#to nobody's surprise i'm very late to answering my own questions

[pseudowho]

Grey

You live a vigilante life, taking down Curses and Curse Users on commission. When finances force you to take a job from Jujutsu High, you find yourself stumbling into Nanami Kento's lap, where he has a proposition for you instead.

ThatHigurumaBathScene! But with Nanami Kento. Post Shibuya AU.

Warnings: AU!MorallyGrey Nanami Kento, Hot/ColdDom Nanami Kento, 18+, deep throat and other goodies, you know what you're here for.

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I hate to say I'm beginning to see My own reflection in my adversaries [...]

What's the price of a soul? What's its worth versus gold? I tried to beg for mine But it was already sold

Does nobody think twice? What does your hell look like? Does everyone have their price? Where they finally break

-- Sylosis, A Sign of Things to Come

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"So what can you tell me about this...Rogue sorcerer, that will make him easier to find?"

The backstreet diner was dimly lit, with a sickly orange light flickering above the window outside. Sounds and smells of greasy cooking seeped into your ears and clothes.

You swirled a spoon in your mug, already pissed off with the Jujutsu High representative, who seemed to find new ways to be spectacularly unhelpful with every answer he gave.

"He uses...a blunt blade of sorts. Wrapped in white cloth. He usually wears a suit. A tall man, I hear."

"Tall and in a suit. Right. That narrows it down. Thanks a lot."

The representative bristled. "You come highly recommended, despite being...unconventional," he sneered at you,  "The sorcerer in question has been tracked to somewhere in this vicinity." A marked map, along with a slim folder, was tossed across the table to you. The representative stood, brushing imaginary crumbs off his suit. "You know your task. Convince him to come back and work for Jujutsu High again, or eliminate him. He's too unpredictable. He threatens the fabric of sorcerer society."

You were silent, appraising the folder's contents. "Threatens the fabric of sorcerer society," you scoffed. They said the same about you. Any sorcerer acting independently of the higher-ups' control, whether a danger to good people or not, was seen as a danger, a rogue element. You would make your own assessment of the man, if you found him.

For now, it was late, the sun long gone down. You had insisted upon all expenses paid, alongside a generous wage, and were surprised when your price was agreed upon immediately. As such, a very exclusive hotel had a room reserved for you, for as long as you needed it. It was of no real comfort to your sinking loneliness, but a warm bed came second to a warm companion, when living on the move never guaranteed a good night's sleep. Picking up the folder and your bags, you headed to your hotel, to begin your hunt for the nameless rogue sorcerer first thing in the morning.

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The hotel had a beautiful restaurant, you considered, sipping your wine with quiet hums of approval. Leaning forwards, your chin on your arched fingers, you pondered over dessert. As you perused the menu, you barely glanced at the tall figure pressing briefly against your side on his way past your table.

"Excuse me," murmured a low, smooth voice. A spiced, warm cologne filled your senses as you turned briefly, watching a tall blond figure walk away from you. You thought nothing more of it.

After dinner, on your way up the hotel room's corridors, you felt through all of your pockets, certain you had picked up your key card, but hopelessly unable to find it.

By the time you reached room number seventy-three, you were forced to accept you had lost it. Yet, you were about to turn on your heels and head back to Reception when you noticed the door, already slightly open. Sensing a trap, and holding little but disdain for traps, you walked in with confidence, closing the door behind you, locking it.

Scanning the room, you called out; "I'm not that easily spooked. I'm not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with me."

You heard a low, sultry chuckle from the bathroom, the gentle swish of water sounding as something shifted in it. You may have been forced to eat your words, when a rush of Cursed energy that was so powerful, so heavy, hit you, a sandstorm on a desert. You had a sinking realisation that your rogue sorcerer may have hunted you down, before you'd hunted him.

"Are you going to come in?" the smooth voice called from the bathroom, as you forced yourself to take a breath. "I don't bite." Shaking yourself off, you pressed your body flat to the wall, concealed, as you pulled open the bathroom door. A few moments passed, and nothing happened. You heard the man, humming a song to himself. Slow swishes of water.

Glancing in, your tummy twisted as you took in the sight before you. Lying spread-eagled in the full bathtub, fully-clothed, was a man as well-grown and vast as his Cursed energy. Long legs, clad in an expensive black suit, and thick thighs pressed over the lip of the tub, wet clothes clinging to every peak and mountain of the man's body, leaving little to the imagination. In his hands, a small pair of dark glasses. His face, as of yet, not visible, but his left hand and his neck were covered in thick, red burn scars.

"Somebody's been using my bath," you offered, more nervous than you sounded. Heat pooled in your belly as the man chuckled again.

"Does that make me Goldilocks?" he asked, "I always thought I was more of a Daddy Bear." He lifted his head, looking at you now, and you blushed. Outstandingly handsome, even with deep scarring, you groaned inwardly to yourself, why are the problematic ones always so handsome?

"I've heard a lot about you," the blond man mused, swirling the water with his fingertips, his visible slim brown eye burning up and down your body, and you felt so completely seen, feeling his gaze burn even through his eye patch.

Outwardly cool, you smiled slightly at him, eyes narrowing; "Then you probably already know what I'm here for." The man sighed, in equal measures amused and exasperated.

"Jujutsu High have been after me returning to their sloppy little books for years. What did they think sending you after me would do?" He polished his glasses, before looking to you sternly, "Unless they've recruited you, hmm? Is that it? Are you a honey-trap?" You scoffed, your blush only deepening, much to the blond man's amusement. Swiftly and to your alarm, the man began to climb out of the bath, water cascading off him. Your stomach clenched again, desire coiling within. This man is an Adonis.

He raised his hand to you as you flinched, reaching for your weapons; "Calm down. I have no interest in hurting you." The man straightened, dropping his suit-jacket to the floor with a wet slap. "Those pieces of shit at Jujutsu High, however..." He approached you slowly now, looming over you, disgust in his eyes, "...who have no regard for your wellbeing, or any of their own sorcerers and students for that matter, would happily send you to try to threaten me back, even when they know it would be a fight you could never win."

He pressed against the wall above your head with his forearm now, leaning down to your ear and whispering.

"What was it you said, Little Bear? I'm not trapped in here with you; you're trapped in here with me." Your heart thumped behind your breasts, but you raised your head to meet his eye, one hand on his chest to prevent him getting any closer. He grasped your hand, pressing it to him, "The name's Nanami Kento. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Shit shit shit. "Nanami Kento? The Nanami Kento?" you cried, "They sent me after you? You're not even--" you faltered, and Kento smirked as you caught on.

"Not even, strictly speaking, a Curse User, no," he finished for you, "Just not at their beck and call. I hunt what I want, when I want. Freelance, if you will. Just like you, Little Bear. So tell me, are you in such dire straits, a talent such as yourself, that you needed to accept me as a job?"

You huffed, head turning to the side, and Kento traced his eyes down your breasts, hardening inside his wet trousers.

"You don't only kill Curses, Nanami," you deferred, "you're a man-killer too. Your kill count is impressive to say the least."

Kento eyed you shrewdly, voice low and slow, "Would you call them men? Rapists, abusers, murderers...there are all sorts of monsters in this world." You gulped. You didn't disagree with him. It was becoming rapidly apparent that you could not complete this job. Despite his assurances that he would not hurt you, his huge frame blocking your exit, the way he had stolen your key card at the restaurant to intercept you, and the threat you posed to his vigilantism, spoke differently.

"You could always come with me," Kento purred, "we're kindred spirits already.  And a bit of company might be a pleasant change. I'll pay you whatever they promised." His soft assurances were warm and honeyed against your ear, and you felt acutely how lonely you were.

"I don't need your money," you spat, pushing him away now, furious with yourself for even considering his offer. Kento stepped reluctantly away from you, a prize which he had every reason to allow himself to be caught by. You, the stories of whose exploits Kento had drank up, coming to hunt him down? He was flattered and thrilled when his informant at Jujutsu High warned him.

"Imagine what a team we could be," Kento growled, pacing in front of you, incensed that you couldn't see how simple and beautiful the solution could be.

In truth, you saw it. You saw yourself working with this man on your shared aims. You saw yourself ridding the world of Curses and monsters without agenda, but with him. It was with a sinking feeling that you knew if you chose to go with Nanami, the brittle mutual understanding you had with Jujutsu High to leave you alone as long as you offered them occasional services, would be lost. You risked becoming an enemy, a rogue element like him.

"It's not what I came here for," you responded stiffly, Kento wide-eyed with fury at your rejection, scarred skin strained against his eye patch. You straightened, putting a brave face on your fragile resolve as you turned your back on him, grabbing the door handle. "I won't be coming with you. I'll tell Jujutsu High exactly what you think of their offer. It won't be me who bothers you anymore."

As you moved to leave, you felt strong, corded arms move around you to hold the door closed, one wrapping tightly around your waist. Your heart nearly leapt out of your mouth.

"Stay," Kento urged, pulling you back to him.

"I thought you killed rapists," you spat at him. His arms stiffened around you.

"Please, don't compare me to scum. I don't need to rape you to get you into bed with me." Despite yourself, your pulse throbbed in your ears, and between your legs. "You're lonely. I'm lonely. We have shared goals. We could defy their system together." His mouth ghosted against your neck and he was delighted to feel you shiver against his tongue.

Feeling bolder, Kento laid his hand over the back of yours, grasping, and pressing them flat together against the wall. As he leant you forwards, his teeth sank into the back of your neck, and the wetness from his suit seeped through your clothes. He was so close, you couldn't tell where you began and he ended. The urge to give in was dizzying, images of chasing a different life with this man rushing through you a mile a minute, and you felt him pause for a moment, shivering against you.

"Cold," he murmured on your neck. "Have you ever taken a bath in your clothes?" You couldn't answer him, too overwhelmed by the press of his cock, insistently rigid, against your back. He kissed your neck again, hard. "Just to feel something." His fingers, cool and rough, slipped underneath the bottom of your shirt, nails grazing against the sensitive skin of your stomach.

"I don't...Nanami, I'm not..." He groaned, still breathing heavily against you.

"I want you," he intoned against you, "Maybe you can have something better than what you came here for."

"You're...you're a stranger to me," you gasped, resolve crumbling, body crying out for affection and release.

"I don't have to be," Nanami pressed, squeezing your hand, joined with his against the wall, "so let me show you what being needed really is...and then you can decide what you want to tell Jujutsu High."

Kento turned you round to face him, his one visible warm brown eye hooded with desire, beginning to unbutton his own shirt as he stroked your jaw, maintaining eye contact. You stared him down, vulnerable, tearful and overwhelmed. His thumb swiped across your eyes, hushing you softly.

"I know you don't want me to stop...do you?" he purred, his voice low and dangerous. You trembled, never wanting to find companionship like this, but sinking into Nanami's insistent control felt so intoxicating. Increasingly fearful of your own desires, you backed away to the wall again, pursued by Nanami, who blocked you in place, his knee pressed against the wall and between your legs.

"Please..." you began, begging him for...what? Pleasure? Or escape? You warred with yourself, as Nanami finished removing his shirt, wet and peeled off his body, and gods was he a sight to behold. His taut muscles and roughly hewn burn scars drew your eyes to his chest, drinking him in. Nanami smirked, tilting your chin up to him and pulling you in firmly for a kiss which broached no argument. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Nanami took full advantage, plundering his tongue into your mouth, filling your senses with whiskey and smoke. Your arms, numb with shock, were grasped by Nanami, one by the wrist and placed against his burned chest, and one slipped under his belt, your palm flat against the trail of hair on his abdomen, just deep enough for your fingertips to graze the base of his cock.Your fingertips flinched back, and Nanami's hand pressed over yours, holding your fingers in place, his tongue trembling against yours as he shivered.

"Do you want me to stop?" he rumbled again, his mouth beginning to make a course down your jaw and neck. Leaning away momentarily, he read your face, flushed with pleasure, tears of rage in your eyes. Nanami chuckled behind your ear, nipping your earlobe hard until you squeaked and cringed. You didn't want him to stop, but couldn't be a part of making this decision for yourself. Nanami pushed your hand deeper behind his belt, the flat of your palm now pressed hard against his throbbing erection, happy to make the decision for you. Tentatively, you squeezed him, cock pulsing enticingly against your fingers, and he groaned into your mouth.

Nanami's last reservations about your willingness fell away completely, and he grabbed your jaw roughly, his hand extending to your throat and squeezing the sides, deepening his kiss. You squeaked again, your nails digging into his chest, heat flooding through you as he maintained the pressure of your hand holding his cock behind his belt, rutting forwards into your palm. Nanami felt his pleasure beginning to peak, too early, and held his hips and your hand still for a moment,your panting breaths mingling together.

Silent, heart visibly racing through the thick veins in his neck, Kento dropped to his knees in front of you. His expression stern, determined, he gripped the front seam of your trousers and ripped them open as if they were made of paper, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time, daring you to stop him. Lifting your thighs onto his shoulders as you gasped, wordless and chest heaving, your hands fell flat against the wall behind you, and Nanami rubbed his nose and lips against your puffy folds, all but completely exposed behind your soaked underwear. You clapped your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out as he inhaled deeply through his nose, euphoric in the smell of you.

"Do you want me to stop?" he hummed, the vibrations rumbling through your clit as you moaned, a high-pitched keening sound. Instinctively, both hands came off the wall to sink into Nanami's damp blond hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding his face between the heat of your legs. Rumbling his approval, Nanami's fingers swiped your underwear to the side, his tongue delving deeply between your folds, immediately beginning to flick insistently over your clit.

All rational thoughts went out of the window as Nanami licked and sucked between your legs, full attention paid to your pleasure, as you fell apart around him, thighs squeezing his head. Nanami's strong hands cupped your bum through your trousers, kneading the plush fat as he took your clit into his lips and sucked, feeling you shake as you approached the edge.

"Do you want me to stop?" he growled, and you couldn't stop yourself from whining your displeasure as he halted just before your orgasm hit you. Giving you no chance to answer, he took your clit firmly between his lips again, mouth and tongue hot and wet between your folds as you came, crying out and trembling, both hands clawing desperately at his hair, blinded by the peppering lights in your eyes.

Giving you no time to snap back to reality, you felt yourself being lifted and heaved over Nanami's shoulder.  He kicked the bathroom door open, carrying you through to the bedroom and lounge, dimly lit by the Tokyo skyline outside. Nanami dropped you on your back onto the table, positioning you until your head hung off the edge. Neck extended as you stared up at him, panting, eyes glazed, Nanami hummed as he slowly fingered the outline of your throat, his other hand undoing his belt. You gulped, mouth watering as you realised his intentions.

Lifting his heavy cock out of his trousers, Nanami began to stroke it, thumb swiping across the leaking tip, and he looked down at you, pupils blown with lust. He pressed two fingers into your mouth, shuddering with anticipation as he felt your tongue run against his fingers, licking the precum off his fingertips.

"Do...you want me to stop?" He forced out, pupils dilating as you opened your mouth for him slowly, invitingly. "Oh, fuck," groaned Nanami, pressing his length past your lips, hissing as the sensitive tip glided over your tongue and hit the back of your throat, curving to its shape, and he bucked into you, hands gripping your jaw and throat with bruising force as you gagged around him.

Nanami pulled out for long enough for you to take a deep breath through your nose, before fucking your throat with total abandon. Your wet gags and sloppy occasional breaths sent him reeling, his fingers resting on the outer edges of your throat thrilling him as he felt his cock bully past them. Hearing Nanami cursing, his voice breaking with stuttered moans, you felt heat coil in your belly, hands reaching out to grip his wet thighs to ground yourself. You felt so used, eyes streaming into your hair as he reached down your body, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached between your legs and curved two fingers up into your pussy, still wet from his tongue, his thumb swiping urgently over your clit. You convulsed, your hypersensitive clit tossing you into a painful second orgasm as your muscles fluttered against his curled fingers.

"Do you...do you want-- ahhh, fuck, take it take it, you're such a good girl," Nanami caged youin, hands flat on the table beside your waist, his balls hot and heavy against your nose as he came with a shout, rivers of cum trickling down your throat as you gagged, nails digging into his thighs as he rutted into your mouth, stunned by the strength of his orgasm. He pulled out of your mouth, sweaty and panting, his abs heaving in front of your face, stroking drops of his seed away from the sides of your mouth as you gasped and coughed on the table.

"Not enough," he gasped, stroking himself, half-hard already as the sight of you, spread and messy with cum on the table, "it's not enough. I'm not finished with you yet." You began to sit up, turning on the table, moving slowly towards him as he spoke again, stumbling and sweating, "Do you want me to--" Nanami was cut off by your kiss, forceful and determined as you locked your arms behind his neck.

Groaning appreciatively, carrying your weight as you locked your legs around his waist, Nanami stumbled to the bed, kicking off his trousers and beginning to rip your clothes off you. Your breasts freed, he latched aggressively onto your nipples, growling against you, completely absorbed in his plan to pound you into the mattress until you saw stars.

You bit into his shoulder blade as your trousers and underwear were flung unceremoniously aside, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance, where he bottomed out in one smooth thrust, making you shriek as your pussy stretched, and you grasped onto him as you struggled to accommodate his size. Unexpectedly intimate, Nanami clasped his hand to yours, joined as he braced on his forearm above your head.

"I can't...I can't stop," Nanami choked out, slamming into you with a force that had you reeling. Barely held in place as his hips slammed yours up the bed, you locked your ankles behind Kento's hips, and he grasped you, pressing your knees to your chest until you were folded in two. Feeling his eye patch about to slip loose, and momentarily afraid you'd be disgusted by him, Nanami buried his face in your neck, grunting with every thrust as you mewled in his ear, your fingers deep in his hair, causing shivers down his spine.

You groaned, sultry and guttural, as his thick cock pounded your cervix, shuddering as you came, heat deep in your belly as Kento collapsed onto you, weak and drained as his seed filled you again, so overwhelmed by pleasure that he thought he may have seen god for a moment.

Flopping beside you on the bed, Nanami patted around above your head for his eye patch. Your hand reached up, grabbing his, lowering it to clasp together between your bodies. Nanami felt his chest clench, momentarily touched by your companionship and easy acceptance of his broken body.

"...what the hell am I going to tell Jujutsu High?" You groaned, as Nanami laughed richly, shooting you a wicked look.

"You'll come with me, then?"

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[artificial-transmutations]

Beating Recession

Recession sucked, that much was clear to Logan even before he checked his email inbox. When he saw a few replies to his job applications from the last days, he sighed. He didn't need to open the mails to know that the news was bad, but he did so anyway.

"We regret to inform you..." - Logan didn't even read on. He had lost his job as an apprentice electrician about half a year ago. The company was going under, and Logan, the youngest and least experienced worker, was the first to go. That's how it was in this business. Since then, he had applied to every single position that came up - but apparently, the current economic situation was so bad that nobody needed another worker.

Logan had hoped that his apprenticeship would get him a job, but the fact that he was only 20 and had not much practical experience hurt him. Slowly, money was becoming a pretty big problem. Whatever savings he had (for some real estate of his own! As if that was going to happen!) had melted away over the last months. His rent was due, and he had no income.

In fact, he was one month late with his rent already, and although his landlord had been cool about it, Logan did not see how he would be able to keep his apartment. He really, really wanted to avoid moving back in with his parents who had their own problems, too.

So, what was he going to do? There wasn't much more to do than keep looking for a job, even though his chances were slim.

He opened LinkedOut and looked for openings, just as he had done multiple times before this week. The sparse list of jobs had not changed, so Logan scrolled on.

He was about to give up again when a listing caught his eye.

"Escape unemployment today! Change™ job agency will find the perfect job, for the perfect you. Apply here!"

He had heard of such agencies before, and the results were not pretty. Usually, they just took the applicants' data and sold it on. They would claim to have found a job for you, but it usually wouldn't work out, and the applicant would have paid money for this useless service. Still, Logan was curious enough to click the link. If they wanted money, he would back out immediately - it was not like he had any to spare.

To Logan's big surprise, when he clicked the link, a new page opened, with a web-based chat interface. Before he could close the tab again, there was already a message in the window. It read:

"Kevin: Hey, and welcome to the Change™ job agency. My name is Kevin. How may I help you today?"

It was a nice surprise that they didn't try to sell him anything or even ask for his data before he had entered the website. Well, no harm done. He might as well give them a try. Hesitating slightly, Logan's fingers hovered over the keyboard before he typed:

"Hi. I'm Logan and I'm looking for a new job."

The answer came quickly, but not so quickly that Logan would suspect the other person to be a chatbot. After some moments, Kevin's reply appeared on the screen:

"Great. What kind of job are you looking for? And what kind of salary are we talking?"

Logan considered the questions. This was probably the point where they would ask him for his data. He silently cursed his excessive caution. Of course, they had to ask these questions. How else should they offer him anything?

"Uhm. My last job was as an apprentice electrician, but at this point I would be pretty happy about just any job. The salary should be high enough to pay my rent."

Logan hesitated before hitting enter. He didn't want to come over as quite so desperate, but the truth was, he was.

"Okay, no problem. Do you have a preferred working sector?"

What a weird question. Why did it matter what industry he preferred?

"Uhm, not really. I guess anything is fine."

"Very well. Before I look up what's there in our database, I would need some basic information about you. Namely gender, age, ethnicity and sexual orientation."

"Wait. What does my sexual orientation have to do with a job? Besides, why do you need to know my ethnicity? Is this even legal?"

Logan had typed furiously and pressed enter before thinking about his reply.

"I understand your confusion. We here at the Change™ job agency strive to find not only a job, but the best job for the best you, so we need to know what we're working with. It wouldn't be very appropriate to apply a person as an actress who is really good at sports, now would it? Of course, you have to understand that your answers are confidential and will not be disclosed to any third parties, especially not your future employer."

That was fishy deluxe. Logan really didn't want to feed some unknown job agency all that highly personal information. On the other hand,... what did he have to lose?

"Well, I guess it can't hurt. Uhm. I'm a male, 20 years old, I would call myself white and I'm heterosexual."

"Wonderful. One last question: Are you comfortable with nudity and public sexual activities?"

"Wait, WHAT? I mean, uhm, sure, I guess? I mean, why should I need that?"

"This question is purely to determine if we should also have a look in the adult entertainment section of our job offerings. Alright Logan, please stand by while I enter your data into our search engine."

Logan leaned back. He felt a bit uneasy about all that. But it was not like his answers could lead them directly to his apartment, so he felt relatively safe.

A minute or so passed, and Logan started to think that he had been tricked after all, but just as he was about to close the tab, a new message appeared.

"Sorry for the delay, I had a few calls. We found two jobs that could be a fit. The first one is an office job in a big insurance company. To be honest, it's not that good of a fit and it doesn't pay very well either."

"That's fine." Logan wrote. He was incredibly on edge now. Could it really be so easy to find a new job? And he even had a choice?

"What's the other one?" he added to his previous message.

"Okay, the other job is a bit more unconventional, but we have the feeling it could be a great match. It's an actor position in the porn industry, at the famous XXX Incorporated."

"Porn? What? Are you serious? I mean, I don't have anything against porn or nudity or whatever, but I'm not sure if this is the kind of job I want."

Logan felt mixed feelings. The prospect of being some office drone sounded pretty uninteresting and a low pay wasn't all that good either. But a porn actor? Logan had to admit, the thought felt somewhat interesting, but he doubted he had what it took for that? Weren't porn stars famously hung and well-built? That was certainly not Logan. Just as he pondered those thoughts, Kevin's answer appeared:

"I understand Sir. So, should we continue with the first job opening then?"

Logan bit his lip, but the curiosity got the better of him.

"Wait. What does the second job entail? I mean, I'm not exactly... equipped for the porn business."

"Well, as I have said: It's an actor position, so you would star in some new adult entertainment productions. While I understand your modesty, our records show that you are more than adequately gifted for this kind of job."

Logan felt confused. He absentmindedly scratched his crotch before he replied:

"Uhm, sorry, I don't think you understand. I don't really think my..." Logan paused. Was he really going to write that? It was embarrassing, but at least he could be reasonably sure he would never meet this Kevin in real life. So, he continued:

"... penis is big enough for such a position."

The answer came promptly.

"Really? Better have a look to be sure ;-)"

A winking smiley? That wasn't very professional. Actually, the whole sentence wasn't. Still, Logan couldn't stop himself from glancing at his crotch. What he saw made him take a double take. His soft cock was forming a visible and ample bulge in his jeans. Logan knew that he was slightly smaller than average, so that was ridiculous. It was almost a... a porn star-sized bulge!

He stared at his package, but it wasn't growing any smaller. With trembling hands, he opened his jeans. Immediately, a well-filled pair of boxers escaped the confinement of his jeans. The dick print of his soft member was clearly visible in his underwear, and it wasn't just much bigger than Logan remembered. It was among the biggest bulges he had ever seen in his life!

His hands explored the impressive manhood through his underwear and felt every centimeter of the hardening dick. He had no idea what had caused this growth, but he wasn't complaining. Before he could interact more with it, however, he noticed another message on the screen.

"Are you still there, Sir?"

"Sorry, yes." Logan hurried to reply. What was he going to write? "I was below average just a few moments ago but now I have one of the biggest cocks in human history"?

Instead, Kevin answered.

"Good! I trust you had a chance to inspect your assets?"

"Uhm, yes."

"So, have you made up your mind, or should I look into the office position?"

Logan was torn. He wasn't sure what he had seen just a moment ago. Still, his enormous cock that was half-hard in his boxers was there, undeniably.

"Let's go with the porn star position." Logan finally typed, and his heart was racing.

"Very good! Now, as I mentioned, the position is in the adult entertainment sector. Do you know the company XXX Incorporated?"

Logan thought quickly about it before replying: "No, sorry, never heard of them."

"That is not at all surprising, since they specialize in the adult sector for homosexual men. According to your data, you identify as heterosexual. I hope that won't be a problem?"

Of course, there was a catch. Logan had heard about these gay for pay people and he hesitated yet again. They paid well, supposedly, but...

"Uhm. Would that mean I would need to be on the receiving end?" He wasn't too close-minded and could imagine kissing another man if he had to, perhaps even receiving a blow job from one. But having another person fuck him in the ass? No, that was way beyond his comfort zone.

"I believe the technical term you are looking for is 'to bottom'." Kevin replied, and added another message shortly after:

"But the company is, in fact, looking for a 'top' actor. They put it like this: 'We are looking for a well-built top for our new productions.'"

Logan was relieved. While he was a gold star gay man (why did he put 'heterosexual'? That was utter bullshit!), he was a strict top. This position sounded better and better. Still, one thing raised some new doubts.

"Hold on. I'm hung like a horse, but I wouldn't say I'm very muscular or even fit. I'm not much of a gym goer."

"Are you sure ;-)?"

Again, with the winking smiley! Kevin sounded so very professional most of the time, but then there were these messages. Logan scratched the back of his shoulder with some effort. Whenever he raised his arms so high the mountains of muscle on his upper arms danced and made it difficult to reach his back. Logan suddenly realized that something had changed - again! His shirt strained against his muscular chest, and as he lifted his shirt, he could see some cobblestone abs on an otherwise flat stomach. His calves had become thicker and strong. His jeans, which had felt slightly loose earlier, now seemed to be getting tighter.

Logan had never been very athletic. His body was lean, but not fit or muscular. That had certainly changed. When he looked at himself, he hardly recognized himself anymore. A huge dick, and a studly body.

Logan shook his head and let the shirt fall again. Whatever was going on, it was not a bad thing, was it?

"Alright, so I'm a buff top with a big cock. Is there anything else?" he smiled as he wrote that.

"Actually, there is one further requirement, but given your cooperation so far I don't believe it will be much of a problem either." Kevin replied, in his professional tone again.

"And what would that be?" Logan was intrigued.

"The company is especially looking for a, and I cite, 'huge, dominant Black top with large dick. Intellectual capabilities are not required'. Are you feeling up to that task? ;-)"

This time, Logan immediately raised his shirt to watch his body change. As soon as he read the words, his skin began darkening, first a golden bronze and then a rich black. It was a gradual change but happened very quickly. His muscles became even more defined, and his body hair thickened and grew even darker.

He didn't know what 'intellectual capabilities' meant, but as his body grew larger and thicker, he felt a strange fog entering his mind. It was a little unsettling at first, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. His usual thoughts quickly became overshadowed by his raising libido. As he grabbed his huge, Black throbbing cock, a dominant smirk crept on his mouth.

He turned his attention back to the computer and typed:

"Yeah, baby. I think I can make that happen. Just tell me who to fuck and I'll be there!"

He saw Kevin reply with a street address and a date and time, but Logan decided he would read that later. Now, his cock demanded his entire attention. He absentmindedly noticed his webcam turning on but paid it little attention. If Kevin wanted to watch him jerk his fat cock, he was very welcome to. After all, he just helped him find the job of his life!

That's certainly a way to beat recession! Also check out this blog!

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Asking your friends for help when you need it is starting to feel good instead of scary. Even listening to Cat open up doesn't sting like it once did. Bradley starts to have an ominous feeling about his upcoming mission, and when the details are revealed, he's left wondering what his career will be like in the future.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

There was truly something to be said for the way you felt after you talked to Dr. Genevieve. Even though your period was a few days late, and you had been holding out hope, you didn't go quite to pieces when it did end up starting. Sure, there were some tears as you opened up a new box of tampons, but you didn't dwell on it as much as you had the past several cycles in a row. 

In fact, when you thought you couldn't take the physical pain of your cramps and the mental pain as well, you called Maria. You told her that you didn't want to be alone and asked if she could stop by. And she came over with a backpack and some donuts. 

"What's in the bag?" you asked as you bit into a Boston cream. 

"Clothes for tomorrow," she replied, petting Tramp while she ate a chocolate donut with sprinkles. "I figured I could sleep over."

"You don't have to," you whispered, now feeling a little embarrassed. 

But she just shrugged. "I've been a little lonely, too. My new roommate has never been as fun as you were."

"Nobody is," you added, biting into a second donut. You figured you earned it, since you'd started to get back on track with what you were eating. "Thanks for joining me in the cafeteria at work."

"Thanks for actually coming to lunch. Cam is hella boring to eat with every day."

You groaned and headed for the couch with a bottle of wine. "Ugh, I left you hanging with Cam. I'm sorry." You were going to be better about taking care of everything. Yourself, your marriage, Bradley, and your friends. 

Maria just laughed and followed behind you with two glasses and a corkscrew. "I love him, but he's still a dude. And just inherently dumb. He can't help it."

The girl talk ended up spiraling into a great weekend, and when you went to work on Monday morning, you still felt good. And Bickel had been a saint, not acting weird or giving you too much distance at all since you broke down hard in his office. Sure, maybe he was asking you how you were feeling with a little more frequency, but he kept your workload the same and never questioned anything you handed in to him.

And then there was Cat. Since you kind of blew the Jake thing up in her face, she'd been very quiet. Jake was still claiming nothing was going on now, but you'd never have been able to get an answer out of Cat one way or the other. And now you were thinking maybe you should have just minded your own business. Because Jake seemed melancholy, and he hadn't actually ended things himself even after he learned about Uncle Hondo. 

"Good morning," you said to Cat later in the week when you walked into the lab. She seemed surprised you were greeting her.

'Hi," she responded, slipping back into her usual state of calm immediately. "If you're about to ask about the calculation set, I'm almost done. I just need another hour or two."

"No rush," you replied. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today?"

She eyed you skeptically. "In the cafeteria?"

You shrugged. "Or my office?"

When Cat didn't respond right away, you wanted to kick yourself. But then she said, "I feel like you and I just keep getting off to bad start after bad start with each other. I'd like to eat with you, but I don't want to go down to the cafeteria. At all. Just looking at Lieutenant Seresin makes me want to hide."

"Care to elaborate?" you asked cautiously. 

She just smirked. "Sure. Over lunch. In your office."

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

Bradley had stripped down to his underwear and gym shorts, and he was currently trying his hardest to meditate on his bed. Bob had spent the last several weeks patiently trying to explain to him exactly what went into it, but Bradley would reach a state of calm and then inevitably get distracted. 

He cracked his eyes open to see Bob in a state of complete relaxation on his own bed. Something about this just didn't work as well for him, and his brain was buzzing, so Bradley reached for his notebook instead. There were too many things he wanted to write down. It felt like he wasn't going to be able to stop emptying out all of his feelings now that he started, and after several weeks, the notebook was mostly full. 

The desire to be at home was overwhelming. Thinking about eating homemade Marry Me Rooster with his wife perched on his lap was all that was getting him through this deployment. As soon as he was home, he'd make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him. There were no conditions on his love, and he was embarrassed and crushed that maybe he made you think there were. 

He only had a few more weeks to go. But things with the mission were looking abysmal. Slayer and Charmer were getting worse to deal with by the day, and the way the admirals praised them was beyond ridiculous. Like the shiny, new aviators were somehow better than the ones with more experience. Like Bradley, Nat and Bob couldn't keep up now. It was hard to keep believing that the admirals would actually put the best team together to complete the mission. 

"Wow," Bob suddenly said, stretching his arms over his head and removing his glasses. "That was a great session."

"Yep," Bradley agreed, nodding as he scribbled in the notebook. "Really good, Bob."

But the other man was already pulling the bedding up to his shoulders, and Bradley knew he'd be asleep soon. "Good for you," he muttered, returning to his notebook. 

Nat and Bob were so good to him, this deployment should have been a breeze. And it had improved since he got to talk to you over facetime in the commanding officer's quarters, but he thought he'd go ahead and start a countdown in the notebook anyway. Just eighteen more days until he should be arriving back in San Diego. And he was hoping like hell he would get to call you again before then. 

But a few days later, he still hadn't been selected for another facetime session. And Bob and Nat got called out onto the tarmac after dinner for a repairs inspection that was performed on their Super Hornet. So Bradley headed to the gym for a workout by himself, and the room was thankfully fairly empty. He put in his ear buds and got out his phone. He selected the playlist you made for him last year called This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley and he smiled. 

Pretty soon he was sweating, working his way through some bicep curls, when he saw Slayer out of the corner of his eye. He would ignore him. No problem. Only two weeks left to go. Only a few more days until the mission. "Do not engage," Bradley muttered to himself. 

But of course he couldn't control what Slayer decided to do, and the idiot wandered over toward him. And then he snatched his phone off of the bench, and Bradley was on his feet immediately, still clutching the fifty pound dumbbell in his left hand. 

"What the hell do you want?" Bradley asked, plucking one ear bud out. "It's bad enough I have to see you in the classroom all day."

Slayer just laughed, and Bradley realized he was staring at his lock screen. "Just wanted another look at your wife. How much younger is she, old man? She got a grandpa fetish or something?"

Bradley's fingers tightened around the dumbbell, and he wished he'd given more of an effort to meditating with Bob. 

He was seething. And then Slayer asked him, "You know what? Why don't you just give me her number so I can keep her warm next time you're out of town?"

Bradley had to fight the urge to throw the dumbbell at him. "You talk an awful lot for someone so stupid."

"And you strut around like you own the place for something who can barely fly."

Bradley's blood was boiling now. The admirals had pumped these kids so full of bullshit, there was going to be no arguing with him. Instead he snatched his phone out of Slayer's hand and pocketed it. "And you're slow as shit versus an old man. Now get back to your bunk, it's almost curfew for the children."

Slayer smirked at him as he backed away toward an empty weight bench. "Just wait. You'll see."

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

You had made it this far, you could make it two more weeks. But you got your period again, right on time. And you knew it was ridiculous to get choked up when you had to get the tampons and pads out again, because Bradley wasn't even home. You hadn't had intercourse since he left six weeks ago. You knew there was no way. But just the idea of knowing another cycle was ending had tears stinging behind your eyes. 

When you heard the doorbell, you quickly washed your hands and rushed out to where Tramp was practically howling at the front door. "Chill out," you told him. "You'll be happy. You loved him last time."

"Hi," Cat said as soon as you opened the door, and you saw Hondo pull away in his green Chevy. Jeremiah was in her arms, and once again, he smiled when he saw you. Things at work were a lot better, including having several nice conversations with Cat.

"Sorry, little guy," you said softly as they came inside. "No Rooster this time."

Cat laughed. "I think your dog will suffice. He loves animals."

When you closed the door, you watched Tramp follow them over to the couch, and then he started licking Jeremiah's little hands nonstop while the baby laughed. "If he's annoying, I can put him out back for a bit."

"No," Cat said as she and her son both laughed. "This is great." And then Jeremiah broke free from her arms and stood with both hands on Tramp. And you swore your dog had never been happier either. 

A little pang of sadness struck your heart as Tramp looked all too delighted at the attention he was being given. You were searching for a safe topic of conversation. Cat had been joining you for lunch on occasion, which was great. But now you found that you had so many friends, you needed to juggle your time with them. Cam and Cat were a little awkward around each other. And Cat wouldn't tell you exactly how she felt about Jake, but you knew Jake was sad and Cat was avoiding him.

So you asked her, "You still feel like hiding from Jake at work?" It seemed like a safe enough topic, and you almost laughed when she covered her face and collapsed dramatically against the arm of the couch. 

"Please! You keep asking me about this!"

"I'm curious by nature," you claimed. "And you never really told me anything."

She glanced at you as Jeremiah went crawling across the floor after Tramp. "I'm still embarrassed that I even kissed him in the first place. Uncle Bernie and I had it out several times about all the push ups, but he was just trying to take care of me. And I know that sounds like an excuse, but... keeping someone like Jake away from me is probably his top priority while Jer and I are living with him."

You tried to keep your composure, because you and Cat seemed to finally be getting along, but you just couldn't understand why she wouldn't give Jake a chance for real. "He's a good guy, Cat. God... I can't even tell you how many times he's helped me out and made me feel safe."

She turned to face you where you sat at the other end of the couch. "He's exactly like my ex husband. A cocky, handsome aviator who is too smart for his own good."

You shrugged and kind of nodded, because that definitely sounded like Jake. "Well whatever your ex did to piss you off, I doubt Jake would be the same. Are you afraid he won't accept Jeremiah?"

She swallowed hard. "I'd rather not even find out where he stands on his opinions about my son. And listen, there's a reason why my ex husband never met Jeremiah. And it's the same reason I never let him know our son's social security number or where we ran off to. I'm sure he has a hunch that I was able to transfer to Top Gun, but Mike is definitely too scared to come sniffing around for more while I'm with Bernie."

You shook your head in confusion. "Come sniffing around for more of what?"

"Money," she said simply, but her jaw was set, and she looked ready for a fight. And you should have probably known all along that there was more than what she had told you over the past few months. You were pretty sure you were the only one who even knew about Jeremiah, besides Bradley and Cam. And if Cat was the type of person who took their time opening up to people, you were surprised that you were the one she was talking to about this.

"He wants your money?" you asked softly. 

Since she borrowed your car, you knew she didn't have one, and she said that she was broke. But your jaw dropped open when she said, "Mike was dishonorably discharged from the navy for showing up to work drunk and drinking while on base. He tanked his own career, and nobody in Annapolis could even look at me the same after that."

"Why would he do that?"

She laughed, but she looked like she was going to cry. "Because I told him I was pregnant."

Jeremiah was laying on his back now while Tramp licked his neck, and he was giggling up a storm. "I'm so confused," you told her. "He didn't want you to get pregnant?"

"Well he told me he would be happy to have kids. But by the time I told him I was pregnant with Jer, he had already opened four credit cards in my name. He had already lost all of our savings. And he knew I was going to find out about all of it as soon as I mentioned us opening a bank account for our unborn child."

"Oh."

When she met your eyes, she shook her head. "He has a gambling addiction." You watched as she wiped at her cheek. "I used to own a beautiful house," she said, glancing around longingly. "I had a car. He and I had money saved. But he managed to lose all of it, plus the credit card advancements in my name. I owe more than half a million dollars in money that I didn't spend. Money that I never saw. And that doesn't include what I've paid to my lawyers. Mike did all of that while I thought we were building a life together."

"Holy shit," you whispered. You felt nauseous just thinking about it. And you were suddenly even more thankful for Bradley.

"So yeah... cocky, headstrong aviators might be my type on paper, but I can't get involved. And I'm sorry I was leading Jake on. But, it's not just him. I can't get serious with anyone when my life is a trainwreck that I will never be able to recover from. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life trying to make sure this doesn't all fall to him," she said, nodding toward where Jeremiah was now crawling back toward the couch with Tramp following right behind him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I don't know what else to say except that you didn't deserve any of that, and neither did Jeremiah."

She reached down to scoop him up into her arms as he yawned. "Yeah well, I hope you're smarter than me. I hope you had a prenup."

You sat quietly and watched as she kissed Jeremiah's forehead and reached into the diaper bag she brought with her so he could eat some cereal. Cat had been honest with you. She told you months ago that she was jealous of you, and now you knew why. You had all these things that you were taking for granted. 

For some reason, you thought she ought to know that you'd been jealous all along, too. "You still have something so good though. Something I wish I had."

She looked at you like you'd completely lost it while Jeremiah ate some Cheerios. "What? A marriage that ended in shambles and a career that is hanging on by a thread? Or the inability to ever have someone take you seriously in a relationship ever again?"

"No. Jeremiah."

She looked at you, and her face dropped. "Oh." And maybe she realized that meant you and Bradley had been trying unsuccessfully, but you changed the subject before she could ask any questions. 

"But that doesn't matter, really. And you know, there are some things we do have control over here."

"Like what?" she asked, and when you smiled softly, she smiled back.

"Jake. I think you might be surprised by him, Cat. I think he'd be good with Jeremiah."

"No," she replied right away. "I'd rather not even find out. Besides, it's already too late with Jake. Even if he was going to stop sleeping around, it's done. He asked me out at least fifteen times. And I said no at least fifteen times."

"If he asked you out again, would you say yes?"

You jumped several inches when your doorbell rang again, and Tramp ran for the door like he was a professional guard dog. "We didn't even order a pizza yet," you said as you stood. But the closer you got to the door, you thought you knew who it must be, and you answered it anyway.

"Angel," Jake drawled, bending to pet Tramp who immediately turned into a puppy again at the prospect of pets from one of his favorite people. "Just thought maybe you'd want to get dinner and head to the Hard Deck later?"

When you didn't respond right away, Jake pushed the door open wider and let himself inside. Then you watched him freeze up as he saw Cat sitting on your couch with Jeremiah in her arms. "Cat."

She looked absolutely mortified as she stood up, but she had nowhere to go. She was reliant upon Hondo coming back to pick her up, and Jake was staring right at Jeremiah. "Jake," she said so softly, you could barely hear her across the room.

He huffed out a short breath and ran his fingers through his hair, past the scar on his forehead from the last time he was deployed with Bradley. You weren't sure what you should do, but then he simply said, "You have a kid."

Cat's chin was in the air again, and you knew she wouldn't let Jake or anyone else say one negative thing about that child without consequences. "His name is Jeremiah."

"Jeremiah," Jake repeated, and two sets of matching dark eyes were looking right at him before Jeremiah yawned and fell asleep on his mom's chest. "He's adorable."

Cat sank slowly down so she was sitting on the couch once again, and she looked like the fight was gone, almost like she was exhausted now. You nudged Jake in the ribs and then reached for Tramp's leash where it hung near the door. "I'll be right back. Just going to take him out." But nobody was listening to you. Once the leash was clipped on his collar, Tramp pulled you out onto the front porch. You caught one last glimpse of Jake taking up residence in the spot on the couch you'd vacated, and then you closed the door.

You puttered around the yard with Tramp before deciding to just walk him down to the beach and back. But the early spring air was chilly when the wind picked up across the sand, and you wished you'd taken a minute to grab Bradley's sweatshirt from the hook as well. 

Playing a comparison game in your mind would get you nowhere, you knew that. Everything Cat told you was completely fucked up, but she had to know how that Jeremiah was worth it. And you knew that Bradley was enough, even if it was just the two of you. But now you were a little worried about Jake putting his foot in his mouth. 

When you hustled back down your block, shivering as the breeze picked up some more, you saw that Jake's car was still in your driveway. And when you cautiously let yourself back inside with Tramp, you found Cat and Jake sitting very close together on the couch. And Jake was holding Jeremiah while he slept.

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

Bradley knew it would be a short call. The mission was scheduled for a few days from now, weather depending. But if he was allowed even five minutes with you, he'd take it any day of the week. 

When you answered his facetime call, you were sitting in your office with your lunch in front of you. "Roo!" you gasped, dropping your fork into your burrito bowl. "I miss you!"

"I miss you, too, Sweetheart."

He watched as you turned to someone off screen and said, "Okay, thanks."

"Who are you eating lunch with?"

"Cat," you replied quickly, and he was a little surprised by that answer. "She just stepped out into the hallway so we could talk. Please tell me you'll be home on time, Bradley."

He smiled and said, "Haven't been notified of any changes, so I think so. Please tell me you got plenty of hot sauce in there."

You laughed and tipped your lunch so he could see all of the green hot sauce. "Absolutely. You know how I like it."

"I do," he replied softly as he examined your face. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. And you looked so much happier now. You looked like you'd been sleeping better. 

"I wish I was sharing my lunch with you."

He nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about our dining room. And how it feels so good to hold you on my lap while we eat a meal off of one plate."

You gasped softly. "I've been thinking about that too." When your eyes drifted closed, you added, "And how you wrap your left arm around me and kiss my neck while he eat."

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspy, and he was aching to be with you right now. "We'll do everything." 

But he only had one more minute with you, and he wanted to know how you were doing. When he asked, you said, "I can tell you when you get home. Tell me about the mission."

"I can't say much. Teams get selected tomorrow morning. Flight is weather dependent. You know the drill."

"I do. I just want you to be safe," you told him softly. "Need you to come home."

"I'll be there so soon. I love you."

And after that, he still felt so good as he got to the classroom a few minutes early the next morning. Admiral Dean smirked at him as he took his usual seat, and the room started filling up. Other than the fact that he had to stare at the back of Slayer's head, he was ready to get this mission in the air and get home.

"As you well know," Admiral Dean started, "the final details will not be set in stone until the day of the mission. So we are left with two options, and we need to be clear on both of them. Option A: the two teams will fly in formation and strike the communications tower first before proceeding to the enemy base. This is the preferred option as we would be removing multiple streams of communication first, but we may need to switch to an alternate flight path if they have too many aircrafts in the air. So that brings us to Option B, in which you will strike the base first and then loop around to the communications tower."

Bradley's brain was literally numb from listening to this information over and over again. He understood the importance of what needed to be done, but this was overkill now. When he glanced at Nat, she looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. Until Dean spoke again.

"If there are no questions, that brings us to team selections. Four aircrafts will be flying this mission. We've chosen the best, and I am already convinced of the success of this mission. The teams will be as follows: Slayer will be paired with Phoenix and Bob."

His heart sank. Shit. That was supposed to be Bradley's pairing. Fucking Slayer. But it probably didn't matter too much if he was flying alongside a different two-seater, just as long as he was in the air with his friends. Really, all four aircrafts were responsible for keeping each other safe, so he wouldn't be too far from them at all. 

"And the second team will be Charmer paired with Terror and Mack."

It took a second to register. But slowly, it seemed like everyone in the room was turning to stare at Bradley. Admiral Dean looked smug. Nat and Bob looked distraught. And Slayer looked damn near delighted. Then Charmer turned to him and laughed. 

And Bradley had the fleeting thought that his career was over. He was the oldest aviator in the room by a few years. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was falling short with proving himself in the air just as he had been messing things up on the ground with you. And that sick, embarrassed feeling in his stomach was there to stay as all those thoughts took up permanent residence in his mind.

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

Oh. That stings. That really hurt my feelings. Bradley could fly circles around them. And how do we feel about Jake? Cat? Jeremiah? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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[scraplette]

This is random but I noticed you mention you were a big Rung/Skids shipper and I'm curious about something. I wasn't active in the fandom where MTMTE/LL were coming out and I feel like I missed huge discourse or something, because I'm really confused about why I have always seen Rung/Fort Max and Rung/Whirl and MegaRung everywhere but nobody seems to ship Rung with the guy he was super close with from the beginning and committed suicide thinking about and coughed up crystals over? I know it's not because it's wrong for therapists and patients to date because all of those people were Rung's patients. Do you know why this is?

Hello there! Sorry for the late response, I wanted to do this on desktop and just hadn't found the time.

You've sent a really interesting question but, I'm sorry, I'm not sure I have an answer for you. Heck, even at the time the comics were coming out I was always surprised by the lack of content for the ship. There was some discourse about Rung dating paitents but, funnily enough, Skids was never really a part of it. He wasn't really considered by the fandom as one of Rung's paitents so it wasn't an issue. The storyarc we the readers found out that Rung was treating Skids, was also the same arc where Rung quit. You did have some folks producing some excellent content for it(@littlestowl is still hands down my fave writer for this pair and @herzspalter did some hecking good fanart!) but never to the same extent as other ships. Not gonna blame people for that, we all have our preferences! Live and let ship and all that! So, since I had no anwers of my own I decided to counsult THE COUNCI(my friends who like Transformers) for their opinions and they came up with the excellent points. We even gathered DATA(we looked at Ao3 XD) Nothing definitive, of course, because obviously we're just a group of robot fans and can't speak for every TF fan on the net. These are just our thoughts and general vibes. 1) Rung is just so darn shippable. He potentially works well with a lot of characters and was pulled in lots of diff directions. Speaking as the main Rung/Skids shipper of the group I sort of get this(stupid sexy Rung) but even with all the diff ships sailing Rung/Skids still seemed oddly small in comparsion. 2)Another friend brought up a good point, Rung/Skids are a lovely ship but they're very wholesome and nice. Now, there is nothing wrong with that but you can't deny that spicy ships oozing with, as they put it, DRAMA just get folks excited. Lots of the other ships had this in spades. 3) Another friend had a lovely thought to add to this and I agree with it 100%. I'm just going to quote them directly "Which is kinda a shame because they have other kinds of cool drama - Rung basically compromised his position for Skids! Skids revived Rung's memory! The non-goodbye! But not conflict -drama." 4)Perhaps the venn diagram of Skids fan and Rungs fans didn't neccisarily crossover. Looking at the DATA, we can see that the most popular ships for Skids(in order) were SkidsSwerve, SkidsGetaway, and SkidsRung. I'm not sure if the Getaway fics were written pre or post betrayl.

5) Not really important but something I thought was a cool detail. Rung/Skids was really popular in the Japanese side of the fandom. I even own a physical doujin anthology for the pair! I can't remember any names of the top of my head, it's been years, but there were lots of lovely pieces of Rung/Skids fanart on the JP art sites.

I'm always a little sad about Rung/Skids. I always thought here were always lots of hooks throughtout the story that could lead the pair to more. Lots of little quiet personal moments just for the two of them. Like, Skids defending Rung against Getaway's snide comments. Ratchet sending Skids to Rung because he things the little chap is lonely. That final weirdly tense exchange between them will always sit a bit oddly with me. I know at the time there was a theory that Skids might've been into Nuatica at the time but nothing seemed to come of it, so I geuss we'll never know. I think I remember reading that Alex Milne didn't realise that would be their last interaction together, otherise he would've done the panel differently* Thank you for your ask! It was lovely to look back on old fandom memories ^_^ I hope I gave you some insights. As for myself, I'm hoping to get back into fic writing so no doubt I'll be adding to my collection of Rung/Skids drabbles.

*IMPORTANT UPDATE EDIT THING! I couldn't drop the final goodbye between them and the Alex Milne thing(it was nearly a decade ago so I was worried I'd misremembered) so I hunted down the original tweet and I've misremembered!

Sigh, what a shame that the final on-page interaction of my fave ship is forever off key and weird because of Writer/Artist miscomunucation :<

[broken-clover]

1- New Beginnings

October got here fast, my goodness! But I guess that means it's time to start Comfortober. I did break my own rules a little while I'm still getting used to things, this one's a bit over 1000 words so I'll put it under a readmore for cleanliness.

To nobody's surprise, I'm starting with an obvious pick of Bedman and Delilah. I like to think about what their relationship was like as really little kids and if he was always so enthusiastic about his job as a protective big brother.

-

He didn’t want a sibling. It didn’t matter how many times his parents tried to get him to see it their way, tried to make him love the idea, tried to make him love her, it hadn’t changed anything. Romeo didn’t want a baby sister, and he hated that he had one.

No energy was spared in making that very, very clear. He shoved her away when she got too close, put her toys on a shelf too high to reach, even when she managed to stand, and dumped her clothes in the toilet. Chiding and scolding him hadn’t worked even after several tries, so now all it got him was a few pointed words while whichever parent closest by fixed the mess he caused, whether it be something to clean or a fussing Delilah to calm down.

The one blessing was that she was quiet. She cried, but never said anything useful. Mom and dad had been fretting lately about how she still didn’t speak, but that suited him just fine. In fact, they had said that he had learned to talk very early, so that was something he could hold over her. He was so much smarter than she was, and that softened the frustration of having to share everything with some dumb baby, just a little bit.

He didn’t even have his own bedroom anymore. Once she’d finally started sleeping for more than a little while at a time, Delilah’s crib was moved out of their parent’s room and put right in the place where he liked to put his favorite stuffed sheep. They must have done that on purpose just to punish him. He didn’t understand why he had to share everything now. He hadn’t wanted a baby sister, so why was it his problem? Why did he have to deal with her waking him up in the middle of the night with her annoying crying?

What woke him up tonight, however, wasn’t Delilah’s crying, but a harsh thunderclap and the sound of the nightlight fizzling out.

Romeo jerked awake, hiding under his blanket and peering out into the darkness. Ah. The storm. Rain and clouds had started to roll in around dinnertime. Their house’s energy supply wasn’t very good, and bad storms in particular often shorted out the power. He’d sat through a few before, it didn’t tend to last very long until mom or dad went into the basement to reset the circuit.

He wished one of them was there with him to make sure everything was okay, but he could handle himself for a little bit. Dad left a flashlight near the door. He shimmied out from underneath his quilts and carefully stretched his legs to make sure his feet were actually on the floor.

It was hard to see anything. The clouds outside only let in a little bit of moonlight, and without his glasses, all he could do was squint and feel along blindly. He tried not to look in the direction of where he knew the closet was, even though the nightlight was out, he wanted to believe it wouldn’t be long enough for the thing in the closet to come slithering out. And if it did, he was sure it would eat Delilah first.

His little fingers wrapped around the flashlight. As soon as he tried to pick it up, something wrapped around his leg.

Romeo yelped, kicking at whatever had touched him to the point of stumbling over and landing on his butt. He thought to switch the flashlight on, but what greeted him wasn’t a shadowy tentacle monster trying to drag him into the closet, instead…

“H-how did you get out?!”

Silly question, it wasn’t like she was going to give him a real answer. Delilah continued clinging onto his leg, even as he stumbled to stand up again. Falling over had really hurt, he almost wanted to slap her, but he was just glad enough that it wasn’t the closet monster.

He watched her dark little eyes go back and forth. “Mmm…”

“What are you looking for?” Romeo asked. “I know you aren’t smart, but you’ve seen the power go out before. Why are you surprised?”

“Muh-”

“Mommy is fixing the circuit breaker, she’ll be back in a minute. Just stop babbling and she’ll-”

“Mi-mi?”

He blinked. “Mommy will be back soon.”

“Mi-mi…?”

“No, Mom-my.”

To his confusion, Delilah started grabbing at the skirt of his pajamas. “Mi-mi!”

“I’m not mommy. I know you’re stupid, but you should still be smarter than that. I’m Romeo.”

“Mi-mi!” She chirped once more

”Romeo.” He insisted back. ”Roh-mee-”

“Mee-mee!”

“...Oh.” Romeo realized he was shining the flashlight in her eyes, and moved the beam elsewhere.

A bolt of light briefly lit the room, and a thunderclap shook the walls. He covered his ears to block out the noise, and felt Delilah cling onto his leg even harder. When he pulled his hands away, she was still stuck tight and shaking.

Romeo looked between her and the window. “Are you…afraid of the storm…?”

She hiccuped, already on the verge of tears. “Mi-mi…”

A strange feeling was brewing in him. The thought would have angered him not ten minutes ago, but he placed a hand on her head and tried to pat it gently. “Do you wanna sit under my blankets? They keep out noise.”

Though she didn’t let go, he could see her nod. He limped back to bed with her still on his leg, finally getting Delilah to loosen her grip when it came to climbing up. Her legs were too short, so he gave her a little boost to make it all the way up. She immediately burrowed under his blankets, and he followed.

He shone the light against the fabric above their heads. Another rumble outside made the bed tremble, and Delilah squeezed her eyes shut. Romeo felt around under the covers until he found his sheep plushie. The toy was placed in her lap.

“You can pet him. He eats your bad dreams and scary stuff so you can sleep. Dad says so. He’ll eat the lightning so you can sleep.”

His sister cooed, mushing her face against it.

“D-don’t get drool on it! And you only get to borrow it for tonight! It’s still mine!”

He shouted, but he felt no real malice to it like he had before. Delilah was small and flimsy, so he supposed it had to be someone’s job to watch after her until she wasn’t anymore.

By the time the nightlight flickered back on and the light in the hallway streamed under their bedroom door, Delilah had long fallen asleep, with one hand gripping his doll and the other still clinging to him. Romeo made no attempt to move either of them.

[tenebraevesper]

Five Nights at Freddy's: Salvaged, Night 9: Salvage Dreams

''What is point of creation? No answer, only nightmares. Cold and lifeless iron death cells, seems we have hearts inside us. Maybe I will scare you too much; Please, I really need to know why. Vicious circle all around me, we can't keep this scary old lie. My old scene, it beckons me, but should we freeze our lives forever, or you'll embrace us all together, to get us all free in the flame.''

 – Salvage Dreams by MiaRissyTV ft. Cheshire (Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria Simulator)

xXxXxXx

Sam leaned against the pillow, feeling tired as she checked some notifications on her smartphone. It was late evening, with her and Springtrap having returned home from their investigation at the factory. The animatronic in question was sitting on the other end of her bed, looking just as tired as she was, but also somewhat content.

''So, I guess we have another mystery at our hands,'' Sam said, glancing at Springtrap.

''I'm pretty sure that this mystery is connected to what happened at Ricky's,'' Springtrap replied.

''Speaking of which, we know that a man, a night guard, had been murdered at Ricky's and left at Freddy's,'' Sam said. ''We also know that whoever killed him made sure nobody would find out about it.''

''We also know that someone constructed that animatronic, maybe more, at the factory, but we don't know why,'' Springtrap added. ''There is a possibility that it was the same person, someone who has an interest in robots. Perhaps, they were caught by the night guard doing something which they wanted to keep secret and that is why the night guard had to die.''

''Maybe, but we have no idea what our culprit had done,'' Sam said. ''Also, leaving the body at Freddy's was a smart move, considering how infamous Freddy's is for missing people cases and murders.'' She bit her lip. ''You know, I think this is less about damaging the reputation of a rival company and perhaps more personal, with Freddy's being the scapegoat.''

''The question remains, who would do that and why,'' Springtrap said, frowning. He could still see the twitching endoskeleton and the pleading look it gave him. It wasn't made to kill.

''Do you think that someone is trying to recreate the haunted animatronics?'' Sam asked. Springtrap shrugged.

''Why don't you check the news for any missing children?'' he asked, half-jokingly. It was merely a suggestion, but Sam instantly checked her smartphone, looking at the local news.

''There's nothing. Just a car accident and a burglary on the other side of the town,'' she said. ''There are no reported kidnappings or missing people cases.''

''I see. Even if the night guard's death was covered, a missing child wouldn't go unnoticed,'' Springtrap said, feeling a little frustrated. What exactly is going on?

''I think you were right about the theory that the night guard might've been killed because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time,'' Sam said. ''However, whether the animatronic we saw had anything to do with it, we don't know.''

''Maybe it does,'' Springtrap said. ''I'm not saying that someone would try to recreate a haunted animatronic, but it was sure created with some kind of function.''

''Who knows,'' Sam sighed. ''I think we should figure out tomorrow what to do next.''

''So, I guess my Five Nights trial is over, right?'' Springtrap asked, giving Sam a curious look. ''Unless you want to add an extra Night.''

''As long as you're here, I don't think those Five Nights will ever end,'' Sam replied, noticing Springtrap's sly expression.

''Well, perhaps I could start my own trial with you,'' Springtrap said, his eyes glowing in a very faint purple. The glow faded, however, when he saw how reluctant Sam was. He actually wanted to let her know that he was just messing with her, and was surprised when she nodded. He sat closer to her, noticing the empty stare she had. ''What happened?''

Sam took a deep breath, speaking in a heavy, bitter tone.

''Remember what I told you about my former friends?'' She looked at Springtrap, who nodded. ''Even though I ghosted them, they were still trying to be a part of my life. I had to endure two years straight of them switching between being my best friends and being bullies. That was two years of psychological torture, where they would switch between trying to be nice and friendly and calling me a horrible person and blaming me for everything that went wrong.''

''That's incredibly cruel,'' Springtrap muttered, torn between trying to comfort her and letting her have some of her own space. One thing he hated about himself was that, despite what he said, he had some trouble connecting with people on an emotional level. He understood how Sam felt and what she was going through, but he felt he lacked the empathy any other decent human being would feel in such situation.

''They would get more aggressive the more I ignored them,'' Sam continued, with Springtrap noticing that her eyes were sparkling. ''Instead of kicking and punching me, they would send me messages over social media or something similar. Then, there was this…'' She trailed off, choking up. Her eyes were tearing, with her wiping them away.

''Sam?'' Springtrap lifted his hand, wanting to place it on her shoulder in a comforting manner, but something stopped him. Sam shook her head.

''They set me up with this older guy. It was supposed to be some kind of prank,'' she said, clenching her fists and shaking. ''I had no idea what was going on. I had no idea who he was. All I knew was that a stranger appeared in front of my door, while it was evening and I was home alone, screaming at me for standing him up and threatening me for lying to him. I was so scared…''

Tears were flowing down her cheeks, with her gasping and wiping them away. Springtrap wished he could do more for her. Rage was growing inside him at the thought of seeing Sam suffer like this.

''He believed I was in on the prank, even though I told him I had no idea what he was talking about. Luckily, I managed to lock the door, because he attempted to break in and show me why people shouldn't mess with him. I-I thought I was going to get h-hurt or worse,'' she added. ''The next day, a girl in my class told me how someone made a fake profile of me and catfished the guy. I had deleted all of my social media before that, so I had no idea what was going on. Nobody knew who did that, but I already had an idea. However, nothing could be p-proven, since they had already d-deleted the fake profile.''

She broke down crying.

''Sam,'' Springtrap muttered, reaching for her shoulder, only to look back in shock when she recoiled from his touch. ''Sam, I'm sorry.''

''No, it's not you…'' Sam shook her head, wiping her tears and taking a deep breath. ''I'm such an idiot.''

''No, you're not,'' Springtrap told her, only to be cut off by Sam.

''Yes, I am,'' Sam replied in a firm tone. ''I knew how toxic they were and despite that, I felt that I needed to be part of that group. There were times I blamed myself, thinking I was indeed somehow at fault and that I was a horrible person.''

''Sam, you're in no way a horrible person nor an idiot,'' Springtrap told her in a calm, comforting tone. ''You simply wanted support, but instead had to go through something horrible that scarred you.''

''To be honest, I have struggled with low self-esteem and anxiety, and even depression, after I ghosted my friends. I did tell myself that I could do better, but I only found myself locking up in my room more and more,'' Sam said. ''I didn't want to go out anymore because I was afraid. I felt that I couldn't trust people anymore, even though I really wanted to trust someone. I managed to somehow reconstruct my life and went out, bit by bit, but sometimes, I would still hear their voices, telling me how selfish I was or that I did something that made everyone hate me.'' She took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. ''I knew I needed to move on, and I figured I would be better off without any friends than having even one toxic friend.''

''You sure felt incredibly lonely,'' Springtrap muttered, with Sam nodding. He sighed. ''Sam, I don't think you're better off with me as your friend.'' He noticed her questioning look. ''You know what I did to my only friend, to Henry.''

''Yeah,'' Sam said in a quiet tone. ''That went far beyond petty pranks.''

''You know, lately I have been wondering what Henry might think about this whole thing,'' Springtrap said.

''I think he'd probably try to incinerate you again,'' Sam said. Springtrap lowered his head, chuckling softly, and looked at Sam with a smug expression.

''True,'' he said, his eyes glowing purple. ''Still, I have returned, despite all of Henry's efforts.''

He saw Sam's unnerved look as she stared back at him. She looked a little pale and was still shaking. Springtrap realized that he messed up and, instead of comforting her, made her even more upset. This was not what he had in mind.

''It doesn't matter,'' he said hastily, trying to calm her down. Sam shook her head.

''It seems like it does,'' she said, narrowing her eyes. ''Remember what I said? Whenever your eyes start glowing, it means that you're excited or aggressive. In other words, you become a danger to other people.''

''Sam, I-'' Springtrap cut himself off, realizing that Sam would only get upset if he made up an excuse in order to calm her down. After all, she only trusted him because he was completely honest with her. He sighed. ''Sam, I know I said that I'm a dangerous person, but I mean no harm to you. However, I cannot say the same for anyone else.'' He clenched his fists, the purple glow in his eyes intensifying. ''This is something that won't change.'' He then glanced Sam. ''It still surprises me that out of all people, I am the one you have chosen to trust. Were you really that desperate to have someone to talk to?''

''Yeah, kind of,'' Sam admitted. ''I'm a mess.''

''I think that we're both a mess,'' Springtrap said, with Sam smiling a little, her pale cheeks regaining some colour.

''Isolation really screws with your head, doesn't it?'' Sam said, with Springtrap nodding. ''So, what was that about a possible Night 6?''

''It depends on whether you already know what you would like to do,'' Springtrap replied.

''To be honest, I don't,'' Sam said.

''May I suggest something?'' Springtrap asked, with Sam nodding. ''I think we should go to Ricky's tomorrow. After all, this is where the mystery had started. Maybe we could find out more.''

''Okay,'' Sam said, yawning. ''Sounds like a plan.''

Springtrap then stood up, walking over to the door and glancing back at Sam, who had lied down on her bed. He turned the lights off.

''Good night,'' he said, only to hear a barely audible ''Night'' from her. He then exited the room, closing the door. Leaning back against the door, he closed his eyes, as if trying to calm himself down.

Once he opened them again, they flared purple.

xXx

Scrapes were heard, sounding as if a caged animal was trying to break free. It begged him for attention, for the release from its miserable prison. The endoskeleton twitched again and again whenever he would come closer to it. He frowned, staring at it with a look of dissatisfaction.

He then walked over to the table, taking something long and metallic – a crowbar. He weighted it in his hands, taking a swing in order to test it. The endoskeleton started to only twitch more. He then turned to the pitiful mess of metal and wires.

''Shhhhh…'' he hissed. His tone of voice wasn't comforting anymore, as he felt that the twitching of the scared robot was making him only more frustrated. It was already annoying making it work again, but he felt now that he had no use for it.

''You aren't good enough,'' he whispered and swung at the endoskeleton, tearing its head off cleanly. A clanking sound echoed through the room as the head fell down, the glow in its eyes fading. ''You're a failure.''

xXx

My eyes are still glowing purple.

Springtrap was lying on the couch in the guest room, looking at his reflection in the window. He wasn't really unsettled by having his eyes suddenly turn purple, and he had figured that it would fade away eventually and return to the normal silver and green. He lied down, looking past his reflection and at the starry sky.

It had been a long day for both him and Sam. He still had a little trouble believing that Sam wanted him to stay here, but he was glad about that decision. He wasn't really sure whether he could even call this place his new home, but he could get used to that idea.

However, what he was actually looking forward to was the feeling of satisfaction whenever he saw Sam smile. Having spent what seemed to be an eternity in isolation, he understood well how she felt. The feeling of loneliness could drive people crazy, making them desperate enough to do anything to just have some kind of company. While Sam seemed to be able to handle herself, being lonely sure did take a toll on her. Even though there were still things he wasn't sure about, keeping her happy and content was one thing he was certain he would do.

So, what do you say, Henry? What is your opinion on me trying to make someone happy for once?

It did frustrate him a little that he couldn't talk to his old friend. There were a lot of unsaid things he wanted to talk about, but he knew that there was nothing he could do now. Henry was gone, and so were Michael, Sammy and Elizabeth. All the people had a connection to had perished thanks to what he had done.

But, Sam won't. I won't let that happen to her.

He was aware that Henry probably wouldn't approve of their friendship and, frankly, he didn't care. However, he knew that his old partner certainly would not approve of what he was up to now, especially since it also involved Sam.

There is still something I need to finish.

xXx

Sam stretched her arms, holding her smartphone next to her ear and walking downstairs, towards the kitchen.

''Yeah, I'm fine,'' she said, yawning and listening to her mother. As she walked into the kitchen, she saw a fresh batch of pancakes, with Springtrap holding a frying pan. She gave him a questioning look.

''Well, you liked the pancakes I made for you, so I thought I could make them again,'' he replied, with Sam nodding, listened briefly to something her mother told her and then turning the loudspeaker on.

''Good morning, Springtrap!'' Emma greeted the animatronic in a chipper tone, with Springtrap feeling a knot somewhere in the stomach area. He knew that something was wrong, getting a confirmation a moment later. ''I hope you nor Sam are going to do anything stupid today.''

Springtrap felt unnerved by Emma's ability of figuring things out, even though she wasn't here at all. He remembered her warning from yesterday and shuddered, realizing that she wasn't joking.

''Are you some kind of psychic?'' he asked, trying to sound calm, but it was obvious that he was unnerved.

''Actually, I'm just a parent who has developed a sixth sense for figuring out whenever my kid is about to do something I wouldn't approve of,'' Emma replied. ''The fact that you're with her doesn't make me feel less worried.''

Springtrap rolled his eyes, feeling annoyed.

''Don't give me that look!'' Emma suddenly yelled, startling the animatronic, who stepped back, completely freaked out.

How does she know?!

''I think you achieved what you wanted, Mum,'' Sam said, looking a little baffled and having a feeling that her mother was grinning in satisfaction. ''So, when are you coming back?''

''I got a call and I will have to make a little detour,'' Emma said in a regretful tone. ''I'm coming back either tomorrow or the day after.''

''I see,'' Sam said, turning the loudspeaker off, mostly for Springtrap's sake, and quickly finishing the call. There was something amusing in seeing him giving her a look that was a mix of feeling annoyed and unsettled.

''Why is she even treating me like I'm some kind of bratty child?'' he said. ''I'm an adult, certainly a lot older than her, and went through things she couldn't even imagine!''

''True, but your past doesn't help your case,'' Sam replied. ''Also, Mum believes that people should earn her respect instead of demanding it. You should try working on that.''

Springtrap still felt irritated, but didn't say anything and focused on cleaning the dishes by putting them in the dishwasher, while Sam targeted her breakfast.

''Mum also said that you don't have to freak out so much in her presence,'' she added.

''Trust me, I don't want that either, but she's quite good at making me paranoid,'' Springtrap replied as he sat next to her.

''I guess that nothing can be done then,'' Sam said, then grinned. ''In any case, the pancakes you made are delicious.''

''I'm glad about that,'' Springtrap replied, putting his arms on the table, crossing them and leaning his head against them as he looked at Sam. ''Honestly, I'm just waiting for you to ask me something.''

''You still have your mind settled on an extra Night,'' Sam said, noticing his ears twitch and lower. ''If I have any questions, I'll ask you.''

''Okay,'' Springtrap said and sat up. ''Then, we are focusing on Ricky's today.''

"Say, Will," Sam said, taking a bite of her pancake. ''Have you suggested Ricky's because it might give us answers on what happened or because you want to go back to an establishment that is similar to the one you used to work?''

Springtrap kept quiet, looking a little unsure about what to say. Sure, his primary reason to go there was their investigation, but he couldn't deny that he missed the atmosphere at Freddy's. It had been a huge part of his life, after all.

''So, let me get this straight. Aside from being a father, a co-founder of a franchise, an engineer, a manager, a CEO of a company, a night guard and a murderer, you're also a performer at heart,'' Sam said.

''You forgot that I'm also an animatronic,'' Springtrap said. ''Besides, I have already told you that something inside me would change whenever I put the mask on. I always considered myself as the character I performed as, with no one being able to replace me.''

''Considering how you're stuck in this suit, there is indeed no way that someone could replace you now,'' Sam said. Springtrap grinned.

''You have a point there,'' he said as she stood up, having finished with her breakfast and placing the dishes into the dishwasher. He then followed her into the living room. ''We still have a lot of time left before we go, so, is there anything you want to do? Do you want to play a game or something like that?''

''Actually, there is something that I've been thinking about,'' Sam said, turning to him. ''About what I said yesterday, it's…'' She sighed. ''It doesn't matter. I'm over it.''

''Are you trying to downplay your situation?'' Springtrap asked, crossing his arms. Sam sat on the couch, leaning back.

''I just wanted to say that my problems aren't as bad as yours, and that I feel that I was just overreacting,'' Sam said, looking up when Springtrap leaned against the couch, giving her a look of concern.

''Sam, you weren't overreacting and I don't think that your problems were less bad than mine,'' he told her. ''What happened affected you more than you think. Therefore, if you want to talk about it, I'm here for you.''

''I'm sorry for pushing you away,'' Sam said in a quiet tone.

''It's fine,'' Springtrap replied. ''You felt vulnerable and uncomfortable at that moment and you just wanted your own space. I understand that. Although, I am curious whether Emma knew about this?''

''I didn't tell her anything, but she had probably figured it out once I started to lock myself up in my room,'' Sam said. ''She didn't say anything, though. I guess she wanted to let me handle it by myself and assumed I would ask her for help if I had trouble dealing with it. She did tell me several times that I should go out and make some new friends.''

''I sincerely doubt she a haunted robot in mind,'' Springtrap said, with Sam chuckling.

''It's still better than nothing,'' she said, with Springtrap stepping back, grinning as he crossed his arms on his back. There was a faint glow of purple in his eyes.

''I am certainly a better option than your former friends,'' he said in an assuring tone. ''Don't worry.''

''There is something I want to ask you, though,'' Sam said. Springtrap's ears lowered, although he had already expected that.

''Okay, what is it?''

''I'm curious about how you feel about being an animatronic,'' Sam said, with Springtrap tilting his head.

''Hadn't we already covered that?'' he asked.

''We kinda did, but I'm curious about your experience before and after becoming the character you used to perform as,'' Sam replied. ''You said that you already liked the idea of being Spring Bonnie aka Springtrap.''

''True, but to be honest, I haven't really thought about it. I just accepted my new existence,'' Springtrap said, rubbing his wrists absentmindedly. After being trapped inside the suit, all he could remember was the agony he felt as he experienced a slow death. After his soul was attached to the suit, there had been a surge of satisfaction once he realized what he had achieved. However, he hadn't really payed much thought to the whole situation and focused on how to take advantage of his new existence. ''It did feel a little strange, though. While I was still alive and would wear the springlock suit while performing, I had to be careful to not trigger the spring locks.''

''After all, there had been a few times when you had seen the aftermath of that,'' Sam said. Springtrap nodded, the purple glow in his eyes becoming stronger.

''Despite the danger, I knew how to handle the suit, different than the other employees,'' he added. ''They were always careful with it, while I managed to move around more easily. It certainly did baffle some of them when they realized that. However, they didn't dare to move around more than necessary.''

''Considering how you and Henry built it, you obviously knew how to wear it without triggering the spring locks and getting crushed by them. Everyone else had Phone Guy's instruction tapes,'' Sam said, watching as Springtrap suddenly took a step forward and bowed gracefully.

''Nevertheless, death has its advantages,'' he said, giving her a smug grin. ''There are no restrictions and there is nothing I have to fear. Despite having my soul trapped inside the suit, I had gained more freedom than I ever had.''

''Unlike your victims,'' Sam said, watching as he went quiet, the smug expression vanishing. His eyes were still glowing purple.

''They have achieved their freedom,'' he said. ''They're gone.''

''That may be true, but what I'm curious about is how much control their souls had over the animatronic AI,'' Sam said. ''You said that you had to overpower the Spring Bonnie AI to take control over the suit, so I'm wondering who really was in control of Freddy and his friends, or who exactly controlled Circus Baby.''

Springtrap gave her a curious look, quite interested into the direction this conversation was going.

''What do you think?'' he asked, crossing his arms.

''I believe that the struggle is harder the more advanced the animatronic AI is,'' she said. ''Freddy and his friends were following their programming, with some direction of the children's souls, although the souls weren't able to take control of the animatronics. Had the souls been completely in control or taken over the AI, I believe that they would've been able to enter the hidden safe room instead of experiencing an error.''

''There's also the fact that you're talking about children's souls. They never knew what they were really doing, didn't they? My situation was completely different. Not only did I know what I was doing, but, as an adult, I could handle the situation in a more efficient way,'' he said, his gaze softening. ''Concerning Elizabeth and Circus Baby, it seems that the soul and AI have merged. When I met her as Scrap Baby, Elizabeth was following the AI's programming, which was to kill.'' He frowned, closing his eyes in frustration. ''Yet, I didn't care. Thinking about it, I never understood how souls really work and I only knew that they could stay attached to metal.'' He opened his eyes, which flared purple as he looked at Sam. ''I did understand how fragile life was and I had searched for a method to make my stay, and everyone else's, here more permanent. Once it worked out, all I had to do was to give into my bloodlust.''

''If it were possible and you had the choice, would you want to become human again, rather than an animatronic?'' Sam asked. Springtrap noted the sincere and innocent tone in her voice, feeling that she was honestly curious about his choices and decisions. He felt that it was quite interesting that she managed to bring up things he never really thought about or payed much attention to, as he believed that it wouldn't serve him any purpose.

''I have already told you that I'm fine the way I'm not,'' he said.

''Okay, but what if that weren't the case?'' Sam persisted. ''If you were still alive, would you try to figure out how to bind your soul to the animatronic you grew attached to?''

Springtrap remained silent for a while, with Sam wondering whether he really had second thoughts about his decision. He then shook his head.

''I think I still would try to do that,'' he said. ''While I may be saying this because my soul is already attached to an animatronic, I still believe that, if I were alive, I would still do the same.''

''But whether you would or wouldn't go murder people to achieve that goal or satisfy your bloodlust remains uncertain,'' Sam said, with Springtrap nodding.

''To be honest, sometimes I feel as if all what happened before getting trapped inside this suit was just a dream,'' he said. ''The hallucinations don't help it either. Sometimes, they are memories of my former life, but sometimes, I have no idea what I'm experiencing. It's not a memory or a delusion, but something completely different.''

''Maybe you have trouble with your memory,'' Sam suggested.

''I think I know how to tell the difference between a memory and whatever I'm experiencing, and I'm fairly certain that there is something else going on in my head,'' Springtrap said.

''Do you think that it's the Spring Bonnie AI trying to tell you something?'' Sam asked.

''I doubt that. I haven't sensed the AI acting up at all,'' Springtrap replied. ''It seems like it's just me inside this suit.''

''I wish I could somehow help you with that,'' Sam said.

''You're already doing a lot for me, more than I had anticipated,'' Springtrap replied, sitting next to her.

''Yeah, it is a little strange that I'm still here and talking to you,'' Sam said.

''You mean the fact that you're talking to a dangerous murderer and still alive despite that,'' Springtrap said, his eyes glowing purple. He looked worried.

''Kinda,'' Sam said, with Springtrap feeling that there was more to it. ''I am not really afraid of you, but I do feel sometimes a little unnerved by your presence.''

Springtrap lowered his head. He had already expected her to tell him that and he felt bad about it. He wanted to make her feel comfortable, but it was obvious that that would be hard, if not impossible, to achieve.

''I'm sorry about that,'' he muttered.

''Remember what happened when we first met?'' Sam said in a dark tone. ''You basically dragged me into an empty building and threatened me, and the first thing you told me was: 'Do you really think I would let you go so easily? Don't struggle, it'll be over soon.'. I was completely freaked out and afraid for my life. It was as if I was stuck in a nightmare.''

Springtrap stared at her, a little shocked. He was aware that what happened that evening was probably burned into her memory, but he didn't really expect her to quote his exact words back at him. He lowered his head, his eyes glowing in a soft purple. It feels like ages had passed since then-

''I did see you as my next victim,'' he said, clenching his fists. ''I am not making an excuse for what I did, but at that time, I figured that I should just continue with what I had started.''

He suddenly went silent. I was allowed to return and finish what I had started. But, what I did…

''William?'' He opened his eyes, seeing Sam's worried expression. It wasn't the worry and fear he had seen in his victims, but something different. Unlike the children, he wasn't a stranger to her.

''Sam, I'm sorry that I hurt you,'' he said in a comforting tone. ''I don't want to see you being hurt again.''

His eyes were glowing purple and he was aware that he wouldn't achieve much with just apologizing to her, even if he was sincere about everything he said. Not to mention, there is still what I had planned for her. For both of us. His eyes flared purple. Something I had started and now I need to finish.

''William, what's going on?'' Sam asked. Springtrap frowned.

''Sam, I am not trying to atone for what I did, but there is something I need to do,'' he said.

''Does it involve murder?'' Sam asked in a quiet tone, with Springtrap staring at her, a dark, determined look on his expression.

''They have already happened,'' he said.

xXx

It was another busy day, with children and adults trying to enjoy the time they spent at this place. He was moving around the place, weaving through the groups of people, easily avoiding bumping into any of them, despite the fact that he wore a mascot suit. He was already used to it, capable of finding his way through the crowd.

He would occasionally stop, greet parents and their children, sing and dance with them or merely direct them towards the arcades, the animatronics or the counter where they could order something to eat or drink. It was a job he enjoyed, being able to act the way he never would when the mask was off. He was a different person, able to share his feelings with others, but at the same time hiding his true intentions. Once again, he was walking on a thin line, this one being between reality and imagination.

Still, something was missing.

As he walked around, checking on everything, he saw someone familiar looking at the animatronics that were performing on the stage, a teen with brown hair. She seemed to be quite curious about the robots.

She looks lovely today.

He approached her, amused that she didn't even notice him.

''Hello there,'' he said. ''I see you have taken interest in my friends.''

The girl suddenly turned around, surprised to see Ricky staring at her. Suddenly, they got approached by another girl, who took the teen's hand and the two quickly walked away, gossiping about something. The man inside the costume felt a deep sense of dissatisfaction, the feeling of anger rushing through his body.

This wasn't the girl I was searching for.

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#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)

[mikaelsrose]

ONE SHOT: Princeling

Pairing: Tyril x (MC) Selene AU

Word count: 2800

Warnings: It's a smut, ok? Minors pls dni

A/n: Kinda enemies to lovers to enemies, kinda the result of a kinky thought at 2am. Fantasy politics. Don't read too much into it. Embrace the horny.

Tag list: @cashweasel @brycesgirl @watatsumi-island @sophie-summer @lilyoffandoms (if I forgot about someone I'm really sorry, keeping my taglist up-to-date proved to be impossible with my goldfish memory and the belief that "I'LL REMEMBER I DON'T HAVE TO WRITE IT DOWN) @choicesficwriterscreations

He tapped his fingers on the desk nervously, glancing at the clock every few seconds. She was running late. She was never late. His heart pounded at the very thought that the guards caught her, but he immediately reassured himself, thinking that she was a master charmer and a family member of the King's advisor—nobody should question her presence in the palace. Selene knew how to manipulate like nobody else.

Unable to stay in one place, Tyril opened the balcony door, trying to get as much fresh air into the room as possible despite the high humidity. The palace was located in the Valley of the Rhine, overgrown with ever blooming greenery, which only added to the feeble air circulation caused by the tropical climate of the kingdom. He ran a hand through his long hair, wet at the base, and took a deep breath. No use, the air outside was just as still as inside. 

Tyril, with his back against the balcony’s pillar, rubbed his tired eyes. He was being ridiculous. 

"Long day, Prince?"

His head perked up at the sound of her voice.

"Yes. However, we finally got to the pleasurable part," he responded, trying his best to contain the smile that tried to bloom on his face at her sight. “You’re late.”

Selene locked the door, taking her time with the answer, trying to determine the prince’s mood. Having grown up learning his behaviour, two words were enough to decipher what was happening in his mind. He was tired and perhaps still sore after the morning's sword fighting training which, according to a rumour, ended rather badly for the prince. 

She made her way towards him, slowly, gracefully, never breaking eye contact. It was a game, a contest with no particular goal, one that originated almost a decade earlier when she was first officially introduced at the palace as the daughter of Lord Vinsant, a respected and esteemed royal advisor who has been performing his duty for over thirty years. Selene vividly remembered the young prince, standing next to the King, as stiff as a board but smiling impudently, holding her gaze as if looking away equalled death. 

She wrapped her arms around his stomach, veiled by a silk robe. "Mal held me back."

Tyril nodded imperceptibly. 

"Did he ask you to hurry up and give him an answer already?"

"Don't spoil the mood."

The corner of his lips raised slightly, against his will and to hide his discomfort, his palm cupped Selene's face. "You look decent tonight."

She raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Decent? Decent is all I get for standing in the fitting room for three hours?"

"You know no humility."

"I know I deserve more than what you give me."

Tyril swallowed, his gaze slipping to her lips in a futile attempt to end the conversation. Although she meant it in a different context, she was right. She deserved more from him. 

Selene shook her head, changing the subject. 

"Let me take care of you, prince Tyril," she whispered, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. A barely audible "please" left his lips, just seconds before her tongue slid across his lower lip. 

Tyril would never admit what Selene's been aware of for years, the fact that she had him wrapped around her finger. She knew how to press his buttons, how to please him, how to make him believe her wishes and intentions were his own. The day he realised how she's played him, he gave her the best sex of her life. For the next week he was insufferable, bitter and twisted, making everyone's life unbearable, but it was worth it. 

"That must've been painful," mumbling into his lips, she outlined the black bruise on his hip when his pants fell to the ground. Tyril ignored the remark, focusing on undoing the most intricate clasp he'd ever seen. 

"You did that on purpose," he mumbled.

"I like to watch you struggle."

Exasperated, Tyril wasted no time once the dress pooled at their feet—holding her firmly, he lifted her up and slid inside her when her back touched the cold wall. She bit back a moan, and Tyril cursed under his breath. He's waited almost a month to hear a moan coming out of her mouth.

"I'm glad there's still a way to make you stop talking," he panted into her mouth, and his grip on her thighs tightened, making sure to leave a mark. "But that's the wrong moment."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"I won't move until those pretty lips make the sound I want to hear."

"Can you last that long?"

"Can you?"

His hand wandered around her stomach to finally land in the place she wanted him the most, pressing and stroking the swollen nub. Having lost her resolve within seconds, Selene moaned, ready to beg and promise sweet nothings just to make him move.

He smiled defiantly. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" 

His hand, the one that rested between her legs, moved to cup her chin, but she intercepted it, guiding it back there. "It's staying there."

Being a frequent presence at the royal court, Selene knew all the gossip and news, which was made her a dangerous enemy. There was one rumour going around, though, that she could confirm—the royal dick was exquisite, and she found herself lucky to be the only one to have tasted it. 

She felt him leaving a love mark on hear collarbone but at that moment she could not care less, not when his hips did its wonders. The worrying could come later.

"Imagine the scandal if we were spotted," he gasped into her mouth, holding her tight against the wall, buried deep inside her warm core. Despite her best efforts to snap back, tease, anything really, all that left her throat were quiet whimpers. "You're trouble, my darling."

"Even if the news of our affair had spread, you wouldn't have suffered any consequences, Princeling."

"It's a bad fame all the same," he rasped before a particularly deep thrust. "The monarchy cannot be perceived as weak," another thrust. A quiet moan escaped his lips, and his left hand clasped around the base of Selene's throat, applying some pressure. "Do you understand?"

In a pathetic act of desperation, she tightened the grip of her legs around the Prince's waist, forcing him to step even closer, get even deeper. Mewling and squirming, writhing in his embrace, she would agree to anything. He allowed her to try and regain control, with parted, swollen lips and a flush on his cheeks, graciously allowed her to think she had him in her grasp. Feeling the familiar clenching of her muscles around him, Tyril tightened the grasp on her throat, lifting her head with his index finger, forcing her to look him in the eye. 

"I said, do you understand?" 

She nodded profusely, wrapping a hand around his.

"You will not be the fall of me."

"What makes you think I'd do that?"

"I know you, Lady Vinsant, you and your vindictive nature. Don't you dare try to destroy my legacy," he snapped. He felt her nails dig so deep into the skin of his back to draw blood. 

"Your entire legacy is the foundation of an elite whorehouse, Prince Starfury. I'd be afraid to catch the clap by touching the door handle," she stuttered out, panting. "Rest assured, I won't come close."

"You're forgetting your place."

"You're talking too much."

Seizing the opportunity, Selene guided his hand from her throat to her chest, to the part of her that always made his anger evaporate, his favourite toys, or rather stress balls. Having spent so much time with them, he learned to treat them with expert care and what to do to make it the most pleasurable experience for the owner. 

She allowed herself to rest, to let him do all the work, as her head rested against the wall and her embrace weakened slightly. For Tyril it was a sign that she was close, and thank heavens, because he's been trying his best to get her to finish first which was a massive fucking undertaking after a three-week-long abstinence. 

He relished those sinful sounds she made. At that moment, he'd swear those were the best piece of music to have ever been produced. Sober, he'd admitted to himself that the best thing he's ever heard was "You make me feel funny things." She was drunk, and that sentence was the culmination of a long speech about her growing up thinking he was the enemy, in which she implied over and over that she had feelings for him. They never discussed it as she didn't remember, and he wouldn't dare bring it up, but it's been often on his mind.

He did love to make her look like utter mess. A panting, sweaty, flushed mess, begging him to do things no lady should ever say out loud. That he did admit to her. And she took his words to heart.

"That's new," Selene hummed, softly dragging her finger across a long, red scar on his abdomen. Tyril watched her with his head resting against the headboard, calmly taking in the sight of her pink cheeks and the slightly turned-up nose. Having reached over to the night stand, he handed her a glass jar with salve, which she took wordlessly. As she busied herself with applying the cold, sticky mixture on the angry looking skin, Tyril wrapped a streak of her blonde hair around his finger, the only curled one due to high humidity in the valley. 

"A close encounter with a harpy."

"Why do you do that? Why go out into the unknown when you have an army ready to grub up the entire greenery surrounding the castle?"

"For the thrill, I suppose. The castle becomes dull after a while, let alone after almost thirty years," he responded with a shrug, letting go of her hair and taking a look around the spacious chamber. 

Selene raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you let Círdan defeat you this morning?"

"Why do you find it so hard to believe I simply lost this time? Círdan is the teacher, after all—he is supposed to be better than me. Otherwise, he would have nothing to teach me."

Selene snorted. She leaned over him, placing the jar on the night stand, her knee accidentally touching his crotch. 

An innocent smiled stretched on her lips as she saw him clench his jaw. "A harpy wasn't able to defeat you, but Círdan was?"

"Stop talking," he growled. 

She knew. Perhaps she'd known for a long time, and it was him who was oblivious to the obvious. He put himself in dangerous positions just to get a boost of adrenaline, a dangerous tactic, especially practised by an overconfident and stuck up prince. 

"Make me."

There was no foreplay in their case ever. They kept teasing each other, yes, but simply because that's how they preferred to get the deed done. That's why Tyril pushed her legs apart and placed himself between them, almost without a word. "I can go all night, love, but by midnight you'd lose your voice."

"I'm glad you still know your place, prince."

The way this man knew exactly how to please her made question his truthfulness—he swore she was his first, but his skills made him seem to be very much experienced, thus, he was either lying or just that talented. Whichever option it was, Selene was just glad she got to experience that before she died—she doubted anyone would ever make her feel that good again. 

When his hands reached over towards her chest, she knew it was over for her, it always went down the exact same way. His tongue worked relentlessly and excellently, the affirmation of that could probably be heard even by the guards passing by that side of the palace. Infuriatingly enough, he made it a point of honour not to use his fingers, so Selene instructed him to at least be a bit rougher with her breasts. She held a spark of hope when suddenly her legs began to tremble and his hands went back to keep them from strangling him—yet the prince remained ignorant of her shameless pleas. 

The climax was much more intense than they'd both expected, but as Selene lied spent in utter bliss, Tyril couldn't help but feel proud of himself. He left several wet kisses on the inside of her thighs and lazily rolled out of the embrace of her warmest part to lie next to her.

"The match has been made," Tyril spoke up once his breath evened out. Selene hummed against his neck, encouraging him to elaborate, as she took deep breaths, trying to calm down her pounding heart. 

"It's your friend, Lady Ade—"

"Who made that call?"

He swallowed, rapidly thinking of all the possible outcomes of this conversation. Perhaps he made a mistake by bringing up that subject.

"The King."

She nodded. The most important task now was to convince herself it was better that way.

"What about you? Have you made the decision yet? You can't keep them waiting, Selene, unless your plan is for them to give you up," he murmured, tenderly stroking her back. "You have to accept a suitor."

"I'm good."

He sighed. Tyril knew she waited for him to take matters into his own hands and choose her, to stand up to his father, to rule the land in a way that would bring prosperity and calmness. Meanwhile, she was right, his only achievement was founding a high quality house of ill repute. 

"I can't give you what you desire, my darling."

She propped her head on one hand, the other she rested on his cheek, stroking it tenderly. A smile stretched on her lips at the similarity of his eyes to the ocean she's seen recently. Calm, peaceful, yet hiding unbounded amounts of power, rage, and destruction. Instead of saying, "I know," she licked her lower lip and kissed him, slowly and tenderly, relishing in the feeling of his tongue against hers. "Be good to her, Tyril," she whispered instead, and untangled herself from his embrace. 

Tyril suddenly felt overwhelmed by the spreading panic as he watched her dress herself and approach the door. 

"It pains me to think of you with someone else, but it has to be done. You were never mine, I don't have the right to ask you to stay."

"I was yours over and over again," she mumbled. "All you had to do was speak up–"

"It wouldn't have changed anything, Selene. Your knowledge of the power relations in the palace is faulty. As long as the King reigns, no one in his family has the right to decide for themselves."

"And Adeline, of all people," she continued, fighting with the zip of her dress. Murmuring to herself, she collected her belongings, careful not to forget anything since she was probably never coming back there. She halted her actions when she'd realised Tyril became quiet a while ago. Suspiciously quiet. She came closer to him, searching for an answer in his profile. For the first time, he didn't dare look her in the eye, and that very fact made her feel a pit in her stomach. Thinking of all their encounters, of her audiences with the Royal Family, balls and trainings, she couldn't come up with the reason for his behaviour. 

"Her father is a very influential man–"

"No," she snapped. "Don't you dare lie to me now. Look at me."

It was unusual to see the prince so uncomfortable. In a different situation, she'd gloat. Now she had to stop herself from clenching her hand on his jaw and crushing that spoilt pretty face. 

"It was a decade ago. It was her mother who spread the rumours about you," he said low, his gaze dropping to her clenched jaw. "You've been out of the competition since then. That was the cost of your father retaining his position. A marriage with you would weaken us."

His hand itched to wipe the tear that rolled down her rosy cheek. 

"You used me," she hissed through gritted teeth. "I've come here every week for a year. We've known each other since we were children," she blinked, trying to get rid of the tears gathering in her eyes. She felt her body shaking with rage and desperation. He betrayed her. "You've known and didn't think of telling me. Instead, you watched me abase myself before you and–"

"Don't pretend that you didn't come here out of your own volition to get properly fucked–”

Slap. Tyril snorted.

"I've never regretted not having a knife in my hand as much as I do right now."

"If you want to make me the villain, go ahead. You're in no position to actually hurt me."

Selene shook his head in disbelief. Was it a game for game since the very beginning? It certainly didn't feel so at the moment, but perhaps he was just that good of a manipulator. More than at him, she was angry with herself for actually believing he was different from what everyone around her said.

"Watch your back, Princeling."

[ablatheringblatherskite]

4, 10, 20, 135? :)

AAAAAHHH YAYY, thank you so much for the ask, Teaspoon (can I call u that?? Or do u have a better nickname suggestion!)!! So sorry it took a bit, I was trying to PERFECT this answer LOL (the book recc part especially took me a bit HAHA)

4. A poetry book that reads like a story

I think I'm gonna have to say When We Were Very Young and Now We Are Six by A.A. Milne!! I absolutely adore those poem books aaaaaaaa, I left them in our other home and I miss it so muchhh. I'm not sure if the question means all poems are connected or each poem feels like a story on its own, to me they really feel like the latter. They're so cute and beautiful and charming and nostalgic and agghhhhh

here's some of my favorites, just to name two of many:

and

Wind On The Hill

No one can tell me, Nobody knows, Where the wind comes from, Where the wind goes.

It’s flying from somewhere As fast as it can, I couldn’t keep up with it, Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding The string of my kite, It would blow with the wind For a day and a night.

And then when I found it, Wherever it blew, I should know that the wind, Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them Where the wind goes… But where the wind comes from Nobody knows.

10. A book that got you through something

Okay this is a toughie, but only because I can't remember any specific times. BUT BOOKS HAVE ALWAYS AND FOREVER WILL HELP ME GET THROUGH A LOT OF DIFFICULT THINGS!

BUT one book that I am sure has helped me through SOME difficult things is Inkheart by Cornelia Funke. That's honestly one of my main comfort books ever since I was like, ten years old. Some people consider it to be slow but I think that's why I love it 🥺. It really takes time to depict the more mundane, realistic moments in between the high-stakes, perilous ones in their adventure. It's really about the ENTIRE journey, and I really love that

20. A book that got you out of a reading slump

I think one book that ripped me FIERCELY out of a reading slump was Wings of Fire, book 6: Moon Rising. I absolutely LOVE the Wings of Fire series (it's no surprise that it's about dragons LOL. I... love dragons...), and I'll be honest after finishing the first quartet I was skeptical about continuing to the next part of the series just because it ended so well, but I was NOT DISAPPOINTED. Disclaimer: I have yet to find a copy of book seven... BUT CAN'T WAIT FOR WHEN I FINALLY DO 😭

135. Recommend any book you like!

oh GOSH THERE'S SO MANY TO CHOOSE FROM. UMMM. Alright I have two!

Okay so there's Inkheart by Cornelia Funke, a REALLY underrated book imo that I love so much, that I think you'd like if you like fantasy and adventure that takes place in the real world. I don't know if COZY is the right word for it but it'd really cozy to me even if they characters are often in danger lol, but I think the biggest reason I love it so much is because it's a real love letter to books and reading (and even writing as well!). It's about a book binder and his daughter, and the book binder has the ability to read characters from books to life. I read it when I was ten and have loved it ever since.

Then there's the Wings of Fire quartet by Tui T. Sutherland, which I ABSOLUTELY LOVE TO THIS DAY. If you love dragons and fantasy, then you'd probably like this!!! Yeah it's a children's book but who CARES. This book series is about five dragonets who have been told all their life that they are destined to stop the Sandwing queen war, and their journey as they try to do exactly that. The world-building is so cool, with the different type of dragons, and I love the five main characters so much and their relationship with each otherrrrr. Seriously one of my favorite series ever.

ANYWAY IM SORRY AGAIN FOR THE LATE RESPONSE!! I've been thinking about this ask for days I swear thank you so much for asking it 🥹

If you wanna ask me more book-related asks, fire away!!

[transadvice]

I am kinda questioning whether I'm trans and I honestly just need some help tbh because I feel like I'm struggling and haven't seen much or anything off people sharing my experiences. Ik I'm probably just on the wrong side of the internet and there's loads but I fell really alone right now and I don't have anyone to take to about it and my mental health isn't at a great place rn. I'm still a teen so Ik I'm young and I'm a bit of a late bloomer so I'm currently in puberty and it's honestly hell. I don't recognise the person in the mirror and I feel like I'm changing into the opposite of what's right. I see so many people talking about how they realised they were trans and how they always felt this way but I honestly don't see myself in that. I'm afab and I've not had any kind of issue with gender as a child. I mean I guess "girl" didn't feel right but I just felt normal so I didn't object. I feel like my world and identity is collapsing around me and everything to do with me hurts. I've never had long hair but I desperately wish I was shorter. I like clothes and most of mine are feminine and I even enjoy wearing long skirts but I honestly can't bear to wear shorts or t shirt because my arms and legs look so wrong. I mentally always refer to myself as a boy and when I envision myself in the future I see a man. I'd love to look like a boy but it's just not me. That's not who I am. I'm not trans because I'm just not. I really really desperately wish I was though but I just hate everything. Idk this is probably all incoherent rambles but I just need to get it out. I'm in a safe space if I was trans. My close family and friends support and my boyfriend is a trans man so I do definitely have exposure to it. I just don't feel like I'm the same as any other man or boy I see. I still enjoy being feminine but terms like girl and lady make me want to scratch my skin off. The person I see in the mirror is not me in the slightest. I have autism so idk if that's what it is because Ik that is common for female autistic people to not feel female and this is probably just something that comes with puberty but I seriously have no idea what to do about this. I could talk to my therapist but I'm not sure I have the words. I don't want to be trans. I really really don't. I'm queer and autistic and afab and that makes the world a scary place with so much staked against me and I'm terrified. I don't want to add another thing to the list of things people can discriminate against me be because. This is probably too long and incoherent and I'm really sorry but I just need to vent

Hey! Thanks for writing in. I am sorry to hear you are experiencing the pain of gender dysphoria. Your experiences sound very familiar to me, a trans person, if that helps you at all. If you’re asking if I think you’re trans, the answer is yes. Lots of trans people didn’t know they were trans in childhood; didn’t experience dysphoria in childhood; and never had an issue with gender in childhood. For many people, including myself, dysphoria starts in puberty or later. If your dysphoria is mostly physical - about how you feel in your body - it makes sense that you wouldn’t feel it until your body changes.  If you’re a teen, and you know some trans people your own age, then you know a subset of trans people knew they were trans in childhood. That doesn’t mean those are all the trans people who can or will exist. The folks who, like you, are figuring it out in adolescence (or later) have not come out yet. I promise you are not alone. Go to an online or IRL place where trans adults are talking (e.g. a support group) and you will find plenty of trans people who don’t fit the “I always knew” narrative.  The fact that you’re autistic doesn’t mean you’re cis. Lots of autistic people are trans. Actually, there is a surprising overlap - a higher percent of autistic people are trans compared to allistic people. Nobody really knows why this is. “Uncomfortable Labels” by Laura Kate Dale is one book by an autistic trans woman that discusses this phenomenon. “I’d love to look like a boy, but it’s just not me”: this feels like a very familiar sentiment to me. Before I transitioned, I felt that it would be impossible to do so; that I didn’t have the right; that the shape of my body and way other people categorized me dictated what I was allowed to do or want, or how I was allowed to identify. I don’t feel that way anymore. The impostor syndrome gradually ebbed away as I got further along in my transition. It felt impossible at the start, but I realized that I could do it by doing it.  The thing is that “I’d love to look like a boy” is not something that cis girls think. “When I envision myself in the future, I see a man” is not the way cis girls feel about their future. Cis people don’t wish they were trans. Wanting to be trans is diagnostic of being trans.  It doesn’t work the other way around, by the way. Many trans people wish they were cis, at least some of the time, because society rewards cis people. Wanting to be cis is logical in such circumstances, and doesn’t necessarily mean you’re cis. What would be a sign that you’re cis? Idk just not having a problem, not thinking about it. Any kind of painful longing about gender is a trans thing because cis people just don’t have a problem with gender.  Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose whether you’re trans or cis. You can’t decide not to be trans because it’s too hard. You can decide whether or not to transition, whether or not to tell anyone, whether or not to explore your gender presentation, what name and pronouns to use, how to dress, and so on - but you can’t decide to not be trans. Depending on your circumstances, staying closeted is sometimes a logical and reasonable choice. But it’s also true that when questioning trans people begin to think about coming out, transitioning, or taking the first steps toward exploring their gender, many of us people overestimate the danger and difficulty of the road ahead, and underestimate the joy and freedom. The good news here is that transition is an effective treatment for dysphoria, and that you can take it at your own pace and choose which aspects you want to do based on what feels good and right at any given time.  You identified two steps that sound like good places to start: talking to your therapist, and getting a shorter haircut. Neither of these commits you to do anything else, but both may give you more information that you can use to inform your next steps. 

[bonnie-is-bumbling]

Oh, man is my anxiety high lately. It's troubling not to know if it's because of something real, or if ye olde AFAB body is not being fab.

I have PCOS which, to stay short and sweet, means I have a bit more testosterone in me than your normal AFAB person will. This causes PMS, periods, and cycles to go absolutely out of whack. If you're curious about it, I highly reccomend Google. Or you can ask me, but know I am absolutely NOT a medical professional. I work at a bloody hotel. I can tell you what I do know, and I can tell you what I gather from that, and my own thoughts on it- But I repeat: I am NOT a medical professional.

But this post was about anxiety, so let's hop back to that.

Today, I got on Facebook. Not because I regularly use it. In the spirit of honesty- I use it 99.9% for memes. But today, I had a question, one that had been burning a hole in my mind.

For some context: I live in a town of about 9000 people (about half-ish of which are the inmates of the state prison, which is hosted in our town.) We are about 100 miles (roughly 161 km) from any larger civilization. That said, if you make a fool of yourself, the whole town knows. The windiest in the state, and sitting at an elevation of 7000 feet (2.13 km), I really wondered about our local airport.

I hopped onto the local Facebook group and for WEEKS I had let this question burn- I was so bloody scared that I was just making a fool of myself. Or that I was asking in the wrong group and would be mocked. People would see me and go "That's the dumb kid that asked a question she should have already known the answer to!" Or "What are you asking about aviation for? You work at a hotel!"

People really aren't usually so mean. But my brain immediately thought they would be, just because it was me asking, and not someone more qualified to ask.

When I finally jumped the gun tonight and asked, I told myself "You know what? SOME people are going to be assholes. But this is a non-offensive question. It's a reasonable question, and I'm going to state at the beginning AND end of my post that I'm legitimately just curious on how pilots take off and land at our mountainous, windy airport that's subject to the cruel winters and thick ice.

And I was pleasantly surprised.

People actually were up and willing to answer my question, and it sparked conversation that was neither mean, nor degrading. Nobody thought my question was silly, childish, ridiculous, or dumb. And in retrospect, it really isn't a dumb question. Maybe not a commonly asked one is all. And that's okay.

It just seems I over thought once more. And as many of us with anxiety can probably relate to- I always have to think things through. But I worry- Am I not thinking deep enough into it?... And here begins the spiral- I start thinking waaaay too hard and it just grows more and more negative- Sometimes driving me into utter inaction. It's not better to just sit and wonder than look stupid, but my brain will absolutely convince me it is.

Tomorrow, my 17 year old dog meets his new groomer. I'm absolutely worried about what the groomer will think. But I have to keep in mind that my dog is 17, and is expected to look, feel, and act like a REALLY old dog. The groomer is related to his recently retired groomer, and is aware of his age, condition, warts, blindness and all. She is also very aware that he's a dog with a constantly snuggly and licky attitude. Groomers know animals. She's been at it for decades, and likely has seen worse.

This is all affirming, but my brain is so obsessed with this thought I wish it would quit bringing up. This thought is that on this dog of healthy weight, happy temperament, and wiggly tail, she's gonna see his rough skin and have him taken. Which in reality, worst that would happen is I would be told "Hey, I can't groom him today, but you should ask the vet about [insert whatever here]."

My dog, a cocker spaniel at seventeen years old, is a good 24 pounds, always on the move, eats, sleeps, drinks, potties, plays. His hair, though thinning, is shiny and soft, free of matting. For seventeen, he is absolutely doing well, and I know my brain is being utterly irrational.

And for me, that's the hardest part of anxiety.

For me, anxiety is almost always very irrational. My house settles, as a 123 year old house does with changing temperatures. It's spring time here, and so the old bones are having a stretch. My roof is fine. I have personally checked. And yet my brain still reacts as if the house is about to just cave in... And with all the literal proof I have, I'm well aware my brain is talking nonsense.

It's absolutely irritating to know something, but have a nagging little voice in the head telling you you're wrong, always wrong, in danger all the time, not safe, error 404 braincell not found. It makes me mad at myself, upset that I can't make a decision, I can't make a move, feel stupid for asking for help. I don't know everything, and that's a fact. But I know SOME things, and my own brain treats me as if I don't. Not without absolute proof. Proof not even a 'Karen' can argue with. Proof that NOBODY can deny... And do you know how impossible that is?

I don't need seven scientists to tell me I'm safe to sit down in this chair or ask a question to quench my curiosity. Really, why can't my own mind and I be in sync? I blame anxiety. It could be something more, or I could just be an incompetent buffoon like my brain insists and treats me like. I don't entirely know, but I will say it's absolutely turbulent and irks the hell out of me.

[wc-fourfates]

Clantember Day 1: Territories

ThunderClan

ThunderClan’s territory is ancient woodland comprised largely of oaks, but also with ash, beech, and elm mixed in. There’s a good mix of clearings and areas with denser underbrush, suited to a variety of hunting styles. There aren’t any human walking paths, but there are a variety of deer paths.

To the North is the Thunderpath, their border with ShadowClan. Because of the inconvenience of crossing, ThunderClan has little contact with ShadowClan except at Gatherings. Technically ShadowClan also owns a small strip of forest between the Thunderpath and Fourtrees, but it is not commonly used unless the extra hunting grounds are sorely needed. The Snakerocks are found along this border, and the Sandy Hollow is due North from camp.

To the East is the edge of the Twolegplace. It is a large town/small city, the portion that borders ThunderClan territory being a peaceful residential area. Most kittypets in the area are indoor-outdoor cats that go in for the night, and most are smart enough not to venture into the woods but instead hang around the yards or in Treecutplace.

To the South is Treecutplace. In this area of England, junipers are the only native conifers, and the rest are only found where cultivated. Here, lodgepole pines are planted for timber, and there is little undergrowth as they are regularly harvested. ThunderClan’s border markers end at the edge of Treecutplace, but they sometimes hunt here when the humans aren’t too active.

To the West is the River, which marks their border with RiverClan, and Fourtrees more to the Northwest. The Owl-tree is not far from Fourtrees, marking the end of ThunderClan’s territory in that direction.

RiverClan

RiverClan is mostly dry heath, with lots of alder and silver birch along the river. The river itself is relatively slow-moving along much of the territory, and therefore safe to swim in so long as one is careful to stick to those parts. There is also a large stream running through the territory, around which the camp is built.

To the North, the River cascades down forming the Falls, into the Gorge that divides their territory from WindClan. The steep, sandy slopes are navigable provided one is careful, but falling over the edge unprepared spells almost certain death.

The river curves around, flowing from the North down to the East border of the territory. The river is the calmest here, safest for swimming and fishing. When Sunningrocks was an island, it was a favored spot for swimming, fishing, and relaxing, and it still is, provided RiverClan can keep a claim over it for any length of time.

To the South, the territory is cut off by a small Thunderpath leading to the Farmhouse. It’s a small family farm of several acres, containing a Twoleg den, a handful of assorted livestock, pastureland, and some actively planted fields. RiverClan keeps a friendly relationship with the few barn cats.

To the East, there is more free heathland. RiverClan doesn’t always bother to mark this border, so there is no hard line on where it ends. Though they could claim more of this territory, it is not especially fruitful for hunting and so they usually consider it more trouble than it’s worth to head all the way out to hunt and patrol. The Flood-camp, the backup area RiverClan evacuates to in case of heavy rain or meltwater, is located East of the main camp.

WindClan

WindClan is comprised of lovely heath and moors with very few trees and shrubs. The elevation increases steadily from Fourtrees, transitioning smoothly into the mountains north of the territories.

To the North, WindClan borders on the Thunderpath. Past the Thunderpath is the mountains, which are definitely on the smaller end for mountains, with fairly smooth slopes. The mountain closest to the territories is often referred to as “the Mother”, supposedly because the top resembles a mother cat and her kittens when viewed from the right angle. “Mothermouth” is the entrance to an aborted attempt at a mine, within which lies the Moonstone. Cross-the-Way Barn is a bit south of Mothermouth, and it’s where Barley lives.

To the East, WindClan borders on Fourtrees and on the edge of ThunderClan’s forest territory. The first large slope past Fourtrees is named Runner’s Hill, after Windstar herself. The Outlook Rock lies just East of camp, allowing a cat to survey a large portion of the territory at once.

To the South is the Gorge that borders RiverClan. WindClan cats, having little reason to go down to the water, tend to mark their border well away from this so no cat accidentally runs too near the edge.

To the West is largely farmland, though the area immediately around the River continues uninterrupted for some way. Though WindClan will hunt upriver in times of need, they don’t claim this territory for the same reason RiverClan doesn’t - it simply isn’t worth is most of the time to stray so far from camp.

ShadowClan

ShadowClan is largely valley bog and alder carrs, though the elevation varies enough therein that it can usually be traversed without getting muddy. The bog supports a variety of birds, reptiles and amphibians for the cats to prey on.

The North, South, and West borders are all demarcated by the Thunderpath, and to the East is the Twolegplace. Though they’re bordered on all sides by Twoleg activity, ShadowClan’s territory is usually left quite well alone because of how difficult it is for humans to traverse and build on. However, this also means that in times of scarcity they do not have any additional areas to expand to.

To the South is the border with ThunderClan, and also where they have the driest and most densely forested area. The Burnt Sycamore resides in a clearing near this border.

Carrionplace is located to the Northwest, and cats will hunt here occasionally. Other areas are usually preferred, but Carrionplace rats are often turned to when other prey is scarce. Contrary to the stereotypes, they do not eat crowfood, but hunting parties do often come back smelling like it.

[soxcietyy]

Doll House

In a world where females are not commonly born you are kidnapped and taken to the kingdom of Valgore to be sold off to whoever can afford you. The General of the knights Yuta Okkotsu who isn’t sure if he wants a wife, takes you in but you arnt going to make his life easy by submitting yourself to him.

Tw: bad language, violence, drinking, beating, woman being mistreated, abuse, murder, rape, things that may trigger people.

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Opening your bed room door you see Fushiguro standing there looking a bit bothered. He wore beige pants with a white dress shirt. His hair was messy looking like he ran over here. "Sorry the seamstress took her time." The butler said as he closed the door behind you as you stepped out. He followed behind you grabbing a bag from one of the butlers. From how heavy it looked you assumed it was a bag of golden coins. You were going shopping after all. Still wearing the same thing from yesterday you went out hopefully nobody would say anything about it. 

You sat in a jewelry shop waiting for the owner to bring you his goods. As you waited you watched how Megumi tapped his finger on the glass case. He was inpatient knowing they had a schedule to follow. He had to get you jewelry, soaps, woman sanitary products, and books for you to study your reading and writing and more. You were already an hours late due to the seamstress taking her time with you back home. When you first saw him he looked like he was stressing from the beginning. "I should of booked an appointment before coming here." Fushiguro sighs hitting his hand and the glass. He really didn't want to disappoint Yuta. You hesitated to talk to the boy but it looked like he needed something to distract him. You didn't want to walk around with an angry boy all day. 

"I don't think Iv introduced myself properly I'm y/n Okkotsu. How about you?" You ask resting your hand on your chin. He looked at you surprised seeing it was the first time you spoken. "Megumi Fushiguro." He says quietly. "So do you like live with Gojo?" You ask. "Uh not really I have my own place he pays for." Megumi says. "Oh when do you think of having a wife?" You say taking a seat. "Probably in the feature when I'm more financially stable..." he said looking down at all these pricey necklaces he would most likely be buying in the future. 

"It seems wrong to me though," he said looking off. That last thing caught you off guard. 

"Ah I have them right here! These are my new arrivals!" A man with a thick curly mustache said. He brought a suite case full of different jewlery displayed. Some having diamonds, rubys, emeralds and more. You slowly picked one up seeing it shine with the sun light. The small gold chain with a small emerald on it. "Is that the one you want? Theres is other ones in the box." Megumi said lifting another one up. But for some reason this one caught your attention. Something about it just screamed "take me home!"

Looking up at Megumi he nods and tells the seller to box it up for you also handing the man a note. You squint trying to read what the note said but goodness that handwriting wasn't legible. 

Walking down the streets of Valgore you noticed how men would great you with a wide smile. Offering you anything they could for free. One even offered you a deers head. Some dared not to approach due to the fact that you were holding onto Megumi arm. But everyone knew you wernt his wife. The word had already gone around on that Yuta owned you. So they would attempt to hit on you hoping you would have an affair. Megumi would try to make them run off but some wernt intimidated by him as much as others. You felt bad for the boy he didn't ask for this job. Gojo had made him watch over you since Yuta was going to be at work today. 

He was a quiet boy, he didn't really speak much unless he had to. Offering you different items  and answering your questions. After an hour of walking you guys decided to get something to eat at a near restaurant. It was a very well known place with the commoners. Megumi brought you thinking it might help you be less home sick. Or at least make you more comfortable being around people of your kind. Walking in everyone's attention went towards you. He lead you to a table in the far corner away from people. You sticked out like a sore thumb. Wearing a big gowns and different types of jewelry. As much as you appreciate his effort you knew nothing of these people. 

"What would you like to eat?" He asks bringing a small menu. Looking over you see foods you do recognize. "I'll take this stew" you tell him and he looked at what you pointed at. He hummed in response and left to go order. The atmosphere felt a bit off. You weren't sure why it felt this way. Maybe it was because you were the only female. Looking around you would always catch someone looking at you. From little kids to old men. It gave you a weird feeling making your want to hide in a corner. The only thing to comfort you was the warm smell of the cooking in the back. Thankfully he soon come back with a food in his hands. He places your bowl in front of you while he set his down. You watch the stem disappear into the air. "What you said back in the jewelry store you said something about it seeing weird. I keep thinking about it." You say blowing to cool your food down. 

"Ah yes, I think the way of obtaining a woman is wrong. I believe it should be done like the other regions where you have to actually meet and get along with the person before claiming them. Then again you shouldn't be claiming them as your property but as your other half." Megumi takes a spoonful of food as he finished speaking. You looked at him a bit shocked. Not being able to believe that a man actually thought such a way. This was the first time you've heard this. "You know I think your the first man I have gotten along with." You say as you continue eating. Seeing how he froze from what you said. Finding it hard to believe that he was the first and not your husband. You have his a soft smile as you look up to see peoples intense gaze on you. You shift uncomfortably in your seat trying your best to ignore them. 

"I'm glad to be someone your comfortable around with y/n." He bows his head a bit down. 

"Oh goodness you don't have to do that! I'm not royalty after all." You wave your hands in dismissal. 

"You may not be but your Husbands hold great power. He comes close to the royal court. He even gets a say in a few decisions. Meaning I will pay much due respect to you as much as I do to him." He tilts his head down once again. 

"Your such a good boy Megumi. I can see why your highly praised by the community. I dont mean to bother you but I would like to have you as my escort from now on! Since supposedly I can't be going out on my own." You say lifting his head up with a small tap on his shoulder. 

"Of course it would be of great honor to escort the generals wife around." Megumi said perking up. 

After talking a bit you two finish eating leaving your bowls empty. Megumi paid for the food as you waited at the table to leave. It was still quite packed inside but you shouldn't be surprised. This place had a big reason to be like this and that's because it was delicious. You could just remember the rich flavors on your tongue. Averting your eyes outside to the window you noticed a tall figure with a group of men. They all seemed like guards but the one leading them seemed oddly familiar. He wore a darker suit and had golden badges in him. He was directing a search on a man that was against the wall. Looking harder you noticed this was your husband. His wide shoulders and built arms standing out the most in his uniform. His hair perfectly done and his face looking focused. For a second you could of sworn your heart skipped a beat. "Why arnt you a pretty lady?" You train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a group of men approaching you. Doing what was best you ignored them. You could hear one of them scoff at your response. While the others snickered. A tall dark haired man slammed his hand on the table making you jolt. "Listen here n listening good. I will not be ignored by a female. Why don't you come sit with us? I'm sure your little friend won't mind." He whispered. 

"Actually I will." Megumi said grabbing the man's shoulder from behind. "How about you run along before I get you on the generals bad side." Megumi says pulling his from you. You could see how the man's hand balled into a fist. How he became sorta stiff. He threw his head back laughing. "Arnt you funny kid, your going to regret touching me." He said as he punched Megumi in the stomach. The teen stumbled back grabbing onto a table behind him. You let out a shaky breath knowing what was going to happen next. The group of men started surrounding him. You felt like you couldn't move. "Y/N! Run!" Megumi shouts as he throws a punch at one of the guys. That's when it started. They all started beating him, kicking, punching, slapping, and throwing objects. It was an awful sight to witness. You couldn't stand to watch but at the same time you couldn't leave him. A man would slam his head on the table several times while another punched him in the gut. You had to do something but what where you going to do to them? You looked around frantically for help but everyone else in the restaurant seemed to turn their heads to mind their own business. Listening to the teen grunt in pain repeatedly made your heart break. You could feel the tears in the corner of your eyes threatening to come our. "Please stop! Leave him alone he's just a boy!" You yell. It was as if you were invisible, nobody dared to bat an eye in your direction. They continued fighting and you could see Megumi loosing his strength slowly.

Then it clicked in you, your husband was outside. Booking it to the door you swing it open and started running to the direction you saw him last time.

Tags 🏷: @hannya-exists @pinkraindropsfell @halparkebitch

[certain-death-awaits]

Ages ago you made a post discussing whether Warren was irresponsible and I had disagreed. You had said you were busy, but you'd respond to my response later, but you never did, which I totally get! Life is crazy, I'm terrible at responding to things myself, so I'm not salty or anything at all! But I am still curious what your thoughts are. Are you up for having that discussion? No pressure whatsoever, to be clear, I realize this is old. I'd be happy to try to find the original post if you'd like

[the 2 year old post in question, for context]

You're right! I had the post in drafts, but by the time I had the time to answer it, I thought it would be too late to post. I'm happy to talk about it now. Keep in mind that I love Warren as a character, at least in the original series (I feel Dragonwatch wasn't true to a lot of original characterisations). For the sake of fairness, I'll only be talking about the original series. Using Dragonwatch to defend my position would be low-hanging fruit.

✧ We hear from Ruth Sorenson about how Warren goes behind Stan's back to give Newel and Doren a TV and batteries for it. They tell Seth he also got them high-quality tennis equipment, which must've been a trade.

"Graphite, light and strong", Newel said. "Warren got us our equipment. Back before he went all Boo Radley on us."

They also try to get Seth to trade for wine, which they sell as something impossible for him to get normally because of his age. Maybe they got used to doing this with Warren when he was young. Either way, is trading with the satyrs for anything (especially gold, given the means they use to get it) responsible?

✧ The reason Warren became albino in the first place was because he was carrying out a covert mission for the Knights of the Dawn. This is why he told nobody where he was going when he ventured into the valley of the four hills. He was supposed to remove and transfer the artifact to a secure location all on his own. Even though it was a secret mission, this is a ridiculous thing to do. Removing the artifact without the knowledge and consent of the caretaker is just theft. It makes sense to tell Stan at the very least; the only reason he retired from the Knights was because caretakers aren't allowed to be Knights. It's irresponsible to go in somewhere even a small modicum as dangerous without telling anyone else where you're going and when you'll return.

✧ During the battle with the guardian of the Sands of Sanctity, Warren gets severely injured. He's already been stabbed in the gut, and is feverish; this is an extremely serious injury. He's lost enough blood, it's surprising he's conscious. (To be fair, I don't think Mull understands how fragile humans are. He seems to think getting gored by antlers is easily survivable.) And then he gets bit by one of the guardian's snakes, and hot acidic sludge is sprayed across his chest and legs. Vanessa says he's dying, and offers him a gaseous potion to extend his life. He refuses this, and uses the spear to attack the guardian, using the rod to fall full speed at it for the last 30 feet. Here's a description of the state he's in by the time Kendra gets to him to save him.

Warren was a wreck, facedown, unconscious, breathing shallowly. Heaving with both hands, Kendra rolled him over, wincing as something inside of him crunched. His mouth was open. Tilting his head up, she tried to ignore the snapping sound his neck made, and dumped the potion into his mouth. His Adam's apple bobbed, and much of the fluid leaked out the sides of his mouth.

Clearly, this was not a wise move; had it not been for the Sands, I believe he would've died. Heroic, certainly. But it left Kendra alone with Vanessa. When Tanu arrives, he says Warren must be nearly gone, or he'd be able to move around freely. It doesn't guarantee the guardian will be killed, only that he will be, and the guardian still has another life that Vanessa would have to deal with.

✧ Warren's decision to confront Stingbulb! Kendra in the middle of the night seemed to me a terrible lapse in judgement. It's true he didn't know she was a stingbulb, but he suspects something of that magnitude. When Seth asks if mind control is likely, he shrugs and says nothing would surprise him. Any way it could've gone might have been disastrous. If it was mind control, there's the suicide tactic. If not that, then she could just make a scene, wake up her parents with screams of "there's a strange man in my house!", and neither Warren nor Seth would be able to give a reasonable explanation. He must've believed she was aligned with the enemy, because if he went in thinking it really was all her, and she sincerely believed in leaking these secrets, they'd have to have a long and involved conversation with her grandparents present. This outcome doesn't necessitate confronting her in the middle of the night.

✧ Peeking at Chalize on the Lost Mesa mission. You already know this one, but I am including it for others who might be reading. From Warren's perspective (not knowing Gavarog's true identity), Gavin warned everyone not to look at the dragon, staking his deal with her on the promise his companions were not to gaze upon her. This was dangerous, and there was no good reason for it.

✧ Warren basically convinces Seth to join the Knights on the Wyrmroost mission in SotDS. Seth fully intended to just sulk about it. Warren certainly didn't coerce him, but he more than encouraged him, and Seth wouldn't have been able to act alone. It should be obvious why this is irresponsible. You can read an excerpt from the book of the part where Warren collaborates with Seth to bring him on the mission here. I've put it in a pastebin, as it's a bit long to include here.

✧ I'm going to double down and say having Raxtus drop Warren so he could attack the harpy was still reckless behaviour. He had all the facts, yes, but none of the facts justify dropping Warren only to dive and catch him again moments later. The initial reason Warren had for wanting to be dropped was so Raxtus could make a speedier escape with Bracken and Kendra. The plunging attack manoeuvre doesn't facilitate that. Its sole purpose would be taking the chance that Warren is able to attack a harpy while falling. The risk is Warren falling to his death, or Raxtus botching the catch- imagine grabbing an arm or a leg and having it dislocate; or the harpy grab Warren and attempt to carry him off.

Now that I'm through with examples of Warren being irresponsible, let's move onto your point on there being a difference in thought process. I don't think there is much of a difference between Warren and Seth when it comes to their decision-making process. Here's an excerpt from right after Seth returns after stealing the unicorn horn.

 "I'm with your grandfather on this," Grandma said. "We love you and we're proud of you. The risks you took worked out this time. But how can we reward such behavior? Because we love you, we must teach you caution, or your boldness will destroy you. "

  "I weighed my options and made smart choices," Seth responded. "I didn't set out to borrow the horn. I only decided to try for the horn after Graulas showed how my skills as a shadow charmer gave me a realistic chance at success. It was me or nobody. What would Patton have done?"

  Warren chuckled. "He would have shaved the centaurs, dipped them in honey, covered them with feathers, and hung them up like a bunch of piñatas. " Kendra, Seth, and Tanu laughed. "I'm just saying. " ...

"Yeah, well, I'll give this stupid horn back to the centaurs before I get left out of the trip to Wyrmroost," Seth threatened. "Good luck taking it from me!"

  "It isn't going to be a vacation," Coulter said.

  "And it isn't about seeing cool dragons," Grandpa growled, clearly losing his temper.

  "Although they will be cool," Warren murmured, earning an elbow from Tanu.

 Tears brimmed in Seth's eyes. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say more; then he turned and stormed out of the room.

  "What are we going to do with that boy?" Grandma sighed.

  "I don't know," Grandpa said. "If he hadn't decided to go after the horn, we'd still be treading water. Maybe he's the only one of us seeing this clearly. "

  Grandma shook her head. "Don't kid yourself. His main interest is still the adventure. Saving the world is a happy side effect. This is all still a game to him. "

  "Patton was the same way," Warren mentioned. "He did a lot of good, partly because he relished the thrill. "

  "I think Seth cares," Kendra spoke up. "It isn't only about the fun anymore. I think he's learning. "

I think this part speaks for itself. And I get the feeling Warren's counting himself among the "like Patton" crowd. Warren and Seth do things for the right reasons, most of the time. I think that their most egregious risks come in situations with seemingly no way out, where their idea presents as an outlandish "so crazy it just might work" option. You bring up the time Seth went into Graulas' cave for the first time in GotSP. He goes in not knowing much at all, which is rash. He doesn't know Graulas will radiate fear, and he doesn't know he's immune to said fear. But he doesn't make this decision out of nowhere. Shadow! Tanu has assured his safety to him. Here's an excerpt from the book, which comes after paragraphs of Seth contemplating whether the risk is wise.

Was sneaking out of the house to follow the shadowy manifestations of Coulter and Tanu into the woods going to be dangerous? Absolutely. The question was whether the risk was justified.

Earlier that afternoon, Tanu had completed his transformation into a shadowman just outside the window. He had waited in the shade on the deck until sundown, when he had ventured off into the woods. A few hours later, with evening deepening, the silent shadows of Tanu and Coulter had returned. Visible only to Seth, they had stood halfway across the yard from the house, allowing Grandpa to address them from the deck. Tanu had indicated that all was well with two thumbs up, and they had gestured for Seth to follow them, inviting Grandpa to come along as well. Through pantomime, Coulter had expressed that he would scout ahead as they traveled in order to prevent encounters with dangerous creatures.

But Grandpa had declined the invitation. He had stated that if Tanu and Coulter could devise a way for him to follow them without Seth, he would consent to accompany them. As he told them this, Seth stood behind him making subtle gestures, stealthily pointing at Grandpa and shaking his head, then pointing at himself, then pointing at them, then winking. None but Seth could see Tanu salute that he had received the message.

The house had been still for some time. If he was going to follow through on the message he had mimed to Tanu and Coulter, the moment had arrived. But he hesitated. Was he actually going to disregard a direct order from Grandpa and entrust his life to the shadowy versions of Tanu and Coulter? If Tanu and Coulter had his best interests in mind, would they be willing to let him sneak away with them against Grandpa's wishes? Hopefully they were certain he would be safe and confident that Grandpa would thank them all later.

What were the possibilities? They might lead him into a trap. He might die or be transformed into a shadow himself. Then again, he might solve the mystery of the plague, restore Tanu and Coulter, and save Fablehaven.

Seth scooted out from under his covers, pulled on his shoes, and started tying the laces. The bottom line was that Grandpa would have been willing to risk his life on the gamble that the shadows of Tanu and Coulter meant to offer meaningful assistance. He would have followed them if he could have done so alone. He simply was not willing to risk Seth's life. To Seth, this proved that the risk was worth taking. If Grandpa loved him too much to let him take a worthwhile risk, then he would bypass Grandpa.

It speak for itself. This is the option that presents itself to him, as the gang seems backed into a corner. They don't know what to do about the plague. Stan seems defeated; he questions if he's fit for his role as caretaker. They contemplate ditching the preserve before the plague claims them as victims, but stand by because they're worried the Sphinx would become caretaker in their absence.

In conclusion, I'd like to go back to the point of my original post. People like to joke about Seth being an idiot, someone who doesn't think things through, while seeing Warren as slightly devil-may-care but ultimately smooth and capable. I'm saying that there's no difference between the two in that respect, but Warren being an attractive adult makes us perceive him as more responsible.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Secret's Out

Summary: Request! Reid and Y/N are secretly dating, but their business doesn't stay their business for long.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence

Word Count: 2974

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :)

Sorry this took forever! It took me a while to think of case details that I liked and then I kept rewriting parts. I think I'm finally happy with it though!

Masterlist

"Spencer!" You pushed him away. "The doors could open at any moment! How are we supposed to keep this a secret if Morgan walks in on us kissing in the elevator?" You raised a brow at him.

"On average, elevators travel at a speed of 200 ft/min or about 4 seconds per floor. Being on the fifth floor means we have about 20 seconds to ourselves." He smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, until someone surprises us on floor 3." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the doors once they opened.

"I can't help it. I'm just... really happy with you." He whispered softly.

"I'm really happy too." You smiled at him. You were about to lean in when the elevator doors opened once again to reveal JJ and Emily.

"Hey guys, ready for another case?" Emily glanced between you suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask any prying questions.

"Yep, let's go!" You turned quickly, walking into the round table room without so much as a glance back at the three agents by the elevator.

"What's with her?" JJ questioned.

"Said she didn't sleep well last night. Must be all the caffeine." He held his own cup off coffee up in solidarity before also walking to the round table room.

"Alright, we've got 3 dead in Billings, Montana. All three were law enforcement, and all three were found this morning around the city." You listened as Penelope introduced the details of the case.

"Could be someone who feels the police didn't do a good enough job protecting a loved one?" You threw out a theory.

"Or someone who feels wronged by the criminal justice system as a whole." Rossi added on.

"Either way, they likely won't stop until we catch them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch rose from his seat as he spoke, wasting no time in preparing for take off.

You all dispersed briefly to grab your go bags, meeting back at the SUVs to head to the jet.

Once boarded, it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again.

"When we land, L/N go to the morgue. Dave, Prentiss take the first and second crime scenes, they're only a mile apart. Morgan and Reid, check out the third scene. I'll head to the precinct with JJ."

With Hotch's instructions set, you took what little time you had left on the flight to go over the causes of death.

-

"Anything stand out to you on the bodies?" You asked the ME after going over the blunt force trauma and bullet wounds.

"There's tape residue and bruising on the wrists and ankles. Based on the state of bruising, they were likely held for about 3 days before they were killed."

"Thank you for your help." You shook hands, pulling out your phone to call Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, they were held for days before they were killed. How did nobody notice they were missing?" There was nothing in the reports that indicated the victims were reported missing prior to being found.

"We just found the same pattern. They all used vacation days for various reasons in the days leading up to their deaths. Meet us back at the precinct and Reid can explain the whole pattern."

"Okay, I'm leaving now." You hung up just as you reached the SUV. Throughout the drive, you couldn't stop thinking that something wasn't adding up.

The victims were taken in the same day. It didn't make sense for the unsub not to escalate. So, why aren't any officers unaccounted for?

Suddenly, a truck crashed into your SUV, sending you flying off the road. A figure dressed in black opened the door and dragged you from the car.

"Agent L/N, it's so good to see you again." A male voice spoke, but you couldn't place it.

He hit you over the head with a handgun before dragging you to his own vehicle.

-

"Where's L/N?" Emily questioned when her and Rossi returned from the second dumpsite.

"On her way back from the ME." Hotch answered. "Did you find anything useful?"

"They truly are dumpsites. Both bodies were found by dumpsters, sending a pretty clear message." Dave replied.

"Same for the third site." Derek added on.

"All three victims were single and took time off leading up to their death. Nobody would've notice that they were missing until it was too late." Reid supplied the final bit of information gathered.

Hotch's phone rang before anyone else could comment. The frantic sound of Garcia's nails clicking against her keyboard echoed through the phone. She was talking before anyone could greet her.

"You need to see this, check your tablets."

Confused glances were exchanged as everyone, barring Reid, opened their tablets. Reid glanced over Morgan's shoulder to observe as well.

A seemingly live video that Garcia received a link to was streaming to the tablets.

A single woman sitting in a chair could be seen in the frame. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick, gray tape and a bag was over her head.

"Garcia, what is this?" Hotch asked almost immediately.

"I was emailed the link just now. It's not streaming anywhere else online." Her reply came quickly, the sound of typing still filling in the silence.

"Can you trace it?" Rossi questioned.

"I'm trying, but it's being routed through multiple proxy servers."

"Did the email say anything?" Emily chimed in.

"No, it was just the link- Wait. I just got another email." She paused as the new email loaded. "It's addressed to Reid."

Every set of eyes in the room turned to Reid.

"What does it say?" He felt the nerves beginning to grow waiting for Garcia to read the words aloud.

"Dr. Reid,

I hope you remember me. What am I saying, of course you do. I've got something of yours that you might want back. You see Dr. Reid, you and your team ruined me. My family, my career, all of it, just gone. I thought I'd return the favor. A person's phone can be so informative. Tell me, does your team know about your girlfriend? I've so enjoyed getting reacquainted with her.

Happy hunting."

Spencer's face went white as he looked at Morgan's tablet again. His thoughts were racing. How did he not recognize you before? Even with the bag over your head, he should've known it was you.

"It's her." His words were barely a whisper.

"This is your girlfriend?" Morgan gestured to the screen again. Spencer could only nod in reply, his mind unable to focus on anything except you.

"Reid, listen to me. You've got to tell us everything you know about her. We'll have to split up. You can go back to Quantico with Emily and Morgan, the rest of us will stay here to work on our current case." Hotch was already devising a strategy to work both cases.

"There's no need." His words made sense to him, but sounded cryptic to the rest of the team.

"Kid, of course there is. We'll help you get her back." Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively shocking him back to the present situation.

"There's no need to split up because she's here. She's in Montana." Before he could continue, everyone was asking questions.

"Give me a phone number and I'll get you a location." Garcia was already typing away again.

"Are you sure she's here?" JJ's brows furrowed. She did her best to hide the hurt of her best friend hiding his girlfriend from her, again.

"Why would she be here?" Rossi added.

"How did she get here? Maybe we can track the transportation and figure out means of abduction." Emily was the only one thinking about the case.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Spencer blurted out the truth.

"It's Y/N."

He was met with silence in the room as everyone absorbed the information.

Garcia caught up first, a sudden gasp sounding through the phone.

"So, then that's Y/N... in the video..." Her voice wavered.

As if a switch was flipped, the team was back on the case.

"Garcia, get me a list of anyone who would have a grievance with the team." Hotch ordered.

"Go through anyone who was falsely accused. Start with cases in or around Montana. He would want to keep this close to home." Rossi specified.

"We've only had one case in Montana since Y/N joined the team." Reid supplied the knowledge as it came to him. "A name, I need a name." He muttered to himself, pulling his hair as he roughly ran his hands through it and over his face. "Garcia, look into Jameson Braddock."

"Got it." She immediately began a background check, searching through case files and news articles for additional information. "i'll get back to you with locations." With that, she hung up.

"Fill us in, kid. Who is Jameson Braddock." Morgan lead Reid to a chair, gently easing him into it.

"Our last case in Montana, Emily and I went to interview a witness." Emily nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her.

"He wasn't very forthcoming, and then he tried to run." She added on.

"Exactly, except he didn't make it very fair. We arrested him, but it turned out he was only guilty of selling alcohol to minors. When word of his arrest got out, the whole town thought it was for the serial rapes and murders we were investigating even though it was never confirmed."

"By the time we corrected the media, it was too late." JJ supplied, also remembering the man.

"So, he killed three officers just to draw us out back out here?" Morgan refocused the conversation on the current case.

"It looks that way now. The media knew we were coming, so he must have as well." Emily theororized. "If he followed us from the airport, he would've seen Y/N leave by herself."

"He likely didn't know about your relationship until he abducted her and went through her phone." Hotch paced the room.

"He's flaunting his power over us." Rossi chimed in just as Hotch's phone rang again.

"Garcia, what've you got?"

"Three addresses in Billings, Montana. Jameson Braddock has been on a downward spiral since your last trip there. His entire life fell apart, like he said. Divorced, his wife moved to Nebraska with their two kids. He lost his job at the high school, and was evicted from his house when he could no longer pay the bills." She listed the information quickly.

"He has ties to three addresses. Nobody has moved into his previous house, so it's vacant. He's got a small apartment in the northern part of the city which he pays for through working odd hours at Taco Bell. Finally, he briefly worked security at a now abandoned warehouse."

"An apartment wouldn't be enough space to hold her without the chance of someone hearing. She's not there." Rossi eliminated the location as an option.

"We'll split up to cover the warehouse and the house-" Hotch began, but Reid cut him off.

"No, we shouldn't split up. She's got to be at the house. The warehouse has no connection to his previous life. He wants revenge for our perceived wrongdoing, he wouldn't make his last stand at a new location." Reid was already putting on a bullet proof vest. Despite how his mind was racing, he refused to show how afraid he was.

"You're sure?" Morgan asked, on the fence about committing to one location.

"Absolutely." With that, Reid was out the door heading for the SUVs.

-

"Rossi, Emily head around back. I'll take the front with Reid. JJ and Morgan, the side door." Hotch instructed the team to split up upon arrival at the house.

Reid wasted no time in approaching the house. He was confident you were inside, but he didn't know what was happening to you.

The main floor was cleared quickly. Again, the team split up to cover the upper level and the basement.

Knowing you were likely downstairs, Reid immediately started that direction, JJ and Hotch following him.

It wasn't hard for him to find you. You were still tied to the chair in the middle of the room, bag over your head.

Before anyone could stop him, Reid lowered his gun and ran to you. He gently maneuvered the bag off your head, stopping his movements only when he felt something press into his back.

"Dr. Reid. So kind of you to join us." Braddock spoke maniacally, pressing the gun against Reid's head.

"Drop your weapon." Hotch commanded, but the man only cackled in response.

'Y/N... Y/N." Reid gently shook you in an attempt to wake you up.

"She can't hear you." Braddock singsonged.

"What did you do?" Reid tried to turn to him only to feel the gun press further into his head.

"Like I said in my email, you people ruined my life. They took everything from me, so I thought I'd try to return the favor." During his short speech, Braddock shifted just enough for JJ to get a clean shot.

He fell to the ground, gun clattering across the floor.

Reid moved quickly to remove the tape binding you to the chair while Hotch called for a medic in the basement.

The entire team watched as you were wheeled into the ambulance, still unconscious, none more scared than Spencer.

-

"She's going to be fine, Spence." JJ tried to reassure him, nonetheless his pacing continued.

"You don't know that. We don't even know what he did to her." He had one hand anxiously running through his hair, the other pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Just then, a doctor emerged from behind closed doors.

"F/N L/N." She called into the waiting room, slightly taken aback when the group of agents rushed to her.

"It was touch and go for a while, but she got here just in time." It was visible to even the least qualified profiler how relieved the team felt. Their previously tense shoulders relaxed, frowns turned to small smiles, wide eyes and raised brows pinched together with joy.

"What happened?" Emily posed the question everyone was thinking.

"In short, she was drugged. It's not clear what exactly was used, but it was likely a mix of drugs that attempted to stop her heart."

"Can we see her?" Morgan spoke next, cautiously eyeing Reid.

"You may, follow me." The doctor lead them through a series of hallways to your room. "She should be waking up soon."

With that the doctor left, allowing the team to file into the room. You looked strangely peaceful for someone who almost died.

"So..." JJ glanced between you and Spencer. "Girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes went wide. Instinctively, he turned to you for help, but you were still asleep. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.

"Relax, kid." Morgan grinned. "We're happy as long as you two are happy."

Spencer smiled gratefully, looking at you with an adoring gaze. "We are happy."

"How long?' Emily gestured to your joined hands. Just before Spencer could answer, you groaned.

"I want to hear your guesses first." Your voice was raspy, but there was a clear smile on your face. "Also, what happened?"

The quickly explained the email Garcia received and the events that followed.

"Now that that's cleared up, do tell us how long you think we've been together. I know you've got a bet going." You narrowed your eyes, playfully glaring at each team member.

"4 months." Hotch begrudgingly admitted. JJ followed with 3 months, Derek and Rossi both betting 10 weeks, and Emily going with 6 weeks.

"Ha, you're all wrong." You smiled triumphantly, leaning closer to Spencer.

"Wait, we haven't heard from Garcia." Derek smirked as he rung her on speaker phone.

"Oh, my beautiful crime fighters. Y/N, are you okay?" Your smile widened at the concern in her voice.

"I am indeed, but I have a very important question for you." You glanced as Spencer briefly before continuing. "How long do you think Spence and I have been together?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Her excitement caught everyone but you off guard. "7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days."

Spencer's jaw dropped as he stuttered out, "that's exactly right..."

"How'd you figure it out?" The group of profilers wore matching expressions of surprise as Penelope explained.

"Well, we had just finished testifying in the Bigelow trial. The whole team went out for drinks, and I could just see it in Y/N's eyes the next day that something wonderful happened. At first I just thought that she got some, but then I saw her and the good doctor in the kitchen getting coffee and I knew." Penelope's voice held a mixture of smugness and pure excitement.

"Babygirl, you didn't tell me?" Derek sounded genuinely offended.

"Y/N asked me not to." Even though you couldn't see her, you knew she punctuated the statement with a shrug.

"You knew, she knew?" Spencer turned to you in shock.

You nodded. "I could see it on her face the second I walked out of the kitchen. But she promised not to tell, so I didn't either."

"The two of you, thick as thieves." Rossi lamented.

"I love you so much." Spencer whispered into your ear as he pulled you in for a hug.

"I love you too." You whispered right back.

"Honestly, I'm glad the secret's out." You smiled at Spencer before looking at the rest of the team. "Although, I wish I didn't have to be kidnapped to tell you."

You spent a few more hours in the hospital before being cleared to go back to the hotel.

The next morning, you smiled to yourself as you were finally able to cuddle with Spencer during the flight home.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [two] // wanda maximoff

summary: your crush begins to get more intense for Wanda, ensuing awkwardness between you both

warning/s: none

author's note: so glad you’re all liking this, here’s part two! 🥰

part one | part three | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

I knew it was a dream as soon as it began. Dreams never tricked me as I always detected something didn't feel right and figured out it wasn't real. But that was my only 'talent' with dreams, as everything else was left down to my subconscious. I couldn't control them, break away from the script or deviate from the scene in any way. I just knew when it wasn't real.

Admittedly, it took a little longer for me to recognise this one was a dream compared to others I'd had. It just seemed so normal as I headed into Chemistry class, seeing other students filing in and joining their partners. Mr. Hale was at the front of the class, occupied by his laptop and the projector, and it felt like any other day at school. The lights were off and the blinds were closed slightly, leaving the room in darkness except for the light from the board.

"Are we watching a film or something?" I asked Wanda as I set my bag on the desk beside her, earning her attention.

She looked up from her notepad and smiled widely, blue eyes sparkling in the darkness. "You're here, you took forever!"

"You saw me two lessons ago," I teased, taking a seat beside her.

She moved closer to me, hands immediately moving to my left one, playing with my fingers mindlessly. It felt right at the time, but I knew deep down that this wasn't real. In what world would this happen?

"Still," she mumbled adorably, before meeting my eyes. "We're watching some video about the periodic table."

I hummed, glancing at Mr. Hale as he struggled to pull up the video.

"Thank God because I couldn't be bothered doing work," Wanda added with a sigh, before moving closer to me, leaning on the palm of her hand as the other held mine still. "D'you think you can cover for me whilst I sneak in a nap?"

I stifled a laugh, moving closer and admiring the way her eyes changed colour in the light from the board. "I'm sure you're supposed to be paying attention."

She scrunched her nose, an uninterested smile on her lips, and it made my heart flutter.

"Fine, I'll cover for you," I gave in easily, before pressing a kiss to her nose.

She giggled quietly and when I pulled back, she leaned in and kissed my lips. Her free hand moved to the back of my neck as I rested mine on her lap, closing my eyes and falling into her without question. Okay, so yeah, definitely a dream, but I wasn't complaining.

"If Miss Maximoff and Miss Y/L/N can kindly stop making out, then we can begin the lesson," Mr. Hale announced, breaking Wanda and I's kiss.

Some of the class snickered as we separated from each other's hold, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He gave us a fed up look.

"Thank you," he said, before erupting into a speech about today's lesson.

When he started the video, I leaned forward on the desk to get comfortable and felt Wanda do the same, leaning her head on my arm and continuing to play with my hand. I smiled to myself, kissing the top of her head gently before getting comfortable. It all seemed too good to be true, but God was it a nice thought.

When I woke up the next morning with butterflies in my stomach, I groaned loudly. I knew I'd screwed myself over. I was in too deep. Dreaming about Wanda was not good, not good at all...

And it definitely didn't help when I showed up to class that same day, approaching my table and an already-seated Wanda. Just a dream, I told myself as I took a seat. Not real. And not a big deal.

"Good morning," she greeted when I sat down and pulled my books out. Her usual picture perfect smile was on her lips as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "How are you?"

Trying my best not to think about my dream, I gave her a small smile. "G-good, yeah."

Fuck me, why did I stutter?

"You sure? You seem distracted," she noticed, making me swallow hard and look away from her piercing gaze.

"Yeah," I managed to say without stuttering once again. "Just tired. What about you?"

"Same," she said with a breathy chuckle, her leg brushing mine under the table and making me freeze. She didn't seem to notice as she continued, "I stayed up late binge-watching Netflix. Probably the wrong choice, but here we are."

I bit my lip to contain a laugh, relaxing a little. It was just a dream. She wasn't that bad. I was fine!

Class started and Mr. Hale was explaining something about doing a practical experiment today, but if I'm being honest, I was barely listening. Stuck in a daydream, I was wiggling my pen in my right hand and staring at the display behind Mr. Hale's head mindlessly.

Suddenly, a warm hand rested on mine, pressing it to the table and stopping me from shaking my pen. I shit you not, my heart stopped when I saw Wanda smirking playfully at me.

"D'you mind?" she asked, clearly finding my wiggling pen distracting.

All I could think about was how soft and warm her hand was, and then I became aware of her bare leg still brushing against mine – she just had to wear a dress today, didn't she? – and then the fact that she was still staring at me with amusement dancing in her eyes. My dream from last night returned to mind as she was still yet to remove her hand and I was lucky I managed to find my words as I choked out a response.

"S-sorry," I said, frozen in place, yet again, by Wanda's presence.

She snickered, shaking her head at my dismay, before finally letting go of my hand. I licked my lips nervously and let go of my pen, but not quite finding the energy to move my hand. I could still feel the warmth of her hand lingering on mine and, oh God, this was getting worse by the second. Why did I have to have that stupid dream?!

Clearly distracted by my own stupidity, I failed to realise that Mr. Hale had let us begin with our experiment, whatever that may be as I wasn't listening. Wanda was nudging me slightly, bringing me back into reality, and said something about getting lab coats and goggles whilst I got the bunsen burner.

I watched her leave and massaged my head, telling myself to get my act together. I was not the stupid cliché of a girl who acted nervous around her crush. I was better than that, goddamn it.

After getting the bunsen burner, I hooked it up to the gas tap as Wanda returned with our lab coats and safety goggles. We both put them on before Wanda gave me a knowing look, humoured smile tugging at her lips. I was beginning to hate (love) that look.

"You totally weren't paying attention during that, were you?" she asked, but she definitely already knew the answer.

"'Course I was," I played it cool, before wandering over to the handout on our desk. "We're doing an experiment."

She chuckled as I distracted myself with reading the instructions.

"So it says the first instruction is to boil some water in a beaker," I said with a nod. "Seems easy enough. Just gotta get a beaker."

My mouth went dry when Wanda hunched down on the desk, reading the paper between us. I hoped she couldn't hear how fast my heart was beating in my chest.

"You think you can manage that one?" she teased, glancing up at me with that same playful smirk on her lips.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, similar to the one her twin possessed on a regular basis, and I'd never felt more stuck in place in my life than I did now. Without thinking, my gaze lowered to her lips and I realised then and there how badly I wanted to feel her lips against mine for real. She was so close I could move forward a mere few inches and feel it, but I didn't.

"Y-yeah, I'll get it now," I stumbled out, before literally stumbling over the stool as I made a move to leave.

I tried to ignore the way her gaze followed me and instead focused on getting to the beakers without passing out. To my relief, Y/BF/N was also collecting a beaker for him and his partner, too. When I stopped by his side, he looked up to see who it was, then smiled.

"You alright?" he asked, sensing my panic.

I shook my head frantically. "Definitely not. This is really bad, Y/BF/N."

Y/BF/N furrowed his brows, making me give him the look, to which he eventually followed what I meant.

"What happened?" he asked, trying (and failing) to hide his amusement.

I made sure nobody was nearby or could hear us before admitting, "I had a dream."

He raised his eyebrows suggestively, making me slap him on the arm quickly.

"Not that kind of dream, you perv," I clarified, before sighing. "But a dream. About you-know-who. And it threw me off and now I can't seem to act like a human."

He snorted as he tried not to laugh. I glared at him, shoving him again, making him laugh out loud.

"I'm sorry," he defended. "It's just– you've got it bad."

"Very helpful." I narrowed my eyes.

"Look, it's new which is why you're all awkward," he said knowingly, collecting his beaker. "It'll eventually pass when you get used to it. Until then, try not to do anything stupid."

"Too late," I mumbled under my breath.

He patted me reassuringly before leaving. I grabbed a beaker and turned around, deciding to take it easy. I'd get over it. I always did. I wasn't stupid. Yeah, I wasn't stupid. I had this!

But that thinking immediately went out the window when I approached our workspace and saw Wanda leaning on the desk, looking over the handout with thought. Her hair was pulled back for safety reasons, exposing her tensed jaw and pursed lips. She was wearing her lab coat over her black, knee-length dress and I'm not gonna lie, she looked extremely sexy today because she was wearing matching black knee-high boots. I gulped.

God help me.

—

You'd be relieved to know that my crush on Wanda died down after a while. Not in the way that I no longer had a crush on her – God knew I was overflowing with feelings for her – but in the way that I was getting a lot better at hiding it.

Which was perfect for when I saw her with her dick of a boyfriend. You'd be surprised how many times he kept popping up. And when he did, I always seemed to want to strangle him.

This time, I was working my new part-time job at a pizza place in town. Y/BF/N was keeping me company on my shift by taking extra long to finish his pizza so we could talk at the counter. I was drying some glasses as we spoke when the door to the parlour opened and the bell jingled, signalling new customers.

"I believe that's your cue," Y/BF/N teased, making me roll my eyes playfully.

My gaze wandered to the door where I saw a small group of teens walking in and finding a seat. It took me a second to realise that it was actually Wanda and her friends, including her boyfriend, who were looking for a table. My eyes widened with surprise as she looked around. Her eyes found mine and an excited smile appeared on her face as she waved to me.

"This just keeps getting better," Y/BF/N said when he saw Wanda heading our way, thankfully without her friends.

I pinched him before straightening up and plastering my best customer service smile on my lips. Wanda stopped before me, smiling between Y/BF/N and I.

"Hey, guys," she greeted brightly, to which Y/BF/N smiled in return, before looking my way and making my stomach flip at how pretty she looked today. "Y/N, I didn't know you worked here!"

"Yeah, it's kinda new," I answered coolly. "Gotta get that extra money, right?"

She nodded before grabbing the tip of my cap on my head and wiggling it, letting out a laugh. "You look adorable in your uniform, I must say."

I forgot how to breathe as she let go of my cap, her eyes still glittering with joy. Y/BF/N tried to hide his laughter as he sipped his drink, meanwhile I felt my neck heating up with embarrassment.

"Th-thanks," I got out nervously. I know what you're thinking – I said I got better at hiding my crush. And I have! I just– why did she have to put me on the spot like this?!

"I should get back," she said after a moment, pointing over her shoulder towards her friends. "But it was nice seeing you. Are you serving us?"

I nodded, regaining composure. "I'll be over in a minute. Give you chance to pick something."

"Awesome," she said sweetly, flashing me a final smile before heading back to her friends.

I released a shaky breath when she left, taking my cap off and massaging my head momentarily.

"I feel like she flirts with you just to see what happens," Y/BF/N said with amusement.

"It's just her personality," I mumbled, before putting my cap back on and taking a deep breath. "Time to work."

I continued to do my job as usual, thankfully not being affected by Wanda's presence, and took their orders. It was pretty uneventful as I served them their food and continued to hang with Y/BF/N by the counter. Every time I'd look over at her out of bad habit, I'd feel uneasy at the sight of Nate having his hands all over her. I mean, obviously he could – he was her boyfriend – but admittedly, I was a little jealous. I tried to ignore the feeling by busying myself with other things.

Wanda's friends were being a little noisier and rowdier than I'd liked, but it wasn't particularly busy so I saw no need to shut them up. Yeah, in hindsight, maybe I should have.

Clearing a table after some customers left, I balanced a tray of glasses in my hand and headed back to the counter. But on the way, a football came out of nowhere and got launched at my chest, making me drop the tray onto the floor with a loud crash. The rowdiness from Wanda's table ceased momentarily, as did the chatter from other customers, and I looked up to see Nate and his friends watching me, trying to suppress laughter.

"I am so sorry," Nate called with anything but guilt.

"Shit, Y/N, you okay?" Y/BF/N said, racing to my side in an instant.

I nodded, clenching my jaw, and bent down to clean up the mess. My boss must have heard the commotion as she came out from the kitchen and saw what happened, putting two and two together.

"Right, all of you out," she ordered without questioning anything, looking to Nate and the rest of the table. "We don't tolerate that tomfoolery here."

They groaned their complaints, but I didn't bother looking up to see, instead focusing on cleaning up the mess. Luckily for me, the tray took most of the hit rather than my chest, so unlike last time, I wasn't hurt.

"You're lucky I'm not charging you for the broken glasses, honey," my boss continued to scold Nate as he walked past, grabbing his football.

I saw feet shuffling past me, presuming it was their table leaving, and focused on picking up the large shards of glass and putting them on the tray. Y/BF/N helped out, even though he didn't need to, and I smiled at him as he knelt opposite me doing the same.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Wanda's voice grabbed my attention, making me look up. She had a guilty frown on her lips as she looked between the mess and I.

I stood up, shaking my head. "It's fine. It's–" But I stopped speaking, instead letting out an exhausted sigh. "No offence, but your boyfriend is a dick."

She pressed her lips together, not saying anything. I felt bad for saying it, but this was the second time he'd hit me with his stupid ball. It was true.

"I should clean this up," I mumbled, avoiding her eyes. "See you at school."

She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. I knelt down and continued to clean up, hoping she'd walk away already. This was awkward enough as it was.

"See you guys at school," she finally spoke, making me pause. "Sorry, again."

Y/BF/N bid her a goodbye before she left for good. I let out another sigh, deciding not to say anything as I continued cleaning up. It would never make sense to me why someone as lovely as Wanda would be with someone as obnoxious as Nate. I guess I'd never know.

—

Since that lovely incident at the pizza parlour, things had been a little distant between Wanda and I. Mostly on my part if I'm being honest. I couldn't help it – the whole situation had been uncomfortable and embarrassing, making it impossible to return to how we usually were.

This meant that Wanda was the one to come to me and check in, which I definitely wasn't expecting.

I was at home one afternoon, hanging with my older sister who was staying with us for a week. She'd moved out a year ago, getting her own place a few towns over, so I missed her presence a lot. I took advantage of her weekly visit by having a catch up as we played basketball in the front drive.

Disclaimer: none of us were good at basketball, but the hoop came with the house and it was simply tradition for us to attempt to shoot baskets as we had a catch up. Only, this time, as we were talking, a loud car engine pulled us from our chat and we both spun around to see an unfamiliar car parking up.

"That must be mum's customer," Y/S/N realised, holding the basketball underneath her arm. She glanced at me with a quirked brow. "You think we're gonna get roped into helping?"

"Most definitely," I answered with a chuckle, and just on cue, our mum opened the garage door behind us.

She was a florist and had a large pick-up delivery for a customer today. Apparently they were a good friend, so she had the flowers delivered to our house and they were waiting in our garage until now.

"Can you girls give me a hand?" she asked my sister and I, motioning for us to go to her. "I'm gonna say hi. Just start bringing the crates out, yeah?"

We both saluted playfully before watching her go to the customer's car. My jaw dropped when I saw who it was – Wanda's mum. And to top things off, Wanda and Pietro were both with her, the three of them getting out of their car and greeting my mum with smiles on their faces.

"You cool?" my sister asked, nudging me slightly.

I closed my mouth, straightening up. "Yeah, yeah, duh."

She gave me a funny look but grabbed a crate and began to leave it in the drive for the moment. I swallowed the lump in my throat and did the same, knowing both Wanda and Pietro were approaching us after my mum pointed them our way.

"Y/N, hey," Wanda said, stopping before my sister and I. She gave my sister a friendly smile before looking to me with nervous eyes. "It's good to see you."

I tried to say something – anything – but my words got stuck in my throat and all that came out was a weird noise. Partially because of the awkwardness between us at my fault and partially because of how pretty she looked in her sundress.

"Hi, I'm Y/S/N," my sister cut in, noticing my quietness. She gave me a sideways glance before looking to the twins. "It's Wanda and Pietro, right?"

"Yeah," Wanda said with a smile, eyes lingering on mine before looking to my sister. "We're just helping our mum out to load the car."

"I'm the muscle," Pietro joked, lifting his bicep, making Wanda roll her eyes jokingly.

"Okay, muscle, you can come help me get these out the garage," my sister played along before looking to Wanda and I. "You guys okay to load the car?"

Wanda nodded. "Sure thing."

Y/S/N grabbed Pietro, who shot me a friendly smile, before leaving Wanda and I alone.

"Your sister seems nice," Wanda tried to make conversation as we both grabbed a crate and took it to the back of her mum's car.

"Yeah," I agreed uncomfortably. "She's just visiting."

Wanda hummed in acknowledgment, neither of us knowing what else to say. We walked past our chatting mothers before setting the crates in the back of her mum's car.

"Are we okay?" Wanda asked suddenly, as soon as our hands were free. I looked to her and saw she was debating something internally before looking to me. "I mean, I know we're okay, but I just– I feel like you've been off since, well... since Nate threw that ball at you."

My neck heated up with embarrassment as I cleared my throat; my eyes fell to the flowers in the crates.

"I really am sorry," she apologised again, resting a hand on my forearm, sending shivers up my spine. "He can be such a jerk sometimes. Does stuff without thinking."

"You don't need to apologise," I said, finally lifting my eyes to meet her anxious green ones. And I meant it – Nate's idiocy wasn't her fault and it was harsh of me to make her seem like it was. I sighed, knowing my distant behaviour would end here. "We're good, Wanda."

She still seemed uncertain. "You sure?"

I gave her my best smile, hoping she knew I meant it. "I'm sure."

Her tense shoulders relaxed and a relieved smile spread across her face. "Okay, good. I'm glad."

She held my gaze and I just knew my heart was beating too fast to be useful as she did. She was just so beautiful.

"You know, the whole point of splitting into teams was to be done quicker," Pietro's voice interrupted our staring contest.

He stepped between us, glancing between us with amusement, before setting a crate in the back of the car.

"Right, yeah, we were just on our way back," I said, smiling sheepishly.

Pietro smirked. "No harm no foul, princess."

I was taken aback slightly as he called me that, and even more taken aback when he plucked a flower from the crate and offered it my way.

"For you," he said, half joking and half serious.

Unsure what to say, I accepted the flower. "Er, thanks... I think."

Wanda crossed her arms behind him, eyes narrowed in his direction. I wondered what she was thinking, but never got the chance to ask as their mum's voice called out to us.

"Pietro, I paid to use the bouquets," she said with mild distress, "not so you could ruin them."

His cheeks flushed as he called back, "Sorry!"

I tried not to laugh as the three of us headed back to get the rest of the crates, being sure to set the flower to the side. We ended up filling her car with the bouquets before facing our parents as we bid them a goodbye.

"They're lovely, Y/M/N," Wanda's mum was complimenting the flowers. "Thank you again."

My mum patted her back. "Anytime, dear." She looked between the twins and my sister and I. "Thank you all for helping out."

Y/S/N and I smiled her way as Wanda's mum nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, thank you!" she added, looking to Y/S/N and I. "It's so great to see you all together. Especially you two, Wanda and Y/N. It's nice to know you're good friends after so long of barely speaking."

Wanda's face was beginning to turn pink as I'm sure mine was doing the same.

"Yes, I agree," my mum said with a smile. "Anyway, we won't keep you any longer. Good luck with the banquet!"

Wanda and Pietro waved goodbye to Y/S/N and I before joining their mum in the car. I followed her figure subconsciously, butterflies floating in my stomach until their car was gone.

"Damn, I really missed a lot," Y/S/N said when they were gone, wrapping an arm over my shoulder and tugging me closer. "You're crushing hard."

Instantly, I looked to her. "What? What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes, letting go of me. "So we're playing that game. Okay. I'll bite."

As she began to walk away, I chased after her. "What game? Y/S/N? What are you talking about?"

She merely laughed and allowed me to chase her, wondering how the hell she knew of my crush on Wanda. Was I that obvious?

[maplecornia]

chapter 34

𝔞/𝔫: this chapter will be in 3rd person POV

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.45K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @pixiekooo | @cana

When was the moment he realized things were broken?

Driving down the dark streets, his hand clenches on the wheel of the car. Memories of past smiles, foreign whispers of love, someone's hand holding his while he couldn't feel more alone...

Maybe he always knew.

Maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself.

Pausing in front of a stop sign, he looks over as his phone buzzes, a message popping up on the screen. He doesn't bother looking at it, he knows it's not going to say what he wants it to say.

Watching the blinking lights at an empty street, he considers running it. There's nobody else around. No one would even notice. Even if he somehow did get in an accident would it matter? At this point is there anyone left who cares? Once the light changes green, the thoughts disappear as though they had never existed in the first place.

Jimin, you knew this would happen eventually.

You made this game.

"Yen, what's your secret?"

How is she able to smile so brightly? He sees the darkness in her eyes, he sees the way she disappears into herself, he sees the struggle inside her as she fights to be happy every day.

So why? How is she so strong?

Why can't I be that strong?

Jimin thought he would be able to forget everything. He thought it wouldn't matter. All he wanted was someone to be beside him. All he wanted was to not feel alone. He didn't think that having someone beside him, knowing that they didn't love him, knowing that they were using him for everything else but love...

He didn't think it would make him feel cold, almost isolated.

And yet, he still doesn't want to let go.

When his phone buzzes once more, he looks over at the passenger seat, not paying attention to the road. He doesn't notice as he comes across another intersection. He doesn't notice the crosswalk, nor the woman who is crossing. He’s too focused on the name that flashes on his screen. Debating in his strangled min whether or not to answer.

When he reaches her, just a few feet away, may it be fate or destiny he turns away from the phone just in time to see the woman. Adrenaline pumping violently through his body, his eyes widen as she turns, hearing the roar of the engine and the screech of the tires. Instinct taking over his body, Jimin slams his foot on the brake, the car managing to squeal to a stop, just a few inches away from the frozen woman. In the few moments it takes for him to register her face, he's able to discern one thing.

Bright luminescent green eyes.

In the silence that follows, Jimin breathes heavily, looking over his wheel almost hesitantly. He doesn't know if he hit her, all he's aware of is that she can no longer be seen through the windshield. Fear erupting in his nerves in waves, he frantically unbuckles with shaking fingers, opening the door and dashing to the front of the car. The buzzing phone now forgotten.

He pauses for a moment taking in the scene.

The good news is that he didn't hit her.

The bad news is Jimin quite possibly terrorized her beyond reality.

She’s fallen to the ground, bags of groceries scattered around her, her eyes wide and her entire body shaking. Her hands wrap around the gravel on the ground as she shivers, her lips moving as tears start to appear at her eyes, but no sound can be heard. Jimin notices the scratches her knees have endured from the fall, the way dark smudges of pavement have mixed with the tears on her cheeks, and the small drops of blood dripping from her hands so brutally ripping through the pieces of gravel and dirt.

Sighing, he kneels beside her, trying to gather her attention. It proves to be quite difficult considering the way her eyes are locked on the headlights of the car just a few inches away from her. She shivers as she contemplates how she could have died just a few moments ago and finds the thought far too horrifying to comprehend. Fear paralyzing her like a virus, Jimin has to take her by the shoulders to gather her attention.

And there they are again. Brilliant green eyes, golden flecks scattered within her irises. They meet his deep cinnamon ones, a spark reflected between the two of them. A spark only the heavens could have seen.

"Are you okay?"

Once Jimin speaks, in a soft hushed tone, the woman breaks out of her reverie. Her eyes well up in unspoken terror, and she starts to shake even more violently at the sight of someone next to her comforting her.

Why is it when we are at our most vulnerable, we find ourselves breaking when there is someone there to hold us?

Noticing her shivers, he removes his jacket and places it across her shoulders, trying desperately not to falter at the sight of panic in her eyes.

"It's okay, I'm here."

.

.

.

"Yes, I know I'm late but I'll be there soon."

Needless to say, Jimin finally figured out how to answer his phone.

He paces a few feet away from where he left the shivering woman, his heart clenching and unclenching in distress. When did it become such a chore to talk to her? When did he start regretting every moment spent with her?

Half listening to the pressed voice on the other line, he glances at the woman who pulls his coat tighter around her body, her face pale and eyes darting around in frantic panic. At the sight, his heart tightens in pain and he struggles to shove down his guilt.

It doesn't help matters when he hears the words on the other side of the line.

"What?"

As though he were stuck in a lucid dream he tries not to let the disappointment eat at him. It's not a big deal that she ate without him, after all, he was running quite late...

Why does it bother him so much?

Why does the thought make him feel alone?

Oh, I don't know Jimin, maybe it's the fact that she used you.

Again.

Your money, your love, your dedication, your time.

It was all a waste after all.

"No, it's fine. We'll see each other another time."

Jimin clenches his jaw at the sound of a male voice addressing her on the other line. Suspiciously close, dangerously close. Jimin doesn't bother asking who it is. He already knows the real reason. Taking a deep breath, he tries his hardest not to give in to the tears.

God, you're pathetic aren't you?

"Okay. I have to go now, but I'll see you soon."

No, you won't.

"I lo--"

The line cuts off before he can finish his sentence, and Jimin would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. He holds the phone up for another moment as though waiting for a phantom to whisper the words he so longs to hear. Biting his bottom lip when it's clear they won't come, he pockets his phone and turns back to the woman on the bench.

Would she treat him the same?

If she were in this situation, what would she do?

Jimin knows these are desperate, ridiculous questions to ponder, but he can't help himself. He's too lost, too broken to wonder anything else. Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he walks towards her, settling onto the bench seat beside her. He knows she overheard the conversation, he knows that every time he looked at her she glanced away as though being caught in a trap.

At this moment, however, he finds it very hard to care.

"Was that my fault?"

At the question, Jimin smiles almost bitterly.

"No, it was mine." He leans his head back, sighing as he stares at the dark sky. "I should've expected it."

At the nearly dejected statement, the woman can't help but look at him with concern. She recognizes the look in his eyes. The dark swirling pit of nothing. She's seen it reflected in her own. She hesitates before speaking once more.

"If you need somewhere to be, I'll be fine." Jimin looks her way incredulously, at the glance, she smiles nervously finding it hard to meet his eyes. "I can wait for a bus on my own--"

When she glances back his way, she doesn't expect him to be so close.

His face nearly inches away from hers, she could almost swear that her heart stopped for a fraction of a second from the shock. It's not a normal occurrence to have a nearly perfect man inches away from you.

But then again, what part of this situation is normal in her eyes anyway?

Oh God, all I wanted was to get some groceries.

Jimin stares at her with an unreadable gaze, his piercing eyes staring deep into hers. Perhaps it's an attempt to see into her soul, to find some part of her character reflected within him. There has to be a reason she looks so familiar, some form of explanation for why he feels as though he's known her all his life.

Why is it so comfortable to be around her?

"What is your name?"

The woman looks up at him with wide eyes, the iridescent green nearly blinding Jimin of all reason.

"Jocelynn."

Sliding his hand on the back of the bench as he leans closer to her, she avoids his eyes. Inwardly she prays that he doesn't hear her heartbeat increasing every second he is close to her.

"Jocelynn." At the sound of her name on his tongue, her stomach turns in on itself. Looking back at him she is surprised to find that his gaze has never strayed from hers. "You know that when it's this late, it's not smart to be on your own right?"

His voice is deep and husky, drawn to a near whisper that is hardly distinctive but manages to move every possible emotion present in her heart. Raising an eyebrow, Jocelynn tilts her head slightly.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You were alone."

If she expected him to be flustered, she couldn't have been more wrong. Instead, his eyes darken once more and he smiles half to himself.

"Maybe I don't want to be alone."

Another second, maybe Jimin would have leaned further. Another second and maybe he would have placed his lips on hers. Another second and perhaps he would have been able to forget just how empty he was, as long as he was holding another in his arms.

But when he sees the sad conjecture hidden within her eyes, he can't bring himself to use her in that way. For some unknown reason, he finds that he can't hurt her even if it means he'll feel whole.

Coming to his senses, he pulls away. The same space that was between them a few moments ago, opening once more. He leans forward resting his arms on his legs, his hands clenched tightly together, his heart playing games with his mind.

She's just a stranger, someone he met by some strange coincidence of the skies.

And yet, he can't bear to see that look in her eyes.

"You never told me your name."

Jimin turns to Jocelynn, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

"You don't know me?" he murmurs, obviously surprised, and probably wondering if she's lying. Jocelynn in turn rolls her eyes at the assumption that anyone would be oblivious to who he was, and Jimin can't help but feel amused.

"So what if I do? It's polite to introduce yourself to strangers you nearly run over." Jocelynn responds, her eyes glinting mischievously and Jimin can't help it.

He laughs.

Jocelynn smiles at the sight, almost proud that she was able to leech that out of him. After a moment, Jimin turns to her and extends his hand her way.

"My name is Jimin." When she doesn’t take it right away, he raises his eyebrow at her. In turn, she rolls her eyes before intertwining her hand with his and shaking it. Jimin can't help but think that her hand is soft, comforting, almost made to fit with his. Inwardly, he chastises himself for thinking that way.

When will he remember that fate and destiny don't exist?

Hasn't he been taught that enough?

"It's nice to meet you Jimin."

When she says his name, it's almost as though some invisible bind around his heart has been released. He's able to breathe for the first time, he's able to forget everything he's been harboring deep inside. Almost as though a simple utterance of his name on her tongue has set him free.

"I'm sorry I ruined your date." Jocelynn apologizes before pulling away, and Jimin considers scrambling to hold her hand tightly within his own. In order to refrain himself, he scratches the back of his neck as he shakes his head.

"It's not your fault, don't worry." He reassures her, and she bows her head, smiling to herself. Sighing, Jimin looks back up at the stars, finding it fascinating the way they can shine so bright from so far away. "If I'm being honest it was probably ruined before I met you."

"Do you mind saying why?" At the thought of showing her that vulnerable side of himself, he can feel the darkness start to taint the inner corners of his heart.

Why is it so frightening to reveal one's weakness?

Smiling almost bitterly, he avoids her eyes as he answers her.

"Have you ever had a relationship where you know you're being used, but you stay in it because you're afraid of being alone?"

Jocelynn flinches at the description, being reminded of a time way back where she had exactly that. Painful memories she had thought she had since buried ever since he was removed from her life. Moments she thought she had left behind the moment she promised she would move on.

"That's my relationship." Jimin continues, Jocelynn listening quietly beside him. "I mean it started nice enough. The usual honeymoon phase. She was sweet and funny. To top it off she was just drop-dead gorgeous, I thought I hit the gold mine. The luckiest guy in the world."

Though he doesn't look her way and she doesn't make a move to comfort him, somehow her presence beside him makes things easier for him. He doesn't feel as though someone is violating his memories, he doesn't feel as though she were a stranger. On the contrary, he feels as though this were a normal thing, as though he had been confiding in her all his life.

"Until I saw that she was only happy when she was taking from me. She used me for money, sex, love..."

It was all a lie.

Even now, Jimin can't bear to utter the words, instead they hang over his head. Unspoken but the reality hitting him like a grenade.

"Yeah, she was sweet all right. Like poison."

He laughs bitterly, shaking his head at himself. He never knew self-deprecation could hurt this much. Slowly building up each day until he threatens to break.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I don't even know you."

It's strange, he can't even confide in his friends. He doesn't even feel as though he's able to talk to Tae like he used to, why is it so easy for him to talk to Jocelynn? A person whom he met on a chance encounter, someone whom he didn't even know the name of until just a couple of seconds ago. They are little more than strangers, so how is this so easy?

At the question, Jocelynn smiles to herself, remembering something she had heard once before. From a mere child, and yet it was a child who was the first person to teach her she was never truly alone.

"Sometimes it's easier to talk to those you don't know. They don't have room to judge, they don't know what you did wrong or where you messed up. You may never see them again, so what harm is there in talking to them? That way you don't have to deal with the baggage following you around."

Jimin looks at her with surprise and finds that her gaze is far away. Those green eyes that are so calm and serene are now filled with unspoken tears and sparkling gems of pain.

"I'm not going to say some crappy thing like 'why don't you just leave' or 'she's toxic just drop her' because I know how hard that really is." She takes a deep breath to steady her nerves before continuing. "However, I know what it's like to be used and endure pain because you don't want to be alone. So I will say something to help you make up your mind."

When she meets his delicate tawny eyes with her tender green ones, he finds himself struck speechless. She looks at him almost as though she were afraid he'd break. As though he needed a shield to protect him at all costs and she would be willing to be that shield.

Since when was it Jimin who needed protecting?

"You deserve better."

"What?"

Jimin seems shocked, almost baffled at the notion. Jocelynn smiles almost bitterly to herself. Is that what she looked like when she was told the same thing? Was it so hard to believe that someone like her could deserve to be happy?

"No matter what you may tell yourself, you deserve love. You deserve to be loved. No matter what you think you may have done or how scared you are of being alone, you deserve to have someone reciprocate the love you give to them." Jocelynn holds her hands tightly together as she speaks, an attempt to refrain herself from reaching over and taking his within hers. Though she longs to give him some sort of comfort, she has to keep her distance. "From the way you're describing it...this relationship doesn't sound like it's love."

The silence that blossoms between them is one not easily broken. It's a silence filled with unspoken emotions, late realizations, and hard-won ignorance crumbling. When Jimin looks at her, he admires the way her face shines in the moonlight, her hair that tumbles down around her shoulders, the way she exuberates calm serenity that never thought he'd find.

Almost as if she were an angel sent for him.

When the bus pulls up in front of the two of them, Jimin finds that he doesn't want her to be a stranger. He doesn't want her to leave. He wants her to be around him, he wants her to know his burden. And above all...

He doesn't want to hide anymore.

"Just...think about it okay?" Jocelynn stands, sliding the jacket Jimin gave her not but a few moments ago off her shoulders and offering it up to him. "Here."

He sits there for a stunned moment, staring up at her and the jacket. Within his mind, he makes a quick decision, one that he sincerely hopes he doesn't regret.

Standing, he pushes the coat back to her and smiles.

"Keep it." He murmurs as her emerald eyes widen, a soft rosy hue threatening to erupt on her cheeks. Smiling to herself, she nods, holding the jacket close to her chest, before stepping back toward the bus.

"Thank you." She whispers back, turning on her heel and boarding the bus.

Leaving Jimin alone.

As the doors close, and the familiar hiss exuberates from the vehicle as it pulls away, Jimin stands there. He watches Jocelynn walk down the aisle, before settling into a seat beside a window. She presses her cheek against the cool glass before turning back to the jacket she holds in her hands. Jimin sees as she smiles to herself before holding it close to her heart, her face buried deep within the fabric.

He doesn't notice the grin on his face as he witnesses the pink blush on her cheeks, and the wide smile on her face as she pulls away. Her eyes sparkle with a joy he's only seen on TV screens, and in the back of his mind, he wonders if it's possible to keep that smile to himself. He wonders if she'd be willing to stay by him forever.

Then the bus is gone, she's gone, and he's left in the dust of forgotten memories and broken tears.

"No..." He murmurs, a smile playing at the memory of her green eyes.

"Thank you."

note: NEW CHARACTER ALERT!!! This character has a lot of background to do with Yen, which will be revealed later. I really like this chapter and enjoyed writing in a different POV for different characters. I think this is a nice view into Jimin's side of the story and hopefully we can expand on it soon. Anyways! Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed!

chapter 35 here

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