#this is gonna sound melodramatic but I literally let out a little gasp when I saw this

[alderaani]

All The Things You Say

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x Reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, swearing, almost smut. Not quite NSFW but trying its best.

Rating: NC-17 prob? To be on the safe side.

A/N: Shout out to my boyfriend for inspiring this because he would not stop laughing at the scientific inaccuracies in The Avengers while we were trying to watch it the other day. I didn’t even mean to write this, it just kinda happened. This is the second time I’ve posted this!!! Actually getting quite stressed with the way the tags just will not work for me - I’m finding the first time I try to post something it will show up in the tags for about an hour, and then just disappear and never come back?? Pls lemme know if you have any hacks for this.

There is a bark of laughter next to your ear, the chest you are using as a pillow shaking with poorly suppressed mirth.

“Come on, there’s no way he’s still alive!” Fives exclaims. You drag your eyes away from the holofilm you’re watching in time to see him throw his head back and laugh again, as on screen the hero dives out of a roll and comes up shooting. “That’s not even how you hold a blaster!”

“Fives,” you whine, pushing your elbow into his stomach. You may as well not have bothered, for all the good it does; the solid muscles of his abdomen don’t budge even slightly. “You’re talking over the good bit!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Fives says, shifting to press a warm kiss to your cheek. He is absolutely not sorry – he’s been doing this the entire holo. You’re so comfortable and warm curled up against him, though, that it’s hard to mind all the interruptions too much. One of his large, calloused hands is resting firmly on your hip, the heat of his palm burning through the thin shorts you’re wearing. Kriff, you’ve missed this. Your apartment is tiny, but somehow it always feels so empty when he’s gone. 

“I take it back, his marksmanship is unparalleled.”

“I don’t care what you think about his shooting as long as you hold it in until the credits,” you grouse. 

You feel him shake with silent laughter again, then he presses his lips to your forehead, the scrape of his beard making you shiver. He is soft and pliant in the sleep clothes you’d delighted in buying him, because they are something comfortable and non-regulation, his in the way few things are. The steady weight of him at your back, the gentle rhythm of his breathing…it feels like coming home.

You only have three days this time, before he will be gone again. He doesn’t offer any details of his next mission, and you don’t ask. It is already hard enough to let him go when you don’t know the exact horrors that you are sending him into. He fights for his life, fights for every citizen of the Republic, while you sit pretty in an office filing data all day. It hurts you to think about, so while he’s with you, you don’t. Instead you desperately fold him into your life on Coruscant in the time you have, trying to give him everything that the Senate won’t. Some things, though, he is evidently less appreciative of than others.

He only makes it ten minutes before he just can’t help himself. The final straw is when two Jedi appear mid-scene and start swinging a pair of lightsabers that even you can tell are badly animated.

“What are they doing? They’re not even trying to go on the offensive! No – you idiot – aim for the –“  

You turn your head and narrow your eyes at him. You’d never dream of admitting it, but the genuine indignation on his face is actually very cute. Fives meets your unimpressed gaze and cuts himself off.

“Right, sorry, no talking.”

You nudge him with your elbow again and squawk when he digs his hand into your hip as retaliation.

“Maybe this was a bad idea, this is clearly reminding you too much of work,” You say. “We should have gone for another romance.”

Fives shudders dramatically. “No, please, I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut this time.”

You snicker into the arm Fives has curled around you. The last time he’d been on leave, you’d made Fives pick a holo at random. He’d landed on, in his words, perhaps the worst, most melodramatic soap-opera ever made. He doesn’t have any others to compare it to, but he’s sure nonetheless. The memory of his absolute disgust at the way the love interests had draped over each other still brings you unreasonable joy.

Abruptly you flop backwards in Fives’ arms, draping your body over the arm of the sofa. He peers down at you, his brown eyes sparkling, his expression amused and open. His hair is soft and rumpled and you want nothing more than to run your fingers through it.

“But Fives…I want you to draw me like one of your Corellian girls,” you say melodramatically, flinging one arm back. 

He groans loudly, and before you can blink one hand has come up to pin down your chest, the other darting out to jab the most ticklish part of your ribs. You jerk and shriek, your hands scrabbling against his thick forearm but it’s no use; you’re not moving an inch until he lets you.

“The long necks never taught me how to draw,” he says loudly over the sounds of your choking laughs. “So I think I should get to be the Corellian girl.”

There are genuine tears in your eyes when he lets you go. You sag down in a limp heap, clutching your stomach.

“You definitely have the tits for it,” you wheeze out, relishing the indignant noise he makes when you reach up and squeeze one for emphasis.

“I still say there was room for two people in that fucking escape pod,” Fives mutters, making you muffle another cackle.

“I know you do,” you say, because it was all Fives talked about for two days after the holo ended. Then you turn your head when there’s a particularly loud explosion on the neglected film you’re supposed to currently be watching. “Oh, shush, this bit’s the best part!”

“I should shush? Who was just talking?” Fives grumbles, but settles down obediently to watch as the film reaches its crescendo, a huge space battle unfolding on the frontier of Wild Space. As it builds, he slides a hand into your hair, stroking your head gently. He even finally sounds like he might be getting into it – you hear his breath hitch when a starfighter explodes on screen and his grip tightens briefly on your hip.

The holo draws to a close with the hero dragging the broken body of their friend from a downed fighter, leaning over them while the rest of their forces look sad at a respectful distance.

“I love you, brother,” They say tearfully. You clutch tight to Fives’ forearm, a little teary yourself as the music swells and the shot pulls out to a beautiful sunrise over the wilderness of an unknown planet.

Fives tenses behind you; it’s the only warning you get before he’s opening his big mouth again.

“If they loved him, they’d be calling for a medic, honestly,” he scoffs. “All the love in the galaxy isn’t gonna remove that shrapnel.”

You roll your eyes heavenward, the moment ruined. It’s your own fault and you know it; you picked this idiot up at 79’s and brought him home and never let him go again, like he was a sad stray tooka you found on the sidewalk. You have nobody to blame for this but yourself.

It’s a good thing he’s pretty.

In a moment you have twisted in Fives’ grip, shoved him down and straddled his waist. Before he can move, you grasp both of his wrists and pull them up to rest by his head. If you’re not going to get to enjoy your holofilm, you’re only going to settle for something better.

“Don’t you ever fucking shut up?” You ask, laughing your way through the words.

Fives smirks lazily beneath you, utterly unbothered by the change in position. He flexes his hands a little, but deigns to let you keep them trapped. The knowledge of how easily he could break free if he wanted to makes your mouth go dry. 

“Only if there’s something to occupy me.”

This is accompanied by an eyebrow waggle that makes you groan in disgust, but you’re grinning like an idiot all the same.

“The holo was supposed to occupy you!”

Fives shrugs a shoulder. His eyes sweep over you slowly, meaningfully. “Can think of much better things.”

“Oh really?” You ask, settling firmly into his lap. “What did you have in mind?”

Instead of answering Fives leans up, his nose sliding along your own. His breath sweeps over your lips and your eyes flutter shut, anticipation curling in your stomach. You give up the pretence and melt into him, meeting his eager mouth with a sigh. He is hot and wet and wonderful. Fives groans deep in his chest, the sound rumbling through you where your bodies join and shooting straight to your core. You feel him work his hands free and then they are on you, sliding firmly over the dips and curves of your body.

When you break apart, it feels like your whole body is on fire.

“So how about it, cyar’ika?” He breathes, his face flushed. He leans up again to mouth at your throat, a quick flash of teeth that makes you gasp. “You gonna shut me up?”

You grind your hips down sharp and sudden, and smirk in satisfaction as Fives chokes and throws his head back. You can feel his interest literally growing beneath you; it’s your turn to lean in and bite your way up his neck, to the spot by his ear that always makes him shudder.

“I think I’ve got a better idea,” you whisper, nipping the shell of his ear and savouring his yelp. “I’m going to make you beg.”

[hiddlestonsbabygirl]

Care For Me (Steve Rogers au) SugarDaddy!Steve

•part one•

An alternative universe where Steve isn’t an Avenger, but rather a CEO of one of the biggest companies in the US. His best friend and business partner Bucky secretly made him an account in an online dating site for sugar daddies and sugar babies, setting Steve up on a date with the only suitable sugar baby he thought was best for his best friend among the million others in his inbox.

It’s you. You’re the sugar baby.

Or,

Where reader is a med student who is badly in need of financial support and resorted to desperate measures by signing up to an online dating site with a little help from reader’s best friend, Nat.

Contains: natasha x reader moment (but platonic!)

A/N: thank you guys for the great reviews on the prologue! I hope you’ll enjoy this one as well! Tags are still open! x

Ps. I’m sorry it took so long for me to update, I’ve been really busy for finals and now that everything’s been put on hold, I can finally focus on this story!

Stay safe you guys! ❤️

•••

“Thanks again for the help, Nat. I’d probably be in the streets by now if you weren’t around.” You thanked before bringing your mug of hot tea to your salty lips. Why, it was because of your crying.

“No need to thank me, (Y/N). You know I’m always one call away.” Natasha replied with a wink, her fit physique sprawled out on her queen-sized bed. You both spent the previous hour gathering your things and bringing it over to your best friend’s house with a little help from her parents. You were like family to them, so when Mr. and Mrs. Romanoff found out that you’ve been kicked out of your apartment they were rushing to your aid in a heartbeat.

“You know, I could work a few extra hours and do some chores around here and help your mom.” You announced and shrugged. “Just a little way of saying thank you to them.”

Nat scoffed. “(Y/N), you could barely even last a week in a job because of your busy schedule in school. Plus, mom wouldn’t let you do that. She’d probably kill me if I let you do house chores.”

“But Nat, this is too much!” You sighed, putting down your mug on the bedside table and joining your best friend on the bed with a little flop, your body bouncing a little as you did so.

Nat sat up and looked you dead in the eyes, her hand hovering above yours. “You’re never too much for mom and dad. They know how hard med school is and they’ve known you since seventh grade! You’re like a second daughter to them!”

You could feel tears prick the corners of your eyes but refused to let them fall. You were tired of crying and you wanted to show your best friend that you’re strong.

“Thank you, Nat. For the millionth time. I could never say it enough because you’ve done so much for me these past few years.” Your voice broke. “You’ve been saving my life ever since.”

As much as you refused, the tears fell. But you weren’t the only one this time. As Natasha pulled you in for a hug, tears welled up in her eyes as well. It hurt her seeing you struggle and try to hide it from her. She knew that you’re strong; you have been ever since. But to see you break down in front of her didn’t fail to ache her own heart, too.

And you both stayed like that for several minutes. You both enjoyed the comforting silence, your best friend’s arms wrapped around you while you calmed yourself as your eyelids began to feel heavy. Just as you were about to doze off Nat jolted upwards and you flinched.

“Holy shit, I have the stupidest but brilliant idea.” She gasped out, her eyes wide and filled with excitement. The emotional, melodramatic feel in the air was gone and was soon replaced by Nat’s excitement.

“Stupid and brilliant? Nat what—“

“You should sign up for an online dating site.” She grinned as she pointed at you, your brows drawn together in confusion as you processed the words that left her mouth.

“Natasha, no. Dating is already heavy work. I don’t need to worry for another human being when I’m struggling to take care of myself and my studies. So no, thank you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to worry too much in this kind of relationship, (Y/N).”

Your confusion grew.

“Because he’s gonna take care of you.”

You watched as she took out her laptop and opened it enthusiastically, her fingers running smoothly across the keyboard with each letter she typed until she turned it around so the screen was facing you.

“Sweet as Sugar Online Dating Site.” You read. “Where you’ll find just the right amount of sweetness you look for in a sugar baby/sugar daddy/sugar mommy. Over 1,000,000+ users. Sign up now!”

“Sign up now!” Natasha repeated, an overanimated grin across her lips as she watched your shocked face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Oh, come on! I know what you’re thinking,” she giggled as she turned the laptop to her again and began typing. “Whenever you think of a sugar daddy, what comes to mind is an old, fat man with a boatload of cash. But! With this site, you can fill up a form asking what you want in a sugar daddy.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now.

“Come, I’ll show you!” She exclaimed as she patted the space next to her. You shook your head in disbelief as you made your way next to your best friend, watching her fill up your biodata in the pink and purple themed website.

“Nat you can’t be serious.” You tried to laugh, but it came out more of a whine. Natasha ignored you and continued to fill out the form, confident that she knew just what to fill in about yourself.

“Okay, display photo. I think I have a couple of good ones of you saved on my laptop.”

She then proceeded to scroll through her library, pictures of the both of you coming to view from past moments—birthdays, Christmas, school events, and just about everything you’ve shared with your best friend.

She finally decided on a portrait of you, a picture she took just last year when you both went on a vacation in Malibu. You were wearing a white off-shoulder dress, looking away from the camera as you laughed shyly, one hand holding on to your beach hat and the other holding down the hem of your dress to keep the wind from lifting the skirt up.

“Oooh, I like this one! It’s a subtle look, yet it shows your side-profile. Daddies would love to see more of you just from this picture!” She exclaimed, pressing on the photo and it only took several seconds before your portrait was uploaded on the site.

“Nat, this is ridiculous.” You groaned out, leaning back against the headboard as you imagined yourself dating someone ten years older than you, or someone twice your age. It’s not that you were against people in relationships that have big age gaps; you just couldn’t imagine yourself being in one, considering the fact that you were awkward and shy and downright busy.

“Not until you fill up this form.” She returned, putting the laptop on your lap and in front of you was a form asking you what you liked in a person, your preferred age, what type of relationship, the like.

“Dude, you could literally just put 5-years older as your preferred age and it would give you a shitload of results!” Natasha added. “Come on, please? If you can’t find someone you think is suitable for you, then it’s fine. We could delete your account and just drop it off. I just thought we’d give it a go, because you kinda need someone to fill your empty heart as well.”

The teasing grin on her lips made you roll your eyes. “One, my heart isn’t empty. I have you and your family in here. Two, your idea is weird and crazy. And three,”

You looked down on the screen and bit your lip, bracing yourself for what you were about to say next.

“I’m gonna sign up. For you.”

What do you look for in a sugar mommy/daddy?

Someone who can provide for me financially while I study in medical school.

How old is your preferred age?

5 years older than me. No more than that.

What are your hobbies?

Eating, cooking, reading books, watching movies, sleeping

What are your likes and dislikes?

I really love pizza. I like staying up at night, and I really really love stargazing. I also love books and coffee shops. They’re my favorite.

I don’t have many dislikes though, I just hate surprise tests and cramming for exams. I also don’t like being bothered with when I’m studying.

Please choose below what you would likely prefer in a relationship. You can tick off as many as you like.

⚪️ BDSM

🔘 Balanced relationship

🔘 Cohabitation/Domestic Partnership (living in the same household as your partner; no marriage required)

⚪️ Friends with Benefits

🔘 Long Distance Relationship

⚪️ Marriage

🔘 Monogamous (exclusive relationship; only dedicated to one partner)

⚪️ Nonmonogamous (open to more than one partner)

🔘 Platonic

⚪️ Polyamory

⚪️ Sexual Partner

🔘 Temporary Partnership/Relationship

Thank you! Your account will be set up in a few minutes. Please wait.

“Holy shit I’m really doing this Nat.” You gasped as you watched a buffering circle indicating that your account was currently being created.

Natasha cackled next to you. “So you’d like a live-in partner, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “It could be helpful considering my situation right now.”

A ‘ping!’ sounded from the laptop and it notified that your account has been officially made. You were then directed to a new page. It was your very own profile page, showing your display photo and name at the top, and everything that you answered a while ago followed just below your name. Next to your display photo showed the number of followers and people you’re following, and the topmost right of the page was a white envelope, serving as your inbox.

“Wow,” you breathed out. “That was fast.”

“Okay!” Nat exclaimed enthusiastically. “Now all we have to do is wait!”

You groaned out as Nat took the laptop from your lap and you stretched your legs out, slightly tense from being curled in your recent position. You were starting to feel sleepy, so you decided to push yourself even lower on the bed until your head hit the soft pillow perfectly.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll check on that tomorrow. I’m getting tired.” You announced as you yawned and stretched your arms out, one hand hitting your best friend on the cheek.

“Yeah, okay. We can check this out tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Sunday anyway.” Natasha agreed as she closed her laptop and put it on her bedside table, turning the lamp off in the process.

“Good night, Nat.”

“Good night sugar baby.”

...

Bucky arrived at his condominium, ignoring calls from his best friend. After he suddenly left lunch leaving Steve confused, the man wouldn’t stop calling him and sending him messages. He plopped down his velvet couch, grabbing his laptop that lay untouched on the coffee table, turning it on and became eager to open a website. He learned about this new website when he overheard a co-worker of his talking to another co-worker about some site for sugar babies. He instantly became curious, wanting to see how legit it was and before he knew it he found himself creating an account for his own.

He wants to help his best friend so bad. Steve has been too unyielding and bloody-minded. He doesn’t even try to put an effort when he’s been set up with dates, leaving women sad and disappointed. All Steve needed was the right woman to get him back in the game.

And this website just might help.

He began creating another account, filling in Steve’s biodata without hesitation. He chose a display picture that would surely catch girls’ attention. It was the one where he was invited to a grand opening of a new company owned by a few famous people and paparazzi were there, taking all Steve’s good angles and Bucky had saved one where he loved the most. He wore a suit and his hair was slicked back, his striking blue eyes gleaming in the light and a hint of pink lips protruding from his thick beard.

Once the account has been finally created and ready for matchmaking, Bucky began his search for eligible women that would be just right for his best friend.

...two hours later...

Hopeless. Bucky was beginning to feel so hopeless. Sure, he’s already come across countless of beautiful women but when he read their whole profile he began to hesitate. He wanted a girl that even he would certainly say yes to for his best friend, knowing that Steve Rogers was one picky man.

Just when he was in the verge of tears and about to give up, one girl caught his eye.

She was in the beach, laughing shyly and looking away from the camera, a hand holding on to her off-shoulder dress and the other keeping her beach hat from flying away.

She’s perfect.

She seemed shy and innocent and downright adorable; she’d be perfect for Steve’s dominant and stern facade.

Bucky was quick to send her a message.

Hi :) would you like to meet up sometime? I’m not much of a chatting-type of guy and I’d rather get to know you better in person. How about over a cup of coffee? x

That sounded a bit rushed. But Bucky just cannot wait any longer. He’s just going to hope that this girl knows the ever famous Steve Rogers and would instantly say yes.

............... ............... ............... ............... ............... ...............

Tags: @heyiamthatbitch @little-dark-empress @verdonafrost @fallenoutofrose @janell-r @ctrl-alt-jeon @radi0active-thoughts @veronawrites @art-estrange @polarcrystall @emilypkuzu @arizonalovesher @connerkentx @kovuthebean @sweetlittlegingy @daahlias @astridsagevans @tazzi-baby @laneygthememequeen @spideys-wife @the-thighs-of-betrayal @wxstedhexrt @domolovee @selluequestrian @rootcrop @rororo06 @ashleybang @evansmess @clueless-333 @sp2900 @x-black-haired-emo-x @ashxmarvel @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @songbirdmia @pepitasab @brokenrogerz @holographic84 @imahoeforbucky @starstruckpersonearthquake @illbethethundertoyourlightning

I’m sorry for those who can’t be tagged, I couldn’t find your account :( hmu if there’s been a mistake! x

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Jealous of a Kitten

Author's Note:

Hey y'all! So I was b l o w n away by the response to my last Loki x Reader oneshot, so I thought I'd give writing for him another go! I've had this fic in my drafts since literally last year lmao. If you end up liking it, I'd love a like, reblog, or comment to let me know! And if anyone wants to request something for Loki or any other MCU characters, feel free to send me a message and let me know! As always big thanks to @twentytwohearts for their help reading and helping out with this fic!

Y/N POV:

“Good heavens mortal, haven’t you got anything else to occupy your time besides pestering me?” Loki grumbled affectionately from his place on the sofa. He was reclined comfortably on the couch, back pressed up to my front as he rested in between my bent legs. My hands were tangled within his inky black locks, fingers lazily scratching through his hair as I braided small sections. I grinned widely.  

“Nope!” I replied cheekily, ensuring to overexaggeratedly pop the “p” at the end. “Cap gave me the rest of the day off from training, so you’re blessed with my presence all day, snowball."

The prince sighed melodramatically as he turned a page in the book currently resting on his lap. 

“I wouldn’t exactly describe it as a blessing pet” he remarked dryly. His tone was nonchalant, but I could hear the small smile in his words despite his clear efforts to seem passive. 

“Oh please, we both know you love when I ‘annoy’ you." I rolled my eyes with a giggle. Loki merely hummed in response as he continued to read whatever tome had caught his attention this afternoon. Deciding to mess with him a bit, I removed my hands from his now-wavy tresses. 

“Or maybe not?” I pouted, feigning hurt and leaning my chest away from his body. He stilled slightly with his fingers paused mid page turn. His back tensed just a bit, and I could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to decipher whether or not I was serious. Though he only panicked a moment or two, it was enough to make me silently delight in having seemingly tricked the god of mischief. He huffed childishly, his hand grabbing mine quickly and placing it back on his head. 

My smile widened so far at his reaction I was almost fearful it may actually split my face in two. He didn't say anything, but was certain Loki could feel the satisfaction coming off of me in waves. Even though I'd known from the beginning, it was nice to be reminded just how content he was to be entangled with me for the moment. He could pretend all he wanted, but I knew something about the lanky god that most people didn't. 

He was a huge cuddle-bug. 

As stiff and regal as he presented himself most of the time, he never failed to make it known just how much he adored physical contact with me. I'd even go so far as to consider him touch-starved when we'd first met. I mean, it made sense. He was a prince and the only meaningful contact he'd probably experienced came from those that used to help him dress or bathe. The thought of him going for so long -- literally thousands of years -- without the affectionate touch of another living being made me genuinely teary. Once we'd established ourselves as a couple, he instantly became a constant presence at my side. It didn't matter the situation nor the company surrounding us, if he was in the same room as I was he would gravitate towards me. Whether it was a hand resting across the small of my back or fingers linked firmly through mine, he always found some way to initiate some kind of physical touch. I was more than thrilled at his open displays of affection -- even after months of time spent together I still felt the delicious ripples of electricity run through me each time his skin met mine. 

Moments like today's were rare. Days when neither of us had any obligations or work to be done, when we could just spend time with one another. Sweet, domestic slices of life when we could just cuddle close to one another and pretend for a moment that all the struggles of the world were gone. I sighed softly as we lapsed back into comfortable silence, both of us content to simply be in one another's presence. 

But, as always, no peaceful moments around here could last that long. 

Peter came bursting through the door, looking even more flustered than usual. Which, for him, was saying something. He was wearing his suit sans the mask, carrying a giant throw blanket, with his brown curls mussed wildly and eyes desperately searching the room. He spotted Loki and I fairly quickly. A brief look of relief passed over the young boy's features as he rushed over to where we laid.

"Hey guys, uhm I could use some help," he blurted breathlessly once he reached the couch. I chuckled, amused by the poor flustered teen. 

"You'll have to be more specific than that," Loki grumbled from his place between my legs. I didn't need to see his face to know exactly his expression. Clearly he was annoyed to have our peaceful moment interrupted, and I would bet money that he was scowling at Peter as a result. Frowning slightly, I pinched the back of his arm in reprimand. 

"OUCH," he exclaimed dramatically. His arm darted out of my reach, the other hand coming out to rub the sore spot childishly. "What on Earth was that for?"

"Leave him alone snowball, he clearly needs something," I scolded lightly. He huffed once more, settling back into my legs and turning his attention back to his book and grumbling inaudibly. I rolled my eyes. 

Peter's eyes went slightly wider as they darted between Loki and I. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the raven-haired Asgardian when he was actually behaving, and given Loki's current grumpy demeanor he seemed especially on-edge. I smiled brightly, hoping to ease his discomfort. 

"What's up Peter?"

His eyes darted back to mine suddenly, relief overtaking his face at the save.

"So I was just out, ya know like patrolling, and I was helping this old Italian lady. She was carrying all this stuff right -- and I obviously figured I would try to help -- but she didn't speak English. She was like kinda mad at first and she hit me a couple times, cause I think she thought I was trying to rob her, but eventually we got everything sorted and got all her stuff back to her super old car and --" Peter rambled, words slurring together with that inhuman speed that only teenagers could seem to muster. My brows furrowed in confusion and I lifted my hands up like a criminal surrendering. 

"Whoa WHOA Spiderling, take a breath man." I chuckled good-naturedly. The teen's face flushed slightly at my interruption. 

"Sorry. Right. Sorry." he mumbled. "Anyways, so I finally get all her stuff in her car, and she just leaned into me and patted my head. I was gonna swing away, but she handed me this and drove away." 

He gestured to the large blanket in his gloved hands. My brows furrowed. 

"Okayyyyy," I drawled, still confused as to the issue. "And you're mad she gave you an afghan because…?"

His eyes sparked with realization, mouth forming an 'O'. 

"Oh no, no that's not it. I mean that is pretty weird, like why would I need a blanket in the first place. Maybe she thought I looked cold or something, but --"

"Norns, child!" Loki interrupted. He shut his book with a snap, abruptly shifting positions on the couch so he was sitting upright. "Could you perhaps get to the point sometime this century?"

I slapped his arm disapprovingly -- he scowled at me, stubbornly scooting further from me in silent protest. I turned my attention back to Peter with a soft smile. I nodded at the red-faced teen, waving a hand in indication that he should continue. 

"Right. Sorry Mr. Loki. Uhm, so anyways, she gave me this and I don't exactly know what to do with it," he finished. He opened the chunky-knit blanket to reveal the smallest, fuzziest kitten I'd ever seen. The kitten was tiny, no bigger than my fist, fur matted and full of tufts of orange and white hair. As soon as Peter opened the blanket the small kitten blinked it's tiny eyes against the harsh light. Adorable high pitched squeaks came from the teeny cat, who was clearly displeased with the sudden disturbance to it's sleep.

I gasped, my heart practically melting at the sight. I stood suddenly, hands reaching out unconsciously and making grabby motions towards the adorable creature. Peter readily complied, gently transferring the mewling baby over to my awaiting grasp. I cradled the little cat delicately, blanket and all, against my chest and cooed soft, unintelligible words of affection. My hands instantly found a spot behind the kitten's ears and began scratching lightly. The kitten responded positively, nuzzling into my touch readily and purring loudly at the attention. My heart felt like it was positively melting at the sights, sounds, and feel of the small animal in my arms. 

"It's so cute," I gushed, though whether it was to myself or the guys I wasn't even sure. I finally managed to tear my gaze from the cat when I heard a quiet growl come from Loki's direction. 

He was in his same spot on the couch, but I could instantly tell he was annoyed, even without the little grumble. His posture was rigid, hands sitting atop his legs balled into fists, and eyes suddenly dark with anger. Only moments before his face had seemed soft, the sharp planes and angles relaxed as we'd sat together. Now his expression was stony -- the stern mask of irritation he so often wore back with a vengeance. I was momentarily distracted from the small creature in my arms. Twinges of worry and the impulse to comfort him planted low in my belly ran through me at the sight. 

"He is cute," Peter's voice interrupted, clearly oblivious to Loki's abrupt mood shift. "At least I think it's a he? Anyways I can't bring him home, May is allergic to cats and anyways I don't think they're allowed in my building. I was kind of hoping you could watch him for a while?"

"Absolutely n--"

"Of course!"

Loki's head snapped up towards mine as we spoke at the same time, his scowl deepening at my response. I furrowed my brows in confusion, slightly surprised at his aggressive reaction. Peter's eyes bounced from my face to Loki's -- the awkwardness radiating from him as he shifted from foot to foot. 

"Can you not just take it to a shelter or something of that nature?" Loki seethed, glaring at the poor teen. Peter was clearly flustered by the question -- red creeped up his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. 

"Well, see, I tried that! I did, but they told me he's too young for them to take -- cause he's just a baby -- and they can't take him," he stuttered. "Plus, they said they've got too many animals right now, and if he doesn't get adopted soon then they might have to...you know…"

I gasped, instinctively tugging the now-sleeping kitten closer to my chest. Loki shrugged, nonplussed. 

"So?" he questioned. "That is what happens to unneeded animals on this realm, yes?"

My jaw dropped and I frowned disapprovingly at Loki. I knew he could still be, shall we say, difficult at times; though he was definitely on his way to being 'rehabilitated', old habits die hard and he often still struggled with concepts like compassion and kindness. Particularly when it came to anyone or anything that wasn't, well, me. Even still, how someone could look at the tiny creature in my arms without feeling the warm, protective emotions that I did baffled me. 

"We are NOT sending this poor baby to be killed!" I stage whispered the last part, glaring at Loki and cradling the kitten protectively against my chest. "Good lord Loki, just look at him!"

I held the small orange cat down slightly, revealing it's angelic sleeping face to the scowling god. He glanced at the kitten briefly before turning his attention back to me and quirking a brow. 

"I have." he stated plainly, voice laced with poorly concealed contempt. I scowled at him and stuck my tongue out childishly before turning back to Peter. 

"Ignore him Pete, of course we'll take care of him." I reassured the flustered teen. Peter's young face instantly flooded with relief and he mumbled a muffled 'thanks!' as he rushed back out of the room. 

Smiling and chuckling, I turned back towards the couch where Loki still sat. His facial expression remained annoyed and he'd crossed his arms tensely against his chest. I couldn't help but giggle outwardly at his pout; he looked like a child who's toy had been taken away. Though I found his pouty face adorable, I still found it slightly infuriating that it was over the innocent little bundle in my arms. My obvious amusement only caused his scowl to deepen and he scooched over further from me as I sat in my previous spot on the plush couch. 

"Somebody's a bit crabby," I stage whispered to the still sleeping kitten. Loki scoffed. 

"I am not 'crabby' pet," he grumbled. "I simply don't understand your fascination with this little creature.”

I chuckled, the noise hollow and closer to a scoff than anything. I rolled my eyes before turning my attention back to the small kitten in my arms. He began to stir lightly, stretching out his tiny limbs and squeaking out the most adorable yawn before turning his attention to Loki and I. His small eyes appraised the two of us with a kind of innocent curiosity. Eventually he deemed us safe enough, and he began to slowly venture out from the confines of his blanket. As he tentatively explored my lap and the small section of couch that separated Loki and I, I felt my face split into a wide smile. Warm, happy feelings blossomed in my chest at the sight of the curious creature. 

"What's your name gonna be, huh?" I cooed to the small, exploring cat. "Are you a Tom or more of a Finn hmmm?"

Loki rolled his eyes, face never leaving his book. 

"How about blot?" he suggested plainly. His tone was even, controlled, and even though his lips didn't quirk up even the slightest bit at his suggestion I was wholly suspicious instantly. Sending a frown his way, I replied quickly. 

"Dare I even ask what that means?" I quipped warily. His eyes flashed momentarily to my face as he shrugged. Even with the briefest glance I could see the tell-tale spark of mischief in his eyes. Rolling my own eyes in exasperation, I turned my attention back towards the small tabby and ran my fingers across his back. 

"Hmm, what else?" I pondered out loud. "How about Tigger? You look a lot like Tigger."

The tiny cat purred louder at my words, curling around my hand as I spoke. Encouraged, I scratched his fur a little harder. 

"You like that huh? Alright, Tigger it is!"

 A quiet scoff came from the other end of the couch. To my utter confusion, Loki was still radiating complete and total annoyance from his place across from me. He sat tensely in the opposite corner of the couch with his boots tucked petulantly beneath him and his body angled as far from mine as gravity would allow. His head was bowed down slightly, his attention seemingly directed back to his book. Despite his best efforts, I could tell that he was only idly paying any attention to the words on the page. Gone was the smooth look of contentment that had graced his beautiful features mere minutes before; his face was once more a cold veil of poorly concealed contempt as he feigned reading. The look, though common to the rest of the world, was troubling to me. It’d taken months, but I thought I’d broken through the raven-haired god’s stony exterior. The sudden return of the stern facial expression caused pangs of concern and sympathy to prod at me from within. I reached a hand out instinctively to grasp his hand in mine, determined to display my silent support. 

Despite his ‘silvertongue’ reputation, Loki often struggled to verbalize feelings of anything other than contempt, rage, or disgust. I’d learned quickly that often he didn’t need me to attempt to discuss anything he wasn’t ready for -- rather it seemed the best way to comfort him in these times was a physical show of my presence and affection. 

This time was no different, and though his head barely moved an inch I could instantly feel the way he calmed under my touch. The muscles in his hand immediately relaxed as he moved to twine his long fingers between mine. His tense expression softened, although only fractionally as he grasped my hand. He turned his attention from his book slowly, deep blue eyes turning to meet my worried gaze. 

"Hey, talk to me snowflake," I demanded softly. "What's going on?"

Loki opened his mouth to reply, but a small mewl cut him off before he could speak. I glanced down and giggled lightly at the sight of the small orange tabby beneath us. The tiny kitten had wandered down the couch and was currently sitting mere inches away from our intertwined hands with a curious look overtaking his small face. Evidently he wasn't quite pleased to have the attention taken from him so quickly, and he reached a paw out tentatively to hover above our hands. Eventually deciding it was safe, the small cat placed a paw over the tops of our hands, eyes darting between Loki and I with a kind of content curiosity that made my heart practically melt. 

Loki, quite obviously did not share these feelings, and withdrew his hand instantly. His face was once more overtaken by a deep scowl as he snapped his book shut and swiftly stood. He turned curtly and exited the room without another word. My eyes followed him as he left, brows furrowed with concern and confusion. Tigger, meanwhile, was clinging to my chest by his tiny claws, his heart beating with an insane speed. He was clearly scared by Loki's sudden moves and general demeanor, and I cooed soft words of comfort to the small creature. My eyes never left the door though, thoughts of interest and concern overtaking my mind as I wondered what exactly had gotten into my raven-haired companion today. 

A few days later

Loki's POV

Sweet giggles filled the halls of the tower as I walked towards Y/N's room. A small smile overtook my features as the sound filtered through my ears. Typically I found midgardians irritating and their laughter grating, but as was almost always the case, Y/N was an exception. Y/N simply radiated happiness at every turn, and over the past weeks the sound of her infectious laugh had become one of my favorite sounds. Her mere presence had the uncanny ability to both calm and excite me at once, and I'd grown progressively more fond of my time spent with her in a way that baffled me and those around us.

In fact, the past few days had proven increasingly difficult for just that reason. Y/N and I had spent less time together as of late -- a fact that saddened and irritated me in near equal parts. For the past few days I’d found myself yearning for more time with my dear mortal, having been separated by the rather irritating presence of a certain small animal. Ever since the young Spiderchild had thrust a stray cat into Y/N's care she had been wholly and utterly enamored with the useless pet. She doted on the feline, which she'd dubbed 'Tigger', and spent nearly all of her time either caring for, amusing, or simply fawning over it. 

It was becoming rather taxing. 

At first, once I had begrudgingly accepted that the cat wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, I'd attempted to simply ignore it and go about our time as usual. It was only a day or two before that notion was entirely dismissed. Each time I made such an attempt Tigger had made his presence unmistakably clear. The loathsome, needy thing seemed to share my desire to be near Y/N, and was constantly sitting on or pawing at her. And even the precious few moments in which it wasn't physically touching Y/N it took to mewling and crying until she gave in and picked it up. I hadn’t had a single moment with Y/N in which we were truly alone for days, and I was reaching my breaking point. 

As I finally reached Y/N’s room and entered, the smile that the sound of her laughter had put on my face immediately turned to a scowl. Inside the room was Y/N, beautiful as ever, sitting casually on her bed. The sight, which normally would have filled my stomach with a tiny stir of happiness, was marred with the unwelcomed addition of a certain small kitten. The wretched thing was sitting in between her legs, happily jumping and pawing at the toy she waved above him. She was looking over the stupid pet with such fondness in her eyes -- a look which I'd once thought was reserved only for me. Irritation overtook my senses at the sight, and I couldn’t help the scoff of annoyance that came from me. 

Y/N looked up at the sound, initial confusion turning to excitement as she realized my presence. My own feelings of resentment faded marginally at the sight of her beautiful features lighting up with a smile of genuine happiness at the sight of me. 

"Hiya Snowball!" she greeted me excitedly, rushing up from her place on her bed and striding up to where I stood. She tucked herself into the fold of my arms easily, her head resting comfortably against my chest and her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I sighed lightly, my own arms winding around her relatively smaller frame and my face coming to rest against the top of her head.

"Hello my love," I murmured lightly into the crown of her head, placing a sweet kiss in my wake before burying my nose in the soft hairs there. She hummed softly in contentment, and we stayed in this position for some time. It could've been moments, minutes, hours -- I was never quite aware of the passing of time when I was with Y/N like this. I was wholly encased in the safe little bubble that only her presence seemed to create. I was surrounded by her: the unique scent wafting from her hair, the feel of her body melding against mine, and the soft thumping of her heart against my chest that provided the ideal background music for our calm moment together. I was completely entranced by our embrace, all feelings of irritation gone for the moment. 

But only for the moment. 

The sound of tiny cries and the feeling of a small body thumping and winding its way across our ankles broke through the peace we'd established like a freight engine. Y/N's chuckle vibrated low against my chest before she pulled herself out of my arms to peer down at the kitten. Annoyance seared through my body as she detangled herself from me and squatted down to scoop the needy thing into her arms. She stood up once more, cradling the spoiled little creature in her arms and scratching its face with her long slender fingers. 

"Someone wants a hug too, huh?" she cooed playfully to the cat. My frown deepened at her soft tone, the same tone she often spoke to me with -- the small, loving voice that had crooned to me during late nights or early morning moments spent wrapped in one another's embrace. The same tone that never ceased to comfort me or make me feel as if she was possibly the only person to truly love me. The sound that I treasured so dearly was now being directed to a lowly, disgusting animal. It sent a wave of rage through my entire being like a white hot flame. 

"Norns Y/N!" I snapped. "Can we not have a single moment without the presence of this...this animal?"

Her eyes widened as she took in my words, brows practically flying upwards in surprise and hands stilling against Tigger's face. Her wide eyes blinked a few times in complete shock as she surveyed my face carefully. 

"I'm sorry?" she questioned confusedly. I exhaled loudly in irritation, arms coming to rest across my chest in a display of my annoyance. 

"Does it not bother you that we've not spent a moment together, alone, since the creature was forced upon you?" I questioned, tone acidic and face a stone mask of anger. Her brow furrowed deeper in confusion briefly before a wave of understanding flooded her eyes. Expression softening, she set the kitten down lightly onto the floor before crossing the few steps required to reach me once more. Though her eyes held nothing but concern and understanding within the deep Y/E/C irises, her face had the tiniest hint of a smirk.

"Well I'd ask if it bothered you snowflake, but it seems that may be redundant at this point," she replied to my earlier question with ease. Her soft hands reached up towards me and wrapped easily around the back of my neck. Almost of their own accord, my own hands found the curve of her waist and held her firmly. In lieu of a response I simply scowled in her direction. She chuckled lightly, and propped herself up on her toes briefly to place a gentle kiss on my cheek before she led me over to her bed and motioned for me to sit. I complied, albeit somewhat begrudgingly, and she ensured we were settled against the head of the mattress before she spoke again. 

"Loki, are you...jealous of Tigger?" she questioned. Her tone was very matter-of-fact, but the ghost of a smirk still lingered on her face. I felt my face flood with heat, and though I'd like to blame the color on anger I was certain she could tell that I was embarrassed. Though she was largely correct, I was struck with the ridiculousness of the statement as I heard it tumble from her lips. Glancing away from her expectant gaze I mumbled out a response, though I wasn't entirely sure what it was. 

Her gentle fingers moved slightly around my head, delicately stroking the skin of my neck and face until her soft palms rested against the sides of my face. She applied the gentlest pressure to my cheek, forcing me to look her in the eyes once more. I reluctantly complied. 

"Because if you are," she continued. "I'm sure I'd have to tell you just how insane that is. Outside of the fact that Tigger is a cat and you are my not-so-human boyfriend, the idea that there's anyone or anything I'd want to spend time with more than you is just completely inaccurate. He's a baby, and he needs a lot of my attention that's all. Since you haven't been coming around much I just assumed you were busy with other things lately -- never once did it cross my mind that I was the reason I hadn't seen you much." 

I felt my furrowed brows relax slightly. Stupid and petty as my feelings may be, I couldn't deny that hearing such reassurances straight from the one person I truly cared for had taken away a considerable amount of unease from my mind. I exhaled a long breath and shifted unconsciously deeper into Y/N's hold.

"Regardless I'm truly, very sorry that I made you think I was choosing something else over you. I would never want to hurt you like that, or make you feel like you aren't the most important person in my life." 

Her worried gaze was still locked firmly on my face as she spoke. Though the majority of my chest was filled with a feeling of relief from her admission, there was a twinge of guilt lurking deep within my stomach. I often forgot just how caring and gentle Y/N could be and this may have been one such occasion. Of course she latched onto the feeble creature -- was that not what she did with me as well? It was simply a part of her nature to care for the weak or disadvantaged. 

I frowned once more as my mind reeled with the realization of my own selfishness. Y/N clearly mistook my expression however, and I could see the guilt in her eyes as she spoke up once more.

"I can ask Peter if there anyway he can watch him for a bit, maybe just give us some time alone. Or maybe --"

"No." I cut her off abruptly once again. Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she opened her mouth to reply. My own finger came up to her face fast as lightning to silence what would undoubtedly be more apologies. 

"Dearest, clearly the fault is not on your end in this case," I started, hoping to ease her mind. "We both know I often, shall we say, struggle with expressing my thoughts at times. Of course you wish to care for the kitten, just as you care for everything in your life. I was wrong to assume your affections were completely diverted and for not mentioning my feelings sooner. For both, I am truly sorry."

Her expression softened at my apologies, face relaxing under my hand as I spoke. She smiled a small grin of appreciation before thrusting herself forward and deeper into my arms. I let out a small 'oomf' at the force of her body attaching to mine, but regardless my arms wound their way around her frame and I cradled her to my chest. She sighed in contentment, and we stayed in this position for a few moments before I felt her chuckle against my body. I pulled my head back just enough to give her a questioning look. 

"I'm sorry," she giggled, face alight with mischief and glee. "Did the big, fearsome Loki just say he was sorry?"

However unintentionally I felt my face heat up once more, although this time it wasn't from anger. I rolled my eyes lightly before smirking down at Y/N's smiling face. 

"If I were you, I'd mark this day down in your memory, as it isn't likely to be said again anytime soon," came my dry response. 

I heard Y/N's melodious giggle from where her face was pressed against my body, sending delicious sparks of happiness across my frame. Outside of that, her only response to my statement was nuzzling deeper into my body -- a welcome action that I easily reciprocated. My eyelids closed as we settled ourselves into a comfortable silence, content to simply be in one another's presence. I hummed, utterly at peace with my current position, when I heard a tiny mewl from nearby. 

Opening just one eye, I saw a curious little face near mine. Tigger had evidently decided it was now safe enough to venture close to where Y/N and I laid. He was pawing hesitantly back and forth across my lap, eyes assessing me with tentative curiosity as he made tiny circles around my stomach. I chuckled at the feeling of his impossibly tiny paws kneading my lower belly as he settled into a lying position. Y/N opened her eyes at my amused chuckle and shot me a sheepish grin. 

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I can take him somewhere else. I think Peter's around, he'd probably watch him for a bit."

I shook my head, placing a small kiss to her forehead and placing a hand on Tigger's ears.

"It's alright love. I meant what I said when I was sorry -- he didn't do anything wrong, he simply wishes to be around you as much as possible. Obviously, that is a trait we both share, and I think I could expend a bit more energy in attempting to bond with Tigger." I answered genuinely. The kitten purred loudly in response, inching his body further up my chest until he was resting just beside Y/N's face. He closed his eyes sleepily, and curled into my body constantly as he slept. 

Y/N grinned widely, her lovely face alight with such genuine love and glee that I was taken aback at her beauty. She placed a sweet kiss to my lips in thanks before returning to her place on my chest. I closed my eyes once more, smile firmly in place as I lied quietly and revelled in the peaceful moment. 

Taglist: @grahoundart

[iwontstayhidden]

Inadequate.

Summary: After Putting Others First, Logan believes that the other sides have wanted him out of the picture all along. Fortunately, Virgil, Patton, and Roman help him to see how much he is truly appreciated. [We’re gonna address all of the insecure!Logan stuff that's been building up and validate him with Platonic LAMP and wholesome talks.]

Read on Ao3

______________________________________________________________________

Not that any of you care, but I am unharmed, and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just here to deliver one last fact, and then I will do you all a favor and spare you my company.”

Logan sank out with a heavy sigh. His intentions were to return to some new research on an unusual stellar explosion, but he found himself distracted by recent events with Thomas and the sides. Logan thought that by reducing his physical presence to a text bubble for the latest episode, he would decrease the likelihood of the others becoming irritated with him. But this did not seem to be the case at all, based on the evidence mounting in Logan’s mind. Roman said that he “very much did not succeed” in being less invasive. Patton expressed gratitude that Logan’s factoids (an inaccurate term that set Logan even more on edge) were optional this time. Had they always been so vexed by Logan’s facts? And as his function in the group was to provide logic, did this further imply that they are always aggravated by Logan himself? By his mere presence?

Logan found himself pacing back and forth, an activity he usually deemed futile after seeing Virgil work himself up while pacing countless times. But the more he allowed himself to review previous interactions, the more he became sure of this pattern of detestation. And the worst part was that each of the sides had generously attempted to inform Logan that they did not want to hear from him; did not require his assistance! But he was so caught up in his facts. In sharing everything he knew with those he considered to be his companions. Perhaps he had been mistaken in thinking that their feelings for him were affectionate. This certainly wouldn’t be the first time Logan was fooled by the complexity of human emotion and relationships. His friends had been clear all along…

                          “Logan? Shut your ever-flapping gobtalker.”

                                    “Oh hush, sub-astute teacher.”

                                       “Not a good time, Logan...”

                                    “Oh shut up , nerdy Wolverine.”

                             “I’m afraid this is a benched trial for you.”

Logan felt himself losing physical and mental control as these memories grew louder and more insistent. He backed up, feeling vaguely dizzy, and registered that he hit the edge of his bed.

Simultaneously, there was a knock on the door. “Logan, are you in there?” Virgil. Logan sighed, which sounded like a loud gasp for air. Perhaps Virgil might be useful in this moment, at least for temporarily grounding him and decreasing this budding anxiety. “Yes, you may enter, Virgil.” Logan thought that his response sounded quite normal, a decent cover-up for his current state of mind. He was proven wrong immediately upon Virgil’s entrance. “Are they still- woah dude, what’s up? You look like me at 2am” Logan swallowed, which felt considerably more difficult than it should, considering humans swallow saliva an average of 500 to 700 ti-

Virgil interrupted Logan’s racing thoughts. “Okay, I can basically hear you thinking, and it’s making me anxious. What the hell happened up there? I leave you guys alone for one freaking episode and you come back looking like you’re about to put me out of a job. Who do I need to punch?” Logan offered a weak smile, and Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I am- I’ve discovered- I am experiencing some...unpleasant thoughts which appear to have induced some level of physicalized anxiety” Logan rushed out, looking away. A pause. Now you’ve done it, Logan. You’re the embodiment of logic, this display of emotions is unfitting! Virgil is going to be just as baffled as you are, and he won’t fix it because he thinks you’re a freak. Let him leave now so you can continue to reflect upon how useless you’ve been to Thomas and the others.

“Logan, hey. Can you hear me? You don’t have to look, that’s okay. Can you feel what you’re sitting on right now?” Logan closed his eyes. “Th-this feels like the floor? But I wasn’t- I wasn’t here a minute ago…” Logan flushed, frustrated by his stuttering and rapid heart rate. “Yeah, you slipped down there a minute ago. L, I don’t want to freak you out but it seems like you’re having a minor panic attack. Luckily, you’ve stumbled upon the expert. Heh. Cause I’m...ok, nope, wrong time for dark humor…” Logan willed himself to glance up at Virgil and started laughing in spite of himself. Virgil joined in after a minute of half-hearted glaring. “Okay, deflections unfortunately don’t work in the long-term. It uh, usually helps me to do some deep breathing if you wanna try that?” Logan nodded, guilt tugging at him for making Virgil deal with this.

Afterwards, Logan did feel more in control, at least in a physical sense (he should have thought of that, he knows how to address a panic attack, why couldn’t he just think-) “Thank you for your assistance with this...minor anxiety attack, Virgil. I do feel badly that you had to witness and address it, but I appreciate it nonetheless. I’ll be fine from here since you wish to leave.”

Logan looked up again as he heard Virgil scoff loudly. “What the hell gave you the idea that I want to leave? Did you leave your self-esteem upstairs, pocket protector?” Logan’s breath caught in his throat. “It would be impossible to ‘leave my self-esteem upstairs’, as self-esteem is not a physical entity-” he started. Virgil held up a hand, cutting Logan off. Shouldn’t you be used to getting cut off by now Logan? He wants you to shut up! “I really don’t get why you STILL take everything I say so literally. Seriously though, what’s going on? Do I need to get Patton in here?” “NO!” Logan yelled, wincing at his voice. Virgil raised an eyebrow and left without another word. Logan sighed. Having Virgil’s company to ground him in both a literal and figurative sense had been comforting, but it also made everything more painful. Logan realized more than ever how much he would truly miss Virgil’s presence when he finally ducked out, how much he genuinely enjoyed being around the other sides…

“Heyyy there kiddo...Virgil told me that you’re kinda off right now so I wanted to check in! This isn’t about earlier, is it? You know that we care about you!!” Logan willed himself to avoid snapping at Patton, but he didn’t want to risk being vulnerable in front of another side. “Don’t worry about me, Patton, I have simply realized belatedly that I am-” Logan swallowed, looking everywhere but at Patton“-undesirable as a friend and a side of Thomas’.” Logan finally looked up, and saw what he could only describe as pity reflected on Patton’s face. Don’t be melodramatic, Logan. Just explain that you finally recognize your inadequacy and share your intentions to duck out.

“You can’t really think that, LoLo-” Patton started, at the same time that Logan said “I have realized-” Patton opened and closed his mouth a few times before nodding at Logan to continue. “Thank you for allowing me to finish, it’s greatly appreciated. I have realized that my knowledge is disagreeable to you all, and as that is both my primary function and my singular skill, it would be best that I...duck out.” Logan finished, looking up to see Patton’s eyes fill with tears as Virgil and Roman burst into the room, practically falling over each other.

"NOT SO FAST, MICROSOFT NERD" Roman bellowed. "I don’t know where you got such a ridiculous idea, but we certainly don’t want you gone!” Logan adjusted his glasses, uncomfortable. He should have expected this sort of protestation from the others, despite his accurate statements. It is unlikely that the other sides would acknowledge their true feelings about Logan to his face.

“Falsehood. Perhaps you hadn’t specifically considered my ducking out, but I am not daft, Roman. I have noticed your eye rolls and reactions to my presence. I apologize for not arriving at this conclusion sooner.” At this, Logan’s voice cracked slightly. Patton’s eyes widened. “Oh Logan, that’s not true!! Roman and you may have your little arguments here and there but it’s mostly in good fun, right Roman? We totally value all the cool stuff you bring up!” Roman nodded, eyes fixed on Logan as if he didn’t recognize the side behind his insecurities. Logan took a shaky breath, trying to count to four silently. But it was not in his nature to allow false information go without a debate. The voices in his head were pounding, growing louder and more furious, more wild, more hurt. Logan glanced up and met Virgil’s worried stare, Patton’s bewilderment, and Roman’s passionate fury.

“Falsehood, again. As I stated, it took me far too long to recognize that I am….unwanted. But I will not be lied to now in some attempt to spare my feelings...”

“Lo, we are not lying when we say we car-”

                                                      “ENOUGH!!!!”

Logan began pacing again, hands switching between combing through his hair and flailing frantically. “I have compiled specific memories of each one of you asking me to shut up, to exit conversations...for example: just today Roman, you told me that I did NOT succeed in being less invasive, and quite literally slashed my words in half, which Patton thanked you for because you had ‘cut the tension’. Patton, you just said you ‘value all the cool stuff I bring up’, but earlier appeared quite relieved that I had made my presence and voice optional, which you took advantage of by hitting my ‘skip all’ button! I am not useful in providing logic, I am...not useful as a friend seeing as I can’t read social cues or provide joy, s-so….” Logan closed his eyes as he felt tears slide down his cheeks. The barrier had broken. He tried pushing past the others to leave, but a pair of strong arms wrapped around him.

“Logan, I...apologize for what I said earlier. And for anything in the past that has made you uncomfortable. We may have our moments not seeing eye to eye, but at the end of the day you keep me, and all of us in check. You balance us out! And that- meaning YOU- is something we could never live without, you nerd. I’ll admit we have all hit some rough patches recently. Even I, your dashing prince, have been dealing with some...insecurities. So perhaps we have been harsh, and haven’t made enough room to appreciate each other. Especially to appreciate you, Logan. You are...truly amazing.” Logan looked up to see what he could only classify as genuine care and sincerity reflected in Roman’s eyes.

Patton moved to sit beside Logan and Roman, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder. He spoke after a moment, voice wobbly and eyes bright. “Roman is 1000% right, LoLo! And I am so sorry that I didn’t realize you weren’t feeling needed sooner. That is a horrible feeling...But you know what? You are a fantastic friend.” Logan interrupted, “Earlier you said that one can’t learn to care for others from a book, Patton. You were correct-” Patton shook his head, taking Logan’s hand and squeezing it once. Logan...did not hate it. “I shouldn’t have said that. But I did mean it when I said you’re a fantastic friend. You didn’t learn that from a book, Logan. You learned it from being with all of us! You show us you care in all those fun little ways that just scream ‘Logan!!’ And we absolutely love that! And we love you, exactly as you are. You aren’t giving yourself enough credit.” At that, Logan finally smiled.

Patton shot a pointed look at Virgil, who was still standing nearby. “Oh come on, I thought we agreed that my compliments are unspoken??” Several pointed looks. “Fine. Listen...I know where you’re coming from. I don’t think anyone is surprised to hear that I’ve gone through the whole ‘should I be here’ thing on basically a daily basis. But I don’t think Thomas, or these weirdos, or I could function without you. And yeah, you’re not mushy or affectionate in your friendship, which I actually relate to and appreciate because Patton’s hugs are already overwhelming enough-” “VIRGIL-” “-anyway, you show us that you care in other ways. And the fact that we’re saying we couldn’t do this without you means that you are a good friend. We just all show it in different ways.”

Logan stood up, wiping his tears quickly as he approached Virgil. They tried some combination of a hug, back pat, and hand shake before simultaneously deciding on finger guns. Patton started laughing, and they all joined in as Roman yelled “You absolute NERDS” fondly. “Do you believe us, Logan?” Patton asked after they quieted down. “I have reason to believe that these types of things take time to work through, but yes, I do find your words to be genuine and...moving. Thank you all, from the bottom of the heart that I apparently do have.” They all smiled at that, making no comment about the light blush that tinted Logan’s features.

The rest of the night was filled with BBC’s Sherlock, trivia games, and laughter. Once the others had gone their separate ways, even Janus and Remus made an appearance, and Logan found that their chaos was surprisingly comforting. He’d have to unpack that more later. For the moment, he felt content, knowing that while he still had much to learn of emotions and friendship, he actually knew a bit more than he thought. And that was adequate (at least for now).

[fastsalad]

I just rewatched the Melodramatics production of anb and it’s so iconically 2006 I just had to make a post with every single thing that was iconic. This got really long so most of it is under the cut lol

-Gordon looks like my cousin Cassidy

-The sweater vest pattern

-All the stagehands are dressed as nurses which is really clever and blends really well.

-All of Rhoda’s outfits are so iconic and 2006

-Bungee’s little dance during calamari is the reason I live.

-Nancy D’s hairstyle gives me Tracy Turnblad vibes

-RHODA’S HAIR CLIPS

-Roger legit looks like one of those annoying dumbass boys I went to middle school with who would act out for attention I’m sorry I love him but it’s true

-Lisa is so short compared to everyone which makes everything ten times funnier

-The choreography for Heart and Music is also the reason that I live

-Gordon lowkey also kinda looks like John Mulaney

-The doctors facial expressions are the best thing

-Mimi’s voice is actually my favorite thing

-Mimi is so iconic her PURPLE EYESHADOW AFJLHSDL

-Mimi and Gordon’s interactions during Mother’s Gonna Make Things Fine give me LIFE

-BUNGEE’S FROG WALK I’M DEAD

-The little vocal swing thingies roger does during Sailing? Legit my favorite thing.

-Roger: “Yes iiII’d wanna go sail.” Me, sobbing: yes you go you funky little sailor man

-Richard’s face when Nancy D said she was the thin nurse was the actual funniest thing

-Roger and Bungee were in Gordo’s Law of Genetics and I lowkey loved it like it added another layer to the song especially since they were the only two doing the bass parts and they had different choreography than the rest

-get it minister

-Once again, a+ choreography

-At the beginning of And They’re Off Gordon wheeled himself onto the stage in a wheelchair and then dramatically turned his head to look at the audience on beat with the song and it made me chuckle.

-RHODA’S LOW-RISE PANTS AND LAYERED SWEATERS ITS SO 2006 I CAN’T

-Everyone was pretending to be old at some point? Idk

-Gordon’s voice makes me so happy

-The cast just overall has a very nice sound

-Roger’s dad wallet

-“Looking sharp looking fit” guys he’s not wearing a suit what do we say here

-~LisTeN tO RoGeERr~

-Just Go was just overall very cute and funny

-“He’ll be brave as Zorro” does a weird sword fight dance

-Cause it’s gonna ~scaAaAaAre~ them! (Cue Gordon having a heart attack)

-Bungee is iconic as always

-Sitting Becalmed in the Lee of Cuttyhunk was like a weird fever dream but I lowkey loved it

-Nancy D and the doctor getting so excited over brain surgery is my favorite thing

-Gordon looks so confused and weirded out and honestly? Mood.

-RHODA’S SCARF

-“Maybe we’ll lauuuughtooloud” listen I felt that ‘oh shit I waited too long and now I’m behind the music’ moment.

-Gordon and Roger’s voices go together so nicely

-Mimi is literally my favorite

-“What’re ya, stupid? Go and fly with the man!” Made me feel unexplained emotions.

-Roger looks so sad at the end of the song and it breaks my heart

-“Let’s just go over this. You have a home right? Cause I don’t.” This Lisa is iconic.

-Lisa’s facial expressions = also iconic.

-Mr. Bungee’s glasses

-“The preferred word in any kind of situation is- DON’T TOUCH ME!”

-The waitress nurse’s hat and Nancy D’s glasses

-The waitress nurse holding a copy of the actual script for the show during The Yes Song

-The little hand motion Bungee did for “get into my car”

-The zoom in for affinity

-THE FLIP PHONES

-The lighting for in the middle of the room

-The audience loosing it when Richard started singing

-Mimi struggling to get onstage with the crate

-The pictures on Gordon’s bookshelf

-The way Mimi says “asshole” so casually

-The horse head statue and seashell being used as bookends

-The lighting is back for middle of the room reprise

-Rhoda picking up the books Mimi dropped during the scene change

-Roger’s striped polo shirt that just screams sailor

-The return of Roger’s dad wallet

-Just the way Lisa did the “you love him. Too bad.” bit

-And her belting “when life turns out to be” it was different than most actresses do it and gave me chills

-Roger’s facial expressions

-The end of A Really Lousy Day in the Universe like holy shiT MY EMOTIONS

-Brain Dead was really fast and. Vibes.

-Also the minister and waitress switched costumes for brain dead? Strange.

-The waltz choreo

-The single water glass on the table

-“OH LOVERS START ROMANCING” and just the whole green teeth moment. Yes.

-ROGERS PIROUETTES. HE DID LIKE THREE IN A ROW THAT’S FRICKEN HARD

-RHODA’S RAINBOW SUSPENDERS

-Gordon’s little scoff-gasp thing after “tawdry”

-“Yes it is!”

-Just Gordon and Rhoda’s whole dynamic during Whenever I Dream

-The dramatic reveal that Gordon wasn’t puppeteering her at the end

-Rhoda’s clog dancing

-Richard’s superhero costume

-The fact that the video quality dropped dramatically when the lights came down

-The priest/waiter literally sparkling during Eating Myself Up Alive due to the UV lighting

-Richard’s attempted opera singing

-“YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA”

-The end of eating myself up alive reminded me of the ending of The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals.

-The pictures on Gordon’s bookshelf that used to be of him and his loved ones being changed to just photos of Gordon’s face from different angles during the music still plays on

-Gordon playing the piano during the music still plays on

-MIMI TURNING OVER THE PICTURES OF GORDON AND THEN PICKING UP THE LAST ONE (which I’m pretty sure used to be of her and him) AND HOLDING IT BEFORE TURNING IT OVER TOO

-The bookshelf being empty except for the horse and seashell bookends is really chilling

-The whole apartment just looks so much more dreary and empty and lifeless than the first time you see it like props to the set and lighting designers

-Just the entirety of the music still plays on

-MIMI PUTTING ON SUNGLASSES AT THE END

-BUNGEES ENTRANCE

-HIS LITTLE SIDEWAYS HOP

-The way the frog eyes just jiggle around

-“okey dokey” (double ok sign)

-“s p a g h e t t i ! “

-(the biggest, funniest smile) “I  L I K E  S P A G H E T T I ! “

-THE HIGH FIVE

-Just all of bungees little hand gestures and dances

-Gordon’s little smile when he said “I’m ready”

-The fact that them singing “Richards gonna catch some hell for this” is very muted

-The audience slowly and subtly starting to lose it throughout You Boys Are Gonna Get Me in Such Trouble

-Richard’s weird little dance at the end

-THE LITTLE SMOOCH AT THE END OF SAILING REPRISE

-Lisa’s book advertisement

-“MY price? T w o  b u c k s.”

-The gay history book

-Lisa having a feather boa for some reason

-THE FROG HAT

-Roger’s striped polo shirt that just screams sailor part 2

-Whatever the hell that shirt Gordon was wearing was

-LISA’S LITTLE SMILE WHEN SHE HOLDS UP TWO FINGERS

-The fact that she’s so short makes this song even funnier

-The little dance she did for “silly picnic”

-“YOU KNOW I REALLY HATE CRAZY PEOPLE”

-Gordon: (snatches a book) “HA. HA.” Lisa: (snatches the book back and throws Gordon’s cane into the corner)

-This Roger has a softer voice than most who have played the role and it just gave some of the lines a different vibe? And I loved it.

-Bungee coming on at the end without his frog head

-The fact that bungee looks about a third of his age with the frog head on? Like he legit looks ten with it on but like 30 with it off.

-Gordon: (dramatically throws the frog hat offstage)

-get it minister part 2

-Just. Every harmony in this show.

-“Finally there’s sun!” GORDON’S VOICE I’M CRYING HES SO GOOD

-The little clump they form at the end like agdlabkglsfkgak family

-Did I already mention the waitress’s sideswept bangs? So 2006.

-Bungee reminds me so much of my friend Phineas it’s scary

-AND GORDON LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE MY COUSIN CASSIDY ITS SCARY

-the frog noises in the credits

[dumbbelle]

✄ like a moth to a flame (pt.1)

@pristeen-23​ : CRIMINAL MASTERMIND WOOZI AU

>> jihoon is engulfed in his own flames but he sees starlight in your eyes; all you want is to take a selfie with the highlighter-haired boy

warnings: swearing, murder, dispersed angst pairings: woozi | reader ; woozi | s.coups word count: 4599 a/n: this ended up being really long so I’m splitting it up lol

[pt.1] [pt. 2 – coming soon]

“Right, then let’s get down to business.” 

A well-built man stands in front of a crowded bulletin board, mouth pressed into a hard line as he settles on the group seated at the worktable in front of him with a steely glare. Choi Seungcheol was clearly Not Delighted to be here but hey, what else was new?

“Because of a certain blonde fucker hiding behind Minghao over there – Mingyu, you’re the tallest one here, it’s futile to hide – our plans have been delayed, and we lost our last deal.” 

If there’s one thing that distinguishes Seungcheol, Jihoon thinks, it would be a voice that commanded the silence of a crowd and that carried clearly over an entire room. 

(“Cheol… With that voice of yours, I can picture you becoming a rapper in an alternate universe,” Jihoon’s a lot more open after an evening of drinking, and it’s not an unfamiliar sight to find the university students having similar conversations on their shared apartment floor.

“In your dreams, Hoon,” Seungcheol snorts, although Jihoon sobers up quickly at his words. 

“You know I can’t anymore.”)

Despite the man’s relaxed tone, his cutting words are enough to make the tall agent recoil ever so slightly and take a silent step back. Jihoon scoffs underneath his breath, clearly not impressed. 

“What was the first thing I told you boys about covert operations?” Mingyu raises his hand to answer the question and Minghao automatically tugs it down, looking as if he has to physically restrain himself from calling the other an idiot. “It’s to Not! Fuck! Up! You had ONE JOB.”  Out of the corner of his eye, Jihoon can see the gang’s resident peacekeepers (a contradiction in itself, but there was too much to be said about the lack of normalcy in their little group) Joshua and Jeonghan glance at each other in nervousness; it is very rarely that one gets to witness Seungcheol raise his voice like this. “I work with a bunch of dumbasses!”

Did he just…?

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, loudly clearing his throat – and just like that Seungcheol falters, looking caught. Though he manages to hastily school his features into a hard expression, his tone is considerably softer as he speaks once more. “Yes, well, anyway, I’ve gotten us one more chance with these guys. Don’t mess it up this time.” And with that he turns around to the bulletin board, launching into a vivid explanation of their latest job. 

Jeonghan and Joshua allow themselves to breathe a little easier in their seats. 

“You don’t have to worry boss, I’m the best at what I do. There’s no way we can fail.”

You sway your legs back and forth as you sit atop your boss’ desk, swirling around a gobstopper from side to side in your mouth as you try to work your way to the middle. You can feel your boss’ eyes bore into you with flabbergast, and if not for the fact that you are Jeon Wonwoo’s closest friend, you might feel a little self conscious.

You are though, so screw it.

“Y/N, I think you might be missing the point here,” Wonwoo rubs a hand over his face, not even attempting to hide his exasperation, “Even your sketchy ass can’t possibly get us onto the invitation list of the most exclusive party of the year.” He turns his back to you and starts to pace, a habit you’ve come to recognize as Wonwoo in deep focus. You chuckle softly at the sight.

“You’re overreacting,” you sing, sticking out your tongue and crossing your eyes to gauge a visual representation of how much more you needed to go to finish your gobstopper. Just a little bit more! You feel relieved; as a matter of necessity, you had been working at it all day.

“Overreacting? Y/N, we need this story. Imagine being the only online tabloid in years to get the inside scoop from the Carat Gala? This will take us from lowly online tabloid to lowly online phenomenon!” Wonwoo has this glint in his eyes reflective of his undying ambition and hope, so of course you have to be the first person to pop his bubble.

“Boss, hate to break it to ya, but I’m sure it’s gonna take more than one story.” Wonwoo scowls and you shrug as if to say I don’t make the rules, sliding off his desk and stretching your arms behind your head. Before he has to chance to protest your claim, you wave a hand at him. “But don’t worry, I’ll find a way to make it work. You know I always do,” you chirp and casually stroll out of his office, forgetting to close the door behind you.

Wonwoo only watches you go silently, aware that arguing about the last time he had to bail you out for something stupid would only delay an inevitable process. Instead he sighs, slumping into his chair and eyeing the top drawer of his desk.

“Ah, fuck it.”

Wonwoo yanks open the drawer and takes out a gobstopper, popping it into his mouth. 

“Coups, you know how much I hate being referred to as one and the same with the rest of these dimwits,” Jihoon grits his teeth at his best friend, – his literal partner in crime – having finally gotten the chance to say what was on his mind. The two stand in their now-deserted base, Seungcheol not even sparing him a glance as he focuses on rearranging the clippings on the bulletin board in front of him. 

Jihoon feels more than a little bit insulted. 

“Aw, Hoon–”

“–It’s Woozi on the clock.”

“On the clock? It’s just the two of us, Hoon.”

“Woozi.”

“Woozi,” Seungcheol clicks his tongue in annoyance, as if he can’t believe the immaturity of his best friend. Well he can, but this was just not.the.time. “I’m sorry, okay?” Jihoon scoffs and makes to leave but Seungcheol quickly moves to cling onto his wrist. “Okay? We’ve got a job to focus on, it’s not time for petty arguments. And besides, I know you only get this cranky when the nightmares start up agai–”

“Shut up!” Jihoon snarls as he yanks his wrist away. “Shut up.” Once again, he makes his way towards the exit but this time, Seungcheol makes no move to stop him. He pauses at the entrance, and if Seungcheol wasn’t so accustomed to keeping an ear out for even the slightest of sounds, he might not have heard it:

“And you don’t have to worry, I’m the best at what I do. There’s no way we will fail.”

Seungcheol thinks the base feels much bigger when he’s standing there alone. 

“Y/N, this is possibly the stupidest idea you’ve ever come up with, and I’ve known you for five years – heck, I’ve worked with you for two!” Seungkwan is practically vibrating in his car seat, unable to sit still as he contemplates the full absurdity of the looming situation. 

“What’s so stupid about it?” You turn to pout at your junior from behind the wheel, and Seungkwan ushers you to look back to the road. You tsk at him, annoyed. “You’re always such a nervous passenger,” you complain, despite obliging and turning back around to face the road ahead of you. 

“Correction: I’m always such a nervous passenger with you,” Seungkwan dismisses and you huff, offended at his implication. You open up your mouth to make a snide remark but he continues on, effectively shutting you up before you even get the chance to start. “And don’t try to distract me from the real issue here. We’re going to get thrown into jail again because all you can come up with is some half-assed plan.” 

“On the contrary, I feel that the best way to sneak in is to not sneak in at all,” you giggle, drumming your finger tips along the grips of your steering wheel absentmindedly as you try to contain your excitement. 

Seungkwan looks at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “Do you hear yourself right now?” He shakes his head in fascination. “Y/N, believe me when I say that we can’t just stroll into such a high-class event by pretending to be part of the entourage for some A-List celebrity!”

You gasp, scandalized. “He is not just any A-List celebrity! He’s Kim Mingyu, possibly the most handsome young bachelor around right now.”

His confusion is visible. “So?”

“So, he never goes anywhere without a massive entourage. One that would be very easy to blend into, if we play our cards right.” Even through your limited side-eye, you can tell he’s not buying into your plan one bit. 

All of a sudden, he releases a loud groan. “Oh… We’re totally just following him in because you think he’s hot!” He hits head down on the glove compartment of the car. “We’re doomed.” You blush, trying to keep your professional image in check as you deny his accusations. 

“Of course not! Now stop being melodramatic, we’ll get in just fine. In fact, I’ll even bet you 20,000 won.” This gets Seugnkwan’s attention, and he calms down for a second to gawk at you, unconvinced. You almost think to take it back, knowing that you have one too many overdue bills to pay this month and not enough money to do so. However, you’re confident in your abilities as an undercover reporter so you only repeat yourself, louder this time. “I’ll bet you 20,000 won that we’ll get into the Carat Gala scot-free. In fact, I bet we won’t even be noticed.” You stick out a hand for him to shake, and he gently nudges it back onto the wheel.

“You’re on.”

“W-W-Woozi! Oh hi, didn’t see you there… NOT that you’re easy to miss anything, your presence is huge… Goodness, that was not an attack on your height! Just look at me! You’re not short at all, ha ha ha…” 

New recruit Chan is everything that Jihoon remembered himself to be at his younger age: awkward, short, and bad in social situations. He has to hold back a grimace and push down his internalized embarrassment as Chan continues to dig himself further into his grave; eventually, Hansol slams a hand over the kid’s mouth and shoots Jihoon a sheepish smile.

“Sorry about that, he didn’t get much sleep last night.” Chan looks ready to protest but he instead nods bashfully, and Jihoon starts to wonder when the kid stopped looking like one of the most deadly up-and-coming assassins in the business, and instead started looking like an idol group maknae–

He has got to stop visualizing these idol group comparisons. 

Hansol can’t seem to contain his curiosity either, it seems. “But sir, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here?” It’s a valid question, as Jihoon himself usually prefers to control everything behind the scenes from his meticulous computer setup equipped with a bowl of ramen. 

“This job’s important; ergo, we can’t have you inexperienced members messing it up.” Jihoon smooths out his suit in the mirror before giving himself a once-over to check that his earpiece is safely concealed and that his hair is perfectly gelled back. “So I’m coming with you to make sure that doesn’t happen. ” He bends down to comfortably adjust the butterfly knife underneath his pant leg, ignoring the looks that Hansol and Chan share with each other as they finish their own preparations. Obviously, they didn’t take kindly to the way Jihoon talked down to them. Obviously, Jihoon didn’t care.

Standing back up, Jihoon scans the room for the rest of their members. Seungcheol is busy fixing Joshua’s tie, and Jihoon jeers at the almost motherly behaviour. They were starting to feel too comfortable around here, and he couldn’t have them turning soft. The more emotionally attached they got to Seungcheol and each other, the more worried Jihoon got that they would become too emotionally attached to their cases. The last thing he needed was for one of his guys to fall in love with one of their client’s targets.

Turning away, he can see Mingyu moping in a corner, Minghao by him as a comforting presence as he sits by his side and uses his phone. Jihoon glowers; Mingyu’s been acting like this since their last group meeting, and frankly, he is long over it. Making his way over, he catches Minghao’s eye and nods once, a silent dismissal. The sharpshooter pockets his phone immediately before patting Mingyu’s back and gracefully exiting the scene. Jihoon appreciates the ease of process. Why can’t the rest of them be like this? Jihoon stands in his place, looking down at the man. For a few moments, he says nothing, but then he opens his mouth and–

“Mingyu, stop moping around and get off your ass,” Jihoon almost winces at the harsh timbre of his own voice, as it’s not quite the effect he was going for. Nevertheless, Mingyu begrudgingly hulls himself up, refusing to meet his eyes. Jihoon wants so badly to strangle the man but he knows his gang members, so he also knows that doing so would badly jeopardize their team. Mingyu had unwittingly become a key figure in many of their plans, a public icon that acted as their primary gateway and major distraction. Though Jihoon knew they could function without him, it would be much easier if they kept him on board. 

“Mingyu, about the other day…” Mingyu raises his head from the ground slightly so that the two meet eye-to-eye. Good, I’ve got his attention. “Coups has a short temper, but he has little resolve. He’s long over everything. After all, what happened on the ship could have happened to anybody.” Not to Jihoon, but Mingyu looks so damn hopeful that he knows that his battle is as good as done. “As for me, as long as you do what you do best and charm everyone with that kind and endearing bachelor image of yours, we’ll sweep this whole incident under the rug.” Like hell he will, but they’re under a time limit and he needs Mingyu in tip-top condition. Mingyu nods, and Jihoon, sufficiently satisfied, turns to the rest of the gang.

“Any questions?” Silence. “Alright, let’s get on our way.”

“There! That’s him!” 

You push Seungkwan to the side in order to get a proper look at the limousine that arrives by the hotel entrance, a tall celebrity emerging from the vehicle and waving a hand at the paparazzi that immediately bombards him. Seungkwan, used to your treatment, ignores the arrival and only checks to make sure that his camera is safely disguised in his jacket. After all, someone had to be ready for the sneak-shots, and the only other option was busy ogling at some 6-foot-tall socialite. Seungkwan risks a glance. 

“There’s no denying his looks, that’s for sure,” he concedes, eyeing the man’s broad shoulders and toned features. But what really catches his attention are the people exiting the car behind Mingyu, each sporting good looks of their own. Seungkwan whistles. “Y/N, look,” he nudges your attention over to them and you scrutinize the crowd before smiling in recognition. They are all familiar faces to you: Xu Minghao, Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan, Hong Jisoo, Choi Hansol… In-depth Naver stalking had you memorizing the known details of Mingyu’s closest friends and most devoted followers. 

“See? I told you they would be with him. They tag along for every event.” Your eyes continue to follow them until you notice a shorter being amongst their midsts. Strange, you think, furrowing your eyebrows. How could I ever miss him before? Though his highlighter hair is gelled back perfectly and his sharp cheekbones look like they might kill a man, there is this undeniable cuteness about him that you can’t help but linger on. Perhaps it is the height, but you think it has something to do with his demure smile and the way his head bobs around excitedly, seemingly overwhelmed. You realize that he must be new, and a single thought permeates your brain:

I need to take a selfie with him. 

But for that, you had to get in successfully first. When you finally rip your attention from the group, you turn around and place your hands on Seungkwan’s shoulders. He mimics you, squeezing your shoulders in response. “We got this,” you both chant quietly, what had become a treasured tradition over the last couple of years. With one last pat on each others’ backs, the two of you slide around to the front and scurry in to the hotel with the rest of the group before they even have the chance to notice. 

The two of you work in silent harmony, each sidling up to walk ever-so obliquely behind an entourage member, trying to spread yourselves apart; the two of you are harder to catch when dispersed. You can feel a pounding of exhilaration inside your chest, something that you know Seungkwan must be feeling twice as hard even with his dazzling smile. You position yourself behind the short man you had noticed earlier, taking note that Seungkwan quickly chooses a position behind that Hansol boy. He looks a little flustered, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s anxious about getting caught, or if it’s because Choi Hansol looks like a damn doll in person. Hell, they all do.

It was probably a little bit of both.

Your large group arrives to the intimidating doormen and you try and hold your head up higher, knowing that confidence would only contribute towards your success. They’re stiffly straight, clipboards at the ready as they look towards Mingyu. 

“Kim Mingyu,” It’s your first time hearing his voice this evening, and you involuntarily let out a small squeak, not being able to completely restrain your inner fan (okay, so maybe Seungkwan was a teensy bit right). Though not loud enough to be heard by most, you notice Mingyu’s small friend in front of you has now turned to stare at you fully, and you halt. Busted.

Your eyes widen and you glance over to Seungkwan, who has also noticed and looks like he wants to internally combust. You slowly turn back to the man, bringing your hands together in a silent plead. “Please don’t say anything,” you mouth the words but he does nothing to respond, only continuing to stare, and you find yourself quickly retracting any early notions you had about him being cute. You feel unnerved by his unblinking eyes, unmoving expression. Cute? 

Right now, all you see is danger.

As the doormen move you along, the small man simply turns back to face the front and you’re stunned still for a moment, surprised at the sudden turn of events. Before the doormen can get suspicious, you feel Seungkwan’s hand grab yours and tug you forwards.  He gives your hand a concerned squeeze, but it’s hesitant, as if he’s not sure what to be concerned about. You’re not sure what came over you either, so you flash him a reassuring smile and leave it at that.

The moment the two of you are far enough from the entrance, you break from the group and sneak away into the crowd. You make the mistake of looking back, and your eyes immediately find those of the highlighter-haired man. It startles you, the phlegmatic stare that follows you into the crowd. His face is eventually lost in a sea of others, and though your favourite actress is standing just an arm’s length away from you, all you can remember is the look of danger.

The look of fire. 

“Strange, huh?” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod in agreement. “Perhaps he just had bigger problems on his mind than two journalists trying to gatecrash.” You start to wonder if he had been aware of your presence the entire time, but the thought is interrupted when a hand is shoved in front of your face.

“Pay up.”

Seungkwan beams as you take out your wallet from your purse and reluctantly slap two ₩10,000 bills onto the palm of his hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

“That was strange, huh?” Hansol comments airily as he snatches two hors d’oeuvres from a passing waiter. He offers one of the grilled scallops to Jihoon, who only scrunches up his nose as a response. He all at once regrets assigning himself to stick with the two youngest to scope out their targets. But he was not in the mood to team with Seungcheol, so he accepted what came. “Suit yourself,” Hansol shrugs, and holds the food up for Chan so that he can feed him the treat. 

Jihoon is disgusted. “Do you use those same hands to poison your targets?” The two freeze, Hansol slowly retracting his hand from Chan’s mouth. Chan rubs his throat a little, but the other is quick to assure that he “isn’t Mingyu” and that he does, in fact, “have hygienic habits.” Jihoon doesn’t watch the exchange closely, busy looking into the crowd for the two gatecrashers from only minutes before. 

You weren’t very discreet, no question about it. Even Mingyu was able to immediately spot the two of you the moment he exited the limousine, signalling your location to the rest with the hand behind his back. Jihoon was amused as he continued to subtly track your movements, holding back what felt like an actual smile the moment he noticed the two of you performing what seemed like some sort of ritualistic chant. “Mingyu, your fans are fucking crazy,” Jihoon hears Seungcheol mutter, and he has to agree. The absolute lengths that the fool’s fans would go through just to take a mere photo of the guy was astounding, but never did he once underestimate the power of a dedicated fanbase. And then the two of you tried to follow them in. 

If he was amused before then he was downright tickled then. It had been a while since he felt so entertained, but the moment he felt your breath on the back of his neck (you were standing so damn close, he could inhale the light waft of your citrus shampoo), he was left in a state of disbelief. Whose dumb idea was it to gatecrash a party by following the celebrities directly in? Even if they weren’t assassins, the two of you would have been caught. In fact, the matter that they were assassins probably saved your asses from being kicked to the curb; as a matter of priority, they could care less about two fans with big ambitions to party. It was so laughable that he had to smile to himself secretly as they approached the doormen. 

What he was not expecting was the small squeak you let out at the sound of Mingyu’s voice. It was right in his ear, and he felt compelled to finally acknowledge your presence – at the very least to tell you to take a step back. He turned around, and for those few moments he felt as if he was Chan’s age again: awkward, short, and bad in social situations. 

You were… Prettier than he expected, and the way your eyes widened at the sight of him was so pure and innocent that all at once he felt uncomfortable in your presence. Jihoon felt his voice catch in his throat and his lips glue shut, a phenomenon that left him unable to speak. And he saw starlight in your eyes so bright that he got lost in it, wondering if he could follow it all the way back to normalcy. It felt dangerous in a sense, to be so easily taken aback and out of his element; but like a moth, he always found himself drawn to flames. 

“Woozi look, that’s Mr. Jung. Objectivo número uno,” Hansol is whispering into his ear now and Jihoon only nods, embarrassed at having been found off task. “I can go slip some thallium into his drink, if you’d like – you know, the regular stuff. He won’t see it, he won’t smell it, and he won’t taste a thing. I’ll even get Mingyu to cause a distraction,” Hansol almost goes to do just that before Jihoon places a hand on his chest, telling the boy to calm down. Jihoon long accepted that the boy was trigger (read: posion) happy, but that wasn’t how he did his work.

“Calm down, assess the situation first. There has to be some reason that our clients want him gone. Figure it out.” Hansol looks reluctant but he doesn’t argue, pulling Chan off to do their work.  

“Hoon, stop stressing out the poor boys with useless work,” Jihoon damn near decks Seungcheol as the man miraculously appears by his side. The leader took pride in being the only person to be able to sneak up on the short killer, and all Jihoon wants to do is to punch the smirk off his partner’s face. 

“Woozi.”

“Woozi, stop stressing out the poor boys with useless work, I know you already have all the data filed up here,” Seungcheol taps Jihoon’s head fondly, speaking as if he’s doing so more out of obligation than out of actual concern. He loops an arm around Jihoon’s neck in a friendly manner and Jihoon doesn’t hesitate to shove it off. 

“It’s a good exercise.” Unlike too many in this damn business, Jihoon didn't take on jobs blindly. Even if he considered it a policy to carry out jobs once accepted, Jihoon liked to know all the details behind a kill. Information was power in this day and age, and Jihoon likes power. But he’s not about to elaborate since Seungcheol already knows that, like Jihoon already knows his sole purpose on this earth was to try and piss him off as much as possible.

“Don’t you have a person to be pulling teeth off of or something?” He says it distastefully, not a particular fan of Seungcheol’s more sadistic forms of torture. Jihoon is an elegant assassin, but Seungcheol made them look like barbarians. “'We’ve got a job to focus on.’ Sound familiar to you?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “Tag team’s got it covered. Besides, we’re already here and things are falling into place.” And if Jihoon was being honest with himself, he could in fact hear the faint groans of pain emitting from his right earpiece, the pathetic cries for help playing like soft music in his ear. Joshua’s cynical laughter is present as well, and if Jihoon wasn’t so fucked up himself he might be concerned with how quickly the agent could change personas in the blink of an eye. 

But Jihoon is fucked up, so he only plays dumb.

“If that’s the case, then you should be there helping them,” he puts on a smile, bowing at a popular television host who passes them. 

“I could, but it’s more interesting here with you, my favourite person in the entire world~”

“Fling yourself into the sun.”

“Hoonie~” Jihoon hates how his glare doesn’t phase Seungcheol, but he ultimately supposes that came with the whole ‘childhood friend’ nonsense. He stares straight ahead, not wanting to give Seungcheol the satisfaction of eye contact. “I was talking to those two who followed us in earlier.”

Jihoon gives Seungcheol the satisfaction of eye contact.

Seungcheol snickers, pulling out a business card and tucking it into the collar of Jihoon’s suit jacket. “Journalist for Pledis Publishing. Thank me later.”

Jihoon hates Seungcheol a little bit less.

[pt.1] [pt. 2 – coming soon]

[thepathsofdestiny]

White Lies

~*~ Five lies, spoken with confidence. Five doubts, whispered in the dark.  A day in the life of the Phantom Thieves, starting in sunlight, ending in fog... The third installment in my Tailwind series, after Small Steps and Two of a Kind.  Read it on AO3 here.  ~*~ Ever since Shiho Suzui stepped off the roof of Shujin Academy, she’d had vivid, recurring dreams. In one, she’s sitting on a subway platform, bathed in an eerie red light. In another, she’s having her fortune told by a girl in blue with butterflies in her hair. Since she got out of the hospital, she’d started having a third: a dream of riding on horseback through a forest, banner flying in the breeze.

It was from this particular dream that Shiho awoke, sprawled on a spare futon on Ann’s bedroom floor. She raised her arms above her head and stretched, sighing. She could still feel the echoes of her dream; the ghost of a bow and arrow in her hands, the caress of the wind in her hair. She ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, blinking the sleep away, shaking the phantoms from her fingers. She looked up at Ann, an undignified heap face-down in her pillow, hair arrayed every which way. She was half-falling out of bed, one arm hanging off the edge and brushing against the floor. Shiho reached forward and tucked a lock of hair behind Ann’s ear. It did little to tame her wild blonde mane- it was like trying to use a brush and dustpan to clean up after a hurricane- but nonetheless, it brought a smile to Shiho’s face. Ann Takamaki. Her joy. Her light. I see you’re still as smitten as ever. Shiho’s smile faded. Shiho brought two things with her when she left the hospital: the dreams, and the voices. You’re pathetic, the foul voice whispered in her head. “Shush,” Shiho hissed. Ann stirred. She pushed up off her bed, hoisting herself up onto her elbows. Shiho’s heart skipped a beat. Ann was an angel in the morning light, her flaxen hair shining like a crown. Her lips curled into a beatific, if drowsy, smile. “Good morning,” Ann purred. Hearing those words, in Ann’s smoky, early morning voice, was a lethal combination. Shiho clapped a hand over her heart as if it might physically burst out of her chest. “Good- Good morning,” Shiho said, swallowing hard. She realized she was staring. “...Ann… you look-” “Terrible. I know.” Ann nodded to the dresser. “Pass me my brush?” Shiho did so. Ann’s finger curled around hers and squeezed, for just a moment, before pulling away. “Time to tame the lion,” Ann grinned, setting to work on her tangled mess of blonde waves. Shiho found herself struck by a sudden, absurd envy- not for Ann’s hair, which was indeed lovely, but for Ann’s brush. You’re obsessed, came the whisper. “Be quiet,” Shiho exhaled. “Huh?” Ann blinked. “Nothing,” Shiho said quickly. “You stay here. I’ll get breakfast ready.” “Breakfast? Oh, Shiho- Shiho, wait-” Ann protested and followed her down the hall, her brush lodged in her hair. ~*~ “Shiho, you don’t have to-” “Shh,” Shiho shushed. She caught Ann’s shoulder as she tried to stand and pushed her back down into her seat. “Really, it’s no trouble.” “You’re my guest,” Ann pouted, her brush still hanging tangled in her hair. “You don’t have to cook for me.” Shiho smiled. It wasn’t like she was even doing much cooking- she’d reheated leftover rice and miso soup. The closest she got to cooking was holding a pair of prepackaged salmon fillets under the broiler. “You should have a traditional breakfast at least once in your life,” Shiho murmured. “Although, I looked, and I couldn’t find any natto…” “I’ll be damned if I ever keep natto in my house,” Ann grumbled. “You need to eat,” Shiho pressed, joining Ann at the table. “Real food, I mean. What were you going to do, just eat breakfast at the crepe stand?” Ann’s damning silence spoke for itself. “Ann,” Shiho scolded. “People have crepes for breakfast!” Ann said, defensive. “Not the ones filled with ice cream,” Shiho teased. They ate together, daylight streaming in through the kitchen window. They moved around each other with the comfort and ease of a pair who had done this countless times before. For now, at least, the poisonous voice in Shiho’s head saw fit to keep quiet. “Did they say when they’d be back?” Shiho asked gently. “No. It’s some work thing. Who knows how long it’ll take,” Ann shrugged, flippant, but unable to meet Shiho’s eyes. “It doesn’t bother me. It just means I have the house all to myself.” “Does it ever get… lonely?” Shiho wondered. “...Yeah,” Ann admitted. “This place is too big when it’s just me here. Too many high ceilings. Too many empty rooms.” Ann exhaled, eyes distant. Shiho silently noted the framed family portrait on the kitchen counter- Ann as a child, her hair done up in pigtails, swinging between her parents, hand in hand. She barely came up to her parents’ waists. There were other photos of Ann framed around the house- single portraits, school photos. But there were no pictures of Ann with her parents where she was any older than in grade school. “Someday, I’ll get my own place, some tiny little piece-of-shit coffin apartment,” Ann murmured. “It’ll be tiny. But it’ll feel cozy. Lived in. It’ll feel like a real home.” ~*~ Shiho did the dishes while Ann got dressed, having finally won her battle against her bedhead. “Shiho?” Ann called from the other room. “Yes?” Shiho answered. “Have you seen my running shoes?” “They’re still in your school bag,” Shiho said. “You went to get them cleaned, remember?” A shuffle. Two thumps on the floor. “Thanks!” Ann called. Shiho smiled as she wiped a soup bowl dry with a hand towel, bathed in sunlight from the open window. This was all so… normal. So soothing. Waking up to her smile. Saying good morning. Making her breakfast. Brushing her hair. All this, she had already, without any melodramatic confession. What would telling her matter now? Really, how much would change? You’re being selfish, came the voice, and for once, she found herself agreeing with it. She already had more than enough. What else could Ann give her? Chocolate on Valentine’s Day? A kiss at the door? Ann’s voice drifted to her from the doorway, and Shiho pushed away that fruitless, treacherous desire. “I’m gonna head out,” Ann said, checking the fit of her shoes. “Where to?” Shiho asked, joining her in the threshold. “I’m meeting up with Ryuji,” Ann explained. “We’re gonna do some training. Maybe get a run in.” Shiho looked down, shifting her weight on her legs. Ann’s eyes went wide. “Oh, Shiho, I’m so sorry. That was so-” “I’m okay,” Shiho said, offering a pained smile. The truth was, though she’d only been standing a few minutes to wash the dishes, they were already starting to ache. A walk was an effort. A morning run, impossible. “Tell Ryuji I said hello.” “I will,” Ann nodded. “And we’re still on for lunch at the diner in Shibuya, right?” “Of course,” Shiho nodded. “I’ll see you at the station.” Shiho offered her hands, and Ann took them. It came naturally to her; a reflex. Their eyes met, just a moment too long. “I… um.” Ann blinked, the faintest hint of red tinging her cheek. “I’ll… I’ll see you.” “Yeah,” Shiho smiled. “Take care.” Ann gave Shiho’s hands one last squeeze, and then she was out the door. Shiho exhaled, taking in the quiet that settled over the house, the spacious rooms bathed in daylight but ultimately empty. It always ends like this, whispered the voice in her head. “Be quiet,” Shiho snapped, but there was no one there to hear. ~*~ I. I’m fine on my own. (I’m nothing without you.) ~*~ When Ann told Shiho she was going to meet Ryuji for some training, well, she wasn’t lying. Not entirely. She just left out the part where she and Ryuji were going to do it in the world of the collective unconsciousness, holding the literal inner demons of some hapless Tokyoite at gunpoint. “Enough, human!” sputtered their quarry, a Robin-Hood-looking fellow dressed in green, with purple skin and a nice hat. “I yield!” “Not yet, you don’t,” Ryuji growled, a dangerous grin on his face. “Give it up!” Ann demanded. “Let’s see your cash!” “T-Take it!” The demon gasped, turning out its pockets. Crumpled bills and grimy yen coins clattered onto the pavement. Ann nodded to Ryuji. Ryuji lifted his shotgun and rested it against his shoulder. “Alright,” Ryuji said, jerking his head down the tunnel. “Get out of here. Beat it!” “Humans are such dreadful creatures…” The demon muttered, and scurried off into the dark. Ann and Ryuji shared a look, and their tough guy images shattered. They laughed, crouching down and counting up their take. For manifestations of the collective unconsciousness, their money was apparently perfectly legal tender. “Oh man,” Ryuji snickered, scooping crumpled bills into a duffel bag that Akira, once upon a time, had written ‘FUNDRAISING’ on in fat black marker. “Is it just me, or are these green guys way more loaded than the others?” “We’re getting good at this,” Ann grinned. “Wonder what that says about us.” “I’ve almost got enough to pay Akira back for that trip to the amusement park,” Ryuji grinned. “Which means after that… You, me, that fancy-ass buffet at the Wilton Hotel. What do you say?” “Will it be just like last time?” Ann smirked. “You’ll get all meat, and I’ll get all dessert?” “Hell yeah! The ol’ Steak n’ Cake!” “That… sounds delicious. It’s a date, then!” “It’s not a date,” Ryuji rolled his eyes. “I swear, you and Akira always gotta make it weird…” “You love it.” “I know.” Ryuji zipped up their “fundraising” bag and slung it over one shoulder, his shotgun propped up against the other. The darkness of Mementos sprawled out around them, an otherworldly place made in the mockery of subway tunnels, lit only by an eerie red light. He and Ann started walking along the wooden tracks, prowling for their next target- and their next payday. “So what’re you gonna spend your cut on?” Ryuji asked, strolling down the tunnel. “You know, I’m torn,” Ann shrugged, matching Ryuji’s languid pace. “Devil Hunter 5’s coming out in, what, a week? But I heard they’re also doing an HD remake of 4…” Ryuji snorted. “You already put, like, 250 hours into 4. You’re really gonna buy it again for some nice textures and extra pixels?” “Oooh, but I need to! They’re adding these bonus bosses called ‘Apex Demons’-” “250 hours, Ann! That’s, like, two weeks!” “It’s not!” “Yes it is!” “Only a week and a half…” Ann pouted, delving further into the depths. ~*~ A Shadow shrieked and disintegrated in a plume of fire. It vanished into smoke and inky darkness, leaving a nonplussed Ann standing in its wake. “Whoops,” she said, sheepish. “Aww, Ann!” Ryuji whined. “Don’t torch their cash, too…” “Sorry,” Ann smiled. “It’s alright,” Ryuji said, easing the bag slung over his shoulder. “We’ve been at it for awhile. Maybe we should think about heading back…” Their little ‘fundraising’ trip had been fruitful, indeed, leaving their pockets heavier and their hearts stronger- a little too strong, in fact. Most of the Shadows at this depth were simply fleeing at the sight of them, and those that stood their ground were obliterated before they could give up the goods. Ann didn’t mind. They’d already gathered a small fortune- by high-schooler standards, at least- and now, she was just enjoying a relaxing stroll with her best friend.   Ann smiled. When did she and Ryuji get so close? They knew each other in middle school, but they weren’t particularly good friends. It just snuck up on them, after Akira transferred to Shujin in April- it just happened, a little bit of warmth that got swept up and lost in the mayhem of the past few months. One rainy day in April, they were just two of the school’s outcasts, keeping each other at arms’ length- a girl everyone thought was easy, a guy everyone knew for picking fights. Just four months ago, Ann wouldn’t have fought for him. Wouldn’t have died for him. Hell, four months ago, she wasn’t even calling him by his first name. Just look at them now. Those were really busy months. And Shiho had been gone for almost all of it. Ann stopped in her tracks, heaving a sigh. Ryuji glanced back at her over his shoulder. “...Whatcha’ thinking about?” Ryuji asked. “Shiho,” Ann said softly. “That sounds like you,” Ryuji grinned. Ann made a face. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean…” “Forget it,” Ryuji waved the thought away, but something stopped him. He caught Ann’s eyes. “...Um. Actually…” Ryuji asked, suddenly serious. “...How have things been with you and Shiho, lately?” Ann stopped. Blinked. “They’re fine…? Where did that come from?” “Nothing, it’s nothing… it’s… I dunno, something Akira said...” Ann put her hand on her hip. “What did Akira say?” “Alright, alright,” Ryuji said. “It was just, y’know, when we were leaving the amusement park a couple days ago. You were taking Shiho back to the station, and I was with Akira, and… I dunno. He just said you two looked good together, that’s all.” “Did he really say that…?” Ann murmured. She shook her head. “Wait, no! It’s- It’s not like that-” Ann saw the dubious look Ryuji was giving her. She sighed, defeated, red creeping onto her cheeks. “...It’s… a little like that. Maybe. I’m not sure. I’m still… figuring it out.” Ryuji nodded, an earnest look in his eyes. “I feel that. I think we’re in the same boat.” “Yeah?” Ann sighed. “...Look, I still haven’t told her anything- and- and you! You better not say anything, either!” “Dude, I wasn’t gonna,” Ryuji rolled his eyes. “Hey. Realtalk? I know this isn’t any of my business…” “He says, and then keeps talking,” Ann grumbled. “...but why haven’t you said anything to her?” “Because there’s nothing to say. Not yet. I don’t know,” Ann groaned. “I told you, I’m still figuring it out. Maybe I could’ve said something the day Shiho got discharged, but then she told me she was transferring out of Shujin, moving to the countryside… I don’t know, okay? She just got out of the hospital, she’s been going through a lot. It just… never seemed like the right time.” “Alright,” Ryuji shrugged. “But… you are gonna tell her, yeah?” “I will,” Ann said softly. “Once I figure out what to say.” Ryuji nodded, somber. “Don’t leave it too long.” Neither of them knew what to say after that. So, they just started walking, slowly tracing the lengthy path up out of the shadowed depths and back to the comforting light of reality. “You surprise me, sometimes,” Ann admitted, casually, as they picked their way through the tunnels. “You can be a real sweetheart.” “Careful, Ann,” Ryuji grinned. “You almost said something nice about me.” “Shut up. I’m serious. Just now, you were really… I dunno. You were being really sweet.” “You think so?” Ryuji shrugged. “Well, thanks. I guess Akira’s been rubbing off on me.” “Geez. I sure hope you’re buying him dinner, first.” “Annnnnd now it’s weird…” ~*~ They rose through the tunnels of Mementos, every surface bathed in that otherworldly red light. The trek up to the entrance was turning out to be a lot longer than they thought. Shadows shrieked and scurried away as they walked past, sparing them from having to fight, but they still had to make the long walk back. “Oh man,” Ryuji muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. “This is a slog.” “‘Long is the way, and hard, that out of darkness leads up to the light’,” Ann recited, her breathing ragged. “...That’s John Milton’s Paradise Lost, y’know.” “Sounds like some stuff Makoto would read,” Ryuji groaned. “Only thing I’ve lost is feeling in my legs.” “Speaking of Makoto, we better hope she doesn’t catch us,” Ann said. “Why? Because we’re technically not supposed to be down here?” Ryuji asked. “Nah,” Ann replied. “It’d just be a shame to have to split the money three ways.” The tunnels snaked out around them, a maze of wooden railway tracks and shifting shadows, each tunnel looking just like the last. The only sense they were getting any closer to the surface, beside their own wordless intuition, was the air smelling cleaner, and the light getting brighter. “Ugh…” Ryuji groaned, starting to fall behind. “...it feels like we’ve been walking in circles…” “Don’t talk like that,” Ann glanced back at him, putting on a smile. “We’re not lost. We’re almost there. We’re… almost…” Ann froze. There was something behind them. A huge, hulking figure, robed in darkness, rattling chains… Ann heard a voice- small, stricken with terror. It took her a moment to realize it was hers. “We’ve stayed here too long,” Ann whispered, eyes wide. “Ryuji…” “What? What’s with that face?” Ryuji wondered. He turned. Swallowed. “...Oh.” The robed figure lifted a hand, pulling back the hammer on a huge, silver revolver. “So...” Ryuji swallowed hard. “...think we can take him…?” It fired, the roar of the gunshot deafeningly loud in the enclosed space. Ann yanked Ryuji behind a column. The shot tore past them, down the tunnel, trailing a vacuum wave so powerful it felt like a train was speeding past. Another roar. Another bang. Ryuji ducked, pulling Ann down. The pillar exploded right above their heads, showering them with debris. Ann winced into Ryuji’s chest as chunks of concrete bounced off Ryuji’s arm and his armored jacket, clattering like hail on a tin roof. Ann ducked out of cover, and raised a hand to her mask. “Carmen!” A geyser of flame erupted at the shadow’s feet. It passed through the flames, barely even flinching, leveling its long-barreled revolver and cocking the hammer. Ann jerked back into cover. The magicked shot went wide, striking the next pillar down and freezing it solid. Ann fell back into cover beside Ryuji. Another roar, another bang, and the frozen pillar shattered like glass. Ryuji grimaced. Just what the hell was this thing? We’re outgunned, mate, came a voice from within him. We take a broadside like that, and we’re going under! “Ryuji,” Ann said, breathless. “Carmen says it’s time to go!” “You’re telling me!” Ryuji hissed. “But if we stick our heads out there-” Another gunshot rang through the tunnel. A distant pillar exploded, covered in shivering lightning. “That!” Ryuji said. “That’ll happen!” “How are we going to get out of this…?” Ann muttered, downcast. Ryuji swallowed hard. He caught Ann’s eyes. “...Alright. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll go out first, get his attention. Then you can make a break for it.” “Ryuji…” Ann said softly. She laid a hand on Ryuji’s cheek, gazing into his eyes. Then she slapped him across the face. “Don’t you ever give me a line like that,” Ann said, fire in her eyes. “We get out of this together, or not at all!” That was when they saw it- a light through the clouds, a glimmer of white in the shadowed depths. A white butterfly, flitting past. The robed figure saw it, too. It stared at the light, transfixed, lowering its guns at its sides. It turned, and followed the butterfly down the tunnel and back into the depths. Ann and Ryuji didn’t waste any time. They ran, and they didn’t stop running until they saw the light of day. They burst out onto the street, the murky darkness of Mementos melting away to the sharp clarity of the real world. Their masks and costumes vanished as they returned from the Metaverse, leaving the two of them doubled over, panting for breath, with a duffel bag full of cash and their lives remarkably intact. They flopped onto a park bench, still fighting to catch their breath. The people of Tokyo just bustled on by, oblivious. Ryuji wondered what he and Ann looked like, to them. Just two friends, on their way back from the gym. Not people who just escaped a monster by the skin of their teeth. “What the hell was that?” Ryuji muttered. “Some kind of mega-Shadow?” “I don’t know.” Ann breathed. Their eyes met. All the adrenaline flooding their systems suddenly turned into something else. Ann and Ryuji grinned at each other. Grins became snickers. Eventually they were just laughing together, overwhelmed with relief, suffused with the sheer astonishment and gratitude for just being alive, being together. “Holy shit,” Ryuji giggled like an idiot. “We could have died!” “I know!” Ann cackled. “That was awesome!” They laughed until they were spent, giggles subsiding into content sighs. They leaned into each other, Ann bumping her head affectionately against Ryuji’s, like a cat. “You slapped me,” Ryuji said, playfully indignant. “Yeah, I slapped you,” Ann said. “You were about to pull some hero shit and get yourself killed.” “Well, I’m glad you did,” Ryuji grinned, squeezing the bag on his lap. “We got out of there. We got the goods. Everything went off without a hitch!” “I wouldn’t say that.” Ann and Ryuji snapped to attention. Makoto was standing in front of the station, arms tight across her chest. Her piercing red stare was cold and hard, but nonetheless, there was the trace of a smile on her lips. “Enjoying the weather, are we?” Makoto asked. “Makoto!” Ryuji said, shoving the ‘fundraising bag’ into Ann’s arms. “Uh, lovely… day… isn’t it…?” Ann blinked down at the ill-gotten-gains cradled in her arms. “Um. Makoto. We can explain…” “Come on, you two,” Makoto smiled, but it was a dangerous smile. “Let’s take a walk.” ~*~ II. We know what we’re doing. (We’re in over our heads.) ~*~ “Shiho, I am so, so sorry…” “I understand,” Shiho said gently. “These things happen.” “Listen, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll cook for you tonight. Then we can have a nice, home-cooked meal, just the two of us. How does that sound?” “It needs to be real food, Ann, not just sweets. Are you sure you’re not just going to pick up ice cream on your way home?” “I mean, I can’t promise I won’t get ice cream…” “Ann.” “Alright, alright. Are you gonna be okay until then?” “I’ll be fine,” Shiho smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.” “Yeah. See ya!” Shiho tucked her phone away with a sigh, clasping her hands in her lap. She was sitting on a park bench near Shibuya Station, watching the crowds go by. She wondered if this was what it would be like to be a ghost, just watching the world go on without her. Nobody paid her so much as a passing glance. There was an odd sort of comfort to that. It was comfortable, being invisible. Really, only two people had ever had eyes for her. One of them was Ann. The other, well… He could rot in prison, for all she cared. The very thought of him made her head spin. Shiho shook the thought away, and let her vision settle back into place. She reached down and massaged her aching calves. The trip here had been… difficult, but it had been a labor of love. At least, until Ann flaked on her. She stood you up, came the whisper in her ear, irritable, toxic. She stranded you out here. “It’s not like that,” Shiho whispered. “Ann’s not like that.” Shiho pushed her frustration down, buried it. Ann got tied up. It wasn’t her fault. Shiho took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to let this get her down. It was a beautiful day, even if there were a few clouds speckling the horizon. She didn’t need Ann to lead her around by the hand. If she was going to be in Shibuya anyway, there was plenty she could do. She could still go to the diner, get something to eat. The gym was out, but she could still go to the arcade, maybe see a movie… Shiho frowned. The arcade would be crowded, and too noisy for her tastes. And seeing a movie without Ann wouldn’t be the same... You just can’t do anything for yourself, can you? Shiho shuddered. She ground the heel of her palm into her eyes. “Stop it,” she muttered, shaking. “Leave me alone. Just leave me alone…” ~*~ Across the city, Makoto was meeting Akira in his attic room at Cafe Leblanc. Akira watched her quietly as she opened up her binder and flipped through a sheaf of notes. Every so often, she’d pull out the mechanical pencil she had tucked behind her ear and would jot something down in her impeccable shorthand. Before Makoto joined the Phantom Thieves, they never took notes. They didn’t need to. They knew what they were good at, and they did it; Akira called the shots, Ann did the talking, Ryuji led the charge, Morgana fit into tight spaces, and Yusuke… well, he did his own thing. Ann was the beauty, Akira was the brains, Ryuji was the brawn. And then Makoto comes along, with an abundance of all three. There was a lot to admire about Makoto Niijima, Akira knew. Now here she was, in his room. It was just a shame she was here on business. “So,” Akira said, by way of conversation. “What happened to Ann and Ryuji?” “I gave them a stern talking to. Ryuji tried to placate me by bribing me with brunch, because, in his words, I ‘seemed like the brunch type’. Then, when I said that two in the afternoon was a little past brunch-time, he offered to buy me a late brunch instead.” “...Did you tell him that, at that point… it’s just lunch?” “I did,” Makoto said. “Then I treated them to crepes, because something sweet always takes the sting out of a scolding.” “I suppose you speak from experience.” “If you knew my sister, you’d know,” Makoto said. She primly pulled her binder shut and looked up at Akira, her red eyes flashing in the dim light- beautiful. Vivid. Dangerous. “But this isn’t about her, and it isn’t about them. This is about you.” Makoto pulled Akira’s duffel bag up off the floorboards and dropped it onto the table with a thud. “Or, rather, it’s about this.” “Oh!” Akira blinked, staring at the word ‘FUNDRAISING’ on the side of the bag. It was written in big block letters, in marker, and in his unmistakably messy hand. “You know, I was wondering where this bag had been. Thank you.” Makoto folded her arms across her chest. It wouldn’t be the last time Akira would be sitting across a table from a Niijima, drumming their fingers against their arm, fixed in those piercing red eyes as if he were in crosshairs. “You know the rules,” Makoto said. “You made them yourself, long before I ever joined the team. No one enters the Metaverse without backup, and especially not without Navigator support. No one goes after a target without unanimous approval.” “I don’t think anyone needs approval just to shake down nameless Shadows,” Akira said. “Anyone, or just those two?” Makoto pressed. Akira opened his mouth, then closed it again. Makoto’s expression softened. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just don’t think it’s appropriate to make exceptions like this.” Akira sighed. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. If you or Yusuke ever want to go into Mementos and do some ‘fundraising’ in your free time, you’re free to do it, too.” Makoto balked at him. “That’s not what I mean! Are you even taking this seriously?” “I am!” “Oh, like when you lost 100,000 yen to some con artist in Shinjuku?” “I got that back! ...Eventually!” “Or how about earlier this week, when you spent another 20,000 yen going to the amusement park?” Akira faltered. “...Okay, yeah, that one was-” “You are the leader of this team,” Makoto said, stabbing an accusing finger into Akira’s chest. Neither of them remembered when they’d gotten to their feet. “You are responsible for them. All of them! Not just the ones who currently hold your fancy!” The intensity of Makoto’s conviction made Akira’s heart race. Having her so close, with so much fire in her eyes… it was something, alright. He was almost disappointed when she took a deep breath and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” Makoto exhaled. “That was a terrible thing to say.” “No, I’m sorry,” Akira said. “It must be frustrating, trying to get us organized when before, we were just making it up as we went along. And I know it must look like I’m being flippant and not taking this seriously, but I promise you, I am.” Makoto shrugged and sat down, deflated. Suddenly, this all felt so… childish. “There are rules,” she said, lamely. “Rules are fluid,” Akira went on. “Like love. Come on, if I made exceptions for everyone I had feelings for, I’d have to make exceptions for the whole team.” Makoto smiled, despite everything. “What are you saying, Akira? That all you have are relationships of convenience?” “That’s not at all what I’m saying,” Akira continued. “I’m saying it’s about trust. I trust Ryuji. I trust Ann. I trust Yusuke. I could trust you, too. If you let me. If it’s what you want.” Makoto smirked, intrigued. “...You wear so many different faces, Akira. How do I know which one to trust? How do I know which one is the truth?” “Why can’t it be all of them?” Akira asked. “Because then you’d have a heart full of secrets, and promises to keep.” “If I promise you my heart, Makoto, it won’t be a secret.” “Careful, you,” Makoto smiled. “This isn’t a social call.” “More’s the pity,” Akira said lightly. “What else do we need to discuss?” The playful mood faded, and turned somber. Makoto pulled out her phone, and tapped an icon. Her phone screen displayed the familiar black and red interface of the Metaverse Navigator. “There is one thing I wanted to ask you,” Makoto said, her voice low. “About a hit in the Metaverse.” Akira jolted upright. “How do you know about Shiho Suzui?” “Ann’s best friend? No, this is about… my…” Makoto blinked. “Wait, what about her? What’s happening to Shiho?” ~*~ III. It’s under control. (I’m losing control...) ~*~ Ann stood in line at the store, eyes clouded, lost in thought. After their misadventure with Makoto, she and Ryuji had parted ways- but not before Ryuji had shown her this little hole-in-the-wall shop, and told her not to be late for her ‘date’. Pfft. Now who’s making it weird, Ryuji? This was just a… girl thing. Ryuji wouldn’t understand. Akira wouldn’t either. Shiho was her best friend. Shiho was a girl. Girls hug other girls all the time. Girls brush each other’s hair, and have sleepovers, and share clothes, and hold hands, and… Makoto would understand. She was a girl. She’d know that it was different with girls, than with guys. She loved Shiho. And Shiho loved her- she said as much, a month ago when she and Akira helped her climb up to the roof of Shujin Academy again. Shiho hugged her and said she loved her. But that was just a matter of fact, not some… confession. Just like how she was going to cook dinner for Shiho, not because it was a date, but because Shiho made breakfast. And now she was getting her this gift to make up for getting tied up and flaking on lunch. It was only fair. That was just a girl thing. And so was this. You’re a terrible liar, Carmen said into her ear. “Hush,” Ann whispered. It was her turn in line. “Hello, dear,” the clerk said, as she picked out a ribbon and a tag for Ann’s chocolates. “Are you getting these for someone special?” Ann smiled. “Yes, thank you. I am.” ~*~ Ann ran inside just after the rain started sheeting down, kicking the door shut behind her. She groaned, trailing water all the way into the kitchen. She haphazardly threw her grocery bags into the fridge, before opening up the pantry and hiding Shiho’s gift with a bit more care. “God, Shiho, it is pouring outside…” Ann said, wringing her pigtails out into the sink. “And just when I got to the door, too! If only I’d gotten here just a little sooner…” It was quiet. Deathly quiet. Aside from the rain slopping against the walls and the roof, the house didn’t make a sound at all. “Shiho?” Ann called. She turned away from the kitchen sink, peering into the living room, up the staircase. “Shiho?” ~*~ IV. She’s just a friend. (She’s always been…) ~*~ Shiho’s afternoon passed by in an eyeblink. She went to the diner, visited the arcade, browsed the underground shopping mall, went to see a movie. She wished she could have done all this with Ann, instead of going alone. But she was never alone. The voice followed her wherever she went, whispering poison, fouling her mood. Then, as Shiho was making her way back to the train station, the voice did more than whisper. Shiho was a block away from the station when it happened. When the sun had fully set, and the sky had filled with clouds, dark and heavy with rain. A drop of red fell from the sky and stained her vision. Shiho blinked, but the stain wouldn’t go away. She watched, frozen in her tracks, as it spread across her eyes. Static spread across the screens mounted on the walls. Every brick, every tile, took on that sickly red hue… Shiho ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, but her vision didn’t settle back into place. This was a dream. This was just a bad dream, another souvenir from her stay in the hospital, alongside the pain in her legs, the whispers, the dissociation. But this didn’t feel like a dream. And it didn’t feel like her dissociation. Three months ago, you couldn’t mention the name Suguru Kamoshida without her blacking out for hours at a time. She’d catch his name on the news, glimpse a headline about the scandal at Shujin Academy, and that was enough to send her over the edge. The world would shatter into shapes and shadows and splotches of color, until her meds put her out, or Ann brought her back. This didn’t feel like that at all. This was wrong. This was very wrong. A hand closed over Shiho’s arm and she shrieked. “Watch your step, young miss!” A man said- an older man, in a suit, with a receding hairline and a polka-dotted tie. “You almost fell down the stairs!” Shiho’s vision swam. In one world, a staircase. In another, a tunnel, stained with red… Pain surged through Shiho’s limbs. She took a halting step forward. The man leaned forward, studying her eyes. “...Young miss, are you… feeling well…?” “...Let go of me…” She growled. He released her arm with a start. Shiho shuddered, and took another shaky step. The crowd parted around her, barely sparing her a passing glance. A moment later, the crowd vanished entirely, giving way to a desolate, twilit gloom. The voice came to her again, not a whisper in her ear, but rising up through the tunnels, a rumbling echo like thunder in the distance. This has gone on long enough. Now, you’re mine. “Let go of me!” Shiho screamed, as she took another unwilling step into the dark. “Let go!” ~*~ V. Everything’s fine... ~*~ Akira stood on Cafe Leblanc’s doorstep under a too-small awning, gazing out at the suddenly torrential rain. Sojiro was inside at the bar, grumbling about how the rain had to spoil a perfectly good day of business. Akira went ahead and flipped the “Open” sign over to “Closed”. If Sojiro hadn’t given up on the rest of the evening yet, he would soon. No one ever came to Leblanc when it rained, especially if it meant stepping out into this. Still, Akira stood out in it, while the awning above him valiantly attempted to keep him any less than completely soaked. He stood there, surrounded by rain and dreary gray, lost in thought. He stuck his hands in his pockets, and felt the familiar weight of his phone. He slipped it out, tapping an app icon of an eye with a star for the pupil, in black and red. “Welcome to Metaverse Navigation. Please state your query.” He raised his phone to his lips. “Shiho Suzui.” There was a chime. “One match found. Please specify your destination.” “Gymnasium,” Akira guessed. Nothing. “Hospital. Volleyball Court. ...Rooftop…?” Akira sighed. It was useless. The MetaNav detected a distortion in the Metaverse related to Shiho Suzui, but that alone wasn’t enough to go on. She might have a Shadow. She might even have a Palace. But even if she did, they still needed to know the form her Palace would take, and where the entry point would be in reality. They needed more information. Until then, they could do nothing. It was the same conclusion he and Makoto had come to that afternoon, but it still didn’t sit right with him. Was waiting really all they could do…? The rain spattered against the street and misted in the air. Akira thought he saw something- a white light, perhaps a butterfly- but it was too far away, and vanished into the fog before he could be sure. His phone buzzed in his hand. New message. Akira opened the chat and his heart sank. “Oh, no,” Akira muttered. He combed his fingers through his hair. “No, no, no…” Ann’s icon blinked urgently on his screen. ‘Has anybody seen Shiho?’ ~*~