#petition to stop scaring new systems

[lefluoritesys]

How living with DID/OSDD is presented in the media, sometimes even by systems themselves: Dangerous, everything is bad, constant misery.

How living with DID/OSDD actually is: WHO ATE MY PASTA?! JARED?!?!?!

(This is entirely satire and a joke for my fellow systems, not downplaying, overgeneralizing, or making fun of experience)

[monkeywiki]

No I'm sorry, but same for me too. The fact is that we're stuck as a two-party system until we get a voting overhaul, because "majority wins" means that the person the most people can agree upon will take ALL of the votes regardless of anyone else's votes.

As much as I despise the current candidates, the fact is that Trump has a guaranteed 30% of the vote. If any of the non-Trump candidates dip below 30%, he wins. You've seen what he's like; do you really think we'll have the opportunity to have another fair election after this?

We all have better candidates than Biden in mind, but he's the figurehead of the anti-Trump movement by virtue of "20-25% of people always vote for the incumbent, and every other non-Republican is voting for Biden to stop Trump". If you think you can honestly get 40% of people to agree on a single third-party candidate and beat out both Trump AND Biden then I'm all ears, but let's be honest, it's just not happening this close to the election.

However, this is NOT the way it always has to be. We - the people who hate this situation as much or more than you do - are working on getting Ranked Choice voting on our state ballots so we can get out of this shit system and actually succeed in getting a third-party candidate in office. You should join us in doing that so we can actually make it happen!

We all hate the situation we've been put into, but we have to use our control tactfully. Splitting up the anti-trump voting bloc is how he wins, period. It's how he won in 2016 and it's how he'll win again if we don't band together and stop him.

im just really scared that biden's not an appealing candidate strategically and that he'd be better off stepping down and letting at least kamala of all people take his place. i swear that'd up their chance of winning by at least 30%, but his stubbornness and refusing to step down, + top democrats begging for him to do it, whatever the 'super friends' were visiting him to tell him to step down, + calling his own vice president 'donald trump' and the ukrainian president 'putin'... it's just... not looking good.

now i'm really excited to tell you that claudiakarina2024 is getting petitions done with thousands upon thousands of people per state almost every other day, i'm hearing about new states that are now entering vote-able state, which to me stands out significantly because its happening so fast.

what stands out to me, is that she's out there on the ground, she's speaking at protests, she's talking to everyone, she is not afraid to talk to anyone and listen to every day people-- while biden is claiming he's done more than any other president, she's not bragging, she's working.

now, what stands out to me, as someone who grew up a democrat and has become a skeptic, is that i'm seeing real immense growth in this campaign in real time-- faster than i've been able to keep up with. they talk about project 2024. they talk about palestine. they talk about the working class. they talk about a LOT

the truth is they've already reached 20 states this early in their campaign, and they're still working tirelessly-- without corporate funding, to spread the word-- and the reason it works, is because we're all tired. and there's a LOT of us.

just listen to her speaking voice! do not give into the defeatism the two party system sells you! listen to these people who are working their ass off for something we believe in and building a ground roots movement with un-matchable momentum for the working class, take a look around you and your fellow people who believe in the same as you and hear what's being said right now!

what we're not seeing is her on mainstream television, BECAUSE of what she stands for, what she advocates for is an enemy of the corporate state, and it's up to us to learn, listen and boost her messaging so we can reach everyone. it truly is possible, you have to take the first step and listen, and speak up!

[syggwolf]

Not gonna lie, the people who gleefully support the violence of a revolution while talking about how voting is pointless remind me of the people who jump straight from "I feel unsafe in my neighborhood" to "I'm gonna buy a fucking gun." while they completely skip over security systems, a dog, better door locks, community watch and literally any other option that doesn't involve plugging a chunk of lead into someone's skull at high speed. Seriously, y'all remind me of this white dude I know who got into a verbal altercation with a Mexican co-worker at his job and BOUGHT A FUCKING HANDGUN because he got scared. It's pathetic. And it's because y'all just want to kill people and it's the nice and easy binary option where there's an "us" and a "them" and if you can just kill enough of the "them", then everything will be great! Which is literally fucking untrue. War will not end war, and neither will violence. Ask fucking Oppenheimer how that worked out. Also, by all means ignore that any actual revolution in the United States of any kind will result in the dissolution of the United States entirely as a power vacuum literally implodes into fractured state based insanity at best and LITERAL invasion by foreign powers at worst unless you have the US military backing the entire thing and a new head of power ready to plug in. And we've fucking seen which way the military leans. On top of that, it's going to make life worse for quite literally everyone who exists here including you, and everyone who exists everywhere else because there's a literal power balance between world powers and tipping that balance AT ALL will result in MASSIVE colonization by those other powers and even worse standards of living then the ones everyone complains about under colonial America. Not to mention that several hundred million American refugees will then flood already struggling places making living conditions worse for them too. People claim they care and they claim they want to make things better but they won't even do the most basic shit first. They'll bitch about the phrasing of "glorious revolution" and how it isn't going to be like that or whatever, but who fucking cares? Y'all treat it like the fucking rapture. You clearly want punitive justice for "the colonizers" and you gleefully proclaim about how people just don't want it to be them. Yeah, you're right, I don't want it to be me just because I happen to be a native american born in America and the leaders I am trying to get rid of and the system I am working to try and fix have hurt and are hurting other people. I'm literally the opposite of a colonizer but I guess since I live here I should fuckin' die right? And you're trying to force a fucking violent revolution on me like that's going to solve it while you decry any other option! You are LITERALLY accelerationists! Combine that with the whole glorious revolution you want and what the fuck does that make you? You're just leftist Christians minus the religious part waiting on your glorious day of perfection to solve everything while you're slowly turning into a fucking death cult and you'll sacrifice any level of stability and any number of people to make it happen. Congrats, you've become modern religiofascist conservatives! And then you have the gall to attempt to guilt people into wanting to commit societal suicide by talking about how my and other American's existence kills other people like we all have a personal fucking button that says, "Drone strike a brown child." that we push for fucking fun. Go fucking vote you assholes. Start some fucking petitions. ACTUALLY call your reps because I am at a fucking loss for how any of you who can't even handle a fucking phone call without getting sweaty are going to do anything during a violent revolution but cede power to the worst and most controlling people. Thank whatever powers that be that I stopped thinking if I just killed the right people it would fix everything and joined the actually empathetic human race trying to actually solve problems instead of lighting fires.

[army-of-bee-assassins]

[Image description: Four screenshots of text from the linked article. The text is transcribed below.

Image 1: There were three of us in the game — Robert as the game master, me as Chester McLaine and Argo as Mack “The Torso” Torsson. In the first session we were different characters, I was Trinidad Tranquille, a young communist given time off work due to excessive violence and Argo as some petit bourgeoisie type guy whose name I don’t remember — anyhow we both died while trying to stop the initial attack on the station, which was in those bygone days carried out by the Religion of Evil type guys. Trini was a cool guy though. He worked at a meat shop that belonged to Carson Torsson, Mack Torson’s dad, and had a system of stealing from work in order to ‘adequately compensate for his labour’. He also liked to practice a crude type of critical theory in the vein of ‘this building has been made that large to humiliate me, to show off with a power greater than me, to scare me into submission’. And he had a system of smoking no more than five cigarettes per day to cut down on smoking costs — Kim’s single cigarette habit might be a distant echo of that. He had, I think, a 7 in PSY (at least 5) and 2 in INT and mediocre physical stats, the core system was pretty much set by then.

Image 2: Well anyhow, a role playing game set in a fairly realistic setting gives fairly realistic results on human behaviour. Torsson and McLaine would both abuse their power. Torsson would hold grudges. McLaine would forfeit a possibility to get new gear in order to do a favour for a new policeman. They would both participate in abuse and exploitation of Chad Tilbrook, an officer junior to even them. And they didn’t even think they were abusing their power. They were fulfilling important objectives by getting guns and drugs for the big revenge operation and they did it in a handy manner and they didn’t think that they are abusing the unconscious body of the Toothless Armataur as the racist myth said this race will regenerate from pretty much anything. McLaine was also way too stupid to concentrate on the main plot and the politics of the police station. McLaine was a sword guy — back then it was still a guns AND swords universe due to swords being cool and guns being crappy and taking a lot of time to load. Torson was an idiotic body builder and a major admirer of Lieutenant John “The Archetype” McCoy who was our Station’s resident mass murderer — “but they were all really bad” — Station 41 was known as “the bloody murder station” and no one saw it as an abnormality, really. The interrogation of one of the bad guys, a morbidly obese local religious figurehead, had actual mutilation torture in it and I believe it was ultimately unsuccessful as he just retreated ‘into a happy place inside his head”, and the bullet-lobotomized officer Damien “44” Latrec was the only one to call it torture (enthusiastically). And you don’t pay it much mind. Instead, Torson thought about stuff like how to get it on with the captain’s secretary and tattooing the word ‘Jamrock’ on his body hundreds of times over and McLaine thought about stuff like ‘what the hell is going on with the armour maker or Nix Gottlieb’, put a lot of stock into being a communist memebot and loved the captain uncritically.

Image 3: I think Torson and McLaine lived with each other and also with two other young cops, Sundance Fischer and Elfboy Williams, to cut the living costs. Elfboy’s thing was being the dexterity bro, in which he continually lost to McLaine and Sundance’s thing was having a fat ass and cleaning his guns all the time. Communal living is a thing we have done, on and off, for most of our adult lives, although at the time of playing the Torson and McLaine game we had not yet started with that.

Image 4: Which brings us to another central concept of the Jamrock campaign, namely that the cops are also a gang and the gangsters are also cops. The first is rather apparent in the light off the BLM movement, the second should also be rather intuitively understood as criminals hold some amount of power, have to be organized about it and thus have to enforce a set of rules — I have heard from a friend that knows about these kinds of things that the public is to a degree protected by the criminal underground and their customs — that it could be worse than it is, and of course it can — Estonia is generally a sleepy and silent place without gunshots or mass riots. A gang is also an interesting social formation because it is such a simple one, even children can put one together, and they often do. In the Eastern Block’s XX century children’s literature it is a staple that school-age boys are playing “Indians” and those Indians most often have military structure and discipline. Campaigns set in the Elysium world owe an enormous amount to classic youth literature — and I may have to remind the Western reader that classic Eastern block children’s literature has stuff in it like ‘an absent-minded scientist type looking for his glasses in a pile of dead bodies murdered by the government after a food protest or something’ (J. Olesha, The Three Fat Men) — though when you think of it, Tom Sawyer also had death in it.

End ID.]

So. This is probably old news to anyone that’s been into the game longer than like two weeks BUT 😔 I’ve been slowly looking through some of Martin Luiga’s articles on the creation of DE and everything’s been really interesting and cool so far. I haven’t come close to looking at everything yet but the little tidbits here on the early development of Elysium as a setting and the ongoing themes of police brutality/corruption that DE would draw so heavily on really caught my eye. From here

[rottendollface]

Jar O' Kinks Headcanons.

Characters: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Warnings: NSFW, female reader, description of various kinks (vanilla and popular kinks aren't included in further list), breath play, CNC, kidnapper/hostage role play, knife play, blood play, sex during period, humiliation, monster fucking, abusive mentally unstable Childe, misogyny, exaggerated patriarchal system of relationships, toxic masculinity, Childe in Delusion and Foul Legacy, sex under drugs (mist pollen), electrical sexual stimulation, 18+.

Dominant and breeding

Childe believes in traditional established roles in relationships between man and woman. He won't let you dominate him and you better forget that idea. He gladly and with pleasure helds control over you, builds a perfect scenario where you can obey him and gets angry every time something goes different from his fantasies. He sees himself as an exemplary protector and caregiver – and Childe doesn't care about your opinion on this. He brushes off all your complaints about his behavior and treats them like a childish whims of a woman's character.

During sex he prefers positions with him on top, his favorite is missionary – nothing busts his arousal more than seeing your petite body trapped under his. Childe likes to push your legs up to your chest after he came, as he thinks it increases chance of your pregnancy, and doesn't hurry to pull his cock out, using it to block his cum from spilling. Childe keeps an eye on your menstrual cycle and sends you to see gynecologist regularly, makes sure you don't use any contraceptive. He wants you to birth him at least four healthy children and can't wait to hear news about your pregnancy.

Overstim and orgasm control

Childe has tremendously high stamina and is almost never satisfied with only one round. He won't stop fucking you until he feels pleased enough to give you rest before the next day comes: his masculine power is notoriously known in Morepesok and Snezhnaya's capital, so you have to service his needs almost every day. He overstimulates you on purpose and prohibits you from cumming until you beg for release. In the end of a second round your pussy is extremely sensitive already and feels painful from all the ruined orgasms. It feels different to pound you when your insides are trembling and clenching around his length uncontrollably, and your body shaking in response to his every action, wanting to reach it's painful orgasm. Childe feels a kind of sadistic pleasure when he looks at your cunt all red, with a quivering hole, that is leaking with his cum and your juices, and labia, and clit swollen since blood flow became intensive in stimulated zone. He gives you a proper aftercare after sessions like this and doesn't initiate new intimacy until you recover.

Monster fucking, knife and blood play

Delusion. Childe uses this form of his rarely as it becomes very easy to hurt you accidentally, but it adds extra interest and excitement to the game. He likes to scare you by showing you how easily he manipulates pure electricity and causes lightnings and thunders to impress you, chuckles every time your hair stands up because of the electric aura that surrounds him. Childe brings usage of Electro without your consent, as the atmosphere of tension and fear during foreplay with Delusion drives his polluted by mist pollen mind crazy. He is almost cumming by your worrying face and spasming cunt every time sparks of electricity shocking different parts of your body. While fingering you he is using it on your clit, then tingles your insides to intense sensitivity. The strong smell of mist pollen affects both of you, turning Childe into a sadistic beast and bursting his sex drive, and making you a perfect numb cocksleeve, as it befuddles your brain and blocks all the healthy criticism and thinking process. In this state you take everything Childe gives you and just moan in pleasure when he hits your nipples and clit with electricity while fucking your obedient pussy until it takes the shape of his cock. You can sense only his thick dick pressing all the right spots inside and his palms squeezing your breasts. Childe won't stop until you are drunk of mist pollen and his sperm, doesn't scorn to fuck your tight throat after he is done with your pussy, then leave you dumb and numb. When he is sober, he will bring you back to senses and bath you. 

Foul Legacy. Childe becomes more violent and nasty in his desires, as he represents the pure filth and malice with this form of his. For him, as a demon, the philosophy of pleasure gets a remark: in this state Childe thinks that pleasure and pain are going along. His guise of a soldier in shining armor falls off, exposing the nature of a libertine and malefactor: it's impossible to describe what a great bliss he feels, flouting a beautiful and pious girl. Childe takes all the pain gladly while forcing his monstrous cock down your throat and causing big crystally clear tears to fall from your eyes. You just look too cute with wet traces of tears on your cheeks and under your nose, choking on his dick and trying to keep your jaws apart. Childe will take you by your hair and use your throat as a fleshlight at a fast pace, then hold your nose, while cumming, to make you choke and drink his thick sperm until the last drop. He will degrade you for being such a slut and taking his cock so easily, hit your cheeks and forehead with it, smearing your saliva and remnants of cum on your face. Cursing and growling, he loses everything human.

As an Abyssal creature Childe draws strength from ancient forbidden rituals, one of which requires maiden's blood. Childe gets disgusting and greedy, makes you participate in during your period and still leaves cuts on your body with a ritual blade to spill more of your blood on an Abyssal altar. Demon inside him wants to taste blood, and your aching core seems even more attractive than before: pain and pleasure mix together forming a perfect harmony, Childe dives his tongue deep inside your pussy savoring your menstrual blood and bringing you a fragile relief from cramps. When you are close to your orgasm he pulls his tongue out, let droplets of your blood to fall from it on the dark stone. He replaces his tongue with his leaking cock, and your messy pussy takes it gladly to finally reach the desirable pleasure. The energy that gets released during the ritual enhances his power and health in a Foul Legacy, so he wants to cum together with you to get the maximum of it. The ritual blade never leaves his hand, and Childe presses the cold steel to your skin flatwise, reveling in the beauty of a cursed metal decorated with runes contrasting with your clean and tender skin. Pounding your pussy sensuously and steady, he licks your arm before cutting out his demonic name on it. You have nothing to worry about: you won't have scars or bruises after, he will heal you and reward you for enduring the ritual and its necessities.

Choking/choked

Childe loves to grab your throat not only during sex but during arguments and just because he feels bored, too. He thinks your neck is a masterpiece, the goddess of beauty gifted you with it to steal men's gazes and drive them crazy, make them fantasize about leaving a kiss or a hickey on it. Refined and long, with a perfect velvet skin – Childe buys you necklaces decorated with the most expensive gems. His palms fit it perfectly, and every time he squeezes your neck, he feels blessed. The way your eyes roll to your skull, the way you part your pink lips to whisper to him something without making a sound and the way they lose their vivid color and fading to gray makes Childe hard in his pants.

Childe loves being choked by your bare thighs. Wrap your legs around his neck without fear to hurt him, constrict him harder when he begs you to torture him more. Reduce him to fainting state, make Childe dig his nails into your soft meat in an unspoken plea to give him some air. It is something erotical in seeing Childe suffocating from your legs on his strong throat. The way he finally inhales fresh air makes your panties wet, and something is clicking in your head to please you in a psychological way. This little piece of power you have over him is your outlet from everything he is doing to you, but Childe will never admit that sometimes he lets you dominate.

Bimbofication

Pretty pink dresses, naive smile and stupid gaze – this is what Childe used to imagine real women are. The destructive image of women in cinema and in Snezhnaya's most popular philosophers speeches made him think that girls are all about money, handsome husband, makeup and other girly shit that he hated while being a teenager. Childe didn't even notice when he started to like this exaggerated image of a woman, but this is exactly how he wants you to look in front of his colleagues. Childe saves the best of your intelligence and character for himself, and for others it's enough to think of you as a braindead slut who cares about her look only.

Spanking/spanked

In this world Childe likes only two things: a good fight and your bruised ass – and sometimes he combines them. Pounce him like a furios panther, give him a hit or two, leave a slap on his face and he will stare at you in awe before giving you a good behavior lesson: it creates such a great chemical burst in Childe's mind so he falls in love with you again. You don't have to be quiet when he is spanking you — you can scream as much as you want. Childe treats your skin carefully not to make it calloused, but it's hard for him to control himself: your fat ass looks so delicious when it jiggles from a hit, so he hits you more and more until it takes a deep red color and your muscles tense.

Public

Childe doesn't like to show affection in public normally, but sometimes he feels especially jealous and just needs to make others know who owns your soul and body. He doesn't have to fuck you in front of them, it's enough for him to make them hear your muffled moans and show all the bite marks and hickeys he had left on your skin by giving you exposive dresses.

Wax play

Childe treats it as a form of art therapy and a good foreplay when he wants some sensuous and slow sex. It gives you a good stimulation and a good massage too before the actual part of the session. Childe likes how confident and relaxed you are after wax play as his hands were giving you a good rub on your tensed tired muscles and his mouth told you the loveliest compliments.

Piss play

Isn't oftenly used by Childe because of it's untidiness but it is happening almost every time during plays with Electro. Childe is enjoying the fact that the way he rubs on your clit and teases it with electricity while pounding your sloppy pussy makes you piss yourself, but the necessity of changing bedsheets and leaving you senseless in a messy bed until his return disgusts him – even his sadism has a line, and such a broken state of yours makes him feel pity for you.

Role play and rigger

Childe doesn't like to play roles, and scenarios with doctors, teachers and bosses aren't funny to him. He prefers to play kidnapper with you being his hostage: threatenings, blackmailing, bruises on your hands and neck from a tight rope, rough sex in a cold basement on old matrass – this is what Childe needs in role plays since he had never treated you this way in real life. Restrained, obedient and scared to death – Childe's sadistic inclinations are begging to be pleased, his dick gets so hard it sticks to his abdomen when Childe sees you looking lost, not being able to distinguish reality from play. He loves to keep your hands tied behind your back while fucking you in a doggy style, one of his palms holding your hip and other is used for leaning on. Saying his disgusting praises of you being such an obedient captive, Childe starts to mistake the reality with fantasy as well. The fact that you admit the conceivability of him losing his mind and locking you in a basement one day makes Childe grin and laugh even more.

CNC

The great guilty pleasure of his. Childe finds it more arousing to win everything in a fight: it can be material things or something carnal, it doesn't matter for him until he takes it on the right of a victor. When he feels the urge to break you and take over your mind and emotions your consent seems unnecessary to him, more to say, it can spoil everything. The true nature of a warrior is cruel, you can't blame him for what he is doing — and if you start, he will outplay you one more time by shading fake tears and asking to forgive the "bad Ajax" that is ruining his life since he fell into the Abyss and survived all the horrors of being trained and raised as a demon in his early teenage years. Childe knows you will forgive him and some time later he will force you into intimacy again, make you look at his face during the process and tell him how much you love him through your tears. You shouldn't forget that your life is possible because he wants you to live, you get tasty food and enough water because he wants you to be fed well, you get beautiful dresses and accessories because he wants to make you glad – and you should thank him for it every time he is molesting your body by or without your will.

Feet

Childe isn't into a foot fetish but ankles and thighs are his soft spot. He adores seeing ankles with these protruding little bones decorated with bracelets and chains, it grants him with aesthetic pleasure and Childe just watches such beauty in awe.

Soft and warm thighs are the best place for him to keep his arm on. The delicate skin of such a private feminine part makes him go crazy and shower it in kisses and love bites. Your thighs are a good alternative to your pussy and rarely Childe catches the mood when he needs to bury his dick in between your thighs and stroke it slowly with your supple meat.

Pet/owner

When Childe was younger he liked the fantasy of a woman acting like a dog. He used to imagine how he would walk his girlfriend on a leash and make her eat from a bowl but when Childe became mature and got sexual experience, he found more exciting fetishes to try and the idea of a pet-woman was forgotten.

Gags

Childe loves to humiliate you with a muzzle gag, makes you wear it every time you dare to raise your voice at him or show any signs of rebellion. He is always threatening you that he will force you to wear it on public as well to show everyone how a scolding woman should be treated. He doesn't even need to perform anything sexual to you as it pleases him in different way.

Somno

Due to his work Childe oftenly comes home late at night and finds you sleeping peacefully in a shared bed. You look so adorable Childe can't resist to leave a kiss on your forehead and caress your hair. You know he needs a special treatment from all the stress he gets from a Harbingers job, so you always let him do everything he needs while you are sleeping. Childe is pleased when he pushes his fingers in your warm hole and feels your wetness moistening them, so he doesn't waste any time for preparation and dives his cock in your core. Licking your lips and sucking on them gently, Childe lulls you back to sleep, not to break your comfort every time you start to move. Childe misses the feeling of your tongue on his, but he can't wake you up just because he is in a soft mood – you are future mother of kids, and you need to rest without any interruptions. Childe touches you all over, gropes your breasts, gets impatient, thrusts in you faster and closes his mouth with his hand to muffle loud moans. Your cheeks flushing red and your body is hot – you probably are seeing a lewd dream without realizing that everything is real. Your pretty lips are parted and your breath is fast and heavy; Childe's fingers find your hard clit and stroke it rapidly, as he is close to release too. Your pussy spasms around him tightly, sucking his length deeper and making Childe finish inside. He doesn't care to pull out, lays near you and moves your body in a perfect position for cuddling and cockwarming, ready to find the rest for his stressed out mind.

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 7 June ‘21

Liam’s podcast with Steve Bartlett is out and while I still don’t care about that guy I’ll give him this-- he does great at getting out of the way and letting Liam talk. And boy does Liam talk! Liam says A LOT and let’s all just pause to send him some big hugs before we get into right? And then look to the future- Liam’s routine is to say ‘things have been terrible but it’s fine, it’s fine NOW’, always, even when that is absolutely obviously not true, and today is no different but for once I actually believe some of his hopeful bits too which is so great! I hope things really are shifting for him and I can’t wait to hear this new song of his. But there’s a lot that’s hard to hear too, oh Liam. He said that he and Maya have broken up (so yes, presumably why he just moved again such a short time after they moved into their haunted house), talked about his struggles with his alcoholism (and said he’s been sober for a month right now, go babe!), shared the usual distressing stories about his time in the band and what that was like for him (and how it still impacts him), and he talked about his new song and how it feels different for him than his past solo music. Truly though there is SO MUCH more than I can get into here or then you can get from the UA highlights- I HIGHLY recommend actually watching at least parts of the video, also because the attempt to summarize so much erases all the charm and humor, of which there is much. If you don’t think you want to watch Liam’s interviews, it has to be because you aren’t watching Liam’s interviews, they’re delightful! Plus really if you care about 1D and want information about what it was like for any of them, listen to Liam, he’s the one who’s out there talking about it.

About Maya he said, that yes, he is now single, and “I’ve just been not been very good at relationships,” and “I’m a proper perfectionist… at the start of the relationship you put out this complete false character like I might as well go in in costume, I’m like putting out something that is not there... kind of like encompassing someone else’s life with your crap rather than just doing your thing and laying out your store from day one. That’s my biggest problem is that I feel like I don’t lay out my store... and then I’m annoyed when they don’t like what I like,” and “I think my problem is I struggle to be on my own sometimes... I dive in and out of relationships too quickly. I’ve not spent enough time on my own to relearn about myself.”

He laughs about his tendency to ask his manager things during interviews; “My fans think that Steve is doing something to me, they’re like liberty for Liam because he always looks to Steve, but that’s because I like him. It’s not because he’s harming me as a person. There’s like a hashtag Liberty for Liam because they think I’m some like prison child,” and he also said “my manager’s my best friend,” (and he’s said in the past he is a big support for him) and mentioned stuff they’d talked about recently around his therapeutic awakenings.

He talked about therapy being something you have to want to do and be ready to do rather than being pushed into, like getting sober, and says that this time around with his own therapy work he’s really felt that and thrown himself into it and he talked a lot about his relationship to therapy in connection with band days. “I mean one of our old managers went to therapy from being a manager of One Direction. So if you can imagine how that feels like the rest of us definitely need some.”

“We were young,” he said, “What I found was I didn’t know I was the boss until like a few months ago, I still don’t even feel like I am now, like I’m such a child. And everyone I work with now is older than me and wiser than me and I’m like what the hell am I doing here with these people. When we were 17 I thought the security guard was like in charge of me so I was like Can we leave the room? No? Oh ok then,” and “when we were in the band, the best way to secure us was just lock us in our rooms. And of course what’s in the room? Minibar. So at a certain point, I thought Well I’m gonna have a party for one and that just seemed to carry on throughout many years of my life... You know I spoke to somebody about this in child development as a teen, the one thing you need is freedom to make choices. That we could do anything we wanted it seemed from the outside but we were always locked in a room at night and then it would be car, hotel room, stage, sing, locked. So it’s like they pulled the dust cloth off, let us out for a minute, but then it’s back underneath again,” and “the day the band ended I was like thank the lord for that. And I know a lot of people are going to be mad with me for saying that, but I needed it to stop. It would kill me.” Anyway, he said, because it wouldn’t be Liam without an upbeat coda, “I don’t want any of this to get lost in translation. I’m not 100% moaning about my life... it’s had its ups and its downs, but I would rather talk about it and it’s therapeutic for me.”

And what about that exciting new song? Liam said, “We have a really cool song in the pipeline... one of the first ones I’ve actually written myself- with some other people, I didn’t write it by myself, but it’s the first one I’ve really liked. And I think I got so used used carting around other peoples songs and not embedding myself creatively in what I do because I was so scared to find out who I was,” and “I don’t really know how I would tour again. I really want to” [on discord today he said he would be touring next year] “I always said throughout my solo career I’d let my song book speak to me. And I don’t think my song book spoke to me to get off my ass. I only became a solo artist because I had Strip That Down. I wasn’t gonna do it, I was gonna leave it alone. I was like, I survived it once thank you very much- but I’m back in now. Because the song, I knew it was right. It felt right with that song, I hadn’t had that. This year, the song we have I feel really really great about. So I’d rather let the music do the talking than me come out and force it. We don’t need any more useless music in the world, it needs to mean something,” and he mentioned the new song on the discord a lot too, most notably picking out a long comment that thanked him for making the fan feel supported and safe and for “putting your heart in everything you do” and for his support of the LGBTQ community to respond to with, “I think you will really like the new song.”

A few other random bits, he said that he thinks there should be a system to make therapy available to musicians in the industry, “I think I’m definitely gonna get a dog because I need routine,” and “I recently started jujitsu,” yeah you and everyone else huh, so do him and Louis and Oli go to the same gym or ???, and he acknowledged that as an addict he may have just transferred that to working out “but there’s a lot worse things to be addicted to then looking after yourself” hmm but he does seem to say that he’s doing better around body image stuff; he talks about having put on weight during lockdown and seeing himself in the BAFTAS performance- “I saw myself... and I was like ‘oh my god I’ve completely let myself go in this’. And it was fine...I feel so much more secure in myself now.” Oh and that he’s written a comedic movie script “based around AA” and his experiences there, such as how “I had a really weird AA experience the first time that I went. My first experience was with Russell Brand.” LMAO yes! Cannot wait, bring on auteur Liam please! Anyway as if ALL THAT wasn’t enough he’s also dove into the lead up to his NFT release; he said “I'm almost ready to share my NFTs with you guys... Who wants to see them?” and posted a tiny preview that tells us its (their?) title for the first time- Lonely Bug.

Niall and Anne Marie perform on Jimmy Fallon tonight, and the hype is already a go! I guess it’s prerecorded, as we’re already seeing pictures from it; they’re singing to each other with the cute car from the video in the background. Niall signed on to a letter to Boris Johnson asking for changes to music streaming revenue rules and signed by 232 artists (including all the artists Johnson recently named as his favorites, haha). Zayn signed on to a Billboard petition to the US senate calling for gun safety laws. The bar Zayn got into the fight in front of posted “Zayn's a regular at Amsterdam Billiards and he is a true gentleman. On Thursday night he was confronted by an inebriated passer-by outside on the street and was called a homophobic slur. We support Zayn & condemn homophobia in the strongest terms!” And also PS omg again because it just isn’t going away: Harry’s beauty company is called Pleased As, his name is Harry Edward Styles so yes when listed last name first, as legal documents do, it spells SHE but it is not a “feminist abbreviation” (WHAT? even??) nor the name of the business.

[fernpost]

looking forwards

[link to ao3]

Angus McDonald, boy detective. Greatest detective, if you asked him. And if you asked most of his clients.

He could solve any case, any mystery or murder or missing persons case. He’s always able to find the truth.

He just struggles sometimes, when it comes to himself.

His own emotions are swirling masses of weird bubbly feelings . He does not like how hard it is to decipher his own feelings.

Deciphering people's feelings about him is often just as hard. He knows social cues. He’s studied them thoroughly, and knows why people say what when he’s asking them certain questions and what they’re hiding when they ask him to leave.

Working a case is easy.

He’s solved plenty of murders before. Those are easy. Child’s play! And Angus is not a child anymore. He’s twelve whole years old, and had the first birthday party he’s ever really enjoyed to celebrate with all his friends.

Sure, most of them were adults, but he’s always gotten along really well with adults.

And they’re his family, so it’s fine-

Well. They’re not really his family. He’s not blood related to them. He’s not sure he has any immediate family now that his grandpa is gone. He’s never asked Taako or Magnus or Merle of Kravitz or Killian or- or any of them if they consider him family.

They’re his friends. That’s fine. He’s perfectly content with that (he thinks. Again, his own emotions are confusing).

But that’s okay. Because he’s going to school soon. It’s kind of far away from where most of them live, though. Far from the home Taako, Lup, Barry, and Kravitz have been sharing. Where Angus has been staying.

Very far from where Magnus has been setting up his school. And a whole day's ride away from Killian and Carey’s home.

The school is three hours away from Angus’s ho- from Taako’s house, where Angus is staying.

He hasn't- he hasn’t told Taako he’s going to school yet. He doesn’t know how to tell him he’s going to need to move out because obviously he would never ask Taako to uproot his whole life- all of them to uproot their lives just for Angus to be able to attend school. Not when they finally got settled down.

He really doesn’t even need school, but when his parents passed away and he went to live with his grandpa he dropped out. And if he wants to go on to college (if Lucas is serious about the potential teaching job) he needs to at least graduate high school. He was almost done too, but his grandpa didn’t have a lot of money like his parents did, so he started solving more and more cases to help out.

His parents didn’t give his grandpa any of their money because they didn’t expect him to be around when they passed on- not that they were bad people! He doesn’t mean to make them sound bad. They weren’t bad. They weren’t the best, he guesses. They’re not as fun as Taako, or as warm as Lup, and didn’t give as many hugs and Magnus, and didn’t talk to him about science like Barry, or-

But they were nice. They just weren’t really into parenting. They still left their small fortune to him, he’s just not old enough for it.

He’s thinking of petitioning the banks and saying he’s perfectly independent to get the money so he can move out easier.

He wonders if Kravitz would help, because he’s really good at that type of stuff, and the bank workers would be much more likely to listen to an adult than him.

Being young had its perks when solving cases, but it sucked for his day-to-day life.

It also sucked when his stomach churned for no reason that he could deduce. He’s just sitting in the kitchen, watching Lup cook in her still-slightly-fresh body as she sings a funny folktale song (Barry is sitting next to him, and he’d leaned over when she’s started singing to tell him how she learned this song early on in a world that had no writing system, and the song was about a man who could never remember where he left his pants. Angus didn’t really get it, but Barry kept laughing and smiling like it was the funniest thing in the world. Angus was pretty sure Barry would laugh at anything Lup did as a joke, though. He didn’t need to be a great detective for that).

But despite how good the food smells, his stomach hurts really bad. He’s barely eaten today, so it can't be food poisoning. Not that he’s had that since moving in- the Taaco’s are wonderful cooks and he trusts anything they feed him implicitly.

He tunes out Lup as he thinks.

The stomach pains are probably anxiety. Kravitz was telling him how he used to get them all the time, so it’s possible it’s just that.

But he shouldn’t be anxious . He’s a big kid- he’s just waiting for Taako to get home so he can tell him he’s moving out.

He has already looked for an apartment. Once Lucas' Academy of Arcane Sciences is fully up and running, he should have a highschool diploma and will be able to move on campus to work on his own degree. And be a student teacher while he works on it. It’s very exciting! If he should be feeling any physical effects from his emotions, it should be excitement, not this. This gross conglomerate of mushy feelings he can’t piece together.

He hates this.

Lup is holding a spoon to him, and Angus snaps back to the present to hear her softly ask, “you okay, little dude?” He doesn’t like the look of concern on her face- she’s been through too much to have to worry herself with him (he can’t get the century out of his head, these people are so amazing and they just let him hang around them. He doesn’t know what he’s doing right and he’s scared he’s going to stop doing that and they’re not going to like him anymore).

“I’m fine, Miss Lup! Thank you for asking.” He folds his hands tighter in his lap as he smiles. Whatever is on the spoon smells great, but he’s not sure his stomach is up for it yet.

Lup continues to stare at him for another second before pushing the spoon a little closer, “if you say so. Now, tell me, how’s it taste?”

Angus shakes his head and pulls back, “my stomach isn’t feeling too good right now, I don’t want to infect the rest of the food if it’s contagious.”

A hand appears on his head and he jumps a little, still not used to the casual touch-language of the household, and Barry’s nasally voice joins the conversation. “You don’t feel hot. Want us to call Merle over and give you a check up?”

The spoon is back, “it’s a good soup, Ango. It shouldn’t upset your stomach, and I can just get a new spoon. Barry can call Merle while you give me pointers.”

“You don’t need to, it’s fine really.” He waves his hands at Barry before turning to Lup. “And I’m not sure what help I can be with the cooking, I haven’t improved much these past few months even with Taako walking me through those other recipes.”

Lup snorts, “you’re improving much faster than Barry ever did. And I haven’t been helping Kravitz much with it, but he’s worse than anyone I’ve ever met at cooking. You’re doing just fine.”

Angus straightens up, discomfort momentarily disregarded, “Mr. Kravitz hasn’t needed to eat or cook in a long time, so he’s forgotten a lot of the basics so it’s not fair to judge me against him.”

“Sure, sure.” Lup waves her free hand in the air, the other still holding the spoon. “Still, this spoon is staying in the air until you taste it.” She glances at Barry, “and don’t worry about bothering Merle, he’ll never admit it but he likes the excuse to come over. Barry will pick him up; gives him more practice on perfecting the portal spell.”

Angus frowns, but reaches out to take the spoon anyways, “you really don’t need to call him. I’m sure it’ll pass by tomorrow.”

A hand is now on his shoulder, and Angus glances over to make eye contact with Barry, who speaks. “I won’t call him tonight, but if you still feel bad tomorrow we’ll tell him, okay?”

“Okay.” He’s not going to tell him if his stomach still hurts tomorrow, because it shouldn’t. Because he’s going to tell Taako right when he gets home and there will be nothing making him anxious or sad or excited or whatever that will make his stomach hurt. Because he’s going to do it.

He punctuates the thought by sticking the spoon in his mouth. Lup has turned back around, a fresh spoon stirring the pot, so she doesn’t see Angus’s eyes widen, but she turns back to face him with a smile when he gasps.

“This is really good, Miss Lup! Thank you.”

“Anything missing from it?” She crosses her arms, a new spoon dangling from her fingers as she twirls it around. It feels like a test, and the stomach ache is back.

Maybe it is from anxiety, because he used to get them before really hard tests. But why is he anxious? Taako is most likely going to take the news well, because Angus will finally be out of his hair.

(But maybe he doesn’t want that. Maybe Taako being okay with him moving out would hurt. Maybe the thought of Taako not just being okay, but being excited at the thought of him moving out is making him sick with worry and sadness and-)

“I’m not sure what else. It tastes perfect as-is.” He can’t think about cooking anymore. “I’m going to read on the couch, if that’s alright.”

The twirling of the spoon pauses, before she gives him a smile he knows is a bit forced, “okay, but when Taako comes home complaining that something is missing from the soup we’re blaming Barry.”

“Hey!”

Angus slides from the stool, moving to the sink and placing the spoon in there before heading to the couch. The living room is open to the kitchen and dining room, and he can hear Lup puttering around in there as she and Barry speak quietly to each other.

He’s unsure if they’re talking about him, or just being polite because he said he was reading, but his stomach twists again anyways. He picks up his book from where he set it on the coffee table this morning, and tries to read- he really does.

But he can’t focus.

The words blur together as he stares down at them blankly. He’s so zoned-out he misses the sound of the door opening, and the ensuing whispering in the kitchen.

It’s only when a hand is on his shoulder does he notice someone else is in the room, and he almost jumps out of his skin. Turning his head quickly, he catches sight of the gaudy sequin coat Taako had bought a few months ago. He’s paired it with a pair of jeans with tassels, and Angus doesn’t know much about fashion, but he’s fairly sure that’s not a normal outfit combination.

“Lup said your stomach hurt? Did you eat the so-called muffins Barry made yesterday? Because I told him those were toxic for human consumption. Probably dwarven consumption as well.”

Angus shakes his head, eyes following Taako as he slips his coat off and throws it on the armchair. He’d taken one look at those burnt muffins and slid them behind the milk, hiding them to prevent anyone from eating them. The elf walks around the couch and sits on the opposite side as him, tucking his knees under him as he stares at him with those eyes that are far more observant than most people think.

“Uh-huh. I’m throwing them out anyway. Don’t want to risk it.”

Angus nods, fiddling with the pages of his book. He runs a finger down the edge, finding a temporary calm in the weird texture of the uneven edges. He’s wearing a crease into the sides, he knows, but that’s fine. His grandpa liked to talk about the beauty of a well-loved book.

He’d spent all night planning on what he was going to stay. He wants to make sure Taako knows he isn’t throwing his kindness back in his face, and that he is going to be able to do this mostly on his own. He doesn’t have many belongings, so the move itself would be pretty easy. There won’t be much for Taako to worry about. Angus has always been very self-reliant. He isn’t a pushover, and is fine taking care of himself. While living here has been nice, he’s fine going back to living like that.

A foot knocking against his knee gets his attention, and he glances over to Taako. The elf’s face is pinched, ears flicking back and forth.

It’s a weird expression to see directed at him. Taako speaks, “you with me, Agnes?”

He nods, eyes flitting away. The nickname is an endearment, something he figured out soon after he started living on the moonbase. Their story being projected into his mind only reinforced that knowledge; seeing how Taako interacted with the others (and how the others teased everyone as well) proves that Taako being mean normally shows he cares.

He states instead at the fireplace; it’s still kinda dirty because no one has wanted to clean it out from when Lup caused it to flare up during a particularly intense board game night (they banned board games when the fire was going after that, at least while Lup was in her lich form. Far too much magical energy waiting to be released).

“Angus. You sure you’re feeling okay?”

He doesn’t mean to flinch, but seeing a hand come towards his face after already being stressed all day caused him to react unfavorably.

The hand yanks itself away, and Angus forces himself to look over at Taako, apology already leaving. “Sorry, sir. I just didn’t expect it- I’m fine, really.” He almost says ‘I promise,’ but stops himself. He doesn’t like lying, and it wouldn’t have been a lie but it wouldn’t have been the full truth.

Taako doesn't seem to believe him anyways, as he squints at him. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Angus starts, “I’m not sick!”

“I know you’re not sick, but you’re acting all weird.” He wiggles his fingers, and it almost makes Angus laugh.

He takes a deep, steadying breath. It only makes his stomach clench even more. His face gets hot, and suddenly his throat is tight and he can’t- he can’t do it- he doesn’t want-

“I need to move out.” The words leave him at once, just barely slow enough to be comprehensible.

The soft conversation in the kitchen stops at once, though neither of them walk over to the couch. Taako is staring at him, face blank.

He finds himself beginning to ramble. He hates it, he’s normally more composed, but working a case is much, much easier than navigating people he cares about. “Mr. Miller offered me a position at his school once I graduate, and the school is on the other side of town. I can’t make the commute each day, it’s too far and the walk would be too much. So, I found a small place that’s cheap, and once I get access to my parents money they left me I’ll be fine on that front. And-”

“Miller? Lucas Miller?” Taako cuts him off. He hasn’t done that in a long while, and it shuts Angus up immediately.

“Yes? He’s opening his school, the Academy of Arcane Sciences.”

“And he wants you to teach there?”

Angus' face flushes, and he gets hot with indignation. “I’m very smart, sir. I am very qualified to teach, and it’s not a stretch that he would seek me out and-”

Taako puts his hands up. “Not what I was implying. You’re just young.” He glares off to the side, before pulling his crystal out. “Thought Miller was above hiring a child.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“How old are you, then?” Taako glances back over at him, eyebrows raised in that annoying way he gets when he thinks he’s made an excellent point. He’s typing without looking down, and Angus wants to know what he’s doing.

“I- that’s not what I meant.”

Taako leans back on the couch, looking back at his crystal. “You should be focused on being a kid, not teaching nerds at Lucas’s subpar school.”

The indignation that started when Taako brushed off what he’s been worrying about has been building and building. He clenches his hands into fists, letting the book drop to the floor as he stands and yells, “stop trying to make me have the childhood you wanted!”

He regrets it immediately, but can’t bring himself to look at Taako. The room is so, so quiet. It’s almost worse than if they yelled at him. He runs past the couch, dodging the hand that reaches out as he passes by Taako. He slips into the room he’s been staying in, closing the door and locking it behind him. He sits on the floor, back resting against his bed, and shoves his face into his knees, pulling them tightly into himself.

At least he made it easy, right? He’ll wait for Taako to cool down, finish packing his things, and leave.

He doesn’t even know why he said that. He knows Taako was just being nice, even if he phrased it poorly. He just wants him to be a kid because he knows what it’s like to not have a childhood. Angus had no reason to say that. He didn’t mean it.

The hot press of tears builds in his eyes and he forces them down. He has no right to cry when he was the one in the wrong.

Knowing Taako, Lup, and Barry are in there, talking about him, is almost as bad as the guilt. Not knowing what they’re saying is disquieting.

It doesn’t take long for a soft knocking on his door to fill the room. He says nothing, but looks up at it. He stares at the handle, checking it’s still locked.

“Angus, it’s Lup. Can I come in?”

He considers not answering. They’ve been good about not barging in before, when he makes it clear he wants to be alone. He doesn’t want to be alone, though. He’s just not sure he wants to have this conversation.

“Yeah.” He stands, unlocking the door and holding the handle. Breathes. Opens the door.

Ears tilted down low, Lup stands there with hands in a neutral position at her side. Gods, she’s being so aware of her movements right now so she doesn’t startle him. He turns, walks over to his desk, and stands by it. He’s now very aware of his backpack and small suitcase against the wall, half-packed. Not enough to be obvious, but enough so that when he told them he was moving he could do so quickly.

Lup is staring at it. She hesitates, then goes to sit on his bed. She doesn’t shut the door all the way, leaving it just barely cracked.

He hates being treated like this.

“We’re not mad.” She begins, and Angus can’t bring himself to look at her as she talks, staring instead at his bags. “Taako isn’t mad either. We’re just confused as to why you want to move out.”

Angus furrows his brow, glancing over to Lup for a second before retraining his eyes on his bags, “I told T- I said that it was too far for me to walk there each day.”

“Me and Barry have basically mastered rifts, we could bring you there and back you know. So could Kravitz.”

“I already thought about asking you to, but you’re called to go help the Raven Queen randomly, and I wouldn’t want to be stuck on campus.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I didn’t phrase it very well out there.” He forces himself to make eye contact, “I am very grateful for everything you all have provided me, and I’m not leaving because I’m unhappy or anything. I just know I’ll be fine on my own, and I really want to go to school.”

Lup purses her mouth, “I’m not going to argue that you aren’t responsible or that you couldn’t live on your own. But you are young, there’s no reason you should be teaching at this age.”

“I’m not though! I’m finishing high school, and then student teaching until I graduate from his school. I’ll just be helping the professors until I have the proper qualifications.” He clenches his hands, trying to keep himself calm. He doesn’t like when people don’t understand what he’s saying.

She takes in what he says, keeping her gaze steady. “Okay. That’s better. But, you still shouldn’t be living on your own, little dude.”

“I used to-”

She holds her hand up, “come on, this is a group conversation. The other two people living here should be here for this.” Angus casts an anxious glance at the door when she says that. She continues on, “before we go out there, though, we do need to talk about what you said.”

Panic fizzles through him again. “I know! I didn’t mean it, and I’m really, really sorry. I just got frustrated because he was patronizing me and I don’t like being treated like that. I’m very smart and capable- I’ve done- I’m just-” He feels his emotions begin to well up again, and it only makes him more upset. He knows he’s more mature than this. He’s caught numerous serial killers, solved murder cases, and helped so many people. He can keep up with serious adult conversations, as well as banter with everyone easily. He’s good at words. He hates getting sensitive like this.

“Hey, hey. Angus, it’s okay. Breathe.” She steps towards him, moving slowly to not startle him and he hates how he’s already shown that she needs to do that. “Taako was being rude when you spoke to him, no one is denying that. But what you said at the end was also pretty rude. And we understand needing to take a minute to ourselves, but we have to make sure we have hard conversations. You’re telling us you don’t want us to treat you like a child, and we are not going to baby you. But you are still very young, especially compared to us.” She closes the gap to him and rests a hand on his shoulder, kneeling down. “Being mature means hard conversations. Being nice means having harder conversations. All we want from you, Angus, is for you to be honest with us and listen to us when we want to be honest with you.” She removes her hand from his shoulder and spreads her arms wide, offering a hug.

If he says no, she won’t make a fuss. He knows this.

He crashes into her, smushing her face into her shoulder. Her arms tighten around him as she runs her hand through his hair. “Here’s the plan. We go out there, Taako apologizes to you for being an asshole, you apologize for snapping, and then we all talk about you moving out, okay?”

Pulling his head away from her shoulder, he nods. He knows if he tried to speak, he would devolve into tears. She smiles and pulls him back into the hug.

They stay there for another moment, before Angus pulls away. Lup stands and gestures for him to lead the way.

His stomach clenches again, but some it’s not as intense as it was a few minutes ago.

They walk down the short hallway, and find Taako and Barry sitting on the couch. Both are staring at them as they enter the room, and Angus finds his hands twisting into the hem of his shirt.

“I shouldn’t have said that, sir. I’m sorry.” Angus says it fast. He hopes it doesn’t sound dishonest, the way it tumbled out of his mouth, but he knows if he slowed down the tears would fall too and he doesn’t want that.

Taako moves to stand, but Angus watches as Barry’s hold on his hand keeps him on the couch. Taako, instead smiles. “It’s okay, Ango. I was being an ass first. Should have listened to you all the way instead of cutting you off. Taako’s better than that.”

Lup brushes past Angus, moving to sit on the armchair next to the couch. Angus stays where he is. “I am still moving, though.”

No one speaks for a moment, but all three of them look at each other. After a moment of silent conversation, the type born from living together for a long, long time, Taako speaks up. “Okay. We’ve been talking about getting a bigger house anyways. This one is too close to the city and when the others visit it’s far too crowded. We need more extra bedrooms.”

Angus blinks. Then blinks again. “What?”

Lup sighs. “That’s one way to bring it up. We’ve already been talking about it- there’s a chunk of land just outside of the east end of the city. It’s not far from the school we assume is the one you plan on attending. Magnus has already said he’ll help us fix up the house there.”

He is still wildly confused.

Barry gathers that, and he sighs, “we will all move. So you can be closer to your school.”

He starts shaking his head, “no, you guys just settled down, you don’t need to do that.”

“Do you really think you could make us do anything we don’t want to do?” Taako asks as he begins to walk over to Angus. He mimics the position Lup took earlier, squatting in front of him. “If you really don’t want to live with us, fine. But we had already been talking about getting a bigger place. This isn’t a sudden decision- if Krav wasn’t on some mission he could tell you the same thing. The house we were looking at was empty before the Hunger arrived, and it got fucked up even more during the fight, so the land there is cheap. So if you want to stay with us- and I’m not asking what you think we want, I’m asking what you want- then one of the rooms will be yours.”

The tears he’s been working so hard to hold back begin to fall, so he just nods quickly. He lets Taako pull him into a hug, “I’d- I like living with you. Are you- you sure?”

“When has Taako ever lied?”

Angus just laughs, and does so even harder when he hears a pillow thwack against the back of Taako’s head (it’s a common occurrence in this house).

He feels someone approach on the side, and their hug is yanked to the side, both of them stumbling as Lup pulls them towards her, and he glances up to see Barry hovers right beside them. Taako must see him too, “Come on, Barold. Looks like it’s hug time.”

It’s awkward, and not at all very comfortable, but it’s warm. Angus’s tears have dried up, and he’s about to pull away when the familiar zip of a portal being created precedes Kravitz’s voice.

“Oh, am I interrupting?”

Taako laughs, “just missing out on a group hug.”

“Come on,” Lup speaks up now, her voice coming from just behind Angus’s ear, “it’s a family hug.”

Angus barely has time to process that when Kravitz steps forward. He’s almost as awkward as Barry, but it’s nice.

They separate eventually, Lup heads back to the kitchen to finish the food, with Barry close behind. Kravitz gives Taako a hello kiss, the two of them sitting on the couch, and from their low tones Angus can tell Taako is giving him a quick rundown of… today.

Angus see’s his book was placed on the coffee table at some point, and sits on the armchair once he grabs it, pushing Taako's discarded jacket to the side. Opening it to where he left off, the page is bent with a large crease down the center, from when he dropped it on the floor. He reads for a minute, before Taako speaks up.

“Mending should get rid of that crease, if you like.” Taako says.

Angus just smiles and shakes his head. “It just proves it’s used.”

He shrugs, looking down at his crystal, and Kravitz nudges him. It causes Taako to huff and hold out the crystal. A flyer for a recreational soccer team is displayed.

Join the new Neverwinter recreational soccer league! Ages 10-14. Help your kids make new memories and friends- Create everlasting bonds!

Angus frowns, “what’s this?”

“Soccer team. Was looking for one in the area when we started looking for potential houses to move to. Planned on signing you up.”

Tears begin to well up in his eyes again, and Angus finds himself frustrated. Not with Taako, no, of course not. Not now, not with this. But with himself, and how emotional he’s being.

Because he’s been talking about Caleb Cleveland books at Taako for so long now, and he’d always assumed he’d only been tolerating it. But Caleb Cleveland was a part of a soccer team- it wasn’t even a big part of the books. Angus has probably only mentioned it once or twice. And yet, Taako specifically looked for a soccer team and-

“Thank you, Taako!” He grins, and the way Taako’s ears are flickering, he knows he’s embarrassed.

“Just thought you could use the exercise. You know, you can’t be running around solving crimes if you can’t run.”

The smile doesn’t leave his face as he snarks back, “but sir, you never do physical training and you saved the world.”

“I just transmute my legs to be strong and fast if I need it. Or get Magnus to carry me.”

He leans further onto Kravitz, who smiles. “Or he just calls me to pick him up.”

“Exactly!”

Snuggling back into his chair, Angus holds the book close to his chest, “thank you, really, sir.”

“Come on, little dude. We’ve been over this. The ‘sir’ thing is so formal.”

“Would you prefer me to call you ‘sappy bitch’?” He turns up his fake innocent charm, the one he uses often on cases, as he says it.

Kravitz bursts out laughing, and he can hear Barry and Lup in the kitchen do the same.

Taako flares up, pointing an accusing finger at him, “who taught you that kind of fucking language!”

“I’ve always known curse words!”

“Not in my house!” Taako stands, and Angus climbs out of the chair and starts running. He knows what will happen if Taako catches him, so he runs to Barry, calling out for help.

Barry, the traitor, only holds him still so Taako can grab him and ruffle his hair. He begins yelling at Barry, cursing his name, but it’s hard to get the words out through his laughter.

Kravitz is the one who saves him, pulling him out of their arms and holding him high in the air. “Do not assault the child, please.”

Taako steps towards Kravitz, “you heard what he called me, didn’t you?”

“And he was right.”

Taako’s affronted gasp is so loud, it must scratch at his throat as he begins coughing.

Angus is giggling, kicking his dangling feet lightly in the air.

Whatever Lup is pulling off the stove smells delicious, and he cannot wait to begin eating.

As they sit down, Taako looks over at him and says, "you know, you should be careful about accepting a teaching job at Lucas's lame school. Taako here is working on a much cooler idea, and he could use a smart kid like you, if you can pass the rigorous application process."

"What is it?" Angus asks, getting excited. He hasn't heard Taako talking about anything like this.

"Top secret."

Angus laughs, "it won't be for long!"

"You're pre-emptively fired, then."

"Wait-"

[someonewhowannadielol]

My name is 01001010 01001011 (Alien!Jungkook! x Human!Reader)

Summary: “So you’re a human?” The alien that looked and acted like a human asked. The only difference between him and you was that he had two upside down triangles starting from his jaw going down under his shirt. Also, he was huge. “I’m talking 8 foot tall” huge.

Warning: Daddy kink, Dirty talk, size kink, cunt slapping, Jungkook being rlly big, fingering, nipple sucking (?), Dom/sub themes, and Jungkook being a curious alien.

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

COVID-19 vs Human kind. Human kind was pretty much fucked. In front of your eyes, the world population went from a staggering 8 billion people to an exponentially low 1 million. Within two years. It was in October 2020, when scientist realized that instead of working on a vaccine, they needed to discover a place where those free from this deadly disease could live. Safely and peacefully.

Then, the people of Jubal, stepped in, and it was pure chaos. You still remember the day, 14thof December 2020. Everywhere; social media platforms, billboards, NASA’s speech, everything revolved around the message they sent us. They wanted to help us. Surprisingly, we knew nothing about them, but they knew everything about us. From our appearance to our food, cultures, languages, and what not. It low key creeped you out, not going to lie.

Nonetheless, we began building the transport link through their help and finally, one year later (pretty much the brink of our extinction), we were on our way to a new life.

Honestly, you had imagined them to look like- or well, to not look like how they looked. You’d expected Pokémons, or weird looking octopus, or even insects. But they looked just like you, expect they were way bigger in size.

After half a month or so, you had started to get used to the atmosphere. Almost similar to Earth, there were two sides to this planet, a much hotter plane, where the temperature never went below 104 Fahrenheit. You remember going there when you first arrived here, and oh god, you hated it. The temperature was too high for you; they didn’t know what ice cream was (how can they not know! You thought they knew everything, yet they’re unaware about one of the most popular desserts on Earth), you absolutely hated sweating and no amount of air conditioning could stop it, and the beach just looked out of place. The sand wasn’t the usual pale brown shade, instead it was just the color of the ocean itself – it adapted to the shade of the flowing water into a green-blue hue. Weird. Also, there was one sun in the morning, and three in the evening, gradually coming as the hours passed by.  

You had also noticed that all of them ate food at the same temperature. Nothing was cold like ice, or hot like a fresh pizza. The concept was new to them, and when you asked for the water to be cold at the first restaurant you went to – the waiter just looked lost. The poor soul, he was told to make the humans feel at home, so when he realized he couldn’t do what you asked to, you just felt really bad. Still, it was funny that a seven-foot tall man was scared of you being uncomfortable. It was cute, honestly.

Also, almost similar to Earth, the two places had different types of Jubals living there. The sunny side had more tan skinned people, with bright, blond hair and bright eyes. Whereas, the cold plane Jubals had fairer skin, darker hair and doe eyes. The one similarity being – they were huge as fuck. The average height was around seven foot for men, and around six foot for females. So, standing at a 5 foot 2 inches (almost three inches I swear!), you felt tiny (and intimidated sometimes, but you weren’t going to admit that.

After finalizing that you definitely didn’t want to live in the hotter part of the planet, you moved to Corellia, it was cold there but not in the way you expected it to be. In the morning, it was perfectly fine, the cold breeze was nothing short of comfortable, but as the evening came, it started to get cold to the point where you couldn’t bear to go outside after 6 PM. Sometimes, you think you might have underestimated the cold here at night, because the two beautiful moons brought such intense cold that you wouldn’t dare go out at night. They gifted you a cozy one bed apartment with a really good heating system, which you appreciated. Also, you had never been so glad that you brought the microwave from Earth, without it, you didn’t know what you would do.

Ever since you moved, you had pretty much been lonely, because of the lack of contact with humans. Most of them preferred to live in the hotter state, wanting to get tanned - and to fuck the surfer Jubal hotties. You still remember parting with your sister and her ranting about this Jubal she met who was so “dreamy” and “good at surfing”.

As usual, you were just trying to get used to the food here, thankfully, they had a smaller section of “human,” food that mostly consisted of cup noodles, vegetables, chicken and chocolates. Getting groceries was intimidating at first (honestly, it kind of still is), because everyone and everything was so large, and everyone just kept staring at you. You still haven’t interacted with a Jubal on your own, it’s not like you were scared – you were – but also you didn’t really know how to go up to one. Until now, the only two Jubals you’ve met were the grocery store cashier and the landlord. Sigh.

You were so happy when you saw the new addition of real, organic milk in the grocery aisle! Thank god you got a break from that horrid almond milk. It was just water pretending to be milk honestly, and whenever you poured it in your cereal, it felt like drowning them in water, yuck. But, as much as you could try, you just would not reach the goddamn shelf. Why did these Jubals have to be so tall! Why couldn’t they just make this aisle according to human size!

You heard someone shuffle behind, but paid no heed until you heard laughter burst and immediately looked back to see one of them laughing so hard, his body shook.

“You- you’re so tiny!” He barely managed to get that sentence out of him, since he couldn’t stop his outburst.  

Of course, you were offended.

“I’m actually not! You all are way too big!” You didn’t really know how to respond, because this was just so sudden.

“Hm, I don’t think so, you’re smaller than average earthlings. But it’s okay, because it’s adorable,” so, you were really surprised when you felt him behind you, reach up to the milk shelf and grab a container of it. Of course, being the dumb idiot you were, you suddenly turned around and had to face him again. You hadn’t noticed his physical features before, but now that you did. Holy shit.

He was tall (I know, it’s obvious by now), and had such, clear, fair skin. Two upside down triangles were on each side of his jaw and went down, disappearing under his coat. He looked at you with such doe, curious eyes, almost as if he was entertained by your mere presence.

“Here you go,” he handed you the container of milk – while still being really close (not that you minded it). Despite the irritatingly bright fluorescent store lighting, his hair shined, and looked so soft.

And after that, he just followed you around the store, and you honestly didn’t really know what to do.

“You know, I’ve been trying to find a human since a month now, but I’ve heard most of them moved to the Southern part. You should’ve done that too, because Corellia is too cold for you. You’re a little slow,”

And you’re a little piece of shit.

“But now I found you. You’re really adorable, the books didn’t tell me that. Ever since humankind moved here, I’ve been really studying Earth. Did you guys really had pink leaved trees? And forests? It must be so cool for so many trees to be in one place. I also really want to meet a lion,”

“You can’t just meet a lion,” you chuckled, he was weird, but somehow, it wasn’t awkward around him. He radiated this warm energy that you hadn’t seen in the Jubal people around you, and it was comforting, made you want to stay by his side – even if it meant answering his dumb questions.

“I can, you can’t. It would eat you, because you’re bite sized for it,” he continued to comment on your petite stature, and the worst part is that you couldn’t even defend yourself, especially when he kept towering over you.

“Hey! Stop making fun of me,” you tried to push him but the basket was too heavy for you, so you ended up just… awkwardly not being able to do it. Suddenly his – huge – hand swoops in and carries the heavy grocery basket as if it was nothing.

“You should’ve told me it was too heavy for you,” he sounded almost as if he was scolding you, and coo-ing at you at the same time. His eyebrows bunched up in frustration as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘how can I protect you if you won’t tell me what you need,’ but you couldn’t really make out what he said.

You were just pulled out of your thoughts when you heard him put something in your basket. Something that the Jubals ate, not humans.

Should I ask him to leave? No, that’s way too rude. Then, should I ask him why he’s following me?

“This is delicious, you should try it,” He spoke while continuing to look around the store, and put random items in your basket. There was a variation of their fruits (this one had a gradient of yellow and orange, with huge spikes coming out from the top), cans with God-knows-what inside (the one he put in your basket had cherry colored pentagons on it, and a juice bottle that contained neon green juice. You were not looking forward to drinking that.

“I don’t even know how to make all of this. What if I can’t eat it?” You were scared of most of these food items, you got sick easily, and didn’t know how to cope if you fell sick here. Without the medicines, you’d probably die.

“I’ll cook it for you if you want to,” He looked at you and smiled, “I know humans are fragile, so don’t worry, I made sure to get the ones which would be safe for you,” he said, while petting your hair, and smiling. You instantly fell in love with it, it wasn’t like the way he laughed at you earlier, but somehow, it was far more beautiful. His eyes crunched up into half-moons, cheeks being bunched up, he almost looked like the small bunny you had as a pet when you were younger. So. Cute.

“But I don’t even know your name, why would you do this for me?” You really were curious, why was a Jubal so interested in humans? So far, most of them have just maintained a distance from you.

“Because I want to keep you,” he looked at you, and the duality of his presence made you shiver. The small bunny smile morphed into a more serious face, his already dark brown eyes, turned into a slightly darker shade, giving you the chills.

“You can’t keep me,” you didn’t know how to fight this argument, you almost wanted to laugh and act as if you thought it was a joke, but you weren’t an idiot – and nor was he.

“I know, I can’t find the Earth word for it, I want to be with you, is what I mean,” he mumbled as he tried to find something in the cereal aisle.

The grocery trip was actually not as weird as you’d expect it to be. While you both didn’t know anything about each other, not even names (not that Jubals had actual names, they just talked through their minds?)

And as soon as you reached the cashier, before you could even take out your money, he nod, and paid the bill.

“Hey! I can pay for myself, you don’t have to do this!”  

Honestly, you didn’t really know what to say after he said, “I’m paying, now be a good baby and stand still,” where did he even learn to speak like that?

It was starting to get cold now, and after you exited the heated mall, it was visible that you shivered every time the cold brushed up against your figure. You should’ve worn the third sweater, sigh.

“So you’re really a human?” He said, as he carried your groceries and followed you, on your way to the apartment.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N,”

“How can you be a Y/N? You just said you were a human,” He asked, really confused. Were you pranking him? He learnt in (one of his many books about humans) that humans liked to prank each other for entertainment. He found the idea amusing, but right now he couldn’t decide whether you were pranking or joking.

He didn’t understand the difference between pranking and joking, either.

“I-  What? No, I mean I am a human, but my name is Y/N,” you were definitely amused at his seriousness, yet you couldn’t help but be intimidated by his tall figure. Also, you felt bad that he was holding all the groceries, so you decided to grab one of the bags from him.

“Y/N!” He stopped dead in his tracks after your fingers brushed against his, “I just remembered you can’t bear the cold after 6pm, so you have to wear many clothes to protect yourself. You’re already so cold,” he felt your hand, and his was so warm and felt right, intertwined in your hand. His hand was so huge, that it enveloped yours easily, and you could really notice the size difference now. 

He quickly transferred all the grocery bags into his left hand, and continued to give you his coat, and held your hand again, and it felt… nice. The fact that he smelled so good, helped too, you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but it was really comforting. 

You were quite used to the stares you got on the streets from other Jubals, and always thought that they would go away, but it’s been two weeks, yet they still continue to look at you up and down, so you finally asked him. You still didn’t know his name, and didn’t know whether you should ask him or not, was it insulting?

“Why does everyone keep staring at me?”

“Because you’re so cute,”

What. It was almost like you forgot how to breathe. How could he say that all of a sudden, out of the blue? Also, you actually could not breathe, because while he had long legs that lasted for days, you had much smaller legs and it was starting to get hard to keep up.

“Hey! Could you walk-” you took in a breath, wow, your stamina was really, uh, shitty, “could you walk a little slow?”

He looked back at you, and tilted his head almost as to ask ‘why?’, but understood quickly. Then, he flashed one of his cute smiles, again, the smile that did things to your heart that you hadn’t felt before.

“Do you want me to carry you?” He also had read previously that humans can get really tired, and sometimes not even have the strength to move on. Especially females, they were more fragile, and he could physically see that too, because you were just so small. The average height was supposed to be 5’4 or even 5’6 for human females around your age, but you seemed smaller than that. But you also didn’t seem to be a child because those under the age 18 were always with their parents right? He had almost started to doubt those textbooks he bought on humans.

“No, I can walk myself,” You tried to defend yourself, and started to mentally curse as to why you asked him to slow down.

You finally reached your apartment door. Honestly, you had thought that he would stop following you after you reached the apartment building… but he just continued to bring the groceries in.

Should you invite him in? Did you even clean your living space? You probably had your underwear lying all over the place, since now you lived alone and had no fear of someone else coming in your private space.

“Can I come in?”

Well, you didn’t want to say no to him, he’s been really nice so far, and you had to admit, picking up groceries was really hard to do, and you weren’t exactly physically active enough to carry all those bags that he easily carried in one hand.

He then walked himself to the door after putting the groceries in the kitchen. What really surprised you was how he looked back at you, not how he looked before. Before, he looked with warmth, and now. Now, he almost towered at you, reminding how much power he really has over you. He looked at your lips, and then back at your eyes and tilted his head.

“W-well, it was really nice to meet you,” you said trying to break the tension and to distract yourself from the obviously gorgeous man.

“I hope to see your cute face again soon,” he smiled one of his bunny smiles again, and kissed you on the cheek before disappearing under the stairs.

You curled yourself up in your blanket, and tried to sleep, but that Jubal kept intruding your thoughts. 

Would you get to see him again?

The next time you saw the cute Jubal from the grocery store was next week Saturday. On Earth, entertainment was in the form of movies, arcades and concerts. Similarly, here too, people had a theatre – instead of a movie on a projector, it was shown in 3D form, almost like a live performance, expect there were holographic figures.

You looked around, and by now you had taken into account that Jubal people weren’t afraid to show off their skin – even though it was crazy cold here, their bigger bodies could compensate by giving them more body heat. Unfortunately, your smaller stature couldn’t provide you with the same amount of heat and you always had to bundle up in three or even four layers to keep yourself from freezing or catching a cold.

You were watching a really heated up scene, and it was getting kind of… uncomfortable. While others were simply watching casually, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, you kept shuffling in your seat – so it was a pleasant surprise when you felt someone cover your eyes from behind you.

“Wha-” instinctively, you looked behind, and it was the same boy (or man?), from the grocery store.

“Hey,” again, you waved at him, almost as a form of habit, and he looked at you as if you did something quite weird. Without any questions, he tried to imitate you, but he was really stiff so you couldn’t help but let you a laugh.

“I know I didn’t introduce myself much better last time, but we don’t really have names. Still, I decided to get one for myself, because once I get a human, she should be able to call me something,”

Did he… did he mean that you were his human?

“Well, what did you settle for?”

“My name is 01001010 01001011. I thought it was really similar to the ones that humans have. Do you like it?” He asked with a proud grin, as his face lit up.

You tried to keep your laughter in, you really did but you when it did come out, you felt like wanting to die. His face crumpled up almost as if he was ashamed of his name as he increased the distance between the two of you.

Nice one, Y/N, you made the only person who cared enough for you sad.

“Hey, look, it’s a nice name, it’s just not very human-like,” you explained to him.

“It’s the binary code for a human name,”

Because of the constant conversation you both were immersed in, the Jubals beside you were starting to get annoyed – and while they didn’t say anything, probably because they didn’t want you to feel bad (you still did, for trying to ruin their experience for this live-movie thing), you decided to head out with him.

As you both walked in one of the main parks situated in the middle of Corellia state, he settled on a spot in the corner of the massive area.

“Would you like to give me a name?” he looked at your face with such intensity, that you couldn’t help but feel insecure and want to cover your face.

“Well, what did those binary numbers represent?” you really did want to help his get a name, after all, he was your first friend here.

“I want to be called JK, but my friends told me it was a ridiculous human name, because no one was named JK before. So I settled for its binary number. They approved of that,” his eyes shone of much when he talked about it, his long lashes were uprightly curved and you couldn’t help but swoon.

You fiddled with your sweater as you gave him suggestions, but none seemed to suit him.

“Jake? No,” you were starting to get frustrated at this, “Hm, maybe Jacob?” you shook your head again, unsatisfied.

He just simply continued to laugh at you being so serious, occasionally playing with hair and pressing a finger to your soft cheeks. When he commented on you being soft, you couldn’t help but blush (and when he compared you to one their red fruits, you couldn’t help but blush harder (you denied it, obviously)).

“Jungkook!” you remember reading that word in one of the books you had in high school literature.

“Jungkook? Do you like it, baby?” He played with your cheeks with happiness, he was happy that you were no longer frustrated or angry. Finally satisfied and happy. Of course, you blushed at the word of endearment, but didn’t tell him to not say it.

Oh. Well, after that, he just continued to ask you about humans, and more specifically about you. You were amused by most of his questions,

“What is sarcasm?”

“Why do you like pizza so much, when it’s detrimental for your health? You shouldn’t eat it, I’ll make good food for you,”

“How do you make stereotypes?”

“Why do people get cosmetic surgery?”

And each one of them seemed normal for a Jubal to ask until,

“Why do humans like cuddling?”  

At this point, you were quite tired, but still thought it would rude to ask him out, because he seemed really curious, every question coming right after you answer the last one.

“I guess, we just like to be touchy and close,” you said and you tried to suppress a yawn, but it just slipped.

“What was that? Was that a sigh? Or a yawn? Are you tired? That was so cute, do it again,”

“Just a little tired,” you said as you rested you head on his shoulder without realizing to do so. It was also getting really cold; the second moon had started to show up.

You both got up, and the walk back home was really pleasant. He kept cracking jokes and dancing on the pavement. You tried to imitate his dance, but your flow wasn’t as steady as his. How could someone dance so good like this, yet not be able to wave correctly? Your fingers intertwined again, and you leaned more into his body this time. You could barely reach his mid chest, that’s how tall he was. But somehow, you didn’t mind it because you both fit so perfectly – as if two parts of one puzzle.

As you reached the door of your apartment door again, you felt Deja-vu. He looked at your face, studying it carefully and looking back at your eyes, however instead of just looking at your lips this time, he leaned closer and looked back at you – almost as if asking for permission to kiss you. You nodded, and wow.

As his lips drew closer to yours, you could feel him cupping your face with both hands, one of them gradually descending to the back of your head as it found its place in your hair. They were incredibly soft, and almost overpowered you, because you didn’t expect this. As he slid his tongue and slowed himself, you found yourself wanting more, leaning towards him.

Before realizing that you needed to breathe, you started to choke, as he pulled himself back, and chuckled before saying, “Baby girl, take it slow, I’m all yours.”

“Want more,” is all you can say before leaning towards him, wanting to kiss him again. But unlucky for you, he just moved back before laughing again, and this time you pouted and slightly punched his chest.

“Now, you’re just being a brat, baby, you’ll get what I’ll give you, understand?” You could feel his breath fanning your face, and his eyes were no longer twinkling like they did, but instead were full of lust and an animalistic hunger.

‘’Jungkook, please,” you had never really been serious with boys in your high school, and so, this was the first time you had actually felt something down there. It was almost like someone – or Jungkook – lit a fire in your core, and you couldn’t help but just want more.

Fumbling hands opened the door to the apartment and you both tumbled in, messily but both of you didn’t care as you headed to your bedroom. On the way, he messily kissed your neck that made your knees buckle in a way that even walking was difficult.

He tossed you gently on your bed, that was way too big for the apartment, and ran his fingers through your hair, to you neck, and to your chest. He attacked your neck again, and started to form a pattern with his tongue as he pressed harder on some areas and trailed lighter on others.

You couldn’t help but let a whine escape your mouth when he left your neck unattended to take off your sweaters and cardigans till you were only in your undergarments and a see-through white dress.

“Fuck, baby girl, you’re so beautiful,” he said as he attacked your lips again, this time being harsher with his movements, as his tongue slipped in your mouth, doing wonders to his body.

“J-Jungkook, please,” you felt so much, so sudden, and even in this cold, the heat was too much for you – the heat inside you wanted to escape, but you didn’t know how to ask him.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you want,” his amused voice made it obvious as to what you wanted, but still he continued to tease you, torment you, put you on the edge, “Tell daddy what you want,”

You took in a gasp as he unbuckled your bra strap from behind, free-ing your breasts, and the very next second, tore your fragile dress.

“Hm, tell me baby girl,” he asked you once again, as he took in one of you nipples in his mouth, his tongue encircling your bud, as one of his hands pinched the other one.

“Jungkook I-” you gasped as you felt a slap on your clit, it wasn’t that harsh because he was being careful, and you were still in your panties – but it just turned you on more.

“Baby, you have to call me Daddy, do you understand?” he said as his free wrist kept putting pressure on the top of you panties, making you want to rip them off, so you could finally feel him where you wanted to.

“Yes,” you said, and whined after he took off his mouth from your nipple to look at you, and after a second you understood what you had to say, “Yes Daddy, I understand,”

“Such a good girl for me, so pretty,” he said as he kissed your cheek, and you just couldn’t stop blushing. He was so harsh, yet so gentle at the same time – and it made your head spin.

“Now, be a good baby, and tell Daddy what you want him to do to you,” he said as he neared your ear, “does baby want daddy to wreck her pussy?”

You couldn’t help but shiver before speaking, “I want Daddy to make me feel good,”

His fingers slowly trailed your body, making you moan and buckle your body up towards him. You looked at him, his ears tinged red, and his eyes were darker than before, he almost looked like a fallen angel. He chuckled, looking at you seem so helpless, so fragile.

You were so soft, so ethereal, like an angel from the sky and he was there to taint you, to make you his.

He teased you by playing with the band of your underwear, he put two fingers in your mouth and you instantly slicked them with your saliva, making obscene noises that blended in with your moans. Then he trailed those two fingers right above your covered clit, and you couldn’t help but buckle up again, wanting those two fingers inside of you.

“Be patient, princess,” and it felt like an eternity as he circled his tongue in your belly button and it so, so, so slowly trailed down and down, and he finally took off your panties with his teeth.

“So wet, baby, you’re making a mess,” he commented as he rubbed you with one finger, and using the other one to encircle your hole. He pushed it a little inside, easily as your slick helped him, before looking back at you to see if you were comfortable, and when he got the green light, he continued to push it entirely in, “Such a good baby for me, think you can handle Daddy’s cock?”

You nodded in exasperation, his finger was long and hit all the right spots, but you needed more. He added another finger, while rubbing your clit with more pressure and making circle patterns with his tongue below your belly button. You were so near, so so near, you just needed that one push off the edge.

“Well, you’re going to have to work for Daddy’s cock, baby, think you can take this monster?” He took out his finger with a pop, as soon as he felt you clench down on his finger.

“Daddy, f-fuck me, please,” you moaned, missing his touch. He looked just as a mess as you were, panting and taking off his shirt. You continued to admire his body, he didn’t look buff like gym rats, but instead he had a lean, slightly muscular body.

He continued to tease you by biting his lip and taking off his boxers extremely slowly. You whimpered when his cock was free against his stomach, and it was bigger than any you’ve been before while watching porn. It was even bigger than the dildo your friend bought as a joke for your birthday present, and you had started to doubt if he would fit inside of you.

“Suck Daddy if you want to cum, princess,” he groaned as he pumped himself a couple of times before you put your mouth on his head.

Not having any experience before, you didn’t really know how to start, but you gave little kitten licks at his head, and then took it in your heated mouth. He didn’t taste how you had imagined, instead it was more like a salted caramel toffee you had, it was delicious and you wanted more. You continued to take more, and more of him and suddenly gagged because you couldn’t take anymore – only to realize you had only taken half his dick in your mouth.

“Can’t handle more? I guess you’re too small for Daddy’s big cock, huh?”

The thought of his not fucking you was almost terrifying at this point and you continued to let your throat loose and tale more of him, until you felt his cock twitch, which made you moan. Tears spilled out as he fucked your throat, fast and hard. 

“Such a good, pretty baby for daddy, taking my cock so good, princess,” he groaned before pushing in it a couple of times and taking it out.

“Such a naughty baby, making Daddy almost cum,” he kissed you again, tasting his own cum, before dipping down again, “you need to be punished, huh?”

“Daddy, please t-touch me,” you whined, grabbing his hand and putting it in between your thighs, and surprisingly he slapped your inner thigh.

“Being such a bratty baby now, I guess I do need to punish you, you don’t deserve Daddy’s fingers,” he said trailing again lightly all over body, but stopping as soon as he neared where you needed him the most, “touch yourself,”

You were dumbfounded, but when you saw his serious look, you shyly dipped your finger into your heat, and circled them around, but even after two fingers, it just wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more.

“Daddy, please, I c-can’t, I need you,” you cried out while rubbing yourself between your legs, filled with your slick.

“Such a needy princess, always demanded Daddy,” he tsked before adding two fingers inside you, and as you gasped, “but Daddy adores you, so he’ll help his pretty little baby,”

You moaned, not holding back, as he pumped those fingers, and let his tongue work magic on your clit. He continuously pumped his fingers back and forth, while torturing your bud and the heat inside of you kept growing and before you realized it, “Jungkook, I’m going to cum!”

“Cum on my fingers, baby, go on,” his movements became more faster and you trembled under gaze, and unconsciously arched your back before letting yourself loose. It felt like heaven.

Even after this, you had been surprised to see that he didn’t stop and the stimulation was too much for you, as you tried to get away from him, but he held you in place, his wrist holding your pelvic in place.

Despite your whimpering and moans, he took his mouth to your perked up nipple again, and scissored his fingers, to prepare you for his cock. Then, he looked at you, cupped you face and kissed you again, this time more soft, as if you were a china doll, going to break at any given moment.

After letting his dick sit on your bud, he slowly let the head of his cock find your entrance and pushed it slightly. You let out a cry, he was too big for you, but he shushed you and pressed against your lips again before letting it enter little by little. You quickly grab his upper arm and clench it, the pain and pleasure were starting to combine again and you nodded, letting him know that it was okay to continue.

The raw emotion in his eyes was enough to let you go on, and when you were finally full, you looked down only to find you could only take half of him, he was just too big for you.

“Baby, fuck, you’re too tiny, can’t even take all of me,” he groaned before moving slowly, and then finally setting a pace that was safe, but unsatisfactory for you.

“J-Jungkook, f-fas-ter please,” you whined as he started becoming harsher, and his finger started abusing your bud again, and you couldn’t help but realize you were close again. This time, it felt more intense, more powerful.

He was so big, that you could feel him everywhere, it almost felt like he was ripping you apart, but the pleasure was almost overwhelming and the way his cock filled you up made you insatiable – you just wanted more, and more. You could feel your walls being pushed everything he buckled inside you, but he just did it so right.

“Baby, you’re so cute, gonna cum for Daddy?” he kissed your nipple and trailed up to your lips before diving a tongue into your moaning mouth. You nodded, and felt your second release come near.

“J-Jungkook, you feel so good,” you moaned as your walls clenched around his cock, and finally you gushed out, and trembled as you rode your orgasm. Simultaneously, he too, slammed his hips a couple times before cumming deep into you. As he took himself out, cum poured out of you, and he chuckled before taking it and spreading it over your face. Globs of cum covered your red cheeks and entered your mouth.

“You look so pretty with my cum on you face, keep it there until tomorrow morning,” he kissed your nose and coo-ed when you squirmed in embarrassment.

You could feel tugging and pulling when you felt someone wake you up and instinctively, you said, “Just five more minutes.”

“But you said that the last time,” Jungkook looked at you, his breathe fanning your face.

Too close, too close, too close. You looked at other way and tried to close your eyes.

“You’re so cute, like a small puppy,” he coo-ed at you, making your stomach feel things you’ve never felt before.

“I- I’m not like a puppy!” You tried to fight back in your sleep, but couldn’t help the blush forming on your cheeks and ears.

You could feel the dried up cum on your face, and wanted to wash it off, but feeling too sore to move.

“Can’t move, princess? Was Daddy’s cock too much for you, last night?” he coo-ed at you, mumbling about how cute you were, and how he wanted to baby you and make you his.

“I’m too sore, Kookie,” you whined into the pillow and were taken by surprise when he lifted you and carried you to the tub.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of my little human baby girl,” he said as he laid you in the lukewarm water and washed your body softly.

CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO

You were starting to feel more at home, even more than when you were at Earth.

A/N: That’s a wrap! Hope you like it. Go to master link for more!

[raibebe]

Soft core

Genre: Fluff(?) Words: 11,4 k holy shit this is insane Prompt: Jaehyun in his vampire bdsm outfit he wore in the Punch era but make it sfw Warnings: mentions of blood, brief mentions of member x member relationships, brief descriptions of a panic attack

A/N: This was written for Aimee who loves Jaehyun with her whole heart, happy birthday Aimee 💖 I hope you had an amazing day and like this little something. I know you deactivated but I already started writing this a month ago and I’ll post it anyways in the hope you’ll see this someday and a couple of others will enjoy this as well. I have mixed and matched their outfits and tattoos from both the concept photos and the live stages. Also I’m sorry Johnny, but you fit the role of the shameless flirt so well… Bonus points for anyone who spots all cameos. Special thanks to @burtonized​ who made me keep going with this and listened to all my complaints.

To say you were nervous before starting your first shift at your new job in a reasonably shady bar not too far from your apartment was an understatement. You seriously questioned your own sanity and why you had even applied for the job when you had seen the offer on the beat up wooden entrance door next to an old motorcycle license plate and a bright green neon sign that illuminated the word ‘open’ a couple of days ago. The blue haired man behind the bar had given you a questioning look after you had entered the bar because you couldn’t have looked any more out of place with your soft sweater between the old wooden interior and the leather the barman and a handful of customers were wearing. It had cost all of your courage and a reminder that you needed to find a job for the weekends to walk up to the bar to ask the barman about the job offer. He had asked you a couple of questions like whether you had already waited tables before, which you had (at a place that was lit far better than this one but how different would it be?). The man who had introduced himself as Kun and honestly seemed like a big softie on the inside despite his serious look (it had to be the intense eyebrows) had agreed to hire you on the spot because he had the offer up for a while and no one had come in to ask about it and he couldn’t keep bullying his apparently very chaotic roommates to keep covering the shifts on the busy weekends anymore.

That’s how you found yourself here, a couple of days later on a Friday night, staring at the wooden door yet again (now missing the job offer and not yet illuminated by the neon sign).You took a deep breath and pushed through the door of the bar, this time not looking as out of place as you had before, wearing black skinny jeans and a simple grey v-neck. Kun looked up from where he was wiping down the counter, shooting you a smile. Today he had styled his hair up, exposing his forehead and was wearing a black button up shirt with a bunch of white details that was missing quiet some buttons at the top. “You actually came,” he grinned, “You can put your jacket and bag into the back room.” He pointed to a door with the label ‘staff only’. “We’re opening in half an hour. I’ll introduce you to the others once they decide to arrive.” Nodding you rushed to put your stuff away. You were pleasantly surprised by how clean it was in the back. The beat up interior from the main room was nowhere to be found. So it really didn’t seem too bad if it was only shabby for aesthetic purposes.

After taking a couple of more deep breaths in front of the mirror in the staff room, you felt as prepared as you would ever be and emerged back into the main room of the bar. Next to Kun behind the counter was now another man, clad in the tightest pair of leather pants you had ever seen and a loose, see through black blouse, his long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, showing off a variety of piercings in his ears that were reflecting the low light of the neon signs. When both men noticed you, the blonde flashed you a bright smile and quickly wiped his fingers on the towel he had used to dry some glasses and held it out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Ten. Kun told me he had finally found someone willing to help us out on the weekends but he missed to tell me how cute you are. Don’t worry the customers are all nice and if anyone gives you any problems, weird stares or makes inappropriate comments, just tell me immediately and I’ll throw them out,” he introduced himself. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the image of this petite man throwing drunken men twice his size out of the bar. “Thank you,” you answered before introducing yourself as well. “Would you please wipe down the tables in the back?” Kun asked, handing you a cloth, “The other waiter should be here any minute, so he can walk you through the process.” “You’re all males working here?” You asked shyly while starting to wipe the tall round tables closest to the bar. “Honey, there’s not many woman brave enough to even set a foot in here even though about eighty percent of our regulars and hundred percent of our staff are big softies hiding behind leather jackets and tattoos,” Ten chirped, disappearing beneath the counter to check the tubes of the beer taps.

Speaking of the other staff, as if on queue the door slammed open to reveal a ridiculously tall man with the biggest brown eyes you had ever seen, his platinum hair swept back from his forehead,  a huge grin plastered on his face. “Yooo, the poster with the job offer is gone, did you finally find someone?” The man all but shouted, excitedly bouncing up and down on his way to the bar, shucking off his leather jacket and carelessly throwing it on one of the bar stools to reveal toned arms and a strong chest straining his short sleeved black shirt. “Xuxi, indoor voice please,” Kun groaned, massaging his temples. “Oh sorry,” the other man - Xuxi - answered, flashing Kun big puppy eyes. “We did find someone, please don’t scare her off,” Ten answered Xuxi’s initial question, emerging back from under the counter, smashing the door shut, which caused Kun to groan again. “That thing has a handle for a reason,” he sighed. “It keeps opening itself back up otherwise,” the smaller man shrugged, leaning against the now spotless counter, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Wait, her?” Xuxi asked, eyes wide in either excitement or amazement, “As in she? A girl?” “Yes, hello,” you quietly introduced yourself, stepping out from the corner where you had been cleaning the tabletops.

“Wow, you’re so pretty,” Xuxi said instead of a proper introduction when you walked over to where the three men were standing. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, tinting them a rosy color. Sighing, Kun took the dirty cloth from you and rinsed it in the sink. “This is Xuxi, the other waiter for tonight. As you might have noticed he doesn’t have much of a filter, but i swear he is harmless.” “Just call me Lucas at work, it’s easier,” the man in question grinned, not even bothering to correct Kun and extended a hand for you to shake (needless to say because he was unnecessary tall, his huge hand could almost cover your whole fist). “I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he beamed and even though he had just called you cute, he was definitely the cutest person currently in this room. “Thank you,” you murmured, a smile spreading on your lips because Xuxi’s grin was really infectious and you felt your anxiety disappearing.

In the remaining time before the bar would officially open, Xuxi taught you everything you needed to know. From their system and how you’d take the orders and which tables you would serve to special drinks that weren’t on the menu and what to do if any customers would give you trouble. “There’s probably not much to do for the first two hours or so”, Xuxi concluded, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair, making his muscles dance beneath his shirt, “Like that you can get used to it before it gets packed. Fridays are always busy and there’s a bunch of different people coming. Did any regulars call in before?” He asked the last question to the general direction of the bar. Flipping through a book next to the cash register, Ten nodded. “127 are coming in, they got that big table in the back but other than that, no one called.” “What’s 127?” You asked curiously because that was one of the tables you were supposed to serve. “They’re a group of guys our age, but I’m not really sure what exactly they are to be honest,” Xuxi laughed while fixing the belt that held his wallet before handing you your own one. “I think they are bikers,” Ten supplied, turning around to reorganizing the bottles behind the bar for the third time tonight, “At least some of them have bikes and they sure look the part. Have you seen Johnny’s new tattoo the other week, Xuxi? That must have hurt like hell.” “Yeah, I saw the post with his chestpiece on his Instagram. That man is ripped.” “Well, you’re one to talk,” you murmured under your breath, organizing the contents of the belt to your liking. Laughing out loud, Ten slapped Kun on the chest. “We need to keep her, I like her,” he giggled and Kun just shot you a slightly pained smile, rubbing where Ten’s hand had come down. “Oh come on, old man. I didn’t even hit that hard.” “Stop calling me old, I am literally just two months older than you,” Kun groaned, softly shaking a grinning Ten. Unbothered by the bickering of the two barmen, Xuxi called over from the door: “I’ll switch on the sign!”

Your anxiety came back at full force when the bar started to fill up one hour after it opened. Resisting the urge to hide behind the bar, you approached yet another group of shady looking men to take their orders. Like the other people you had served before, they gave you a weird look while looking up and down your frame once before asking if you were new here. You just nodded and smiled politely while writing down their orders before walking back to the bar where you took out one of the trays and put the note with the order on top so Ten or Kun could put the according drinks on top. “Here, have a little drink, the night is just beginning,” Ten grinned and pushed a glass into your hands before completing the order while somehow also dancing fluently to the music that was playing through the speakers now. You eyed the drink suspiciously, the deep orange color throwing you off a bit. “It’s not spiked, no need to worry,” Xuxi told you, suddenly appearing next to you, placing his own tray with empty glasses onto the counter, winking teasingly before grabbing a colorful bottle to pour a bunch of shots, so Ten and Kun could focus on the other, more complicated drinks on the orders. You drowned the sickly sweet drink quickly and put the glass next to the ones that needed to be rinsed. You mouthed Ten a ‘thank you’ when you picked up your order and he blew you an exaggerated kiss, making you giggle and feel a little more at ease. It was like he had known you were being nervous again.

After checking in with your other tables and earning a big tip from some truckers that actually had been really nice, you made your way back to the bar to help Kun with rinsing the glasses that had been piling up. “You remember those regulars that were coming in tonight?” the blue haired barman suddenly asked, “That’s them.” He nodded towards the door where a group of men were coming in. For a moment, your breath got caught in your throat because Ten hadn’t been wrong earlier when he said that those 127 guys looked like bikers. Honestly anyone of them could have been a model for the leather clothes they were wearing while standing in front of a Harley Davidson or thrashing something with a baseball bat. (Also was one of them wearing a metal harness beneath his leather vest?) “They’re all nice people, no need to worry,” Kun calmed you down, shooting you a reassuring smile before taking the beer glass from your hands that you had started to grip so hard, your knuckles were turning white. “How many are they?” You asked him curiously while eyeing the group as they made their way over to their designated table, greeting other regulars as well as Lucas (one of them was apparently just as incapable of having an indoor voice as him when he loudly yelled ‘Lucas’ before hugging the taller male tightly).

“Yooo, Johnny’s chestpiece looks even more sick in real life,” Lucas said with wide eyes when he came back to the bar. “Also he gave me 20 dollar so I would ask Haechan and Mark if they were even legal when they would order something alcoholic,” he grinned, “I’ll share if you do it.” “How am I supposed to know who to ask?” You asked because even though you were shy, 20 dollars were 20 dollars. “That’s the spirit,” Lucas grinned and threw an arm around your shoulders to turn you in the direction of the table where the men had sat down, not even trying to be subtle about it. “You see the one with the purple hair sitting next to the tall one with half his chest exposed? The purple haired one is Haechan and the tall one is Johnny. Mark is the one on the stool to the left, just ask Haechan for his age first, Mark will be the one to laugh the loudest,” he quickly explained. “You know them quite well,” you said, trying to fight the heat spreading across your cheeks because it didn’t happen any day that you were in such a close proximity to a handsome man like Lucas. “I went to school with Mark,” he shrugged, letting you go when Kun yelled that his order was ready.

Before walking up to their table you took another deep breath to calm your furiously beating heart, repeating in your head how no one had been mean to you yet and that all your coworkers kept on telling you how nice they were supposed to be. “Hi everyone,” you greeted them when you arrived at the table, “Have you already decided what you want to order?” Seeing the chaos that the group was already in, half of them probably didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the table. “Guys!” The pink haired man wearing the harness type thing scolded the others that were bickering in the back of the little booth on the couch. “I’m sorry, they usually behave better,” he smiled and his big eyes combined with his pink hair made him look like he came straight out of an animation. “I’m Taeyong by the way,” the pink haired man supplied, flashing you a genuine smile, “You’re new here, right? I haven’t seen you around before.” “Today is my first day,” you nodded, cheeks heating up under the gaze of the handsome man, nervously playing with your little notepad. “Let’s order, guys!” Taeyong said, the others slowly turning their attention towards you. How all of them were this handsome was beyond your imagination. Shyly you introduced yourself as their waiter for the night for the second time and asked for their orders. One after the other they either ordered plain beer or some really extraordinary cocktails that you had never heard of before. When the purple haired boy, Haechan, ordered his cocktail, you took a deep breath before putting on your best poker face. “Could I see your ID to check your age first?”

As soon as the words had left your lips, the whole table fell dead silent and the boy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. But before you could lose your courage to mutter an apology, the boy that had greeted Lucas loudly before, burst out in laughter, that the others minus Haechan quickly joined and even you couldn’t hold back the grin that spread over your face. “Now that I think about it, could I see yours as well?” You followed up and asked the dark haired boy with the infectious laugh, whose eyes immediately turned into saucers, his mouth wide open while the others couldn’t hold their laughs anymore, the purple haired boy joining in now. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, turning to the last man to order when they all had calmed down, using the napkins on the table to exaggeratedly wipe their tears. “What can I get you?” When the man with the dark hair that was elegantly swept back from his face turned towards you, you could swear that time stilled for a moment. His dark eyes that were accentuated with a bit of eyeshadow fixed yours and you were captivated, unable to look away. When your eyes dipped lower for a second you could see the black ink of a tattoo on the pale skin of his neck. He seemed familiar but you couldn’t quite tell why. Maybe you had seen him around on campus. But even then you should have been able to tell because that tattoo really wasn’t subtle at all. Briefly you were wondering if he could ever work a normal job with something like that. “I think I’ll just start with a beer as well,” he spoke softly, his voice a deep rumble, tearing you from your thoughts. After you had definitely stared at him for way too long than it would have been acceptable, you tore your gaze away from him, quickly scribbling down his order as well, repeating what you had written down for the others to confirm.

“Great, then I’ll be back in a bit with your drinks,” you smiled, after one of them had insisted that they should get a round of shots as well. “Can’t wait,” the tall one with the eagle tattoo on his chest said with a smirk on his lips, adding a cheesy wink that made you way more flustered than you would have liked. You quickly turned to hide your heated face, speed walking back over to the bar to put their order down. “Did you do it?” Lucas eagerly asked, bouncing up and down in excitement where he was helping to dry some glasses behind the counter. “Where’s my money?” You grinned, holding out your palm towards him. “Waaa, you really did it,” he grinned while bouncing up and down excitedly and you could barely hold in the urge to coo at him. He really did resemble an oversized puppy. You barely knew him for more than a couple of hours but he already had wiggled his way into your heart.

“Lucas, you didn’t tell us such a pretty girl would be serving us tonight,” a smooth male voice suddenly interrupted. When you turned around, the tall man from the 127 gang (Were they a gang? Did they do illegal stuff?) came walking up to the counter, leaning against the polished wood. “She’s new here, I didn’t know either,” Lucas pouted, already grabbing two shot glasses to put up on the bar top, putting the third one back down when you shook your head. You weren’t going to drink on your first day of work even though it seemed to be normal when you watched Lucas fill up the two glasses with a shady looking liquid from an unlabeled bottle he had grabbed from below the counter. Clinking their glasses together both men drowned their shots and while the tall biker didn’t even flinch, Lucas broke out into a whole body shiver, squeezing his eyes shut. “This stuff is really fucking disgusting,” he grimaced before refilling one of the shot glasses again, shoving it in front of the other man again, “I don’t know how Ten manages to make these concoctions.” Grinning, the man in question suddenly appeared and snatched the shot glass from below the other‘s fingers, drowning it himself. The blonde only grimaced a little. “I gotta say, I’ve made better stuff but also definitely worse. Lucas, we need a new keg of beer, can you please get one from the back, you’re so much stronger than I am,” Ten pouted, batting his lashes at Lucas and rubbing one of his hands over the other’s muscled arms. “Be nice to her,” Lucas told the man with the big tattoo on his chest and quickly disappeared to the back.

“I’m Johnny by the way,” he introduced himself, running a hand through his dark red hair. “So you’re the one who asked Lucas to embarrass your friends,” you remembered, your eyes getting caught on the intricate feathers of the eagle that spread its wings over Johnny’s broad chest. He smirked when your eyes came back up to meet his. “That would be me. You like the tattoo?” “It looks nice,” you mumbled, embarrassed at being caught staring, “It’s not something you see every day.” “I have some other ones that are pretty interesting as well,” he winked. “Su-Sure,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up for what must have been the millionth time this night. “You’re cute,” Johnny laughed, the sound bright and inviting, his eyes turning into little crescents. “What did you come over for? Did I miss something on the order?” You tried to move the conversation in a direction you were a little (a lot) more comfortable with. “I just thought I could put my muscles to use and help you carry our drinks, we ordered quite a lot. Also I still owe you money for pulling that prank on Mark and Haechan. Even though their faces were priceless.” “How old are they anyways?” You asked him because you didn’t actually ended up looking at their IDs and Haechan especially did seem quite young. Digging out his worn out wallet, Johnny fished out a twenty dollar bill and teasingly held it up between two fingers. “They’re both of age, don’t worry, they just have baby faces.”

Snatching the bill from his hands, you quickly stuffed it in your pocket. “Thank you,” you grinned, relieved that it really had just been a prank between friends. “How old are you then?” You heard yourself asking after you had glanced at the tray that Ten had been filling up, but a couple of glasses were still missing. The weird cocktails seemed to take quite some time to make (Why there was celery swimming in what looked like tomato juice was a mystery to you). “Let’s pretend I’m in my early twenties,” Johnny grinned, his long fingers playing with the cherries that were stuck to the rim of one of the cocktail glasses. “Pretend?” You were confused. He couldn’t be much older than you were. “It’s improper for old men like me to flirt with such pretty young girls after all,” he winked and stuck out his tongue. “You… You can’t be much older than me though,” you argued, trying to fight your shyness back down. But your furiously beating heart was betraying you. Luckily he couldn’t notice that from his place where he was still leaning against the counter, the long line of his body perfectly shown off; his legs seemed almost endlessly long in the heavy leather pants. Chuckling, he raked his eyes across your body in a similar way you must have seconds ago but you felt like you were burning up wherever he was looking. Within the blink of an eye he was in your personal space, crowding you against the bar. “I’m 25,” he breathed, “How long do you have to work today, honey?”

Before you could even think of an answer, Johnny was shoved backwards by another man dressed completely in black. You recognized him as one of the men from Johnny’s gang, the one with the neck tattoo that had seemed weirdly familiar to you. “Leave her alone, Johnny,” he drawled, his voice barely more than a growl, “There’s someone waiting for you outside.” After a moment of heavy eye contact between the two males, Johnny scoffed and threw you another smile. “See you later, darling,” he chirped before turning towards the exit. “I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable, he doesn’t know when to stop sometimes,” the handsome man spoke, his voice still deep but way less threatening. “It’s… It’s fine you wouldn’t have needed to step in like that,” you reassured him, “But thank you.” “Yeah, I don’t know, something just didn’t sit right with me when he crowded you like that. Especially when you’re new to this type of environment, it’s pretty different from your usual job.” “My usual job?” You asked, clearly confused, “Do we know each other?” “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you had recognized me,” the man’s eyes widened in surprise and he averted his gaze as if he was embarrassed. “I’m Jaehyun. You know, the dude who keeps killing his plants.” Now it was your turn to be surprised. “No way. You look so different.” “It’s the clothes, right?” Jaehyun was rubbing the intricate lines of ink on his neck, looking up from between his dark lashes, smiling shyly and now that his dimples were almost showing, you did finally recognize him.

He was somewhat of a regular customer at the flower shop you worked in during the week to help out the old lady who owned the shop, always coming in to buy new plants when he had managed to kill yet another one. Now in the heavy leather jacket with more buckles and straps than you could count, he looked so different than when he came to the shop, his dark hair fluffy so his bangs almost covered his eyes and wearing soft sweaters and jeans. You also somehow had never noticed the big tattoo that stretched around his neck.

You could remember the first time he came into the shop very vividly. It was just after your break that you had spent lazing around in the backyard of the shop in front of the little greenhouse, letting the sun shine onto your face, just basking in the moment for a bit, letting all your worries about money or upcoming exams melt away. The job at the little flower job didn’t pay very well because people these days bought less and less flowers and the old lady couldn’t afford to pay more but you couldn’t just leave her alone in the shop. You really enjoyed her presence and learning about the language of flowers and how to bind pretty bouquets. When the distant chirping of the old cuckoo clock in the shop announced the end of your break, you got up from your place and put your apron back on, so you wouldn’t accidentally dirty your clothes. You came back into the shop just in time to see the big load of new plants that was being delivered. Two boys were unloading a colorful truck while continuously bickering in what seemed to be Chinese about where to put the plants in the shop and on the sidewalk outside so people could still walk past. “Urgh, this sucks why did we let us get talked into helping out?” The one with green hair sighed after they had put the last plant down, handing the old lady the papers she had to sign that the shipment had arrived at her place. She chuckled while handing the papers back. “I’ve made some iced tea, have a little break, boys,” she smiled her kind, wrinkled smile at them, taking them to the little kitchen area in the back to pour each one of them a glass even though the smaller of them had declined her offer at least ten times while his green haired friend gladly took her invitation.

Smiling you reassured the old lady that you would rearrange the flowers and plants so you could fit them all into the shop and the small greenhouse in the back. Maybe her grandson would come in later to help you move the heavier plants. He always came to the shop to laze around without having his parents scold him and his grandmother could never say no to his charming smile that made any girl his age swoon. He had recently dyed his hair a soft pinkish shade and had been hanging around the shop a lot more because his parents weren’t quite fond of his style choices. You gently stroked the leaves of the little pink rose bushes (that had kind of reminded you of the boy in the first place) that seemed rather thirsty to you, making a mental note to water them lots after you had arranged them.

While rearranging the cut roses so you could fit the new bushes in between them, the little bell on the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. “I’ll be right over,” you said, detangling yourself from the bush you had tried to fit in the display window. “No need to hurry,” the customer answered with a deep voice. It wasn’t often that men visited your store. And most times they just wanted a quick, expensive looking bouquet to either impress a girl or to apologize to their wife. Putting on your best customer friendly smile, you walked over to where the man was eyeing some cherry tree bonsais, his broad back turned towards you. “How can I help you?” When the man turned around, he immediately politely smiled at you, making your heart beat pick up just a little. He was definitely attractive, you couldn’t deny that. His dark hair was unstyled and hung into his eyes a bit, covering his strong eyebrows that every girl would be envious over. He seemed young, about your age. The pale blue hoodie and the fluffy hair made him seem very soft and gentle despite his strong jawline and prominent cheekbones. “Well I’ve moved into a new space and it looks a little empty, so I thought some plants might be the way to fix that,” he explained, fiddling with the hem of his slightly oversized hoodie. “That’s a great idea,” you beamed, trying to seem reassuring since he seemed rather nervous, “Do you have anything special in mind?” “No, I really don’t but those roses you just put in the display window look very pretty, it’s what made me come in,” he said, motioning to where you had been fighting with the roses earlier. “Roses need a lot of attention though,” you warned him, walking over to where you had tucked the little bushes into a corner. “I have a lot of time and like a good challenge,” he answered, a grin tugging at his lips, a set of dimples just barely showing, “You’re bleeding by the way.” He added, gently touching your hand. Startled, you jerked away, heat licking at your cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, “But you should bandage that or it might get infected if something gets into the wound.” “Don’t worry, it’s not even that deep,” you concluded after examining the small cut on the back of your hand where you had lost the battle with one of the thorns. You quickly shot the man another smile that you hoped was reassuring.

“So do any of those roses look good to you?” “The pale orange ones look nice.” You couldn’t hold back a small giggle. “What’s so funny?” He asked, his beautiful brows drawn together in confusion. “The color is called peach,” you still giggled, grabbing the pot to show him the petals in the sunlight. “Well it is orange though,” he shrugged. “Men and colors,” you sighed dramatically but couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips, “You like them and want to try caring for them?” “Yeah, let’s try it. Anything I should look out for?” While walking up to the cash register and ringing him up, you briefly explained how to take care of the roses the best.

“I hope they brighten up your room a bit,” you smiled when he had paid. “The visit sure brightened up my day,” he replied smiling widely, the set of cute dimples reappearing on his cheeks. Before you could overcome your sudden shyness to reply anything, he had already wished you a good day and disappeared from the shop.  

After his visit, the man had crept back into your mind a couple of times. Every time you watered the little twin of the rose bush he had bought, it somehow reminded you of his sweet dimpled smile and his deep, soothing voice. You always scolded yourself when you noticed how you were spacing out, in fact watering the floor instead of the little rose bushes how you were supposed to. (You had been made fun of by a certain pink haired boy one too many times lately.) Your boss had just smiled knowingly and pressed a little bouquet with beautiful yellow Chrysanthemums in the middle, when you had closed up the shop, making your face heat up and furiously deny everything. But like always, the old lady knew you probably better than you knew yourself.

The second time the handsome stranger had visited the shop, he had been wearing a white turtle neck and a simple denim jacket, his hair pushed back with a dark blue hat. “Hello again,” he greeted you, gently smiling when he walked up to the counter where you were currently binding a bouquet with a couple of big purple hyacinths, “I’ll have a little look around. No need to hurry that.” Even though you tried to concentrate on arranging the flowers in the bouquet and picking smaller flowers that would look good with the big center piece, you kept glancing over to the man who was sniffing different flowers, quietly sneezing when he inhaled too deeply.

“Those are really pretty,” he said after he had not so subtly watched you work for a while from his place between the brightly colored geraniums while walking up to the counter. “The man who commissioned them paid a lot of money for them to look pretty,” you smiled, gently tucking smaller white flowers all around the big purple ones in the middle. “Does it mean anything? I’ve never seen this kind of flower,” he asked, seeming genuinely interested. “You’re interested in the language of flowers?” You asked, securely tying the bouquet together, placing them in a vase for the time being. “What languages would flowers speak?” The man asked, sounding genuinely confused. For a moment you could just stare at him, his dark brown eyes widened and his mouth slightly ajar, before you burst out in a fit of giggles. “Hey! What’s so funny?” He asked, trying to sound offended but he couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his lips. “They don’t speak any language, silly. The different types of flowers mean different things. I don’t know all of it but the owner of the shop has been teaching me some of it,” you explained to him. “Ooh, that makes a lot more sense,” he nodded, “What do those mean then?” “They’re hyacinths. The man told me he needed to apologize to his girlfriend. The purple ones stand for sorrow. I doubt she will notice though.” “Probably not,” he chuckled. “What did the rose mean I bought last time? The peach one?” “I’m not quite sure, I’ll ask my boss when she’s back. What brings you back here?” “Well,” he scratched the back of his head and averted his eyes, “I need a new plant, the rose was  kind of a lot more work than I thought it was.”

“Oh no.” You felt genuinely sad. You kind of had expected it not to go well but this was honestly a lot faster than you could have imagined. “I should have listened to you when you told me that they were a lot, I’m sorry,” he apologized, “But I really want to try to keep a plant alive. She looked really good for the time she was alive.” “She?” “Well I gave her a name.” You giggled again. “That’s really cute.” “Not as cute as you though.” It was suddenly so silent in the shop, the only noise the soft buzzing sound coming from the air-conditioning. You stared into the man’s eyes, expecting a his face to heat up in a similar fashion yours was, to see a blush creep up his face or his ears, but his face stayed perfectly pale, not a single blotch of color visible. But he had to be embarrassed as well if the way he was chewing on his lips was any sign. “I’m sorry, that just slipped,” he mumbled. “I… Shouldn’t you at least tell me your name before you start complimenting me like that?” You stuttered when you found your voice again. “Jaehyun,” he supplied, still awkwardly shuffling around, “It’s Jaehyun.” “Alright Jaehyun, let’s find you a new plant that’s not as easy to kill.

From that day onward Jaehyun came to the shop somewhat regularly, either announcing the death of yet another plant or telling you how they were on the brink of death and he didn’t know how it happened or what to do to save them. You were really close to either tell him to stick to bouquets or cacti but when you were being honest, you enjoyed his little visits. He’d stay longer and longer every time, telling you little stories about how he suspected that his roommates were secretly killing all the plants. In turn you told him about your boring life between your classes and your job. And sometimes you even taught him about the language of flowers while he was watching you put together a bouquet for yet another desperate boyfriend.

One visit in particular had stuck with you for some reason. Your whole day had just been bad: One of your professors had caught you slacking off in class and called you out in front of everyone, then at lunch a guy had run into you, making you drop half your food on the floor and then it had started to rain on your way to work. And if that wasn’t enough, the old lady hadn’t been feeling well because of the sudden change in weather and you had sent her off into her apartment that was above the shop, so she could rest. So now you were just alone in the shop, watching the people outside hurry past the shop with their umbrellas. When it was raining even less people were coming into the shop because you couldn’t put any plants outside that often lured people in. Sighing, you continued with the inventory that you had started out of boredom. Of course you also hadn’t brought any useful books, so you could have studied a little.

You must have been deep in thought, moping about how much this day sucked, that you didn’t hear the little bell on the door ringing. So when someone touched your arm to get your attention, you of course were startled and let out a small scream before you lost your balance on the stepladder that you had used to count the spare pots on a higher shelf. And if that wasn’t enough, you also pushed one of said pots down as well. But before you could even brace yourself for the fall, a strong arm had wrapped around you, saving you from crashing down onto the floor and possibly cracking your head open. When you opened your eyes, that you had screwed shut, you saw straight into Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes that were full of concern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he spoke softly and you could feel how his voice rumbled in his chest from how close he was holding you to his body. “It’s alright, it’s my fault anyways. I wasn’t paying attention,” you sighed, slowly realizing in what kind of situation you and Jaehyun were in right now. His face was so close to yours that you could almost count every single one of his long, dark eyelashes. You could even see the faintest little blush spreading over his cheeks and your own face immediately felt hot as well.

Jaehyun just smiled and released you from his grip, gently setting the pot he somehow had managed to catch with his other hand back onto the shelf. He really must have incredible reflexes and obviously the most charming smile you had ever seen. “Don’t blame yourself, you don’t look too good today,” he spoke softly. “Wow thanks,” you sarcastically said, sighing theatrically while running your hands through your hair in an attempt to smooth it out, but probably messing it up further than it already was. “Hard day?” You snorted. Hard was an understatement. It sucked. But a little voice in the back of your head whispered that now that Jaehyun had come to visit you in the shop, it would get better. “You look like you could use a hug,” he smiled and opened his arms invitingly.

Before you could even think twice about it, you wound your arms around his middle and squeezed him tightly, burying your face in the soft fabric of his cardigan that he wore over one of his many turtlenecks. Chuckling, he grabbed the fabric and stretched it around you, so you were basically wrapped up in it against his chest, before wrapping you up in his strong arms. You were drowning in his by now familiar scent and the way his chest steadily rose and fell with his breath made all stress from your body slowly dissolve. “If you keep holding me like this I will cry,” you mumbled, trying to untangle yourself from him. “I don’t mind, you know? Sometimes you just have to cry to let all the stress out,” he assured you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Don’t say that, I will ugly cry in your shirt,” you hiccupped, “I barely know you.” “Oh I think you know me a lot better than a lot of people,” he smiled, “It’s an old shirt anyways.” “Liar, I’ve never seen you wear this before.” “You’re keeping track?” He chuckled. “That’s not what I meant by that,” you mumbled, feeling shy suddenly because how could you not keep track when he just effortlessly looked infuriatingly good every time he walked into the shop.

“You feeling better now?” Jaehyun gently asked after you two had fallen silent, just basking in each other’s presence. He gently tilted your head back from where you had buried it in his neck, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah,” you breathed, captivated by him. You had never noticed the tiny mole he had on one of his cheeks but you found it really endearing.   “Good,” he smiled, “I brought you coffee from the shop next door.” He motioned to the two cups he had placed on the counter next to the cash register. “You have a heart of gold Jaehyun,” you confessed, a smile slowly spreading on your lips and your heartbeat picking up. You kept the thought that he probably would also make the perfect boyfriend, to yourself. Not that it would matter, you were sure he didn’t see you like that. He just played it off, laughing awkwardly like he always did when he was embarrassed. (Coming to think of it, you really seemed to know him better than you had initially thought.) “Let’s drink it before it gets cold and you can tell me more about your day,” he offered and slowly loosened his arms around you. “Can you tell me about yours instead?” You asked with a small voice. “I’d rather forget all of this stupid day before you walked in here.” “Of course, darling,” he breathed. Your heart skipped a beat before doubling its pace when the pet name rolled of his tongue just like that. Maybe there was just the slightest little chance, he might consider you more than just the friend that worked in the flower shop that he had to visit to get advice on how to not kill his plants. Smiling you loosened your grip on him as well and you two sat down on the counter, dangling your legs and sipping the slightly cold coffee while you listened to Jaehyun ramble about the mess that were his flatmates. Until this day you hadn’t figured out how many people he actually lived with but you couldn’t help but smile at the little stories he told you. And even when he stopped talking, you just enjoyed the silence while watching the people outside. And maybe it was just your imagination but the umbrellas outside seemed just a little brighter with your head resting on Jaehyun’s broad shoulder.

“I’ve never noticed your whole tattoo thing that’s going on,” you said, motioning around your own neck when you came back from your fond memories of Jaehyun. “Yeah, I try to not let it show as much usually,” he replied, almost nervously playing with the collar of his leather jacket.   “Did it hurt a lot when you got it?” “Yeah, the skin is kind of tender around your neck,” he answered, his gaze not meeting your eyes but fixating a point right behind you. “You get that question a lot don’t you?” you gently asked, fingers itching to reach out to touch him. “Yeah, it’s all people talk about when they see it,” he shrugged, “I’m used to it by now.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “It’s fine,” Jaehyun reassured you, gently grazing his fingers over your exposed forearm, making goose bumps break out over your skin. “Yes, it did hurt. No I don’t regret it. Yes I probably can’t work a normal job if I’m not wearing a turtleneck. No, I didn’t get it in prison. It was done in a perfectly sanitary tattoo shop by a professional artist. No, I’m not a criminal”, he quickly addressed every typical question he apparently got about the tattoo in a single breath, a smile spreading on his lips, making his dimples appear and your heart beat faster.

“Glad to know I haven’t been talking to a criminal over the past few weeks even though you did kill an unholy amount of plants,” you giggled, checking again if the order was ready only to find Ten engrossed in a conversation with a group of young men that were sitting at the bar, his work forgotten. “Well I guess I am guilty of that,” Jaehyun pouted and it was weirdly endearing seeing him act playful like that with his dark and intimidating clothing. “So you’re not a criminal but a biker?” “Is that what you think our group is?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “That’s what everyone told me at least. And you do look the part.” “A couple of us do have bikes, but I don’t think that justifies the title. We’re just a,” he bit his tongue for a bit, “We’re just friends. Friends who like to dress in a lot of leather and black clothing.”

It seemed to be a somewhat touchy subject so you decided to not push any further. “You don’t need to explain it to me,” you smiled reassuringly, quickly squeezing his cold hand. “Jaehyun, stop flirting with my best waitress,” Kun teased, adding the little shot glasses to the second tray that completed the order. “I wasn’t flirting, I-“ but Jaehyun didn’t complete his apology when Kun shot him a knowing look and your face heated up on his behalf because Jaehyun didn’t blush like ever. “Stop making excuses and help her carry all this back to the table,” the barman grinned, returning to his work by pulling Ten back by the hairs on his neck from where he was still talking to the handsome customers sitting at the bar. “I would appreciate some help, that’s what Johnny came over for as well,” you tried to push past the awkwardness. “Like hell he was,” Jaehyun grumbled, grabbing the one of the trays maybe a tad too forceful than he needed to, the drinks almost spilling over. “Don’t be angry with him, he was being nice,” you consoled him, gently petting his leather clad arm (wasn’t he warm in that thick jacket?). “I saw just how nice he was being,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders, “He’s such a goddamn flirt.” “Nothing happened Jaehyun,” you tried one last time, looking into his dark eyes, getting lost in the seemingly bottomless obsidian.

Only the thud of the heavy entrance door made you snap out of it and you quickly turned to grab the second tray. You hadn’t even noticed how you had gravitated towards Jaehyun, it was like his eyes had hypnotized you. “Need another pair of helping hands?” A familiar voice asked and Johnny strode over towards you two again, now with an energetic bounce in his step, his red lips curved into a smile. “We’ve got it,” Jaehyun answered, scrunching his nose as if he had smelled something bad before taking a deep breath. “Don’t wait too long, Jaehyun,” the taller said, his tone suddenly stern and his brows furrowed. “I can handle it, Johnny,” Jaehyun gritted out, shoving past the taller man to make his way over to the table where their friends were still waiting for their drinks. Sighing, you followed him back to the table. It was weird how different he was behaving with his friends around. You had never expected to meet him in any place outside of your job at the flower shop and much less in a place like this. The soft man who liked to wear denim jackets seemed to be buried beneath the heavy leather jacket.

“Here’s your drinks,” you smiled when you put the tray down to distribute the drinks. “You’re not drinking with us?” A blonde man with a scratch in his eyebrow asked when everyone had picked up their shot glasses. “It’s my first day, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you politely declined his offer. “I’m sure Ten and Kun won’t mind,” he grinned, lifting up his own glass to hand it over to you. “She said no, didn’t you hear, Yuta?” Jaehyun growled and shot his friend a dark look. Unfazed by his behavior, the blonde - Yuta - shrugged his shoulders before drowning his shot himself, not grimacing in the slightest even though the liquid had a questionable amount of alcohol in it, judging by the numbers that had been printed on the label. “But I’m sure we can treat you to something else,” he spoke, before shifting in his seat so his poorly buttoned sleeveless shirt fell open even further, revealing smooth skin that stretched over lean muscles and a promise of something metal hidden beneath. “I-“, you stuttered. What were you supposed to reply to something like that? “You’re shameless,” one of his dark haired friends chuckled, a silver chain glistening in the light when he shook his head. “It’s called confidence,” Yuta defeated himself. “Still shameless,” another one agreed, a grin on his face. “He hasn’t had a good lay in a while, don’t mind him,” Taeyong cut in, shooting you a reassuring smile. “Certainly not because I didn’t had any offers, I’m just picky,” Yuta tried to defend himself, looking scandalized. You just giggled when the other’s started picking on him. You noticed that Jaehyun didn’t join in but his posture was more relaxed than it had been before. You really wanted to thank him for defending your choice to not drink but now didn’t seem appropriate. Silently you collected the now empty shot glasses and picked the trays back up. “I’ll be back to check in with you later then,” you smiled before walking back to the counter after checking in with a couple of other tables.

The rest of the night went down in a blur safe for the one occasion where the slender Ten indeed threw out one of the customers that couldn’t hold his liquor anymore and had fallen when he had tried to walk over to the bar to order more because Lucas had already refused to bring him any more drinks. The times when you had checked in on the 127 table, Yuta had still flirted with you only to be either shot down by Jaehyun or Taeyong. You had also noticed that over the course of the night one or two of them would always leave the bar for a couple of minutes before coming back inside with a new energy and a faint blush on their cheeks. You didn’t know what they did out there but you really hoped they didn’t do drugs or anything like that. They didn’t seem as intoxicated as the other customers no matter how much they ordered. If anything Mark was getting giggly after he had come back inside but that was pretty much everything. They all must have incredible tolerance for alcohol.

When the night died down and more and more customers were leaving, Kun waved you over to tell you that you had been a great help and he would be more than happy to see you again tomorrow for your next shift. You had beamed at him and promised to do your best. “I’m sure you will. Thank you for today, I think Lucas and I can handle the remaining customers,” he told you. “What’s with Ten?” You asked. You hadn’t seen him in a while. Kun just sighed and motioned to the 127 table where Ten comfortably sat on Johnny’s lap, the taller carding through the blonde’s hair that he had freed from the little ponytail. “Are they a thing?” You were confused. Johnny hadn’t been subtle about his flirting earlier. “No one really knows,” Kun groaned, suddenly seeming very irritated, “It’s been happening more lately but last week he went home with Taeyong as far as I remember.” “Oh…” “Don’t think about it too much. I want to say that he knows what he’s doing but that would mean that he’s actually using his brain.” Somehow you thought that he sounded sad. “Just tell Ten that you like him, Kun,” Lucas groaned, running a hand through his by now messy platinum hair. “I don’t like him,” the elder gritted out, violently cleaning glasses and slamming them onto a rack to dry. “Sure and I’ve never thought about making out with any of your roommates,” Lucas teased him. “You have what?” “Never mind I said that,” Lucas mumbled, his ears turning red, before he made a beeline to one of his tables.

You chuckled quietly. “I think he’s fond of you as well,” you softly spoke after Kun had thrown another longing look at Ten who was busy admiring the eagle tattoo on Johnny’s chest. “You don’t need to console me, but I appreciate it,” he smiled but it didn’t quiet reach his eyes, “I came to accept him how he is.” “You should at least try to shoot you shout though, don’t you think?” You tried again, stepping closer to the barman to help him clean the last glasses. He sighed deeply. “I’ve known Ten for too long now, I know he won’t suddenly become monogamous just because I tell him that I might not dislike him as much as I sometimes say.” “You can never know for sure, people do crazy stuff because of love,” a deep voice joined the conversation and Jaehyun sat down on the barstool in front of Kun and you, throwing you a quick smile. “He’s right,” you smiled, briefly squeezing Kun’s hand. “If I say that I’ll think about it, will you leave it alone for now?” You eagerly nodded, looking up at Jaehyun to see if he was doing the same. Instead a smirk played on his lips. “If you give me my drinks for free, I’ll even tell Johnny to not take Ten home tonight,” he grinned, holding up his card between two fingers. “You’re paying for everyone?” Kun just gritted out, snatching the card from the other’s fingers. Jaehyun’s grin widened before he nodded. “Isn’t that going to be a lot of money?” You asked worriedly. You had never asked but assumed Jaehyun must be a student like you, so paying the whole bill for nine men (well eight if Kun was giving Jaehyun his own drinks for free) was a lot. “I lost at rock paper scissors,” he shrugged, “Are you done with your shift?”

“She is,” Kun cut in, smacking the credit card back onto the bartop, “Tell Johnny to send him home, I’m not feeding his cats again because they’re screaming for food.” “Sure. That’s the only reason,” Jaehyun joked, pocketing his card with a grin. Kun didn’t answer, instead leaving you two alone to wipe some empty tables. “Are you going home alone?” “It’s not far from here,” you reassured the dark haired man. “I’ll walk you. You shouldn’t go alone this late.” “Only if it’s not a bother for you…” “Keeping you safe is never a bother for me,” he smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you barely suppressed a shiver from how cold his hands were against your heated face. “I’ll tell the other’s not to wait for me and will wait outside for you,” he softly spoke before turning to walk out the door where his friends apparently had already left.

You quickly gathered your things and sorted out your tips from the rest of the money, putting everything back into the place that Lucas had shown you before disappearing into the staff room to stuff the money into your designated tip jar, so Lucas and you could share your tips with Ten and Kun. While you were quickly trying to fix your hair in the small mirror a very grumpy looking Ten joined you, groaning loudly. You had to suppress your smile. Jaehyun really had convinced Johnny to not take Ten home. “Men are trash, honey,” the blonde suddenly spoke, “Don’t fall for any of them.” “Did you get dumped?” You tried to act like you didn’t exactly knew what must have happened. “Can’t get dumped if you aren’t dating,” Ten chirped, smoothing out a wrinkle in his silky blouse, “But something similar.” “I’m sorry.” “No need to be darling, I’ll just annoy Kun a little more, maybe he’ll actually pop a vein these days,” he giggled mischievously. “Be nice to him, he seems like an actual sweetheart,” you said while slipping on your jacket and picking up your bag. “He is, darling. But where’s the fun in that?” Ten held the door open for you and followed you back to the main room. “Be safe on your way home.” “Jaehyun is waiting outside for me,” you admitted, suddenly feeling shy under Ten’s intense gaze. “So that’s why Johnny wouldn’t take me with him,” he grinned. “No, no that’s not it. He just offered to walk me home,” you stuttered to explain yourself. It wasn’t like what Ten thought it was, right? Oh god. Not that Jaehyun was expecting anything now. He just had asked to walk you home though. Was it a code word for something you didn’t know? “I’m sure he only has the most noble motives,” the barkeeper snickered, “Go, don’t let prince charming wait for too long.” With that he waved you off, walking over to where Kun was wiping a table to drape his body over the other’s back, probably complaining about being dumped. But Kun didn’t seem to mind a whole lot, judging by the smile that tugged on the corners of his lips.

After you had barely escaped Xuxi’s suffocating goodbye hug, you stepped outside into the cold night, taking a deep breath. It was quiet for a Friday night but that might have just been the time. Worried you looked around when you couldn’t see Jaehyun’s broad figure anywhere. Did he ditch you? That didn’t seem like him. Curious you looked into the little ally beside the bar where the dumpsters were. At first you couldn’t make out anything in the dark but when your eyes had adjusted, you could make out a figure, no two, in the dark. One of them was wearing a familiar leather jacket with way too many buckles and straps to be convenient. The man was clinging to the second, unmoving figure and the whole scene made Goosebumps break out all over your body.

“J-Jaehyun?” you stuttered, your bag falling from your shoulder, landing on the concrete with a soft thud. As if he was electrocuted, the man with the dark clothes shoved the limp body he was holding onto just a second ago away from him, but no sound left the other man’s lips, nor did his facial expression change in any way. “I can explain this,” Jaehyun said, his lips a deep red and smeared with what seemed to be blood and eyes wide, tinted a bright crimson. You felt a shiver run down your spine, the scream that had been stuck in your throat threatening to spill now. But before it could rip free, a palm was pressed over your lips and your body collided with Jaehyun’s solid frame. “Please don’t scream,” he whispered in your ear which made all the hairs on your neck stand up. What was happening? Why was there blood on Jaehyun? Has his eyes changed color? How did he get across to you within the blink of an eye? What was with the other person? In a panic, your eyes scanned the alleyway and another muffled scream ripped from your throat when you saw that the man was still unmoving even though he was bleeding from a wound in his neck. “Please,” Jaehyun begged, his voice sounding strained, “Let me explain this, don’t hate me.” Being pressed so close to him, you couldn’t help but notice that his chest wasn’t moving in the slightest like it should if he was breathing. What was happening? Panic began to rise inside you and you felt like you were suffocating, your lungs not getting enough oxygen with Jaehyun’s palm pressed over your mouth. Panicking, you grabbed his wrist and let your nails dig into his skin, but the skin didn’t break. Desperate, you tried to get more air into your lungs, meeting his eyes in a silent plea. “Please don’t scream,” Jaehyun repeated firmly before he slowly freed your mouth, but kept holding you close.

You heaved a couple of heavy breaths, feeling the panic slowly disappear but your heart kept beating furiously, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you dizzy. “Let me take care of this and I’ll explain everything, I promise,” Jaehyun spoke once your breathing had somewhat evened out. “I’ll release you now, don’t run away.” Your voice was still lost somewhere, so you just nodded. After confirming with a nod himself, he slowly uncurled from you and walked over to the other man who was still in a daze, staring straight ahead. “You will walk home now and not remember anything that happened from the moment you saw me approach you,” Jaehyun spoke to him, looking into his eyes intensely and if your own eyes weren’t playing a trick on you, Jaehyun’s eyes had turned a bright crimson color. He leaned into the other man again where his neck was still bleeding and when the man turned to leave and walk away, the area was clean. Instead Jaehyun’s lips were smeared with blood that he quickly wiped into his shirt. “What the fuck, Jaehyun?” You whispered, your voice sounding raw as if you hadn’t spoken in hours.

“I can explain this,” he repeated again, turning his palms towards you in surrender when he walked back over. “How can you explain this? You- That- That man was straight up hypnotized and behaved like an actual puppet. And that blood. This is crazy. I’m dreaming. That’s it right? Or someone must have slipped me something in the bar and I’m tripping right now. Because this looks an awful lot like you just sucked that guy’s blood like you’re a vampire and that’s crazy. Vampires aren’t real. And I’ve seen you walk around in the middle of the day. But then again, your hands are always cold and I couldn’t even scratch you with my nails and you have mad reflexes,” you started to spiral, the words just falling from your lips. “Hey, take a breath. A deep breath, here,” Jaehyun softly spoke, gently taking your hands and pressing the palms on his chest, taking a deep breath himself.   Even though you tried to breathe with him to calm down, you couldn’t help but notice that his fingers weren’t as cold as they had been before and that you couldn’t feel his heartbeat despite the fact that your palm was sitting right over his heart, just separated by his thin black shirt from the skin. “You… You don’t have a heartbeat,” you whispered, your eyes searching his that were a perfectly normal deep brown shade now while you pressed your palms down on his chest harder. “I don’t,” he spoke carefully, scanning your features for any changes, “I haven’t had one for a while.” “You aren’t breathing right now.” “I don’t need to. I keep forgetting.” “You… You’re forgetting to breathe?” “I usually do when I’m around humans but sometimes I forget.” “You say that as if you’re not…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too absurd. “As if I’m not human myself? I’m not. Not anymore.” “Then what are you?” “You’ve said it before, I’m a vampire,” he confessed.

“A vampire…” You repeated dumbfounded. It made sense, everything was adding up but this couldn’t be the explanation. Vampires were just made up. “And the others are too, they’re my coven. That’s why I didn’t want Johnny to talk to you.” “Would he have..?” Your eyes widened and one of your hands flew to your neck, covering where your pulse was fluttering beneath the skin. “I’m not going to hurt you, I could never,” Jaehyun whispered when he saw the fear in your eyes, gently cupping your face as if to prove his point. “I like you way too much to hurt you. And I won’t let anyone of the others even lay a finger on you.” Your eyes immediately flew to his lips that were still stained red when he leaned in even closer so you would be able to feel his breath mingling with yours if he was breathing. “I really want to kiss you right now, is that stupid?” The vampire whispered. “Don’t hurt me,” you whispered back, letting your eyes fall shut. “I could never,” he breathed before brushing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss that send sparks through your whole body. When Jaehyun felt you relax against him, your fingers uncurling from his shirt, he kissed you again, firmer this time, wrapping his arms tight around you as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

When you felt your head start to get light, you gently tapped his strong chest and he immediately retreated, looking at you with a worried expression. “One of us still needs to breathe,” you giggled breathless. “I’m sorry,” he smiled, carding his fingers through your hair, just watching you breathe for a moment, losing himself in your eyes.

“I have another secret to tell you,” Jaehyun broke the silence, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “I don’t think you can shock me anymore,” you smiled back. “I didn’t actually kill any of the plants I bought. I just needed to have a reason to keep seeing you. Our house looks like a jungle.” You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning into his (not moving) chest that rumbled with his low chuckle. “You’re cute,” you smiled, snaking your arms around his waist below his jacket, somehow not even missing the warmth that bodies usually gave off. “Shut up,” he chuckled, wrapping you up in a tight hug. “You want to know something else?” You whispered into his chest after a while. The vampire just hummed, gently swaying you. “I looked up what the rose meant that you bought when you first came into the shop… You wanna know what it stands for?” Jaehyun hummed again. “It stands for immortality.” This time it was Jaehyun who was laughing, holding your body tighter to steady himself.

[buckleysjareau]

masterpost of all of my fics

!hey hey, here’s mostly everything i’ve ever written for 9-1-1 and Criminal Minds. Reblog if you like any of them, and always come back to check and see if it’s updated. It’ll always be pinned. :) Everything under the read more line!

AO3: 9-1-1

Buck Goes To Pride (buddie, getting together)

Thinking back to that cold winter afternoon when Buck broke down in her arms after the shit show that was his coming out, she never thought she'd be helping her brother get ready for Pride. He shut that part of himself away for a long time. But eleven years later, she's handing her brother a box with a pride flag in it, and he's grinning from ear to ear.

Buck goes to his first pride featuring his journey of coming out, lots of hugging, and Hen being the best.

...or you could have mine? (buddie, pre-relatioship)

There's too much going on between his agitation, people talking over each other, the way his uniform feels more scratchy than it ever has, and the bright lights. He can't sit still and he knows he's starting to annoy everyone but he can't help it no matter how much he wishes he could with his medication.

ADHD Buck

agree to disagree (buddie, getting together, friendship)

Whoever thought a night of heavy drinking between Buck, Eddie and Chimney was a good idea, were out of their minds. When sober, they were idiots but shot after shot of tequila plus the couple of beers they each had before meeting up multiplied the absolute stupidity of the three men.

Buck, Eddie, and Chimney get wasted and Athena wins a bet.

i put a spell on you (buddie, getting together)

Eddie Diaz absolutely loved Halloween. Ever since he was an excitable eight year old boy he’d been known to go all out for the holiday. Twenty-four years and a son had not changed that.

4k+ words of Eddie being happy, scaring his friends, and loving Halloween.

baby you know i just wanna leave tonight (buddie, pre-relationship)

If there was one thing that people knew about Evan Buckley, it was that he didn’t want people to know him.

People find out more about Buck then he ever wanted them to know when the Buckley’s come to town.

i woke up from a never ending dream (buddie, getting together)

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Sensing the urgency, Eddie jogs the rest of the way. He doesn’t know what he’s really expecting, his mind not entirely focused, but for the second time that night, Buck surprises him.

“Buck?!”

Where Buck is going through it and Eddie has anxiety but they help each other through it. Featuring pet names and lovesick Eddie.

you feel like the sun on my face (buddie, established relationship)

Buck has a way of doing things and saying things that even in Eddie’s worst moods, he still can’t fight his smile.

Eddie's view on Buck's Wikipedia spirals and the beginning of the brilliant idea it inspires.

Part 1 of 3 in the ‘cause of i’m not too far and you’re my favorite place series

you feel like the perfect escape now (buddie, established relationship)

"In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness."

Eddie planning his proposal with the help of Hen and Karen. Featuring good ol' Buck and Chimney banter, soft and in love boyfriends, and tooth rotting fluff.

Part 2 of 3 in the ‘cause i’m not too far and you’re my favorite place series

everything is blue (may + buck friendship, buddie, getting together)

When Evan Buckley is ten, he discovers nail polish.

In which Buck paints his nails, Eddie is flustered, and May is a matchmaker.

it weighs on me (buddie, established relationship)

The bad weather is gone, except it’s not.

In which Buck has a bad day and Eddie holds him through it.

101.9 (buddie, getting together)

Evan Buckley did not get sick.

Based on a tumblr prompt where Buck’s fever won’t fuck off so Eddie makes him take a cold bath.

when i’m walking in my sleep (buddie, getting together)

He finds that maybe he’s a little in over his head when Buck greets him with a loopy smile. He’s just a tiny bit in love with Evan Buckley, and having dealt with post-surgery Buck before, Eddie is sure his heart might burst with every zany grin and stage-whispered expression of appreciation.

Eddie takes care of a loopy Buck after he gets his screws removed, and truths come out.

you’re in my heart  (buddie, established relationship)

"I will not be broken... I will not be... fine, fine, you win! Stop with the face."

Eddie sings Buck to sleep after he finds out Eddie can sing.

we’ll be fine, you and i (buddie, established relationship)

He couldn’t believe his luck. He never imagined he’d be able to have this and now, he’s here. He has everything he could ask for and more in his boyfriend’s arms. Stability, happiness, love.

dizzy hurricane (buddie, pre-relationship)

“I’m a medic,” Buck mocks. “You’re a medic, but you can’t take care of yourself, apparently!”

Eddie refuses to admit he’s sick and finds his medic expertise is unreliable when it comes to himself.

tongue forgot the words and feet forgot the earth, it’s true (buddie, established relationship)

Eddie feels like he’s drowning in insurance payments, tuition raises, overbearing parents and anxiety. Things had definitely been worse on him when he didn’t have a whole new support system on his side but things just kept piling on, one after another, it was impossible for him not to feel suffocated. Every muscle in his body was sore from being completely tensed all of the time, the lack of sleep was getting to him, he’s in a foul mood to everyone that loves him. He just wants a break, needs a break.

Eddie finally gets a second to breathe.

you are my glitter and my gloom, i am so numb without you (buddie, getting together)

But right now, with Eddie by his side, he doesn’t worry. For the first time in almost a year, he doesn’t have to worry.

Buck has a flashback, or six, after the landslide. Eddie is there to bring him back, like always.

double vision wrapped in last night’s party clothes (buck centric, pre-relationship buddie)

"I have always been honest with you." When Eddie's voice cracks, Buck's composure almost cracks with it. "Why can't you just be honest with me?"

When Buck is let in on a long kept family secret, he doesn't know what to do. He almost ruins things with the one person that keeps him from feeling like he's floating away with no way to land, but it ultimately turns out okay with help of a little communication.

safe, better keep that thought to yourself (madney)

But days after, he still can’t stop hearing it in his head, over and over.

I love you, Howie. I love you, Howie. I love you, Howie. I love you, Howie.

with friends like ours anywhere is home (buck & tk, background buddie)

[@evanbuckley: you have two new follow requests.] @marjanmarwani would like to follow you. @tkstrand would like to follow you.

@tkstrand liked your photo. @tkstrand liked your photo. @tkstrand liked your video.

@tkstrand So, I see you have a boyfriend, too. I’m sorry for assuming haha

Wait, what?

Buck and TK’s long distance friendship featuring love advice, horrible nicknames and background Buddie.

wish i could keep you in amber, safe from the outside (buddie)

Neither of them say anything as Eddie takes shelter in Buck’s arms, face tucked in the crook of his neck, sheltered from all the bad that’s happened. A safe place.

He can only hope that he’s Buck’s safe place, too.

In which Eddie and Buck are struggling after the shooting and they finally have a much needed talk.

AO3: Criminal Minds

you light my fire (jemily, AU)

Emily's face stays complacent as JJ reaches out her hand to shake, only dropping the smug act and smiling genuinely when she reaches for JJ's hand. "Welcome to the team, Pennsylvania Petite."

Jemily Firefighter AU

Tumblr: 9-1-1

“i saw this and i thought of you immediately.” (buddie)

keep you warm (henren)

wheels up, buck (9-1-1, criminal minds crossover)

stand, you’re gonna run again (buck centric, buck & bobby)

bows and ribbons and glitter (buck & chimney, madney) 

“i believe that would be murder” (buddie, pre-relationship)

mac-and-cheesy (buddie, established relationship)

his saving grace (buddie, pre-relationship, buck centric)

what i love about the south (pre-relationship buddie)

unconditional, unadulterated (buddie, getting together)

home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling (buck & athena)

he’s special, they’re special (madney, meet-cute)

Tumblr: Criminal Minds

rough nights end in hot chocolate (garvez)

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Half A Heart

Pairing: SHIELD!Reader x Daniel Sousa

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: some self-destructive behavior, vomiting, mild AoS spoilers up through 7x04

a/n: Here’s a Daniel Sousa soulmates AU I thought of at like midnight and wrote in two hours because I swear I cannot get enough of that man. Let me know what you think!

___

Everyone started out with their lives feeling kinda off-kilter. Everything felt just a little bit off, perpetually unbalanced, not quite full, and it all had to do with the heart tattooed on each person’s wrist. Or, rather, a half a heart, as it wasn’t until you met your soulmate that the heart became whole and with it the entire world shifted into place. You were a bit different. You still had the same half a heart as all your friends, but yours was white. Nobody knew what it meant. Normal soulmarks were red, a sign that your soulmate was alive and well and you’d be meeting them any day now. Black soulmarks existed as well, though they were much sadder. A black soulmark meant that your soulmate had died, all accounts said the black mark was a terrible burden to carry. However, there were no records of a white soulmark. 

Growing up you believed the white mark was a worse burden to carry, sometimes just wishing the mark would turn black. At least then you’d know your soulmate had actually existed. Instead, you had become certain that you didn’t have a soulmate, destined to walk the earth with only half a heart. 

So, you had thrown yourself into your career. You were recruited by SHIELD directly out of high school and you spent four years at the Academy of Operations, training endlessly to be a field agent. Four years of hoping that if you just pushed yourself a little harder you could forget the excitement of your peers who were meeting their soulmates for the first time, forget that you would never know the feeling of “rightness” everyone talked about. It was no surprise when you graduated top of your class. 

You were quickly recommended to a team of agents who took on SHIELD’s most dangerous assignments. It wasn’t until a couple missions in that you realized: no one on your team had a soulmate. Each of your teammates had a black mark on their wrists and they explained that SHIELD only assigned people without soulmates to the team. The organization refused to send agents with soulmates on such dangerous missions, it would be cruel. You learned the policy was similar to that of the military up until the 80s when people began petitioning to be able to join the armed forces outside of wartime. 

Some might’ve found this practice disheartening and sickening, that SHIELD was willing to send you to your deaths just because you didn’t have your other half waiting for you at home but you took it as a good thing. You convinced yourself that not having a soulmate just made you an even better agent. At least, you tried to convince yourself, but some nights you were kept awake by your longing for your other half. 

Nevertheless, you were pissed when you received your transfer notice. The higher-ups had recommended you for a different team, and with or without your approval you were leaving. You’d had half a mind to go sulk in your bunk when you arrived at the giant plane you’d be traveling around the world in but your new teammates hadn’t given you a chance. Coulson - yes Phil Coulson, as in died-for-the-Avengers Phil Coulson - had immediately introduced you to FitzSimmons, who had latched onto you immediately. 

The team file had led you to believe FitzSimmons was one person, though you quickly discovered that it was a scientist duo, Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons. The two were clearly soulmates. You had known without even seeing their full, red marks. They acted like two halves of a whole and for the first month of traveling with the team you did your best to avoid them as much as possible. You felt bad, but you felt worse trying to ignore the pain in your chest stemming from the damned mark on your own wrist that seemed amplified in their presence. 

At the start of your time together Simmons had been fascinated by your mark, though after inconclusive test after inconclusive test she concluded that the white mark was a mystery. Though you still didn’t have an answer, the one-on-one time with Simmons had made you more comfortable around the scientist and you found yourself not minding FitzSimmons’ presence as much. 

By the time SHIELD fell the team had become something of a family to you. It wasn’t perfect, but you allowed the love you all shared for each other to fill some of the gaping hole your lack of a soulmate left. You still felt like you were walking around with only one shoe most days, but it felt more bearable. 

You had a support system now. You comforted each other through Ward’s betrayal and Fitz’s recovery. You stuck by each other through alien cities and the discovery of Inhumans. You were relentless in rescuing Jemma from Maveth and Daisy from Hive. You were a shoulder to cry on as Daisy’s mark turned from red to black after Lincoln’s sacrifice. Your team had been there to rescue you when you had refused to leave the Framework because at least there you had a soulmate. You’d been to the future together, you’d stopped the end of the world, you’d seen way too much loss and experienced way too much suffering but you were still together, even if some members were gone. 

You were so thankful to have your family by your side as you dealt with Sarge and Izel, none of you having properly recovered from Coulson’s death and now having to go head-to-head with a man with his face. It had felt like your most difficult task yet, with Jemma off rescuing Fitz and the Shrike’s presence on earth, but you had made it out unscathed. 

Well, mostly unscathed. You had been a bit injured in the battle at the temple, and Jemma had insisted on doing a full-body check-up before clearing you for fieldwork in the 30s. Yes, the 1930s, because apparently it was the perfect time to add “traveling back in time” to your list of absolutely insane things you’ve done since you first stepped on the Bus. That’s when she noticed. 

“Uh, y/n?” Jemma spoke, the professional demeanor she normally assumed when performing medical on the team breaking to show her confusion and concern. “When did that happen?”

“When did what happen? Oh...” Your words died in your throat when you looked down to where Jemma was pointing. 

The mark on your wrist— the mark that had always been white, the mark who’s mystery you had somewhat made peace with— was now red.

“H-how is that possible?” You were scared. You thought you should probably be thrilled, you had a soulmate after all but instead you were terrified. The fear seeped into your bones and you thought you might puke.

“I have no idea,” Jemma answered honestly before sensing your distress and tacking on, “but, we’ll do some tests and try to get to the bottom of it. We never find out what the white meant, maybe this was always in the cards for you.”

The results of this round of testing felt somehow more confusing than the first. Biologically, nothing about your mark had changed and yet it was undeniably red. Jemma had tried to reassure you both by reminding you that the science of soulmarks was basically nonexistent anyway but it was clear by her panicked expression and your churning stomach that it wasn’t working. 

Entirely lost as to what was happening to you, Jemma pulled you from field work. At some point you had wondered if you were missing the chance to meet your soulmate while you were stuck in the med bay but you brushed it off. If you actually had a soulmate, would it even be worth it to meet them only to be ripped away when the Zephyr jumped again? You weren’t sure you could handle that kind of heartbreak, and you had already gone this long with a half a heart. 

When you arrived in the 50s you put up no fight when your teammates left the Zephyr without you. You had already made up your mind on the matter. However, fate, it seemed, had a different plan.

You were really just wandering aimlessly around the Zephyr. You’d needed a break from the chaos of the team’s time travel escapades and most of the team was currently fighting off chronicoms in the train below you. 

You hadn’t even realized they had returned until you had meandered into the ramp and storage area of the Zephyr and ran smack into a stranger. You thought he might’ve said something, maybe “woah” or “look out” but you couldn’t tell through the sudden pounding in your ears. 

Had you had time to think you might’ve remembered him from your freshman year history course at the Academy. But you didn’t have time because as soon as you bumped into the man you felt the undeniable need to vomit and you turned and bolted from the room. You were thankful the bathroom was where it was as you barely made it before you were spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet. 

Then someone was beside you, holding your hair away from your face and rubbing your back soothingly as you puked. 

“Thanks, Jemma,” you breathed, your eyes clenched shut as you leaned over the toilet bowl, praying you wouldn’t start puking again. The pounding in your ears was gone but your whole body felt different. 

Jemma stiffened at your words and muttered a quick apology as she backed away. Except that was definitely not Jemma’s voice. 

Your eyes flew open as you scrambled away from the toilet, pressing your back against the bathroom wall as you stared wildly at the stranger. It seemed your brain had finally caught up with you as you recognized the man as Daniel Sousa, SHIELD agent, former partner of Peggy Carter, and the man your team had been trying to protect from the chronicoms. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” You spluttered and Sousa blushed, looking away awkwardly. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered out himself, “You were just…” he gestured to the toilet, “and, well, i t-think we’re…”

“What?” 

“Y’know…”

You did not know. You had never felt more confused in your life. This man, who you had never met before had followed you into the bathroom to hold your hair while you threw up, and his words did nothing to explain his strange actions. 

Rather than try to explain verbally, he pulled up his jacket and shirt sleeves to reveal his wrist. 

“I think we might be…” he nodded down to the full red heart prominently displayed on his inner arm.

As if on instinct, you looked down at your wrist, breath catching in your throat as you started at the matching red heart now tattooed on your skin. Your soulmark was not only red but it was whole. You suddenly realized why you felt so different: your world had finally shifted into place. 

“Oh god this has to be the worst possible way to meet your soulmate,” you groaned, slightly shocked that you were able to speak let alone joke when you thought for certain you should be crying after all the hell your soulmark had put you through. 

Thankfully Sousa laughed. “I’m just thankful to have finally met you.” 

The way he looked at you was so sincere that you swore your heart stopped right there. You stayed that way for a moment, him looking at you like you hung the stars and you wondering when death would greet you because surely it wasn’t possible to go this long without a heartbeat. 

Then he cleared his throat. 

“I’m Daniel Sousa,” he introduced, reaching out a hand to you which you took gratefully. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduced yourself. “We should probably get off the bathroom floor.” 

Daniel laughed again and your heart warmed at the sound. You clambered up to your feet before reaching out a hand to help him up, thankful to your subconscious for remembering that Daniel Sousa was an amputee and probably shouldn’t be plopping on the floor to help vomiting strangers, soulmates or not.  

“Um, I need to brush my teeth, or get a mint, or something,” you rambled embarrassedly as you stood in the middle of the bathroom, suddenly very aware that you had just vomited and not only could you taste it but he could probably smell it and oh god.  

Daniel graciously let you go and you reassured him that you’d find him when you were done. 

___

You had heard others talk about finally feeling “whole” when they met their soulmate but you disagreed. You had always been whole, but now you felt full. The constant ache in your chest (that you honestly hadn’t even realized was abnormal) had suddenly vanished. You felt lighter and you could’ve sworn the world seemed a little brighter. 

Technically it had been decades since the two of you had met but it had really only been a few months, though it felt like you had known Daniel your whole life. You supposed in some way you had, you were meant to be two halves of a whole after all. Regardless of timing, after years and years as a SHIELD agent, throwing yourself headfirst into danger at every opportunity you couldn’t imagine something as domestic as this. 

The two of you were cuddled up together on the couch of your shared apartment. Saturday night had become movie night, a chance for you to catch your soulmate up on all the media he had missed between the 50s and the present. The end credits of Monsters Inc played in the background as he leaned down to kiss you softly. You melted into the kiss, the feel of his lips on yours the only thing rooting you in reality. This moment, your soulmate, the perpetual feeling of content, was real and it was yours. 

[smnthchrstn]

Sacrifice: the Rise of Adeline Goode | II. GUIDED BY A BEATING HEART

(an American Horror Story fic)

author’s note: hi, this is part 2/2 of a collaboration with @tempusinfinituum​word count is 4,299 words.

"There is a home and a family waiting for you."

Adeline sat cross legged on her fire escape, facing her bedroom window. She was leaned forward so she could get a somewhat clear view of the small box TV that sat on her dresser. Her eyes were fixated on the staticky screen. She'd seen that woman before. She'd seen her more times than she could count—but always when she was asleep.

Adeline knew she was different at a young age. She could do things her foster siblings couldn't—and when you were a child of the system, what made you different made you a target. It wasn't until the summer she turned thirteen that she met a young girl who claimed to be a witch. The girl shared a lot of similarities with Adeline, including things they could do like telekinesis or lighting a flame with their mind. Adeline had a constant sense of calm the few times the witch visited her.

They met on her first day in the group home. Adeline was having a hard time adjusting, especially after the incidences at her last foster home. She was sitting by a small brook, leaning back against a tree when she heard someone humming. The song was familiar; Adeline's subconscious recognized the melody and she caught herself humming along. The older witch was startled, not having seen the petite blonde curled up on the ground. The two of them started talking, and before long Adeline was having to rush home to try to make it there before curfew. It was at their second meeting that the girl admitted to being a witch, telling her that's what lead her to Adeline. "I could sense you were one of my tribe," the girl would say anytime they spoke about their first meeting. She taught Adeline what she knew—which wasn't much as far as structure goes—when it came to magic. In exchange, at the older woman's request, Adeline would read to her every day for an hour after school.

When the girl stopped visiting, Adeline shut down for a few days, an unexpected depression overwhelming her existence. It lasted for less than a week, then Adeline was back to her normal self. She started spending less time in the woods—it made her sad, reminding her of her long lost friend. This, however, meant that was more time she'd spend at the group home—which meant more time to be a direct target of abuse and torment at the hands of some of the other girls.

That day on the fire escape was the first day in a year that Adeline wasn't bothered. She wasn't being pushed, slapped, or cussed out every other minute. She convinced Rita to let her skip school, telling the older woman she was dealing with a stomach bug. Once Rita had left for work, Adeline got the bag she'd kept packed under her bed. She did that in every foster home she lived in, in the event she needed an exit strategy. She was climbing onto the fire escape when—for a reason she couldn't yet tell—the voice on the TV stopped her. She turned around, sat down, and watched the interview.

Adeline felt like she was seeing a ghost, or the physical embodiment of her childhood imaginary friend. She'd had frequent dreams that involved this person, and she knew that was a sign. She had to find her. When the news flashed the name of the school once more, and Adeline quickly memorized the address that was listed beneath it. She used to think her photographic memory was one of her powers, until she changed foster homes and met another girl who shared the same talent. She felt a twinge of sadness when the girl briefly crossed her mind, but she shook it off and started on her journey to Robichaux’s.

It was long after dark when Adeline finally arrived at the large manor. She, being a foster child in a group home, obviously didn't have a cell phone. She stopped at one of the tourist stores that frequented almost every block in New Orleans, using the small amount of money she had to buy a map. She walked up the front steps onto the large, cypress wood porch. "Wait," she stopped herself. "What the hell am I doing?" Her fight or flight started kicking in, but it was too late. Despite her stopping herself from knocking and making virtually no noise at all, Adeline heard the lock click as it was unlocked and the front door opened.

—

Cordelia took a deep breath, her heels clicking against the linoleum in the kitchen. She had a newfound confidence to her as Supreme. Something she'd been desperately missing for so long. Something she didn't know she could be capable of. The middle-aged witch could feel the presence of someone outside and made her way to the door of the school to allow an interviewer inside - for the very first time.

"I don't believe we need to hide any longer," the witch simply stated when asked why she'd chosen that particular time in the school's history to 'come out' about what used to be their own little secret. "There's no reason to feel ashamed. Or forgotten. Or lost or alone when you have a whole world waiting for you. People just like you, people who understand and want to help you grow in your powers and abilities - it's nothing to be scared of. It's a gift," the blonde witch assured anyone listening beyond that room. Cordelia whole-heartedly hoped she could reach hundreds of young girls who were in the predicament she found herself in years before.

Even though Cordelia never truly felt ashamed due to her witchcraft, her mother on the other hand, made her ashamed of herself. Cordelia always sold herself short and felt so small. Shipped off to school at a young age and so far away from home hurt the young witch. She never knew her father, but had only heard terrible things about him from her estranged mother. She wished that as a young witch she would've had a leader like herself. And that was her greatest accomplishment to date - taking care of, teaching and most importantly, protecting her girls.

It took a day or so, but Cordelia began to see the influx of young witches come to visit her at Miss Robichaux's. Some were certainly powerful young witches, some were just beginning to spread their wings, and some weren't witches at all. She managed to find the ones that belonged to her coven, assuring them that they would be loved, cherished, and protected.

On one particular day, Cordelia felt something deep inside her. Something gnawing at her heart a little bit, something she'd never really felt before. The witch felt a presence outside of the manor - one that held familiarity and curiosity. She stood, her heels clicking against the linoleum flooring as she got up from the kitchen table. Tap, tap, tap she went. Cordelia put her hand out and swiftly unlocked the door without a single touch. Her heart skipped a beat once she reached the door and opened it cautiously.

Adeline's breath caught in her throat when the older woman opened the door. She observed the woman for a moment—not long enough to seem creepy but long enough to take in her gestures. The blonde’s face was gentle and kind, her composure more proper than Adeline had ever seen in an adult. Adeline focused on her eyes—they had the same eyes.

When she was little and she dreamed about Cordelia, for a brief time she thought that maybe the woman in her dreams was her birth mother. When she saw her on TV, the thought crossed her mind for the first time in years. Now, standing before Cordelia, she questioned that. Maternal instincts were practically visibly radiating off of her; there was no way she'd give a kid up for adoption.

"Uh, hi I'm..." she debated for a second on lying about her name in case the woman called her social worker, but she wasn't great at lying on the spot. "My name is Adeline. I saw you on TV...and I think I might be a witch."

Cordelia couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity once she'd opened the door and set her eyes upon the girl on the other side. She knew she'd never met her before - right? She didn't look familiar..but somehow she felt familiar. She studied her for a few seconds, although it somehow felt like much longer.

Cordelia had always dreamt of being a mother. She always wished so badly that she could give a child the exact opposite that she'd had growing up. With her husband, she couldn't get pregnant and it broke her heart. She held so much resentment inside - but now she knew why. She needed to be there for her girls - and having a baby probably would've stifled her from doing so. It didn't mean that she didn't still have that urge every now and then, even though she truly did think of her girls as her own.

The witch studied her for a few seconds longer. "It's nice to meet you," she responded, her tone soft and caring, yet still a little cautious. "I'm Cordelia. Cordelia Goode, welcome to Miss Robichaux's." The witch felt inclined to shake the young girl's hand. She wanted to be polite and welcoming, but also yearned to know more about her.

Adeline felt her heart squeeze when she heard her voice. She'd heard that voice before...it was a very, very distant memory—it probably wasn't even real. She blinked a few times, trying to force the sense of deja vu to the back of her mind. Even if this woman wasn't her mother, she didn't think it would be fair to put the burden of caring for her on Cordelia. Adeline was damaged goods and she knew it. All she would do is self-destruct and bring down everything and everyone with her. That's what always happened. She looked back up at Cordelia; her fight or flight was starting to kick in.

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered anxiously. "I think this was a mistake." Adeline turned to walk off the porch and down the stairs.

Cordelia studied the girl. She didn't really have judgment. She'd met so many young girls - so many young witches trying to figure out their place in the world and how this new part of them would play into their lives and their futures. She'd made mistakes herself - she had regrets. She certainly couldn't judge anyone else for what they'd done in the past.

The older witch took a step or two down once the younger witch tried to leave. "Why don't you come inside for something to drink? It's okay to be scared," she said, her tone coming across a little more gently. She understood that feeling. She understood it so well.

Adeline hesitated but nodded slightly, following the older woman into the house. She looked around with wide eyes upon entering the academy. Her eyes traced almost every inch of the room, almost in complete disbelief. "I've only ever seen places like this in movies..." she said quietly, scared that her voice would echo if she talked too loud.

The fact that the academy was as nice as it was only added to the inner conflict she'd been having. She pictured a real bed, with a mattress that was a thousand times softer than jail cot she was made to sleep on in the group home. She thought about the fact that their pillows probably all had pillowcases and the sheets weren't stained from all of the past foster children who occupied that bed at one point.

She felt like her body was playing tug of war—her heart was pulling her in one direction, which was toward Cordelia. Her mind, soul, and everything else that remembered that every parental figure or those who were supposed to act as such had either died, given her away, or abused her. Plus, she didn't know this woman. She knew there was a possibility that she misremembered her dream after seeing Cordelia on the news. Something about that felt wrong, though. "It's beautiful," she commented, looking around a little more.

Cordelia led the girl inside the manor, her heels clicking against the flooring again. "If you don't mind closing the door on your way in, I'd certainly appreciate it," she said politely, finally smiling a little.

Cordelia walked to the end table in the entry way and turned around briefly to lock the door. "It's spectacular, isn't it?" She had to admit, the manor was the most beautiful home she'd ever lived in - really the only place that she felt she could truly call home.

"I know I've already introduced myself but I'm Ms. Goode. You can call me Cordelia, all the girls do," she explained warmly. Something inside of her led her to the girl that had arrived outside of the school that day. She still couldn't quite place why. So she'd have to let it go for now.

"I'm Adeline... just Adeline," she half smiled, almost tempted to reach out and shake the woman's hand. This wasn't something she would normally do; Adeline wasn't proper by any means. She was basically a child of the streets. She didn't own a pair of jeans that weren't ripped, she skateboarded, and she rarely ever brushed her curly, blonde hair. That was another factor that deterred Adeline from the thought that the woman could be her mother. There was no way she came out of that. That would be a cruel joke for the universe to play on Cordelia. She noticed the entryway to the den area, the walls inside lined with portraits. "Could we go in there?" She asked quietly, curious about the pictures.

Cordelia knew that not everyone would be comfortable would touch and if Adeline didn't want to shake her hand then she wouldn't take it personally. "Of course," the older witch said rather quickly, being pulled away from her thoughts. Cordelia began to explain the portraits, speaking a little more slowly and carefully once she reached Myrtle's. "Myrtle Snow was one powerful witch - and so very nurturing, too. She took care of me. We were family," Cordelia stated simply, a soft twinkle in her eye.

Adeline looked at the picture of the older redhead and over to Cordelia, smiling softly. She looked back at the portrait, her heart sinking a little. "You seem to have really loved her," she spoke softly and carefully. Adeline always got a hint of jealousy when her friends would talk about their parents, but especially their mothers. Adeline had to go through everything by herself, when a mother's care and guidance would have eased some of that burden. She walked slowly looking at a few more pictures. In her peripheral vision, another portrait caught her eye. She turned, her eyes locking on the painting. She approached the painting, her heart starting to beat faster. She knew that face—she'd know it anywhere. "W-why is there a picture of Fiona in here?"

Cordelia nodded slowly, studying the picture of Myrtle - caught up in her own thoughts and feelings. "You could say that," she agreed, turning to face the girl again. Her smile faltered ever so slightly. Cordelia found herself caught off guard when she heard the younger woman's next words. She didn't think she'd introduced her to the portrait yet and she found it slightly peculiar that she'd bring up the topic of her late mother. Cordelia took a small breath and walked to face the portrait. It hadn't gotten easier for her. The burn she felt in her heart, the boiling hatred for the woman that caused her so much pain and heartache. "You're very smart. Fiona was our last Supreme. The previous Supreme."

"S-supreme?" She furrowed her eyebrows, turning her head to look at the older woman. Adeline's heart rhythm started beating more unevenly, a side effect of the heart condition she had after the car accident with her adoptive parents. "What's a Supreme?" Her voice was quiet, and she tired to keep it as composed as she could.

Cordelia had heard that question so many times before and smiled gently thinking about it. She never grew tired of explaining it. "The matriarch of our coven. An exceptional witch that can perform all of the Seven Wonders," she explained. "Have you ever heard of the Seven Wonders, Adeline?" Finally speaking the younger woman's name gave Cordelia a sense of deja vu. It felt more familiar to her than a name in a song or the name of an acquaintance.

Adeline zoned out a little after Cordelia explained what the Supreme was. She'd seen Fiona a multitude of times, but the difference between her and Cordelia—she'd seen her in person. Her breathing started becoming a little more erratic and her chest tightened. "I-I'm sorry. I can't—I need to leave." Adeline turned, sprinting from the parlor and out the front door. She thought she was home free, until she reached the gate. She pushed it with her palms, recoiling when she was met with a locked gate. "Shit!" She hissed, looking down at her hands. Blood trickled from a dozen small cuts from the thorns of whatever vine was wrapped around the gate.

Cordelia didn't know what was happening and before she could stop it it seemed to be too late. "Adeline - it's okay, what is upsetting you?" She asked, quickly following after the young witch. Her heels tapped rather quickly against the flooring and out the front door. She'd stopped in her tracks once Adeline had stopped and quickly noticed the blood on the younger woman's hands. "Let me help you, okay? I'll help you clean yourself up and you can go, if that's what you'd like to do," Cordelia assured her.

Adeline looked at Cordelia with tears in her eyes. She nodded slightly, but stayed silent. Her breathing was bordering on a panic attack, and she needed her hands clean so she could dig through her bag for her inhaler.

Cordelia took a deep breath, hoping she would mimic her breathing. She reached into her pocket, taking out a few clean tissues. She took the girl's hands in her own and couldn't have prepared herself for what she saw.

“Delia, let her go. It's time for her to go," Fiona spoke softly, almost sounding like she was actually comforting her daughter. Cordelia, after an hour of refusing and saying she changed her mind, loosened her grip on the baby. Fiona took her from Cordelia, who crumpled into Hank’s arms. Fiona put her thumb on the baby’s head, closing her eyes and whispering the spell over her. She handed the baby to the social worker before going back to her daughter. She waved her hand, and everything around her froze. She put her hand gently on Cordelia's head, a tear falling from Fiona's eye. She whispered the memory spell over Cordelia. She waved her hand through the air again, and everything around her was set back into motion. She stood next to her daughter’s bed with her arms crossed.

Cordelia gasped, stepping back abruptly. She suddenly felt like she couldn't catch her breath and suddenly remembered more than she had in years. She still couldn't piece it all together, but couldn't stop the shaking of her hands as she applied pressure to Adeline's wounds.

Adeline recoiled back, backing slowly away from Cordelia. She'd seen the same thing, albeit from a third person point of view. She was right. All of the thoughts about Cordelia being her birth mother. Her breathing was more strained, and she slipped into an asthma attack. She dropped down, opening her bag and digging frantically for her inhaler.

Cordelia knelt down beside Adeline. "How can I help you?" She asked, breaking her silence. She allowed her the room to get into her purse in case she had some kind of medicine to help her. She took the tissues back temporarily, making sure that she'd wiped the majority of the blood from the girl's hands.

Adeline shook her head as she pulled the inhaler from her bag. She shook it before putting it in her mouth. She took inhaled it a few times before she started feeling her airway open up. She was still breathing rapidly, but she didn't feel like she was on the verge of suffocating anymore. "I-I'm fine," she stuttered, tears falling from her eyes, breaking her obvious facade. "I'm sorry, I can't be here. I need to go." She stood up and threw her bag over her shoulder. "I'm sure you're great, but I..." her words were broken off by a strained sob.

Cordelia couldn't mask her confusion. She still didn't completely understand what she'd seen when she touched the newcomer's hands despite her sense of deja vu becoming more and more clear. "Is - is there anything I can do?" She asked, wishing she could help. "What can I do for you?"

"Explain what the fuck just happened," Adeline put her head in her hands, a thought popping into her mind. She pulled her bag around the front of her body and dug for her wallet. She opened it, pulling out a folded up picture and handing it to Cordelia.

Cordelia took the picture, her hands beginning to shake as she looked at it. The Supreme closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking a second to feel the energy around the photo. Details came back to her like pieces of a puzzle, all connecting together. 

She felt like she couldn't breathe - actually, she knew she couldn't. "I don't want to, I can't do it. I've changed my mind. Hank, we can do this," the young witch begged. "I don't want to do this," she said, tears threatening to leak down her cheeks. "I want my baby. I want my daughter."

"What are you thinking?" Adeline still felt the need to run. She could physically breathe, but her body felt like it couldn't.

The young witch's body shook violently with each sob before suddenly she didn't feel anything at all.

"Is this you, in this picture?" She finally asked, breaking from her trance. "I - I don't know how to explain this. I - my God," Cordelia breathed, still in utter shock.

"The only thing I knew about my birth parents was that they didn't want me," Adeline narrowed her eyes slightly, even though she knew full well it obviously wasn't Cordelia's fault. "Fiona started showing up after my adoptive parents died. Said she was my great aunt." She crossed her arms stubbornly. "That's all I know."

Cordelia's gaze softened. "I.." she didn't completely know what to say. She remembered some parts, but not nearly enough to tell Adeline what she wanted to hear. "Great aunt?" She asked, trying to make sense of it. Cordelia started to feel queasy and tried to swallow down the feeling.

"Yeah." Adeline responded softly, not sure what else to say. She was hurt, confused, angry. She didn't know how to handle her emotions and she knew she'd eventually lash out at Cordelia if she didn't calm down. She crossed her arm and shook her leg.

Cordelia knew she probably needed time to process all of the new information - or old information she'd been given. She wished so badly that she could talk to Myrtle about all of this - and maybe she could.. "I would like a little bit of time to process this and to think about it more," Cordelia finally chose to say, scared of pushing the hurt girl away.

Adeline furrowed her eyebrows and nodded slightly, putting her bag over her shoulder. She started toward the front door, stopping to look back at Cordelia. "It was nice to have met you." She half smiled before putting her hand on the knob. Adeline was so used to people giving her up and not wanting her that it normally wouldn't bother her. And although Cordelia didn't say she didn't want her, Adeline's trust issues were so severe she figured she may as well have. This stung more than it normally did, and tears welled up as she opened the door.

Cordelia could sense the girl's feelings and felt guilty for the way she'd reacted. "Do you have a phone number I can reach you at?" She finally asked, mere steps before she'd possibly never see the girl again.

Adeline smiled sadly and shook her head. "They don't let us have them in the group home. A lot of girls got into a lot of trouble before they'd go there. But...if it's meant to be, it will be I guess. I don't know what I expected from this, but this definitely wasn't it."

Cordelia’s heart sank in her chest. She really had no other choice. "Why don't you stay here tonight? We have spare rooms. Or if there's someone I could call?" She suggested.

Adeline shook her head. "No, it's okay. You need time...I understand that. Don't worry about me—I'll be alright."

Cordelia knew she couldn't make or force Adeline to stay. "Okay, will you come back?" She asked with hesitance.

Adeline chewed her lip for a second. "Do you want me to?"

Cordelia didn't hesitant in her answer. "Yes, of course," she said solemnly. She always kept her word.

Adeline smiled sadly, nodding a little. "I'll come back if you want me to come back... but don't feel obligated or anything. I've been though worse." She repressed the tears that burned the brims of her eyes as she turned the doorknob and exited the academy. 

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Second Chance Romance.

A/N: I’ve decided to go into my own little TRR/TRH world and create an AU. This will be fun! So; Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Explicit. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Leo Rys and Hana Lee | All Characters and names: (except MC and certain original characters, created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 2,000 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Prompt Time! Using @wackydrabbles prompt 70: “Not everything is a joke.” It will be in bold in black.

Tag List: @lifeaskim @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @kingliam2019 @txemrn @pixie88 @choicesfannatalie @lucy-268 @bebepac @choicesficwriterscreations @wackydrabbles

I AM UNAPOLOGETICALLY NSFW! READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY!

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or DM me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This is a fun side story that I decided to write. I hope you enjoy the pairing.

Chapter 12.) About Last Night.

Leo Rys has always done his own thing and lived life by his own rules. He enjoys the freedom to go where he wants, when he wants and for however long he wants. With him no longer Crown Prince of Cordonia, he wasn’t beholden to the responsibility, commitment and weight that the crown carries. To him, that life was more a living nightmare than a dream come true.

Having the lives of Cordonia and all her people in his hands scared him. Which is why he told his father that the crown should go to his younger brother, Marquise. Marquise would be a far better king than Leo could ever hope to be. And he was right.

No matter where his new nomadic life took him, Leo always made sure to come home from time to time. Especially when there was a ball or party being thrown. Like the party for the debut of his soon to be sister in law, Duchess Shanelle Dawkins of Volterias.

The party was great. The drinks were flowing like a river. The people were mixing and mingling. And the dancing was on point. But the best part about the night is that he was home. Even though he was no longer Crown Prince, Cordonia is still in his heart and is still home. And he is home to celebrate his brother and future sister in law.

But that night wouldn’t go the way he’d plan it to go.

After catching up with old friends, rivals and several old flames, Leo was sitting at the bar going on his third whiskey neat, when he saw Hana. She was being tortured by Ambassador Kennett and his endless yapping. Whether it was about politics or worse his penchant for golfing, fishing, hunting or his vintage 1956 Roadster, the man NEVER knows when to shut up. So he had to rescue her from him.

He Interrupted their conversation and successfully saved her from a fate worse than death. And to make sure that they weren’t followed by the ambassador, he took her out on the dance floor. It might’ve been the alcohol in his system but, he noticed how petite and pretty she was. And that she was blushing.

“Maybe she…nah I’m not her type.” He thought to himself as they danced.

After dancing to song after song, Hana’s were getting sore so he suggested that they take a break and go for a walk. When she agreed to a walk, they took a stroll to his favorite side courtyard in the whole palace. It was one designed by Marquise’s mother Eleanor. She would sneak him and Marquise out of their lessons, just to spend time with them there. So it’s always been one of his favorite places to go to.

They sat down on a bench and talked about what their lives were like growing up. What they saw themselves doing in 10-20 years. And what his favorite destinations to visit were. And for her, he was something she never expected. He’s funny. He’s got a great smile. She loved his soft baby blue eyes. And he’s quite the accomplished dancer. She had never had a crush on someone but she felt like she was developing a crush on him.

“How about another drink?” He asks her.

“Haven’t you had enough to drink Leo?” She asked with a teasing smirk.

“Nooooo! Besides I got this killer bottle of tequila that I got in Guadalajara back in my room, that I’m dying to open. Soooo…pretty please?” He asks her, while batting his eyelashes. It made her giggle when he asked.

“Okay. I’m curious about this bottle you have.” She replies.

“Sweet! Follow me m’lady.” He says as he offers her his arm. When they got to his room, Hana was impressed by the size.

“You got one of the bigger rooms in the palace!” She says to him.

“Perks of being part of The Royal Family. I still get to be spoiled even though I abdicated the throne. Dad made sure that I got my favorite bedroom.”

“I’m glad that you and him are close.”

He sat down on the bench at the end of his bed before he spoke.

“Ohhh yeah. He was more disappointed than angry about me abdicating. He was hoping that me becoming king would mellow me out. But if anything it made me hate the throne even more. Which is why I don’t envy my younger brother. He bears the weight of an entire nation. Their expectations, their fears, their anger, their frustration and especially their judgement. I didn’t want that life for myself. I saw what it did to my dad. How it changed him. Made his paranoia even worse than it was before mom’s death.”

“So that’s why you left?” She asks as she sits next to him.

“Yes. Because, I was never meant to be a king. It wasn’t in my heart nor was it something that I wanted to do. I have a temper. Marquise has temperament. He always wanted the throne but, because of hierarchy and the rules behind it, the throne went to me. And believe me Hana, it wasn’t an easy nor overnight decision for me to come to. I knew I’d be disappointing my dad and leaving Marquise to bear the unbearable burden of the crown, but I just knew I’d never be the king that Cordonia desperately needed.” He replied.

Talking to her made him face some of the demons he’d been running from.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Leo.”

“Nah. It’s the alcohol. My dad calls it my truth serum. Speaking of which! We got a bottle to open!”

He got up and walked to his suitcase and pulled out a bottle of golden tequila.

“May I introduce to you the finest tequila in all the lands? This is Dioses del sol y de la tierra. It is the best tequila I have ever had!” He said as he introduced her to the bottle.

She just shook her head and giggled.

“Let the shots begin m’lady!”

They drank, danced and laughed together. Hana wasn’t like Madeleine. She was a nightmarish robot who was after the crown. She was pure, wholesome, beautiful and sweet. And an absolute joy to be around. Especially when she was drunk.

“I have never had this much fun ever!” She drunkenly squealed.

“I sure have! I have it all the time!” He said to her.

“Of course you have! You’re freeeeee!”

“You gotta try it sweetheart! Freedom is the best medicine for the soooouuuul!”

Hana took a swig from the bottle then spun around but lost her footing and would’ve fallen if Leo hadn’t caught her.

“Whoa! Noble lady overboard!” He said as he caught her.

“Wheeeeeeeeee!” Hana said with a giggle.

With the bottle finally gone, the pair were sitting on his bed giggling at each other.

“Oh my God! Leo! This was soooooo much fun!”

“Yeah I know. We gotta do it again the next time I come home!”

They started laughing at each other again.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re very very handsome?” She asked him.

“Not really. The ladies usually go for my brother.” He replies.

“Well I think you’re really handsome.”

“That’s the tequila talking. But it’s a good joke.”

“Not everything is a joke, Leo.”

“You’re serious?” He asks her. She nodded her head yes.

“Ohhh…so if I kissed you, you wouldn’t be mad?” He asked. She shook her head no.

“Ohhh well in that case…” he trailed off before kissing her. The kiss was sloppy at first but got hot and heavy fast. When the kiss came to an end, they were breathless.

“Woooooow!” He said to her.

“Was it bad?” She asked.

“Hell no! As a matter of fact, I’d like to do it again.”

“Fine by me.”

He pulled her into his lap as he kissed her again. Her skin was smooth. Her lips are soft and supple. She tasted like tequila. Not that he was complaining about it. There was something about Hana that he couldn’t get enough of. With his arms around her petite frame he deepened their kiss. One thing is for sure, Leo is no slouch when it comes to kissing. He broke their kiss to look in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Hana. I shouldn’t have done that.” He said to her.

“No you shouldn’t have. But I’m glad you did.” She replies. Every ounce of shyness Hana had was replaced with lust thanks to all the drinking they were doing.

“Is this about to go where I think it is?” He asks her.

“I wouldn’t mind.” She replied.

With that he kissed her again, harder and deeper than before. They were blissfully drunk and horny for one another. He trailed kisses from her jaw to her neck. Eliciting a sound that was a mix of soft moan and a gasp. They made quick work of getting each other out of their clothes. She was beautiful to him and he was hot to her.

He resumed kissing her neck with his hands all over her. When his hands reached her nipples, he ran his thumbs over them making them harden under his touch. She couldn’t help but moan when he touched her. He kept rubbing her nipples and sucking on her neck He let one hand travel lower between her legs. When he reached her center, she was warm. But he was about to make her hot.

He began using his fingers to circle her clit and play with her entrance. The sensation was causing her to grind against his fingers. He wanted her soaking wet for him. Thankfully it didn’t take long for that to happen. When she wanted more, she groaned impatiently.

“I guess that means you want more.” He whispered in her ear.

“Yes! Yes!” She moaned.

He took that as a cue then grabbed a condom out of his wallet and put it on. When he turned back to look at Hana, he was in awe. She really was beautiful naked. She bit her bottom lip as she looked at him. With a crook of her finger she beckoned him to her. With a sly grin he went to her. He climbed on top of her with lust in his eyes and a question on his lips.

“Are you ready?” He asks.

“Hell yeah!” She replied.

She didn’t know what to expect when it came to sex with Leo. But if anything she wasn’t expecting him to be big. But when he entered her, she found out that she was wrong. He was well endowed. He went slow to allow her muscles to get used to him being inside her. She moaned impatiently because she wanted him to fuck her.

Taking that as another cue from her, Leo found his groove and began to really fuck her. Every thrust from him was fast and hard. He was going deep inside then coming almost all the way out, just to slam back into her. Her moans, groans, cries of pleasure, shrieks and whimpers were fuel to him so he would keep going.

He had one hand on the headboard behind her to steady himself and the other rubbing her clit. He wants her to explode with him. The stimulation from him sent her over the edge and crashing into her orgasm. Feeling her muscles squeeze his length sent him to the moon. He emptied himself into the condom then passed out with her.

When Leo woke up later, he was hungover and pretty sure he’d just had in a weird dream that involved him and sex with Hana. The dream became reality, when he saw the empty tequila bottle and the used condom. That’s when he looked over and saw Hana passed out next to him.

“Oh shit! This is VERY bad!” He muttered, before grabbing his phone and texting the person he knew to text: His brother Marquise.

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 6

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: When you’re done with this chapter, please go sign some petitions regarding Breonna Taylor’s case, or perhaps purchase a book about racism and oppression from a black-owned business. Yesterday I bought a few books from The Lit. Bar. During this time, please remember to destress and take care of yourselves, but do not lose your anger and outrage. There is so much work to be done. Xx

Harry woke Melody early on the morning that he was being discharged. She felt almost like she was floating as she drifted around the room and packed up his things as well as her own scattered belongings. The sun was peeking through thin gray clouds and she felt warm.

“Babe, do you wanna call a cab?” she asked, tossing her phone onto the edge of the bed where he was perched, waiting for a wheelchair. All of the paperwork was already completed. Melody had already picked up his prescriptions from the pharmacy. Both of them were beyond ready to leave.

But Harry stared at her, his brow furrowed. Babe?

She waved a hand at him. “Hello? Are you okay?”

He licked his lips and nodded curtly before he picked up her phone. Melody lugged both the bags that she had packed up over each of her shoulders and wandered over to where Vanessa awaited her in the doorway.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Vanessa said.

Melody grinned. “We still have a lot of recovering to do.”

“Just, please don’t kill yourself trying to take care of him?” Vanessa and Melody scooted out into the hall as another nurse steered a wheelchair into the room and began helping Harry into the seat. “I know you’ve been waiting for this but you need to keep some time for yourself, too. Paint a little, write a little.”

Melody rolled her eyes. “I’m a big girl, thanks.”

“I’m serious.” Vanessa’s eyes were pressing as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “You’ve been there for him and you’ll still be there for him, but you’re also a person.”

“I get it, Vanessa.”

Harry wheeled himself over. His arms were gaining strength quickly but his muscles tired too fast for his liking, and his legs weren’t improving at nearly the same rate.

“Well, he still has therapy with Aiden once a week so we’ll stop in and say hi.”

“She will,” Harry corrected.

Vanessa glared at him. “Don’t make me stick you, mister.”

Harry scoffed. “Yeh’ve seen every one of my tattoos and yeh think needles scare me? Find a new threat.”

Vanessa smiled begrudgingly. She leaned in to kiss Melody on the cheek and then backed down the corridor. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

“Ready?” Melody asked Harry when Vanessa had rounded the corner. He handed her phone over and nodded. She dropped the lighter of the two bags into his lap and pushed him toward the elevator.

***

The ride to Melody’s apartment passed in near silence. She could see that Harry’s mind was working, questions churning up and over in his thoughts. His eyes were unmoving as he stared out the window at the passing city, ruddy leaves littering the sidewalks and Halloween lights already glowing orange inside the window displays of shops. She didn’t interrupt his reflection, even as they passed by the art store where he’d bought the paintbrushes for her birthday gift the year before. They only spoke when the taxi pulled up to the curb outside her complex.

When the driver popped the trunk of the car, Melody pulled out the wheelchair the hospital had loaned them. “Bea is gonna come down and help us,” she said as she positioned the seat beside Harry’s open back door.

“What?”

“We’re on the third floor, Harry, and there’s no elevator. I don’t think I can get you up on my own.”

He helped her slide his body into the chair and then waited as she paid for their ride, but he was nearly shaking when the car pulled away. He had almost forgotten that Bea even existed, and he certainly wasn’t ready for her to have to support him up a few flights of stairs, let alone live in a flat with her. “Yeh’re fuckin’ joking, right?”

Melody’s brows pulled together. “No, I’m not. What?” And Bea was stepping outside just as she finished speaking.

“Hi,” Bea greeted, lifting one of the duffels from the sidewalk beside Melody’s feet. Her eyes skirted over Harry and she seemed to stiffen at the sight of him, as though she were embarrassed, somehow. “Everything go okay this morning?”

“Yes.” Melody shouldered the second bag and began wheeling Harry in the direction of the door. She thanked Bea for holding it open for her and then pushed him through to the foot of the stairs. Her fingers ghosted over his ear when they stopped, and she wasn’t even remotely surprised when he shifted almost imperceptibly away from her. Anger radiated from him.

“Okay, so how are we doing this?” Bea asked. The door banged shut behind her with a rough gust of wind as she stepped up beside the two of them. “Just one of us on each side of him?”

Melody nodded, and when she reached down to slip an arm behind Harry’s back he lifted his hand to grip her shoulder. The relief at being out of the hospital seemed to be winning out over his anger, but he was more reluctant to hold on to Bea when she drew her own arm around his waist, above Melody’s, as he rose to his feet. She didn’t smell like Melody, whose perfume came off warm and sugary, but like fresh fruit and summer, and her thick hair tickled uncomfortably at the crook of his neck. The three of them maneuvered up the stairs, squished closely together between the wall and the railing, and then shuffled along the first landing to the next flight.

Harry was exhausted when they finally reached Melody and Bea’s apartment. Bea kicked the door open, huffing hard, and they led him through the kitchen and into the living room. It was jarring to be here, although he didn’t really feel as though it had been so very long between visits. Firstly, because the walls were a different color. The pale green he’d grown accustomed to here had morphed into a burnt orange, so reminiscent of the changing season outside. Secondly, because his stereo system was stuffed into the corner, beside the TV. And thirdly, because a woman who looked incredibly familiar but implacable to him stood leaned against the doorway to Bea’s room, staring appraisingly at him.

“So, he returns.”

“Shut up, Josie,” Melody muttered, breathing hard at Harry’s ear.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just leaving, anyway.” Josie slipped her arms into a jacket as Bea and Melody settled Harry onto the couch. She side-stepped the coffee table and pressed a lingering kiss to Bea’s lips. Harry blinked. “I’ll see you later,” she said, and then flashed Harry a thin-lipped smile. “Welcome home.”

The words rubbed him the wrong way, for some reason, and he felt his frown deepen as Josie left the apartment. It didn’t help that he still couldn’t place her in his memories. He knew her, he was sure, but he didn’t know if there was something wrong with his head that had made him forget. The thought scared him.

“I’m gonna go grab the chair,” Melody said. “I’ll be right back.” And she followed Josie out into the stairwell.

Harry glanced around the room, avoiding eye contact with Bea. He hated being left alone in a room with her. Not that he hated her. In truth, she made him nervous, like he had to seek approval from her, and he wasn’t even sure why.

“Who was that?” he asked after a few moments, when he couldn’t bear the silence and hoped the sofa would swallow him up like quicksand.

Bea laughed, a short, derisive sound, and shook her head. “That’s Josie, you know, the bartender that served you half your bodyweight in whiskey every night at Brute’s?”

Her face and voice suddenly clicked in his mind, connecting with dozens of hazy memories fully blurred with alcohol.

“I’m sorry,” Bea spoke in a lower voice, taking a tentative step toward him. She sighed. “That was rude. She’s my girlfriend.”

Harry nodded, biting at his lower lip. “What happened to Dom?” He surprised himself by remembering her boyfriend’s name, and her expression showed that she was surprised as well.

“He cheated on me.”

It looked like neither one of them were expecting such an honest answer. They stared at each other, curious and guarded eyes assessing.

“Oh,” Harry said.

Melody burst through the door then, lugging the folded up wheelchair behind her. She dragged it over to the closed doors of her studio and left it leaning there.

“Okay,” she began, catching her breath and fanning the sweat-dampened hair at the back of her neck, “do you wanna go through some of your things and find a place to put them? There are boxes in my room.” Her pulse hammered for a short moment as she thought about Harry finally, finally sleeping in her bed again. Even when they were in the thick of their relationship, he rarely stayed here with her. Her fingers itched to touch him then, but she wiped her palms along her jean-clad thighs instead. “Or we could order lunch and watch a movie. Bea?”

“Actually, I have a seminar I have to get to, otherwise I would join.” She smiled regretfully and wandered back into her bedroom.

“Whatever you wanna do, Harry,” Melody said. She leaned up against the back of the couch beside him, resting her cheek on a forearm.

Harry puffed out a gust of air and tilted his head back. He stared up at the ceiling, which looked as though it had been patched in dozens of spots.

“Would really love a bath,” he said eventually. He wanted to get the clinical stench of the hospital off of his skin, to feel and smell marginally like himself again.

“I can do that.” Melody shot up quickly and began padding toward the bathroom. “Your soap’s already in the shower.”

Harry heard the water turn on, thundering into the bathtub as Bea returned from her room, backpack on her shoulders and her hair twisted back. She waved at him as she left, and Melody reappeared from the bathroom just as the apartment door closed. She helped Harry stand from the couch and supported the brunt of his body as they shuffled to the toilet where she lowered him back down. Steam unfurled from the rising bath water, and sure enough his soaps were lined up along the lip of the tub. His very bones ached to climb in, and he was pulling his shirt over his head when Melody turned around from shutting off the faucet.

“Do you need help?” she asked as he struggled to get his pants off, but he only shook his head. She lingered while he stripped out of his clothes. They fell into a crumpled pile in front of the sink and then he let her help him the few feet across the floor. Harry's feet were clumsy as he stepped over the side of the tub and Melody was jerked forward. She cussed beneath her breath as she struggled to keep upright, and she ended up shin-deep in the hot water. Harry chuckled at her reaction to her sopping wet pant legs as they struggled to lower him into a sitting position.

“Where’re yeh goin’?” Harry asked, catching at one of her belt loops as she went to step out onto the bathmat.

“I’m gonna go change my pants,” she said.

“Yeh’re not stayin’?”

“Did you want me to?”

Harry arched a brow at her. “Well, yeah. Tha’s why I asked where yeh were goin’."

“Because you actually want me to bathe with you,” Melody began, "or because you just wanna see me naked?”

“Why can’ it be both?”

She breathed out an exasperated laugh and looked down at him, at his uneven head of hair, at the unfamiliar gaps where muscle and fat once sat on him and where bone now showed. She used to think he looked like an art piece, but this Harry looked more like a blank canvas, or the map of some unexplored land, and his face was expectant.

Melody crossed her arms to yank the hem of her shirt up her torso. She rolled the material over her head and then shed it atop the pile of Harry’s clothing. He let go of her pants when he was satisfied that she wouldn’t be leaving, and watched patiently as she slipped out of the rest of her clothes. While his body might look new and curious to her, Melody’s body appeared as if some amateur artist had tried to sketch her and used too much shading. There was definition in spaces that he had never noticed. Her muscles moved differently as she bent down to sit in front of him. He didn’t feel positively or negatively about the change, just strange, like he was looking at her through someone else’s eyes.

“Is the water too hot?” she asked.

Harry shook his head. He reached for her knees where they were folded up in front of her, all curled up between his own outstretched legs, and dragged her toward him. She slid forward, onto her shins, kneeling between his legs until they were at eye level. His fingers lifted to her shoulders and dipped down her arms, pressing against the cords of muscle that she’d gained over the past few months. She felt hard beneath his touch, less give. Her fingers curled around the outsides of his thighs to keep herself from slipping backward.

“Do you hate it?” she whispered.

Harry shook his head again. “No. And it wouldn’ matter anyway, would it? Doesn’ matter.”

“It kind of does.”

“No, it doesn’.” He leaned forward to press his lips to her collarbone and then kissed across her chest. Melody tilted her head back as his nose brushed the base of her throat. “And anyway,” he mumbled against her skin, “yeh look good.”

Melody shifted forward again, angling her face to meet Harry’s mouth with hers. Her fingers tightened on his thighs, anchoring her to him, and his hands lifted to brush back hair from her face, from where it had caught between his lips. His fingers were wet and they left water to drip down from the strands that he had touched, plastering it to her shoulder blades. He cupped her jaw with one hand; the other wound around her waist, which was so much tighter than he remembered. Harry chased her mouth when she broke briefly to recover her breath. He held her to him, water splashing up between them and her nipples hardening against his chest, until her hip was pressed against his cock and her fingers were working up his sides, greedy and hungry, and then he pushed her away.

Melody slid back along the floor of the bathtub, her chest glistening as it heaved and a divot set between her brows. She bit at her lip and the steaming water suddenly felt too cold against her skin.

“‘M sorry,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over the top of his head. Droplets of water settled between the dark strands of his hair. “I don’ wanna— ’M not ready for that right now.”

Melody didn’t know exactly what that meant and she didn’t want to ask, so she said nothing. Instead, she settled back onto her bottom and let her legs fold up in front of her again, covering her chest, trying to keep the sting of rejection from leaking into her face. Her skin felt raw and exposed in the wake of the kiss.

Harry rested his head back against the shower wall. Melody looked uncomfortable and he sighed in frustration. He didn’t really know how to express himself to her. There was so much that needed to be said between the two of them, so much to catch up on, so many emotions and thoughts built up, but he wasn’t going to be the one to open the floodgates and he was dreading those conversations.

“‘M sorry, Mel,” he repeated when she did nothing more than stare down at the water. “Will yeh just sit with me for now?”

Her eyes lifted to scan his face, and then she grabbed onto the lip of the tub and pulled herself up, shifting the bathwater loudly with her movements. It ran in rivulets down her torso and thighs.

“Mel,” Harry groaned, clamping onto her calf. She batted at his arm.

“Let go of me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“What?”

“Just scoot forward.”

Harry didn’t move, but Melody pushed him out of the way herself before she settled back down behind him. She stretched her legs out on either side of his hips and wrapped her arms around his ribcage, pressing his spine back into her chest. Harry tipped his head forward and stared at the way her hands fit the sides of his waist. He felt her lips lingering at the back of his neck, and eventually he let himself slip down into the water, his skull perched on her shoulder, her temple pressed to his. And he felt like he could have fallen asleep.

Chapter 7

[mbti-notes]

infj. my head is in chaos regarding the topic of activism, especially in the current climate. i always try to keep myself knowledgeable and take action where i can. but right now, everything is chaos. its like no matter what you do, it will never be enough. i can’t look away or ignore injustice or pain. right now current events are filling my head up. on the other hand i feel like i’m concerned with messages about “be here now." (1)

[con’t: i’m not here in the sense that i’m with the political movement, what i’m reading online, etc. but every time i try to go about my day and focus on the “good” (like nature, or my blessings, etc.) it just feels wrong. like i’m lying to myself. because something is chipping away at me to still focus on the bad, or maybe to just focus on where i’m needed — activism. i’ve signed the petitions, made calls, donated. but an anxiety drives me to continue reading what’s happening and absorb it all i do feel driven to action. i think its natural for me to become consumed by this, these aren’t normal circumstances, and i care, but because of “mindfulness” philosophies and not wanting to be clouded by anger/judgement/fear, i’m starting to question how good it is to become all-consumed. a part of me thinks “i should post something related to this fight,” another thinks “post something unrelated” to show a sliver of happiness/hope in all the madness. i'm really broken up about this. i’m faced with the question: how much is enough? i’m bombarded with messages about “if you’re not posting about this you’re not caring enough!” now i’m too scared to post anything else, even if some people clearly need reprieve and maybe a small distraction in the midst of the pain. i’m scared i’ll be attacked for “not caring enough.” i know this is sort of a vent, but you seem like you might have guidance in this.]

IMO, it isn't a matter of doing "enough", at least that’s not a concept that I use to understand the problem. As long as injustice exists as a systemic problem in our society, then, as citizens in a democracy, we haven't done "enough", have we? In a perfect society, everyone should be treated as equal under the law. Perfection is, by definition, the highest standard, but it's not the standard that should be used to measure the actions of an individual when you’re talking about society at large. Privilege and power aren’t doled out equally in society. You don’t control the color of the skin that you’re born with nor the family that you’re born into. It’s unproductive to whip up guilt about things that you don’t control. It’s more productive to think about how to utilize whatever facets of privilege and power you possess in the wisest, most helpful way possible.

I think a better question to ask is whether you're doing all that you're reasonably able to do, given your moral duties and obligations as a member of society. Are you educating yourself in a way that allows you to be a positive rather than negative influence in society? If enough of us did that, a lot of harm would be prevented. Are you addressing how you might be contributing to systemic injustice in your life? If enough of us did that, we'd be much more mindful about who we reward, how we consume, and the candidates we vote for, which would create significant structural change. Are you able to do something to help support the victims of systemic injustice? If enough of us did that, there'd be enough resources available to root out the bad actors more quickly, which would significantly reduce future victimization. 

The only person you really have power over is yourself. As one person, you have limited time, energy, and resources to solve a problem that exists at the societal level. Your actions are only ever a drop in the bucket, perhaps a few drops if you have some social influence. Yet don't forget that every drop counts in the big picture of trying to fill up that bucket. It's easy to look at the enormity of the bucket and feel like it's impossible to fill (despair); it's hard to keep the drops flowing in at a steady pace (persistence). Generally speaking, long term goals are very difficult to achieve, both for individuals and especially for society, because it's easy to lose sight of an abstract future target when the present suffering is all too real and painful.

I’d say that you don’t understand the concept of “mindfulness” if you think that it’s meant to rid you of all your negativity. Injustice is quite sad to feel and angering to witness, is it not? Do you treat your negative feelings as legitimate? There'd be something wrong with you if you didn't feel anything upon witnessing inhumane treatment, if you didn't care about people getting hurt for no good reason. Negative feelings aren't problematic; it's what you do about your feelings that matters. Since you can’t handle your negative feelings very well, your thinking process is prone to being oversimplistic. People can care about more than one thing at a time, and caring about one thing a lot doesn’t mean you don’t care about other things. You also fail to recognize that the good and the bad are not mutually exclusive but inextricably intertwined. The existence of good doesn’t mean that there shouldn’t be any bad; the existence of bad doesn’t suddenly negate all the good. Being able to envision a better possibility actually serves to make you feel unhappy, sad, or angry that it doesn’t already exist; feeling unhappy, sad, or angry about the negative state of affairs motivates you to create something more positive in the future. In other words, good and bad exist in relationship and should be understood from a bigger, more holistic perspective - it’s useless to try to pretend that one or the other doesn’t exist.  

It's not about suppressing your negative feelings (emotional dysfunction); it's about using them as a catalyst for positive transformation (emotional intelligence). It’s not about whether you have a right to be happy (misplaced guilt); it’s about whether your happiness comes largely at someone else’s expense (examine your complicity). It's not about whether you're doing "enough" (self-punishment); it's about whether you’re mindful of the consequences of what you do (self-awareness). It’s not about whether you should/shouldn’t post this or that online (performative identity); it’s about showing who you are through what you care about (authentic expression). 

If you're trying to stop whatever you do to perpetuate the problem (not always an easy task), educate and raise awareness of the problem (which requires time and energy), and help redirect resources to better tackle the problem (which requires self-sacrifice), that's all you can reasonably expect of yourself or anyone else. Are you being reasonable in your expectations? Your concern seems to be that your "best" isn't perfect and that "trying your best" is all-consuming. As NF, you must always be vigilant about the unhealthy/extreme perfectionism that comes from being far too unrealistic/idealistic. What do you imagine is your "best" and what is the reality of being "at your best"? Can you tell the difference between the self-inflicted ideal of what you want and the reality of what you are? Is devoting all of yourself, like a martyr, your "best"? In REALITY, are you at your best when your life is lived at emotional extremes, constantly exhausting all of your energy? NO. How can you be at your best when your mindset is steeped in self-destructive tendencies?

You are at your best when you are able to maintain a proper balance between your well-being and your devotion to service. Only then are you able to be most effective in helping others. As soon as you start punishing yourself for not being/doing "enough" and start feeling guilty for not suffering in tandem with others (as though creating more suffering helps), you're creating a new problem that’s about you (i.e. your perfectionism and lack of emotional boundaries), and then you're no longer able to contribute of yourself in positive ways. Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Perhaps you need to reflect on what you consider to be your "best" and re-calibrate it to meet the reality of what it means to be a well-functioning and well-adjusted HUMAN BEING. 

Never forget that you are human, with real limitations that should be observed and respected. If you treat yourself with self-compassion - the compassion that you so easily extend to others - you would never think that making yourself miserable is a good way to help anyone or anything. You may not have the power to solve a social problem single-handedly, but you have the power to help influence positive change in your part of the world. And you won’t be able to exercise that power if you don’t practice proper self-care. 

[tundrainafrica]

Title: En Prise (Chapter 1)

Summary:  

Hange already had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness to excel in the classroom. Chess should have come easy for her. As she processed her fifth loss to the man in front of her, she started to understand that there was more to the game than meets the eye.

College AU! Levi is a little too good at chess and Hange gets roped into studying the game further.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Links to other chapters: 2

Notes: Netflix has this new show out called "Queen's Gambit" which makes chess look like I pretty good driver for a story. Attack on Titan has its fair amount of chess motifs as well and that's when I knew a Chess AU has to exist somewhere in the fandom. With that, Levihan AU came into existence.

Chapter 1

His earliest memories comprised only three sensations --- gnawing hunger, paralyzing despondency and the reprieve of the cold hard pieces at his fingertips as he maneuvered them through the board.

Over the years, his body had tuned out everything else, justifying it to his being too young to have processed it anyway.

If anyone had asked him though about the first games he had ever played with his mother, he would have been able to replay them from opening the game with a queen's pawn to the sight of his mother's hand laying the king on the ground in defeat.

It had been ten years since his mother's death, three years since his uncle's disappearance and Levi was alone. It was just him and the last memories of his uncle and his mother immortalized in a game of strategy.

Somehow, that was what made tournaments so calming to the young adult Levi.

It was his sixth game of the tournament and Levi had ended up playing on one of the boards on the corners of the large dining hall turned tournament venue. He snuck a glance at the top boards at the stage towards the center of the room before making his first move.

"The London System. Too scared of tactics eh? Typical of beginners."

Calming yet oddly stressful. Calming yet oddly depressing. Levi thought to himself as he watched the familiar play of the London System transition into an unfamiliar position.

Of course, there are billions of possibilities. There are bound to be some I've never seen in my life.

"Hey kid, your position is just weakness after weakness. Those doubled pawns on your f file, your h3 pawn. This is just a mate waiting to happen."

Within a few moves, Levi's opponent tore through his castled king with a bishop sacrifice. Seeing that the mate was inevitable, Levi put his hand out from under him in surrender.

"This was way too easy, kid. You probably could have given me a harder time if you just didn't show up at all. Do yourself a favor and find yourself some other hobby."

There were assholes in the chess community and Levi had heard that same insult towards him countless times. He grabbed his hoodie, put it back on and made his way out of the tournament hall. On the way out, he stopped in front of the list of their latest scores.

Scores as of Round 5

He scrolled towards the bottom of the sheet, knowing his name would be there.

Levi : 0

Levi was surprised to feel a knot at the pit of his stomach as he stared at the score for a few more seconds.

Losing would hurt for anyone. He thought to himself, making sense of that odd bout of emotion.

He walked away from the tournament hall and disappeared into the crowds of the subway beneath it.

                                             En Prise

Mens Sana in Corpore Sano.

A Sound Mind in Sound Body.

Every student was required to take eight units of physical education, spread out among the first two years of college

If Hange had read the flyer before she applied to the prestigious Eldia university, she probably would have figured it out by the fine print right under the name of the university. If she had at least opened her study plan since she got it three months ago, she probably would have seen it written in clear fine print below “General Chemistry” and “Precalculus”

She had picked her university for the Chemistry degree, the prestige and nothing else. All she had to know was that it was one of the highest ranking universities in the country and they had complete facilities for biochemistry research.

She was quick to take the test, fill out the paperwork and submit it along with her essay.

Five months after she found the results, a week before the start of classes, came enlistment. As Hange stared at her study plan during her online enlistment proper, she felt completely and utterly trapped.

Her majors were no problem since they were all pre-enlisted. Her predicament came in the form of her physical education units.

Four semesters of PE. Hange grimaced. And it's gonna be counted towards my GPA?  She was not athletic at all and had hoped to avoid anything physical so she could dedicate herself to her studies.

How long will I have to do this?  Hange thought to herself as she scrolled through her four year study plan that opened up in the website in front of her.

   Physical Education [for enlistment]

She clicked on it and watched as the choices opened up in front of her. Around the country, hundreds of other students were enlisting and she watched as the numbers of open slots fell to zero in some classes.

It's not like I wanted to take basketball or volleyball anyway. Hange thought as she sorted it by slot. Surprisingly, the ones which were running out of slots faster were the more physical ones. She had already planned to try for anything with the least exercise.

Table tennis. Fencing. Tai Chi. Yoga.

She stared at those four for a moment as she considered those alternatives if she could not find anything less strenuous. She continued to scroll down.

Street dance. Folk dance. Chess.

Her eyes fell on the last one with twenty full slots. She had played the game many times before, having been taught by her own parents growing up. She had beaten a lot of her peers as well since she had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness, most people her age did not have growing up. She was confident she would have it easier in that class.

For a moment, she had considered pushing it back towards a later semester. As the numbers started to fall though on all the classes, Hange knew she had to make a decision soon.

She clicked "Chess" and a few pages later, "Confirm Enlistment."

It's gonna be my first year. The important thing is I get through it.

                                               En Prise

A few days after enlistment, Hange moved into her dormitory room with her roommate, Rico Brzenska, a petite girl with short blond hair and glasses who looked too busy to even acknowledge the new presence in the room. She looked like she was studying the first few pages of their precalculus textbook, only offering her name in response to Hange loudly and messily emptying the contents of her suitcase on the floor next to her bed.

Hange had similar plans of reading in advance. The first day of classes was three days away though and she had wanted to see the campus at least before burying herself in study material

She looked out the window to see that the sun was starting to turn a mild orange. She had arrived in her room by 4pm. It was early autumn though and Hange guessed that it might get dark sooner than she expected.

Unpacking could wait. She wanted to see the city. Hange threw aside her suitcase, pocketed her wallet and phone, and made her way outside of the dorm.

She stepped out into the green landscape just outside the entrance to the women's dormitory. The air was starting to get cold and she almost regretted not bringing a jacket. Not wanting to waste any time though, she trudged on, making her way out of campus.

A lot of new students must have moved into the dormitories already. There were many people her age already walking the streets of the university town. Hange could see some students already inside the bars that lined the busier streets.

Even since high school though, she had never seen the appeal of bars and parties. She chose to walk on without giving them a second glance.

Hange was about to circle back into campus when along the more quiet streets, she came across a small book shop.

I walked this far already, might as well check out stuff.

The familiar musty smell of books welcomed her as she opened the store shop. She had spent years cooped up in library after library, and had developed an affinity for that scent in particular.

She had bought most of her textbooks in advance. In fact, the only subject she had not prepared for at all was her Physical Education classes. She had chosen that university for their chemistry curriculum and the fact that she had to take physical education units, left her bitter and indignant about giving it the same  preparation she would have naturally given it if it were any other subject.

With time though, Hange did get curious. A day before she left for college she started playing a few games of speed chess anonymously online, winning most of them. It was an easy and straightforward game. All she had to do was make sure her pieces didn't get eaten and make sure she takes the free pieces. When she accumulated enough of an advantage, she went for a mate. All the games had been like that.

As she walked through the bookstore, she crossed a games section. The books in the store piled up all the way up to the ceilings. Hange surveyed the stack of books in the game section, only to realize that at least half of them were about chess.

Was chess this complicated of a game? Hange opened one of the books only to find paragraphs worth of explanation for one board position. She pulled books out of the shelves one by one, scanning the first few pages of each book that had caught her interest.

The Sicilian Dragon

The London System

Attack with Black

Chess Puzzles

Common Chess Mistakes

Maybe it was worth studying. Hange settled for what looked to be the most similar to a text book. It was thicker than a lot of other books but was worth as much as the others which only convinced her more that it was the best bargain.

Modern Chess Openings.

Hange was sure if she just followed the path she had taken an hour ago to the bookstore, she would have ended up safe home.

If I follow the same general direction, I'd also get home anyway. With that in mind, Hange stepped out of the main street and into one of the narrower and darker alleys, her new book safe in a paper bag by her side.

Although the streets were starting to get dark as the sun started to set below the horizon her curiosity and sense of adventure remained unwavered. It was a reckless habit and Hange's parents had told her before that it could get her killed one day.  

The streets she found herself in had their fair share of bars and eateries, although not as posh as those in the main street. Her own experiences had dictated to her multiple times though that the smaller ones probably even served better food than those in the main street.

She slowed her stride, gathering in the rustic view of the alleys, the souvenir kiosks and the shabbier bars.

"That shortie is fucking hustling me! He left his knight en prise on purpose. I'm not leaving until he gives me back my money!" A middle aged man burst out of one of the bars, his face pink with what could have been anger or alcohol.

He left his knight en prise… A free piece. Having spent a good hour in the bookstore going through chess books, the lingo was still fresh in her mind.

Two men were holding him from behind, looking the same shade of pink and Hange deduced then that he was probably drunk.

"We're really sorry for the trouble we're causing you here. We left the payment on our table." Another voice said from the doorway of the bar.

As Hange approached the bar, she saw another man bowing his head in apology to what looked to be the owner by the door. The two men made space for Hange to enter as they continued to discuss the logistics of what just happened. Hange knew she would get more context on that scene if she checked it out herself.

She did not need to think much to see the cause of the ruckus. Most of the bar goers were still staring in shock at one of the tables in the corner.

On the table sat a young man who looked to be her age, counting a wad of fresh bills on his hand. In front of him was a chess board, the pieces lined up so neatly, it was unbelievable to think it had anything to do with the drunk angry man who had burst out of the bar just a minute ago.

"What's that?" Hange asked no one in particular as she approached the table. The complexity of the game had caught her eye already back in the bookshop. Getting to see it in practice so soon after that got Hange red with excitement.

"Chess," the man at the table said as if the answer wasn't so blatantly obvious. "You play?"

It was an easy and straightforward game. All she had to do was make sure her pieces don't get eaten and make sure she takes the free pieces.

All she had to do was accumulate enough of an advantage to go for a mate.

He put two of his closed fists in front of her, a pawn in each of them. She picked the one on her right which opened to a white pawn. She was slated to start first.

She opened up with her king's pawn, knowing from experience that it opened up the most pieces. He mirrored her first move, pushing his king's pawn so it was right in front of hers.

She brought out her knight, then her bishop, preparing to castle kingside.

By the start of the middle game, Hange was starting to realize that the man in front of her had completely mirrored her position. A few moves in, he left a piece en prise.

Wins were usually straightforward for those with a material disadvantage. Before taking the piece, Hange looked at the man in front of her, only to see he looked completely unbothered by the free piece.

Am I missing something? It's too early in the game. There's no attack.

Oddly enough, fifteen moves later, Hänge found herself resigning having trapped her queen in the corner of the board.

She was a knight up. She should have been able to win.

"Again."

                                      En Prise

Five games in and Hange was out of money.

"Wait. Let's play one more."

"It's late." The man stood up and counted the cash which used to be Hange's. "Besides, I'm assuming this is all you have on hand?"

Hange stood up to look at the clock behind her and it was only then did she realize she stood a good few inches taller than him. His domineering presence on the board had somehow made him look much taller to her.

She looked to the clock behind her.

9:30

Shit. Hange had lost track of time. Her dormitory had a 10pm curfew on weekdays. She grabbed her paper bag, pocketed her empty wallet and hurried out of the bar.

Hange made her way through the narrow alleys towards the general direction of the university. Those streets were much more peaceful than their wider counterparts and that gave Hange the perfect environment to reflect on how the man had played.

She taught back to the first game. He had left his night en prise at the start of the middle game, his face completely unbothered even as Hange took it. Either way, he was a material down and she knew enough of the basics to know that the win should have been straightforward from there.

Hange could not pinpoint exactly which move proved fatal on her end. The man had slowly taken over her position, advancing his territory slowly but deftly until suddenly her queen was trapped.

At first, she thought that she had been careless but as she looked back to the five games in a row. They all started with her opponent giving a notable advantage to her, whether it be a three pawns, a free knight or a rook for a knight.

Every game, she had thought she was winning. His blunders at the opening, would have made anyone think that he was a little careless or a little too overconfident. His wins came out looking like lucky breaks. Those lucky breaks though were the reason he managed to earn from the games in the first place.

In between games, if Hange had given herself time to breathe and consider the situation, she probably would have noticed the pattern. Her frustration at her own carelessness had taken over every single time.

That man was no scatterbrain. He planned everything

She thought back to the drunk man who was dragged out of the bar.

That shortie fucking hustled me! He left his knight en prise on purpose. I'm not leaving until he gives me back my money!

That same shorty just walked away with almost half of her allowance that month.

As the realization dawned on her of what just happened, Hange found it difficult to contain her anger. "That fucking asshole!" Hange screamed as she kicked the sign that welcomed her back to university grounds.The pain that quickly spidered up her foot and the ice cold wind that brushed past her only added injury to the insult of having been duped too easily.

As Hange limped back into campus, her thoughts flew back to her opponent a while ago. He had counted the money multiple times as he waited for her to move. He kept his face expressionless with every move she had played. Those images only served to further infuriate her and Hange started to scramble for an action plan.

She had to get back at him somehow.