#there are a few other allegations i’d like you all to stop throwing at him but i’ll hold my tongue

[musicalmoritz]

The common misconception that Akane has no personality outside of Aoi is a sign of immaturity among many fans, in my opinion. This isn’t really their fault, seeing as the majority of the tbhk fandom is on the younger side, but it’s still something that should be noted

When people say this, they are talking about his hobbies. It’s true that every hobby Akane has is something he started to impress Aoi. I’m of the firm belief that he stayed on the Student Council because he enjoys it but that’s slightly up to interpretation (it could also be a way for Teru to keep an eye on him). However, in general, Akane doesn’t seem to have much going on outside of Aoi. His favorite food is something he imagines her baking for him, he joins clubs based on what type of guys she shows interest in, the books he reads all have a character that shares her name, and when she asks him what he enjoys, his response is “I like you, Aoi.” He’s even shown to zone out of conversations when Aoi isn’t mentioned. This is clearly unhealthy, though he does eventually learn to give her some distance which is beneficial to the both of them. But he still doesn’t seem to actively engage in hobbies that have nothing to do with Aoi

This is a consistent character flaw, but it does not mean Akane has no personality or character outside of Aoi. This is where the immaturity bit comes in, kids want to describe themselves entirely based on their interests. With the rise of fan culture and the internet, many adults do the same. It’s not just a young people problem, it’s an issue of how we identify ourselves. We like to put people into categories, understanding them based on their hobbies and careers. These are very important elements of identity, but they aren’t everything. A person with no job and no hobbies is still a person. They might struggle due to having no outlet for their creativity, but they are a person nonetheless

Fandoms notoriously love to understand characters based on their niche interests. Aoi is a gardener, Hanako loves the moon, Nene plays idol games, Teru has a very sad life. These are absolutely elements of their characters, but there’s more to them than their hobbies. They have personalities too, goals and passions outside of what they do in their free time

Akane puts his all into helping others, he takes his Student Council duties very seriously and keeps his hands full during every school event. He is a very empathetic character, able to understand characters like Aoi, Teru, and Nene without them having to tell him what they need. He’s competitive, as seen in his friendship with Teru. He’s romantic, as is the driving force of his character (and romance is a perfectly acceptable goal, marriage is one of the most common things for a person to strive towards in life). He’s violent and overprotective, striking down any man who makes Aoi uncomfortable. He’s emotional, prone to fits of joy, anger, and tears. He’s easily annoyed and carries a chip on his shoulder, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to help people. He hates supernaturals because of how they hurt others, and despite his stance as a School Mystery, he is so painstakingly human. He can be aggressive, especially when someone he loves is trying to do something self-destructive. He cares so deeply for people, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He’d stay up all night playing video games if it made the girl he loves happy, but he won’t attack Teru for having genuine feelings for her. He’s incredibly loyal. He’s also casually bisexual so there’s that

Idk there’s just so much more to Akane’s character than people give him credit for, I didn’t even cover everything. Remember when you’re analyzing a character, it’s important to look deeper than “they enjoy this” or “this is their job.” Akane may devote so much of his life to Aoi, but he is still his own person, whether he realizes that or not

I am begging ya’ll to stop throwing the “no character outside of Aoi” allegations at this man

[tavolgisvist]

Paul about Dear Friend

At the time of writing this song, in early 1971, he’d [John] called the McCartney album ‘rubbish’ in Rolling Stone magazine. It was a really difficult time. I just felt sad about the breakdown in our friendship, and this song kind of came flowing out. ‘Dear friend, what’s the time? / Is this really the borderline?’ Are we splitting up? Is this ‘you go your way; I’ll go mine’? ... I’d been keeping largely quiet about John and The Beatles split-up in the press. I didn’t really have many accusations to fling, but being John, he was flinging quite a few in interviews. He had accused me of announcing the Beatles breakup to promote the McCartney album, but I was just answering Apple’s press questions honestly. I didn’t want to do interviews to promote it, and Peter Brown at Apple had asked questions like, ‘Are you planning a new album or single with The Beatles?’ My answer was ‘No.’ I saw no point in lying. John would say things like, ‘It was rubbish. The Beatles were crap.’ Also, ‘I don’t believe in The Beatles, I don’t believe in Jesus, I don’t believe in God.’ Those were quite hurtful barbs to be flinging around, and I was the person they were being flung at, and it hurt. So, I’m having to read all this stuff, and on the one hand I’m thinking, ‘Oh fuck off, you fucking idiot,’ but on the other hand I’m thinking, ‘Why would you say that? Are you annoyed at me or are you jealous or what?’ And thinking back fifty years later, I still wonder how he must have felt. He’d gone through a lot. His dad disappeared, and then he lost his Uncle George, who was a father figure; his mother; Stuart Sutcliffe; Brian Epstein, another father figure; and now his band. But John had all of those emotions wrapped up in a ball of Lennon. That’s who he was. That was the fascination. I tried. I was sort of answering him here, asking, ‘Does it need to be this hurtful?’ I think this is a good line: ‘Are you afraid, or is it true?’ – meaning, ‘Why is this argument going on? Is it because you’re afraid of something? Are you afraid of the split-up? Are you afraid of my doing something without you? Are you afraid of the consequences of your actions?’ And the little rhyme, ‘Or is it true?’ Are all these hurtful allegations true? This song came out in that kind of mood. It could have been called ‘What the Fuck, Man?’ but I’m not sure we could have gotten away with that then.

(Paul McCartney about Dear Friend in The Lyrics, 2021)

“That’s the only one that’s at all about the Beatles situation,” he says. “Throw the wine – shut up, stop messing about.”

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

[starlingsrps]

roots in my dreamland.

elliot has crashed harder and walked away without a scratch so he’s taking the broken collarbone more personally than he usually would. he hasn’t been injured beyond a few cuts and burns and for his first crash since arriving to end in a broken bone just feels like an insult. his mistake for feeling lucky, he guesses. he also could have done without having to rely on the hospitality of the RAF at honington for the night before someone from thorpe abbotts could be bothered to come pick him up like a parcel.

the list of things that don’t annoy him is probably a mile shorter than the things that do at this point.

the last two faces elliot feels like seeing are the ones belonging to hatcher and warren. as far as he can tell, the crew of the jackal’s nest is made up of the biggest yappers in the whole damn eighth. how anything ever get done in the nose with these two wedged inside is a mystery.

hatcher lifts his sunglasses and gives him an appraising look before whistling. “aw pookie, you had us worried.” 

“don’t you two have anything else to do?”

jack and david look at each other and shrug. sam kinney and jack seem to share a brain cell for the most part but jack appears to have taken it out for an afternoon drive.

“probably,” jack admits. “but so did everyone else.” 

david jerks a thumb at the back. “get in holland, we’re your chauffeurs.”

“with you two? i’d rather walk.”

“get in the fucking jeep, princess,” jack says. there’s an authoritative snap in his voice. jack warren could probably have a hell of a career in the army if he felt like it but elliot knows that there’s nothing that appeals to him less. he’s here to do his time and get back to the farm. elliot imagines that snap comes from running herd on a literal herd and his brothers, both of which he has heard an incredible amount about in the past few weeks because jack warren never shuts the fuck up. 

he clambers in the best he can with one arm and supposed he should count himself lucky that hatcher waits until he’s settled before flooring it and taking off. as expected, he catches shit for missing norwich for ipswich and being out of action but it’s somehow it nearly as rough as anticipated. 

“i saw some sheep,” he says to jack. “thought of you.”

“i’m a dairy farmer, asshole.” he pauses for a beat. “what kind?”

“the kind with wool? what other kind are there?”

it’s the wrong (or right) question to ask. jack explains sheep breeds to him and david the entire way back from honington. it’s oddly entertaining, though elliot has no idea what he’s ever going to do with this information. maybe one day his life will depend on knowing whatever the hell a border leicester is. 

he’s checked out again by doc who confirms that his bones haven’t knit themselves together overnight - broken collarbone, he’ll be able to fly again in a few weeks, three if he behaves himself. he meets with his co, reviews the mission and crash, gets thrown on desk duty for the next few weeks. does he want desk duty? no, but he didn’t want the crash either.

he doesn’t want to go out tonight either. he’d be happier - at least feel less like he was dragging a bad mood behind him on a leash - if his alleged friends and colleagues left him alone for awhile. they send sid to ask him, knowing damn well he can’t say no to sid. it’s like disappointing a puppy.

“don’t be a shit,” he says, throwing elliot’s jacket at him. “it’ll be a few hours, cindy.”

elliot stares at the jacket for a moment, realizing that he really does have to dress himself one handed for then next few weeks. “cindy? oh. cinderella. ha.” he starts trying to wrestle himself in, finding the leather a worthy opponent. “will you all stop with the princess bit? i get it.”

without comment, sid takes the jacket and holds it out to assist. “stop acting like one and i’ll see what i can do. one drink. come on.”

they walk to the pub in diss, catching up with the rest of sid’s crew (plus alex hardy, who seems to have attached himself to hatcher like a barnacle) on the road. once at the king’s head, they find the red cross girls already there. helen greets them with one of her sighs that always makes elliot want to apologize for existing. nell is with them tonight. he seldom goes out, she seldom goes out but of course the one night they both decide to (or were dragged in his case) to leave the bunks, they see each other.

he smiles politely before moving to the bar for a drink. she smiles politely before turning back to her conversation.

it hasn’t felt as easy since they were both on leave. he hadn’t thought of it at the time but maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let her crash in his hotel room back in june. he spent the first part of the night listening to her quiet, even breathing and the second part taking apart a plane piece by piece in his head until he passed out from boredom. she was gone when he woke up and it made him feel equal parts relieved and a little lonely. if he had seen her asleep or warm and rumpled and freshly awake, there was no way he would ever be able to recover. when he’d climbed into bed that night, the sheets still smelled like her. 

and now they seem to have agreed to never speak of it again which is fine but he hates his life and wishes he’d stayed back in nebraska and become a plumber and never joined the army at all. 

he gets his whiskey and finds a chair along the wall to sip and be seen until he can slip away. he doesn’t drink often or much when he does. he can’t do a damn thing with a hangover but if he’s going to be chained to a desk for the next month, he figures it won’t kill him. maybe. christ, this is the worst. he leans his head back against the threadbare wallpaper and closes his eyes. 

“captain holland?” 

“we were roommates for five hours. you can call me elliot.” he opens his eyes and smiles, but it feels tight. “hi nell. they get you out tonight too?”

she rolls her eyes but it’s affectionate enough that he feels his smile loosen. “elliot. feel like company?” she asks and frankly, he’s just happy someone asked instead of just sitting down and yapping. “you look a little lonely.”

“i’ll make an exception for you.”

she sits on the chair next to his and crosses her legs, resting her elbow on her knee. they’re pretty great legs and he feels guilty for noticing - for a minute. he snapped his collarbone like a twig yesterday and has been deeply irritated by every single person he’s interacted with since. a moment of glancing at nell howard’s legs feels like something he’s earned.

“hatch said you’re being a little bitchy and might bite.”

“hatcher talks too much.” he sighs and reminds himself that nell isn’t the one trying to make pookie happen. “i’ve had better days.”

“i can tell. what happened?”

“long story short, had to bail in a pasture. landed wrong.” her eyebrows raise at the same time  and he quickly throws in that he’s fine. “i just broke my collarbone. i’ll be fine.”

her eyes dart to the sling. she’s a nurse by training, he remembers. he doesn’t want to know what she’ll think of his plan to be back in record time. “when are you back in?”

“month or so? i’m on desk duty until doc says i’m clear.”

“and you hate it already,” she says with a little laugh. 

“should’ve landed on my left. i’m left-“

“handed, yeah.” she lifts her right hand and wiggles her fingers. “right.”

elliot doesn’t know what he’s going to do with that information but files it away. keeping his distance from nell is for the best. it’s a crush, if it’s anything. he’s trying to make that initial gut punch attraction die, shuffling it along to an untimely execution for his own damn good. it would be different if they were home. he’d never had met her if they were home. but in a universe where she’s in omaha or he’s in east jesus nowhere new york, it would be different.

but they’re in an english pub in the middle of a war and it isn’t. it really can’t be and he needs to make his peace with that.

but…it’s hard. she’s warm and kind without being phony about it. sweet but not sappy - she makes him laugh when she’s sharper than he expects - and something about her makes him feel hopeful, like everything might all work out in the end.

“i’ll have to remember if we ever go dancing,” he finally responds. she clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “still no?”

“nope. they don’t like us getting too close to you guys if we can help it.”

elliot looks through the archway to the bar where mary is perched on hatcher’s lap. “doesn’t seem to stop hatch and mary.”

nell laughs. “no one stops mary but mary. and i said they don’t like it not that we can’t.”

“so it’s just you?”

she hesitates a moment, an unreadable look on her face. he isn’t sure how to decipher that one just yet. “just me, i guess.”

“got a guy?”

if she does, he’ll be fine. he’ll just spend the next week chewing on it. another week wondering who the hell he is and then maybe another week stewing and then he’ll be fine.

“no, nothing like that. it’s a long story.”

“i don’t know if you’ve heard but i’ve got three weeks of time.”

“keep that sling on and maybe.” she stands and holds out her hand. “come on. you’re being a lump.”

“a lump?” he laughs. “that’s the worst you can do?”

“how about moody asshole?”

she flushes prettily and it makes him laugh again. “okay, fine. if i got you to swear.” he ignores her hand and stands, following her back into the bar area. 

“they missed you,” she says. “sid was worried.”

“did hatcher cry?”

“wept like a baby.”

he looks down at her and she looks up at him and now, just for a minute, it feels easy again. “thanks.”

she shrugs a shoulder and smiles like the sun before moving past him. “like i said, you looked lonely.”

[bccnews-press]

Awaiting the fate of a man of Tshepo Mahloele’s calibre is torturous

If I ever had the chance to advise a rich businessman about to buy a newspaper company, I would tell him to stop. Newspapers are best run by publishers in moth-eaten jerseys and smudged glasses.

This is no place for a gentleman, I would say. The people inside this building are an ungracious mob. They’ll hate you merely for paying them on time.

Watching my boss, Tshepo Mahloele, chairperson of Arena Holdings and founder of Harith, become collateral damage in the few days since it was announced he is joint lead in a consortium poised to get SAA flying again, I’d love to be able to tell him: “See? I told you.”

Too late. And now his problems are my problems. He is being roughed up by rival media and, as he owns newspapers, can’t respond without looking like a schmuck. His money is tainted, they say. He can’t afford SAA; he’s part of an ANC old-boys’ network. Is he a crook?

That’s the insinuation left hanging in the final report of the commission of inquiry into the Public Investment Corporation (PIC), Mahloele’s former employer. Did he enrich himself through a series of complex financial manoeuvrings, as alleged by UDM leader Bantu Holomisa?

Or has he been cruelly left dangling by the report? Found guilty of nothing, but nonetheless waiting for the PIC and its client, the Government Employees Pension Fund (GEPF), to investigate, as required by the commission, “that all monies due to both parties have been paid and properly accounted for; to determine whether any monies due to overcharging or any other malpractice should be recovered”.

In other words, would the PIC and the GEPF please investigate themselves? Early last year the commission gave them six months to do the work. So far, nothing. I don’t have information the commission didn’t have and I’m as confused as they were.

But life’s not fair. Over at the department of public enterprises, Pravin Gordhan has dodged every bullet fired his way in his fight to “save” SAA. He’s still standing because he knows every twist and bend of the political rivers he swims in.

My boss, on the other hand, doesn’t have a clue for politics. I think he thought there’d be wild rejoicing at SAA being taken off the fiscus, which is what he and former Comair and kulula boss Gidon Novick are promising once their due diligence is done.

Instead, it’s a war out there. People are angry with Gordhan, others with President Cyril Ramaphosa. The Left is incensed about privatisation. Whole factions are forming in the ANC that believe there are people who will throw their own money at SAA and still leave the state in control of it.

Journalists, rightly angered by state capture, are all over Mahloele’s reputation, questioning his bona fides. They have to do this, I understand that. The record is what it is and he is poised to take control of a broken, but once huge, state asset.

Can he raise the promised R3bn for SAA? No idea, but he raised R1bn in six months to buy a newspaper company. He likes big brands such as the Sunday Times, but SAA is something else entirely. Everyone knows how to save it. Everyone knows the deal’s a stitch-up. Everyone knows state capture is still going on. If the deal doesn’t work, he’ll find another one.

Mahloele made his big money in Capitec, as one of the people who put together a BEE consortium to buy 10% of the bank in 2007 at R32 a share — no discount — with a R300m loan from the Industrial Development Corporation (IDC). In 2012 the consortium sold half its Capitec stake to the PIC to pay back the debt.

Since then Mahloele has been quietly buying out other consortium members and, through another of his companies, Lebashe, now controls almost 7% of Capitec, with financial help from Investec and Absa. This week the Capitec share hovers at about R1,640 and its market capitalisation is almost R190bn. For the doubters, 7% of that is serious money.

In many ways though, he is an innocent. He pays his debts, for one. And among my jobs I’m his adviser on editorial matters. As such, he’ll sometimes ask me if he might call a reporter about an article he’s enjoyed. I’ve had to explain it isn’t editorial interference to congratulate people.

But he learnt his finance at Rand Merchant Bank (RMB) and it can get complicated. The PIC commission admits it was confused. Its Harith chapter starts with Holomisa: “One of the most difficult tasks regarding dealing with the type of corruption that is alleged to have happened at the PIC is the sophisticated nature of the transactions. Corruption can come in two forms, legal and illegal corruption ...”

The commission agrees. “These words resonate ... The layering of legal entities ... can make finding the substance, and not form, of a transaction or series of transactions complex and quite perplexing.”

But if the commission was perplexed, why not call in experts? Why ask the PIC and GEPF to probe themselves? Mahloele says he’s had two independent reviews done, including by Terry Motau, the lawyer who exposed the VBS Mutual Bank fraud. They clear him, but they’re no good because he paid for them.

A big issue is fees. “The fees charged by [Harith] appear punitive: management fees, advisory fees, transaction fees, costs of covering [Harith] operating expenses, incentive fees from 2015 on returns in excess of 8% per annum and a poison pill termination clause,” says the commission.

In February though, the SA Venture Capital and Private Equity Association (Savca) found no fault with Harith. An investigating committee found “the legal and fee structures set out in the fund terms are in line with industry standards”. I don’t know how high that bar might be.

The Harith fund fees were 1.75% to 2% management fees, plus an incentive structure where it would earn 20% of all returns higher than 8% in US dollars, the funding currency. That means investors in the funds only start paying incentive fees after they get, in cash, annualised, the minimum hurdle return rate (8% in this case) in dollars. Neither fund has paid incentives yet, but returns on the second fund are, right now, huge.

Mahloele is also accused of selling a Pretoria house to former Eskom boss Brian Molefe at a suspiciously big discount in 2016. He bought the house in the Cornwall Hill estate in 2007 for R6.8m with an Absa bond. The Reserve Bank governor also lives there. So did Molefe. Around 2013 he decided to sell. He was divorcing and the agent said he could get R17m for it, though a valuation from Absa in late 2015 suggested R11m. There was a R14m offer, but no actual money.

Eventually he took the house off the market. In 2015 or 2016 Molefe offered him R10m. By then he was living alone and had met a woman he was to marry, who didn’t want to live there. Last October Molefe sold the same house for R13.5m, having added a tennis court and other features.

Last week a newspaper carried a story headlined “Takatso Boss controls KZN purses”. Here was more “evidence” against Mahloele. Except it wasn’t. Takatso is the consortium Mahloele and Novick have formed to take over SAA. The story about the “boss” was nothing of the sort — merely a board member of Harith, nominated by the PIC, which owns a 30% stake in it.

If this is all a cautionary tale it might be about flying too high and too close to public funds and, possibly, about being black at the same time. It may also be the start of a story about new SA wealth that will be around for a long time. Mahloele says he’s “building a balance sheet”.

We will have to wait for the PIC and GEPF to do their jobs. It’s a torture. I’ve never felt sorry for any of the many owners this company has had in the 24 years I’ve worked for it. Each one has left it richer and the rest of us poorer. But this one has his own skin in the game. It’s a rare thing.

[getosboobies]

matchablossom fic recs for every mood <3

remember to check tags & warnings !

can't stop this feelings i got (this high)

summary: "It says 'you're handsome', this time."

Kaoru promptly choked on his water to laugh. "Wow, high praise," he teased. Kojiro stabbed his thigh lightly with his pen as retaliation. "Let me guess, if there's another one tomorrow, you'd collect all of them like old people collect stamps."

"Hey, they're beautiful!" Kojiro defended himself.

word count: 1643

Say It With Flowers

summary: It’s only as Hiromi’s driving away that the implications of the afternoon’s events come together fully in his mind.

First, he’s met both Joe and Cherry Blossom as their normal day-to-day selves.

Second, Joe and Cherry seem to be dating. Or something.

Third, Joe and Cherry still have absolutely no idea who Hiromi is.

Vaguely pre-canon. Joe/Cherry with Shadow POV.

word count: 6431

but i hedge my bets on love

summary: In which Kaoru recognises the poor timing of reminiscing over his ex on his way to a wedding.

word count: 8479

sugar on your tongue

summary: He isn't sure why provoking his best friend is so fun, but he can't stop himself from adding "thought I'd make something delicate, like you."

And yeah, he clearly has a death wish. Because Cherry's knuckles are still swollen from the last fight he got into, and he's suddenly crowding into Joe's space as he hisses "What did you just call m—" Joe picks up one of the desserts and pops it into his mouth before he can finish the sentence.

word count: 226

Does It Ever Stop?

summary: An exploration of what could have happened if Kaoru had been just a little less lucky. ( note: character death, made me cry lol)

word count: 881

How I Need You

summary: Kojiro takes Kaoru to the hospital and in his attempts to keep himself awake, Kaoru lets slip a few words that make Kojiro's heart leap.

word count: 3062

believe you when you say it like that

summary: “Carla,” Kojiro begrudgingly fits his thumb to the scanner outside Kaoru’s apartment.

“Joe.” Is it possible for an AI to sound disdainful?

But he’s let in anyway. He knows Kaoru well enough to duck, narrowly avoiding the beaded throw pillow Kaoru lobs at him.

word count: 2041

sunflower seeds

summary: A hacking cough, that’s what it is. Yellow petals with specks of blood, Kaoru didn't understand it at all.

(Or, Kaoru’s so hopelessly in love with someone, yet he doesn’t even know who he’s fallen for.)

word count: 6062

Do you still remember being young?

summary: “Remember when we were like that?” he asks his companion. Kaoru raises his sight from the glass of red wine between his fingers to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Young?” he replies, making Kojiro snort and roll his eyes.

“You just turned 30, Kaoru. You’re not old.”

word count: 903

hopeless and oblivious.

summary: “Wh- what?”

Adam doesn’t miss a beat.

“You’re hopeless. And oblivious.”

word count: 1120

can't sleep (without you)

summary: Joe wakes to the sound of his bedroom window creaking open. A moment later, his best friend is climbing through, all slender limbs and pink hair. And, okay, that's unexpected. Because it's nearly three o'clock in the morning, and more importantly, Joe's room is on the second floor.

"What the fuck, Cherry?"

Cherry closes the window with a shrug, "I couldn't sleep."

word count: 525

unexpected delivery

summary: In which Kaoru writes a love letter addressed to no one in particular that Kojiro happens to pick up one day.

word count: 2714

Things That We Have Been

summary: "I said, I overheard the kids and Shadow today. They were making a huge bet about us."

Kaoru hummed at that, his curiosity piqued a little. "What about us?"

"Langa said that we are dating, Reki said we're exes who still care about each other," Kojiro answered, opening his fingers one by one. "Miya, that little minx, said that we're still pining. Shadow said we're fuck buddies."

word count: 1877

A Magical City Called Paris

summary: "“I’m not a chicken!” Cherry snapped. Bingo. “And I’m not scared!”

Joe leaned forwards on the table, his face coming awfully close to Cherry’s as he smirked and said, “Then prove it.”

Cherry’s eyebrows shot up, then he frowned, grabbed his glass, gulped down the last of his drink and stood up.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go fucking dance, Kojiro.”"

*********

or, my version of what (really) happened on joe and cherry's alleged trip to paris.

word count: 2933

To the place where the sea sleeps

summary: " I love you, kojiro, " (note: character death)

word count: 783

Love Someone

summary: Kaoru brings dates to Kojiro’s restaurant but Kojiro often just whisks them away the moment they see him. Kaoru feigns annoyance, he couldn’t care less, and Kojiro’s just looking out for Kaoru, though he doesn’t want to admit it.

Alternately, two idiots think they’re smart but in reality, they’re just dumb childhood dorks in love with each other.

word count: 3049

endings (but also beginnings)

summary: "You're-" Reki starts, then stops, rocking back on his heels. "You're you."

Kojiro has no clue what that's supposed to mean. "I am?" he agrees, but it comes out sounding like a question.

He watches Reki fidget for a moment, clearly struggling to find the words he wants. "Um," he says. He's looking everywhere except his face. "How do you... how do you come out to someone?"

word count: 4063

only wanna be with you

summary: Taking a trip to Vegas. Drinking too much. Marrying your best friend. A tale as old as time.

The obligatory "we accidentally got married in Vegas" fic.

word count: 8641

i’ll make sure to add more at some point !! hope this is a good list for now :) feel free to leave your fics/recs in reblogs or replies !! i’ll check them out :)

[emmyhem]

it’s about time (l.r.h)

a/n: hi again! first of all i want to say thank you for the support on “seven things” it means the world. secondly, my requests are open and i’d be happy to write something for you. this is a jealous bff!luke imagine i wanted to get up this weekend, i didn’t do a very thorough edit before posting so hopefully there aren’t any typos. i am working on the request for a lashton x reader love triangle piece right now and will hopefully have it up by monday or tuesday. thank you, i hope you enjoy - emmy :) 

pairing: luke hemmings x reader 

summary: being best friends with the guy you’re in love with is extremely taxing especially when you have to watch him be with another girl all night. just when you’ve finally had enough of waiting around for him he ruins your plans for moving on. 

warnings: alcohol, using alcohol as a coping mechanism, slight angst, jealous luke, mentions of throwing up, cursing, luke’s a bit of an asshole. 

word count: 3.3k

“God, could they get a room?” you scoffed leaning into Calum as you watched your best friend practically eat his date’s face from across the club. 

“Jealous are we y/n?” Calum laughed slinging an arm over your shoulder. 

“No, just utterly disgusted.” you said before slamming back your fourth shot of tequila.

 That was a lie, you were jealous. You were so insanely jealous that you could scream. 

Luke had met his date, Hannah at the studio last week. She was new, working at the front desk. She had caught Luke’s eye the second she walked in the room with a bright confident smile, and a flirty look in her eye. Luke had asked her out the next day and was practically giddy when she accepted. 

And that’s how they ended up in the corner of the club, Luke’s hands tangled in her hair, and her tongue down his throat. All the while you were trying to not look bitter, and distracting yourself with one too many drinks. 

It wasn’t a new routine. You couldn’t count how many times you’ve had to sit back and watch a girl way prettier than you, be in the exact position that you would quite literally die to be in, with your best friend of 4 years. And somehow it seemed to hurt more each time, which meant more drinks for you. 

As you felt the familiar and comforting burn of your fifth shot of the night slide down your throat Calum shot you a knowing look. 

“Maybe you should slow down there, kid.” 

You rolled your eyes and took his Corona from his hands using it as a chaser. 

“Corona girl?” you heard from behind you. When you turn, your eyes meet a pretty pair of green ones (you still preferred Luke’s blue, but what the hell). 

“Tequila girl.” you clarified. 

“Respect.” the man said, extending a strong tattooed hand. “I’m Austin.” 

“Y/n” you said, shaking his hand. You glanced over your shoulder at Calum who was now engaged in a conversation with Mikey and Ashton beside you. 

“Pretty name, pretty girl.” he smirked. “So, can I get you a tequila?” 

You giggled, happy for a distraction from Luke.

“You can get me a margarita, on the rocks.” 

“Deal.” 

The two of you chatted as you sipped on your drink, mind getting hazier with each sip. And you don’t know if it was the alcohol or your determination to get Luke off your mind but Austin was really, really hot. 

“Do you wanna dance with me?” you asked before you had a chance to convince yourself otherwise. You were never really a dance in public kind of girl, normally the closest you got to showing your moves on the dancefloor was Just Dance in Luke’s living room. 

“Absolutely.” Austin replied, sliding an arm around your waist to lead you to the dancefloor. 

The bass beat shook the floor as the two of you made your way to the middle of the club. As you stopped you realized you had absolutely no idea what to do. You never did stuff like this. You can’t even remember the last time you went on a date, let alone danced to sleazy house music with a stunning stranger. You glanced around you hoping to follow the lead of the more experienced dancers around you.

 A redhead to your right swung her hips, inching closer to her partner's body with each movement until she was pressed directly to his chest. 

“Seems like a good place to start” you mumbled to yourself. 

The second your hips were in movement Austin’s hands gripped them strongly guiding your movements closer and closer to him. As the beat built and your movements slowed to a teasingly slow pace his grip tightened causing your tight white dress to bunch up on your thighs. 

With the alcohol in your bloodstream and Austin’s breath on the back of your neck you nearly forgot about Luke and your perpetual sadness, that is until you locked eyes with him from across the room. 

Hannah was tucked under his arm sipping on her drink, but his gaze was locked on you, he had an unrecognizable look on his face, and a jaw clenched so hard you feared he would break his teeth. 

You took him staring as the perfect opportunity to spin around, inches away from Austin’s face looking up at him through your lashes. His pupils were blown a bit, eyes filled with lust. He was practically breathing into your mouth. You will yourself to just kiss him. It’s not like you were Luke’s girl you thought, so you started to lean in. 

As Austin placed his hand on the back of your neck you felt someone grab your arm tugging you out of Austin’s grip. 

“Y/n”  Luke appeared next to you.

“Is there a problem man?” Austin said grabbing one of your hands. 

Luke rolled his eyes with a sly grin on his face, “Cal wants to talk to you.” he said to you not breaking eye contact with the pissed off guy in front of you. 

“I’m a bit busy.” you said annoyance brewing in you as you ripped your arm out of Luke’s hand. “Can it wait?” 

“Nope, said it was important.” he said nonchalantly “Better go find him.” 

You internally groaned, “I’ll be right back.” you said leaning in to peck Austin’s cheek. 

“Y/n, C’mon!” Luke shouted over the music. 

“Fine!” you groaned leaving Luke and Austin behind you as you scanned the bar for Calum. 

After searching for a few minutes you saw him in a booth with Ashton, and Michael talking and laughing. 

“Calum,” you called. He glanced up at you waving a hand above his hand. You slid into the booth next to him, your patience growing thin. 

“What is it?” you said. 

“What?” he said, confusion spreading across his face. 

“Luke said you needed to talk to me, what’s up?” 

Calum’s eyebrows tugged together glancing at the other guys. 

“I haven’t talked to Luke since we got here.” 

You rolled your eyes and turned to the corner across the room where Luke had Hannah pressed up against the wall. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you said out loud, rubbing your temple in frustration. 

Ashton gave you a sympathetic smile and glanced at Michael who was practically sleeping on Cal’s shoulder. 

“Maybe we should head out.” he said motioning to the drunk mess that was the three of you. 

“No” Calum whined, dragging out the oh sound. “y/n was about to get some.” he teased poking your side. 

“Just take him home, y/n/n.” Michael groaned, not even opening his eyes. 

You pondered the idea, you never did stuff like this. But Austin was hot, and Luke was preoccupied. To say the least.

“I could take him home.” you say aloud trying to convince yourself. 

“Then do it.” Calum challenged. 

“I will.” you stated proudly. “You guys get Luke. Ash, you get the uber, and Austin and I will meet you at the door. “ you gave a quick nod to the boys and went to get Austin. 

Austin stood exactly where you left him on the dance floor. 

“Thank god you’re back. I-“ 

Before he had a chance to finish, you crashed your lips onto his. He quickly fell into the kiss moving his hand to the small of you back. Before it went any further you pulled apart about an inch, and spoke into his mouth, 

“Come back to my apartment?” 

“Absolutely.” he said an excited smile growing on his face.

When the two of you made it to where your group was struggling to stand by the door Luke pulled apart from Hannah, looking Austin up and down. His eyes stopping where your hands were interlocked. 

“Love, a word?” he slurred, nodding his head away from the group. 

You walked with him just outside the door. 

“What’s up?” 

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean with this guy, what are you doing with him?” 

“Um, taking him home with me?” you said confused. 

“You can’t do that.” 

“Who says?” anger began building as you looked up at him. 

“Uh, me I guess. You know nothing about him.” 

This caused you to scoff, a laugh passing your lips, “And you do a background check on every girl you take home with you?” 

“That’s different,” he alleged. 

“And how’s that?” your patience was growing thin, and you could feel this conversation sobering you up. 

“I don’t know y/n, you're just not one night stand material.” 

Okay, ouch. Tears began to prick at your waterline. 

“Go to hell.” you breathed, pushing past him. 

“No, y/n/n. You know that’s not what I meant. C’mon love, hey I’m sorry.” he called after you. 

As you approached the group, holding back tears, you took a glance at Austin in front of you and realized that no matter how hot he was you really didn’t even want this. How could you when you were head over heels in love with your asshole of a best friend.

 But it was too late now, you would do it. Even if it was wrong. Even if you didn’t want to. Even if it was just to spite Luke. 

“Ready to head out?” you questioned aloud, swallowing your hurt. 

“Yep, uber just got here.” Ashton confirmed, guiding a hammered Calum and Michael out the door. 

You all climbed into the Uber X Ashton had ordered, Luke, Hannah, and Calum in the back, Ashton in the passenger seat, and Michael, Austin, and you in the middle. 

As you pulled away from the club, Ashton spoke over the light music coming from the car radio and gave the driver Luke’s address. The group had made plans to all spend the night at Luke’s, like you typically did after a night out. 

“We have one more stop actually” you choked out, feeling Austin lean into you, lips attaching to your neck. 

You gave the man your address and turned your attention back to the sexually charged man glued to your side. As he moved his kisses up to your jaw you closed your eyes, in order to prevent yourself from breaking down. The constant reminder that Luke had no interest in you, being thrown in your face as Hannah released soft sighs behind you. 

Ashton glanced back at you from the front seat, 

“You feeling okay, kid?” he asked. 

You nodded gulping, and looked up at the ceiling to deter your threatening tears. 

His eyes narrowed in concern as he adjusted his body in his seat so he was looking you in the eyes. Luke turned his attention away from Hannah (much to her despair) to the front of the car as Ashton spoke.

“Y/n, you sure? Maybe you and your friend should continue this another night.” Ashton suggested, noticing how you had tensed up and your expression had faltered since entering the car.

 Austin pulled off of you and shot him a frustrated glare from his seat. Ashton raised his eyebrows in response, silently challenging Austin to confront him. 

Austin moved in centimeters from your ear, “Your friends are kind of cockblocks.” he complained. 

You tilted your head away from him and looked out the window Michael was sitting next to.

“Maybe they’re right.” you muttered. “Maybe you should just go home, and we can do this some other time. I’m not feeling well.” 

You kept your gaze directed outside of the car, too afraid to see his reaction to your sudden rejection. 

“Your kidding right?” he scoffed. 

You were becoming more anxious by the second as he rambled on about how you must be joking. 

“I’m not laughing.” Luke interrupted flatly.  

“Okay, what’s your deal man?” Austin’s demeanor had quickly changed as he turned to face Luke, aggression clear in his face. 

Luke held his hands in the air before resting them on the back of your seat. “No deal, she’s just clearly not interested, so maybe you could give her some space.” 

Calum and Michael perked up in their seats as the mood in the car shifted. In the front Ashton was talking to the driver, explaining how you would be getting dropped off with the rest of them. 

Austin was in a confrontational mood now, one that made you uneasy. He and Luke continued to bicker back and forth. Hannah sat confused and aggravated next to Luke.

 You were seconds away from crumbling, feeling extremely upset and overwhelmed. Michael placed a hand on your shoulder, hoping to ease some of your distress as you pulled into Luke’s driveway. 

Everyone got out of the car, leaving Austin stirring in his own anger. Ashton patted the top of the car twice before it drove away.

“Well, y/n you sure know how to pick em’” Luke commented. 

Calum shot him a disapproving look as you shoved past, running inside. 

You had officially reached your breaking point. You couldn’t have Luke but you were in too deep to be with anyone else. Not to mention the fact that Luke seemed to be taking pleasure in your misfortune for the night. 

You went straight for the bathroom. All the alcohol and confrontation hadn’t been kind to your stomach. 

You hunched over the toilet and began throwing up before you even got the chance to close the door all the way. Your eyes were red and stinging from your tears and your throat was stripped raw. Hugging your knees to your chest you sat with your back against the sink. 

Three soft knocks came from the cracked door and you peered up through cloudy eyes to see Ashton looking at you with pity clear on his face. 

“Can I come in?” 

You nodded into your knees, staring down at the familiar tiles of Luke’s bathroom. 

You couldn’t count how many times you had been in this exact spot. Whether it be dealing with the consequences of your unhealthy coping mechanism after a night out like you were now. Early mornings after sleeping over, sitting in the steam while Luke showered because he just couldn’t wait to tell you a story, or late nights he would convince you to paint his nails. All of it was replaying in your head. 

“Why can’t he just love me the way I love him?” you whimpered as a sob broke from your throat. 

Ashton was quick to wrap his arms around you, taking a seat on the floor. 

“It’s okay, y/n.” he shushed. “You’re okay. 

“I love him, Ash” your voice muffled from being pressed to his shoulder. 

“I know.” he comforted you, rocking your frame lightly. You sat in silence for a bit, trying to control your breathing. 

By the time you left the bathroom Calum and Michael were asleep on the couch and Luke and Hannah had gone to Luke’s room. Ashton laid on the couch with the other guys and you made your way to the guest room, falling asleep the second your head hit the pillow.   

You woke up early with a throbbing headache and an insatiable craving for iced coffee. There was no doubt in your mind that you were first one awake, the guys wouldn’t be up for hours. You tiptoed through the living room past a sleeping Michael, Calum, and Ashton being careful not to wake them. As you turned the corner to leave you heard a voice from the kitchen, 

“Morning,” Luke called, his gravelly voice making it very clear he had just woken up. He was leaning on the cabinet in a pair of sweats, a cup of coffee in hand. 

“Oh, you’re up.” you responded still moving towards the door. 

“Going somewhere?” he questioned walking towards you. 

“Yea I gotta go, I have uh…” your mind was drawing a blank. “ya know,  laundry.” 

“Wait,” he sprung forward in two big steps grabbing your shoulder. “as urgent as that sounds, I wanna talk.”

“‘bout what?” 

“I feel like I should apologize for last night.” 

“It’s okay, we can talk about it later. I really gotta get going.” 

“Y/n! Will you let me say sorry, please?” he pleaded 

“You have.” you replied nodding at him before turning away once again. 

“Fine, then can I ask why you tried to take someone home last night. You never do that.” 

“No reason.” you lied, opening the front door. 

“Really? Cause Cal said something last night about you being jealous or something and then I went to check on you and I overheard-” 

“I gotta go.” you panicked, taking a step outside. 

Right before the door swung closed and you made your escape Luke stopped it with his hand and spoke, 

“Are you in love with me?” 

You froze where you stood, squeezing your eyes shut completely mortified. 

Slowly, you spun back around to face Luke. He stepped out of the door frame allowing you reentrance and led you to the kitchen. Once you had both sat down he spoke again, 

“So is it true? What you told Ashton last night, is it true?” 

You placed your hands over your eyes and shook your head.

“Does it matter?” you responded. 

“Of course it matters, what do you mean?” 

“I mean you have Hannah and it doesn’t matter how I fe-” 

“Hannah’s gone.” he interrupted. 

“Gone?” 

“It wasn’t gonna work out with us. I ended things last night.” 

“Why would you end things with-” you paused, eyes narrowing.

Luke looked down, suddenly not wanting to meet your eyes. 

“Do you...you love me?” 

At this Luke shot up from his seat and started pacing around the kitchen.

“Well, of course I do. But I asked you first, and you can’t just..” he rambled on but you stopped listening after “of course I do” 

“Lu,” you said, standing up

He continued talking, not even hearing you over his own nervous talking and fidgeting. 

“Lu.” you called a bit louder. 

He turned to you, stopping mid sentence his mouth still hanging open. 

“I am.” 

“You…” he spoke slowly, eyes frozen on you.

“I am in love with you.” 

Both of you were frozen in place, terrified that if you moved you may wake up and discover this was all just a dream. You stayed like that for about a minute till you broke the silence. 

“I have been, for a couple years now. And I never told you, cause I always thought that-” you were cut off by Luke’s lips. 

He had one hand on the back of your neck and the other pulling you closer by the waist. You melted into the kiss pressing a hand to his chest. It may sound cliche but you swore you were seeing fireworks as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip.  

“I love you.” he sighed as you pulled apart. “I am so in love with you, fuck I can’t believe-” Before he had a chance to ramble again you pulled him back in for another kiss. 

After a few minutes you broke away to catch your breath. Luke moved his hands to cup both your cheeks, 

“Hi.” he cooed. 

“Hi” you smiled. “I need coffee” you turned away walking towards the kitchen.

“Hey no wait” he whined pulling you back by the waist. “m’not done kissing you.”

“We have plenty of time for that, but I need coffee now.” you teased pressing a swift kiss to his lips. 

“Mmm, I know but we’ve got a lot of catching up to do” he said chasing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as you walked to the coffee machine. 

As you fixed yourself a coffee, Luke's chin resting on the top of your head, you heard shuffling from the living room. When you looked up Michael was walking in with messy hair and eyes puffy from sleep. He glanced at you in Luke’s arms, his expression unchanging and mumbled while pulling orange juice from the fridge, 

“It’s about time.” 

[disturbedbydesign]

The Widow and the Wolf - Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x dark!exWidow!reader

Summary: After Natasha Romanoff took down the Red Room, the former Widows scattered to the wind. Raised to be a killing machine and released into the world with nothing and no one, you decided to use your newfound autonomy to take down the bad guys of your choosing. But now Natasha is riddled with guilt for leaving you on your own. She wants to recruit you, rehabilitate you, make you part of a team again. But the rest of the squad has reservations, and no one is more against you than Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Graphic violence; Mentions of domestic violence, rape, pedophilia, human trafficking, child sex trafficking; eventual Dubcon (not Bucky); eventual smut; slow(ish) burn enemies-to-lovers. [More warnings will be added as necessary but these are the Big Bads.] 18+ only, no minors.

A/N: This is canon-adjacent in that I just decided to pick and choose who I wanted to write for and what parts of canon I wanted to use. Best not to think too hard about where it falls on the timeline because the canon is a mess and we all kind of hate it anyway.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Chapter One

You’ve been tracking him for days, not that it was hard. His patrol schedule is always the same, as is his after-hours routine: drinks at the Irish pub on Reade Street with the other boys in blue. It’s a cop bar but you waltz right in, looking lost even though you know the name, rank, and various misdeeds of every guy in the place. He looks at you, because of course he does—his wife assured you that he has a wandering eye, among his other sins.

You take a seat at the bar. “Double vodka rocks, please.”

The bartender pours you your drink and you take a deep pull, savoring the burn of it. Then you wait, but it doesn’t take long—it never does. Sergeant Thompson sidles up to the barstool next to you.

“Hey darlin,” he says, his breath reeking of cheap beer. “You lost?”

You turn to him with an innocent smile. “Evening, officer.”

“It’s Sergeant,” he says, tapping his badge, “but I won’t hold that against you. So, what’s a pretty young thing doing in a dive bar with a bunch of old men?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner but she bailed on me. Figured I’d grab a drink before I head home.”

“And where is home?” he asks, not that it’s any of his business, but cops think they deserve answers to any questions they feel like asking.

“Williamsburg,” you lie.

“You’re pretty far from home, then,” he replies, even though you both know that you aren’t. He takes a sip of his beer and the foam leaves a trace like a mustache before he licks it clean. “It’s late. Why don’t you let me drive you? Wouldn’t want you on the subway this time of night.”

“It’s only 8:30,” you say. “I think I’ll be just fine.”

He leans in conspiratorially. “Well, I really shouldn’t be telling you this—open investigation and all that—but we’ve been on the lookout for a guy in the area, serial rapist, real nasty piece of work.”

That’s one thing the two of you have in common at least.

“I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me take you home, darlin.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” you admit. “Can’t get much safer than the NYPD, right?”

He laughs and so do you, knowing that nothing is farther from the truth—especially when it comes to this guy.

Sergeant Thompson speeds across the Williamsburg Bridge with his flashers on, headed toward the address you gave him. Of course, that’s not actually your address—you don’t have a home anymore—it’s just one of many rundown warehouses in the neighborhood, variously used for impromptu raves and as drug dens and, in your case, a private place in which you can take care of business without fear of being interrupted.

“This is me,” you say, waiting for him to let you out of the back of the cruiser where he insisted you ride—caged in like a helpless animal, or so he thinks.

“This place?” he asks. “Looks like it’s about to collapse.”

“You’d be surprised what they can do to these places on the inside—gentrification and what have you. My rent is astronomical.”

“Still,” he says, “I’d like to walk you up. Looks a bit unsavory.”

“If you insist, Sergeant.”

The second you get up the stairs to the top floor, you inject him with the etorphine, straight into the jugular, and down he goes. It never gets old—how easy it is, when they think that they are the predator and you are the prey. You drag him into the loft where you’re already set up for a long night’s work.

When he comes to, he’s fixed to the chair with (among other things) his own handcuffs, mouth taped shut and a rag shoved in for good measure. You don’t want to hear him talk; it’s time for him to listen. His day of reckoning has come. He starts to squirm but between the cuffs and the duct tape and the sedative still coursing through his veins, he’s not going anywhere. Even if he did get free, you could take him down easy. It’s what you were trained for. It’s what you were born for.

“Welcome back, Sergeant,” you say, and he screams something unintelligible through the rag which, if you had to guess, would be some combination of “cunt” or “bitch” or any of the other choice words he likes to use on his women.

The tarps are laid meticulously around the room, placed strategically to catch any and all evidence of what you’re about to do. When he notices them, he goes still, because he knows. Part of him knows.

“So,” you say, pulling out the Thompson file, “this is quite the impressive resume you’ve got here, Sarge. Lots of civilian brutality complaints, including a few choice allegations from female prisoners. Oh, and then there’s the domestic violence and marital rape. You’re a real charmer, huh?”

There’s more muffled screaming but you ignore it—the last gasps of a dying man.

“Here’s the thing, Sarge. I know you think that you’re above the law, because you are the law, but you aren’t. Your wife is real tired of your shit, and me? Well, let’s just say that my motto is protect and serve.” You lean in close enough to smell the salty sweat on his brow. “And unlike you, I actually mean it.”

You pull your favorite knife from your thigh holster and slit him from ear to ear. “See you in hell, Sergeant.”

You sit on the edge of the table, swinging your legs and watching him bleed out. It doesn’t take long. The actual disposal is the real work. You set about chopping him into manageable pieces and you find yourself missing the days when you didn’t have to cover your tracks alone, when there was a clean-up team to take care of it for you.

But you’re freelance now. You’re not a Widow anymore. She made sure of that.

Sometimes—like right now, when you’re dripping sweat and every muscle in your body is screaming its exertion as you saw through bone after bone—you hate Natasha Romanoff. You know why she did what she did; you understand that, objectively, it was the right thing to do. But did she ever stop to consider the repercussions of her actions? She got out early and found a new family and became one of the Good Guys. But you? You entered the Red Room with nothing and you left with nothing.

They always said you were born to be a killer. It’s all you’ve ever known. So what exactly did she expect you to do? You may be free of the mind control, but you never had the chance to develop a mind of your own. Killing is all you know. At least now you get to pick your own targets.

Once you’ve got Sergeant Thompson all squared away, you pack him up in the trunk of his cruiser and drive upstate, listening to the 80s station you like. It occurs to you that most people have heard these songs a thousand times—so many times that they know the lyrics instinctively, can sing them without even having to think about it. It’s all new to you, though. You can’t decide whether it makes you sad to think about all you’ve missed or whether you’re lucky that you get to experience for the first time what everyone else is already tired of.

When you get to the farm, you dump Thompson in the holes you’ve already backhoed, then you hop on the Cat and fill them all in. You shoot a text to Mrs. Thompson from your burner—just a thumbs-up emoji—and she replies with a smiley face. It was only so long before he would have killed her; she knows it as well as you do. The only people that will grieve the dearly departed Sergeant Thompson are a bunch of assholes who are one false move from ending up in your web.

You didn’t charge Mrs. Thompson your usual rate—just what she could afford without drawing the attention and ire of the Mister. Sometimes, depending on the circumstances, you even work pro bono. After all, you only kill people for money who you would happily kill for free. You consider it a service, something for the greater good of society. You’ll take money, sure—you need it to live and to continue your work—but not from people who can’t easily spare it.

You have standards. You have a code. That’s the difference between the you that served as a mindless weapon wielded by others and the you that decides for yourself how to use the gifts you’ve been given. No women. No children. No collateral damage. Only Very Bad Men who’ve done Very Bad Things. You don’t see the harm in it, not really, and as you settle into bed you come back to the thought you often have before a fitful night of sleep: who’s the real avenger, Natasha?

*****

Natasha wipes her brow and throws the rag down on the mat, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging half of it before she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Bucky has barely broken a sweat from their morning sparring session, and he doesn’t even try to fake it. He’s in an especially grumpy mood.

“This is a bad idea, Natasha.”

“To some people, maybe,” she says, “but I want to bring her in anyway. I don’t understand how you of all people are against me on this, Bucky.”

“Uh, for starters, she’s a serial killer.”

“That’s a bit of a harsh assessment, considering the circumstances. And do I really need to remind you that the same could be said about the two of us? That a lot of people still say that about us?”

Bucky sighs, because he knows she’s right, but this is different—you are different. “It’s not the same,” he grumbles, but he’s not entirely sure it isn’t, and that’s what’s really bothering him.

“Look,” Nat says, taking a step toward Bucky, “I need to try, ok? I know what she’s going through because I went through it, except she’s completely alone out there with nothing and no one. You and I… we had people behind us, helping us.”

“And what if she says no?” Bucky asks. “Are you just gonna let her go on doing what she’s doing? She’s killed… how many is it now?”

Natasha mutters something under her breath and Bucky looks at her expectantly. “What was that, Tasha?”

“25 people in the last 6 months,” she states, her mouth set in a hard line.

“Exactly,” he says.

“I would like to point out that they were all very bad people. So...”

“Tasha,” he says, and he puts his hand up to silence her. “I can’t help you on this. I’m sorry. I want to, but I can’t.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh. “You know what, Barnes? You’re real high and mighty for a guy who–”

Natasha stops herself when she sees the ice-cold look in Bucky’s eyes. “Go on. For a guy who what?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I’m sorry. I’ll go on my own.”

“Well, good luck to you. Hope you don’t get your throat slit.”

Bucky stomps off and Natasha is left wondering if she’s about to make a huge mistake. She knows you’re volatile, that a part of you must resent her, but she needs to make it right. At the very least, she needs to try.

Natasha grabs her tablet and scrolls through the latest intel on your whereabouts. She’s just missed you in New York, but she thinks she’s got a jump on your next target: some coke dealer down in Miami with a predilection for underage girls. Just a brief glance at this guy’s file is enough to make Natasha’s blood run cold. She knows why you do what you do. If she’s honest, it doesn’t bother her one bit that you’re doing it. It’s the thought of you out there on your own, filled with hate and anger and thirsty for bloody vengeance, that frightens her. Because maybe one day—left to your own devices, lost in the chaos of your troubled mind—getting the Bad Guys won’t be enough for you. Maybe you’ll decide that some of the Good Guys aren’t so good after all. Maybe you’ll even be right.

She contemplates being honest with Steve and telling him where she’s headed but decides against it. Steve isn’t on board with her plan. Natasha doesn’t fault him for it—he doesn’t understand, he couldn’t. Bucky, though... that’s a disappointment, and it surprises her. If anyone knows what it feels like to spend your life as someone else’s weapon, it’s Bucky Barnes.

Natasha waits until nightfall to “borrow” the Quinjet, and she finds Bucky waiting for her when she gets to the hangar.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, “but only as back-up. She’s dangerous, Natasha.”

“Maybe so,” Natasha replies, “but only because she’s afraid.”

*****

You knew that she’d be coming for you sooner or later. Might as well get it over with. Your little stilt cabin on the outskirts of the Everglades isn’t quite set up for company but at least it’s tucked away and difficult to access. You’re surprised she brought him, though—that was a mistake. You and she could have a nice long conversation, but you have nothing to say to the Soldat.

You climb up the tree to your lookout platform and hoist your sniper rifle onto your shoulder, following their slow but steady progress through the knee-deep swamp water, trying to line up a decent shot as they weave in between the bald cypress trees. When you see your chance, you take it, and you put one about an inch from where the Soldat’s metal arm meets the flesh of his shoulder. It ricochets off, as intended, and he jumps forward to shield Natasha. You hear her laugh through your earpiece.

“Relax, Barnes. It was a warning shot. If she wanted to hit you, she would have.”

“She did hit me,” he snaps.

You smile as you descend from the tree to meet them.

“Well well well,” you say. “If it isn’t the Murder Twins. To what do I owe this unwanted visit?”

“You know why I’m here,” Natasha says.

“Yes,” you reply, “but why is he here?”

The man she calls Barnes looks at you with disdain and you give it right back to him. You can tell that shot in the arm really pissed him off and it pleases you to no end.

“He’s just watching my back,” she says. “That’s what happens when you’re on a team.”

“Right, The Avengers. How adorable.”

“Listen,” Natasha begins, but you stop her.

“Let me save you the trouble of whatever little speech you have prepared. I’m not coming with you. I’m not going to Widow rehab and joining your ragtag group of misfits. And I’m not going to stop doing my work just because you come here and bat your eyes and smile pretty at me.”

“Your work?” spits the Soldat. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Bucky, don’t-”

“Let him talk, Romanoff,” you say. “He obviously has some… opinions. Now that he’s got the mask off, he can finally speak for himself.” You take a step towards him, your rifle in hand but not pointed at him. “So speak, Soldat.”

He looks flustered and not a little bit angry. You can tell he doesn’t like to be called by that name. “Killing people isn’t work,” he says.

You huff out a laugh. “And what is it that the two of you do, exactly? Run a coffee shop?”

“We are not the same,” he says, and you smile because you know that he doesn’t actually believe that—how could he after everything he’s done?

“I think we are exactly the same, Soldat, with one huge exception: you’re still letting other people tell you what to do, and I’m done with all that.”

“This is pointless,” he says.

“Now that is something you and I actually agree on.” You turn to Natasha. “You should go while you still can. I have work to do.”

But Natasha just won’t let it go. “I should never have left you alone,” she says. “This is my fault. Let me fix it.”

“I don’t need to be fixed,” you snap, and you raise your rifle and point it directly at her head. “Leave, Natasha. And take your little pet with you.”

The Soldat grabs her arm gently. “Let’s go, Tasha. She’s hopeless.”

You feel a pang of something then—some indescribable form of melancholy. You try to keep it off your face but you can tell from the look in his eyes that he sees it. A minute tremble of your lip, the quick double blink—it gives you away, and now you’re really pissed off.

“Leave. Now,” you yell, and it pierces through the sweltering darkness. “I’ll make you sorry if you don’t.”

You watch Natasha and the bionic man make their way out of the swamp. You don’t turn your back on them, not that you think they’ll try to take you by force. That would be unwise and Natasha knows it. Once you’re satisfied that they’re gone, you return to the cabin. The bloodied man in the linen suit lays strapped to the bed where you left him, squirming and shouting around the gag in his mouth.

You have to stop yourself from making this a messy affair, but the anger you feel—at her, at him, at everything—is making it difficult to temper your darker urges. You’re not one for torture, even though this man absolutely deserves it for the horrible things he’s done. You almost give in, but you remind yourself that this is a job—it is work, despite what the Soldat may think—and you have to remain professional.

You grab the man’s file off the desk and pull a chair up next to the bed. “So, Mr. Garcia, where were we?”

CHAPTER TWO >>>

[defenderrosetyler]

APAHS Chapter 6

AN: Chapter 6 has arrived! I love all of your guys feedback it really makes my day ^_^ No real warnings this time I think..... WC: 2,221 Beta thanks to the wonderful @flamencodiva and dividers by @winchest09​ Storybrooke

“What do you mean you want an engagement ring? Hasn’t Samuel gifted you with one?” Rowena asks Ruby, closing her loan payment ledger. Yes, it was only lunchtime, but there were a few payments that had rolled in. Ruby scoffed, crossing her arms as she tossed her hair over her shoulders. “As if, he has yet again tried to throw me out onto the streets. Both of our names are on that lease. I won’t let him kick me out. I do care for him despite what the town thinks.”

Letting out a hum of thought, the red-headed loan shark headed to her back room. Looking through her drawers of things her debtors had used as a pawn of sorts to help pay off their loan. Finding the jewel she’d been looking for, with a smirk she headed back to the front of the store and placed the ring in Ruby’s hand. The ring was a thin silver band, in the middle sat a bright white diamond, on either side of the large gem, however, sat two bright sapphires. Rowena hadn’t even asked Ruby’s ring size, but this ring she’d grabbed fit her hand perfectly. “Oh, Rowena, it's beautiful,” Ruby smirked wickedly, “Sam is mine, I’m not about to let him get wrapped around another woman’s finger. Despite what people think, I do care for Sam, and I’m going to prove who he belongs to.” 

Across town, Y/N was occupied, and in pain. After explaining to Amaya her situation with needing more work to keep up her payments, both women had agreed to work at the Queen’s Court inside the Rabbit Hole. This wasn’t the kind of work she had in mind, but what choice did she have. There wasn’t anything else she could do. There was the option of agreeing to marry Rowena’s son, Crowley, but that was a hard pass. She’d rather rot in hell before agreeing to be his bride. As she finished her routine, under the name  White Swan, Y/N groaned, spotting Crowley standing at the employee’s entrance. “Y/N, sweetheart, can’t we just talk?” He asks. “Crowley, can’t you go sit in those crummy cars you sell? I’m sure the carbon monoxide would knock you out faster than living alone,” She snapped. Partly from seeing him, the other from the uncomfortableness of her heels. Walking and dancing in 6-inch heels when you’ve never done it before? Not the best thing to do.

The businessman lets out a sigh of resentment. “It's just a conversation, not a marriage proposal” He tries again. “Crowley, I’m sure there's a woman in Storybrooke who is better suited for your needs than myself. I can find ways to pay your mother back. I’m not about to just give up now” She says, brushing past him to go change. It had been a long, exhausting day, and all Y/N wanted to do was go home. Crowley left with a sigh, nodding to Ruby who stood at the street corner, waiting for Y/N to come out. Y/N groans spotting Ruby, muttering her name under her breath. “Well well, if it isn’t the little duckie coming out of the pond?” Ruby teased, making sure her left hand was in full view. The light from above catches on the gems. “Ruby, I really don’t want…” her voice trailed off seeing the ring. “Is that?” Ruby smirked, “My engagement ring from Sam? Oh yes, proposed last night after he got home. Guess he couldn’t wait any longer. He really does love me deep down, you know.” “That’s not how I understood it. He keeps trying to kick you out.” Y/N argues, trying to hold back her tears.  

Ruby scoffed, crossing her arms as she glared at Y/N, “couples fight, duckie.” She licked her lips, “you would know if you ever had a man. Let’s face it, you’re too ugly for any man to ever want you.” Ruby noticed Crowley watching them, a sly smile on her lips, “Crowley must be desperate if he’s going for you. You know, his mom is almost as rich as Gold. Too bad you’ll always be down in the dirt, like the ugly duckling you are.” “Why don’t you just leave me alone Ruby.” Y/N scoffed, “Surely you must have something better to do?” 

Brushing past her, Y/N turns to head back into the Rabbit Hole, spotting Crowley sitting at the bar. “About dinner…”

----- Enchanted Forest “Making me do all your work? What kind of witch are you anyway. You’ve got the girl, why can’t we just take over her kingdom instead of the Winchesters?” Crowley snarled at his mother as he grabbed his clothes. “Because they banished me for just a wee bit of magic. It's not like I was planning to kill anybody” Rowena says with a shrug, looking through the spellbooks she’d had Crowley sneak in and grab for her. Well, the one’s that King John hadn’t destroyed by putting them into a fiery blaze the day she was banished. “Mother, we both know you wanted Queen Mary killed, force yourself into King John’s bed till you were pregnant and solidified an heir.” This made Rowena blink. Her son was smarter than he looked, and minor details didn’t slip past him usually. 

“Perhaps.” She says not confirming or denying her son’s allegations against her. Grabbing the final ingredient, tossing it into the black cauldron, she sighed, grabbing a ladle and portioned out the vials. “This will be the third batch this week. Are you sure you're making it right?” Crowley asks, arms crossed against his chest. Rowena’s dark jade eyes glare at him. “It’s a slow process. Can’t do it all at once.” “You said that after the first batch. I’ve been sneaking around, trying to not get caught, yet here you are making me risk my neck for you.” The red head sighed frustrated, “You know that Castle, as well as I do, Crowley. You know how to remain hidden and unseen. Only a fool would get caught.” This particular batch of poison made six vials in total. Taking four of them, and placing them in his pocket, Crowley makes his way back to Winchester Palace. 

The poison his mother had made, in enough doses and in large quantities, was meant to make the drinker incoherent and unable to think clearly. Once the recipient had received enough, it would make her appear to have an incurable disease. Once to baffle the medical staff till they were blue in the face, trying to heal their precious and beloved Queen. Since Odette’s capture, Crowley had been giving Queen Mary four vials in the span of a week. He’d started off with two, but there wasn’t as much of an effect as his mother would have liked, so she made him up the vial amount to four.

Being he’d left later than he’d planned, Crowley had managed to sneak into the kitchens just before supper was to be served. The kitchen was more packed than he’d planned as the staff bustled about gathering the finishing touches for the evening meal. 

Ever since Princess Ruby’s arrival, King John had spared no expense. Bringing the best protein and sides he could manage. He did want to leave a good impression on the princess if indeed she was to be Sam’s bride. As soon as Crowley was sure the coast was clear, he entered the kitchen through a secret passage. As he was opening the vial, however, he was stopped when the tip of a blade was pressed just under his neck. “Back away slowly, before I slit your throat and make a mess for the maids to clean,” a gruff voice said from beside Crowley. Stepping backward as he was asked, Crowley swallowed the lump in his throat as he met a pair of bright blue eyes. “Evening Castiel.”

“Benny, what do you mean I can’t go downstairs, it's time for dinner, as usual, what's wrong?” Sam asks him as he was prevented from leaving his chambers.

“I’m zorry, your highnez,” Benny let out. “It zeems Castiel haz caught our slippery snake,” he continued, leading Sam down a long hallway and towards the dungeons. 

“Slippery….” Sam says confused before catching who Castiel had exactly caught. “Crowley.” “‘Ello, Samuel,” Crowley muttered, “Come to be my executioner?” “I’ll leave that to Castiel. He’s good at killing snakes like you.” “I was only doing as I was told!” Crowley argued, trying to make a defense for himself, “It’s not my fault my mother’s obsessed with ruling the place!” 

“Your mother?” Castiel asked, raising his eyebrow at him. “The Witch Rowena,” Sam snarled through his teeth, “The one who stole Odette and killed her father”

“Then why was he allowed to work in the palace?” Castiel glared at Crowley, the tip of his blade pressing on his neck. “How did we not know?” “A girl has to have her secrets blue eyes.” Crowley muttered. “Benny, give me your sword.” Sam says looking over at him, “I’m sure Castiel would be more than happy to kill him, but this is one execution I’d have the pleasure of handling myself.” “Kill me if you want, boy, but that little swan of yours will still stay hidden.” Sam’s anger rose, his chest rising and falling as his nose began to flare out. 

“Sam,” Castiel said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We need to notify your father. We need to know how we never knew about Rowena being his mother? Have you seen Crowley with Rowena?” Sam nodded, his gaze still fixed on Castiel. “Out by the lake, he and his mother are out there every night.” Back upstairs, John went to find Mary, wanting to make sure that she was alright. Upon entering their chambers, he spotted her still lying in bed. “Mary? Are you alright?” “It’s nothing. Just a little tired from this afternoon that’s all” The Queen replied, trying to brush off her husband’s worry. John felt his wife’s head, noticing beads of sweat running down her forehead. “Mary, you're burning up,” he whispered, running to the door to shout for the Castle Doctor. 

“Forgive me your majesty, but your wife does appear quite ill. The problem is, I cannot tell what has made her ill.” He admits with a frown. “There has to be something you can do.” The King begs. The Doctor was silent, grabbing his things as he left the King and Queens chambers. “Your Highness,” another one of the guards says, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “Forgive my intrusion, but your father is asking for you.” Sam looks at Benny and Castiel, “I’ll talk to my father about this. Get as much information out of him as you can, we need to find what he’s been doing here.” he says, turning to head back up the stairs. “Dad!” Sam calls appearing at the end of the corridor once climbing the stairs. “Son, we need to talk privately.” John says in hushed tones, “I have some concerning news concerning your mother.”

---- Storybrooke

After working through the papers at Gold’s office, logging the few items he’d gotten as pawns, Sam looked up hearing the clicking of heels. Groaning as he spotted Ruby leaning against the glass displays. It was valentine's day and Sam had planned on stopping by Granny’s to look for Y/N to give her a yellow rose for the day, in hopes to mend their relationship. “Ruby, what are you doing here? Couldn’t this wait till I got back?” Sam muttered

“What, and ruin the evening of valentines day? I thought maybe we could go out to Granny’s or something.” Ruby smiled, batting her eyelashes at him. “Well, Well, Miss Blackheart, wasn’t expecting a visit from you.” Gold says, making his way out of his office. “What a ring you have, looks like you did rather well Samuel. It would seem congratulations are in order.” 

Sam looked over at his employer rather confused. “What?” he asks, finally catching the glint of the ring on Ruby’s left ring finger, “Where did you get that. I know I didn’t get that for you.” 

“Course you did.” Ruby winked, pulling Sam along with her “Come on, I want to celebrate our engagement by having a special dinner.” Sam wanted to protest going to dinner with Ruby, he could barely stand the woman, let alone any more unnecessary stress. He just wanted one thing to go right, or even just halfway normal. He’d been meaning to find time to talk to Henry, or even Bobby. He’d talk to Dean, but given their recent conversations, it would just turn into an argument. 

As they made their way into Granny’s diner, Sam felt his heart go cold, seeing car salesman Crowley Rosethorn press a kiss to Y/N’s cheek as he handed her a handful of red roses. 

Sam felt the wind get knocked out of his chest. His heart felt like it was going to shatter, it held a secondary emotion though. Jealousy. He wanted to be the person giving Y/N roses, wanted to make her laugh, smile or just be happy. 

Apparently Ruby had other ideas, as she forced his hand on their engagement. He had to break it off, but how?

[engie-ivy]

Remus Lupin is very young when he joins the Order of the Phoenix to fight in the war. Young, but not naive. He knows that war isn't an exciting adventure with heroic battles, but pain, loss and grief. He has known this ever since his boyfriend was killed by Death Eaters when he was just seventeen years old. It only makes him more determined to fight.

And maybe the things we lose really do have a way of coming back to us in the end.

Wolfstar angst, but with a sappy, happy ending!

Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”

Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

Always meant to come back

The young man, almost a boy really, barely twenty years old, blinks his eyes open. He squints against the bright light in the room, and tries to sit up, but winches in pain and falls back on the bed.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Alastor warns. “We’ve had a Healer patch you up as good as possible, but your body has taken quite a hit, with all those hexes and curses thrown at you.”

“What...” the young man begins to ask.

“You’ll be fine,” Alastor ensures him. “You’re just going to have to take a lot of rest, at least until your wounds have healed. Especially the cuts on your back, probably from a Lashing Hex, may be dangerous if they’ll start bleeding again.”

The young man looks at him for a moment, pale, weary-eyed, with a deep cut on his cheek. “You’re not a Death Eater,” he states.

Alastor laughs shortly. “No, rather the opposite I’d say.”

The young man just looks at him questioningly.

“I’m an Auror,” Alastor clarifies. “Head of the Auror’s office at the Ministry.”

“That can’t be.” The young man shakes his head. “That would mean...”

“You’re safe,” Alastor says.

The young man lets his head fall back on the pillow and closes his eyes, releasing a shaky breath.

After a short silence, Alastor finally asks the question that’s been at the forefront of his mind ever since finding the young man. “You’re Sirius Black, aren’t you?”

The young man opens his eyes again. “Yeah,” he replies.

“Everyone thinks you’ve been dead for at least two years.”

Alastor remembers the story. It was one of the first tragedies of the war. The disowned heir of the house of Black, only seventeen years old at the time, not even graduated from Hogwarts yet, murdered by a group of Death Eaters. The Black family was already high on the list of persons of interest, due to them advocating for blood supremacy and openly supporting He Who Must Not Be Named’s regime. Their eldest son, however, who had already been known as the first Black to not be sorted in Slytherin house, had fallen out with his family and hadn’t been living with them for over a year at the time of the murder. Or, well, alleged murder.

“Two years?” Sirius mumbles. “I don’t know whether it seems like yesterday that I was still living my old life, or whether being at school actually feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe both.”

“What I gathered from the story at the time,” Alastor continues. “Was that a group of students from Slytherin house had purposely leaked information to you that your younger brother was to be sworn in as a Death Eater, and without properly thinking it through, you left to try and stop him and get him away from that evil alignment.”

“I did,” Sirius simply replies.

“That was an idiotic plan,” Alastor says. “Going on your own to a place you knew would be infested with Death Eaters, to save someone you didn’t even know wanted to be saved.”

Sirius huffs a laugh. “You sound just like Moony when he was telling me not to go.”

Alastor doesn’t know what a Moony is, so he just continues. “You never came back. They caught you, or maybe it had all been a trap to begin with, as the Slytherins who spilled the information later all became Death Eaters, and maybe some of them had even already joined at the time. Either way, the word spread that you had been killed by the Death Eaters.”

Hogwarts had been in shock, Alastor remembers. Not only did the death of a schoolmate make the war suddenly seem so much more real, Sirius Black had been bright, promising, loved. It had been a blow to almost the entire school to lose him.

“That’s what happened. Well,” Sirius gestures vaguely at himself. “Except for the being killed part, obviously.”

“Why didn’t they kill you?”

“My irresistible charm?” Sirius attempts with a weak smile. “No,” he then sighs with a pained look in his eyes. “It was my little brother. He said he’d only join their cause if they agreed to let me live. Most of the Death Eaters just wanted to kill us both then, not deeming him very important anyway, but my parents didn’t have a second spare heir ready, so they couldn’t afford to lose another son. They convinced them to imprison me instead of kill me.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s the only time the power and influence of ‘The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black’ did me any good. Although I have often wished they had just killed me. Some of them ignored me, others liked to taunt me, and a few immensely enjoyed hurting me.”

Alastor feels a rare surge of empathy. It was a cruel fate indeed, to be locked up for so long under those conditions, and he had only been seventeen, barely more than a child.

“So how did I end up here?” Sirius asks.

“We placed a Tracing Charm on Goyle, and noticed he was regularly visiting a manor in the countryside, on paper owned by the Rosier family. This made us believe it to be an enemy headquarters, so we planned a raid. We disconnected the house from the Floo Network and placed an anti-apparition charm over the whole premises, before we invaded the place. Unfortunately, the ones present were in possession of illegal Portkeys, I still have to ask Mundungus Fletcher how they could’ve gotten those, and managed to get away. Upon searching the house, though, we found you locked in one of the rooms, severely injured and barely conscious.”

“Of the people I knew, is anyone... Do you know if anyone has been...?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Alastor answers. “To my knowledge, no one from your year at Hogwarts has been killed. I don’t think that there’s anyone you may have known among the victims.”

Sirius lets out a relieved breath. “I didn’t think there was either, as the Death Eaters would have jumped at the opportunity to rub it in my face had they hurt someone I knew, but still.”

“Of course, I don’t know about your brother,” Alastor adds. “As he’s not on our side.”

A flash of pain shows on Sirius’ face for a brief moment, but he quickly composes himself. “I’m sure Regulus is okay,” he mumbles. “If he’d been gone, I would’ve been dead.”

“The Ministry is doing a shite job fighting this war!” Sirius throws down the Daily Prophet on his bed. “Half of the people in this photo is either a traitor or under the Imperius Curse!”

Alastor glances down at the paper. On the front page is an article about Barty Crouch, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and his plan to fight violence with violence and legalise the Unforgivable Curses. The article is accompanied by several photos: Barty Crouch and his family, some other high-placed Ministry officials such as Augustus Rockwood and Walden McNair, and the heads of the influential Mulciber and Malfoy families, who are often thought to influence, or bribe, the Ministry.

Sirius is getting better, and he’s already proven his worth by passing all the valuable information he managed to pick up during his imprisonment on to Alastor.

“And the measures that they’ve been taking are hardly going to be sufficient to win this war,” Sirius adds.

“Well,” Alastor replies calmly. “Considering how corrupt the Ministry is, it’s a good thing they’re not taking more measures.”

“How can you care so little? You’re part of the Ministry, and forced to fight a losing battle.”

“That would be concerning indeed, if it was really the Ministry fighting this battle.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow, prompting Alastor to continue.

“There’s another group that forms the real opposition to He Who Must Not Be Named. A secret order of witches and wizards personally recruited by Dumbledore himself, fighting the Death Eaters behind the scenes.”

“I want to join,” Sirius immediately says.

“What you’ve been true is enough to traumatize someone for a lifetime,” Alastor says. “Are you sure you want to engage yourself even further with this war?”

“Bollocks,” Sirius replies. “I still have great magical skills and abilities, I was the best dueller at Hogwarts and I know better than anyone how these Death Eaters think and operate. You need me. You want me. You don’t give a crap about my emotional state, or you wouldn’t even have mentioned it.”

Alastor supresses a smile. Sirius is right. Alastor is eager to get him on board, but he felt like he had to at least symbolically offer him a way out, never expecting Sirius to actually take it. Truth is, his only goal is to win this war, by whatever means possible, and he doesn’t have it in him to care about an individual’s mental health.

“Very well then. Come to think of it, you might even see some familiar faces.”

“Lily, you look so...”

“Remus Lupin, if your next sentence contains the word ‘big’ or ‘huge’, then in Merlin’s name, I will hex you.”

“Eh... radiant?”

A very pregnant Lily rolls her eyes as she sits on the couch across from Remus. “I’m a bloody whale, I’m completely bloated and I feel like I’m just peeing all day.”

“Isn’t she just glowing?” James appears at Remus’ side, staring at Lily like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, which she probably is.

Remus chuckles. “You’re a very lucky man, Prongs.”

James sits down next to his wife, and Peter sits down next to Remus, while they all wait for the Order meeting to begin. The Prewetts arrive shortly after, and Marlene and Dorcas rush over to Lily to ask her a thousand questions on how she’s feeling. James just stares with an adoring, fond look, while Lily describes in detail how all her bodily functions have changed now she’s so very pregnant.

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Peter says.

Remus tries not to show any change in expression, but he can’t help his smile slightly faltering.

Unfortunately, Peter notices. “I mean, of course you know... I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s fine,” Remus says curtly. “Don’t worry about it.” His time of being young and in love is over. Yet, he doesn’t resent James for his happiness, just because his was taken away from him. After all, he knows that for James as well, not a day goes by on which he doesn’t miss him.

Professor McGonagall walks over to Lily to ask her about her due date, and Lily happily informs her that the baby is expected to be born this summer.

“From this September on, you’ll have eleven more years to prepare for Gryffindor’s next trouble maker!” James says.

“James Potter,” Lily scolds. “We agreed to not pressure this child about which house he should sorted into. That already goes into effect before he’s born.”

“Honestly professor,” James whispers too loud to professor McGonagall. “I already love this kid so bloody much. I wouldn’t even mind if he’ll end up in Slytherin!”

McGonagall chuckles. “You know, James, you really don’t have to call me professor anymore.”

James looks absolutely horrified at the idea.

Remus is glad they still see professor McGonagall so often. He doesn’t think he would’ve been able to make it through his last year at Hogwarts without her.

He’s always happy to see her, even though each time it reminds him of that one conversation. At first, he had been angry at him that he had gone anyway, and angry at himself for not realizing that of course he’d go anyway. Then, there had only been the anxious waiting for him to come back, until McGonagall had called Remus, James and Peter into her office and with more distress than he had ever seen her in, told them that he was not going to come back.

James had immediately started crying. Heart-wrenching sobs that went through the bone for the loss of his closest companion, his best friend, his brother. Remus had felt... nothing. It was like he heard the words, understood what the words meant, but did not comprehend what the words implied.

He hadn’t just lost someone he could talk to, someone he could trust, someone he could hold on to. He had lost a small home somewhere on the countryside just outside of London, with large fireplace in the living room and a small shed outside for the motorcycle. He had lost a large garden with an aviary for the owls and enough space for the dogs to run around. He had lost taking time off from working as a teacher and a Healer to spend a few weeks by the coast each summer. He had lost summer evenings in the garden, inviting friends over for a barbecue, a small Quidditch field in the backyard, little children running around. He had lost a future he never thought he could actually have, but had set his heart on anyway.

It took a week. A week of feeling nothing. A week of seeing the worried stares and hearing the constant whispers from his schoolmates. A week before the pain and grief hit him at full force.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by Marlene’s voice. “Remember, when Moody gets here, don’t mention the Rosier manor-raid.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yes, McKinnon. I don’t have a death wish.”

Remus shakes his head. “I can’t even imagine how pissed he must be about it. All that planning, just for each and every Death Eater to get away.”

“He’s gonna be livid,” Marlene agrees. “This is not gonna be a happy meeting.”

“I was so disappointed when I heard it,” Lily sighs. “It felt like we finally had something on them, and now we have to start all over.”

Remus wonders what kind of missions they’re going to assign people to this time. Lily has scolded him before for always volunteering for the most dangerous ones, but to Remus it seems perfectly logical. If he goes, his friends don’t have to go, and he has the least to live for anyway. He said as much one time. James had cried and Lily had yelled at him, so he doesn’t say it anymore. At least not out loud.

It isn’t long before Moody enters the room, looking as battered and grizzled as ever, and commands the meeting to begin. Everyone immediately gathers around the table, as no one, except Dumbledore and McGonagall when it’s absolutely necessary, dares to oppose Alastor Moody.

“Right. We have much to discuss,” Moody says in his growling voice. “First point of order, I’ve gotten confirmation regarding our suspicions about Mulciber, and we should from now on assume that each person working in his vicinity is under the influence of the Imperius Curse and cannot be trusted. Moreover, I received intelligence that Augustus Rockwood, Walden McNair and Barty Crouch Jr. are traitors.”

Everyone sucks in a breath of surprise and disbelief.

“Mr. Crouch’s own son?” McGonagall asks. “An accusation like that can put us in a lot of trouble. Where did you get this kind of intelligence, Alastor?”

“I obtained it from the Rosier manor-raid,” Moody replies, and another wave of surprise goes around the table. No one had expected Moody to bring up the failed attempt himself.

Remus frowns. He has never underestimated the enemy and he knows the Death Eaters aren’t stupid enough to leave a list of names of everyone who’s secretly a traitor. And if they did, it can only be a trap, but Moody must know that better than anyone.

“How?” McGonagall asks, apparently on the same train of thought.

Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”

Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

James has gotten pale as a sheet and Lily has automatically grabbed his hand, while Peter is throwing worried glances in Remus’ direction. Professor McGonagall has her lips pressed tightly together, and is looking at Moody with a look that clearly says ‘you better have a very good reason for this’.

Moody, completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, just keeps talking. If his previous words had been shocking, it’s nothing compared to the effect his next words produce. “You must have heard of it, I believe some of you were at Hogwarts when the whole ordeal took place. As it turns out, he was actually held captive by the Death Eaters. We found him locked up in the Rosier manor in quite a state, but we managed to patch him up, and he was able to give us quite some valuable information.”

Remus hears the words, but can’t process their meaning. He just stares, waiting for Moody to say ‘just kidding’ or wake up from this dream. Nothing happens for a long moment, until Marlene breaks the silence. “But everyone gave the same account... They all said... How?”

Moody makes a dismissive gesture. “There was some family drama involved I believe. But he can tell you himself in due time. He has agreed to join the Order, actually.”

“You’re lying.” Moody finally looks up at hearing James’ angry tone. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”

“Calm down, Potter,” Moody replies. “We can talk about it after the meeting, if we must.”

Remus only realises he has stood up when he notices everyone looking at him. He gives Moody a steely look. “Let me see him.”

“Lupin, we’re in the middle of a meeting. We still have much to discuss.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your damned meeting!” Remus shouts. “Let. Me. See. Him.”

Moody regards him for a moment, and then nods.

Maybe Moody is tricking them as a test. Maybe Moody is delusional and there’s no one there. Maybe someone has tricked Moody and is leading them into a trap. Maybe Moody is under the influence of the Imperius Curse himself and is leading them into a trap. Remus goes over every option in is head as he, James and Lily use the Floo network to go Moody’s safe house. Every option except one. The one he doesn’t allow himself to even think of.

He realises that many option would put them in immediate danger, but he only cares for James and Lily’s sake. If this really is a cruel trick, it’d almost be a relief to be killed right after. Even without allowing himself to hope, he couldn’t handle the disappointment.

But they step into the room, and there he is.

In the living room, fast asleep on the couch, covered by a thin blanket. One hand dangling over the edge of the couch, the other on his stomach, his chest softly going up and down in time with his breathing.

He’s less muscular and a lot thinner than before. His face looks very pale in sharp contrast with his dark, now very long, hair, with a healing cut on his cheek and a receding bruise under his eye.

But it’s him, unmistakably him.

Odd enough, the first thought that occurs to Remus is that he has always wanted Sirius to grow his hair out and that he hopes he doesn’t cut it too soon. At this moment, he seems unable to form any other coherent thought.

Suddenly, he feels James’ hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him forward. “Go to him.”

Remus stumbles forward. He falls down on his knees next to the couch in front of Sirius’ face. He reaches out a trembling hand and touches Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius’ eyes, those eyes nothing can compare to, fly open. Startled, Sirius sits up with a bewildered look. He first sees James and Lily standing there, looking at him.

“Prongs? Evans?”

Then he turns his head towards Remus, and his eyes, filled with emotion, widen.

“Moony?” His voice slightly breaks.

“Hi,” Remus whispers.

Sirius reaches out and gently strokes his thumb over Remus’ cheek. Remus only now realises that there are tears streaming down his face. They stare at each other for a breathless moment. Then, at the same time, they move and wrap each other in an impossibly tight embrace, both whispering unnecessary apologies, as neither thinks there’s anything to forgive the other for.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a stubborn arse, I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t even say goodbye. I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I meant to come back. I always meant to come back.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t come and get you. I’m sorry I never came to bring you home. I gave up on you, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Eventually, James can’t hold back anymore and he flies forward to embrace is brother, and upon seeing him desperately crying, Sirius starts to cry as well.

When he’s more composed, James starts asking Sirius a hundred questions to check if it’s really him. Sirius effectively shuts him up by informing Lily that James stole one of her T-shirts in fifth year and slept with it in his bed for two years.

“I hate you so much, Padfoot! And I missed you more than you’ll ever know, and don’t you ever leave me again!”

This exchange is followed by Sirius going on for ten minutes: “Evans, you’re pregnant. You’re pregnant with a child. Prongs’ child. Evans, you’re pregnant with Prongs’ child. You’re having a baby. Prongs is having a baby. You and Prongs are having a baby. Together. You let Prongs get you pregnant.”

All the while, Remus is still sitting on the ground next to him, their hands firmly clasped together.

Eventually, they have to go back to the Order meeting, and of course want to inform the others. Peter will be ecstatic and professor McGonagall might cry. Lily kisses Sirius on his cheek and James hugs him again, after letting him promise five times that he’ll still be there tomorrow and he’s not going to disappear again.

“You know, Moony, if you want to go to the Order meeting, you’ll have to let go of my hand,” Sirius says with a small smile, without making any attempt of releasing his grip himself.

Remus smiles back. “No, I’m never letting you go again.”

[slowly-writing]

Almost Lost You

Jennifer Jareau x Reader

Word count: 2.3K

Requested by: n/a

Warnings: canon typical violence

This case was stumping the entire team. The dump sites had seemingly no correlation, so Ried’s geographical profile was out the window. The MO was all over the place which made it hard to nail down a profile on the unsub. The only thing that proved these murders were connected was the flowers the unsub was leaving in the victim’s hand, and even with that you were beginning to question it all.

“Does anyone else feel like their brain is melting?” JJ groans and you feel inclined to agree.

“Your brain can’t actually melt. You could boil the water in your brain but the fatty tissues that make up the majority of it are harder to break down,” Spencer says and you smile, at least his facts are always consistent.

“That’s not what she means, Spence. It’s a metaphor. She means she’s tired of getting nowhere with the case and she feels like all the work is physically hurting her,” you explain and he nods in understanding, looking at JJ whose head is now laying on the table of the conference room the three of you have hunkered down in.

“Did you know it’s actually proven that fresh air can increase productivity and reduce stress?” Spencer pipes up again and you chuckle as you rise from your seat, grabbing JJ’s shoulders and coaxing her up.

“Good call doc. I think I’m gonna take her outside for a bit before she puts that brain melting theory to the test. You take a break too, alright? Even geniuses have a breaking point,” you wait until he agrees to stop for a bit to lead JJ outside.

“It just feels so messy. Like there’s no way to get through it all,” JJ has tears in her eyes as she looks up at you and your heart breaks at her obvious frustration. You often wonder how JJ got into a field like this, so painful and gruesome. She has such a tender heart, if you had met her outside of work you would’ve guessed she was a teacher, maybe a social worker, but certainly not a profiler whose job was to hunt down some of the worst people the world had to offer.

“I know it feels like this will never end, but it will. I promise it will, because we’re not going anywhere until we catch this creep. Hotch and Emily are interviewing the victim’s families again as we speak and Morgan and Rossi are at the crime scenes. They will all get us some more to work on and eventually we’ll nail this guy.”

“You promise?” JJ’s voice is soft and you can’t resist the urge to pull her into your arms, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“I do. Are you ready to go back in?” JJ nods and you pull away, “then let’s go crack this case.”

xxxxx

“Rose Allen, Jessica Phillips, and Sara Parker have been found dead. Now I don’t know about you guys but I sure as hell don’t want a fourth name added to that list,” Morgan snaps, slamming his hand on the table. You all look up from your notes at the outburst, and none of you blame him. JJ grabs your hand under the table and it calms you both as tensions rise in the room.

“What do you think we’re doing here? None of us want this to go on. We’re trying our best,” Emily knuckles are turning white as she clenches her first.

“Okay let’s all calm down. If we all put our head together then we can crack this. So, the women disappear from their daily routines, they are gone for a week before being found in various locations with different causes of death. What does that tell us?” Hotch starts the discussion and everyone settles in to work.

“He’s obviously stalking them. He knows their routines and is able to grab them without anybody seeing,” Rossi is the first to join in and you nod along.

“And the manner of the killing isn’t important to him, as long as they die. With victim number one we have strangulation, then stabbing, and last dehydration. He doesn’t care how they die as long as he can see them suffer,” your brow is furrowed as you think out loud.

“The flowers obviously mean a lot to him, right? It’s the only consistency,” Emily jumps in and everyone voices their agreement.

“They’re yellow roses. Those symbolize friendship, maybe these women told him they just wanted to be friends?” JJ says and you think she’s onto something until Spencer speaks up.

“Historically yellow roses have a different meaning. Now they are known to symbolize friendship but they actually used to stand for infidelity or unfaithfulness. He could’ve had a childhood trauma involving an unfaithful individual that still haunts him,” Hotch perks up as Reid finishes.

“Rose and Jessica’s family members said they were having relationship troubles, Sara’s family didn’t have much to say, but with how hostile her fiancé was, I’d bet my career that their relationship was rocky,” the analysis makes sense, at least it’s a start.

“Okay, so we have an unsub targeting people whose relationships are failing. Considering he targeted the girls I’d guess they were the ones who were unfaithful, who would know if they were?” Rossi asks and you all think through the list.

“If it was me I’d only tell my closest friends,” you say and try not to wince at the way JJ’s head snaps to face you. “I’m speaking hypothetically of course. I’ve never cheated so I don’t know what it’s like in that situation. I can only make an educated guess on the thoughts and feelings the victims were having in the moment,” you stare ahead as you say it, nobody knows you and JJ are together, and this is not how you want them to find out. “That was a poor choice of words,” you say and Emily raises an eyebrow at you.

“Ignoring y/n’s over explanation of how she’s never cheated on anyone,” Emily says slowly and you avoid eye contact. “None of these women shared friends. Garcia couldn’t even find evidence that they knew each other, let alone had the same confidants.”

“When Will and I went through all that we went to a relationship counselor. Is it possible they saw the same one?” JJ asks and Garcia pipes up for the first time.

“I can have that answer in just a few moments,” the sound of a keyboard can be heard through the computer, “aha! According to their credit card records they all saw Dr. Damien who is a well renowned relationship counselor in the area. She was, however, out of state for a conference when Rose and Jessica’s bodies were found and did not return until after Sara was reported missing.”

“It could still be someone in her office. Receptionist, coworker, hell even a janitor,” Morgan seems as desperate as you all feel.

“I have a receptionist who was working during all three intake appointments, Jacob Daniels and-oh gosh-At age 8 his father murdered his mother, in the trial he claimed it was because she was cheating with the neighbor who denied the allegations. Regardless there was no family and Jacob bounced around the foster system until he aged out five years ago. Three months ago he landed a job in Dr. Damien’s office and within a month and a half the first murder was commited,” Garcia relays the information, her eyes wide.

“That would be the stressor. Hearing about the failing relationships was too much for Daniels and he snapped. Garcia, do you have an address?” Hotch asks as you all stand, grabbing your gear.

“Like you even have to ask. Be safe my lovelies,” Garcia tells you all as she ends the call.

xxxxx

“Jacob Daniels FBI! Open up!” Hotch yells as he bangs on the door. You hear a crash inside and Morgan takes that as his cue to kick open the door. You’re the first inside and Daniels freezes when he sees the guns trained on him. He may be damaged, but he knows he can’t outrun a bullet. Instead he grabs a knife and points it towards you.

“Stay back!” He yells and you raise your hands, holstering your gun before speaking.

“I just want to talk, Jacob. Can we do that?” you ask and you can see him shaking as he looks between you, Morgan, Hotch, and Ried. Everyone else is still en route.

“They needed to die,” Jacob starts and you blink in surprise as he jumps straight into it.

“Why?” he focuses more on you, relaxing despite the three guns still pointed at him. You inch forward as he begins to talk.

“They didn’t know how to love. No woman knows how to love!” He yells.

“Now that’s not a fair statement, plenty of women know what love is,” you say and you can hear the other team calling their ETA through the comms, but you’re hoping to have this wrapped up before the three minutes it will take them to get here are up.

“Do you? Know how to love? Do you have someone?” Jacob’s voice is soft, almost a whisper as he desperately tries to prove himself wrong. You’re only a few feet away now, and he’s slowly lowering the knife. If you can just get a few inches closer you can grab it.

“I do. She is the most important person in my life.” Out of the corner of your eye you can see the confusion on your team’s faces but you don’t have time to focus on them right now. “I can’t tell you why someone would cheat on the love of their life, but I can tell you I never would. A few bad people isn’t a reason to give up on love or life. They hurt people, but they didn’t hurt you Jacob,” his head snaps up and you quickly realize that was the wrong thing to say. He lunges for you and before anyone can get a shot off he has your back pressed to his chest and his knife to your throat.

“Woah calm down man!” Morgan yells, his panic alerting the rest of the team that this just went south.

“Let her go, Jacob,” Hotch’s words inform the team that he has you, the only female in the room. He doesn’t waver though, ever the calm one in the storm. You can hear the tires of the other SUV squealing to a stop outside. Lucky for you so can Daniels and you use his distraction to slam your eyebrow into his ribs. His grip on you loosens and you’re able to take him down. Morgan takes over, cuffing him as you feel a body slam into yours. JJ throws her arms around your neck and you wrap one arm around her waist, the other cradling her head as you let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m okay,” you tell her and she lets out a shaky breath before pulling away from you completely.

“You idiot!” she yells slapping your shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” your hand goes to the place she just smacked, though it didn't hurt much.

“Why would you get so close to him! He could’ve killed you!” She slaps your other shoulder and you groan.

“But he didn’t. I thought I could disarm him, but it's okay now. So can we just agree it was a dumb move and stop hitting me please?” you ask and JJ pulls you into a hug again. You wanna laugh at her conflicting emotions, but you know how scared she is.

“I almost lost you,” she whispers and you sigh.

“You didn’t. I know it was scary, but I’m okay.”

“I could hear the whole thing.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise that I’m okay. You didn’t lose me,” you tell her and she nods, pulling away again. The bubble the two of you have been in is popped as you both turn to see the whole team staring at you, Morgan apparently having passed Daniels off to local officers to make sure you were okay.

“How long has this been going on?” Morgan asks and you look to JJ.

“Six months?” you ask her and she nods. You turn back to the team and nod, “yeah, six months.”

“How did we not notice?” Rossi asks and you laugh.

“I was thinking the same thing. Some profilers you are,” JJ teases them but they all seem to be in too much shock to register it.

“So when you went on that rant about not cheating…” Emily trails off and you roll your eyes.

“Did seriously none of you notice how she was looking at me? I thought I was gonna be the next murder victim!” They all laugh and JJ looks at you.

“You ever cheat on me and you will be,” she says simply with her arm wrapped around your waist and a smile on her face.

“How do you say such aggressive things but look so cute doing it?” you ask, wrapping your arm around her shoulder and placing a kiss on the top of her head. “But I would never cheat on you, my love. I’d have to be an idiot to risk losing you. There’s nobody in the world I’d rather be with.”

“As cute as this is, I’m ready to get out of here,” Morgan teases and you roll your eyes.

“Let’s finish up here and we can talk more on the way home,” Hotch says and you all nod.

“And we know Garcia is gonna want all the details, I wouldn’t mind them either, so drinks when we get back?” Emily offers and you agree.

“Sounds like a plan.”

tag list: (let me know if you want to be added or taken off)

@rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff

Criminal Minds tag list: @reidingandwriting

[butgilinsky]

honest man // tt

warning; language, underaged drinking, and mentions of smut if you squint real hard, a little angst, mostly fluff

summary; where you and topper are hiding from the world, even if one of you wishes you weren’t. based on the song honest man by ben platt

word count; 3.2k+

There's something about you in the moonlight But your eyes go so well with the day You won't let go of your layers But your power can strip me away

“why are you staring at me like that?” 

it wasn’t his fault. the way that the moon casted a blue light across the high points of your cheeks and shoulders had him realizing just how deep in it he was with you. he’d never seen a person glow the way you were glowing right now, and he would’ve given everything to stay like this, with you, forever. 

“you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.” you didn’t think you were capable of smiling so wide. the ache in your cheeks was quickly over powered by the slight dizziness your mind brought upon by his confession. 

the two of you had only been together for a little less than a year, but he swore he’d spent ten lifetimes pining after you. sure, you both had been with people before you ultimately ended up together, but that felt like an entirely different lifetime. 

topper thought he had fallen in love before. he thought that he had experienced the greatest heartbreak when he’d caught sarah cheating on him. he thought that was the pinnacle of how it feels to get everything stripped away from him, but the sheer thought of losing you was ten times worse than what he had felt back then. 

“topper thornton, you’re quite the charmer.” 

this was his heaven. having his arm wrapped around your back, pulling you against his chest while your own arm hooked around his neck. having your bright smile directed up at him in a way that had his heart beating at a mile a minute. he swore he’d never felt anything as sweet as the feeling of your lips pressed against his lightly, just enough pressure to call it a kiss. 

he felt you smiling against his lips, though he didn’t mind as his own lips turned upwards at the feeling. he swore he would’ve traded everything in his life for you to kiss him like that for the rest of your lives. 

“i love you.” the words were soft and sweet, but it felt like they held the world within them. it was enough to make topper’s stomach flip, the thought of having the girl of his dreams let the words drip off of her tongue so easily felt like a dream to him. 

It's easier for us to hide If you come out, then so will I Promise that I'll meet you halfway 'Cause I see every part of you And I can tell you see me too By the way that you say my name

“do you ever get tired of hiding?” topper hated sneaking around the island with you. he wanted to go anywhere and everywhere with you. 

sure, it was exciting at first. doing things in secret, having you all to himself, it was a dream. he wouldn’t have done anything different, but he was growing tired of keeping you a secret. he was tired of being a secret. 

topper wanted everyone to know. he wanted to tell his friends that it didn’t matter that you lived on the wrong side of the island. he wanted to see your friends’ eyes bulge out of their sockets when he took your hand in public. he wanted to show up to the boneyard with you under his arm, and he wanted everyone to stare. 

“sometimes, i guess.” you shrugged simply, slipping one of topper’s long sleeves over your head before turning over your shoulder and crawling back up to him. 

he sat against his headboard, eyes locked on you while you moved up to sit beside him. his chest still bare from the moments prior to now, taking in the sight of his shirt hanging off of you as if it had been made specifically for you to wear. 

“so why are we?” his voice was soft, the fear stepping in with every word he let slip. he was scared of ruining things, scared he was pushing too far. 

“you know how that would end, top.” he sighed softly, figuring you’d say something of that sort. he knew where you stood on the issue, having far more to lose than he did. 

he knew rafe and kelce would get over it. they’d tease him for a bit, but accept you with open arms. he knew kelce liked you, despite the fact that you were a pogue, because he had said so once or twice. rafe didn’t care for you, solely due to your class ranking, but topper knew that out of all of the pogues, rafe would pick you for his best friend over the others. 

your friends, on the other hand, would not accept this deal with open arms and wide smiles. your friends would throw a fit, shocked by your betrayal of falling in love with a kook. you knew it shouldn’t have mattered, given kiara’s technical kook status, along with the fact that john b had been involved with sarah for over a year now. 

but it didn’t matter. if anything, having sarah in your group made it that much harder. sure, if john b loved a kook then so could you, but what happens when sarah and topper have to spend time together? topper wouldn’t care, because he hadn’t thought of sarah in that light since before the two of you had gotten together, but you weren’t sure the blonde bombshell felt the same way. 

“maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you think, though. i mean, what if they don’t even care-” he stopped himself, seeing the deflated look on your face as he spoke. he didn’t want to push you, but he didn’t want to hide either. “we’re in it together, y’know?” 

you nodded, settling your cheek against his chest. you hear him let out a sigh through his nose, only making the thoughts in your mind race more than they had already been. 

I'm an honest man Why can't you take my hand I'm not what you planned But I'm a safe place to land I'm an honest man

you hadn’t expected to fall for topper. you were just trying to assure him that he didn’t deserve the hurt that sarah had dumped on him. nobody deserved that, kook or not. 

but it’s now, as you stand across the beach from the boy who had managed to steal your heart and sweep you off your feet, that you realize you’ve made a mess for yourself. 

all he wanted to do was hold your hand as you walked to the keg, swiping beers from jj, who was dishing them out for the night. he wanted to have his arm around you, as a silent tell to anybody with a pair of eyes that you were taken. you were off limits, and it killed him that nobody knew that. 

“earth to top.” rafe snapped his fingers in front of topper, shaking the boy from his thoughts and tearing his eyes away from the group across the beach. 

“what? sorry. what’s up?” he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts that were invading his mind for the past few weeks. 

“just go talk to her. something’s clearly bothering you, has been for weeks.” kelce shrugged his shoulders, raising his cup to his lips as he downed the rest of the golden liquid. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” topper tried to wave them off, claiming that he had no knowledge of what their allegations were hinting at, but his friends weren’t stupid. 

they’d caught topper looking at you on more than one occasion. the fact that topper had a crush on you at the very least was anything but a secret to the two boys that spent way too much time with him to believe otherwise. rafe had also connected the dots one night when topper blew them off, again, for some mysterious set of plans he wouldn’t say much about. 

kelce and rafe knew. topper hadn’t told them, and there was room for error in their hypothesis, but they knew topper too well. they knew him better than he’d ever assumed, so a ten month relationship was harder for topper to hide than he’d originally thought. 

“topper, what do we care if you’re shacking up with a pogue? sarah left your ass for one, kelce and i have our fair share of our nights with pogues. who gives a shit, dude?” topper’s eyes snapped over to rafe’s for a moment, slightly shocked that he was anything less than an asshole about the whole situation. 

it took everything in him to stop himself from spilling the truth to his friends. they saw the way his knuckles turned white from gripping his cup tightly, his eyes locked on you, just yards away. 

you were dancing with pope, a reasonable distance that allowed topper’s mind to ease ever so slightly. but the way you smiled, the way your hips moved in a fluid motion, and your laugh filled the air, was enough for topper to want things to go as smoothly as you’d asked many times before. 

“i seriously don’t know what you’re talking about, rafe.” 

You're so afraid of tomorrow So you build your walls up today You won't believe that you're ready But I'd never lead you astray

��you’re never going to be ready if you don’t at least try, y/n!” you groaned again, balling your fingers into your palm to stop yourself from lashing out on the boy. 

“you just don’t get it, topper!” he could see the gears in your head turning, he knew your mind was racing but you were biting your tongue from saying what you were truly thinking. 

“what don’t i get, y/n? i love you! isn’t that enough? what else do i have to do to show you that i don’t give a shit about what your friends think?” you groaned loudly, feeling the lump in your throat slowly subside as the tears poked at your lash line. 

“i care what they think, top! i love you, topper, i really do, but i just- i can’t do it, top. not right now, at least.” he scoffed then, a sarcastic smile pulling at his lips before he ran a hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up from this nightmare. 

“what’s the worse that could happen, y/n? they don’t like me? i already know they don’t! i get it, i have a past with them, but how’s it any different than john b being with sarah?”

“see! you don’t get it! this is the same shit you always spew when we talk about this.” 

“then help me get it, y/n!” his voice was back up, screaming across the room to reach your ears, though you would’ve been able to hear him all the same if he had spoken at a normal tone. 

“i can’t, topper!” 

“why not?”

“because you’re a fucking kook!” 

topper’s face dropped, his shoulders slumping as a sarcastic laugh dripped from his face. of course you’d go there. you always went there. it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, it was pretty obvious that he was a kook and you were a pogue, but he didn’t need the constant reminder that the one thing he couldn’t change about himself was your least favorite thing. 

the thing that was holding you back from telling the world about your relationship. 

“and you won’t let me forget it.” topper grabbed his things, not even bothering to slip his shoes back on before he was walking out of your house, slamming the door behind him hard enough to make the windows on the same wall shake slightly. 

you let out a frustrated scream, one that he heard even out by his car. he paused in stride, having half a mind to turn back around and comfort you, suspecting that your cheeks were wet with frustrated tears while you chewed angrily on your bottom lip. 

but he didn’t. he just got back in his car and drove the distance from your house back to his on the opposite side of the island. 

I know I've played with hearts before Don't have the heart to play with yours I only swear to do the best I can 'Cause when you put your trust in me How beautiful our love could be If only you would take a chance

you’d heard the stories about topper long before you’d fallen for him. you’d spent too much time listening to random tourons, the repeats and the newbies, swoon over the boy who caught their attention quickly. 

after sarah spending more time with the pogues, it only got worse. you’d heart the mess of it all, practically having the notion of topper thornton being kook trash ingrained into your mind forever. 

you knew he’d done less than redeemable things. he’d done unforgivable things to your friends, and you’d never let him forget that. 

but your topper was nothing like the stories. he was gentle and kind, soft and sweet. he noticed the little things, and helped you when nobody else noticed you were in the mess of it all. he was there for you when nobody else was, and he provided a sense of comfort you’d never found in the pogues. 

topper, your topper, was the brightest light in your life. sure, you had walls built up, but he’d done everything in his power to break them down. he’d never hurt you, and you knew that. you knew he loved you with everything he had, and you returned the sentiment easily. 

you weren’t scared of how things would end between the two of you. you were afraid of the outside pressures. you were afraid of your friends’ disapproving glares and harsh words. you didn’t want the criticism that came along with dating topper, but you couldn’t pick and choose any longer. 

if you didn’t decide what you wanted sooner or later, you were going to lose topper, and the thought alone was enough to have you in tears for multiple nights afterwards. 

you had to choose between topper and your secret. there was no more hiding. 

I'm an honest man Why won't you hold my hand? I'm not what you planned I'm a safe place to land I'm an honest man See me as I am, show me that I can You make me an honest man

you knew he was on the golf course. it was friday, which meant a 12 pm tee time. you’d been with this man long enough to know his weekly routine, and golf was always written into the schedule. 

to say you were nervous had to be an understatement. your ripped jeans and crop top that you’d already worn once this week was a stark contrast from the rest of the people on the course, all dressed in recently dry cleaned polos and khakis, or tight tops and tennis skirts. 

you were walking around the course with no sense of direction, not having been on the course since the last time you helped pope deliver groceries, but that had been months ago. 

you didn’t know where the boys were teeing off from, since topper never told you that. there was no use of you knowing which hole the started and ended on, but it would’ve been useful information right about now. 

you swore the sky had opened up and handed you a gift on a silver platter when you caught sight of rafe’s tall stature on the green. he was laughing loudly at something that kelce had said, giving you enough of a hint to find him quickly. his eyes found yours, a smirk stretching across his face as you changed your path to walk directly over to the boys. 

“top, your girlfriend’s here.” rafe called out, stopping topper mid swing. 

he turned over his shoulder, muscles tense and face pulled together in confusion as you jogged across the course. he was confused, not having seen you in a few days at this point, along with never seeing you on the course in the entirety of your relationship. 

“what the hell are you doing here?” he wasn’t mad, that much was obvious enough, but he was surprised and confused. 

“i don’t want to hide anymore.” the words were falling from your lips before you could stop them, a sense of exhaustion hanging heavy in your mind as you begged him to connect the dots himself. 

“what? but i thought you said-”

“fuck what i said. i don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. i don’t care about anybody else’s opinion but yours, top. i love you and i don’t care who knows about it.” 

topper swore he’d never smiled so large. the realization sunk in quickly, resulting in his head filling with too many thoughts to decipher. to have you there, standing in front of him, telling him everything he’s wanted to hear for the past ten months, was more than he ever could’ve asked for. 

“you sure?” you laughed softly, eyes flicking over his shoulder to meet rafe and kelce’s gaze, who were both biting back gentle laughs. your nose scrunched softly, a sight that topper would’ve paid to see at any moment of the day. 

“it’s a little late for me to rethink all of it, don’t you think?” you lifted your chin in the direction of his friends, making topper look over his shoulder for a split second before rafe was waving his hand in front of him. 

“we’ve known for a while.” your eyebrows pulled together, confusion evident in your expression. “kind of hard not to pick up on it when he can’t keep his eyes off of you for longer than five minutes.” 

“alright, alright.” topper laughed gently while turning back to face you, trying to end the slightly embarrassing moment for him. “i’m serious though, are you sure? because i don’t care about-”

“i’m sure. i don’t want to hide anymore. if my friends don’t understand, then fuck them.” you shrugged gently, a wide smile spreading across your lips. “i love you, topper.”

“i love you too, baby.” 

“just kiss already, so you can take your shot and we can move to the next hole.” kelce called out, earning a soft snicker from rafe and an eye roll from both you and topper. 

topper broke out into an equally large smile, wrapping both of his hands, one gloved and one not, around your cheeks to bring your face close to his. your eyes shut before you felt his lips on yours, a sense of euphoria flooding through you on impact. 

you loved topper with everything you had, and he loved you all the same. the two of you might have been hidden form the world for the first part of your relationship, but you had a feeling that’s what made the two of you so strong. 

sure, the pogues might have had a problem with it at first, but if they were your friends they would get over it eventually. your happiness should’ve been a priority of theres.

it sure as hell was for you. 

I've said all I can I am who I am And I am an honest man

[jenonctcity]

My Addiction - Part 2

Differences – Lee Donghyuck

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au

Warnings: Explicit Content, Fighting, Mentions of Blood, Drugs.

Word Count: 6.1k

Haechan had started his day off by waking up at the early time off 11am, which wasn’t early at all, but to Haechan that was an early start. After he’d laid in bed and scrolled through his Twitter feed aimlessly for a solid half an hour, he decided it was time to do something productive. He left his room, went for a pee, brushed his teeth, then decided he felt gross so had a quick shower, jerked off in the shower, got interrupted by Jaemin complaining he was taking too long, argued with Jaemin through the bathroom door, got dressed, had some toast, and finally sat down on the sofa with his phone in his hand ready to scroll through his Facebook feed.

“So,” Jeno’s voice made him look up from his phone, looking over at the blond-haired boy who had a dark bruise on his jaw from where your fist had connected with it. He held back the small smile that tried to fight its way onto his face and he wondered if your knuckles were sore at all from the brief encounter. “Why did you sweep (Y/N) away so quickly last night?” Haechan raised an eyebrow at his friends’ word, lowering his phone as Jeno now had his full attention.

“How do you know her name?” He asked, not having any inkling of an idea as to how Jeno knows your name.

“She went to our school.” Jeno shrugged. Haechan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, how comes Jeno could remember you from school but he couldn’t? Him and Jeno spent nearly all of their time together in school, so when did he notice you?

“Yeah, I know that, I just didn’t think you’d remember her…”

“Anyway, are you two dating?”

“No!” Haechan quickly denied Jeno’s allegation, not wanting him to think that he was dating someone. Haechan didn’t like to date women. Instead he preferred to fuck them and maybe do it again sometime. He didn’t see the point in being tied down to someone when all he wanted to do was fuck other women. He didn’t want to end up like his father and cheat on his significant other, he refused to stoop that low. So if he didn’t have a girlfriend, then there was no one to cheat on. He has had girlfriends in the past, but they didn’t last long, mainly because they were too clingy and wanted his attention all the time.

“So you just took her home? But you were gone for ages.” Jeno seemed persistent with wanting to know what the two of them had been up to. Haechan didn’t particularly want Jeno to know he fucked your brains out in the back of his car, just in case Jeno knew something about you from school that he didn’t know. Something like you used to lick peoples lockers or some shit that is embarrassing.

“Erm we got hot chocolate and then I took her home. I had to calm her down, you had really pissed her off.” His words were kind of true, so he didn’t feel too bad about lying to Jeno. After he’d dropped you off at your home, he’d received a text from you, a few more messages later you’d both established a friends with benefits kind of relationship. “So anyway, what did you do to piss her off? She wouldn’t tell me.” He neglected to tell Jeno that the only reason he didn’t know why you’d punched Jeno was because he was too busy flirting with you and trying to get in your pants to have asked.

“I stood her friend up.” He shrugged with a sigh, before both of them turned their attention to the tiny toddler who came running into the room, with Renjun following close behind her.

“Who is going to be the best Uncle and watch Jiyeon for me for an hour?” Renjun asked with a smile on his face. The small baby that was starting to look more and more like her father every time Haechan saw her came running up to him with a smile plastered on her face. She’d only been waking for about a week, and she’d gotten a good grasp of it, running around everywhere and making it hard for everyone to keep tabs on her.

“I think she’s picked Uncle Haechanie.” Jeno sniggered, standing up quickly. “Besides I’m going to the gym, she can’t come with me.” Haechan groaned, but reached down and picked Jiyeon up anyway, setting her on the sofa beside him.

“1-hour Renjun and then I’m putting her up for adoption.” He spoke with a deadpan expression, but everyone knew he was only teasing, and he could end up watching her for multiple hours without caring.

“Deal. Just don’t give her to Jaemin.” Renjun laughed, quickly leaving with Jeno following him. Haechan looked down at the toddler sat beside him, letting out a long sigh before changing the television channel onto a kid’s cartoon.

---

It took you a few days to get over the overwhelming come down that had you teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. But you didn’t know what you expected, you always had the same experience after taking drugs, but that never seemed to stop you from taking the drugs. You burrowed yourself away in your house and called in sick to your dreary job at the local café which you hated more than anything. But after leaving school without achieving anything to prove your intelligence, you were stuck with a crappy job that barely paid your rent. But once you were over your headache, nausea, and paranoia, you decided it was time to get some dick…and some more drugs. You collected the money you’d saved up and shoved it in your pocket, putting on a simple pair of grey sweatpants with a black, long sleeved top that clung to your body. It was simply, but sexy. And you hoped Haechan thought the same thing. You didn’t bother texting him, deciding to surprise him with some sex. Men loved to be surprised by sex. Well that’s what you assumed.

After walking for twenty minutes you found yourself stood outside of the familiar doorway, running a hand through your hair and giving it a ruffle to try and bring on the sexy aura as you waited for someone to answer the door. You put on a subtle pout and put your hands on your hips as you waited. But as the door opened, you visibly deflated, a short, irritated sigh leaving your lips as your eyes laid on Jeno. He looked you up and down, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing a white, sleeveless shirt that showed off his muscular biceps, completely clean of any tattoos. You knew he could probably throw you through the wall on the other side of the hallway, but he didn’t seem to want to kill you unlike he had after you’d punched him. You then noticed the white wraps he had around both of his hands and the sweat that dripped down the side of his face, his blond hair sticking to his forehead.

“Is Haechan here?” You didn’t bother greeting him, still pissed about what he did to your friend Leah.

“No.” He shook his head, running one of his hands over his head to push back his hair. “Do you want to come in? I want to ask you something…” Your first reaction to Jeno’s invite was to crease your eyebrows in confusion, your next reaction was to shrug and let yourself into the apartment, completely waking past him and navigating your way through the hallway to the living room. Jeno raised his eyebrows in surprise that you didn’t put up a fight and just let yourself in. He shut the door and followed you, seeing you sat on the sofa and making yourself comfortable before he sat beside you, keeping a space big enough for another person between you.

“So, what do you want to ask me?” You sat crossed legged on the sofa, keeping your eyes on Jeno in case he tried to pull anything as it seemed like no one else was in the apartment apart from the two of you. He slowly started to unwrap his hands, but kept his eyes on you, looking you in the eyes as he took a deep breath. You noticed the very faint bruise on his jaw from where you’d punched him and tried to hold back a smirk.

“Before I ask you anything, I’d like to apologise to you for how I acted last week, I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you for you sticking up for your friend when it was me who did the shitty thing and stood her up. So yeah, sorry about that. By the way, I would never had hurt you. I would never physically hurt a woman.”  This had your face contorting into a smirk as you decided to lay the pressure on the boy sat beside you.

“So if you were fucking me from behind and I asked you to spank me, you wouldn’t do it?” Jeno almost choked on his own spit as your words hit his ears. His thick eyebrows raised, and his head darted forward slightly, a confused noise leaving his throat as he processed your words.

“I-I…well yeah…erm…anyway,” He stuttered over his words, blinking a few times as he tried to change to steer the conversation back to where it had started off. “I’m sorry…” You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it was hard to imagine that this is the boy who had shown nothing but aggression towards you upon your first encounter with him. You remember him from school, but you hadn’t ever spoken to him, so you had to count last week as your first interaction with him. The boy that sat in front of you had soft eyes and a low, but soft tone to match his eyes.

“You’re forgiven. But you’re banned from going on any dates with my friends. Understood?”  Your voice showed a lot of dominance which had a smile tugging at his lips as he nodded his head in confirmation.

“Yes boss…So are you and Haechan dating?” He put the wraps he had on his hand on the coffee table in front of you both and flexed his hands out, the veins prominent and causing your eyes to dart towards them. Your eyes trailed up his arms, noticing that the veins were showing on his biceps and forearms as well. He had a really good physique, and it was obvious to you that he worked out. You let out a soft laugh and shake your head.

“No, we’re just friends.”

“Oh, cool.” He turned his body more towards you once he was 100% sure that you and Haechan weren’t dating, because although Haechan had already told him that the two of you weren’t dating, he was pretty sure that his younger friend was lying to him. “I didn’t think that the two of you spoke at school.” This had your ears pricking up. Whenever anyone mentioned that they remembered you from school you always felt your heart rate speed up in anxiousness.

“We didn’t…did he tell you we did?” Your voice was now weaker, your courage dwindling as you tried to play it cool not wanting him to see your internalised panic.

“No I just assumed that you did because we all went to the same school.” You quickly shook your head and cleared your throat.

“You remember me from school?” You weren’t sure you wanted to hear his answer, but you’d already let the words slip from your mouth, so it was too late.

“Yeah, I spent a lot of time people watching. You were quiet, nose always in a book with your uniform perfect, you sat alone at lunch and I remember that you punched a girl in the nose before you disappeared. And the next time I see you you’re punching me in the face too.” He let out a laugh, clearly finding the circumstances ironic. “No one knew why you disappeared, to be honest not many people talked about it.” You bit your bottom lip and glanced down, feeling the rush of reminiscence as it came to you. It didn’t feel good though, in fact it left a horrible taste in your mouth. You felt slightly touched that Jeno had remembered you though, not many people you encountered from high school since leaving actually remembered that you went to school with them.

“I got kicked out. That’s why I disappeared.” Your voice was softer and Jeno could sense that he touched a nerve. He smiled slightly and let out a soft sigh.

“You haven’t got to explain yourself to me if you don’t want to.” He reached out, hesitantly placing his hand on your own as it sat on your knee. You looked up in surprise, your eyes flicking from his hand to his eyes. There was something about the blond guy that made you feel safe and secure, and it wasn’t just his physical appearance. You hardly knew him, but as you looked at him it was hard to believe that this was the man who had the heart to stand up your friend. You could see that he was genuinely curious as to why you got kicked out of school and ended up where you are now. A thought popped into your head, and before you could filter it, it was already leaving your lips.

“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me why you stood Leah up.” You felt his hand squeeze your own, before he lifted your palm into his and shook it like you were making a deal.

“Deal.” He dropped your hand and instead placed his hand back in his own lap, his other arm laying across the back of the sofa behind you, almost like he had his arm around you.

“The girl I punched was trying to spread a rumour around that I had chlamydia, I confronted her, and she started to laugh in my face. I’d had enough of people thinking I was just a weak, quiet girl, so I punched her. Of course the teachers came running and next thing I know, I’m being kicked out for aggression. I got a job at a small restaurant and met this guy…” You paused as the thought of your first boyfriend came into your mind. He was the only guy you’d ever dated, and once the relationship was over, you’d decided not to commit to another man that could break you in the way he did. You took a deep breath and looked into Jeno’s eyes. “He was sweet at first, but then after we started sleeping together, he changed. I then found out he was addicted to drugs, he’d do all sorts, but it was mostly heroin. I made the mistake of trusting him, and the sex turned…awful. I started to smoke weed just before we’d have sex so I wouldn’t really be focused on it.” You felt your throat tighten, but you willed your emotions away, not wanting Jeno to see your weakness. “In the end it wasn’t enough, and I’d steal some of his cocaine just to put up with the sex.”

“Why did you keep having sex with him then?” Jeno piped up before you could continue on with your story.

“He would get violent if I didn’t…in the end he got locked up for drug dealing just after I broke things off with him.” It felt strange telling somebody your story, but it also felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

“Asshole.” He mumbled, his fists clenching as he looked away from you, not wanting to see the pain that laid behind your glistening eyes. But it then occurred to him that you were probably looking for Haechan tonight because you wanted what he was known for selling.

“Yep…” You awkwardly smiled, your palms sweaty as you rubbed them against your sweatpants to try and dry them. Jeno didn’t try to dig anymore, instead deciding to steer your mind away from your own past by holding up his end of the deal.

“I stood Leah up because I had a fight that I needed to go to, also because I didn’t really feel like going on a date that evening. I know it’s a shitty excuse, but I didn’t think about how it would hurt her feelings.” You let out a laugh and bit your bottom lip. Jeno tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched you. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because Leah’s feelings weren’t hurt. She was just mad that she wasn’t going to get any dick that night, so she pretended she was upset when she called me to rant.” You shrugged and watched as his smile grew, his eyes slowly becoming less visible as you noticed his eyes turned into crescent moons when he found something amusing. “She’s a bit of…hmm…how do I word this? ...she likes to sleep around basically, and she’s over it now. To be honest you probably dodged a bullet, she’s a bit of a nightmare with men.”

“So why did you punch me?!” He laughed along with you.

“Because I thought she was genuinely upset at first! Then I told her what I did, and she told me that she wasn’t that bothered. I was being a good friend!” You tried to justify your actions, but Jeno didn’t look like he cared that much that you’d hit him. In fact he seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing.

“You have one hell of a punch on you for a gi-” He was cut off by your fist colliding with his arm. “Ow!” It didn’t hurt him, but he pretend it did and rubbed at the spot you’d hit.

“For a girl?! You deserved that one.” You shook your head, amusement still evident on your face. You weren’t offended by the sexist remark he was about to make because you could tell it was all in jest.

“Okay fair enough, I was only joking by the way, I know how many girls who could probably put me on my ass.”

“You said you fight? What do you mean by that?”

“I do underground fighting. It’s not legal, but its good money. And I’m good at it.” He smirked, clearly proud of himself for his work. You opened your mouth to reply but before you could the sound of men’s voices and the front door closing echoed throughout the apartment. You and Jeno both turned your attention to the doorway as Haechan, Jaemin, and Renjun came through the door. You remembered Jaemin from when he answered the door and nearly felt your wrath the week prior. And you remembered Renjun from school. The more you looked at Jaemin though, the more his face looked familiar to you from when you went to school together.

“You’re back early.” Jeno raised an eyebrow as they all made themselves comfortable on the sofas. Haechan’s eyes attached onto you and stayed focused on you when he realised who the girl was sat beside Jeno. He frowned, jealous that you’d been alone with Jeno, his possessiveness shining through despite him not really having any attachment to you. His eyes didn’t fail to notice how Jeno’s arm was on the back of the sofa behind you either, making his frown deepen. He flopped down between you and Jeno without any shame, prompting Jeno to remove his arm from the back of the sofa.

“We got kicked out of the club.” Jaemin spoke, kicking off his shoes and relaxing back on the sofa cushions, the television remote in his grip.

“Why?” Jeno asked with confusion evident on his face.

“They thought we were snorting coke in the toilets.” Jaemin shrugged and turned on the television, not taking his eyes off of it as he spoke to Jeno.

“Were you snorting coke?” You asked with an amused tone in your voice. Jaemin suddenly turned his attention towards you like it was the first time he’d actually noticed your presence. He sniffed and cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the television.

“…Yeah…” He mumbled causing you to let out a short laugh. Haechan cleared his throat, turning to look at you. He gave you a look that said he was confused, and you assumed he was confused about your presence. You stood up and smiled awkwardly.

“I’m going to get going, see ya.”

“Wait I’ll drive you home.” Jeno stood up too. You didn’t notice but Haechan gave Jeno a look that could kill.

“It’s fine you don’t have to!” You felt bad that he wanted to drive you home, not wanting him to go out of his way for you.

“Actually,” Haechan stood up, getting between the both of you subtly. “I have some things I want to speak to (Y/N) about, so I’ll take her.” He put as much dominance in his words as he could, and Jeno just shrugged. You didn’t bother arguing, not really caring which one of the boys took you home. But you could kind of sense the testosterone levels rising in the air, as if the two of them were about to have a pissing match. Just as Haechan started to lead you out of the room, Jeno called out to you.

“(Y/N) wait,” He rushed over to you, pulling phone out from his pocket. “Give me your number and I’ll text you. Just in case you wanted someone to talk to or if you ever get into a sticky situation.” You glanced up at Haechan, see that he averted his hard gaze so that he wasn’t watching either of you. But you also noticed that his jaw was clenched.

“Sure!” You smirked, taking his phone and saved your number into it, passing it back to him. You thought it was funny that Haechan was getting this possessive and jealous over his friend when he was the one who was fucking you, not Jeno. “Bye Jeno.” You both said your goodbyes and Haechan pulled the front door shut with a loud bang.

“Why were you there with Jeno?” He didn’t waste time in asking you the burning question that was on his mind, his hand on your wrist as he guided you down the many stairs to the entrance of the apartment building.

“Well,” You started, but paused as you got into his car, pulling on your seatbelt before continuing. “I was there for you; thought I’d surprise you with some pussy.” You shrugged, looking over at him to see his reaction. He bit his bottom lip, starting the car up before looking at you. He had lust burning like a fire behind his dark eyes, it only being visible from the streetlight that he was parked underneath. He licked his bottom lip, starting to drive as erotic thoughts ran through his head.

“You’re a dirty girl, that doesn’t answer my question though. Why were you with Jeno?”

“Are you jealous?” You shot right back at him, making his jaw clench again and his knuckles to turn white as his grip on the steering wheel got harder.

“No. Answer the god damn question (Y/N).”

“Fine! He just apologised for standing my friend up and we got talking. That’s it. He’s really nice actually.” You could tell that your words had relieved some of the tension in Haechan’s shoulders, his body visibly relaxing as he realised that nothing happened between his friend and his fuck buddy.

“Yeah he is…” He sighed, not really wanting to feel hostile towards the man that was more like his brother than his friend. “Did he tell you he remembers you from school?”

“He did…we talked about that.” You didn’t really want to go through the whole story again with Haechan, but you wanted to get it out of the way with, so you cleared your throat nervously and gave him a brief run down about your past like you had with Jeno. He listened to you, stopping outside your apartment complex and turning to face you.

“Is that why you wanted drugs when he fucked?” He looked down at his lap, not really knowing how he should be feeling about everything you’d just opened up to him about. He felt a bit sick now that he knew why you wanted drugs, but he didn’t feel like he could be the person to tell you to stop doing them, not knowing you well enough to feel like he could do that. He felt a little bit numb but hid it well.

“Yes. I just relate sex with being high. I only told you because I didn’t want Jeno to tell you and then you would be mad because I didn’t tell you.” You shrugged, taking off your seatbelt. “Anyway, thanks for the ride.” You opened the door but paused when Haechan piped up.

“I understand, but you don’t have to do that when we have sex. I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I just want you to know that.” He gave you a soft smile and it was the first time you’d seen him be so sincere and sweet. It made your heart flutter in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. But you ignored it, knowing it was dangerous to let your heart do that in response to something a man had said, a man who you only had a sexual relationship with.  “Besides, I can make you feel good enough that you don’t need that shit.” You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Thanks…hey do you want to come in?” You let out a gentle laugh and winked at him. “Put your money where your mouth is?” He let out a laugh, a smug smile on his face as he thought about your offer. He opened his door and got out of the car, the two of you walking up to your apartment together, his hand resting on your ass.

---

Weeks flew by, and you found yourself splitting your time between work, getting your back blown out by Haechan, and spending time with Jeno. Haechan didn’t know that you were spending time with Jeno, and Jeno didn’t know that you had been riding Haechan’s dick four times a week. It didn’t matter to you though, because you didn’t think either of them needed to know. Jeno was just a friend, and Haechan was just a friend you fucked. Who you chose to spend your time with was neither of their concerns. What you had noticed was your growing affections for the drug dealer that you shared a bed with. There was something about how he was kiss you just before ravaging your body that caused your stomach to fill with butterflies. It scared you. But you knew that you’d broken the one rule you’d set aside for yourself. The rule of not catching feelings for Haechan. But it happened so quick that you couldn’t stop it. He was a gentle lover…sometimes. And you felt like you had a constant craving for the feel of his lips on your own. No wonder they say that love is like a drug, it’s addictive, and you felt like you could stop taking all the other drugs you did in favour of having Haechan. You wanted to do more than just have sex with him, like hold his hand, go on dates, get food together. But you couldn’t tell him this, it would more than likely scare him away, and then you wouldn’t have him at all, which was worse than supressing your feelings for him. Sometimes you thought that maybe it would be better if you had caught feelings for Jeno. He was a caring man, and you really enjoyed his company. Which is why you found yourself going on a date with him. The date went well, but you still couldn’t force yourself to feel romantic feelings for Jeno. You didn’t have the heart to tell him this, so you just ignored his messages for the past 24 hours and hoped he didn’t see you as you snuck into Haechan’s room the night after.

Haechan had your legs over his shoulder, jackhammering his hips into yours as you whined from the intense feeling of your orgasm slowly building, like a fire having fuel splashed over it. The bed squeaked underneath your bodies in time to Haechan’s hard cock hitting all the right places inside of you. Beads of sweat trailed down the side of his face, the vein in his neck prominent as he put all his force into the motion of his hips.

“Fuuuuck.” You whimpered; your arms pinned above your head on the pillow by one of his hands. You wanted to touch him, but he was restricting you from doing so, so instead you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to cope with the ministrations he was doing to your body.

“Jeno can’t fuck you like I can.” He grunted into your ear unexpectedly, causing your stomach to drop.

“Huh?” You were confused as to why he suddenly brought up Jeno while he was balls deep inside of you.

“The way he looks at you, you don’t see it, but I do. He wants to do to you what I’m doing to you so badly baby girl.” His voice was low, and you moaned involuntarily as the ball inside of you wound itself tighter, your orgasm knocking at the door. You didn’t want to tell him that you did in fact see the way that Jeno looks at you. He looks at you with affection and infatuation in his eyes. Of course you’d seen it, but Haechan hadn’t been able to see past his own jealousy to see that Jeno wanted more than just to fuck you. It surprised you that Jeno hadn’t even told Haechan about the date he’d taken you on, but you didn’t really want to message Jeno to ask him why.

“I’m yours.” The sultry way that those wicked words left your lips had Haechan letting out a high-pitched whine, his hips stilling as his cock released hot ropes of cum inside of your warm walls. He continued to ram his hips inside of you after he got over the initial feeling of his orgasm, your own high rocking through you like a raging bull as your toes curled and thighs started to quiver on his shoulders.

“Yeah, you are mine.” He growled, slowly pulling your legs from his shoulders and grabbing the towel he’d left on the floor from his shower the night prior. He cleaned the both of you up before he pulled a joint out of his bedside table. He lit it and took a long drag before he laid in bed beside you, pulling you to his bare chest and holding the joint to your lips. You took a puff and released the smoke into the air. This is the closest thing to affection you’d ever had from Haechan, and it was merely some cuddling after sex. “Why didn’t you tell me that you went on a date with Jeno?” His question shocked you, because you assumed he had absolutely no idea about it. You gulped, your stomach flipping as your words got caught in your throat. “He really likes you, how the hell could I crush my best friend by telling him that I’ve been having sex with you for the past month when he finally finds a girl that he likes?” His voice had a tone to it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but it left you with a guilty feeling in your stomach.

“He told you this…?”

“Yes, after he got back from your date last night. I had no idea you’d even been spending time with him…” He took another drag of the weed and let his head fall back against the pillow.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you; I didn’t think it would matter.” You awkwardly played with his duvet, guilt sitting heavy on your heart.

“I don’t care. Date whoever you want,” Those words turned your guilt into hurt. You wanted him to care. It made you wish even harder that you felt things for Jeno and that you were in Jeno’s arms, purely because you knew he cared for you. “I just feel bad for Jeno…” You didn’t respond to him, instead letting the haze of weed take over your body as you took another drag from the joint.

“Haechan have you heard from (Y/N) at all?” The voice sounded just before the door opened. “I haven’t hea-” Jeno paused in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob as his eyes landed on you and Haechan, naked…in bed…together. “What the fuck?!” His face hardened, his eyebrows scrunching up and his jaw clenching. You gasped, quickly jumping out of bed with the duvet on your body, completely exposing Haechan as he jumped up from the bed on the other side. Your eyes widened as you stared at Jeno, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to form words.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Haechan spoke, pulling on his boxers and a t-shirt quickly.

“Then what the fuck is it huh? Kinda funny how I tell you that I like her, then suddenly she isn’t replying to my texts, and now I find you in bed together!” Jeno’s voice raised, anger prominent on his features as he approached Haechan.

“Back off Jeno.” Haechan wasn’t afraid to stand up to Jeno and it shows, despite how much aggression and intimidation Jeno was showing in that moment. You hadn’t seen this side of Jeno since the night you’d punched him, and you forgot how scary he could look. You stayed silent, knowing you couldn’t do anything to cease the fight about to happen.

“Fuck off. You’re supposed to be my fucking friend and you pull this shit.” Jeno shoved Haechan hard, to which Haechan responded by clenching his fists and getting in Jeno’s face.

“Stop!” You cried out, watching with worried eyes, but neither of the men paid any attention to you.

“I’ve been fucking her for the past month, and you didn’t even know.” Haechan whispered, a smirk playing on his lips as he taunted Jeno, not meaning to be horrible to his brother but not wanting to be showed up like that in front of you. Jeno raised his fist and within the blink of an eye the two of them were throwing fists at each other like teenager boys fighting over their crush. Instead of two men fighting over a troubled woman.

“Stop!” You screamed, tears filling your eyes as you watched Jeno shove Haechan up against the wall, clearly winning the fight with his experience. You didn’t even notice when Renjun and Jaemin ran into the room and separated two of them, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cried for the first time in over a year. Jaemin held Jeno back, and Renjun held Haechan back, as both of them struggled to get to each other. Haechan’s nose was clearly broken, blood streaming down over his lips and Jeno having hardly any damage to his face.

“You need to fucking choose (Y/N). Me or him?” Jeno shouted at you, causing you to flinch. All four men went still as their eyes trained on you, still stood in the corner of the room with the duvet bundled up to your chest. You shook your head, unable to process your thoughts as you looked between the two men. One of them not showing that he had any feelings towards you, and that you were just a body to keep his bed warm when he wanted it. The other a soft-hearted man who looked at you like he could give you the world. You were trying to choose between heartache or love. A love that could potentially end up in heartache as you didn’t feel the way he felt towards you. “Pick one!” He was getting impatient, his voice cracking as it started to dawn on him what had happened. Haechan wiped at his face, smearing the blood as he watched you.

You continuously looked between the two of them, gripping at the fabric of the duvet tighter and gulping as you spoke. Before turning to the man you decided to choose.

“I choose you…”

---

Hey! Thanks for reading! What do you think is going to happen next? Let me know your thoughts, I love feedback so please tell me what you think.

[plutoswrath]

i’m sorry to annoy you with this again. i just look up to your kpop mixed with astrology content. but lucas’s neptune contact with his mc is going to annoy the shit out of me until this is fixed. the cloudiness that neptune brings to his public image is something that i think possibly fuels these situations further. false accusations and mixed perceptions based off of them is exactly what makes these scandals to continue on and on. and i’m sick of it. both sides ignore what the other is saying and it gets nowhere. neptune, the malefic bastard.

Hello! I saw your recent asks and I appreciate your words regarding my content, thank you so much for the kind words! <3

I will touch on astrolgy under the cut, but before this happens, I want to leave a few words. There's a reason why I didn't answer the previous questions I received (not only yours op) regarding the Lucas situation so far. For several reasons I didn't want to feed into any sort of (perceived) sensationalism in regards to the Lucas situation, even though I'd really love to look at the situation from an astrological point of view. That people are divided on this topic is to be expected, but I think the way it has been handled by majority so far is very bad. I really want to elaborate on my reasoning why we should rethink the way we talk about/represent the Lucas situation right now, but as this topic is very kpop specific everything will be under the cut.

My reasoning for avoiding any questions about it until now:

1. People already don't take the situation seriously enough: Regardless of what your standpoint is, I'd like for people to consider looking at it from a more critical point of view for a second: The allegations are not about him being exposed as ‘just a f-boy’ as some people make it out to be, they are more serious than that. Lucas allegedly manipulated and used these women for his own emotional/sexual/financial needs and ego boost. The fact that he has money and allegedly still used other people to provide financially for him just demonstrates the power play underneath it all. He abused his position of power as an idol, the power dynamics between him and fans who idolize him are plain and simple just completely off. Please think about the fact, that he allegedly decided who to date on at fansigns. This alone gives no security to any fans that want to attend fansigns in the future. TW SV: he also talked one of these women into having sex with him + doing it unprotected, which is not only emotionally/sexually manipulative/coercive and can possibly be traumatic for them but also heightens the risk for transfering STD's as END TW he was supposedly seeing people at the same time/cheating. In general, the behavior he gets accused of leaves trauma and is abuse, to be more specific abuse of power on multiple levels and his social position makes it just easier to continue abusing that power. As you've mentioned yourself op, there is a huge back and forth about the allegations, and I know people like to take situations like the one of Taeyong as an example to justify that not every public apology is real and that allegations turn out to be false years later, but I believe it's different this time and that the allegations that came forward were real. Even his cbar closed, a fanbase that works closely with Label V (!), that alone shows that there is 'at least' some truth to the story, or else his hardcore fanbase wouldn't have decided to turn their back on him in matters of just days. Also, all the 'jokes' and the portrayal of 'juicy gossip' people make about the situation just downplays and ridicules the possible traumatic experiences of the people that were hurt by his actions. If anyone decides to not believe these allegations until SM gives a more specific statement, that's fine, but please do so without making fun of the people who were victims of his behavior, as there is already little to no sympathy for them online. It makes it just way harder for any survivors in the future to speak out on their experience. People say it's 'nothing illegal, just morally wrong' but given the fact that he is also a person in power, the line between 'just' morally wrong and illegal can be very thin in some cases. And please overthink arguments such as: 'this is typical boy behavior for someone in his 20's'/ 'he's just an f-boy' or 'boys will be boys' because they are deeply misogynistic and we shouldn't normalize behavior like that, thus making the root of the problem actually way deeper than most people think.

2. WayV's future: This mainly goes for people who are fans of WayV. I know not everyone probably likes to hear this, but another thing why wild speculations, sensationalism or even possible defence about this situation should be kept on the low is WayV's career. I want to be honest here, but I'm scared for their future, their comeback for october has been cancelled for now and they are put on a hiatus for several months as far as I know. They were on a good path of gaining more and more recognition and establishing themselves even better as a c-pop group, but now Luca's reputation in China (their target audience) is as good as gone and that pulls all of WayV down to rock bottom with him. People really need to try seeing the story out of the eyes of the korean and especially chinese fans as well, their perception of the allegations (especially after the Kris Wu situation!) are way different and more serious than the ones of i-fans and i-fans have to accept that. Also, we all know how companies (especially SM) handle these type of situations: keep the people on the low till the storm has calmed down. But will the storm ever calm down for Lucas when his public image is basically destroyed, and thus WayV as well? What I want people to understand is that this whole situation affects WayV and their career directly, actually on the biggest scale possible. All the work so far is at risk to be for good and I think a lot of fans tend to forget that, things look especially critical for HenXiaoYanKun if WayV would be to continue/redebute/fall apart. It doesn't matter if Lucas talking bad about the members/the companies/shows he works with/for was real or not in the end, because unfortunately damage is already done, WayV's image (WayV= family) is already tarnished and WayV as a group will suffer from this. You summed it up with malefic Neptune the best actually: We all don't know the full confirmed truth about the situation and will most likely never know it. (small astro insight here as well, but part of Neptune is to accept fantasy for what it is: fantasy, and thus turn to cold reality when you're in too deep)

3. What O'd advice the fandom to do right now: Regardless of your opinion on the situation, what we as a fandom can do best right now is staying on the low, wait things out, and stop adding more fire to the situation with our actions and wait how the situation actually developes, since a) we can not fasten the process and b) a lot of rumors, false information and unnecessary details get exposed to mudd the waters and to discredit the statement of the victims as well. I've seen some strong reactions from both sides, but as someone who's a big fan of nct in general I really just want to say that part of the fandom throwing a fit on the internet leads basically to nothing, it actually only reflects even worse on nctzens/weshennies and thus on WayV's (and also NCT as whole) image as well. Things right now are handled internal, not extern. Whatever gets through to the public will be half of the story anyway. A lot of people seem to forget, that we talk about SM and all they care for right now is saving themselves economically (think about the domino effect this situation has on the whole group/company), so we will have to see what their final decision is going to be, if anything will happen at all. For now, be patient, wait and see. Last words: It's okay to feel hurt/confused/angry/drained. Even though most of us are aware that we dont know any celebrity's character, it's still hard to swallow and to digest because you were a fan of that artist. Let it take time and vent. Take a break from it if it gets too much! Talking about it to process your emotions better is okay and very valid, but keep in mind that you should not worsen the situation by doing so - it's already absolute chaos.

Also: This statement is by no means a direct attack to anyone or me trying to push my opinion onto you, just my two cents in how to handle the situation best right now, because our hands are basically tied. Also: agree to disagree. If you don't like that I side with the victims (unless there is an official statement that Lucas is proven not guilty, which I doubt, unfortunately) then so be it, but don't start a war in my inbox for our opinions differing.

-------

Now, to astrology:

Disclaimer: This analysis will not be very light-hearted, but remember that it's just a theory and not me trying to confirm anything!

First of all op, sorry for just answering you know, but I neded some time to think through how to adress this without adding to the fire with my astrological analysis! Boy, does the birth time fit the shoe right now. To be fair as I did my short rising sign analysis about him recently, I cancelled out every other fire rising except for Leo, because I got stuck on the ego part a bit. Anything for me made sense, as long as it highlights his ego, which by itself doesn't have to be a bad thing automatically, but there's always two sides of the coin as we all know.

I looked into the transits the past week and added a few asteroids/mathematical points as well. An anon before pointed to the full moon happening in his tenth house, conjunct his sun, etc. (I deleted the ask because I didn't know what was going on at that time and thought it was just the 'usual' rumors that once in a while get spread around, but after looking more into it I decided this was not the right time to stirr the pot in any kind of way or treat it as funny, hot gos). But yeah a full Moon in Aquarius happening in his 10th house AND on top of that Saturn in Aquarius, conjuncting that Moon and his natal Uranus in the 10th! Talk about destrcution of any stable foundation and a change in a public image! Honestly, looking at astrologically the way his public image just got radically destroyed over night, with Saturn and the Moon having been in a conjunction (in his chart it was in the 10th house) is kinda eery even. Talk about collective consciousness - not only exposing quiet literally the feelings of the collective, but also doing so in the favor of others and gaining collective emotional consciousness. Take this with a grain of salt (!), because we're still in a tense situation, but I'm tapping into the darker, unfriendlier side of astrology now. Taking his confirmed birth time, he has Nessus in Sagittarius in his 8th house and as I saw that I could feel myself shifting into the surprised pikachu face. I am not saying that this prooves the allegations whatsoever, but as you seemed to be very interested in anaylzing the case in-depth as well, the allegations fit his Nessus - jumping from partner to partner, carelessness (regarding physical intimacy as well), making people share all their ressources with him/finacial gain, and basically the whole jist of gaining control/being in a power position in intimate connections. Keep in mind that this is only one interpretation of Nessus though, Nessus can also show the complete opposite to someone 'turning to their dark side'. On top of that, his Nessus was conjunct transit Phollus the past week, so if anything, we can see that a large event triggered him to 'open his eyes' and face anything of an 'obstacle' that hinders him from seeing the 'truth' to a larger picture and his own nature/destiny. Pholus can symbolize change that will alter your perception of the responsibility you have for yourself and others.

But my latest new interest with these two asteroids aside (asteroids just add a little more nuance to a situation after all), I want to touch on Lilith too, since you (op) have mentioned Lilith before in one of your asks!

He has his Lilith exactly conjunct his Descendant when we consider his confirmed birth time. What happened just now can be seen as 'backfiring' of his actions, either Lilith embodying the women who expose him now for his 'inappropriate' behavior, but also simply fans shaming him now for his alleged manipulative/imoral behavior, especially shaming him about who he chose to date and how. Next to that, you've mentioned Lilith opposite Moon and it just makes me think about him possibly feeling very indecisive and potentially in denial about what he actually needs to be fulfilled in order to be emotionally happy and thus leading to him appearing to have this 'second, dark side' to him now. BML is not necessarily opposite the Moon in my opinion, it's just the side of the subconscious we don't really like to deal with and all we're told not to express and desire because it can be conflicting in the eyes of others (thus BML also leading to a lot of recklessness on the negative side). I think if we take the allegations into consideration, regardless of how much of it is true of it, it can be a good example what happens, when an opposition gets out of balance, as it also manifests outwardly a lot! Lilith shows in his 'double life' aka what he allegedly did with fans. Lilith wanted an outlet and found one by working behind the scenes. If we take in his supposed Taurus rising, which his Lilith is in an exact opposition with, it's a good example of what can lurk underneath the surface.

And of course, last but not least, Neptune and Sun conjunct his MC. People are quiet literally blinded by him more than they would like to think. Also: Lucas was always known for his 'flirty & charismatic' nature, this is another reason why people think we shouldn't be surprised he 'turns out to be like that in real life'. I'm not analyzing this argument right now, but what I think is very interesting is how Sun conjunct MC literally ties a good amount of their personality to their career - they want to be accepted and shine for their personality/big part of their individuality. Idols play a role, no matter how transparent they appear to us, but it's really funny how this 'image' of him melts almost seemingly with parts of his personality (almost af if you were to quiet literally sell your self) and as you've mentioned: Neptune only adds to that, unfortunately.

[professional-bts-simp]

Birthday Debacle

Choi Yeonjun x Reader

Summary: One of the happiest days can turn into the worst one really fast.

Genre: Angst, some fluff at the ned

Warnings: Sad times, overthinking, implications of sex, Yeonjun being a dummy, but also kinda cute

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun peeked over the horizon on this extraordinary day, well extraordinary for you at least, it was finally your birthday and you couldn't wait to spend it with the people you love. Squirming around in bed you felt an incredible amount of heat behind you, turning your body towards the source of the heat you smiled at the other body that was lying beside you. He was peacefully sleeping, his face covered in yellow locks. You reached out your hand towards them, your fingers playing with his soft locks until he stirred in his sleep, opening his pretty brown eyes.

He gave you a bright smile, despite it being morning. You learned that your boyfriend wasn't really a morning person and you can't say you were one either, your eyes couldn't help but glance down at his teeth, you once joked that his teeth are so white they might blind you and he hasn't let it go ever since. Now he's even a little shit about it, teasing you by smiling and saying "You better put sunglasses on".

Now if you were wondering why today was so extraordinary and special it's because it was your birthday, your boyfriend hasn't said anything about it neither has he hinted he had something planned, but you knew he would. He wouldn't forget something so important.

You felt goosebumps arise on your skin as Yeonjun traced the outline of your body with his soft fingertips, a little shiver ran through your body as his fingers danced over your hip making you momentarily ticklish. He stopped his fingers and flattened his hand on your bare thigh giving it a little squeeze. 

"Last night was fun." Yeonjun's morning voice was deep and kind of gruff, yet you loved it nonetheless, if not more than his usual but you might just be biased. There was a teasing manner to his voice, an implication of last night's activities between you two.

"It really was," you smiled while kissing the tip of his nose. Moving closer to Yeonjun you put your head against his bare chest, listening peacefully to his heartbeat and focusing on his breathing as it elevated your head ever so slightly. Nothing was more perfect than this, lying in bed with your boyfriend, cuddling and snuggling together.

"I should get up to go shower." You mumble against the smooth skin of his neck, nose brushing against it as you took a deep breath of his scent. He always smelled so good, no matter if he was back from practise or if he washed himself, Yeonjun just had this specific smell that could calm you down even in the most stressful days. His chest moved up and down as he laughed, pressing a quick kiss against your forehead Yeonjun whispered, "Then get up and go shower babygirl."

You mumbled something incoherent but Yeonjun guessed you said "too lazy". He thought you were the cutest person to ever walk the earth no matter how many times Huening Kai protested that he was the cutest. Yeonjun loved you so much, and he showed it to you every day. By waking you up in the morning so you can go to your classes, sending goodnight and good morning texts, cooking for you, taking care of you when you're sick, you could name a million things he does for you and you are grateful for each and every one of them.

You opened your eyes again as you felt your bangs move from your forehead, "Let's get up babygirl." Was the thing Yeonjun said before throwing the blankets off your bodies and standing up. In his birthday suit. Butt-naked. 

Averting your eyes from Yeonjun's naked glorious body, you felt your face heat up, no matter how long you've been together, no matter how intimate you two get you'll always get flustered whenever he compliments you or flirts with you or when you think of him in an intimate way or any other way. He's a flirt and he knows it.

Picking up the T-Shirt, which he wore last night, from the floor you put it on so you weren't walking around in your birthday suit like your crackhead boyfriend. Walking towards the bathroom, looking like a double dead zombie, you try opening the door only to see it was locked. Knocking on it you heard Yeonjun's voice from the inside, "Yeeeeees?" You giggled at his silliness, "Honey are you going to be long? I need to shower."

"Yes I'm going to shower."

"But I said I'd do it first." You pointed a finger at your chest despite him not being able to see you, you heard feet shuffling and the door unlocking. Yeonjun's head popped out, his teeth biting his plump lips and his marker yellow hair over his eyes. "Well I got here first." He gave you a smirk to which you crossed your arms over your chest giving him a stern one back. Yeonjun's smirk only got wider as he moved closer whispering, "We could shower together."

Your face burst into flames immediately, your confident stance crumbling under his hungry gaze as your eyes downcast to the floor. Of course you weren't opposed to the idea of it, but what if you slipped and fell? Or got shampoo in your eyes? Or got water in your nose? Or-

"Baby?" Yeonjun's voice pulled you from your overthinking, snapping your eyes from the floor back to his which still held the same desire and lust but mixed with worry at your quiet state. Not trusting your own voice you nod weakly, his big hand engulfing yours as he led you to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Closing your laptop you rub your eyes to relieve them of the light you have been staring at for a few hours now, school was completely kicking your ass, but you wouldn't trade it for anything. Glancing at your phone for the one hundredth and one time in the past few hours, you frown at it again. No texts from Yeonjun. No calls. No nothing. You felt tears sprung against your eyes but you managed to contain them, just like how you were doing every time you checked. 

The same thoughts kept entering your mind. 

Did he forget your birthday? 

The ache in your chest only seemed to worsen the more you thought about it. Deciding to ignore and forget the loneliness you felt and take some action against it you call Soobin. Yeonjun said he'd be hanging out with his members, so they should know where he is for so long. 

After three rings Soobin picked up.

"Yeeeees," his cheery voice cut through the phone making you momentarily smile. 

"Hi Soobin, it's me." You heard him chuckle with an obvious 'duh'. 

"What's up?" There was shuffling on the other end as you guessed he moved from one place to another.

"Well I wanted to ask what you boys are up to."

Soobin went into explanation about how Taehyun and Kai are playing games while Beomgyu and him were getting ready to watch a movie. Your eyebrows were pulled into confusion, "And Yeonjun?"

"What about Yeonjun?"

"Well what is he doing?" There was silence on the other side for a few seconds, you could picture Soobin held the same confused face you and moments ago. "Yeonjun isn't here. He told us he'd be hanging with you today."

Now this was going from weird to suspicious. Why would Yeonjun tell you one thing and tell his members the other? You weren't one to accuse of cheating so that was way down your list, but it was very strange. "OH!" Soobin yelled into the phone loudly causing you to move it from your ear, "Happy birthday by the way." You heard a chorus of 'happy birthday' from the other boys which made you muster on a sad smile.

"Thanks Soobin, so far you're the first one to say that." And with that you hung up.

You flung yourself across the bed, arm covering your eyes as you let the stream of tears, you've been holding in all day, to finally fall down. 

Only one question was floating in your head.

Does he even care?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It has been five hours since you called Soobin and fourteen hours since you saw Yeonjun. A quick glance at the clock showed you it was now exactly a minute past 10 p.m.

Throughout the day you once again received no messages, no calls from your alleged boyfriend, you were very much doubting every word he told you about how he'll always be here for you, always take care of you, always make you feel better, but at this moment he was the reason for all your sadness.

The faint sound of door opening and closing speed up your heart rate. You suddenly felt nervous and fidgety. You didn't know if it was nerves from finally seeing him or nervous from knowing you'll have to confront him. Hearing the footsteps coming closer to the bedroom increased the sudden anxiety in your body. Yeonjun's handsome face emerged from the other side which made you smile slightly. 

Okay now focus, you're here to chew his ass out, not fawn over how pretty he is, no matter how fucking beautiful he was. You told yourself as you straightened your back and moved to sit criss-cross on the bed, eyes trained on him. 

Yeonjun's eyes widened as he saw you sitting on the bed, "Um, uh baby hi, I thought you'd be sleeping." You hate to admit it, but he looked somewhat guilty and all those insecurities and horrible thoughts you'd been pushing down came crashing down on you all in one.

"You know I don't sleep at this time." Your voice was distant and cold as Yeonjun picked up upon it and his face fell for a moment at your harsh tone, for a moment you felt guilty, but only a moment. This was your special day, it was your birthday and you couldn't even get a measly 'happy birthday' text from him.

Getting up from the bed you take a few steps towards him, "Where were you?" 

He cleared his throat before going over to the chair you threw all your stuff at and putting on the T-Shirt he slept in, "I told you, I was with the guys."

You scoffed. "That's a fucking lie. I called Soobin and he told me you didn't even come by them."

If you had to describe Yeonjun's expression it truly would be deer caught in headlights. He seemed stumped for an answer to your exposure of him and his lies, he cleared his throat, looking you directly in the eyes as he said, “You’re right. I wasn’t with the guys.” You felt another batch of tears coming up so you turned away from him and put your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. You didn’t know what to think now, should you give him a chance to explain? Should you throw him out? Break up with him?

“If you weren’t with them where were you?” You had to stop yourself from asking who he was with.

“I was out, in a bar.”

“Why?”

Yeonjun sighed, you could hear his footsteps as he moved closer to you, “I wanted to be alone. The company has been putting a lot of pressure on us, we have been working harder and getting stressed more often. I just wanted a day away, a day only for myself.”

“Do you know which day today is?” Your voice was only but a whisper, you were scared to know the answer he will give to your question.

“Yeah it’s Friday, May 15th.”

Yeonjun suddenly got very quiet, the cogs in his brain turning slowly. “May 15th, oh my god it’s May 15th, your birthday.” With no warning he slammed his chest into your back momentarily knocking you off balance, arms squeezing you tightly, his face pressed into your hair.

“I’m so stupid, baby, oh God I’m stupid,” he turned you around and began attacking your face in kisses, giving one big final kiss to your lips, “fuck baby I’m an idiot!” He kissed you again and again, hoping and begging you to forgive him for being such a forgetful asshole. Yeonjun's face was swarming in tears, seemingly unable to stop falling as he cradled your face in his hands, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs.  

"You are stupid and you are an idiot," you gave a laugh, "but you're my stupid idiot."

His face and eyes lightened up, now hopeful, "So you forgive me?"

You slowly grabbed his warm hands to hold in your own smaller ones, "I will admit I am still pretty mad, you did forget it after all." You gave him a sad look, a one which he reciprocated. 

Suddenly it seemed like something struck him, his expression growing happier by the second. Yeonjun gave you a quick peck on the lips and dashed straight for the living room. There was rummaging heard from inside of it for some seconds then he walked out, holding his hands behind his back. He stood in front of you, a small smile playing on his very handsome face. Yeonjun bit his lips nervously, glancing at the ground before making direct eye contact with you.

"Princess, I know I forgot your birthday and I feel terrible for it, but I love you so fucking much and I promise to be your personal butler for a week and that is only half of my apology gift. The other half is," he brought his hands in front of him, small black box in hand, "this." As Yeonjun said that he opened the box, a beautiful shiny silver ring stood in the middle of it.

Covering your face with your hands you laugh as tears of joy start falling from your eyes. You uncover your face to gaze upon the ring and your boyfriend, feeling an incredible amount of joy and love seeping out your heart.

"I've bought this a month before your birthday and planned on giving it to you, but like a dumbass I forgot." He chuckled.

"Now this isn't an engagement ring, but it is a promise ring," Yeonjun took it out of the box and he held it between his slender fingers, turning it around for you to see all of it, "and I promise to be the best boyfriend for you, to take care of you and to love you unconditionally every second of every day." He kissed the ring and slowly taking your hand he slid it on your finger. Upon closer look you could see the words 'I love you' engraved onto it.

You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder, Yeonjun immediately hugging you back as you sobbed out, "I love you too." And with that you forgave him.

[asongaboutpirates]

My Father is going to hear about this

aka a Drarry fic idea (that I don’t have time to properly write 🙄) in which Harry learns about Draco’s darkest secret and they bond over it.

Draco/Harry, angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, first kiss

I always had the headcanon that Draco said ‘My father’s going to hear about this’ so often, because it was the worst threat he could think of. Nothing terrified him more than somebody saying ‘Your father is going to hear about this’.

~*~

Nobody has seen what Draco‘s Boggart turns into because he successfully avoids facing it in class. After he dodges it for the third time, Remus takes him aside and explains that he can’t let him pass this year if he is not able to defeat a Boggart. He offers him private tutoring if he doesn’t want his peers to see what it turns into. Draco is hesitant, but finally agrees. He won’t fail, he can’t fail.

Truth be told, Remus is not terribly surprised when, in the privacy of his office, Draco’s Boggart turns into Lucius Malfoy.

And Draco just freezes. Every single time the illusion of his father sneers at him or raises a hand as if to strike, the boy becomes absolutely useless. He can’t even begin to fathom a way to make his own father appear ridiculous. It breaks Remus’ heart.

Suddenly, during their second or third session, Harry just barges in, wrongly assuming he has a Patronus lesson scheduled. He stops in his tracks, confused when he sees Lucius Malfoy glaring at him, even more confused when Lucius Malfoy turns into a Dementor and then into a full moon as Remus jumps between them.

‘Ridiculo!’ he shouts and the Boggart disappears.

They all stare at one another, until a red faced Draco pushes past Harry through the door and runs.

He runs and runs and runs. His darkest secret in the hands of his nemesis! He’s convinced that it’s going to spread like wildfire, that he’ll be Hogwart’s laughing stock and – even worse – that his father will find out. Oh, he’ll be furious when his carefully curated image of the perfect little family gets tarnished like that. But what is there to do? Draco just has to keep his head down and wait for it to pass. If there is one thing he has learned in the course of his life it’s that even the worst pain sooner or later turns into a memory.

But nothing happens.

One day passes, then another, a third… He gets more and more anxious by the minute, but everything and everyone seems to go their normal way. His fear turns to anger. What sick mind game is Potter playing? Why is he taunting him?

When he throws him glares across the Great Hall he sometimes catches him staring and quickly turning away. He’s convinced that the Golden Boy is working on a plan to make his life hell. It’s nerve-racking.

And still nothing happens.

It comes to a point where Draco can’t take it anymore, so he confronts Harry in an empty hallway and pushes him against a wall with force.

‘What are you playing at, Potter?’

Angrily, Harry wrestles free.

‘What the fuck, Malfoy?’

‘Don’t play innocent!’ He bites his lip. ‘Why haven’t you told anyone? What are you wating for?’

Harry stares at him in confusion, then a realization dawns on him.

‘Oh! You mean what happened in Professor Lupins office. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone.’

That catches Draco unawares.

‘What? Why?’

Harry tilts his head, his green eyes fixing on Draco’s.

‘Because I know what it feels like to be afraid of someone who is supposed to protect you and I have no intention to make it worse for you.’

‘What do you mean?’ The words are out of Draco’s mouth before he can stop them.

‘My aunt and uncle are my legal guardians, but they…’ Harry swallows heavily. ‘They really don’t act like it.’

The silence that hangs between them tells Draco more than words could. He had never known that about Harry Potter, the Golden Boy who everyone is doting on. Well, everyone in the wizarding world…

‘Look, if there’s anything I can do to help…’

‘Shut up!’ Draco can’t bear the pity in his enemy’s eyes, can’t bear the vulnerability between them. ‘Leave me the fuck alone, Saint Potter!’ he spits and storms away.

He continues to meet with Professor Lupin and continues to fail spectacularly. The fact that Harry Potter is on his mind even more than usual doesn’t make it better. Why does he have to be so reasonable and so kind and so sympathetic? Why does he have to be the only person in this whole fucking school who knows his secret and doesn’t only not despise him for it, but actually relates to him? Why does it have to be Harry fucking Potter?

‘How about we ask Mr. Potter for help?’, Professor Lupin suddenly suggests, after another failed attempt.

Draco just stares.

‘He knows about your Boggart anyway and I’m sure he can be very creative in making your father appear ridiculous. It might help you to get some input.’

He wants to scream no, but he doesn’t. There’s no way he will fail Defence Against the Dark Arts, because that would not go down well with his father… So he agrees.

Of course, Harry has tons of ideas how to make Lucius Malfoy look ridiculous and after initial qualms and hesitations Draco finds the courage to laugh at some of them. It takes a few weeks, but finally he manages to come up with his own versions. The first time he actually defeats his Boggart, Harry pumps a fist in the air and then goes in for a hug.

And Draco hugs back.

It gets awkward after that.

In Professor Lupin’s office, unwatched by the world, him and Harry had almost become friends, in a way, but lessons are over. What are they now? Draco realizes that the person who he had been taught was his mortal enemy had shown him more compassion and kindness than his alleged family ever had.

So they throw each other glances across the Great Hall, they accidentally partner up on assignments, because, darn it, they were too slow and everybody else was taken. Maybe Draco goes for a walk alone along the shore of the Great Lake and happens to stumble upon Harry who decided to read a book there.

Sometimes they sit together for hours and talk. Draco has never opened up to anyone like this, not even to Pansy. Harry already knows his most guarded secret – there is nothing that could embarrass him anymore in front of him. So they find out how much they actually have in common. Draco learns that Harry could have become a Slytherin and confesses that he had a similar discussion with the Sorting Hat. He had been so hellbent on getting into Slytherin like everyone else in his family that he had gotten his wish, even though the Hat had strongly suggested Ravenclaw or possibly even Gryffindor.

On one lazy afternoon they lie down next to each other in the sun. Their fingers meet and slowly intertwine, a touch of comfort in a turning world. And then, Draco props up on an elbow to look into the face of that boy he calls his friend now, in secret at least, and kisses him and Harry kisses him back.

And for once he doesn’t actually care if his father hears about this.

(If anyone wants to run with it and actually write this, be my guest! I’d love to read it^^)

[padawanlost]

Hey love your content.

Just wanted to ask you something. There's a claim I've seen coming up in fandom a few times now that Obi Wan knew Luke would bring his father back to the light and redeem him. That he even planned as much and this is supposedly evidenced by his not killing Vader in A New Hope and telling Luke to face Vader but not kill him in Return of the Jedi

I'm not convinced, but can you offer a more conclusive answer rebuttal or whatever.

I’ll be honest with you, this is the first time I’ve ever heard such theory so I’ve no idea where it came from or what arguments are being used to support it. All I can show you is the OT itself. The movies make pretty clear that Obi-wan and Yoda were preparing Luke to kill Darth Vader, and that Anakin’s return was something considered impossible until that point.

Because I don’t keep track of DisneySW, all the evidence I provided is strictly based on the original canon, as developed by George Lucas. So if Disney retconned something, I won’t be able to help :)

That being said, that theory doesn’t make much sense to me, sorry. For Anakin’s redemption to be part of some Obi-wan’s master plan, the character would have to have an impossible foresight into everyone’s involved past and future. For Obi-wan to be able to manipulate people and events to push Anakin’s into going back to light, he would first have to understand why Anakin fell in the first place. And if there’s one thing Episode III makes painfully obvious is that Obi-wan was nowhere near Coruscant when Anakin made his fatal decision, nor was he aware of the circumstances that led him to it. Everyone who knew what truly went down were either dead or his new worst enemies.

With that in mind, let’s take a look at Obi-wan’s (alleged) ‘master plan’:

In Episode IV, we have Obi-wan openly lying to Luke about where he came from and dueling Vader (literary to the death). Not exactly the actions of a man who wants the son to save the father’s life.

In Episode V Obi-wan tells Luke not even Yoda had the power or skill required to see into the future of Han and Leia. Considering they were captured by one of the most even being in the galaxy, it wouldn’t be that hard to guess their future did not look pretty.

Luke: But, Han and Leia will die if I don't. Obi-Wan: You don't know that. Even Yoda cannot see their fate.

The idea here is tied to an important concept in SW: free will. The characters are fundamentally free to make their own choices. Anakin, despite being manipulated by Palpatine, ultimately made his own bed. This is true to all of them. Palpatine’s ‘master plan’ wasn’t about controlling people into doing what he wanted, it was using their own nature against them. He nudged them into the making poor decisions, he never stripped them of their agency.

Obi-Wan: It is you and your abilities the Emperor wants. That is why your friends are made to suffer. Luke: That's why I have to go. Obi-Wan: Luke. I don't want to lose you to the Emperor, the way I lost Vader. Luke: You won't. Yoda: Stopped, they must be. On this, all depends. Only a fully trained Jedi Knight, with the Force as his ally, will conquer Vader and his Emperor. If you end your training now, if you choose the quick and easy path as Vader did, you will become an agent of evil. Obi-Wan: Patience. [...] Obi-Wan: If you choose to face Vader, you will do it alone. I cannot interfere.

Unless you see Obi-wan as a manipulative, cruel person who wants an untrained Luke to face two of the most powerful beings in the galaxy alone for his own personal, secret plan, I’d say the movie is pretty clear in showing us that neither Yoda nor Obi-wan want Luke to face Vader at that point. If the plan was to get Luke to going, wouldn’t have been easier to just let him go instead of creating an huge argument about it? Hell, they are willing throw Han and Leia under the bus to keep Luke from leaving. If that wasn’t shady enough now we are supposed to believe that was part of an even worst scheme involving pretty much everyone?

Yoda: Told you I did. Reckless, is he. Now... matters are worse. Obi-Wan: That boy is our last hope. Yoda: No. There is another.

Yeah, it doesn’t sound like using Luke to redeem Vader was their ultimate goal here.

There are some pretty big holes in that theory in terms of character development and narrative structure. I know everyone loves the idea of Vader and Obi-wan having some badass duel in ANH but the truth is Vader had spent the last 20 years training and killing pretty much all kinds of enemies imagine while Obi-wan mediated on Tatooine as grew shockingly old for his age.

As proven on Mustafar, raw power only takes you so far. Anakin has always been much, much more powerful than Obi-wan but in the end Obi-wan won because of skill, training and discipline. Unfortunately, for Obi-wan, he didn’t get much training in his isolation. He couldn’t have because he was in hiding! If that wasn’t enough, the EU confirms that Obi-wan sacrificed himself to allow Luke to scape. There was no secret plan.

Obi-Wan risked a glance through the hangar’s open doorway and saw four stormtroopers guarding the Falcon. He also sensed that Luke was nearby. Hoping to cause a distraction that would allow Luke to board the Falcon, he attacked Vader more vigorously. The noise of clashing lightsabers echoed into the hangar, attracting the stormtroopers’ attention. With his peripheral vision, Obi-Wan saw the stormtroopers leave their stations beside the Falcon and run toward him and Vader. He continued his attack on Vader, and several exchanges later, he sensed Luke’s movement and knew his plan had worked. He risked another glance into the hangar to see several figures racing for the Falcon’s landing ramp: the droids, Chewbacca, Han Solo, Luke, and — Leia! Obi-Wan hadn’t known that Princess Leia was on the battle station, but he recognized the girl in the white dress from the hologram that R2-D2 had displayed. Obi-Wan did not believe in luck or coincidences, and seeing Luke unwittingly reunited with his twin sister, he knew that it was not a tractor beam that had brought him to the battle station, but the will of the Force. His fleeting glance also registered that Luke had paused behind his friends. Luke stood a short distance from the landing ramp and was staring straight at him, gaping. Obi-Wan realized there was only one way Luke, Leia, and the others would escape the battle station alive. He smiled as he looked away from Luke, then closed his eyes and raised his lightsaber up before him. Darth Vader did not hesitate to strike. [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Imo, this theory ruins the character of Obi-wan by making him pretty much omniscient and way more powerful and manipulative than he was in canon. Obi-wan wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t palpatine level of manipulative either. He had no ‘grand plan’ beyond using Luke to kill vader and save the galaxy in a desperate attempt to save the galaxy.

On top of that, let’s remember that Obi-wan had no hope left for Anakin. He did not believe Anakin could be redeemed after Mustafar. If you do not believe md, believe George Lucas.

After the first complete take, Lucas and McGregor discuss when he should say each line: “As you watch Anakin slide down, how about if you take one step forward,” Lucas Suggests. “For a moment, you think about it. Your first impulse is to save him – but then you realize you can’t”. As the takes multiply and the actors find their rhythm and emotions, the scene becomes more and more powerful. Christensen yells “I hate you!”. McGregor says, “I love you. But I will not help you”. Lucas explains that what Obi-wan’s really saying to Anakin is: “Your were our only hope and you blew it. Now we don’t have any hope”. Take. After Anakin implores Obi-wan to save him, George asks Ewan to say “I will not…” softer, almost to himself. Take. “After he burst into flames,” Lucas directs, “it’s as if you’re talking to a dead person. To a piece of toast”. He suggests, to drive home this point, that McGregor change the words in the script to the past tense, “I loved you.” The actor acquiesces, but points out that his subsequent line would have to change to “But I could not help you.” Lucas agrees, and Tenggren alters the script accordingly.[ The Making of ROTS]

Another thing that George is very clear about is that Luke is the one who redeems Anakin.

It really has to do with learning. Children teach you compassion. They teach you to love unconditionally. Anakin can’t be redeemed for all the pain and suffering he’s caused. He doesn’t right the wrongs, but he stops the horror. The end of the saga is simply Anakin saying, I care about this person [Luke], regardless of what it means to me. I will throw away everything that I have, everything that I’ve grown to love - primarily the Emperor - and throw away my life, to save this person. And I’m doing it because he has faith in me; he loves me despite all the horrible things I’ve done. I broke his mother’s heart, but he still cares about me, and I can’t let that die. Anakin is very different in the end. The thing of it is: the prophecy was right. Anakin was the chosen one, and he does bring balance to the Force. He takes the ounce of good still left in him and destroys the Emperor out of compassion for his son. [ GEORGE LUCAS - THE MAKING OF REVENGE OF THE SITH; PAGE 221.]

This brings us back about what I said earlier about narrative structure. This is Luke’s story. Obi-wan is the mentor, that’s it. It’s Luke’s actions, Luke’s choices. To suddenly reveal that everything happened was the result of Obi-wan’s plan would be narrative equivalent of a slap in the face. We watched Luke’s hero journey only to find out his journey was a lie and his choices weren’t really his own. How disappointing!

Not only that but redemption comes from within. Even if Obi-wan had planned for everything, Anakin would need to WANT to change. and knowing it was Luke’s selfless actions that drove Anakin into killing Palpatine, suddenly finding out an ulterior motive behind Luke’s actions (beyond the character’s own goodness) would diminish the weight of Anakin own choices.

But, again, Obi-wan couldn’t have planned for Anakin to return to the light because he didn’t even believe one could be redeemed after such evils.

Obi-Wan’s spirit was invisible but present when Luke arrived in the Endor system, where the Empire had constructed a new Death Star battle station. When Luke surrendered to Darth Vader on the Endor forest moon, he listened as Luke maintained his belief that a remnant of Anakin Skywalker remained within Vader and had not been entirely consumed by evil. Luke urged his father to let go of his hate. Vader said, “It is too late for me, son.” Then he signaled to two stormtroopers to escort Luke to a waiting shuttle that would carry them to the Death Star. As the stormtroopers moved up behind Luke, Vader added, “The Emperor will show you the true nature of the Force. He is your Master now.” Luke stared at Vader for a moment before he said, “Then my father is truly dead.” Obi-Wan’s spirit wished he had convinced Luke of this fact earlier. [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Even as they fought, Obi-wan didn’t believe Luke could save Anakin. It was only after witnessing Palpatine’s demise he started to realize what it meant.

Obi-Wan knew that Vader would never help, and he felt almost overwhelmed by a sense of dread. Luke would soon be dead, and Vader would remain the Emperor’s puppet. In fact, Obi-Wan was so convinced of Vader’s nature that he was stunned by what happened next. Vader grabbed the Emperor and lifted him off his feet.  [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Had Obi-Wan’s spirit not witnessed Vader’s action, he never would have believed it. Vader, the same monster that Obi-Wan had left to die on Mustafar, had sacrificed himself to save his son. And suddenly Obi-Wan realized where he had failed. For unlike Luke, Obi-Wan had not only believed that Anakin was completely consumed by the dark side, but had actually refused to believe that any goodness could have remained within Vader.  [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Btw, in ROTJ, Obi-wan doesn’t try to talk Luke out of killing Vader. In fact, the oppositve of that happens:

Luke Skywalker: There is still good in him. Obi-Wan: He's more machine now than man. Twisted and evil. Luke Skywalker: I can't do it, Ben. Obi-Wan: You cannot escape your destiny. You must face Darth Vader again. Luke Skywalker: I can't kill my own father. Obi-Wan: Then the Emperor has already won. You were our only hope.

Star Wars, at its core, has a very simple message about love and the power it has over people. in the end, the good guys won because they were good, not because they were being guided there by some powerful guy. In the end, it was love that won the war and saved the day. Everyone’s love. Luke’s love for Anakin, Anakin’s love for Luke, Han’s love for Leia, etc. Selfless love makes better people and good people do good things. It’s not about manipulating actions, people or even knowing everything. In fact, I’d say it’s the appositive.

Luke didn’t know he could save Vader, but he tried anyway and that’s what makes him a hero. It’s the not knowing but having faith in someone out of love, faith they can be better than they are. That’s what saves the world. It’s not knowing everything and still acting out love and compassion.

Anyway, I honestly don’t know where this idea of Obi-wan knowing Anakin’s future and planning for it came from. But I do know it’s not supported by the movies, the EU or George himself.