Great news! 29th is set up. All you need to do is say the word! Don’t know how long I can hold the spot open so let me know as soon as you can. Have a great evening x

It took her a moment to register what he was talking about.

Chris 8.37pm: Cool THX What are you wearing??

Sarah stared down at the phone. She felt light-headed. There was far too much going on for this time of the day. She wiped at her forehead with her sweater sleeve and took a deep breath.

Sarah 8.41pm: You wouldn’t be interested lol

Chris 8.42pm: try me..........

He had a surprising habit these days of cheering her up.

Sarah 8.46pm: Nah I look a mess. Get out while you can.

Her phone started ringing almost as soon as she’d pressed ‘send’, Chris’ name flashing on her screen. She contemplated not answering now that her mood had taken a turn but she knew he would work out something was wrong and immediately dive over.

“Hey,” she answered, trying for a jovial tone but coming up just south of delirious.

“Hey you,” he smiled through the phone, happy to hear her voice. “In all the years I have known you, Bernette, not once would I describe you as looking like a mess.”

She laughed down the line. She made the right decision.

“...you are far too cute to ever be a mess. Do you know that? Like, I can already picture you with your sweats on, your hair tied up, soft skin...” he trailed off with a low sigh that she was sure was filthier than he intended it to be. “Man, that really does something to me.”

“You really know how to charm a girl. Have you figured this Penhaligon’s thing out yet? Was I right?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

She laughed again. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m not great with flirting over the phone. You should know that by now.”

“Then do it with me in person.” he proposed as if it was the easiest solution in the world. As if she wasn’t going to be distracted with thoughts of work and studies enough to not focus on him entirely. And he didn’t deserve to be second best.

It would have been all too easy to allow him to come over. Forget about overthinking things again. There truly was no one better at making her feel good about herself these days. Like, honest, through-the-bone good about herself, whatever that entailed. Goosebumps raised on her skin at the thought.

“I’m pretty whacked to be honest and...”

“What’s going on? Are you feeling alright?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. Whatever he had been pottering about with in the background had stopped all of a sudden.

“Yes! Yeh, I’m fine. Just...I dunno, boring. Plus, it’s Friday night! You should be out with the guys or whatever. Shan said Scott is having issues with Zach again. Is he OK?”

He laughed at her second lame attempt to deflect. He knew something was going on and he knew she knew he wouldn’t give up easily.

“Is Shanna there?” he asked.

“No, she went out with some friends.”

“So why don’t you ask me to come over and I’ll make you feel better than fine?”

She was lucky she was sat down or that her legs were crossed underneath her as she lounged on the couch, her back against the arm rest. His tone was causing her to feel things she shouldn’t be focussing on. What must it feel like to always be confident of your effect on people?

“Do you wanna come over?” she asked, treading lightly, not entirely anxious should he decline.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He ended the call almost as abruptly as he had dialled it.

She remained where she sat for a moment, Greg’s text message still lighting up her screen. She wasn’t expecting for things to suddenly be so easy for her and it was strange how opening herself up to more possibilities could cause her to feel so immobile.

She would need to move at some point and as a helpless and as confused as she now felt, she knew it would look far too obvious to Chris if she bid to make herself up. She also didn’t really have the energy to do so. Lord, Chris really should have taken the out when he had the chance.

“Have I just walked into a teenage girl’s bedroom?” Chris asked, taking a look around as he entered the apartment not long afterwards. He clearly found the scene amusing although Sarah couldn’t under stand why. It was partly Shanna’s home after all. He should be used to girly mess. “What’s going on?”

“Shan has a date. I was helping her to get ready.” Sarah replied, humourously holding up the hairdryer like a trophy before dumping it back in her bedroom. “Sort of, actually. She doesn’t quite know if it’s a date date or a friend date.”

“I was told those didn’t exist.” Chris smirked, reaching for a bottle of water from her fridge.

“Well, she’s dressed up for one. Looks gorgeous.”

“I think you look gorgeous.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Chris, you don’t need to make any more effort, OK? You’re already in the apartment.”

“I think it bears repeating is all.”

He swallowed half the bottle of water before fixing her with a semi-quizzical stare. He tried to figure out what was going on as he watched her potter around the kitchen table, swiping something away into a cupboard, phone grasped in her hand. “What’s going on? You sounded weird on the phone and now you look like it as well.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” she answered far too quickly and tried to shrug it off but his body language told her he wasn’t buying it. She wasn’t sure what was bothering her more in this moment; him knowing her too well, or that he knew he knew her too well.

“OK, alright, well, it’s Friday night and I’m happy just hanging out and doing whatever but you can also talk to me as well. I’m not a monster.”

“It was her turn to look back at him, unsure of her next move or indeed his. she wondered if he was very likely regretting his decision to meet her now when twenty minutes in the opposite direction would take him to one of his favourite downtown dive bars. Instead, he rested against the side of the kitchen doorway, arms folded, a softness still present in his facial expressions. He seemed hesitant of what to say and she didn’t like the slight awkward air surrounding them. She didn’t want to venture into work-territory either.

“Do you want me to go, Sarah?”

She looked back up at him after a short spell spent staring down at her feet. “No. I don’t want you to leave. I’m just...there’s something...” she paused to re-evaluate her words. “You know what, it’s find. It’s nothing major. Of course I’m glad you’re here now.”

He pushed himself off from the counter and moved towards her, accepting of the greeting smile now covering her face, the bottle of water still in his grip. “Cool. Shall I follow your lead then, or...?”

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” she suggested, more casually than he would have liked. She didn’t know what to say to him now that all of her brain space was taken up with possibilities and wanting to call Audrey with the news. Chris hadn’t factored in watching a film but she seemed like she wanted a little peace and quiet and he had pretty much dived into the apartment as soon as she gave him the green light, eager as he was to see her without threat of Shanna walking in at any point.

“Movie sounds good.” He bobbed his head in agreement, content in their surroundings for now.

*

At some point towards the end of Searching, Chris quietly excused himself to go to the bathroom. Realising something was about to happen and not wanting to have to explain it to him after he returned, Sarah put the film on pause and headed into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She had held him at an arm’s length for most of the night, the couch seeming longer somehow, but was now feeling a slight chill despite the thick sweater reaching midway down her thighs. He would no doubt have been cosy to snuggle up to but she was still pondering Greg’s message and couldn’t concentrate on much else.

Her demeanour hadn’t gone unnoticed by Chris. A couple of times he caught the glare from her phone screen illuminating her face from below and wondered who had gotten her attention this evening. He stopped himself from making an obvious joke and was disappointed that she hadn’t noticed him glance across at her several times during the movie. He wasn’t much interested in watching it. Telling the truth, he’d seen it via a DVD screener Matt had sent him months earlier but she’d mentioned she was looking forward to watching it and in all honesty, he had figured they would curl up together and he would have still gotten something out of it.

“Chris? Do you want a cup of tea?” she hollered from the kitchen doorway. No response for what seemed to be a long, long minute. She switched the kettle off and began pouring him one anyway. She could always drink two if he didn’t want it.

“Chris?” she shouted again.

She walked into the lounge to place the cups down and clocked the bathroom door ajar and seemingly empty. Maybe he left without telling her. In all fairness, she wouldn’t have been surprised or annoyed. She’d barely given him a moment of attention for the last two hours.

She wandered slowly down the hallway first passing Shanna’s bedroom before reaching her own and finding him stretched out across the bottom of her bed. She giggled and leaned on the side of the doorway. He looked rather comfortable. A little too comfortable. Maybe he wanted some company?

“What are you up to, Evans?”

He tilted his head up to find her standing there. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice I was gone.” He leaned up further and rested on one arm to fully take sight of her. His eyes appeared a little dopey, a thing that always seemed to give away his nefarious intentions. From the angle he was now lying in, the size of his bicep looked ridiculous. It could not have been an accidental move and she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t working for her.

“Are you bored? You can absolutely go if you have a better offer, I promise I won’t mind.” she offered by way of an apology but he stayed looking at her, not moving or responding to her offer. Being caught under his glare like this was unnerving to say the least. His hair looked a little messy from where he had been lying down yet he still made zero effort to move at all.

“I’m not bored.” He finally spoke, sincerity lacing his voice. “Are you? You seem distracted tonight.”

She didn’t know how to respond except to say he was right and to apologise again. She hadn’t figured out what to say to Greg yet so explaining her thought process to Chris wasn’t going to get her very far. It was times like this, when he was looking at her like that, that she wished she had the confidence to try and shut him up the old-fashioned way.

“Come here...” It was barely a whisper and she would have doubted he had spoken at all if it wasn’t for the hand he was now holding out towards her. He didn’t blink once.

She couldn’t refuse him and moved slowly to stand in the middle of his now-parted legs hanging off the end of the bed as he sat up. She watched as he closed his eyes when he felt her fingers smooth through his hair. There was something so calming about her touch, the deliberate graze of her nails sending little shocks down his spine. He wasn’t normally fussed by a woman playing with his hair even if occasionally he liked it when they pulled on it but something about her slow, tender touch was unlike anything he had felt before.

He moved his hands to the side of her thighs before pulling her legs down to either side of him. “I love looking at you from here.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist making sure she couldn’t get away from him.

She moved in to kiss him, softly at first before she felt his tongue glide along her bottom lip, a wordless request for her to open up. He paused for a second, taking her in while she caught her breath before kissing her deeper than before. She pulled his t-shirt up from the hem and he reached up over his back to grab it and whip it off in record time. Not one of his proudest moments, it caught on his watch as he tried and failed to fling it to the side of them and he made a mental note to try that move again when he felt her chuckle against the side of his neck. He didn’t much mind being a dork in front of her. She knew he wasn’t as cool as he made himself out to be.

His hands found their way into her hair as he caressed the strands out of her face. He loved how silky it felt between his fingers and how faintly it smelled of coconut, her signature smell by now. Her hands gripped his wrists before slowly moving up his biceps and grasping at his shoulders while he pulled her down onto him to allow her to feel how hard he was becoming from her touch. He wanted to know she was only thinking about him. She felt him push up into her core and arousing her even more. His breaths were getting shorter while his hands moved down her sides in an attempt to hook into her leggings and drag them down and off her body. She moved a hand away from his shoulders to help him with his mission but a tapping sound soon broke her from her reverie.

“Wait.” she was still holding on to his arms to steady herself until things went quiet and his hands froze on her waist. Their breathing levelled out quickly and Chris threw her a confused look. “Do you hear something?”

“What?” He gasped. “No, nothing.” He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back down to kiss him hard. His hands firmly gripped her ass until she was putting pressure back where he wanted it. She quickly forgot what she was thinking about while he moved her slowly along his growing length. He moved one hand up her side, dragging her sweater up with it so his fingers could finally feel her skin underneath. Her hands were pushing down on his chest a bit harder and in a moment that took her by total surprised he quickly flipped them over so she was lying underneath him, completely encased by his strong forearms.

Kissing her was so easy he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done it sooner. Her lips were soft, some of the softest her had ever touched. He figured she kissed like she wanted to be kissed, and he wanted to kiss her back like no boy had ever kissed her before. It was soft and hot and breathy and turning him on immensely. Neither was trying to win a battle but rather seeking and enjoying their closeness, the sharing of this one single sensation, outside world be damned.

The prospect of being uninterrupted was giving him all kinds of ideas. Her breathing was hot against his skin and he knew she was in the zone with him. They’d never particularly been slow and up until this point, he hadn’t much minded but he knew there was some part of her she was holding back and honestly, it was thrilling to him that he was determined to figure her out.

Pinning her underneath, one hand reached down and grazed the inside of her thigh. A little more pressure just over her clit caused her breath to hitch with a sudden squeak ever so slightly until they smiled back into their kiss, tongues massaging together. Honestly, he could carry on doing this for hours if he knew for sure there would definitely be another time they had this opportunity.

She opened her eyes to find him resting so close above her and evidently relishing the way she was lightly tickling the back of his neck with her fingers. Another languid kiss followed before he caught the side of her neck between his teeth and pushed himself against her core, her wetness increasingly apparent to him. She was growing accustomed to his need to tease her like this that she almost missed the scraping sound that had returned, only this time it was louder and sounded like it was coming from just down her hallway. She would have loved nothing more than to continue focussing on the hot breath now ghosting across her neck and shoulders but, panicking, she grudgingly pushed him off her.

“Fuck, what is that?”

Helpless and slightly dazed, all he could do was watch her get up from the bed to stand by the door. With an ear close to the gap, she listened out for another sound. Quieter than before, she swore she heard what sounded like shuffling followed by something being dropped on the ground.

Spying him about to protest, she shook her head. “Nope. Nope, that’s definitely something.” She proceeded to tiptoe out of her room and down the hall towards the kitchen, her bare feet treading ever so lightly and managing to dodge the one creaky floorboard. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find but felt a brief surge of confidence knowing the vision of Captain America might alarm whoever was attempting to break in to her home and presumably try to murder them both. He was 6 foot and built like a tank, he could absolutely save them both if push came to shove.

Of course, no one was there that she could immediately see. Maybe something had fallen off the wall instead, or perhaps had been knocked over by a strong breeze coming in via the open window in the lounge? Maybe she was hearing things after all or maybe it was a burglar but they got startled and ran away when they heard footsteps inside. Maybe it was just their neighbour moving around next door but it sounded a little too close for that. She resorted to the only thing she could think of in that moment and picked up a spatula just in case.

Chris was reluctantly putting his t-shirt back on when he followed quietly behind her, shaking his leg to relieve some of the tension in his boxers. Something banged again but this time she was sure it was coming from outside of her front door. He could now hear it as well but wasn’t entirely sure what she was hoping to accomplish with a plastic spatula in her hand.

She held her finger up to her lips to stop him from making any noise and peered through the peephole. She couldn’t see anything. Gingerly, she decided to open the door and jumped backwards when there, on the ground hunched up and leaning against the door frame, was a rathe intoxicated Shanna. Her bag had been emptied in a hurry like she’d been trying to locate her keys, and her coat was falling off her shoulders. She was half-asleep.

Chris snorted from somewhere close behind Sarah unable to contain himself, instantly familiar with the view in front of him. Sarah exhaled with some kind of relief that they were safe from a mass-murderer.

“I don’t believe it...” she spoken quietly.

“I do!” Chris could barely stop the laughter coming out now.

She and Chris moved to help her into the apartment, each grabbing her under one arm. Chris bared the majority of her weight while Sarah carried her bag and as a many contents as she could find. They managed to manoeuvre her into her bedroom where she promptly fell forward, head first, onto her bed,

“Fuckin’ waster,” he laughed heartily before Sarah punched his arm to stop him  from waking her. the room fell silent for a moment before the unmistakeable sound of Shan snoring took over. Chris closed the door behind them before following Sarah to the kitchen where she collected the remaining items that had fallen out of her bag. Picking up her phone, she checked for scratches.

“Well at least she didn’t lose it this time,” she held up the mobile to him but noticed he couldn’t stop grinning. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” he shook his head. “I just wish I’d taken a picture of her. Scott would have a heart attack. Always told her she couldn’t handle her drink!”

“i don’t know how you’d explain getting hold of a photo of her.”

“Oh yeh, good point.” he chuckled in reponse. They regarded each other for a moment, Chris clearly hopeful they could pick up from where they left off.

“I think you should go,” Sarah thought apologetically.

He paused before answering, expecting her to have been joking. “Why? She’s passed out on her bed. She’ll be asleep for hours. Do you have any idea how many times I have seen her like this?”

“Have you any idea how many times I have seen her like this? She’ll wake up in the middle of the night and get into bed with me and it’d be a lot easier to handle if I didn’t have to explain to her why her bother was also there.”

“Sarah, we could throw a rave and she wouldn’t wake up.”

He was making no effort to move, instead fixing her with a stare waiting for her to recognise how ridiculous she sounded. His hands pinched at his hips and he looked a foot taller than before

“Seriously, Chris, you’re just going to have to leave.”

He took a couple of steps towards her, bare feet padding along the hard, cold floor. “I haven’t see you all week.” He moaned, hands reaching out for her hoping the memory of where they had been would be enough to convince her he should stay.

“That’s not true. You saw me the other day.” It was a weak response. Even she knew that.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

She offered back nothing. She had no response. He was disappointed and equally as frustrated with his lack of a decent comeback. He should definitely stay. He should be rocking her world right this moment and whispering filthy things into her ear but instead, all he could do was stand there and shake his head in defeat. When he made eye contact with her again, she looked somehow smaller in some way and he found it hard to continue being frustrated with her. He understood what she was doing as much as he didn’t want to.

Resigned, he shuffled towards her and embraced her in a hug. She felt him semi-hard against her tummy, briefly doubting her choices. It stirred something exciting inside her to think she could make him feel that way and mentally chastised Shanna for cock-blocking her. She felt bad for kicking him out like this.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” she whispered.

He loosely pulled away from their hug and looked down at her. He playfully raised an eyebrow and looked down at her lips, still pink and swollen, before chastely planting a kiss on them.

“I am absolutely going to hold you to that.”

*

Shan finally made an appearance the following morning looking like death warmed up. She’d somehow managed to remove her clothes but had a pyjama top on backwards and her hair was sticking out in all directions. She had Sarah’s expert eyeliner and a false lash smudged down one cheek.

Sarah was eating breakfast and checking the news on her phone when she saw the creature from the black lagoon emerge into her kitchen. Stifling a laugh at the sorry sight standing before her, she felt a pang of sympathy seeing every step cause her pain. Shan just pouted at her before taking a seat at the kitchen table, resting her forehead in her hands while Sarah fixed her a glass of juice and some aspirin. She took it gratefully before groaning.

“Remind me never to do shots again.” she stressed. Sarah knew it wouldn’t last, not with that Boston blood coursing through her veins. “Was Chris here last night?”

Sarah froze, a sudden ring clouding her ears. “Erm, no, he wasn’t.” She turned to put her bowl in the sink and tried to hide any blushes. She didn’t know who felt more like shit in this exact moment.

“Oh I could have sworn I heard him is all.” Shan said, more to herself than to anyone else. “God, it’s good he wasn’t. He’d have a ball game seeing me in that state. How awful was I?”

“Not very,” Sarah lied again.

“How did I even get home?” she asked, trying to piece together the flashes of memories that kept racing through her mind.

“Um, I think your friends dropped you off in a taxi and you somehow managed to get up the stairs but then I guess you couldn’t find your keys...?” Shan managed a puzzled look. “You were slumped against the front door.” She refilled her glass with juice. “You’ve been in bed for, like, twelve hours.”

“Shit, we must have started early.”

“Well it happens to the best of us.” Sarah sat next to her and pushed a loose piece of hair out of her sweaty, red face. “Your hair looks OK! I don’t think there is anything stuck in it this time.”

Shanna laughed for the first time before her head panged in revenge.

“So? Did anything happen with Robbie?” Sarah asked, a cheeky grin crossing her face. By the look on Shanna’s face, the answer was a resounding “no” but it could very well have been the alcohol-induced hurricane currently running though her head.

“Well, it was a great night regardless. You’d love the bar. I think we ran into that guy, the porter from your hospital? Pat something? Did you know he plated in a band?”

“Um, no, not at all. Wow.” Sarah was trying to picture Patrick with an array of different instruments to see which suited him before remembering the awkward time he attempted to drum Phil Collins’ ‘In The Air Tonight’ with two scalpels. “Actually, he does seem the type. I’ll have to let Audrey know. She’ll love this.”

“He sounded pretty decent. It’s not just punk music or heavy rock. I think we should all go one night. Maybe as part of Mom’s birthday week.” Shanna perked up a little, proud of the idea that had materialised in her head against all odds. “It’s amazing what people can do when they put some effort in. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Where you might be now if you just took a chance.”

Following a night of heavy drinking, Sarah wasn’t expecting such an existential conversation at this point in the day. But it was a good point regardless. She grabbed her phone from the table and typed out a message to Greg.

“Yes. I’m in.”

*

[purplesurveys]

1195

survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct

—:: Who ::—

... was the last person you saw face to face? I passed by my brother last night when I had to go to the kitchen to fill up my tumbler.

... was the last person you texted or messaged online? Angela; I was just asking her for the difference among A4/A5/A6 since I’m now planning to buy a binder and sleeves for my rapidly increasing collection of photocards and postcards. It really frustrates me that A4 is the biggest one and A6 the smallest :((((

... was the last person who asked you for a favour? Kata, my manager. She filed a half-day leave last Friday to get herself and her family vaccinated in her town, so she had sent me over a very long to-do list of deliverables that she asked me to fulfill while she was out. Eventually she ended up filing a whole-day leave since she felt feverish after being under the sun all day, and also possibly from side effects of the vaccine, so I ended up carrying the entire workload for the day. I like Kata and she’s a very easy person and superior to work with, so I honestly couldn’t complain about it.

... was the last person you lent something to? Ooh, I don’t remember. I don’t really lend people things.

... was the last person who told you a secret/confided in you? Andi was just sharing to me their worries about taking the LAE (scheduled for today) and how they’ll be okay if they don’t pass.

... is the tallest person you know? Jo is like 5′7″ and we all look like beans when standing next to her. One of my uncles is also very tall; around 5′10″ or 5′11″ if I’m not mistaken.

... the shortest person you know? I think Aya? That’s just a smart guess, though; I haven’t seen most of my friends in more than a year.

... your oldest (in years) friend? Mik is turning 28 this year. Sometimes I forget just how much older he is than me since we vibe really well together during the rare times we did get to hang out. I’m still bummed we never got that smoke break we wanted to have.

... is the oldest (in length of time) friend? Angela.

... is your youngest friend? Hannah was born in 2000. Peter was born in 2001 but we aren’t that close yet.

... is your newest friend? I haven’t made any new friends recently. Stan Twitter is lonelier than I thought it would be; everyone is already friends with everyone so it’s hard to break that space. Not to mention everyone is also grossly younger than I am – I keep seeing profiles with ‘2004′ on their bio :/ I should start making an effort to look for older ARMYs lol, I definitely feel like I’d have more fun that way.

... is your closest relative? My eldest cousin on my mom’s side, my Kuya.

... was your favourite teacher? My music teacher from high school. I neeeeeever liked music as a subject and it was never a priority of mine, but she always kept our classes something for me to look forward with her advice and the way she was always able to make lessons interesting.

... was your least favourite teacher? Those who made it clear they didn’t like me, even though I didn’t do anything to deserve such hostility.

... did you spend the most time with when growing up? My siblings and cousins since we all lived together at one point.

... knows you the best? My two best friends.

... always beats you in games or sports? Andi would probably be able to beat me in any game. They just let me win because they know I can be a sore loser.

... who is the most creative of the people you know? My family is pretty artistic and I have a lot of talented relatives - my sister and my cousin Maggie paint and draw; my mom can make any kind of craft she wants, with her hnds; and one of my grand-aunts regularly does paintings. I think all of them are amazingly creative in their own way.

... is the funniest person you know? Probably Andi. Hans makes me crack up too.

... is the most organised that you know? My mom.

... that you know has travelled the most? My dad. Both our fridge doors are filled from top to bottom with magnets from places he’s travelled in due to his line of work. He’s toned down quite a bit in the last few years and has taken to staying within Asia, but back then his traveling history was super expansive – Germany, Jamaica, Italy, Belize, Aruba, Italy, France, Monaco, Denmark, Norway, the UK, US, Estonia, Portugal, etc.

... has always been there for you? Angela never left my side.

... has given you the most personal gift? I can’t possibly pick, my friends are pretty good at giving me gifts...like Andi getting me a Petals For Armor CD and a Punk shirt that hasn’t been produced in a while, and Angela giving me a personalized Friends mug because she knows I like my coffee and she knows I like Friends.

... has an annoying laugh? I don’t think anyone I know has an annoying laugh.

... never forgets a birthday? That would be me.

... do you live with? My parents, my two siblings, and our two dogs.

...,do you have the most in common with? I’m not so sure about this one, actually. I share bits of my personality with a lot of people - like me and Jo liking BTS, me and Andi liking wrestling, Blanch and I having similar personalities, me and Laurice being super meticulous when it comes to our work, etc. - but I haven’t met anyone who’s virtually a duplicate of mine when it comes to my traits and interests.

...is the sportiest person you know? I’m also not sure. Most people I know are into watching a bunch of sports, but none of them actually play.

...was your last missed call? It was an unknown number that I kept ignoring because THEY WOULDN’T TEXT WHO THEY WERE. If you have enough load credits to call me multiple times, then surely you can text me and introduce yourself first, and maybe then I can pick up the phone.

...did you last open your door for? My sister knocked last Friday because someone wanted to talk to me via landline. It was weird since no one calls via the phone anymore, but I have a gut feeling it was that ^ same person who had been trying to call me through my phone but never texted me. Eventually I learned it was one of the bloggers I’m talking to for work who just wanted to ask a few questions about our ongoing engagement.

... has your heart? Kim Taehyung. Expect the same answer for this type of question moving forward.

... has your respect? I gotta hand it to Tina for consistently doing well in her studies and excelling in every subject while doing photo and video editing for two orgs, working on her thesis, and being a board member in our mutual org, all while living alone. She does so well I wish I can tell her to give herself the occasional break to avoid burnout.

...do you share a special song with? I don’t think I have that with anyone.

...do you miss right now? Literally allllllll my friends.

...last made you angry? It’s been a while since I’ve directed my anger towards another person. When I get pissed off these days it’s usually over a situation that goes awry or out of my control.

...did you last buy a gift for? So this was not technically meant to be a gift, but what happened was I accidentally secured two orders of the same poster set, which was a part of this new BTS photobook coming out later this month, from two different shops. One of the shops merely posted an ‘interest check’ for the poster set so I signed up for it thinking it was harmless, but when they got back to me they already attached an invoice :/ I ended up having to pay for it just so things won’t get complicated between myself and the shop anymore; and I told Angela she can just keep the extra set I bought and that she can consider it a gift.

...did you celebrate your last birthday with? My family and technically my workmates since I didn’t file a leave that day. I also had food delivered to their house so I guess that can count as my ‘celebration’ with them.

...have you gone to a concert with? I went with Angela for my first Paramore show.

...can make you laugh? Anyone can tbh. It’s not very hard to make me laugh.

...has taught you how to do something? Nina taught me how to embroider and do basic needle/thread skills back when I was still getting into the hobby.

...has lost something of yours? I am almost certain my ex never kept the handwritten letters I used to write her. She never seemed to remember or bring up the things I wrote.

...has broke your heart? Gabie but I’m over it.

...has stood you up? Hasn’t happened to me before.

:: What ::

Is your favourite colour? Pastel pink.

Can you do that most your friends can’t? Type fast, apparently.

Is your birthday? April 21.

Colour eyes do you have? Dark brown/black.

Form of transport do you take to work/school? I work from home. But under normal circumstances I would drive my car.

Music do you like to listen to in the car? I connect my Spotify to the car’s Bluetooth and listen to whatever artist or playlist I’m into at the moment. The music I put on could also depend on my current mood for the day.

Languages can you speak? Filipino and English. I’ve also been able to pick up looooots of Korean phrases and expressions because of the amount of content I watch. I’m nowhere near fluent, of course, but I’m increasingly able to pick up what people say based off a few Korean words I’ll hear in a sentence.

Was the last thing you drank? Continued from idk. I finished off my glass of water from dinner.

Was the last thing you ate? My mom made pasta.

Time did you wake up this morning? Depends on how late I slept the night before and how tired I was, but it usually ranges between 5:45–7:30 AM.

Colour are your bedroom walls? They’re white.

Drink do you usually order when eating out? I never order drinks unless I’m at La Creperie, in which case I always get their San Gines hot chocolate; for everywhere else that isn’t a bar, I just get water.

Food can you cook well? ...I can’t cook.

Animals have you had for a pet? Dogs, rabbit, lovebirds, goldfish, and technically a cat but she was mostly Nina’s.

Are your initials? RC.

Kind of activities do you like to do on the weekends? I’m still kind of stuck at home during the weekends :/ so I can’t do much, but I’m not complaining since I actually prefer staying in these days. Anyway, most recently I’ve taken to catching up on BTS content I’ve missed over the last 8 years, so I like watching shows they’ve done like Bon Voyage, Run BTS, etc.

Movie do you know line by line? Two for the Road, TITANIC, and probably most of White Chicks.

Band(s) have you seen in concert? Paramore, One Direction, a bunch of local bands.

Do you buy/get to treat yourself? It’s usually food - I like giving myself a feast every Friday night - but I’m putting that in the backseat for now as I’ve realigned my money to be spent on BTS merch. My big purchases are saved for the albums for now, but every now and then I’ll see a postcard or photocard I like and buy them. Once I complete the albums I’ll be moving on to the concert DVDs, then the special packages, then probably BT21 plushies. Needless to say I have a longggggg way to go haha.

Colours your phone cover? I have a clear case.

Part of the world would you love to visit? Another continent would be nice.

Question do you dislike being asked? Even though I know people mean well, I don’t like being asked “How are you?” but tbh it’s more of a me thing because I just never really know what to say.

Subject were you good at in school? History.

Careers do your parents have? They both work in the hospitality industry.

Brand of clothing do you buy most often? For clothes clothes I’m not really loyal to a particular brand; I buy from different brands and shops all the time. But for shoes, I like sticking to Nikes.

Chocolate bar is your favourite? Not a big fan of chocolate bars. I love Reese’s Cups, though.

TV show have you watched every series of? Friends, Perfect Strangers, Breaking Bad.

Radio station do you listen to the most? It’s a little hard to tell at this point considering I haven’t driven regularly in over a year. But back when I used to do it, I usually flipped among 93.1, 99.5, and 87.5.

Podcasts are you subscribed to? I’m not the biggest fan of podcasts. Find them a tad bit boring.

Is your favourite dessert? Macarons or cheesecake.

Can’t you do that most around you seem to? Ride a bike.

Are 5 qualities you value in a friend? Loyalty, thoughtfulness, honest, sensitive to my needs and those of others, and intelligent.

Are 5 qualities you value in a partner? ^ Pretty much the same thing.

Size pizza do you usually order? Family size usually.

Cuisine do you like to order or cook? I’ve been getting Japanese so many times recently. I rarely go outside sushi.

Colour(s) dominate your wardrobe? Black and white, and colors that were in at one point like mustard yellow and pastel pink.

Toothpaste brand do you use? Colgate.

Sounds can you hear right now? My insanely loud aircon.

Is the weather like today? Like hell. I believe we’re reaching a heat index of over 50ºC every day now, so...that’s fun. It gets absolutely difficult to work in the afternoon when the temperature is at its most brutal, and its times like this I wish I got to work in the office so that there’s aircon and I could at least work comfortably :/

Are your plans for tomorrow? Just work and have tons of meetings, the usual.

:: Where ::

Do you keep your phone when not using it? I keep my phone near me even when I’m not using it since I could always get an important notification.

Were you born? Manila.

Do you go to unwind? Most days it would be the rooftop, but under normal circumstances I like staying at a coffee shop somewhere to escape life and my responsibilities for a short while.

Is your best friend right now? I believe they’re both at home since they have no reason to be out anyway.

Can you go nearby to have a good time? Personally, I would just go to the Starbucks near our village lol. If I’m feeling a bit more adventurous I’d head to Katip, which is prrrretty close by but not quite.

Is the nearest restaurant? We have a McDonald’s literally right beside the village. Then besides that is a Shakey’s, and right across that is a Burger King, then the aforementioned neaby Starbucks. Just makes me realize how urbanized my town has gotten in the last few years.

Is the nearest beach? If I had to guess, the nearest beaches would be in Batangas which is 2-3 hours away, but it really depends on how fast you can drive lol. I’m not too good with long car rides so in both times I’ve driven there I had always taken 4 hours.

Did you meet your closest friend? I met Angela in grade school, and I met Andi at a local rally in my university.

Did you go for your last vacation? Tagaytay, though it was a staycation more than anything else.

Is the nearest mall or superstore? It’s like a 3-minute drive away from the village.

Did you last get an injury? I have loadsssssss of new scratches and gashes all around my wrists from playing with Cooper.

Is the most extravagant place you’ve stayed at? It’s a toss-up between Aids’ or Gian’s house. Gian would probably win since I never actually got to go inside Aids’ place, and his was the first house I’ve been to that was able to literally take my breath away. OH and Shaun’s house was pretty fucking swanky as well.

Do most the local kids play? I would have no idea since I’m neither a kid nor a parent.

Have you been with your family? This is a very vague question lol...what do you mean where have we been? We’ve been to different towns around the country and several countries together, if that’s what you’ve been asking.

Did you spend Christmas last year? We visited a couple of relatives, and we also spent it at home.

Did your parents grow up? My mom grew up within Metro Manila; my dad in a city a little outside of it.

Did you buy the shoes you’re wearing? I’m barefoot at the moment and always am at home.

Would you like to go right now if you could? If life had still been normal I would probably be having after-work drinks at a bar near the office.

Do you miss the most from your childhood? I’m not sure how to answer this with where.

Is the best restaurant you know? I’m still searching for it.

Will you never go again as it was so bad? It’s not that it was bad, but I’d probably never dine at 8Cuts again because their burgers are not worth the hype and are very overpriced for their size.

:: When ::

...was your last vacation? My family’s last legit vacation was in August 2019; but we did have a quick escape to Tagaytay in January of this year.

...did you graduate? I officially ‘graduated’ from college in August, if you could even call it that.

...did you decide what career you wanted? Somewhere between my 2nd and 3rd year of college. That was when I decided I hated journalism and preferred PR, but since PR is under journalism’s umbrella there was no need for me to shift courses.

...did you have your first kiss? Continued. Like WHEN when or how old was I when? In any case, it was in January 2015 and I ws 16.

...did you learn how to swim? Idk, pretty early on. My parents liked taking us to water parks when we were younger, so we had a lot of exposure. I’m not sure if there was ever a time where something just clicked and I learned how to swim; I believe it had just come naturally.

...did you have your first relationship? By the end of 2014.

...did you meet your best friend? I met both of them in school, but at different points.

...do you feel the most at peace? Probably when I’m able to stay at the rooftop all alone.

...do you usually fall asleep? I’ve readjusted my body clock now (I used to want to be in bed by 9 or 10 PM, lmao) and I stay up until anywhere between 12-2 AM on weekdays.

...do you usually wake up? Ranges between 6-7:30 AM.

...did you last watch a movie? September.

...did you last go to a party? Around Februaryish, 2020.

...did you last cry? I can’t really recall. The last moment I can remember was crying over Life Goes On sometime last month, when I heard it for the first time. I’m just not sure if that’s accurate or when exactly in April that happened.

...did you laugh really hard? I always have a good laugh at least once a day.

...did you buy something pricey last? Idk what you would count as pricey but I bought the new BTS photobook set when it dropped back in April. Cost me around ₱3750. I wasn’t able to buy from the first press (it sold out in like 7 minutes lol) which included an exclusive poster set, so I had to look for a local shop that was already offering the poster set separately, and ended up shelling out another ₱2200 for it...which means all in all I spent around ₱5950 for it or roughly $125.

...did you have an argument last? Earlier this evening but I don’t want to get into it as it made me cry from sadness and frustration for the first time in months.

...did you last have a sick day? May last year.

...did you last recieve a hug? I have no idea. February, I think? when I hung out with my friends.

...when is your best friend’s birthday? July 22 or September 15, depends on which best friend.

...did you learn how to drive? I started getting lessons when I was 17, but I didn’t start feeling comfortable with it until I turned 18.

...did you last receive a surprise? Around a couple of weeks ago when my dad came home with Jollibee for us.

:: How ::

Many pets do you have? Two.

Many houses have you lived in? Three that I can remember, but I know my parents moved around a bit when I was a newborn.

Often do you shower? Every morning before my shift. I hate feeling sweaty and icky when I report for work.

Well can you cook? I can’t at all.

Many close friends do you have? I have two people I count as my absolute best friends, but I have a handful of close friends as well.

Many Brothers or sisters do you have? One of each.

Often do you go swimming? I don’t swim much at all, really...I haven’t done it since 2019, so that should say enough. As relaxing as it is, I feel like the clean-up afterwards can be such a challenge lol. Like if you swim in a pool you have to rigorously wash the chlorine off of you; and if you swim in the sea you have to also be thorough about making sure you’ve removed all the sand from your body.

Many times have you texted today? I don’t think I texted today but I did spend my whole day on chat platforms.

Do you like your toast (colour, topping)? I don’t have super particular preferences; I just like mine on the burnt side.

Do you like your tea and/or coffee? My coffee has to be sweet for me to enjoy it. I can take black coffee/Americano; I’ll just wince a lot with every sip. No tea for me thanks.

Do you like to celebrate your birthdays? With a lot of food.

Are you feeling today? A little frustrated because of an argument incident this evening. But I’m shaking it off and just focusing on the release of Butter tomorrow. My first BTS comeback!!!

Serious are you about your career goals? Very.

Many rooms are in your house? In total, 9.

Many bedrooms in your house? 4.

Did you do in your school exams? I was never consistent. I slacked off a looooooot in grade school; couldn’t give less of a shit about my classes then. I got a bit more hardworking in high school, but I still was a bit lax and I allowed myself to not put a lot of effort in subjects I didn’t care a lot for and that I know I would never have to use in real life, like chemistry or accounting, so there were exams I really excelled in and others that I would fail. It was only in college I started taking my studies incredibly seriously and I believe that showed in the grades I eventually got.

Close do you live to your parents? They’re like, five steps away.

Close do you live to your siblings? My sister’s literally in the room next to mine.

Sensitive to criticism are you? I know it’s something that can never be avoided, so I’m always open to hearing them, especially if it’s meant to help me. It doesn’t mean I enjoy it as it is being given.

Motivated to make changes are you? Depends on my mood and mindset. 

Creative are you (1-10): -0.5.

Hard working are you (1-10): Probably a 22 if I really put my head into a task.

Sporty are you (1-10): I dunno, maybe a 6? I do like playing table tennis, but I’m pretty meh at any other sport.

Musical are you (1-10): 0.

Do you prefer your eggs? Runny yolk; scrambled; or a really packed omelette.

Often do you go out to eat? Before the pandemic, I liked eating out 2-3 times a week.

Would your best friend describe you? Not sure, I never tried asking them this. I hope it’s all nice things, though.

Can someone cheer you up if you’re sad? Send me photos of V. Hahahaha

Often do you meet up with your friends? ...What do you think? D:

Important is religion to you? It is not a part of my life whatsoever.

Old were you when you first stayed overnight from home? 15 or 16, I can’t really remember.

Old were you when you got your first pet? I was maybe 6.

Tech savvy are you? I know enough to survive my own, but I obviously can’t hack into other computers or things like that.

Do you show you appreciate those you care for? Buying them food.

Often do you cut your hair? I only take a trip to the salon once a year.

Often do you paint your nails? Never.

Many countries have you visited? Six.

Boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Just one.

:: Why ::

... did you choose your username? Because it was straightforward.

... did you take this survey? I like surveys made in categories, and this seemed interesting and varied enough.

... did you choose the career you did? I found that I enjoyed it MILES more than journalism.

...did you last leave the house? I had to go to a local LBC for a work errand.

...did you last give up on something? She wasn’t worth the effort anymore. She hadn’t been for a while, but it took me forever to realize.

...did you search the last thing you searched? I wanted to sing along to the song but it was in Japanese, so I had to look up its lyrics.

...would you give up on someone completely? Oof, I guess you can refer to one of the previous questions. ^

:: If...::

You could live in any country which would you choose? Canada.

You could choose any animal as a pet which one? I’m perfectly content with dogs.

You could be famous for something what would you like? Being known for a funny tweet would probably be enough lol. I have no desire to be famous.

You are sad, how do you combat it? I don’t really get sad anymore these days, so I can’t super remember the go-to tactics I depend on...I guess I like listening to sad songs and allowing myself to wallow in the sadness, because I know I have to accept and process my feelings first before I can be able to calm down.  

You can drive when did you learn? I learned shortly before I started college, when I was 18, because no one was going to be able to take me to university when the school year started.

You could have any job what would it be? Idk, I like the one I have now.

You could go anywhere for a vacation where would you go? Somewhere with a completely different feel and atmosphere, like Norway, Sweden, Finland...that part of Europe, basically.

You could eat anything right now what would it be? Samgak gimbap :/

You wrote a book what genre/topic would it be? It would be a book of essays or maybe a memoir.

You had a theme song what would it be? Idk I don’t really think about this.

You could meet any band/singer in person which one? Billie Eilish seems awesome and easy and fun to talk to.

You could act in any movie which would it be? No thanks.

You get married what venue would you like? Hotel.

If you have kids do you have names picked out? I have one name picked out for a girl but that’s it.

Could describe your dream home what would it be like? Brutalist and minimalist, with large windows, cove lights, and a lot of white space.

You could go back in time what would you change? Break up with Gab earlier.

Could use 3 words to describe your childhood which ones? Could’ve been better.

Could get the answer to any question which question would you choose? When I would die and how, just so I can have peace of mind.

You could have an endless supply of something what would it be? Money, because of course.

Meet anyone who no longer lives who’d you choose? My great-grandfather, mom’s side.

:: Can ::

... you ride a bike? No, never learned.

... you ski? I’ve never even seen snow, so no.

... you bake a cake? I can try but it will probably be very clumsily made as I don’t bake.

... you sing well? I wouldn’t say that. I like singing when I’m alone, but it doesn’t mean I’m any good.

... you do your own taxes? I’ve never tried haha so I guess not.

... you remain calm in a crisis? Depends on how serious it is.

... you do first aid? Let’s just say I wouldn’t volunteer if it comes down to it because I feel like I’d commit one fatal mistake that would make the situation graver. 

... remember your best friend’s family members’ names? Both of their families, yes.

... you fire a gun? I’ve never tried so I doubt it.

... your parents drive? Yep.

...your best friend dance well? They’re not ‘dancers’ per se but sure, they can bust out a move or two.

...you make people laugh easily? Not everyone, but sure.

...stand up for yourself? That’s what I’m trying to learn these days.

...you do a martial art? No.

:: Would ::

You like to learn a new language? That’s always a welcome opportunity.

Save the life of a stray animal? Absolutely.

Know what to do if there was a hurricane? We have several ones come in the country every year so yeah, I can definitely say we’ve long been well-prepared for them.

Try a new cuisine? I do this as often as I can.

Risk your life for anyone? Yes.

You like to get back in touch with someone? No, I’m good now.

You drive in the middle of the night to get a stuck friend? Ina heartbeat.

You Know how to perform CPR? In relation to the first aid question, I wouldn’t volunteer myself in case I make a wrong move.

You likely win in a game of chess? I don’t even know how it works, so no.

You stop talking for a day for $100? Easily.

[otpnessmess]

Big Brother Jasonette please?

Hi! Sorry it took me some time to answer but I hope you like this! I assumed you meant Jasonette in a platonic way, if you didn’t I’m sorry because that’s what I went with. - Lis

-

Marinette was bouncing slightly on her seat, waiting for the class to finally let out. She had tried to be discreet but judging by Chloé’s constant glances, she wasn’t succeeding at all. 

“What’s with you, ma chéri? Got a toad under your shirt?” The blonde finally caved in and asked near the end of the lesson. 

“Jason is visiting for the weekend and said he would pick me up after class. I haven’t seen him in person for months and I miss him so much!” She whispered back to her girlfriend with a gigantic grin on her face. 

Jason Todd and Marinette Dupain-Cheng were siblings in all but blood. They met when the young girl had been accompanying her parents on a trip to Gotham, and made good friends while their parents spoke about the party her family was chosen to prepare the catering for. The two teenagers had spent the rest of the week joined at the hip, wandering the streets of the city almost every day since Jason wanted to show Mari everything he loved about his city. Since at the time Jay was 18 while Marinette was only 13, he proclaimed himself her new big brother, something she told him she had wanted all her life. 

Unfortunately, the Dupain-Chengs had to fly back to Paris after the event was done, but that didn’t mean the newly formed friendship had to vanish. Through the years they kept close contact using video calls and messages every day, even managing to see each other in person every two or three months when Marinette flew to Gotham or Jason to Paris (courtesy of Bruce’s jet).

It was safe to say they were as close as you could get with someone you weren’t dating, so much so that he was the very first person the girl revealed her Ladybug identity to. 

She was about to get crushed by the pressure of keeping the secret on her own while having to deal with Lila and her former friends, as well as having to perform in class and finishing commissions. It had been a close call, but when Jason saw her pale and sunken face during a video call he refused to let this go on any longer. 10 hours later they were cuddling on her roof while eating cookies and milk as she vented about everything that had been going on in her life. 

The more she talked, the more he wanted to go teach a lesson to those kids that had made his Pixie-Pop feel like she wasn’t good enough. If he ever got his hands on them… But he wouldn’t. Not unless Marinette expressly asked for his help. 

She hadn’t meant to reveal her identity, it had simply slipped out. In hindsight, mentioning Chat Noir hadn’t been her most brilliant idea, as once she had started to rant about his manners towards her civilian self, it had been impossible to hold off from spilling everything he had done to make Ladybug uncomfortable too. 

Jay had looked surprised, but instead of whatever reaction Marinette had expected, he got pretty excited about it.

“Of course it was you, sweetheart, I should’ve seen it before!" 

He had then insisted on helping her train together with his family when she visited Gotham (she had known of their secret identities for a couple of years already). She got faster, stronger, and better at fighting within a few months, and soon Red Hood and Ladybug had taken to patrolling together whenever he was in the city. 

She couldn’t have wished for a better brother, which is why as soon as the bell rang she sprinted out of the class as quickly as she could. 

Jason was leaning against his bike right next to the doors as promised and picked her up effortlessly when he saw her flung herself at him with a squeal. 

"Jay!”

“Pixie-Pop!” He squeezed the living daylights out of her before putting her down and ruffling her hair with a giant smile on his face. “Glad to see you faring so well, pumpkin.”

She would’ve answered the same had it not been for Lila’s voice drilling its way to her ears. The liar was doing her usual number of bragging about whichever big name. Unfortunately for her, she had chosen the wrong big name that day. 

Jason didn’t understand why Marinette was frowning at the green-eyed girl, that is until she and her clique were close enough for him to clearly hear sausage hair say she was a close friend of the Wayne family and that she was getting married to the youngest son. 

“What kind of fucking bullshit-” He glanced at Marinette in confusion and anger. “Is this the girl who has been taking all of your friends away? The liar?”

Mari quickly tried to make his anger go away by holding onto his arm, lest he got akumatized because of Lila. 

“Jay, keep your cool, don’t let her be the reason you get akumatized, please. We can deal with her in another way.” She knew her brother had a myriad of weapons on him at all times, and wouldn’t put it past him to try and show the Italian a quick lesson. 

The way his eyes softened as he looked at her pleading face relieved her. Catastrophe avoided. 

Right? 

“Oh god, Marinette I can’t believe this! Isn’t he a bit too old for you? What kind of favors did you have to do to get someone like him?” She hadn’t seen them approaching the entrance and almost the whole class, with her former best friend and the liar leading the pack, were standing near them with judging expressions on their faces. The venom in Lila’s voice was ignored by everyone except the two siblings and Chloé (who was just now getting out of the class).

The bluenette was about to start panicking. Lila had not just said that. She knew Jason wouldn’t let it go and if her brother went to jail for that stupid girl, Mari would never forgive herself. So she tried to drag him away while looking at her girlfriend for backup. “Let it be Jay, please. Please.”

With a swift movement, he stood in front of her and looked at the liar with such hatred in his eyes many of the students around Lila scattered, afraid of his wrath. “I take it you’re Ms. Lila Rossi correct?”

Lila hadn’t seemed to notice what his expression meant, or maybe she wanted to pretend nothing was going on, and she smiled cockily at him. “Why yes, I am.” The smirk Jason sent her way made her rethink her posture for a millisecond.

“I see. Well, let me introduce myself then. I’m Jason Todd. It’s a pleasure to finally know who has been the one spreading those deceiving rumors about my family, I assure you Wayne Enterprises’ lawyers will be happy to give you a call or two. Maybe expect to receive one from the lawyers of other people you’ve been lying about too.”

Not waiting her so-called best friend to be humiliated like that, Alya intervened in a clear display of having no sense of self-preservation. Even as Lila had gone pale at the mention of Jason’s name. “You can’t do that! You’re lying! It’s probably just because you’re dating Marinette, and she can’t just accept not being the center of attention. Whatever she told you it’s not true! You’re pathetic!”

That last bit was thrown to Marinette’s face, who had found comfort in Chloé’s arms for the last minute or two. She immediately shrunk into herself, making Jason want to rip the class to shreds.

“Marinette is my little sister, and she would never harm someone else on purpose. If you think that’s the case then you probably don’t know her at all. As for Ms. Rossi, as far as I know, her lies can be easily disproven with a quick Google search, not that you have ever tried to find proof of her claims.” How an akuma hadn’t come looking for him already was a mystery. On the outside, he had on a cold, stern act, but Mari knew the look in his eyes, he was far from calm. “This girl you’re trying to defend is hurting people with her dumb tattle-tales. She’s hurting my family. And I don’t take kindly to those who threaten my family.”

Not wanting to spend another extra second in the presence of some stupid students who had been bullying his sister, he got on his bike with Marinette in tow (the latter having already kissed her blonde girlfriend goodbye) and left for the bakery.

The weekend went by way too fast for both Marinette and Jason’s liking, but they made sure to not waste it thinking about unpleasant sausage girls, and instead spent it going to their favorite spots in the city. By Sunday afternoon, they were tired but happy, as they munched on some pastries while Marinette showed Jay her newest designs.  He left the next morning, only after making Marinette promise she would tell him if she was ever having trouble with her class again.

Monday mornings were usually the worst at school because Bustier tended to leave them to work on their own more than usual, so she had to sit through an extra session of hearing Lila’s stories. Though at least the last few months she had had Chloé by her side Today, however, Mari arrived at the class to see everyone surrounding the Italian girl and demanding answers. Quickly scurrying into her seat at the back of the class, she looked at her girlfriend inquisitively.

“They just got the news of how many people were suing Lila after they found out about the lies thanks to your brother, and they’re mad about her lying to them. As if they weren’t the ones who chose to believe her, and ignore you. The pests are probably going to try and apologize to you as soon as they notice you’re here, ma Minette.” The blue-haired girl could feel more than hear the growl Chloé let out when she hugged her close as if trying to protect her from the imminent begs of forgiveness from their classmates.

“Don’t worry Chlo, they’re not getting forgiveness from me any time soon. I just don’t think I’m ready for such a thing yet…” Even as she said that she felt nervous about having to confront the class. They were sure to turn on her as they did every time she refused them something.

Before she could go down a rabid hole of anxiety, though, she got a message.

‘Have a nice day today at school Pixie-Pop. You got this! P.S. You know I’m only a phone call away if you want me to kick their asses’

That and the ladybug emoji at the end of it made her laugh. Jason always tried to act dorky whenever he knew she felt down, and it usually helped her feel better. With newfound confidence, she leaned onto Chloé’s shoulder with a smile, enjoying whatever minutes of peace she had left before having to face the incoming storm.

-

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