#turning 29 this year and lots of my life has felt so wasted man

[werewolf-kat]

Wow, tons of job recruiters are plain stupid, huh?

I love filtering for ONLY Entry-level jobs, just to see tons of Senior and Manager level jobs get included anyways. Like forcing all job levels in your job listing is some "ideal" way to get it out to more people. But people seeking below that level wouldn't want to apply anyways?!

What's the point? What's wrong with you people? You're literally just making job hunting online more tedious and a waste of time than it should be. Because I have to keep scrolling past entire PAGES of your Senior-level listings when my filter is specifically meant to keep those out.

Screw you.

[bakugostiddies]

Please god do a villain!au with Todoroki 🧎‍♂️ I usually don't like those but omfg with him it would totally work

Absolutely. This turned into a 4k word fic, but I am too attracted to this man to be ashamed.

Icarus | Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: eventual smut, temperature play, impact play, kind of dub-con but not really, degradation, praise, villain!au, corruption kink, no gendered terms but reader has a vagina and breasts.

NSFW | 18+

You had fucked up.

The room was dark and dank, eerily quiet save for the sound of your breathing. You looked around frantically, struggling to break loose from the bonds that held you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

As your eyes adjusted, you noted that there was a door ahead of you, a steel one with two deadbolt locks. You could feel a metal chair beneath you, rattling each time you moved even slightly. Your arms and legs were restrained by some sort of extremely strong fabric, but your mouth was unrestricted. Shit. Shit. What was Endeavor going to say? You were still just his sidekick, but this was your first big operation and you blew it completely. He would kill you when you got back, you just knew it. Endeavor took his temper out on you even when you did well, which meant you had no clue what he would do to you after a fuckup this bad. Shit.

Calm down, Y/N, you told yourself mentally. You were safe and unharmed, so maybe they just wanted information. You attempted to activate your teleportation quirk, but it didn’t work. What happened? You could feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate. You didn’t want to die here, after being kidnapped by some asshole who wouldn’t even fight you face to face.

“If you’re wondering why you can’t use your quirk, we just took it away for a while.”

A voice emerged from the shadows of the room, soft and almost velvety. You flinched. You hadn’t even realized someone was here. How could you have missed something so obvious? You felt like a shitty fucking hero.

“Who are you?” You said after a moment.

“Im surprised you didn’t recognize me. Well, I suppose it is a bit dark in here.”

And suddenly with the flick of a match, the voice became a man and the shadows around the room came to life. You swallowed harshly, all of the moisture in your mouth gone. The man stalked towards you with a sureness of a predator and stopped a few feet away from where you were sat in the metal chair. You looked up at his two toned hair, his strong, rugged figure in the flickering light. He wore a suit not too different from that of a hero’s, but he was tinged with scorch marks and small icy spikes. He looked like he was made of fire.

“Well?” He said it softly, but there was a hint of malice in his tone. “Who am I?”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, your body almost paralyzed with fear. You knew who he was, of course you did. He was the one who helped blew up that building on the case you were on a month ago. He was the one who ambushed those (kind of sleazy) businessmen on their way to a cartel. He was the one who’s name was whispered in fear and awe on the nations’ streets. He was standing right in front of you, looking… bored?

The man sighed and fiddled with his match. “Hurry it up, hero, I don’t have all day.”

You spoke almost inaudibly. “You’re Icarus.”

He smiled slightly and a chill ran down your spine.

“See? That wasn’t too hard.”

He moved a bit closer to you and leaned down, his heterochromatic eyes almost level with your own. A single gloved hand moved to touch your chin with his thumb and index finger, moving your head from side to side with a feather-light touch. You hoped he couldn’t feel how scared you were, how your body seethed and rejected his very presence.

He finally released your face and you let out a sigh of relief. Icarus removed a single glove and touched his fingers gently to the match. It went out without smoke or a flicker, just a gentle hiss of frozen silence. The room was dark again, and he was moving, knocking on one of the walls.

“Turn on the lights, Red Riot.”

Your eyes widened. Red Riot? Wasn’t he the pro-hero who became a villain after Dynamight? Holy shit, was Dynamight here? Icarus interrupted your train of thought as the lights flickered on almost menacingly. You noted your surroundings carefully, seeing a bed in the corner, a small table, and another chair. The room looked less like a prison and more like a shitty motel suite.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He sat down in a chair across from you, leaning forward with his arms on his thighs and his legs spread slightly.

“I don’t know, Icarus.”

“Heres a hint; it has something to do with your boss.”

“Endeavor?”

You could feel bile rushing up your throat but you swallowed it down. The man before you clenched his jaw rigidly, as if it pained him to hear the name, but returned to normal so quickly you might have imagined it.

“You’re a bright one. Yes, hero, the very same. And do you have any idea on what he’s planning to do, say, sometime in the next six months?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

His tone was harsher now and he got out of his chair, moving closer to you again. You felt so small under his scrutiny, yet drawn to him like a moth to a flame, like Icarus himself to the sun.

“You see, I’m the only reason you’re alive. And if you want to keep your pretty little head-“ he circled around behind you- “you will listen to what I say.” His voice was barely a whisper in your ear, and your voice hitched in your throat.

“Do you understand?” He asked, straightening up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir.”

This was so goddamn humiliating, like your first day working with Endeavor all over again. With him, it was always a yes, sir, no, sir, please don’t make me work weekends, sir. But you swallowed your pride again and spat it out.

“Yes… sir.”

“A hero that obeys commands, what a find,” he said tauntingly. “But you could stand to lose that attitude.”

You wanted to slap him, to beat him up to the point of him being bruised and bloody and broken and then have him call you sir instead. God, if only you could teleport out of these fucking restraints-

“You’re thinking about using your quirk, correct?” It was like the asshole could read your mind.

“You can’t. Aizawa Sensei took yours away. You know him as Eraser-head.”

Fuck, Eraser-head was here too? All of the biggest villains were gathered here together and you- you could do nothing.

“So I’ll ask you again. What are Endeavor’s plans?”

At that moment, you made yourself a promise; that you would not let Icarus win. Little did you know that you would break that promise a thousand times over.

———-

Two days later:

———-

“Did Endeavor tell you about the attacks?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come on now, you can tell me. I won’t hurt you.”

“...”

“Still no response? No matter, I have time to get it out of you.”

———-

Seven days later:

———-

“Still not talking, hero?

Look at that, the silent treatment.

I never thought an adult could be so petty. Just tell me where I can get more information.

Nothing?

Okay. Eat your soup, I can’t have you dying on me before you start talking.

And hero? You will have to open your mouth sooner or later.”

————

16 days later:

————

“Cut the bullshit, hero. We know he has plans for a big attack sometime during the next six months, so either Deku is wrong, or you are lying to my face. And Deku’s never wrong.”

“Well, I guess he’s wrong this time.”

“Then I guess we’ll return you since this has all just been one big mishap.”

“Really?”

“No. You aren’t the smartest, are you?”

“Maybe my brain will somehow recall something about this totally real attack you think is happening if you give me better food?”

“Don't be a brat, hero. I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if I had known you would be so inconvenient.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

————

20 days later:

————

“Thanks for the bread, sir. It's quite an upgrade for a kidnapped person’s shitty meal.”

“You have low standards, hero.”

“Hey, why do you call me that?”

“What, hero?”

“Yeah. I have a name, you know. It's-“

“I know what your name is.”

“Okay, Jeez. If you knew it, then why not use it? Plus, I’m not even a hero yet. I’m still technically just a shitty sidekick who’s totally blown it on my first solo mission. I’m never going to be a pro at this rate, I might as well just give up.”

“I think you’re good.”

“What?”

“I said, you’re powerful and good at using your quirk. You have a lot of assets and it’s a shame your talent is wasted on Endeavor and the fools at the pro-hero agencies. It was difficult to actually catch you off guard, to get past your guards, to make sure your quirk was out of commission. And we are very strong.”

“Oh. Um, thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t thank me, hero. I’m just stating the obvious.”

————

25 days later:

————

“Why is your name Icarus?”

“It's not my real name.”

“Well no shit, dude. I'm asking why you chose it.”

“Icarus was a boy who followed his father’s instructions perfectly, but the moment he strayed from the path set out for him, he was punished, scalded by the flames of the sun, and cast away. But I think it was worth it for him in the end.”

“Why?”

“Because he was free. Because Icarus flew, and he was able to be his own person, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Do you feel like Icarus?”

“Most of the time I do, yes.”

“Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think that right now, you’re flying or cast away?”

“At this very moment, I think I am flying.”

“You know what? I think so too.”

————

29 days later:

————

“So what’s your real name, sir?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?”

“Classified. Also, I don’t need you to know my name.”

“But you know mine!”

“That's because you’re a prisoner, in case you’ve forgotten. You are almost unnervingly at ease here.”

“I’ve met three people so far and you have all given me no reason to fear.”

“Really? Not even Dynamight?”

“His hair makes me laugh. Plus, I can’t take airheads with overinflated egos seriously.”

“I agree with that assessment wholeheartedly.”

“You agree with my assessment- Sir, you sound like an old man.”

“I’m only three years older than you, you know.”

“Really? But you have all of these wrinkles?”

“I do not have wrinkles.”

“Fine, frown lines then.”

“That makes it sound like I don’t smile.”

“Well, you don’t!”

“It’s hard to find things to smile about.”

“God, you’re such an Edgelord.”

“What do you mean by that? hero, stop laughing.”

“You are definitely an old man.”

————

30 days later:

————

There had been a new development a couple of days ago in the kidnapping situation. You could feel your quirk again, which meant a lot of things. It meant you weren’t here against your will anymore, that you were free to go. Yet you remained. You still stayed in the same room with Icarus checking in on you in the afternoons. However, it had been given furniture- a desk and more comfortable chairs, a small rug on the floor, and thicker blankets. It was almost like you weren’t even a prisoner anymore. You could always leave, you reasoned. You could teleport out of here. Your quirk was back, and yet you stayed.

The other villains had taken a liking to you for reasons beyond your comprehension, but all it meant was that you were never short on company. Dynamight would burst in to complain about how Deku always got the best missions, Red Riot would bring in a deck of cards and the two of you would play go fish or bluff, even Deku would occasionally check up on you and make sure you were comfortable. But your afternoons? They were always set aside for your favorite visitor- Icarus.

...

“You haven’t answered my question about your name yet.”

You were sitting on the cot in your almost room, feet dangling off the edge and swinging back and forth. Icarus was sitting on his chair again, but lazily, with his arms locked behind his head and his legs precariously balanced against the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t answered any of my questions since you got here, so I don’t believe you have a right to complain.”

He was right, of course. He always was. But technically, he was equally at fault in this case. He was the one who sucked at interrogation, so much so that you took pity on his colleagues. They would have to deal with his lack of results.

You weren’t complaining, however. You enjoyed talking to him, looking at him, being in his presence. It was a stupid crush to have, but you didn’t care. He was beautiful to look at, the way his biceps curled behind his head, the lean toughness of his body, the sheer strength he possessed. Your eyes trailed down his sprawling figure, tracing each indent and dip and curve of his skin in your mind.

“Are you finished staring at me?” His words jerked you out of your stupor and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I-I wasn’t- I didn’t-“ you babbled until he stopped you.

“Don’t worry, it’s only natural to find me… appealing. You haven’t spent time with anyone else for a very long time.”

You almost screamed on the spot, burying your face in your hands. You peeked out between your splayed fingers to look at him, seemingly unbothered save for the slight pink tinge hidden beneath his bangs.

“How can you say things like that, sir?”

“Like what?”

“Uhm, never mind.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you up whole. He was so, so dense, it was a wonder he even noticed you basically eye-fucking him. You felt the cot creak beside you and a slight dip in the weight. Icarus had seated himself beside you on the small bed and was looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“I did not mean to shame you for your gaze, hero.”

He said it gently and kindly. It would be almost romantic if not for the situation you were in. You remained silent, so he continued.

“I believe it is normal for you to feel this way towards someone who has been in such close quarters with you for so long a time. You should be glad that you still have these urges.”

You suppressed a groan. This felt like having the sex talk with your parents all over again. “Sir-“

“-in fact, everyone feels them!”

He was rambling, oh god you needed him to shut up-

“I feel them for you all the time, and I’m completely normal.”

And suddenly, the air changed between you into something charged and heated.

“You… have urges around me?” You wanted to hear him say it again, just once, but he turned away from you, tensing up and rising from his seat awkwardly. His face was stony and his hair covered his eyes like bicolored curtains. There suddenly was space between the two of you, some insurmountable gap that could not be bridged.

“I apologize deeply. I have misspoken.”

“Sir, wait, you don’t have to leave!” You cried out as he made his way to the door.

“But I do. You don’t deserve this treatment, and it is cruel of me to hurt you in this manner.”

And that was when something broke within you, something that had been holding you together this whole time.

“No.”

He turned around, almost scared by the anger in your voice.

“This is when you decide to stop? You have literally kidnapped me, interrogated me, left me in all but isolation, for a fucking month. You took me from everything that I wanted and everyone that I love and yet, and YET, I wanted you. Goddamn it, I still want you. I don’t understand why. So don’t apologize to me for misleading me or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve decided to use as a sheild. Apologize for everything you have done to me, you fucking cunt.”

And then your voice broke and you could feel the tears rushing to your eyes, your vision turning glassy as your chest heaved with sobs. You could feel yourself slipping away, your breaths growing shallow and your body shaking. Why did you stay here? Why didn’t you leave when you could? What was the point, if Icarus didn’t even want you?

And then, suddenly, you felt warm.

Icarus, sir, whoever the fuck he was, was holding you tightly in his arms, head dipped down into the crook of your neck, his arms enveloping you in his warmth. He was your sun. And he could scorch you again and again but you would still be drawn to him.

Your panic died down and you wept for the first time since you arrived. The two of you sank down to the floor, his apologies muttered swiftly and quietly against your skin. You were in his lap now, your body curled up into a ball in his embrace, one of his palms cupping your face. He turned you slightly towards him.

His eyes were wet too, but only slightly, and his fingers were thumbing at the tears on your cheeks. One of them got close to the corner of your mouth and slowly but surely, with almost childlike fascination, he pushed the tip of it in. Your tongue ran along the edges of it, the salty taste leaving you wanting more.

And slowly, Icarus leaned forward, his lovely face the closest you had ever been to him. He removed his finger from your mouth and kissed you instead, gently, and then all at once.

It was a furious kiss, on that burned and heated a cold room. You could feel teeth and tongue and hot tears, a clashing finale of a kiss. It was against your lips that he murmured his name.

“My name is Todoroki Shouto.”

He said it softly, leaving your lips to place open-mouthed kisses on your neck that left you moaning and had wetness pooling between your legs. But suddenly, your eyes snapped open.

“Todoroki? As in-“

He kissed you again to silence as you felt the questions racing through your head. Endeavor was Todoroki Enji, right? But he had never mentioned having kids to you? Was Shouto lying to you? Why did he want to destroy his father? And how were you-

“Shh.” Shouto tapped his forehead to yours. “Let me take care of you.”

Fuck it. The questions could wait.

Shouto reached down to pull off your shirt and groaned at the sight of you. He looked at you in wonder.

“You- hero, you make me feel like I’m on fire.” He said it with such sincerity that you nearly cried again were it not for his palming of your breasts, his burning fingertips tweaking your nipples and making you whimper slightly.

“I am so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I put you through-“ you were placed on the bed- “I’m sorry for taking you away-“ He was kneeling, fucking kneeling, between your legs- “but most of all-“ fuck, he placed hot kisses on your stomach as he pulled your pants down-

“I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to do this sooner.”

And with that, his tongue was lapping at you through your panties, new ones that the villains had provided for you, with reckless abandon. Your hands tugged at his hair and you heard his hum of a chuckle as a vibration on your pussy. There was pressure, so much pressure from him against you, like nothing you had felt before, and when he finally pushed your panties aside, they were soaking wet.

Shouto looked up at you for a moment, meeting your gaze with his own, eyes sparkling with desire. And then, without a word, He pressed a small kiss to your clit that had you jolt slightly before he dove in. He had you moaning within seconds, his tongue lapping at your folds before swirling around your clit. You felt yourself reaching a climax- it was too good and too fast and too much and- Shouto pushed a finger inside you and crooked it slightly and you began humping your hips upwards as he nursed at your clit. Your climax was swift and powerful, but he didn’t move throughout it. Even as you came down from your high, his mouth planted on you and his finger gently pumped in and out. Shouto added one more easily, and you swore you saw stars when he began thrusting. He fucked you with his fingers, marveling at your reactions, the sounds you made, your pussy pulling him in.

“Fuck, hero, you’re so wet. Is this all for me? Have you gotten off to me fucking you like this in this bed?”

You moaned loudly and Shouto removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. There was a dark look in his eyes that you remembered from the first day you arrived.

“Answer me, hero.”

You nodded your head slightly, but that wasn’t enough for him. He rose to his feet and without warning, he smacked your clit. You squealed loudly from the stimulation, the pain turning into pleasure quickly. His palm was cold as ice, and you squirmed dumbly against his touch.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, yes, sir, I’ve thought about you fucking me everywhere in this room-“

Shouto’s palm reverted back to his normal temperature and you sighed with relief as he cupped your pussy and rubbed it gently.

“What a good, slutty, hero. Have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

You blushed slightly and hid your face behind your hands. God, this was embarrassing. Of course you had gotten off to the thought of him, but to say it out loud was a different feeling altogether.

You took too long and Shouto spanked your clit again. You let out a shriek and tried to wriggle away from him, but he just pulled you closer.

“I want to see your face, doll.” You whimpered at the new pet name. “Now, have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

“Y-yes sir-”

“Y-yes s-sir-‘ so shy for someone who wants a villain to fuck your hero pussy into behaving.” he palmed himself over his trousers, letting out a little huff of pleasure. “I want to, shit, want to fucking ruin you.”

Shouto pulled you to him as your hips thrust desperately against the air.

“Yes sir! Want you to fuck me, want you inside me-“

He groaned and humped into you, the metal of his belt buckle catching against your clit and making you flinch with overstimulation. Shouto noticed and pulled you closer as he stood at the side of the bed, your back flat against the mattress and your hips arched upwards to meet his bulge. He rutted into you again, forcing your pussy to kiss the metal of the buckle once more. You felt your body seizing up, your orgasm building inside you, and Shouto, with a sadistic gleam in his eyes, pressed his buckle harder against you.

The longer it stayed there, the more it heated up, almost more pain than pleasure, until Shouto wrapped your legs around his waist and thrust against you. There was a wet patch on his pants and you kept shrinking away from the burning hot metal that teased at your clit.

“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell-” He managed to spit out, “I’m not even inside you and you’re dripping all over me like a bitch in heat-”

He continued to hump you roughly, each time more forceful than the last until you came loudly as Shouto pushed your body into the belt buckle. “No more, Shouto, please, no more- its too much-”

“Too much for you already, hero? I haven’t even come yet. And you- how many times have you reached your climax today?”

You almost screamed with frustration- how were you supposed to know, you didn't fucking keep track-

“I can tell you, brat.” He grabbed your waist and flipped you easily onto your stomach. You were completely exposed to him now, unable to see his face, out of control entirely.

“You have come three fucking times. That doesn’t feel very fair to me, does it? Do you want my cum inside you?”

You buried your face into your pillow, and he pushed down slightly on your lower back, creating an arch. You startled when he teased his cockhead against the surface of your pussy, wetness coating his dick.

“Shouto, I want your cum-”

His palm came down hard on your asscheek, forcing a gasp out of you as he rubbed it softly with his palms. He leaned closer towards you, his voice whispering in your ear.

“Then beg.”

And, with your voice muffled by the pillow, you followed his orders.

“Sir, fuck me, please, please- I need you inside me, I need you to cum for me, please- Shouto, Daddy-“

Your begging got cut off by him thrusting into you. You screamed and he shushed you gently, holding your hand with his own. “Do you think you can take the rest of it?”

The rest of it? There was more? You looked over your shoulder and nearly passed out. You had barely taken half of his length and you were already completely filled up. But… you wanted to feel him, all of him, so you muttered a soft “yes.”

“Okay, baby, take it easy…” he eased a couple more inches into you before you tightened up, your pussy clenching and back arching as he slid in. “Oh fuck,” Shouto groaned. “Do that one more time and I won’t be able to hold back.”

And of course, you grinned. And proceeded to clench yourself around his length again.

Shouto nearly growled. “I warned you, hero.”

And then, he thrust into you. Hard. And he kept going, pumping in and out of your body like a machine, his thumb rubbing against your clit and his other hand on your leg. You are screaming and crying and babbling on about how good his cock is, how good you felt, how this is what you wanted. And Shouto? The cocky bastard was gloating.

“Look at you, such a good slut on my cock. Are you crying? God, thats so fucking hot. I’ve got a cute little hero crying on my dick. I know you can use your quirk now, Hero, I know Aizawa sensei returned it to you. Did you stay because you wanted me to fuck you like this? Did you want to be corrupted?”

“Yes,” you’re almost incoherent, “yes, ruin me, make me a villain, I wanna be a villain!”

Shouto slows his pace for a moment. “You would leave Endeavor? Leave the agency?”

“Yes, I would, Shouto, fuck, anything for you-”

He slapped the inside of your thigh before resuming his pace again. You had never felt so full before, his dick reaching places within you that you didn’t even know existed. His palms gripped the sides of your hips so tightly you thought you might bruise, tiny burn marks already forming in the place of his fingertips. You were close, so close, your tears and drool spilling over your pillow and your body limp and helpless before him. Shouto felt you clenching around him, completely spent.

“Do you want to cum again? What a greedy pussy you have, hero, a needy little cumdump.”

You couldnt get words out, croaking out your mumbled yeses and nodding your head vigorously. He pounded even harder into you and reached around your thighs to your clit, rubbing it in tiny circles as he fucked you. You could feel your climax building for the fourth time and you twitched pathetically beneath him. Finally, Shouto pinched your clit slightly and you came with a wail of his name.

He fucked you through your orgasm, but he was slower now, his strokes hitting you deeper than before.

“Do, fuck- do you want me to cum in your pretty pussy?”

Shouto was hunched over you, his head resting on your back and his arms caging you in so that he was all that surrounded you. His breath came out in cold pants and his thrusts got more and more erratic as he neared his own climax.

“Please, I need you to want this, I need you- shit, I...” You could hear the desperation in his voice, how he yearned for you, and you the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Yes, Daddy! Want you to come inside, fucking breed me-”

“Oh fuck, Y/n-”

And then Shouto came with a groan, his cum splattering your insides with warmth. He pressed kisses to your spine, trailing his fingers down your arms as he turned you to the side. He didn’t pull out of you as he did so, causing you to groan slightly. Finally, he released you and gently removed his dick from where you were connected. Some of his cum oozed out and he pushed it back in with his fingers, trapping his seed within you forever.

The pair of you laid together side by side for a moment, Shouto’s fingers tracing your body with slow, lingering touches as if he was afraid you would shatter the moment he pressed too hard.

You were the one who broke the silence. “ You said my real name.”

“I did. I love your name, Y/n. It just felt... wrong to say it when you were my prisoner. It was easier to distance myself from you if I just thought of you as a random hero. But you’re more than that now.”

You stared straight into his eyes, your hands reaching up to run gently through his silky hair. “I’m not leaving, Shouto. I’m never leaving this place. And I’m not just staying for you- I like it here. The villains like me, and they respect me. You aren’t bad people- if anything, the rest of the world has been far worse than anything or anyone I’ve faced here. It feels like I’m finally home.”

Shouto gathered you into his arms and pressed you tightly to his side. “You will be mine now,” he said almost matter-of-factly.

“And you will be mine as well.” You planted a small kiss to his nose that made his eyelids flutter and a slight blush crawl onto his cheeks.

“You deserve the world, Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “And I am not even close to being good enough for you.”

Shouto’s eyes were downcast and you could see the doubt creeping in. You gently pressed your fingers to his furrowed brows and soothed the wrinkles away. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He asked.

“Put yourself down. You are more than enough for me. And Shouto? I don’t need the world. I already reached my sun.”

He smiled at you then, with no underlying malice, no undertone of darkness. It was blinding. Goddamn it, you would do anything to see that smile for the rest of your life.

“That was terribly cheesy, Y/n.”

“Shut up, Shouto.”

He kissed you, and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering up a storm. Todoroki Shouto was your sun, and you were his. And even if you both melted away under your flames, it would have been worth the loss.

-Bonus-

2 weeks later:

“So, uhm, Y/n, Todoroki, we were reviewing the footage from Y/n’s old room the other day. While we’re all happy you two are *ahem* together now, maybe you can display your... appreciation for one another in a more private place?” Kirishima was blushing profusely and refused to meet your eyes. Suddenly, it clicked for you.

“WE WERE BEING RECORDED?”

“And?”

“SHOUTO!”

“Ah yes, how horrible and violating, I feel as though I have been exposed indecently without my permission for the perverted public to see. They will be unable to contain themselves when faced with my immeasurably sexy figure.”

“You are NOT being helpful.”

“I beg to differ, Y/n. Kirishima, is there any way you can send me a copy of the tape-”

-----------

A/N: I hope you like this and please let me know if I should do a villain!UA series because I only write under the influence of peer pressure. 

[thisbeatchachinglikemoney]

Danger

Part 12 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS

Summary: Yoonkook make up and the search for Y/N is underway (this one will just be from the members point of view)

Warnings: Self harm, suicidal thoughts, Jungkook is in quite a dark place

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18​, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles, @aclowe13​​

AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys! 

Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

It had been a few days since Y/N had been taken and Jungkook had not come out of his room. Not even to eat. It was worrying Jin that his youngest boyfriend had shut himself off from everyone. Jin was actually reaching his limit. His baby needed to come out soon or else he would break down the door.

Namjoon was right - they all needed to stick together. It would make the whole ordeal a lot easier to go through with as they had each other to lean on. Y/N had no one which was something Jin was worried about. Yoongi had told them all about the conversation he had had with Y/N after Jackson had found her at Disneyland, and Jin was worried. They all were. The police had been informed of the possible intentions and Y/N’s case was a top priority. They had people working on it day and night.

Jin sighed as he knocked on Jungkook’s door. “Kookie, please, let me in.” He begged. “Hyung needs to talk to you. To know you are okay. Please baby. Please.” There was still no answer. If Jin pressed his ear to the door and listened hard enough, he was able to hear soft sobs. He was scared for Jungkook. The boy had been close to self-harming a few years ago, and he didn’t want that to happen again.

He remembered when they found out. It was the second year of their relationship and Jungkook, who was usually the cuddly fluffball of the group, was withdrawn and quiet, often speeding up to his room and locking the door whenever they came back from dance practices and recordings. Yoongi had been telling them that something felt off, but whenever they confronted the maknae about it, he would dismiss it as not feeling well, or would even go as far as to ignore them completely. 

It had gotten to the point where Yoongi insisted that they get inside Jungkook’s room and adjoining bathroom. The night they did that, using Namjoon to break down the door after Jungkook would not open, they discovered Jungkook stood with a razor blade hovered above his wrist. Yoongi had wasted no time and had knocked the razor out of his hand, bundling the younger up in his arms and whisking him away to talk. Yoongi was always the best at this, being experienced himself in the matter of depression. Yoongi still had his bad days, but he would spend them curled up next to either Hoseok or Jin while he voiced his feelings to the whole group.

And Jin was now feeling that exact same feeling. He needed to get to Jungkook. He needed to know he was okay. “Jungkook, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to have to break it down myself.” There was still no answer.

Jin was terrified. What if the maknae had cut too deep and had been bleeding out in the bathroom for the past few hours? What if he had tried to kill himself and been injured badly? What if he had killed himself?

“Joon!” Jin called out for the younger member as he ran to the man’s studio, banging on the door. Namjoon opened the door, looking both hopeful and scared.

“Have they found her? Is she alive?” Jin felt his heart break at the look on Namjoon’s face.

“Oh, Joonie, no, I’m sorry. They haven’t found her yet.” He said, pulling the younger into a hug. “But it’s Kook. I’m worried about him. I’m getting the same feeling I did before. I’m scared Joon. I can’t lose two of them.”

“What do you need me to do?”

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

Taehyung was curled up in Hoseok’s side, tear tracks running down his sleep-swollen cheeks. Every single night, he had cried himself to sleep for the loss of Y/N, as well as Yoongi and Jungkook, and it broke Hoseok’s heart at how hurt they all were. He wanted to kill Jackson for putting them all through this. The police were in the process of locating him - they were getting in touch with the tracking company to request the location of the phone, but it was taking longer than wanted as the company was not open on the weekend. This had made Bang PD-nim start to look into other tracking companies that were open 24/7 just in case this happened again, which Hoseok prayed it didn’t.

He glanced over at the clock and saw it was almost time for dinner. Taehyung had completely lost his appetite, so Hoseok had been forcing him to eat to keep himself healthy. They had all been forcing themselves to eat, apart from Jungkook who had locked his bedroom door and was not coming out at all. 

He rubbed a hand over Tae’s back gently, a faint smile ghosting over his lips when he felt his hand tighten on his shirt, the longer fingers twisting the fabric.

“Tae baby, you need to wake up. We need to go and eat.” Hoseok said softly, making Taehyung whine and nestle into him.

“No Hobi hyung, I’m not hungry.” He said, his deep voice scratchy and slurred.

“I know, baby, but we have to. We need to keep healthy. It’s what Y/N would want.” Hoseok reminded him. Taehyung shook his head.

“I’m not hungry! I don’t want to eat! I just want Y/N back!” Taehyung cried. Hoseok sighed sympathetically and pulled the younger on top of him, wrapping his arms around his back.

“I know, baby, I know. So do I. But if we aren’t healthy, we could be in hospital when they find her, okay? She wouldn’t want us to hurt ourselves.” Hoseok said softly. “So let’s go down and have some ramen and then we can come back here and cuddle okay?”

“Can we see if Jungkookie wants to come eat with us?” Taehyung looked at his hyung. Hoseok nodded and stroked his cheek gently.

“Of course we can.” He kissed Tae’s forehead. “Come on, let’s go.”

----------

Jimin pushed open Yoongi’s bedroom door with his foot, his hands carrying two bowls of rice and kimchi. Yoongi hadn’t been doing too well; the pain of losing Y/N as well as the guilt of hurting Jungkook had not settled with him at all and continuously made him feel worse as the days dragged on. Jimin hoped that it would be over soon.

“Hyung, I’ve got us some food.” Jimin said softly, setting the bowls down on the bedside table before climbing onto the bed. Yoongi hummed and pulled the younger onto his lap. “How are you feeling?” He asked, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek.

“Not good.” Yoongi replied. “I feel awful, actually. I just wish Jungkookie would let me talk to him. That’s one thing I can fix.” Jimin nodded and grabbed the bowls.

“It’s okay, hyung. It will all be okay.” The smaller boy comforted him before lifting some rice to his hyung’s mouth. “Now eat something, please.”

“I’m really not hungry, Jiminie.” Yoongi said, glancing at the chopsticks in front of him.

“I know, but Hobi hyung said we need to eat to stay healthy because that’s what Y/N would want.” Jimin said, holding the chopsticks in front of his mouth. “Just a few mouthfuls, please, I don’t want you to get ill.”

“Fine.” Yoongi opened his mouth and allowed Jimin to feed him. “You know, I should be the one taking care of you because I’m older.”

“But you’re my boyfriend and I love you.” Jimin reminded him. “So I’m allowed to take care of you.”

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi asked, taking the bowl out of Jimin’s hands and putting his hands on his waist. Jimin stilled. He hadn’t admitted how he was feeling just yet. Not even to himself. He had pushed his feelings down so he could take care of Yoongi.

“I...” Jimin trailed off, making Yoongi narrow his eyes at him. “I don’t know...”

“Okay, Jiminie. That’s okay. You’re probably feeling so many things that you can’t distinguish between each one.” Yoongi said. He reached over and took some rice out of the bowl with the chopsticks. “Your turn.” Jimin opened his mouth and ate the rice.

“Hyung? Why don’t you go and see if Jungkookie will talk to you? Jin hyung said he hadn’t left his room in ages. I’m scared for him.” Jimin said after swallowing his mouthful of rice. 

“I can try, baby. After we finish eating I’ll try and talk to him, okay?” Yoongi stroked Jimin’s hair out of his face. “You eat too, little one.”

“I’m only one centimetre shorter than you, Min Yoongi!” Jimin playfully hit Yoongi’s arm.

“Yeah but you’re still my little one since you’re younger than me and everything about you is tiny and cute.” Yoongi said taking Jimin’s smaller hands in his.

“My dick isn’t small, hyung!” Jimin whined. Yoongi hummed and kissed Jimin’s forehead.

“Yes, but it is smaller than everyone else.” Yoongi pointed out. “But I love each and every part of you.” He leaned up and pecked Jimin on the lips. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

“I love you.” Jimin grabbed his bowl and began to eat. “I miss Y/N, though. I’m worried for her.”

“I miss her too.” Yoongi replied, a frown on his face. “I want to kill him for taking her. I need her back with me.”

“She needs to be back with all of us. I don’t even want to think about what’s happening to her. She must be in so much pain.” Jimin set down his bowl. 

“But the police are finding their location as soon as they can and as soon as that has been found, we will have Y/N back with us.” Yoongi said. Jimin knew that he was seeing the positive side of things, and trying not to think of the worst-case scenario. 

“Okay, I’m going to go and talk to Jungkook.” Yoongi finished his rice and set the bowl aside. “Why don’t you go and have a shower? I’ll be back soon.”

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

Everything felt grey to Jungkook. Just grey. One of the seven lights of his life were gone and the others had dimmed to nothing, leaving everything murky shades of grey. He was wearing one of his tshirts that Y/N would always wear for bed. It smelt like her and that helped the aching hole inside of me, but it did nothing for the endless amounts of guilt he felt.

This was all his fault. If only he had gone home with her, then she would still be with them. He was stupid and not worthy of being her soulmate. 

His door had been locked since she had been taken and every so often one of his hyungs would knock and beg him to open. But he couldn’t let them in. He didn’t want to be met with their disappointed faces. He probably wouldn’t be able to ever face them again. 

He stretched his arms, ignoring the pain that lanced from his wrists and the growling of his empty stomach. He looked down at his forearms and saw his bandages had become bloody. Time to change them. The cuts would only fuel his hyungs disappointment in him if they found out. 

He shuffled into the bathroom, avoiding his image in the mirror, knowing that he looked awful with an unshaved face and unwashed hair. He unwrapped the bandages and rinsed his arms under the water to wash off the blood. 

Cut more You deserve it You deserve this pain It’s all your fault

Ever since Y/N had been taken the voices had come back and Jungkook had succumbed to what they were telling him to do. He looked at his arms, the red lines criss-crossing the lengths of his forearms, slashing through some of his tattoos.

That’s it Jungkook Let yourself feel what Y/N is feeling Your hyungs are so disappointed in you You should just end it all now

Jungkook’s fingers wrapped around the bloodied razor he had been using. He slashed it over his wrists again.

Go deeper Jungkook Deep enough to kill But not yet You still have to suffer

Jungkook pressed harder, his skin splitting apart and blood running out, streaming down his arms. He sobbed to himself, the neverending pressure of the guilt weighing down on him, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe. He slammed his hands onto the sink, leaving bloodied handprints and smears on the white porcelain before staggering over to his room and collapsing on the bed, letting him exhaustion wash over him. He hadn’t cut deep enough to kill himself. He had to suffer more first.

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

Yoongi could feel something was wrong. Very wrong. Wrong enough to make his stomach churn and his heart pound faster. He sat up quickly, accidentally waking up Jimin who hummed and looked around sleepily.

“Go back to sleep, Min.” Yoongi said softly. “I’ll be back soon. I’m just going to check on Jungkook.” He kissed Jimin softly and gently pushed him down so he was lying down. Jimin hummed and closed his eyes, a hand clutching at the blankets surrounding him. He smiled at the younger boy before slipping out the room and making his way over to Jungkook’s room.

When he got there, he saw Jin and Namjoon attempting to break down the door. Yoongi looked at the pair of them with an eyebrow raised.

“He’s been in there too long, Yoongs. This ends now. He needs to know that we all love him and want him around and that we don’t blame him. He needs to know that you don’t blame him.” Jin said, stepping back as Namjoon rammed his shoulder into the door, a loud bang echoing through the house. Namjoon hissed but ignored the apparent pain as he continued to bang into the door. There was a loud crack and the door swung open.

“Oh God!” Jin screamed, hands covering his mouth. Yoongi’s heart stopped. No. Not Jungkook too. He couldn’t lose both of them.

He pushed Jin out of the way and was met with the sight of blood. So much blood. Jungkook was lying on his bed, eyes closed. Yoongi watched closely hoping and praying to see the rise and fall of his chest. He saw Jungkook breathe and it was steady.

“Joon, take Jin hyung somewhere else. I’ve got this.” Yoongi said, rubbing Namjoon’s shoulder. The younger looked hesitant but led Jin away. Yoongi took a deep breath and entered the room. There was a lot of blood, covering the bedsheets and Kookie’s arms. There were smears on the wall in the shapes of fingers and hands, where he had clearly dragged himself to bed. Yoongi felt his heart break. Not his Kookie. His happy bunny.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I am so so sorry.” He said, stroking the youngest’s hair before going into the bathroom to get some warm water and disinfectant and bandages. They needed to be careful with Jungkook now. He gently reached out and took hold of Jungkook’s hand, straightening out his arm so he could clean away all the blood and germs. He dipped one of the towels into the water and squeezed it before wiping it over the maknae’s arms.

“Oh, Kookie.” He sighed, seeing the numerous cuts that were still healing - some being scabbed over, but others still open. He sprayed some disinfectant over his arms and wrapped bandages around them. “I’m so sorry, baby. Hyung is so sorry.” Yoongi felt awful. If only he hadn’t yelled at Jungkook then this would not have happened.

He quickly cleaned up the room before collapsing on the bed next to the younger boy. “I love you so much, Jeon Jungkook.” He whispered before closing his eyes and pulling the younger closer to him. He kissed his forehead before allowing himself to fall asleep next to the maknae.

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

When Jungkook woke up he could feel arms around his waist which was strange considering he had locked his door. He frowned as he opened his eyes, looking around his room to figure out what was going on. His arms had been bandaged and cleaned which he didn’t remember doing, and his door was open. He paused. They must have knocked down the door.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the sleeping face and faded blond hair of his hyung, Yoongi. He gulped. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Not now, and if he got his way, not ever. He should just run away from them and never return. Then he would never have to face them for what he has done. 

He pushed himself out of Yoongi’s arms and walked over to his wardrobe, throwing his clothes into some bags.

“What do you think you’re doing, mister?” He heard a sleepy yet stern voice ask from behind him. 

“Noth-nothing?” Jungkook winced as his voice rose in pitch at the end, making it sound like he wasn’t sure about what he was saying.

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like you’re packing a bag of clothes.” Yoongi sat up in the bed, the sheets rustling. “Now put it down and come here.” Jungkook paused and reluctantly set down the bag before shuffling over to the bed and perching on the end.

“Look, hyung, I know it’s all my fault, can you please just leave me alone.” Jungkook said, but Yoongi ignored him and pulled him closer by his waist, being wary of his injured arms.

“Just listen to me, Koo, please.” Koo. He hadn’t been called that since Y/N had been taken. He felt a pang in his heart as he sniffled. He sighed and wiped his eyes as he looked at his hyung. Yoongi’s eyes softened as he reached out and wiped a stray tear from Jungkook’s cheek. 

“I am so sorry I said that to you. I should never have said that. I was just angry and upset and I know that this is not a good excuse, but I just took it out on you. It’s not your fault. You were looking out for her and called someone to bring her home. How would you know that Sejin would have been intercepted and his phone stolen?”

Jungkook pursed his lips. He could hear what Yoongi was saying to him, but it wasn’t sinking in. He didn’t feel any less guilty. “But I should have gone home with her! I should have walked her to the car and made sure that it was actually Sejin. We all know how many people are out there to hurt us and I let my guard down, thinking that for one day there wouldn’t be hate or someone that wanted to hurt her, and look what happened!”

“Jungkook, stop, please!” Yoongi pulled the younger onto his lap, so Jungkook was facing him, legs either side of his hyung’s lap. “Stop beating yourself up about this. This is not your fault. It will never be your fault. None of us blame you. So, please, stop blaming yourself.”

“But-” Jungkook was quietened by Yoongi pressing a finger to his lips.

“So just stop blaming yourself. No buts, okay? We all love you, so much, and we were so worried when you didn’t come out of your room for days.” Yoongi gently lifted up Jungkook’s arm. “And now we know that this is one of the reasons for your hiding...” He trailed off, looking pointedly at the bandages on Jungkook’s arms.

“I’m sorry, hyung, I just, I needed to.” Jungkook sobbed.

“Hey, don’t cry, baby, please don’t cry.” Yoongi’s voice cracked as he pulled Jungkook into his chest. “We’ve got you. We’re always going to be here for you, okay? We can talk to you, be there for you, give you all of the cuddles in the world. Just please, don’t hurt yourself again. It’s dangerous and it could kill you, Koo.”

“That’s what I wanted.” Jungkook whispered.

“Shit, Kook.” Yoongi froze and stiffened. “No, no, no, baby, no.” He held onto Jungkook’s jaw, his thumb stroking gently. “Just talk to us, don’t lock yourself away. We’re going to help you through this, okay? It’s all going to be okay.”

“But I’m not okay, hyung. And I don’t think I ever will be until she’s back with us.” Jungkook had tears running down his cheeks. Yoongi did too. 

“Neither am I, baby. But if we stick together, we should be alright.” Yoongi said. “I love you, so much, Jeon Jungkook. I hope you know that.”

“I love you more, Min Yoongi.” Jungkook leaned his forehead against Yoongi’s.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s possible, baby boy.” Yoongi kissed his lips. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you.” Jungkook said, resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“You’re welcome, little prince.” Yoongi kissed his forehead. They cuddled for a while before Jimin. burst into the room.

“Hyung, they found her!”

[skellebonez]

You like soulmate aus? 44 with a soulmate au where there are countdown timers for important events and if you concentrate you can see the lifespan of your romantic and platonic soulmates except immortals. MK realizes he can see Red Son's life countdown and he only has 1 year left

ANON I WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS WAS THE SADDEST PROMPT I HAVE EVER BEEN GIVEN AND I HAD TO TAKE IT OUT OF THE WAIT LIST TO FILL IT ASAP. Just. Damn. You came for my heart and crushed it. @kitkat1003 you helped make this sadder so I wanna make sure you see this.

WARNING: I mean, look at the prompt. It's gonna be a depressing read regardless. Read the tags for a major spoiler if you want to know about the end in advance.

The Lunar New Year special is mentioned in passing but NO SPOILERS.

Why are you still awake?

MK never made it a point to concentrate and look at his soulmate timers unless he really felt he had to, tempting as it may have been. Especially not their life countdown timers. The colors one saw differed from from viewer to viewer, some people even saw only one color in varying shades, and no one knew why the colors were chosen the way they were for each individual. But to MK the timers were a whole swath of colors.

It was easy with Mei, her platonic bond with his allowing him to see the bright green (green for all platonic bonds, not just Mei) countdowns to major events (some bad but usually good, like a major race being announced or taking part in a game tournament spontaneously). The familial blue bond he had with Pigsy and Tang went much the same, as well as Sandy's own platonic bond. He didn't learn that immortal beings had their own color, brilliant gold tinted in whatever the proper bond was until he met Sun Wukong, his gold-green timer slowly changing into a gold-blue bond of family found.

It wasn't until Red Son that MK realized his romantic bonds were a brilliant red (which, in retrospect, could have been seen as funny), shining brilliant and bright and almost blinding him when he caught sight of him properly from far above him (and it nearly made him fall before Wukong forced him to, the traitor). He'd mistaken it for some kind of antagonistic bond before he learned that that was also a type of platonic soulmate. So that was something he shoved deep deep deeeeeep down inside to think about later, especially since a lot of people now a days rarely went after their first romantic soulmate and instead waited for a platonic to change in time.

He never told anyone.

It also wasn't until he tested concentrating on timers with Wukong, for fun and out of sheer curiosity if he really was super immortal, that he realized that immortal's life countdown timer just looked like a mass of rapidly changing numbers screaming in confusion and he decided to never do that again.

Until... the Lunar New Year celebration.

He was curious, scared, and Red Son was there and he let his curiosity get the better of him. He wanted to see if Red was still immortal and if his timer did the same thing.

361 days, 17 hours, 8 minutes, and 42 seconds.

That couldn't have been right.

He tried again.

361 days, 17 hours, 7 minutes, and 30 seconds.

And again.

361 days, 16 hours, 56 minutes, and 45 seconds.

And one last time, after everything was over.

361 days, 12 hours, 1 minute, 29 seconds.

Red Son... had less than a year left to live. Red Son, The Boy Sage Prince, the one who almost defeated Sun Wukong on his journey and eternal thorn in his side... was going to die.

MK hadn't ever really imagined that he could die. He had believed that Red Son was immortal, and maybe he still was. There were ways to kill immortals who weren't all powerful Monkey Kings. But he'd always imagined that, maybe, eventually, they could possibly at least work things out and get to know each other eventually after what happened with WBS.

Now he was plagued with the thought 'what if I'm the one who kills him' and he couldn't handle that so he made up his mind then and there and before Red Son could leave he grabbed him by his jacket collar in front of everyone and changed that thought to 'fuck it' and kissed him and pulled away and looked DBK in the eye and announced "I've known Red is my romantic soulmate since day 1 and I am not wasting anymore time with stupid feuds".

Apparently that was just enough to startle the other man into not attacking and to send Sun Wukong into a frenzy of cackling "I KNEW IT"s.

Red Son turned as red as his jacket on his cheeks and just looked at MK in awe. They had-

361 days, 10 hours, 2 minutes, 16 seconds.

Red hadn't left his parents, not immediately, but the sudden relationship that have been revealed between the successor to the Monkey King and the son of the Demon Bull King had forced everything to a standstill. DBK wanted revenge, PIF wanted her husband to be happy, Sun Wukong wanted to be retired, and all three of them were too stubborn to not insist the two men court each other anyway because tradition dictated that when a romantic soulmate pair revealed their bond no one could force them apart.

352 days, 14 hours, 34 minutes, 18 seconds.

MK felt back constantly checking Red Son's timer, but he didn't want to waste a single second. They had less than a year. He'd seen just how smart and resourceful and, as much as he didn't want to admit it at first, protective and caring for the people he had grown close to he was.

By the end of the month they had moved into Red Son's apartment (he had an apartment?).

322 days, 2 hours, 28 minutes, 50 seconds.

MK learned that Red Son was a fantastic chef, on par with Pigsy even. His food was spicy but over time he learned that MK would suffer through food that was hurting him just to try his food and make it less so. Just for him.

315 days, 2 hours, 45 minutes, 34 seconds.

They kissed for the second time well after they had moved in together. Despite rushing into this they had both been too nervous and flustered to do more than hold hands and sleep side by side in different blankets.

They started sharing a blanket by month 2.

292 days, 8 hours, 1 minute, 12 seconds.

DBK was still pissed at Wukong. No one thought his grudge would ever fully disappear. But he and PIF had stopped attacking. For now. For their son. The best thing they had ever done for him was let him be with his soulmate without fighting.

MK never felt more guilty than when he realized he was never going to tell them. He tried once, after they moved in. After he had truly fallen in love with Red Son. He'd cried too hard to get the words out and PIF had looked torn between telling him to leave and comforting him before she put a shockingly gentle hand on his shoulder.

He could never tell them.

267 days, 18 hours, 59 minutes, 2 seconds.

Red got along amazingly well with Mei and Sandy. The three of them together were a mechanical nightmare for anyone on their bad side and the most amazing team for anyone they made anything for. Red was also the new favorite among Sandy's cats. No one was surprised.

He and Red ended up adopting a little one eyed kitten they found outside Pigsy's Noodles. They named her Bao-Bao. They loved her.

245 days, 7 hours, 29 minutes, 34 seconds.

Naturally nothing was going to be calm for the Monkie Kid. Eventually demons far and wide came to attack either him or the city. The only difference was that, now, he had Red Son by his side.

Every time Red took a hit MK felt no fear. He knew that would not be the hit that killed his soulmate. His soulmate had-

208 days, 19 hours, 78 minutes, 21 seconds.

Red and Tang were fast friends. Red and Mei and Sandy were faster. It had taken longer for Pigsy but he came around fast enough.

Sun Wukong, though. Even after 5 months he was still slightly tense and terse and short with Red. But he had been coming around, slowly. Just like with everyone else, Wukong was hard pressed to open up to anyone who wasn't MK.

They visited Flower Fruit Mountain from time to time, and it was one day when Red had wandered off to enjoy the scenery at MK and Wukong had heard the pained screech of a small monkey in the distance.

When they saw Red calming the little one down, tending to it's wound as best he could, MK saw Wukong properly smile at him for the first time. Soon they had-

157 days, 22 hours, 28 minutes, 59 seconds.

There were still fights. DBK and Sun Wukong didn't get along. But things were better.

There were family game nights. Red and Pigsy and Wukong cooked together. Bao-Bao had grown into a beautiful Tortoise Shell cat (with tortitude included). Everyone promised to try to get along and things were going well. Red Son and MK were truly in love, it seemed. At least MK was. He was certain Red was as well.

That's why MK asked him to marry him that night.

Red said yes.

140 days, 19 hours, 34 minutes, 34 seconds.

Was 7 months too fast? Yes. Did MK care? No. Did anyone object?

Only the demons that showed up to fight. They were taken care of quickly. DBK was not entirely happy about how fast things were but for his only son it seemed he would not allow anything to ruin the day.

He'd changed over the 7 months. Not entirely, not enough for MK to completely forgive him for everything since he had awoken. But seeing him punch a demon into the stratosphere for Red Son was a pretty good marker of how much he was trying.

6 days, 37 hours, 8 minutes, 12 seconds.

Everything was amazing for those few months together. They fought demons. They kissed. They spent time with their family. No longer two families but one family.

Then Macaque came back.

MK had thought he was gone for good, he had been so quiet. But apparently he was planning something the whole time.

Something to kill an immortal.

That was when MK learned he was immortal. And wasn't that ironic?

Macaque had meant to stab him. MK didn't move in time.

Red Son jumped in front of him and there was red.

Macaque wasn't seen again after what MK did to him.

They bandaged the small wound in Red Son's shoulder. They would find a way to fix this. They had to. MK knew what would kill Red Son now, it wasn't that he wasn't immortal it was whatever poison had been meant for him. He knew people had beaten death clocks before.

He had to try.

5 days, 12 hours, 29 minutes, 56 seconds.

5 days, 12 hours, 29 minutes, 55 seconds.

5 days, 12 hours,. 29 minutes, 54 seconds.

That was what MK saw when Red Son coughed up blood for the first time.

4 days, 1 hour, 12 minutes, 13 seconds.

Sun Wukong found out where Macaque had gotten the poison.

There was no cure.

Red coughed more red and MK screamed at the Monkey King to look again. Do something. Anything. Anything...

They didn't see him or DBK for over 2 days.

1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, 14 seconds.

1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, 13 seconds.

MK watched the countdown timer tick down.

"Why are you still awake?" Red Son had asked him as he held his head in his lap.

"I don't want to miss any more seconds with you," MK answered softly.

"Am I going to... die?" Red Son asked softly.

"Not if Monkey King does what I know he can do," MK answered again. "I know he'll be back soon. I know it. I-"

"MK! MK I'M BACK!" Sun Wukong yelled through the apartment, bursting into their room looking disheveled and like he hadn't stopped moving since he left. But smiling. DBK looked much the same as he came through the door behind him.

"I think we found something!"

1 day, 17 hours, 32 minutes, 2 seconds.

MK prayed that Sun Wukong was right. He was Sun Wukong. He had to be.

1 day, 17 hours, 32 minutes... 3 seconds.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Odin’s Ward ~ Chapter 14

Link to previous part:

https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/638547377817550848/odins-ward-chapter-13

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Word count: 3943

Warnings: Mentions of violence (non-graphic)

True age: Y/n: 1449 // Loki: 1575 // Thor: 1827 // Audunn 3213

Human equivalent age: Y/n: 23 // Loki: 25 // Thor: 29// Audunn: 51

Loki’s POV

“He planted his seeds in my half of the land,” the farmer spits, red in the face with anger. Odin’s expression is calm, but I, as much as this annoys me, know him well enough to tell when he is putting on a facade.

“I should get what’s sown! It’s my land!”

“But they’re my seeds,” the other farmer counters, face equally splotchy.

I sigh deeply, unfathomably bored with these trivial exchanges. It’s the third Thursday of the month, a time when peasants and nobles alike can bring their concerns before the Royal Family. We occupy the throne room, an intricate chair for us each placed in an intimidating line. I sit to my mother’s left, Thor to Odin’s right. A familiar anger boils within me. Of course the Golden Child sits at the King’s right. Not that I want to be any closer to Odin, but Thor’s position clearly communicates his status: he is next in line for the throne. The bitterness builds. Really, was there ever any contest?

Without warning, Farmer One lunges at Farmer Two, knocking him over the head with a sharp punch. I keep my calm exterior, but internally, my interest piques. Maybe this won’t be a completely wasted day after all.

But to my disappointment, four guards quickly put the skirmish to an end. Both men are taken to the dungeons.

Problem solved, I guess.

The interest I felt only seconds ago abandons me as I see a nearly identical pair to the last come forward.

I slouch.

“Stop her!”

The shout, which comes from a guard outside the throne room, is followed by a loud clamoring as armored guards chase after an unknown offender. And although I logically know it’s probably just some widow trying to cut in line, my hand inches towards my mother, ready to take her to safety if need be. Thor stands, putting on quite the show of a dutiful son. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Against all odds, the noises don’t subside—they get closer to our location. Mother shoots Odin an alarmed look.

But when the intruder enters the throne room, my stomach drops to my feet.

I straighten, back stiff with tension and I can do nothing but stare on in complete shock. I feel my fingers straining with the grip they have on the throne’s arms, but I barely take notice. All I can notice is the shaking, muddy, tear-stained and windblown woman standing in front of me.

It’s Y/n.

A messy, frightened version of Y/n, to be sure, but it’s still her.

My heart aches with a feeling I thought I had long-ago purged.

Thor is the first to break from the shock and hurries down to Y/n, waving away the guards who have attached themselves to her arms. Noticing her tattered dress and shivering form, he takes off his red cloak and wraps it around her, looking at her with the concern and surprise I’m sure we all wear on our faces.

In a hoarse but firm voice, Y/n addresses us. “May I approach the King?”

In a pinched voice, Odin responds. “You may.”

Y/n curtsies as best as she can and takes two wobbly steps forward. Thor hovers near her uncertainly, obviously wondering if she’s about to collapse.

Y/n gives me a fleeting look and my mouth runs dry.

She turns her attention back to Odin. “I’ve come to request aid from Asgard. Two days ago, my husband raised an army against my father. Since then, the realm has been thrown into chaos. Brother murders brother and citizens switch sides as the tides of the battle change. It’s civil war.” She swallows, finding it difficult to continue. “Casualties are estimated at three thousand so far, but I have been gone for several hours. That number has likely risen.”

Odin has the nerve to sound dubious when he speaks. “And just how did you end up here if the realm is indeed engulfed in chaos as you say?”

Through my shock, I still find room to be annoyed by Odin.

Y/n seems to steel herself and looks him right in the eye. “My husband locked me in the dungeon with others deemed to be a threat to his reign. I believe he would have killed me if it were not that his claim to power dies with me. He’s been so preoccupied with trying to overthrow my father that those loyal to me were able to take advantage and help me and my maidservant escape. It took a long time but we were finally able to sneak through the castle and into the observatory, where we took the Bifrost to Asgard.

Odin purses his lips, seeming unaffected by Y/n’s story. “And this maidservant. Can she corroborate your tale?”

Y/n’s face flushes. “It’s not a tale! Your Highness, people are being slaughtered. Look at my shoes!” She kicks one off and holds it up for us to see. Mother stifles a gasp. Y/n’s shoe is caked with blood. Dark, clotted blood sticks all over the bottom and side of her shoe. Upon further inspection, I see that it continues over her ankles and the lower parts of her dress. “Blood like this is running through the castle halls. I can only hope the fighting is confined to the castle and that the carnage has not yet reached the lower town.” Y/n takes another step forward, stronger this time. “Your Majesty, please. They may live far away, but they are still your people. I fear that if we wait much longer, Audunn will take control and anyone loyal to me or my father will be executed.”

Odin squints, mulling over his options. “My help does not come freely.”

Oh how I hate this man.

Y/n grits her teeth but nods. “Then let us negotiate quickly.”

“Asgard’s army will step in and restore your father to the throne. Your husband and his supporters will be put to death or imprisoned.”

Y/n’s lack of reaction is noticeable.

“Your husband’s death does not trouble you?” Odin’s voice seeps with judgement.

“Audunn has made his choices. He must suffer the consequences.” Knowing Y/n so well allows me to detect the malice in her voice. I stifle a mirthless chuckle. So it seems we’ve both been hardened by the world.

Odin nods. “Very well. Since you will be without a husband and my son is still unmarried, I propose the obvious solution.”

My heart stops.

No.

“You and Thor will wed.”

“Father!” Thor’s explosion is the loudest, but Y/n provides her own objections as well. I swallow mine down, retreating into myself. He will get everything that was ever dear to me. I really shouldn’t be surprised at this point, nor feel the hurt, but still, it stabs deep into my chest. I put a lot of effort towards not letting my pain show.

“Father, you are well aware of my intentions to wed Jane. I love her! Y/n is like a sister to me, I would never consent to be her husband.”

“I will not have the next Queen of Asgard be human!” Odin slams his staff into the ground. “For all I care, you can take Y/n as your wife and keep Jane as your mistress. But make no mistake, Jane will never be your wife, nor will her children be heirs to my throne.”

Odin’s proposal clearly sickens Thor, but Y/n just looks blankly at the ground, noticeably quiet now. The two men continue in their argument, each getting louder than the other with every new point.

“Thor please,” Y/n interjects, her voice breaking on the last word.

Silence rings through the room as all eyes turn to her.

She addresses Thor directly, desperation evident in every inch of her body. “My people are dying. An entire realm will be condemned to slaughter and chaos if we cannot reach an agreement today. I am familiar with a husband who keeps mistresses and am very good at being discrete.”

The heart that I thought had long ago hardened breaks a little.

“I promise our marriage will not interfere with any more aspects of your life than absolutely necessary. We can work out the specifics later but for now, I beg for your cooperation.”

Her earnestness is clear and, with a defeated nod, Thor agrees to make my once lover his wife.

Unable to stand it any longer, I stalk from the room.

Y/n’s POV

Loki strides out of the room, looking bored. That’s it?

It’s not like I expected loud objections and an offer to marry me himself,—it has been over two hundred years and all—but I did expect, at the very least, some recognition. Loki gave no indication that he knew or cared who I was. Even through the shock and exhaustion and fear, hurt still manages to find its way into my heart. I try to shake it off. The task at hand is much more important than my feelings.

“If you are ready, Your Majesty, my people will be eagerly awaiting Asgard’s aid.”

Odin doesn’t look at me. Instead, he gestures to a guard. “Have the warriors gathered and ready within the hour. Thor and I will accompany them to Alfheim.”

Frigga interjects before I can. “What about Loki?”

If he stays in Asgard with me and Frigga, the people might view him as cowardly for not going to fight with the men.

Odin purses his lips unpleasantly. “He has not yet regained my trust.”

What?

Frigga looks away, her mouth set in a hard line. Odin exits the throne room, sparing no one any further glances. As Thor passes me, he gives what I think he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“All will soon be well, Lady Y/n.”

I nod, hoping he’s right. When he’s nearly exited the room, I remember his cloak.

“Wait,” I call, hurrying to him. He drops slightly so I can throw the cloak over his massive shoulders and secure it under his chin. Shame keeps me from looking him in the eyes. After all, if he dies, it will be my fault. I don’t want to marry Thor, but he was a dear friend to me at one point, much like a brother. I don’t want to lose him. “Be safe.”

He nods and gives my shoulder a hesitant squeeze. Then, without another word, he follows Odin out of the room. I can tell it will take him a long time to accept our eventual marriage.

Not like it will be any faster for you.

“Come, sweet Y/n.” Frigga’s voice startles me and pulls me from my thoughts. “I believe you need a hot bath, some supper, and a change of clothes.”

I let out a noise that sounds scarily similar to a heaving sob. “Yes, please.”

{***}

The water is hot and the steam curls the ends of my hair. One servant scrubs the dirt from my nails and another, my back. I sigh, feeling some of the tension finally beginning to leave my body.

Then, comes the guilt.

I’m here in Castle Asgard being pampered by servants, sitting in the company of the Queen, while my people are dying. To distract myself from the strong desire to wallow in guilt and despair, I decide to question Frigga about something that’s been bothering me deeply since my arrival.

“Is Prince Loki alright?” I try to sound casual but don’t quite pull it off. “He seemed…not like himself.”

Frigga exhales heavily, and heartbreak settles in her expression. My stomach clenches in anticipation. Whatever it is, it can’t be good. “It is not really my story to tell…but you have a right to know and I doubt he plans on telling you himself.”

I dare not breathe as I wait for her to continue.

“Odin and I have never been the perfect parents. We’ve made many mistakes over the years, but one has stood out amongst them as the most damaging. And my poor son bore the brunt of the hurt from something that isn’t even his fault.” Frigga takes a moment to fiddle with her hands, not meeting my eyes. “Loki is adopted.”

What? I feel my brows furrow as I try to make sense of this. How is someone just adopted into the monarchy? Royalty is based on blood and marriage, not adoption.

“During the last major war with the Frost Giants, Odin came across a baby. A Frost Giant baby — a son of Laufey, no less.”

I heave a sharp intake of breath. “What?”

She continues, giving me a teary-eyed look. “The baby had magic and unknowingly used its abilities to capture the likeness of an Asgardian child. Odin felt for him and brought him home. You have to understand, Odin and I had been trying for another child for over two hundred years, without success. It had seemed Thor would be our only child, but then the gods dropped this blessing into our laps.” The tears fall then, and she cuts me off as I try to interject with questions. “Because Loki is a blessing, you see. He is my son just as much as Thor is, and I would not trade him for a biological child.” Her voice takes on a desperate, scratchy quality that I’ve never heard from her. “I love Loki. He is my child. And he is part of this family!” Frigga sniffles pitifully and, if I were not naked and soaking with suds and water, I would jump up and hug her. “Unfortunately, Loki does not see it this way. He did not find out the truth from us, but by accident.” A pained look crosses her face. “He thought he was a monster. He still thinks that. And yes, some of his recent actions have been like those of a monster, but I know he isn’t. My poor child is hurting, and he does not know how to handle it.” She takes a steadying breath and turns her eyes to the ceiling. “Odin has essentially sworn Loki off, and Loki has done the same for the rest of us. He still holds some affection for me, but all is lost for his father and brother. He even tried to kill Thor and Jane. Thankfully, the attempt was unsuccessful, but that makes it no less terrifying. It’s a horrible thing to have your sons on opposing sides. After that, Loki—” she shudders violently. “He—he fell off the Bifrost. Well, he was going to fall, and Thor tried to pull him back up, but-but Loki let go.” Her voice breaks and the tears fall freely now.

He…tried to kill himself? I feel a lump rise in my own throat and my breath stops all together. The bath water seems to turn ice cold. My mind races to try and draw the connection between the Loki I knew and the Loki in Frigga’s story.

What happened to him?

“He fell for who knows how long. It was many months before he resurfaced again, though he was not the same person. Not at all. My poor son! He had been brutally tortured and his anger only amplified during his time of isolation.”

I feel my muscles tense and lock into place. Someone tortured Loki? The fury I feel surprises me, scares me even. Never have I wanted to hurt someone like I want to hurt the person who caused Loki pain.

“Loki had grown up his whole life to believe he was destined to be a king. When he realized his true parentage, Loki knew Odin would never allow him to rule.” She frowns. “Odin should not have encouraged him so during his childhood only to rip the possibility away later. But the entity who tortured him—he still won’t tell us who—made Loki believe that he could be king of Midgard. Loki used the Chitarui to attack a Midguardian city and try to force the realm into submission to him. Many people died.”

My heart beats so loudly that I’m sure everyone in the room can hear it. I’m surprised the vibrations aren’t causing waves in my bathwater. As much as I want to cover my ears or run out of the room and denounce Frigga’s words as lies, I can’t. Because no matter how horrifying and outlandish this story sounds, I can’t ignore the fact that the Loki I saw an hour ago was not the same Loki I knew two hundred and fifty years ago. Yes, people change, but not like that. Something really, really awful must have happened to bring about this new Loki.

Frigga continues, sounding weary. “A Midgardian fighting group Thor associates with defeated Loki and the Chitauri. Loki was brought back to Asgard in chains. Odin sentenced him to a five hundred years of imprisonment. There was nothing I could do to lessen the sentence and, of course, Loki has too much pride and hatred for his father to try and lessen it himself. But not long after his imprisonment, the Dark Elves launched an attack on the Nine Realms.”

I furrow my brow. I hadn’t heard of this. How had Alfheim not been aware?

“Loki broke out of prison and aided Thor in the fight against the Dark Elves.” Frigga gives a tearful smile. “Finally, they were on the same side! Loki nearly died in the fight. He protected Jane with his life. Thankfully, Thor was able to bring him back to Asgard in time and the Healers and I saved him with our magic. At mine and Thor’s behest, Odin begrudgingly ended Loki’s imprisonment. We all agreed that Loki’s sacrifice and willingness to protect the Nine Realms atoned for his crimes. I truly thought that was the turning point and that my Loki would be back.”

She sighs, looking at her hands once more. “But Loki is still a changed man. The lies, betrayals, hurt, and anger penetrated too deeply into his soul. Now he is cold, distant, spiteful, and he always wears a mask. No one can ever guess what he is feeling, because he refuses to give any indication of it! I worry he is not letting himself heal. And he is trying to push away the people he loves most.” Her voice softens, and she places a tender hand on my soapy cheek. “Do not be surprised if he does the same to you.”

{***}

Since my most immediate needs have been taken care of, I have ample energy to worry.

My stomach, in a near-constant state of unease since my escape from the dungeons, churns. My mind darts from thought to thought as I try to cope with fears for my people and my father, my anger at Audunn, shock at all I’ve experienced, pain and frustration at my engagement to Thor, and deep, deep hurt for Loki. There’s some anger there, too. Maybe more than some.

I huff.

Definitely more than some.

How could he be so stupid?! Yes, it’s absolutely terrible what he went through, but resorting to realm-domination and murder? Uh-uh. No way. Unacceptable. And the attitude on him! What the Hel is that?

“Ugh!” Some of my frustration leaves me at the spot where my foot kicks the table.

It immediately returns upon registering the pain.

“My Lady, please sit down!” Ragna worries over me, trying to pull me into a plush, high-backed chair. “You have been through so much, you need to rest.”

I scoff, yanking my arm from her grip. “There’s too much going on to allow time for rest, Ragna. And yet there’s nothing I can do about any of it!” I drop my arms to my side, defeated. “I hate that there’s nothing I can do.”

She frowns, unsure of how to help me. It’s then that I notice how tired she looks herself. A deep scratch runs from her temple to her hairline—she got that from a rogue guard when we were escaping Alfheim. She’s been through just as much as you have.

I give her a weak smile, hoping I look reassuring. “You and I both have been through a great ordeal. Please, let me call a servant to show you to your quarters. Take as long as you need to bathe, eat, rest, whatever you need.”

Ragna hesitates, but she’s so tired that she’s swaying on her feet. I nod encouragingly. “Al-alright, My Lady. Thank you.”

“Of course.” I go to the wall and pull on the string that will ring a bell in the Servant’s Quarters. Within minutes, a young serving maid enters the room with a knock and a curtsey. I send Ragna away with instructions not to come back until she is fully fed, cleaned, and rested.

But once I’m alone, the thoughts come racing back. While there’s nothing I can do right now to help Alfheim, there is something I can do to help myself.

I let out a loud, guttural groan, knowing what I have to do.

{***}

I haven’t been in the palace in over three centuries, but little has changed. Queen Frigga insisted I retake my old living quarters, so the path is one I know well.

He doesn’t seem surprised when I bypass a servant and enter his chambers without knocking.

“Leave us.” While my throat feels tight, the command is clear, and the five servants hurry from the room.

Loki doesn’t look up from his book when he says his first words to me in two hundred and fifty years. “Well, that was rude. What a terrible first impression the future queen of Asgard has given them.”

I scoff, crossing my arms, trying not to let the jab at my imminent marriage to Thor hurt me. “You want to talk to me about manners? All you do is scowl and stalk out of rooms.”

He gives an unaffected shrug. “Think what you like.”

The silence weighs on me and I can feel my heartbeat echoing through my body.

“Stand up.”

Now it’s his turn to scoff. “Why? Planning on impaling me with your dagger?”

Tempting. “Stand. Up.”

He sighs but humors me, setting down his book to stand with his arms spread mockingly wide. “Happy?” He fixes me with a hard, emotionless look.

I steel myself and barrel forward, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug.

He stiffens. “Lady Y/n, whatever you hope to achieve—”

“Shut up.” I squeeze tighter, turning my face so my cheek is against his chest. He sighs again and lets his arms hang, refusing to hug me back. I press on, forcing myself to say what I came here to say. “Listen. You’ve done some really bad things and turned yourself into a pretty awful person to be around.” I swallow, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. “But regardless of where we stand or what is in the past or future, you need to know that I am always on your side. I want you to get better. I don’t want you to feel pain or be sad or hurt or anything bad. But you have got to stop self-sabotaging. You need to let yourself heal. The people who love you can only protect you from so much.”

I push away from him and leave the room without another look.

A/n Happy New Year! My requests are open so message me if there’s something you would like for me to write :) Let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/639618035738607616/odins-ward-chapter-15

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[harcove]

I posted 2,164 times in 2021

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For every post I created, I reblogged 7.0 posts.

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#i got 12k points and this clown was spamming thank u at me and liked everyone except me when we died im yall i i wasnt chaired once clown

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

you uh. wouldn't mind an angst request would you haha because I have had this one scenario stuck in my head where leon (probably resi 6 leon) has been drinking a lot more and has been neglecting his s/o and they finally call him out on his shit

anyway ooga booga they fight and decide it's best they give leon his space and take a break and maybe he finds them at a bar he goes to to get wasted to already find them drunk off their ass

Angst is absolutely one of my most favourite things to write and to read like damn I do be out here making myself CRY. So I definitely don't mind angst like hell yeah!

I was gonna end this was a happier note- but uh, I really love angst so I left it semi-open ended but also pretty sad I think. Also not really dialogue-heavy, more like... I write too much detail-heavy :,) Also this isn't edited, I spent days on this cause I was overthinking it and felt it was just not good so oof I'm sorry!

Length: 2k

Request: in the ask

Warnings: angst, drinking, lowkey it's alcoholism on Leon's part, being drunk

Leon x Reader - "I know."

How long had it been since you had held your boyfriend's hand? Since the two of you had really sat together and done something together, fully, completely, involved, and focused on one another. You didn't even remember, which was agonizing to think about.

You had been through so much with Leon. And you knew where his deepest thought lay, but you could never truly know. And it didn't help that over the years the two of you had together, he had started to become more distant. And instead of finding his comfort in your arms, he found it in some glass bottle.

At first, you didn't really protest much, you didn't say much about it. A drink every once in a while couldn't hurt. Yet, it wasn't every once in a while. It was more often than you'd have liked. And he was using it to forget. To focus on anything else but his life and his memories. Your soft words trying to talk to him didn't do much to stop him or dissuade him. He brushed you off more often than not. It tore you up from the inside out that you couldn't help him, that at some point a bottle was his chosen form of comfort over you.

The guilt mixed with sadness, and then with anger. And in the end, those feelings came together and created an explosion between the two of you one night.

Your throat was hoarse as you swallowed as much air as you could. You couldn't exactly remember what the argument stemmed from but you knew it had to be related to him drinking.

"Will you just listen to me?!" You shouted, the words coming out uneven as your throat begged you to stop, "put that shit down Leon, and look at me!"

The man sitting at the aisle in your kitchen put the flask he had down in front of him, but still had his hands on it. He turned his head to look at you, barely even moving at all, and his eyes were looking at you like he was unimpressed or annoyed.

"I'm listening."

You wanted to pull on your hair and scream because he wasn't. He wasn't listening, and he hadn't been, at least not for a while.

"No you aren't, you are not listening to a word I say, you never do!"

He scoffed, turning back to his drink and taking another sip.

"Where am I going on Friday?"

"What?" He looked at you incredulously, completely lost as your voice went from yelling at him to speaking relatively peacefully, but there was no peace in your voice.

"I said, where am I going on Friday, Leon," you repeated with clenched fists, "if you listen to me if you even bother to pay attention to me, you would know the answer. So where am I going on Friday?"

The silence was your answer, as you expected it to be, you just hadn't expected it to be so painful.

"I'm going to visit my family in the town over," your voice was low and tired, and you wanted to cry but you couldn't even find it in you to do that, "I told you that a thousand times Leon I..."

Biting your lip hard, you felt yourself break skin, and the metallic taste of blood invaded your taste buds. You were so angry at him moments before, angry enough you had been yelling. But suddenly you weren't angry anymore. You were just so sad; sad for yourself and sad for him. He wasn't going to listen to you, not right now, that much was clear.

"I've been busy Y/N-" whatever he said was wasted on deaf ears as you drowned them out unintentionally, your eyes trained on the flask he nursed.

For once, you knew you had to let it be. You had to give him space, and give yourself space.

"I'm sleeping in the guest room," you offered lamely after the long silence between the two of you after he had finished whatever he had said. Leon looked up at you, with a look of surprise, and confusion, "we both need space. From each other. I just... Don't stay up drinking all night."

"Y/N-" his words once again fell upon deaf ears, and his fingers just missed your arm as you turned and went upstairs to the room usually used by people like Claire, or Chris, sometimes Sherry.

When morning came, you had gotten up later than usual, Leon was already gone as he usually was early in the morning with his job and everything. Your heart felt heavier as you walked into the empty kitchen and noted the vodka bottle you two had been given as a gift was half empty. Something in you asked if it was all worth it; did it really do so much that he drank more than he should've? Did it take away the feelings of hopelessness, like the one you were currently stuck in?

See the full post

146 notes • Posted 2021-08-27 08:58:46 GMT

#4

Watching SDC and saw this photo of Joseph, Suzi and young Holly and bruh I just wish we could see a better version of it like damn

223 notes • Posted 2021-02-10 05:01:03 GMT

#3

Matching icons for you and a friend :)

243 notes • Posted 2021-03-15 05:15:43 GMT

#2

Leon's dead by daylight voice actor doing an audio clip of him doing Leon's injured noises and then saying "mommy," is something that lives inside my head rent fucking free.

299 notes • Posted 2021-08-28 07:39:33 GMT

#1

See the full post

642 notes • Posted 2021-03-12 05:13:24 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[kimburgess-ruzek]

You Have No Idea.

chapter one.

summary: Something Kim does changes her future in Intelligence forever. In ways no one can imagine. But when she is caught on the wrong side of crime, will her previous reputation and relationship with the police help her? Or are her actions so damaging that nothing or no one can save her?

t/w: mentions of sexual assault

read on ao3.

one.

*months before the prologue.*

“What do we got?”

Adam lifted the yellow tape to allow Voight to the scene. It was super early. 5:29 am. And the constant flashing lights and sirens made Adam too tired to joke around. He had to get up early to meet Rojas on the scene and take statements. He was wearing sunglasses and his hair wasn’t even done.

“Group of witnesses claim to have seen a woman kidnapped. They were outside of the bar and saw the woman and a man arguing in the alley, they thought it was nothing since it just verbal. Then a van drives by and the man pulls the girl inside and they take off.” Adam caught Voight up while they walked to where the rest of the team was.

“Did they catch a look at the plate?” Voight asked.

“No. The car was unmarked.” Kevin answered.

“The group wasn’t able to identify much of either the woman or the man. It was too dark. But they did say they were dressed for the club. The woman had on a dress. So my guess is camera footage of the club might have their faces. Jay is securing security footage from both inside and outside.” Rojas explained.

“Okay. Get back to the district and watch every second of the footage. I want to see if they were inside that club and if we can get facial rec.”

“We’re taking this Sarge? The witnesses were drunk themselves. They might not be credible. How do you know we’re just wasting time?” Hailey asked. There didn’t seem to be anything worth dragging Intelligence into. They probably could’ve handed this off to some other unit.

“We’re taking this case because I said so. This club has been on the radar for PD a while now. So go watch that footage. While you’re at it, grab the manager. Maybe he has some talking to do.”

“Copy, Sarge.” Adam walked back to his truck and sat inside there, trying to keep his eyes open. They had nonstop cases, and he hadn’t gotten much sleep in the last few weeks. The whole team hasn’t. With one member down, they had to do overtime most nights in order to be one step ahead of the bad guys.

Before he could drive off the scene, his passenger side door opened and Kevin sat down and buckled himself in without permission.

“Hey man, mind giving me a ride to the office? I rode with Jay and he’s still getting footage.”

“Nah, you got it.” Adam took off, heading back to the district. He didn’t talk much on the ride there. He just focused on not letting his eyelids close.

Kevin tried to ease the silence, “So, have you heard from her?”

Adam sighed and rubbed his forehead. “No, I haven’t. I’ve called her everyday. I’ve even dropped by her place a couple of times. She doesn’t want to be heard. Or seen.”

Kevin looked at Adam with sympathy. “Give it time. She took it hard.”

Adam answered as they pulled up to the parking lot.

“Yeah, I just don’t feel okay with it. Something doesn’t seem right.”

...

buzz, buzz. buzz, buzz.

It took everything in Kim to open her eyes. She rarely gets any sleep anymore; she is either pulling all-nighters or she is waking up sporadically at odd hours of the night. Her new lifestyle, as she would call it, isn’t the most healthy. She doesn’t have a sleep schedule, doesn’t have anything but beer in her fridge, and always wakes up hungover. But she doesn’t really care. She’ll do anything to keep going through life at this point. She takes every opportunity to rest her eyes, and she waits until the last seconds to rise out of her slumber. The light was already shining through her half closed curtains, and it took a few seconds for eyes to adjust. She yawned and stretched her arms before reaching for phone, reading the new message that she just got. However, before she could read it, she had a missed call notification. Kim sighed, she could probably guess who it was from. Nevertheless, she opened her phone and played the missed message.

*one voicemail from Adam Ruzek*

“Hey Kim. Just checking up on you. I haven’t heard from you in a while and I know you’re probably upset over everything that happened. I know I am. I miss being able to see my friend everyday at the office. Um, anyways, I just want to make sure you’re doing well. The whole team wants to make sure. Kevin won’t stop bothering me about making sure you’re doing good. I’ve tried visiting, but you must not have been home. Maybe we can meet for coffee or something. I have to go, but please. Just call me. Reach out. And know that I’m already here for you.”

Adam has called Kim everyday for two months now, ever since Kim left intelligence. And everyday, Kim would either sleep through it or she would ignore it. And everyday, Adam would leave a voicemail. Sometimes short, sometimes long. Always asking if she is okay and if she can call him back. Kim couldn’t help but laugh at how persistent Adam is. He will probably never stop calling he’s so stubborn. He’s probably just doing it out of spite now. Part of Kim wanted to pick up the phone one day and tell him to leave her alone and stop calling. To forget about her because she is not coming back. Part of her wanted to answer the call and just tell him the truth. But she knew that she couldn’t do either, because it would distract her from her new life.

...

Kim remembered the day like it was yesterday. The day that changed her life forever.

Two months ago.

The bastards that raped her sister, Nicole, were fully released. Kim dreaded that day, because she knew that she had to inform Nicole of the news. Nicole was healing to the best of her abilities. She felt okay living on her own, but every once in a while she would call Kim, scared and crying. When she heard of the news, Nicole was shocked and felt uneasy. She said that she felt unsafe and asked if Kim could stay the night with her. Kim obviously said yes, but she feared that Nicole would start to retreat to her previous ways.

Within a week of the release of the two men, two women were found in the basement of the train station with obvious signs of rape and signs of drugs in their system similar to what Nicole experienced. After hearing the news of the two women, Kim’s fear turned out to be a reality. Nicole would not leave her house, and she begged Kim to stay at her apartment during the night. Kim often times had to stay late to work on the case, so she would leave Nicole on speaker phone, being there for support and calming her down when her anxiety picked up.

A week later, two more women were found in the train station. It was enough for Intelligence to be looped in. All of the women were drugged with ketamine and raped. They couldn’t remember anything, other than they were invited to an after party after being out at bars.

Kim immediately saw similarities in this case with Nicole’s. She wanted to go a storm the two men’s apartment, but the team shot her down.

“We have no other leads,” Jay tried to reason. “There’s no evidence that it’s the two men, and there’s not enough probably cause for a warrant.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course there’s enough evidence. This is the same exact scenario we saw four years ago. The exact same. You can’t tell me this isn’t enough probably cause.” Kim replied.

“Kim, I get it, okay. I do. But we have no dna evidence, nothing useful from the women. A judge won’t sign off on a warrant. And who’s to say these aren’t just other men?” Hailey jumped in. Even though she wasn’t there when the first case went down, Hailey had heard about it when she arrived. She heard Kim’s concern about the release of the two men about a year ago. She felt for Kim, she really did; but she also understood Jay and knew it wouldn’t be enough for a warrant.

Kim let out a sigh, shaking her head. She was about to respond when Adam jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Let’s just try to find some evidence. Let’s pull pod footage and see who dropped off those two women.”

It was obvious Kim herself wasn’t handling the news well, either, and the team could tell. She couldn’t shake the feeling of Nicole missing. She couldn’t shake the image of Nicole helpless on a bench at the station. So helpless, no one even looking her way. And she can’t can’t shake the fact that Nicole was doing so good, actually taking a step forward before those two bastards were released. Now, all Kim could do was watch Nicole retreat to her previous ways. She tried being there for Nicole, but Nicole was shutting her out again.

If Kim couldn’t be there for Nicole physically, she was going to do everything in her power to make Nicole feel safe again. She was the first one at work and the last to leave. She just threw herself on the case, which meant getting little sleep or lunch breaks. Even without knowing for sure it was the same two men, Kim had a gut feeling that it was, and it made her sick to her stomach that they got off so easily. Kim asked to run point on the field, but because this case was so close to her, Voight said no without hesitation.

“Kim, I get it. You’re close to this. But I can’t have you going off the books like you did last time.”

“Sarge, please. I won’t. I—“ Kim tried but was shot down by Voight again, this time more assertive.

“No. I’ve made my decision. No further questions. Kim you will run the calls in the office and you are not to go on the field. Got it? Cause if not you can just go home.” Voight stared down Kim. He wanted to make a point to not only her but also the whole team that he is in charge.

The bullpen was silent, and there was so much tension in the room no one dared to even breathe. Kim could feel all eyes on her, waiting for her to make a move.

“Yes sir,” was all Kim could get out before clearing her throat and shifting her eyes to her desk, almost in embarrassment. Adam swallowed hard, he felt so bad for Kim.

“Good. So what do we got?” Voight slid his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders, getting back to business.

“We tried searching for pod footage of the train station, but couldn’t find anyone dropping the women off. Instead, we pulled video footage from the club.” Rojas began typing in her computer while the other gathered around her. Kim still sat at her desk. She felt like she couldn’t move. She was still stunned at what Voight did. And right in front of everyone too. Adam went to see the footage but kept a close eye on Kim.

“Here, you see the two victims, getting into a car. But you only see a portion of the faces of the two men.” Kevin explained.

“So not enough for facial rec.” Jay stated.

“No, but if you pause the video right here.” Kevin stopped the clip and zoomed in on one of the men’s arm, “You can see a scar on the shoulder. I ran all credit card transactions and the same two men that got Kim’s sister were there that night.”

“How does the scar link the same two men to both crimes?” Hailey asked out loud.

“Kim stabbed one of the guys in the shoulder as self defense.” Adam answered quickly, being sure not to share too much information in case Kim was sensitive to it. Everyone looked to Kim, seeing if she had a reaction. She instead was still staring at her desk. Jay began to put the pieces together.

“Do you think that’s enough probable evidence?”

“It can be.” Voight answered, starting to walk away from the desk. “Hailey, Jay, get together a paper lineup. Go see if the women can point out the suspects. Good job Rojas and Atwater. Write up a warrant for the judge.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Got it.”

Everyone stirred to action. Hailey printed out a sheet of random men, with the two suspects on there to see if the women can identify them. Jay put on his jacket and they headed downstairs to the hospital. The sudden noise and movement stirred Kim from her thoughts. She quietly rose from her desk and went to the locker room to splash water in her face. To her dismay, Adam saw Kim her up and he followed her. He wanted to make sure she was okay.

“Hey, Kim. You doing alright? Voight went down on you pretty hard.” Adam followed her into the locker room and closed the door, for privacy. She was drying off her face with a towel, and she turned to walk back out, not meeting his gaze.

“I’m good, Adam. I just want to catch these bastards.” Kim tried to move past him but he stepped in front of her, not letting her out the door.

“No, really. How are you doing? With everything?”

Kim sighed. She didn’t want to express what she was truly feeling, and she especially didn’t want to in front of Adam. Even though they had been through a lot together, this felt different. This not only affected her, but it also affected her sister and her niece. Her family. However, she knew that he wasn’t going to let her leave without doing so, so she opened up a little.

“I feel like I’m helpless. I can’t do anything up here sitting at a desk, that won’t help Nicole. That won’t help those two women. God, I just need to be out there. I need to close this case.” Kim ran her hands through her hair and then put her head in her hands, almost in self defeat.

adam places his hands on her arms, rubbing them up and down to try to sooth her. He gently consoled her, “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. You are helping by being up here. A lot. You have to be strong. For Nicole. And when we get these perps, when we do, you’ll be able to tell her you helped put those men away. We will get these perps. I will make sure of it. For you. I’m always here for you, Kim.”

Kim calmed down a little. She started to give in to her tiredness and fell into a hug when her mind ran back to the case, and she remembered that she had work to do.

“Yeah, thanks.” She pulled away and slid past him to head back to her desk to bury herself with paperwork.

Unfortunately, the two women weren’t able to identify the two men. They were too drugged to remember much of anything. However, the judge did sign off on a house warrant, saying there’s enough probably cause without the women identifying the suspects. The suspects being the same two men that assaulted Nicole and attempted rape on Kim and Erin. This information made Kim sick to her stomach. She knew that they should have been charged with more and sentenced to more time behind bars. Her gut feeling was proving to be true. She knew it had to be the guys. Fortunately, because of this, and with the previous evidence, Intelligence didn’t have to do any undercover operation. Kim was at least pleased with this, because she certainly couldn’t have gone under again, and she didn’t want anyone else going through what she and Erin did years past.

“We’re fifteen minutes out.”

“Copy. No one moves in until I say.”

“Copy that, Sarge.”

It was just past 11:00 pm, so the team was going to the nightclub that their phone pinged to about 15 minutes ago.

“Just rolled in. Both of their cars are here.”

“Twelve minutes out.”

Suddenly, a notification popped up on Kim’s computer screen. This changed everything. Kim clenched a fist, tensing up at the thought of the two men taking advantage of another pair of women. In the very same room that they tried to take advantage of her. In the very same room where Nicole was raped. She made a split second decision, and before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her jacket and her car keys. She headed for the back exit in order to avoid running past Trudy.

She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She just knew that she had to see this case through.

...

Kim sighed. Adam. Never fails. She rubbed her eyes to try to get herself to forget about him, and she looked at her other missed massages.

*one text message from Ryan*

Babe. The cave. One hour. And don’t forget the beer.

Kim quickly look at the time.

11:43 am. Shit.

She only had twenty minutes until she would be late. And she could never be too late. Not with Ryan. She sprang out of bed and ran to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

[qiankunfics]

KunTen Masterlist Part 2

AO3

1.  Instead of a Rivalry, Can I Have a Romance? by lilyhearted

Summary: Actually, he wouldn’t have even known there was a rivalry in the first place if Hendery hadn’t found that stupid gossip article online. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

2.  gratuitous by fldx

Summary: Ten knows he looks as shameless as he feels. There's no hesitation in the way he spreads his legs further to show off his hole, teasing himself with a single finger. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot

3. Caught Up Over You by easycomeeasygo

Summary: Yukhei laughs and elbows Kun, “He’s looking at our sweet darling Kun-ge like he wants to devour him.” Rating: Mature Status: One-shot

4.  our side of the mountain by andnowforyaya

Summary: Kun and Ten sneak away in the early hours of the morning, before the crew wakes, before the other boys wake, for some quality time together. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

5. We just need to talk it out by cherrycitrus_blossom

Summary: The last thing Ten wanted was to make Kun feel like he couldn't talk to him, but why didn't Ten notice this earlier? Why did it take one comment from Johnny for Ten to realise that this friendship took more than two steps back? Rating: General Status: One-Shot

6. Flickering by violetpeche

Summary: Brushing your teeth in candlelight is not romantic. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

7.  sirens in my head by thereisnoreality

Summary: Part of murdery martrimony collection Rating: Explicit / Mature Status: One-Shot Trigger: Literally murder mentioned/implied

8.  Apple of My Eye by Lertsek

Summary: Ten wears purple lipstick. Kun likes it. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

9. we are not what we once were by johnjaemark

Summary: Ten and Kun meet again at a party thrown by their record company. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

10. breakfast meal by 10vesick

Summary: Follow-up to the Twit-fic Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

11.  Lift me up by Luonnotar

Summary: Kun just wants to go home and forget about his insufferable colleague, but a technical mishap throws a wrench into his plans Rating: General Status: One-Shot

12. One brick at a time by ForMyBabies (BooksandKpop)

Summary: Ten and Kun get into a fight and Ten is petty so while Kun is at work he covers the whole bedroom floor with legos and waits for Kun to return. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

13. Here Because of the People by eggboyksoo

Summary: Dance teacher and aspiring choreographer Ten moonlights as a cashier at a local supermarket to pay his bills. Kun happens to do his weekly shop during Ten's Monday morning shift. Both carry more baggage than most realise. Rating: Teen Status: On-Going

14.  Pineapples by subbyyang

Summary: Ten reads a very interesting article on the advantages of pineapples. He decides to check the results for himself Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

15.  Extra Practice by subbyyang

Summary: Ten and Kun get the practice room for themselves and don't waste time. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

16. It was an accident, I swear! by princessgongjunim (MyOwnCharacterInEverything)

Summary: Ten sends a wrong text to Alpha Kun.  Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot

17. we've got till noon, here comes the moon by taeyomi (buttercream)

Summary:  Ten remembers his voice saying it. He also remembers being held by him, how real everything felt. It’s true Ten’s never been in love before so he wouldn’t actually be able to compare, but he’s got an inkling Jackson’s formula wasn’t too far from it. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot 

18. baby, fuck me with your mic on by jxmxnbabe

Summary: Kun and Ten fuck while the mic is recording Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot 

19. happy hoelloween by violetpeche

Summary: Multi-shots Rating: Explcit Status: On-going

20. messages in blood on my bathroom mirror by jinnieshyun (angelsouls)

Summary: Ten finds blood on his bathroom mirror. It's surprisingly helpful. (And the guy is hot.) Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

21.  a collection of hearts by andnowforyaya

Summary: Who does this guy think he is, walking into Ten’s shop with the most adorable kid in the universe, with hair like that, a smile so blinding it could rival the light of the sun? There has to be a catch.  Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

22.  sugar frosted fruity us by moonwalker116 (mikararinna)

Summary: Ten really likes the sugary sweet frosted cereal flakes that they sell in order to fool children into eating breakfast. Kun wasn't so fond of the cereal. But just like many of Ten's quirks and bits, Kun accepted the fact that Ten really loved those cereals. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

23.  sous-vide this love by kwonjis

Summary: “i see you’ve met ten’s new beau, not a fan of his i’m assuming?” sicheng says dryly. kun huffs and turns away, grabbing a ladle from somewhere and stirring the pot behind him vigorously. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

24.  all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by drmroses

Summary:  Kun finds himself in an urgent predicament as he gets to know Ten Rating: Teen  Status: One-Shot

25.  Make The Stars Align by easycomeeasygo

Summary:  Kun runs around Beijing looking for the cute boy in the yellow sweater. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

26. fear is just a word (heaven just a place) by rowenabane

Summary: The man’s lips flicker upwards at the words, as if Kun has just told a very funny but tasteless joke. “I know.” Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

27.  catching feelings by madhoney

Summary: “You’ve trained so much for this,” Kun said. “You don’t need anyone to take care of you. You don’t need me to take care of you.” Rating: General  Status: One-Shot

28. boy with a heart by andnowforyaya

Summary: “He won’t come out,” Guangheng says, taking his stew from Kun’s hands. “He says his stomach still hurts.” Rating: General Status: One-Shot 

29. bedtime routine by tostitos

Summary: it's just like ten to mess up kun's perfect bedtime routine of coffee and a easy-reading novel with his oral fixation. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

30. and now we are prey by lunarsoo

Summary: Serial Killer hunts down Agent Kun. Rating: Explicit / Mature Status: One-shot

31. and now we are prey by lunarsoo

Summary: The more Kun knows Ten, the more he realizes he doesn’t know much about him at all. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

32. love the way you're talking to me by 10vesick

Summary: Ten seemingly doesn’t understand what Kun is saying.  Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

33. you could be the king but watch the queen conquer by thereisnoreality

Summary: Part of murdery martrimony Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

34.  2054 by pinkwinwin

Summary: He was designed this way, after all. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot

35. it’s been a long, long time. by RedamancyEffect

Summary: Kun couldn’t help but notice how Ten treated him differently since he presented. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

36. 何以歌 (a song with no name) by sayounarahitori

Summary: Kun writes music and waits for Ten. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

37. To The Prettiest Boy in School by Alette

Summary: *Main pairing is Xiaodery but KunTen is cute here too.  Rating: General Status: One-Shot

38. Are They Together or Not? by NovemberSuns

Summary: No one seems to know exactly what Kun and Ten’s relationship is. Yangyang is determined to find out. Rating: Teen  Status: One-shot

39. Coming Home by bInTheMoon

Summary:  Ten, a modern witch, finds himself in the past and get help of Qian Kun, the handsome vampire who is going to show him what home feels like. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot

40. A Kiss in Your Body by akaashigf

Summary: Kun was managing his crush and relationship with Ten well until one day, he mysteriously woke up in his body. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

41. Is This Your Card? by Kill3rWhal3D1ck

Summary: Ten thinks Kun is pretty cool in his own weird way and wishes everyone would just let him live. Rating: Teen Status: Completed *Part of NCT WayV Hogwarts AU

42.  I'm Not Coming up for Air by zosma

Summary: When Ten can't pull the threads of privacy, of identity and control, away from the performance of his daily life, Kun helps him come down in the one place that's truly private-- the shower. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

43. What Happened at Yuta’s Party? by NovemberSuns

Summary: From Taeyong getting wasted and Doyoung crying about Jeno growing up to Kun and Ten staring at each other across the room, everyone has something to remember about this particular party. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot 

44. hold on, hold tight by rainingover

Summary: Except now he's got these intermittent stomach aches and he's started to feel guilty about every other thought he has. Mainly the ones about Ten. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

45. i am a lion, i am a queen by kuntenjohnil

Summary: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul turning into a female: Double the trouble. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

46. Cold Coffee by sunsetude

Summary: Kun’s exhausted, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

47. Missing You by starryeyed (kaylie153)

Summary: Ten doesn't get a lot of alone time anymore on tour with SuperM. So he takes the chances he can get to call his closest friend and confidante in private. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

48. togetherness by andnowforyaya

Summary: After six years, Ten still acted like Baba was the coolest thing since people landed on the moon. Rating: General  Status: One-Shot

49. Kun's Out Of Body Sexting Experience by sayounarahitori

Summary: Ten won't stop sending Kun photos. It… escalates. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

50.  for real by 10vesick

Summary:Ten and Kun had been building this marriage way before either of them had even proposed. Rating: General  Status: One-Shot

[lilacmoon83]

Lightning in a Bottle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 29: Crosswinds, Pt 1

It had been ten days since they had found the passengers and subsequently the explosion that had injured Killian and unfortunately killed Vance. It had also been ten days with no Callings and though they hoped that meant it was all over, somehow, both Emma and David knew that this lull probably wasn't permanent.

Emma visited Ruth's grave that morning and put some flowers down for her. She hadn't been here in a while and truthfully, she was only six when Ruth died. She didn't remember a lot, except her motherly love and a few wise words. In a lot of ways, David and MM had always been her surrogate parents, even when they were young. They had seen her through her tremulous teen years, scolded her for how wild she had gotten a few times with Lily, and endured her screaming at them when they did try to step in with any kind of discipline. And somehow, she had turned out very well, the credit with which she attributed to them.

With her father, things had been good with him once he got clean and turned his life around. But David and MM were always the ones she would go to for advice. However, they were dealing with a lot too, so she had decided to come talk to her mother that morning. She knew David and MM would both drop everything for her, but she felt she needed to go this one on her own for a while.

"And so...that's where we are. I'm not saying I'm jealous of David...but MM's world didn't really move while he was gone. It's like she just stopped and waited for him," she explained.

"But…Killian didn't and I don't blame him. He should have moved on...five years is a long time. But it still hurts," she confessed.

"I still love him...and I think he still loves me. But we can't...he's married and the whole thing is a nightmare," Emma said.

"Anyway...thanks for listening, Mom. You can be proud of us. David and MM did a pretty bang up job with me and somehow I'm not a complete mess. Just half of one," she joked.

"Dad's better too now. He didn't drink a drop, even when he thought we were dead," she added.

"And MM is the rock and the badass she's always been. All things work together for good...that's what you always used to tell us," she mused and smirked.

"Romans 8:28...pretty trippy there with the number," she said, as she stood up and quietly walked away. Killian had made a full recovery and was checking out of the hospital today so she decided to head there to see him.

~*~

In the ten days that had passed since the rescue of the passengers, David and Margaret had not wasted the quiet lull that had set in. Margaret had taken a few days off and they had spent them decompressing together, before they began to pursue finding Johanna and checking in on Glinda and Regina, who were treating the once missing, now found passengers. They had finally located Johnna's new residence and were going there today, but first, they stopped by Vance's memorial that was being held, albeit, unofficially.

Upon his death, the NSA had cut ties with Mr. Gold and went quiet on the investigation into flight 828. Gold wasn't surprised and it was agreed that they would collaborate together in the continued research. Gold was very impressed by the records and boards that David had built in the garage and was now a fairly frequent guest at the Nolan house. Henry had taken to him as well and Mr. Gold was always very eager to see Henry's drawings.

Gold was attending the service and the two of them hung back, as the memorial proceeded. Unfortunately, near the end, Agent Arthur King, as well as one of Vance's protege, agent Powell, spotted them and came to confront them.

"You have a lot of nerve, Mr. Nolan," Powell said.

"Excuse me?" Margaret questioned defensively.

"He's the reason that Vance is dead," Arthur claimed.

"David saved dozens of innocent people and it kills us that Vance didn't make it out, but it is not David's fault," Margaret insisted and he squeezed her hand.

"He was a good man and we're just paying our respects. He risked a lot and it saved a lot of people, including our son," David said.

"Just leave," Powell insisted. They joined hands and started out again and they were quiet for a while, as he drove them, not noticing they were being followed. They arrived in the vicinity of the address they had discovered Johanna lived about ten minutes later. He parked a couple blocks away and they joined hands, as they took off on foot.

"Do you think it's strange that Johanna moved right before we found out that she was on the plane?" Margaret asked. He shrugged.

"Maybe a little...but then again, she might not have come back to the life she had before. Not very many people got as lucky as me when they came home," he said fondly, as he gently cupped her cheek. She smiled at him and he noticed someone out of the corner of his eye.

"David Nolan?" the young man asked.

"Who are you?" he asked skeptically.

"Aaron Glover...I'm an investigative reporter," he replied. That immediately turned David off and they kept walking.

"Stop following us," David warned.

"I do a podcast called 828 Gate," he said.

"We're not interested in talking to the press," David refuted.

"Even if I can tell you that one hour before you helped rescue those missing passengers, a Black hawk helicopter touched down in Red Hook?" Aaron asked, stopping them in their tracks. He turned to him.

"You can prove that someone in the government is involved in this?" David asked.

"I have a source…" he said vaguely.

"And did this source tell you who was on that helicopter?" Margaret asked.

"I don't know who it is, but the person calling the shots is referred to as the Major," he revealed. David and Margaret exchanged a glance.

"Military?" David asked.

"Definitely...and we're talking classified, but with my source and your help, we could blow this thing wide open," Aaron replied.

"We'll think about it," David said, as he took the man's card and they continued on toward their destination.

"David...how high do you think this thing goes?" she asked.

"Really high...I mean, they were keeping the director of the NSA in the dark, so it probably goes higher than we can imagine," he replied.

"You...you don't think they know what Henry can do...do you?" she asked. He looked at her.

"Not yet...and we have to keep it that way," he said, as he stopped for a moment.

"I promise you that I will make sure they don't know about our son," he vowed and she hugged him tightly. He kissed her tenderly for a long moment, before they continued on their way.

~*~

"I got here as soon as I could," Emma said, as she arrived at the property upstate where Glinda Goode was housing the rescued passengers.

"Thanks for coming. You're the first one here. We asked all the passengers that showed up at the hanger when the plane exploded to come," Regina replied, as she showed her inside.

"How are they doing?" Emma asked.

"Barely functioning...aside from Aurora, of course. They have shared movements at times, but they are mostly in a vegetative state," Regina replied, as she was astonished to see them all jerk together.

"Why do you think they haven't come around yet?" Emma asked.

"Medically...it could be that the brain has shut the body down to recover from the intense trauma, but that's just a shot in the dark theory. In reality, I have no idea," Regina admitted.

"Hey...you're doing your best and I'm sure they'll come around," Emma said, as she touched one man's hand and she had a Calling when she did. She saw a ground covered in snow and a man's hand touch the snow. She could hear what sounded like labored breathing from him.

"Find her," the man's voice said, as the Calling ended. This was definitely different than any Calling before and very intense.

"You just had a Calling," Regina said.

"Uh yeah...and it said find her. It wasn't my voice this time," Emma replied, looking at the man, as Regina opened his file.

"Paul Santino," she said.

"It says he was married, but his wife, Helen, didn't show up at the hanger," Regina said, as Emma looked at the file.

"Find her...maybe I'm supposed to find his wife," she said, as they noticed the man was suddenly awake and aware of everything around him.

"Paul?" Regina asked, but he looked confused and they exchanged a glance.

"Who is Paul?" he asked.

"That's your name...do you remember anything?" Emma asked. He was silent for a moment, but could return nothing but a blank stare.

"I...I'm sorry, I don't know who I am. What happened? How can I not know who I am?" he asked in alarm. Regina put her hand on his arm.

"It's okay...you've been through a bit of trauma, but you're okay now and we'll figure this out," she assured, before pulling Emma aside.

"Amnesia?" the blonde asked. Regina nodded.

"After the trauma he went through, I'm not surprised. How did you wake him up?" she asked.

"I don't know...I just touched him. It must have been the Calling," Emma replied, with a shrug.

"Can you try with some of the others?" Regina asked.

"I guess…" Emma replied, as she touched Anton's arm, but there was no Calling and no change in Anton's vegetative state.

"Sorry…" she replied.

"It's okay...it was a long shot. The catatonia could be the body's way of forcing the brain to rest and rebuild neural pathways to heal them," Regina explained.

"Are you going to try to track down Paul's wife?" the doctor asked.

"That seems to be what the Calling wants. Can I borrow that file?" she asked. Regina nodded and handed it to her. She looked through it while she waited for the other passengers to arrive.

~*~

David and Margaret arrived at the Brownstone residence and pressed the doorbell. Soon, a woman that Margaret hadn't seen since she was twelve answered the door.

"Johanna Mason?" David asked.

"Yes?" she asked, as she looked at them and was definitely trying to figure out why his wife seemed familiar.

"My name is David Nolan...I was on the plane and this is my wife, Margaret," he said.

"You were on the plane?" she asked. He nodded.

"But that's not really why we're here," he replied, as he turned to his wife.

"My maiden name is Blanchard," she said, as she looked the woman in the eyes. Johanna gasped.

"Mary Margaret?!" she exclaimed, as she came out onto the porch and they hugged.

"My goodness...look how beautiful you are. I knew you would be...you were such a fair child," Johanna gushed, making her blush. David smiled and squeezed her hand.

"And David...you're the little boy that was always so smitten with her and picked all the snowdrops out of the garden," she recalled.

"I am and I'm still smitten," he said.

"Please...come in, both of you," she urged, as they stepped inside.

"How incredible is it that you were on the plane too?" she asked.

"It's quite the coincidence. My sister wanted to take the later flight, so I stayed behind with her and our son too," he explained.

"Oh my goodness...you lost all three of them?" Johanna asked.

"I did...but then I got a miracle and got them all back," Margaret replied.

"I'm so glad for you…" she said.

"My husband and I tried, but I'm afraid it just didn't work. I'm too different now he says...but I think it's because I know he's seeing someone else," she replied.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Johanna," Margaret replied.

"It's okay...I just moved here and I hope this can be a fresh start. But if you're not here about the plane...can I ask why you are?" she questioned. Margaret nodded.

"It's about my mother," she said.

"Eva?" she asked in confusion. Margaret nodded and showed her the article on her phone.

"I know that everyone told me that my mother had late stage cancer and died soon after...but this article suggests that her death was more sudden," Margaret said.

"No...your mother got sick and then she was gone," Johanna said quickly.

"Are you sure?" Margaret asked. Johanna looked at her for a moment.

"What...what are you asking me?" she questioned. Margaret sighed.

"I think...I think there was foul play," she said.

"Who...who do you think would want to hurt your mother?" Johanna asked. Margaret glanced at the article.

"The woman that, according to this article, was her longtime rival," she answered, as she watched the other woman's reaction.

"Oh...no, Cora and Eva barely knew each other," Johanna refuted.

"If this article is correct...then that's not exactly true. MM's father chose Eva over Cora," David interjected.

"You shouldn't believe everything you read in the newspaper. You know people love to gossip," Johanna chided.

"They do...but I don't think this is gossip and I think my father's wife did something to my mother. I need the truth, especially if she could be a danger to my family," Margaret said.

"Oh Mary Margaret...there is nothing for you to fear. Your mother's death was a sad tragedy, but there was no foul play," Johanna insisted.

"She hated my mother...and I have two children to protect from her," Margaret said.

"Sweetheart…" Johanna said.

"And a husband that I lost and just got back. I need to know what really happened to my mother," Margaret added.

"I'm sorry...but I can't help you," Johanna replied.

"Then you do know...you know what really happened," Margaret stated.

"I'm sorry...but you both need to leave now," Johanna said.

"What are you hiding?" Margaret demanded to know.

"Mary Margaret...please, please let this go," Johanna pleaded with her.

"Cora did something, didn't she?" the raven haired beauty asked.

"Let this go...and keep your distance from Cora Mills," she advised, as she showed them out quite abruptly.

"She knows what happened, David…" Margaret realized.

"It seems that way...but looks like we're going to have to keep digging without her," he said, as he kissed her forehead. She sighed and she rested her head against his chest, as he hugged her, just as his phone rang.

"Hey Regina…" he answered, as Margaret lifted her head.

"Uh yeah...we can come up there. See you soon," he said.

"Regina is asking the passengers that showed up at the hanger to come up to Glinda's beach house upstate," he replied, as he led her back the way they came to find their car.

"While we're there...I can ask Regina if she can dig up my mother's medical records," Margaret said. He nodded.

"It's a place to start anyway," he agreed.

~*~

Killian buttoned his shirt that morning. His injuries were nearly completely healed and though he was still off, he had decided to go into the office to do some paperwork that morning. He felt his wife wrap her arms around him from behind and immediately felt a stab of guilt. He loved Milah...but never had loved her the way he loved Emma. When he thought Emma was dead, it was easier to love and move on with Milah. But now that she was back...he found himself wanting the only arms around him to be Emma's. It was horrible and he hated himself for it, but that was how he felt.

"Are you sure you want to go into the office so soon? No one is expecting you to," she said. He smirked.

"I know...but the paperwork never stops. Worst part of the job," he replied.

"I beg to differ. You getting caught in an explosion is the worst part of the job," she said. He smirked.

"Touche," he agreed, as she pecked him on the lips and then slid her hands down his abdomen.

"You know...you could go in a little later and we could…" she said trailing off.

"I'm ovulating," she added. He took a deep breath. Before the plane, he had been ready for kids even before she was. It was a little odd actually since she told him she wanted to wait until she finished her degree in night school. But since Emma had gotten back...she was suddenly ready and very eager to have a baby.

"I wish I could...but I'm still not quite up to par. I need a little more time, I think," he said, pushing his reluctance off on his injuries.

"Yes…I suppose it's a little soon," she agreed, as she gave him a kiss. He sighed and finished buttoning his shirt. Guilt ate at him again and he couldn't get out of the house fast enough...

~*~

David parked their car at the beach house and they got out.

"Wow...this is quite a place," Margaret said, as they joined hands.

"No doubt...it reminds me of all those trips we took the kids on upstate," he said, looking at her fondly. She swooned at that.

"Oh me too...that little cabin in the Catskills when they were seven. That was such an amazing trip," she recalled. He smiled and kissed her tenderly, as they reminisced.

~*~

Eight Years Ago

Margaret looked out the snowy window, as she stood in the kitchen and watched her husband try to dig them out. They had rented this cabin and brought the kids here for a long weekend. It had been a ton of fun so far, but they were supposed to head back today.

"I think...we're going to have to call in sick tomorrow. There is no way we're getting out of here today," David said, as he came back inside. She left the pancake batter she was stirring and pecked him on the lips.

"Oh no…" she said, feigning disappointment and then giggled, as he pressed his cheek against hers.

"You're going to have to act more disappointed when you call your boss," he teased. She giggled.

"I can't help it...being snowed in with my family for an extra day just sounds like pure bliss to me," she said. He smiled and kissed her tenderly.

"Me too," he agreed, as the kids hurried out from their room and jumped on the couch to look outside.

"Wow!" Henry said.

"Are we staying an extra day?" Olive asked.

"We are…" David replied.

"Can we play in the snow?" Henry asked.

"Mmm...after breakfast. Go get dressed and wash up," Margaret replied, as they scampered off and they went back to making breakfast together.

~*~

"That was a really good day," she said. He smiled.

"It was...and now there can be so many more," he replied, as they went inside.

[nami-writes]

Bittersweet Reunion - Watch Dogs: Legion [WIP]

(can you tell i had no clue what to name this)

so i wrote this after i played wdl and finished the finding bagley mission bc i loved that there was a canon mlm pairing and i thought the whole meeting bradley thing was Incredibly unsatisfying so i did this and originally i was gonna have bagley and arthur get back together but then it started writing itself and bagley wouldnt date arthur bc that’d go against his morals and i was like shit thats not what i planned but also i realized it was in character so this is that disaster lmao

“I’m ready for the rest of my life, Arthur. And I want you to be a part of it.”

The sixth audio file ended with what sounded like a kiss, and Lindsey had to pause to take it in. Bagley had really had a life— a lover. A lover he had to leave behind.

“Arthur… I should remember more about him. But I don’t.”

It sounded so rushed, so nonchalant, that Lindsey knew better than to believe his tone and even Bagley himself knew it. Because, truth was, he was processing the same things Lindsey was and more. He really was damned to eternity, being a human turned AI and all, because now he was experiencing quite a lot of thoughts and certainly not enjoying it. Where was Arthur now? Did he still remember him? Did he miss him? Why was Bagley even wondering if his not-boyfriend still missed him?

Some part of his human half wondered if it’s possible to find Arthur again, meet the person his past self was so deeply in love with that now he found himself longing for him too.

“Sir—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Bagley was pulled out of the thoughts growing less and less artificial by the second as the next audio file began, already far more emotionally charged than the ones prior.

“These people are here to help you, Bags—”

“Don’t call me that!”

He’s snappish and frustrated and angry and current Bagley could almost feel it too. There’s more struggling as Bagley— past Bagley— seemed to be fighting someone off.

“She did this! Someone stop her!”

‘She’ must’ve been Skye Larsen, who else could it have been? He wanted to hope Natalie would listen— just listen, goddammit, this was all Skye’s fault, don’t you know what she’s done?— but he knew it was no use. They didn’t know. Natalie didn’t know. Not a fucking soul knew what she did to him.

“Don’t hurt him! He’s not usually like this!”

“Get out of my head! Get o—”

His voice died out as more noise played, then an unfamiliar voice called for an ambulance.

“Bags. Bagley. Bra—”

And it ended there.

“I’m assuming that ‘she’ was Skye Larsen,” he said to Lindsey. “Seems like the usual suspect where brain fuckery is concerned.” As controlled as he usually was, not even he could keep the slightest bit of anger out of his voice by the end of his sentence.

The next audio file began with a man explaining that Bagley had early on-set dementia, which intrigued him because it didn’t explain when exactly Skye got her hands on him. Then the sister from prior audio files spoke with that same strangely familiar voice, just as demanding as before. “You listen to me. I don’t care what it takes. No brother of mine is going to waste away in some hospital.”

Something was wrong. There was a piece missing somewhere between those memories and he had an idea of where it could be found.

Skygarden.

“Why do I have a feeling we’re not up here to reminisce?” The audio began as Lindsey snapped the last photo.

“Right. I’ve been thinking a lot about your epilepsy.” The sister. Of course. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she sounded awfully familiar, but not in a good way. In a this-person-has-the-same-name-as-my-primary-school-bully way.

“That’s nice. My doctors stopped thinking about it years ago. I had to give up so much because of it. Rowing, my mates, my…” A sigh followed after he trailed off and he had a feeling that that sigh replaced the word ‘boyfriend.’

“I’m sorry, Bradley.” Bradley. That name sounded familiar. Come to think of it, that must’ve been what Natalie called him in the seventh audio file just before it cut off. He supposed it sounded familiar because, well, it is— was— his name, but there was something more to it. He just couldn’t figure out what. He ran a quick search for Bradleys in London, but of course that left him with thousands of Bradleys and not a single clue as to how to filter out the useless ones.

“Wow. Look at you using my real name for once. I must be truly fucked.” Fucked was an understatement. How did he go from a human to nothing more than an AI? It wasn’t that he was unhappy as an AI, especially considering he worked for DedSec and they were wonderful, they really were, but to think he was once human…

“What if I told you I had something that could work?”

Something deep inside of him that vaguely resembled a computerized heart dropped at those words. He had a bad, bad feeling about this.

“Ha. Never knew you were funny.”

But Skye Larsen created him, didn’t she?

“I’m not. It’s a tech we’re developing. It’s early stages, but… have you ever heard of neural mapping?”

“No.” No, it couldn’t be.

“Here. Let’s go to my lab. I’ll show you.”

Who was this sister?

“Lead the way, Skye.”

And the audio ended.

“I was Skye Larsen’s brother.” It was strange to say out loud. “I’m Bradley. Bradley Larsen.” That was why she sounded so familiar. That was why Skye Larsen was his creator. Fuck. “Bradley Larsen…” He returned to his search for Bradleys and narrowed it down to one Bradley Larsen, brother of Skye Larsen, son of Sinead and Kevin Larsen. “I’ve found a room pre-paid through to April 4, 2040 under the name of Bradley Larsen— paid for by S. Larsen.” Skye.

“So you might still be alive,” Lindsey said. “Where’s the room?”

He checked his databases. “St. Pancras Hotel.”

And when she arrived, it was no less than what he expected, if less than what he wanted.

He left not quite satisfied.

But what else could he do? His father was gone and his mother and sister were dead. He checked his deep profiler and found Natalie through Bradley, but it seemed she was dead as well. And then— Arthur Jenkins, former spouse. 

“I think I’ve found Arthur from the sixth audio file,” he said. “Mind getting him for me?”

“Say the word, Bags,” Lindsey said.

He found his schedule and looked for his soonest outing. “He’ll be at Crosier & Cherry Tree at 8 PM.” There was a tinge of sadness in his voice at the location that they both decided to ignore.

He checked the rest of Arthur’s profile, too curious to resist. His photo was attached. To his surprise, Arthur was a curly-haired ginger. Apparently Bradley had known more people with no souls than just Skye Larsen. Age 29, worked as a bartender at Crosier & Cherry— that was why he’d be there. Associated with Melissa Phillips, friend; Natalie Walker, deceased friend; and Bradley Larsen, former spouse. Metadata… looking through it could’ve broken his heart if he had one.

He had countless searches involving dementia up until he was 28 and had hundreds of recorded visits to St. Pancras Hotel, Bradley’s room. Hundreds of visits that, when he accessed the records, seemed to just… stop. Daily-to-weekly visits simply vanished into none. Numerous phone calls to Skye Larsen that Bagley could only assume were angry and accusational because he was charged for harassment due to a complaint from Skye on the same day he stopped visiting.

He tried. He really tried, and then Skye fucked it all up like she always does.

“Bagley, I’ve found him.” He turned his attention to Lindsey’s Optik and, sure enough, he could see the ginger in the photo through the glass window. “Want me to bring him back to the Hackerspace?”

He considered it, but bringing him back would’ve meant involving the others. This was just a one-time thing. “No, just— could you get him somewhere I could talk privately with him?”

“Sure thing.” He watched as she entered the pub and approached Arthur at the counter.

“‘Ello, mate, what can I get for you?” he asked, uncannily cheery with a smile on his face. Something told Bagley this should’ve made him feel… something, but he felt not even a twinge of recognition from anywhere other than the photo on his digital profile.

“I’m here to talk to you, actually,” Lindsey said.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow and took a second to look her over a second time, his customer service smile fading into skepticism. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I know someone you do. Mind if we talk somewhere else?”

He shrugged. “S’pose not. Better get it on with, then, I’ve got to get back to work.”

Shit. Time was running out and they were already heading to a back room and Bagley hadn’t a fucking clue what to say so when he was cast onto the nearest unwatched telly before Lindsey left, all he could think to say was “Hello, Arthur.”

And then there was a silence where Bagley was internally cursing himself for being such a bloody idiot and Arthur looked like either he was about to drop to his knees in awe or he had shit himself. And then he broke the silence.

“Bradley?” His eyes were lit up with hope, hope Bagley knew he’d have to destroy because he wasn’t Bradley, not really. But he’d worry about that later.

“Oh, Gods, that’s going to be my version of Bradley’s stupid nickname, isn’t it? Though, if you ask me, Bagley is a perfectly good name,” he remarked. He had no idea how to properly handle a situation in which he was meeting the lover he had in a past life, so, naturally, he reverted to his usual self. Arthur was in love with him before, he can put up with him again.

Arthur chuckled, cracking a smile. “Now I know you aren’t Bradley. He hated that nickname.” He took another moment to comprehend what just happened. “But, really, how? How are you— what are you? What is” —he gestured vaguely at the TV screen— “this?”

“That’s a funny story, actually, see—”

“Bradley,” Arthur interrupted him, his smile turning solemn. “I’m serious. Last time I saw you, you were in a bloody wheelchair! What happened to you?”

There was another silence where Bagley tried to think of something ‘serious’ to say, but his actual response felt much more natural to him.

“Don’t call me that,” he said, a feigned grumble but unseen smile in his voice, “that’s not my name.”

And at that, not even Arthur could keep a straight face, but his smile didn’t last long. “Bags. Please. I need answers. I was so sure it was that bitch Skye— sorry, I know she’s your sister and all, but— I spent so long searching for ways to help you and trying to get her to fucking stop— you only ended up in the bloody hospital after she got involved and then she wouldn’t let me keep seeing you and I couldn’t—” His voice broke then and he had to pause, clear his throat and collect himself. “I’m sorry, I tried, I didn’t want to stop visiting. I really didn’t. I’m sorry.”

Bagley didn’t know how to tell him it was all in vain; Skye won in the end, she always did, and he didn’t even remember being Bradley or knowing Arthur at all. As far as he remembered, he’d only known Arthur for five minutes.

“Bagley?”

“It doesn’t matter.” There was no use in prolonging it.

“...What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated. “I’m not Bradley.”

“Are you mad? Of course you’re Bradley.’

“No, I’m not. Bradley is still in St. Pancras. I’m Bagley.”

Arthur gave a confused chuckle and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

“It was Skye,” he finally said. “It’s a long story, really, but in simpler terms, she tried to fix Bradley’s epilepsy through a process called neural mapping. It essentially separated his consciousness from his body, which gave him dementia and took my human body. I’m his consciousness, but I’m not him.”

Arthur didn’t respond. He seemed to still be processing what he’d just heard.

“And I’m sorry to say, but my memory was wiped not long after my creation. I don’t… remember anything about being Bradley.” He paused. Arthur knew what that meant, and he knew that his next sentence was going to confirm it. “I don’t remember anything about you.”

Arthur took far longer to respond than Bagley would’ve liked. “So you’re—” He stopped. “So Bradley’s really gone.”

“Unfortunately so.”

More silence. “Then why are you here?”

That was a good question, actually. Why was he here?

“I suppose I came to say goodbye,” Bagley said. “Give you some closure on Bradley, so you know what happened. I know you two were quite close.”

He scoffed. “Close is an understatement.” His voice softened. “We were going to get married,” he said. “At least, I think we were. If Skye hadn’t gotten involved— if I’d only had the time— I was going to propose. Had a ring in mind and everything. I’m fairly sure Bradley knew, too. I just wanted us to have that one thing before… before it was too late.”

Bagley had to take a second to let it sink in. In a past life, he’d almost gotten married. How much had he missed out on as a human because of Skye? His voice was solemn as he spoke, a first for him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Arthur offered no elaboration before something else seemed to cloud his mind. Silence seemed to be something both of them were good at. Bagley considered directly asking what was on his mind, but Arthur spoke before he could decide. “Can I ask something of you?”

“Ask away. I’ve only got the rest of my non-life.”

“...Could we try it again?” he asked, hesitation in his words. At Bagley’s confused silence, he uncrossed his arms, a willing show of vulnerability. “I mean, could we try… us, again? I know you don’t remember anything about me or Bradley and you’re not Bradley, I know that, but— maybe something good could come out of it. Maybe— maybe we could still have something.”

“You want us to…” He trailed off, thinking it over. By ‘something,’ he meant a relationship, but— could he be in a relationship? He was still an AI. He wasn’t Bradley. He wasn’t even attracted to Arthur. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he could feel attraction, if that was built into his operating system. Everything in him wanted to say no, it would never work out. An AI taking part in human affairs was a recipe for disaster.

“We could start from the beginning,” Arthur added, as if he knew what Bagley was thinking before he even said it. “I know you don’t really know me so we can start out just friends, nothing more. We can take it as slow as you want and if you decide there’ll never be anything more, we can just stay as friends if that’s what you’re comfortable with. But if you think there can be more, we can try that.”

It was tempting, but… Arthur was still human. And Bagley was not. “Arthur, I’m not sure I was made for this.”

“Then let’s find out,” he said. “I’m okay with anything you are.”

“No, I mean I’m not sure I was made to feel attraction. I believe that’s a fairly important part of relationships,” Bagley said with a hint of humor in the last sentence, though it disappeared by the next. “I’ve never felt that way toward anyone and I’m not sure you’ll be an exception.”

He sighed. “Bags. It doesn’t matter to me whether you like me as a friend or as a boyfriend. What matters is whether or not you’re comfortable with me. I didn’t fall in love with your attraction. I fell in love with you.”

“You fell in love with Bradley,” he corrected. “Not me.”

Regardless of how tempting the offer was and how curious he was to see the extent of his human capabilities, it’d only be an experiment. A trial run of a relationship with someone who was only willing because he was still attached to the person Bagley no longer was. It would be cruel to take advantage of Arthur’s hope for his own curiosity— no different from what Skye did to Bradley. He might’ve had his human body stripped from him, but he still had his humanity.

“Arthur, I’m not Bradley,” he said. “And I know it’s hard to accept, but I can’t be the person you want me to be.”

[geo-winchester]

Lucky

Summary: Yn and Poe meet after a night on a bar, she was knew on the city and he was sang on the same bar as her, after that he show her a little of the city.

A/N: hi! So first of all sorry for been a little absent second I king of inspire on the son of lucky of Jason Mraz and Ximena sariñana, I used that son for one of the parts but I think it can be what ever song you like, I hope you like!

—————————

Yn had been sitting on the bar for a long time, she feel how her hands sweat as she keep hearing at the singer on the stage, she’s been wanting to do this for a long time but she never got the guts to sing in front of an audience but after move to a different city and found that little bar she decide to give it a try, she wait until it was her turn, she gave a drink to her beer before she concentrate in the guy who was performing in that moment, his curl hair cover part of his face but she could see the little bear he had, she pay attention to the song and she recognizer, he was signing one of her favorite songs. As if he could feel her staring he look up and look her directly to her eyes as he give her a smile, for a moment she forgot about where she was and what she was about to do. When he was done with his song she take the last zip of her beer and made her way to the stage, the guy who finish was descending from the stage and wink at her.

-Break a leg- he said with a smile, but when she saw how nervous she was he stop for a moment -it helps if you picture yourself practicing- she nod.

-Thank you.

-Give it up for YN YLN- as she made her way to the piano she could hear the people applauding.

-Hi everyone my name is Yn and I think you’ll know this song- she said.

She take a deep breath before she start to play piano man on the piano, she could see the smile on the faces of the people on the bar when they recognized the song, she smiled when they join her on the chorus and for the most part of the song and when she was playing the final notes she could feel how fast her heart, the people cheer as she made her way down of the stage. She get back to her sit where the barman gave her a beer and congratulate her, she stay for a few hours before she decide it was time to go, before she start to walk trough the sidewalk, she hear someone coming to her.

-Hey- The guy from before get close to her.

-Oh hey, you’re the guy who sang before me, I like your song- she said.

-Thank you, I also like you... I mean your song- she smile.

-Thank you, I didn’t know if I was going to be brave enough to do it- she said.

-Well good thing you did it- he said -This was your first time?- she nod.

-Is that obvious?- he shook his head a little.

-I practically leave here and I never saw you before.

-Well I move here a few weeks ago and I saw the poster of free singers and I thought that I could try out- she said, he nod.

-So you don’t know the city, uh?- she shook her head.

-Not really only the way from my house and work- he nod again.

-Well... maybe you’ll like to see it with me?- she thought about it for a minute -I can show you the cheapest restaurant of the zone?- she finally nod making him smile, he took his guitar before start to walk down the road and she look at him confuse -we’re going to walk to it, good thing you didn’t bring the piano- he wink.

As they walk side by side, they talked about different things but mostly about the musics they like which was the music that make them fall in love in music, she didnt even pay that much of attention to where they walking, but he had something that she feels comfortable with him even in those moments when none of them say a word. When he stop she look around looking for a restaurant but she only saw a market and a few people coming in or out of the market.

-What are we doing here?- she asked.

-I told you I’ll bring you to the cheapest restaurant- he smile.

-And a market is the cheapest?- he nod while he kneel in front of the guitar case and take the instrument -Ok I’m lost here, know what are you doing?

-This is the best way to make money and we can buy what ever we want- he shrugged -you want to go first?

-Not really- he nod.

-I’ll do the first one, but if you don’t join me I’ll keep all the money for myself...

-And you going to let me starving to death?- he shrugged.

-That depends on you- he wink.

He start to play his guitar as he sings, the few people came and put some money on the case, she look at him, she like the way he sing and in some point he didn’t take his eyes from her making her blush, the people who stay to listen him applause when he was done, he took the money before he walk to her.

-30 bucks, do you thing you can do it better?- she laugh.

-Wow a little too competitive no?- he shrugged before he smile -If I’m being honest I think most of the people gave you money because you seen hungry- both of them laugh

-Is part of the act- he said -are you going to join me?- she look at him for a moment before she sighed.

-I really hate you- she said as she get up -If I get more money than you, you’re going to buy all the food by yourself- he smile and nod.

She took the guitar and slowly walk to the open case, she could feel how her body was shaking and with a deep breath she start to play the guitar, Poe recognized the song immediately she was about to sing but he start to sing the song making her smile, the people who was getting out of the market stop to listen to them but none of them where interesting about them, the only thing they care was them, they never stop seeing each others eyes, she blushed when they were done and he didn’t take his eyes from her, she turn to the case and take the money.

-the moment of the truth- she said and start to count the dollars- 27, 28, 29, 30 and... 31...

-That’s cheating! I help you with the song!

-Hey I didn’t told you to help me and a deal is a deal- she said.

-that song didn’t work for just one person!- she thought for a moment.

-Fine, I’ll help you to buy something- she said as she roll her eyes.

-Thank you!

Yn feel like a high school girl with the food he choice for them, a couple of sandwiches, some potatoes chips and a beer, but as they walk to the market choosing what they were going to eat she thought it’s been one of the best nights that she spend with a guy, she didn’t know what but he has something that made her want to stay for as long as she could.

-So what do you do for leaving?- he asked her as he set the food on a table outside of the market.

-I work on a music record- she said, Poe freeze for a moment but he relax when she start to laugh -Sorry, I’m kidding I just want to see your face- she laugh a little more -I worked for a little newspaper from my hometown.

-What changed?

-I don’t know, I felt that I was stuck on that place and that I was wasting my life because I was afraid of the change... so I come here for an interview about a month ago and when they call me that the job was mine I freak out... I mean what was I thinking, all my family, all my friends were there, how can I leave them... My mom was the one who make me come here, she told me that I wasn’t happy there and that I should follow what I think was the best for me.

-She sounds like an amaizing women

-She is- she smiled at the thought for her mother, then she look at him -and what about you? You always want to be a musician?

-meh... kind of, as you my mother make me follow this path but in a different way.

-How’s that?

-She died when I was 10 years old, but I remember her playing the guitar or singing to me so I could slept, she want to be a musician when she was younger and I think that inspired me, but my dad want me to be a doctor and I want to please him so I went to college I kept singing and playing for fun and before I knew I had to make a choice, to please my father or to follow what I want...

-And you follow your dreams...- he shook his head.

-I do this for fun, after a lot of thinking I realize that I didn’t want to be famous, the music was something I share with my mother, I felt that that was the way I could connect with her and I didn’t want to loose that...

-But it’s ok to sing in a bar?- he shrugged.

-Is like I had both of the things I like- he took a chip in to his mouth.

-Wait... so you could just pay for this? Why you make me sing?

-Because I didn’t know if I was going to see you again and I want to hear you, and I know that I would hear you again- he wink.

-You seem pretty sure about that...

Poe was thinking about the first time he met his wife, after a long day on the hospital the only thing he want to do was to get home and spend time with his family, but he didn’t know why he stay for a moment on a car looking at his weeding ring, it’s been a while since that night, and he thank his lucky star that he took that night free, after that day they become close pretty quickly, of course they fight for a few things but nothing they couldn’t fix, she was there when he become the surgeon chief just like he was there when she became the newspaper’s director. When he step inside of the house he could hear her humming on the living room, he walk to her and saw her carrying their little boy on her arms and smiled when he recognized the song she was humming, he hug her from behind and kiss her temple.

-Hey sweetheart- he said before he take the baby on his arms -Hey buddy- he said and put his other arm around her -Have I told you how lucky I am?

-You mention a couple of times- she said with a smiled, the baby move -I think he want you to play the guitar for him.

-He’s not even a year and he already love music.

-Well, that’s because you sang to him all the pregnancy- she said making him smile -How was your day?

-Hard- he said -I just want to come home and be with you.

-We missed you too- she said as she kiss his cheek.

-You know I should thank your mother more often.

-Why?-she asked.

-because she was the one to convince you to come here- he said and she blushed.

-Sometimes you’re a dork- she said.

-but I’m your dork.

-You’re damn right about that- she said, he look at her with surprise.

-You heard that little David? Mommy just said a bad word- he said.

-You’re the one who said a hundred of bad words in front of...- he make her stop with a kiss.

-I love you- he said.

-I love you too.

-Thank god to that because this could be ackward if you didn’t- she roll her eyes before both of them start to laugh.

-By the way I’m still going to complain about your bad language in front of our song- she said.

-I’m sorry I promise I won’t say a bad word from now on.

-Good, because I’ll hate that our son’s first word been fuck.

-How about shit, that would be useful- she hit him in the arm -ok no bad word in front of David- she nod in satisfaction as both of the cuddle on the couch -I really am lucky- he said before he kiss her.

[btsqualityy]

Amour Vincit Omnia / 29

Three days later, Akira was in Akeem’s hospital room, sat in a chair next to his bed. Her mother was on the opposite side of the bed in her own chair, knitting something that Akira didn’t know what and doing somewhat badly at it. 

“How’s that coming?” Akira asked and her mother looked up in surprise, smiling softly at her. 

“It’s a hat,” Tonya replied. “They had to cut Keem’s hair to do the surgery and he has a bald spot, which I know that he’s gonna be pissed about when he wakes up.”

“Yeah,” Akira nodded, biting her lip as Tonya’s attention went back to the knitting needles in her hands and a silence fell over them for a few seconds before Akira spoke up again. “I knew he was going.”

“Huh?” Tonya said as she looked up again, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“I knew that he was going to sneak out of the house on New Years,” Akira clarified. “I face timed him and he told me about it and I just told him to be safe.”

“Is that what’s been eating at you the past few days?” Tonya wondered and Akira nodded. “Despite the horrible circumstances, I knew that you were bothered by something more than just what happened to Keem.”

“I just keep thinking that if I had told you, then he wouldn’t left the house and then he wouldn’t be in this hospital bed, you know?” Akira sighed. 

“Kira, you and I both know that even if you had told me and I had grounded him or forbade him to leave the house or whatever, he would’ve gone anyways,” Tonya chuckled softly. “He’s his father’s child, in that sense. This whole thing is no one’s fault except for the person that pulled the trigger on the gun, alright?”

“Ok,” Akira nodded, giving her mom a soft smile. “Thanks Mommy.”

“Ah ah, don’t thank me yet,” Tonya tsked and Akira tilted her head at her in confusion. “What’s going on with you and Taehyung these days?”

“Nothing,” Akira shrugged. “You know what happened on Christmas and things between us have been the same since.”

“You two haven’t sat down and talked yet?”

“No. I mean, he tried on New Years but then you called to tell me about Keem and it kind of fell to the wayside.”

“Ah,” Tonya whispered. “Knowing you, it probably wasn’t going too great before I called anyways.”

“And how do you know that?” 

“You’re stubborn. Set in your ways like an ox, as my mama used to say,” Tonya laughed. “You’re also your father’s child in the sense that you don’t forgive people so easily, regardless if the person meant to hurt you or not.”

“Is that so wrong?” Akira grumbled, making her mother laugh even harder from how much of a child she sounded like.

“No, it’s not. In fact, I wish I was kind of like that. Would’ve saved me a lot of heartache in life,” she said. “But I think your anger towards the situation is putting you on extreme defense mode because you don’t ever want to have to go through that more than once.”

“Can you blame me?” Akira huffed.

“Again, no I can’t,” Tonya shook her head. “I understand you baby. I just think you should give the man a chance. I mean, he hasn’t left your side the past three days even though you haven’t been speaking to him much, at least from what I’ve seen.”

“He loves me,” Akira said, although it almost came out as more of a question. “That’s what you do when you love someone.”

“But remember, you’re the one who put the relationship on a break so he’s not obligated to be here supporting you at all,” Tonya pointed out. “So, stop being stubborn for once in your life and go talk it out.”

“But Keem,-” Akira tried to say but Tonya shook her head firmly.

“I’ll come get you if he wakes up and you know that,” Tonya assured her. “Now go.”

“Ok,” Akira relented, lifting herself up from her chair and walking out of the hospital room. She paced down the short hallway to the waiting room, where Cassie and Yoongi were sitting, watching an old black and white movie on the tv.

“Hey, is he up yet?” Cassie asked as she saw Akira walking into the waiting room.

“Not yet,” Akira shook her head. “Did Taehyung leave?” Since arriving in Michigan, all of Akira’s friends had been staying at her mom’s house which is where Jin, Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin, and Jungkook currently were.

“He stepped out in the hallway to take a call,” Yoongi told her and Akira nodded before walking back into the hallway. Once she did, she almost ran literally right into Taehyung.

“Hey, everything alright?” He asked, eyeing her closely and she nodded. “Is Akeem up?”

“No, not yet,” she replied. “I wanted to know if you wanted to talk maybe.”

“Do you think it’s the best time for that?” He wondered.

“We need to,” Akira said and he nodded hesitantly. She motioned her hand and he followed behind her as she walked down the hall until they found an empty waiting room. They both walked inside, Akira taking a seat on the couch as Taehyung gingerly sat down on the arm of the same couch.

“I want to start,” he said immediately and Akira nodded, giving him permission to go ahead. “I just want to say that I’m so sorry about what happened on Christmas. You were right when you said that I should’ve stuck up for you and I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you?” She asked and Taehyung just sighed heavily. “Please be honest with me Tae. I do want to fix all of this but I need to understand in order to even start to do that.”

“Alright, alright,” he relented, taking a deep breath before exhaling. “So, you know how my relationship with my uncle is complicated.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, when I was a kid, I was a big trouble maker. That’s actually how I met Yoongi hyung, we used to spray paint buildings and stuff together.”

“What? Yoongi never told me that,” Akira murmured.

“There’s a reason for that. By the time that I was 17, I had been arrested for vandalism and a bunch of other petty shit at least 10 times. The very last time that I was arrested, they got both me and Yoongi and they were ready to send him to prison and send me to a juvenile detention hall.”

“Over vandalism?” Akira questioned and Taehyung nodded.

“That was a part of it, but it was mostly because of the fact that I was considered a habitual offender,” he clarified. 

“And they were gonna send Yoongi to prison because he was older?”

“Yep,” Taehyung nodded. “But my uncle was still active with Vantae so he was really well known. He was able to pull some strings and Yoongi and I both walked away with our records expunged.”

“That’s crazy,” Akira sighed. “No offense, but your uncle doesn’t seem like the type to want to help his family out.”

“He’s not,” Taehyung chuckled. “At the time, my uncle had cancer and you know how people have those ‘epiphanies’ about all the people that they’ve ever wronged when something bad happens to them?” He said and Akira nodded. “That’s basically what he was doing when he helped us out. He’s always treated my mother and father like shit so him helping us was out of guilt.”

“What about everything afterwards?” Akira wondered.

“A few months after that, I turned 18 and my uncle asked me to take over Vantae for him since he was going to be stepping down because of the cancer. He said that taking over a thriving company like Vantae would be a lot better than going to art school and struggling to make ends meet. I felt like I owed him so I agreed.”

“You were a baby,” Akira whispered sadly.

“Yeah and turns out, Vantae wasn’t thriving the way that he had made it seem. It was badly in debt from how horribly he had managed it and investors didn’t want to touch it with a 10-foot pole, which I wasn’t aware of until I had already become CEO. I didn’t want to fail though and disappoint him or my parents or even the rest of my family, so I put my nose down and worked my ass off to get Vantae to where it is now.”

“I’d think that your uncle would respect you a little more than he actually does, given how you saved Vantae,” Akira mentioned.

“Ha, if anything, he resents me for doing what he wasn’t capable of,” Taehyung chuckled ruefully. “When his cancer went into remission, he tried multiple times to get back onto the Board of Directors but I convinced them to vote no on it.”

“Ok so I understand all the backstory now but I guess I’m still wondering why you didn’t stick up for me,” Akira said. “I mean, he’s not on the Board of Directors and he’s not involved in Vantae in any way anymore. It’s not like he has anything over you.”

“He does though. The whole ‘expunged record’ thing,” Taehyung said. “He literally bribed police officers and judges. I don’t know if you know, but that’s illegal.”

“You wouldn’t get in trouble for that though, he would.”

“Legally, no I wouldn’t but in the press?” Taehyung exhaled sharply. “I’d get crucified. If investors and the public found out about my past, I’d lose everything and Vantae could go under.”

“But why does that matter? It was petty shit, it’s not like you committed murder or something,” Akira laughed. “Hell, Donald Trump has sexually harassed women and some dumb asses still elected him president.”

“It’s different in Korea, Kira,” Taehyung muttered. “Public figures aren’t so easily forgiven there, if they’re forgiven at all.”

“So you’re just gonna let him dictate the rest of your life?” Akira questioned. “That’s no way to live.”

“Kira, Vantae is my life,” Taehyung confessed. “The way that I became CEO is fucked up, yes but I have put my blood, sweat, and tears into Vantae and I won’t let it be torn down.”

“Damn it Tae,” Akira huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Are you mad at me still?” He asked hesitantly.

“Not really mad, more so frustrated,” she corrected. “Even then, I’m more frustrated with myself because I fucking get it.”

“You do?” He gasped in surprise and Akira nodded.

“When you’ve spent years investing your all into anything, you’re not gonna want to let it go so easily,” Akira said. “I really wish you would’ve just explained all of this to me sooner though. I wouldn’t have wasted time being so angry at you.”

“You had the right to be angry though,” Taehyung pointed out. 

“Regardless, I’m sorry for going to extremes. Life is clearly way to short to spend unnecessary time being mad,” she replied. 

“I forgive you,” he smiled softly. “So, where do we go from here?”

“Well,-” she started to say but she was cut off by the door to the waiting room slamming open and her mom rushing in.

“Kira, he’s awake!” Tonya exclaimed and Akira didn’t waste any time jumping up and running behind her mom to Akeem’s hospital room, with Taehyung following closely behind. When she reached the doorway, Akira watched Akeem turn his head slowly and give her a small smile.

“Hi sissy,” his raspy voice called and tears immediately began to flow down her cheeks as she rushed over to the bed and grabbed his hand.

“Keem,” she sobbed and she felt him squeeze her hand lightly. “I’m so glad that you’re up.”

“Is it weird that I’m still sleepy?” He whispered, making both Akira and Tonya laugh as Akira shook her head.

“You’ve been through a lot over the past four days,” she responded. 

“Right, it’s completely understandable baby,” Tonya assured him. 

“You better not ever scare me like that again,” Akira warned him and Akeem smiled again.

“I’ll do my best not to,” he promised. Akira then leaned over into the bed, giving him a gentle hug and kissing his forehead. While Tonya moved to do the same thing, Akira looked over her shoulder towards the door, where Taehyung was standing and watching them silently.

“Thank you,” she mouthed quietly and he just smiled and nodded his head before stepping away from the doorway to give them some privacy.

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area

Warning: Not explicit (yet); some mild language. This has been quite cathartic in a way.

Summary: 29-year-old nurse Sarah Bernette has worked hard to get where she is. Moving to Boston from a nowhere dump of a town, she’s studied hard and is grateful her stress is finally paying off. Despite being fostered repeatedly throughout her childhood, she’s since found some comfort in the form of her adopted parents, Jocelyn and Noah, and a pseudo-adoptive family of sorts in form of the Evans clan who have treated her as one of her own ever since she moved in with best friend, Shanna. Valuing them above all else, she appreciates their support even more when her long lost birth mother decides to reappear in her life after so many years, and is surprised to find out just how supportive Chris is in particular. As she struggles to maintain a firm grip on both her professional and private lives, she finds an ill-advised solace in her growing mutual attraction with him but how long before everything unravels and threatens to pull the rug out from underneath her?

Note: I have two chapters written and will post ‘Chapter Two’ at some point this weekend to get things moving. I apologise for my spelling/grammar errors. Let me know if there is something wildly incorrect here and I’ll change it. Still figuring out a few things and I expect this will be a slow burn but it’s exciting to finally get off my arse and…sit down and write. 

CHAPTER ONE

Today was probably a 4 out of 10.

4.5 if she was feeling generous.

Sarah thought about the decisions she had made in the past decade that lead her right to this moment, this moment being cleaning neon-coloured vomit off her scrubs for the second time in the past hour.

“You would think people would have learned downing shots of Absinthe was not a great idea by the time they’d left their teens,” snickered Audrey before shooting her a sympathetic look and handing over another wipe. “I can’t believe how green it was. It looks like you got punked by the Marshmallow Man!”

“Thanks for that.” Sarah was scrubbing as hard as she could while internally questioning her decision to pursue Nursing all those years ago. Her History teacher once told her she could have “a decent stab” at becoming a Middle School teacher if she applied herself right. Right now, she could be knee-deep in teaching half-interested kids about the 27 Amendments without an ounce of sick in sight. Instead, she was baffled. “Fuck. It’s practically luminous…”

This must have been payback for pushing herself as a teenager. Being fostered in and out of care homes during your formative years could turn you one way or the other, and Sarah chose “the other”. She was sure the universe was telling her she should have stayed put and been happy with her lot in life, in her too-small town with no feasible job prospects, where everyone knew you and held that against you, instead of moving halfway across the country with next to no money to study at a University she couldn’t afford and would most likely be in debt to for the next twenty years. Now, however, she got to convince local drunks that climbing on to roofs was, in fact, not a great idea despite the bet they had made with their “friends”. On a good day, she got to help children pick out the colours for their plaster casts. 

Or take today. Today, she got to lecture a group of young people about the trials and tribulations of playing “run the bus” with 60% proof. Every day was just a little bit different so as to keep things interesting. That, she reminded herself, was something she had to remain glad about.

She sighed and threw the last wipe in the bin. Taking a last look in the mirror, she turned to her friend for reassurance that she looked at least passable. She caught her frown before Audrey realised Sarah could see her and quickly gave her a thumbs up. She did love her Audrey which is why she decided to repay her kindness by forcing a hug on her as a thank you.

“Silver lining, though,” Audrey said, shoving her away, laughing in protest. “You’re lucky you didn’t get any in your hair.”

“Yeh bastards had a good aim at least.” Sarah dusted down her arms one last time to check for anything she might have missed and the two of them left the locker room. The place was now eerily quiet, thank god. Just run out the clock and they’d be home and dry in no time, figuratively speaking in Sarah’s case.

Audrey placed a comforting arm around her pal. “You want me to find some spare scrubs? I’m sure they’ll have some upstairs. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Nah it’s OK. I’ll be done in 20. Just gotta sign Mr. Richardson out from cubicle 5 then I’ll run home and shower.”

“OK, well, if you have to hang around, avoid triage because you-know-who is there and I don’t want you ruining your chances again.” Audrey pinched Sarah on her hip and headed back to her work.

You-know-who was Greg Anderson, an attractive 30-something medic from a hospital on the other side of town. He was up-and-coming in Paediatrics apparently and had been shadowing a Consultant for the past few weeks. He was 6ft plus with dark hair and brown eyes and his father was something big in Economics in MIT. He drove a Porsche and wore Louboutin’s on his rounds which had Audrey practically foaming at the mouth. Indeed, he hadn’t bypassed the attentions of the majority of females in the ER, as well as a few men and even a couple of patients but as always, Sarah was solely focussed on the job at hand to pay him any heed. Audrey thought she caught him staring at her the other week, though, and made it her mission to set them up. She took great pride in playing matchmaker for her friend given that she herself got locked down nine years earlier and “it’s a damn shame to let these skills go to waste.’ She had somehow also managed to get Shan and Lisa onside, too, however that had happened.

Greg was handsome, she’d agree with that, and definitely her type in the right light but something was a little too Republican for her liking. Plus, he was a Rangers’ fan and Sarah swore blind early on in her life that she couldn’t bring children up in that kind of hostile environment. Sarah briefly contemplated walking past triage with the lingering scent now clinging to her clothes but as Audrey kindly repeated to her at regular intervals during the days, Greg was her only realistic prospect right now and figured it was perhaps better to keep her options open, at least for the time being.

Mr. Richardson was gone pretty soon afterwards and, accepting defeat for another day, Sarah grabbed her bag and headed home.

*

There was definitely beer left in the fridge, she was sure of it. She’d bought a six-pack at the weekend and could only remember drinking two during the Bruins’ game, so…

“Oh yeh, you’re out of beer.” 

Sarah turned around from the fridge to face a sheepish looking Chris holding the last frosted bottle in his hand, his ball cap low over his face attempting to hide the faint black circles under both his eyes. There was a 5 o’clock shadow forming now he wasn’t required to shave. As drained as she was, she briefly contemplated wrestling him to the ground for that last swig. He looked just as tired. She figured she could take him. At least he had the decency to look guilty about it.

“I’ll run out and get you some if you…Jesus! Why do you smell like a brewery?!” He practically recoiled holding his free hand to his nose.

Sarah rolled her eyes and grabbed a glass for some cold water instead. “Are you here to just annoy me or steal my beer as well?”

“Both now you ask but seriously, what have you been doing all day? You don’t usually smell this bad.” He joked.

“Oh, some kids took it in turns to throw up on me and I didn’t have any clean scrubs to change into.” She downed the water and went to fill the glass up again. God, she didn’t realise she was this dehydrated. Chris shot her a look of confusion. “It’s a long story. Is Shan around?” She shed herself of her scrub top and headed into her bedroom down the hallway, Chris casually following behind.

She had to pop out for something so I’m just handing here ‘til she gets back. You coming for dinner at Ma’s? She’s doing her famous lamb roast. Might wanna shower first, though.” He joked, playfully sticking his tongue out at her.

“God, I forgot how hilarious you are.” she overtly rolled her eyes at him. “No, I’m good. Just gonna head for an early night, I think.”

“OK, well, if you change your mind, we’re leaving in half an hour. You know she’ll make me drive back to get you otherwise.”

That was true. For as long as she’d known and lived with Shanna, Lisa had treated her like any other member of her family and Sarah had never fully grasped how much she had appreciated it, coming from where she did. Lisa knew Sarah’s folks weren’t as close by any more and compensated for this by inviting to every dinner night she held, every games night, school events, theatre events, and more besides. She spent Christmases with them, visited Disney with them, and had New Years with them on occasions she wasn’t working. Lisa even organised a surprise birthday get-together for her as well despite Shan’s protests that she wasn’t a birthday kind of person. Sarah had learned to stop feeling awkward or out of place soon after.

Once Shan told Lisa Sarah had wanted to start learning to play piano as a new year’s resolution, Lisa had insisted she could teach her whenever she had some spare time. There soon after followed afternoons of tea and gossip and not much playing of the piano but it felt comfortable and nice for the first time in a long time. Shan would make excuses so Sarah didn’t feel obligated to attend everything but in truth, she didn’t mind so much. It was nice to feel wanted.

Chris was lounging on her armchair with one leg over the armrest, messing on his phone. Sarah could count the number of times on one hand the nights he had spent in his own place since returning to Boston a fortnight ago. As true as it was that he rarely spoke about filming in any great detail, she could nevertheless tell he’d been left particularly drained by this particular experience and wasn’t looking forward to the reshoots scheduled for next month. There had been a rumour he’d started sleeping with his married co-star and she guessed Lisa had been mithering him about it hence him turning up on their doorstep last week. Other than one night back in his own bed, he had remained on their sofa ever since, clearly relishing in the familiar company.

“So what made those kids throw up?” Chris called out, still engrossed in his phone. A quick glance over his shoulder told her he’d been ignoring someone’s text messages.

By now Sarah was in her old yet comfy sweatpants and a Boston hoodie Shan had bought her as an anniversary present of her 5th year living there. “Um, Absinthe. The nasty kind.” She was gathering her washing together.

Chris whistled low through his teeth, a kind of “been there, done that”.

“Rookie mistake.“ he laughed to himself. He frowned at his phone before chucking it onto her bed and turned around in her chair to plant both feet on the carpet, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. He looked like he wanted to get something off his chest but was struggling to find the words. He was reluctant to drag Sarah into anything given how exhausted she looked. Despite their differences in careers, sometimes it felt like she was the only person he knew who could understand how long and tiresome the days could get. Then he would inevitably feel embarrassed he was out there only pretending to save lives when she was out there day after day actually living it for real in all of its bloody glory. And for a tiny fraction of his pay. He tried not to water than thought too much.

“I take it you know,” he asked quietly, still not looking up from her bedroom floor.

“Know what?”

“About Jenny?”

“Oh,” she paused for a brief second. He’d know straight away she was lying if she tried to play dumb. “I mean your mom might have mentioned something in passing,” she shrugged unconvincingly. He scoffed knowing she would have talk about nothing else since the rumours started gathering pace online. He knew he hadn’t done himself any favours by avoiding the conversation either but he simply couldn’t stand another lecture of disapproving look. Dinner tonight was to be his mea culpa.

Sarah was thankful when she heard the front door go and then the sound of Shan dropping her bags in the kitchen and heading towards Sarah’s room.

“I signed for this for you this morning while you were out.” she handed Sarah a brown envelope before turning to Chris with a hand on her hip, looking like she was scolding her 7-year old nephew. “Mom’s been trying to get hold of you all day. She wasn’t sure if she needed to lay an extra seat for you this evening. Sarah, she wanted me to make sure I couldn’t persuade you to come as well?” Sarah shook her head and held up her stained clothes and enjoyed Shan’s visible flinch.

“I’m not even going to ask.” She held her hands up and walked out. Chris rolled his eyes in mock imitation of Shan and Sarah smiled sympathetically, mouthing a “good luck” to him as he left trailing behind her.

Sarah was left looking down at the envelope in her hands. It looked very official; the kind you would receive if you’d been summoned to a court hearing or Jury Duty. She didn’t recognise the address or the stamp but recognised her home town almost straight away. It had been years since she’d been there. Why the hell were they dragging her back now?

*

[axwalker]

Meet my MC: Alexis O’Brien

Thank you for the ask @mskaneko  .  This was so fun!! I got a little carried away...  🙈

Thank you for the tag @debramcg1106​ ❤️

Alexis’s life changes deeply in every AU so I used my canon Alexis to answer these questions. 

1. Name (+ bonus why did you choose that name?)

Alexis O'Brien.  I've always liked the names 'Jade' and 'Alexis.' The last name was a momentary inspiration because I love Ireland.

2.    Faceclaim

The beautiful Valerie Dominguez (aka my on-line girlfriend)

3.    Nicknames

O’Brien / Lexie/ Lex/ Blossom.  

4.    Birthday

April 30th (I headcanon that she's 23 when the Social Season starts.)

5.    Height

She's 1,70 cm (5'57")

6.    Eye color

             Brown

7. Hair color

           Light brown

8.    Love interest (why did she choose this person?)

Drake Walker is the love of her life. Alexis felt deeply attracted to Drake since she met him. Something about the deep voice, the chocolate eyes, and his strong arms. When they started to spend time together, she realized how much they had in common. Their connection quickly became a solid friendship as they confided in each other while drinking whiskey together after every event of the social season. Alexis fell for Drake's sarcastic sense of humor, flirty banter, and intelligence. But her favorite thing about him is his fierce protectiveness and how he tries to act tough and brooding around everyone except for her. Now that they're married, they form an exceptional, unbreakable team.

9.    Best friend

Olivia Nevrakis and Maxwell Beaumont.

10. Personality traits

Alexis is a free-spirit. She's idealistic and passionate about her beliefs. She's very kind and generous, but once her trust is lost is very difficult to get it back. She's adventurous, loves to travel, and has surprised Drake more than once with last-minute weekends and trips. She's very competitive, she and Drake play all the time. She loves books and writing; ancient libraries are her happy place. She's very disorganized and unpunctual. Her head is on the clouds, and she always forgets her keys, or where she parked her car. Her emotions are powerful, she feels everything very intensely.

She's fiercely protective of Drake and her children and would kill for them if necessary.

11. Family background

She's half Mexican, half Irish American.

Her parents, Elena Ortiz and George O'Brien, met in High School. After a five-month relationship, Elena got pregnant. As they both came from an extremely religious background, they got married.

George turned out to be an abusive, rigid, sexist husband. They wasted 10 awful years together, but one morning George left Elena for his assistant and never came back. He has a son with his new wife and rarely sees Alexis. She tried to have a relationship with him until she realized the kind of man her father is.

Alexis grew up happily with her mom and widow grandmother. They had a small Mexican Fonda in Brooklyn.  When Alexis turned 18, her mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died only six months later. Her grandmother passed away two years later from an aneurism.

She has a deep-rooted abandonment issue.

12. Hometown

Brooklyn, NY.

13. Education

She has a degree in English Literature. She sold her family's small restaurant and got a job as a waitress to be able to afford a small college in NY. When she met the guys, she was working three different jobs so she could save money to study a master's degree in Literary Translation.

14. What languages does she know?

Alexis is bilingual in English/Spanish and speaks good French. Her French teacher in high school was a sort of mentor for her. She loves languages, so now that she lives in Cordonia, she's trying to learn Greek too. Drake is a great teacher 😉

15. Occupation

Before flying to Cordonia, Alexis gave private Spanish lessons to kids, worked as a waitress at the dive bar where she met Drake, and, on the weekends, she worked as a bartender at an Irish Pub.

In Cordonia, she was the Duchess of Valtoria for a while, but after two hellish years, she and Drake left the 'noble' life. With Drake's support, she went back to school in Cordonia and got her master's degree. For the moment, she works as a Literary Translator, but eventually, she will become a writer.

16. Dream job

Her dream is to write children's books. Her absolute personal hero is J.K. Rowling.

17. Hidden talent

Dancing. Alexis doesn't hide it, though. Dance is her passion, especially Latin music.

She has a superhuman resistance to alcohol. Irish genes.

18. Her strengths

She's hardworking.

She’s determined. 

She's empathic.

She can make friends easily.

19. Her weaknesses

She's very disorganized.

She's stubborn and doesn't forgive easily.

She's highly emotional, which can be a source of anxiety and stress.

20. Pet peeves

People who are rude to waiters or any other person in the service industry. She can't stand it under any circumstance.

People who cut lines.

21. Guilty pleasure

Mexican soap operas. Alexis used to watch them with her mom and grandma, and now she's addicted. Sometimes, she convinces Drake to watch one with her; he needs to practice his Spanish anyway.

22. Ideal outfit

In the summer, she loves wearing short, flowy dresses with leather, flat sandals.

In the winter, cozy jumpers, skinny jeans, and low black boots.

23. Favorite season

Fall. The colors, the soft sun rays, the crispy atmosphere, the smells. Everything about it.

24. Favorite vacation spot

Ireland, her grandfather’s country. He used to tell her a lot of stories about it when she was a child, when she finally went she absolutely loved it. 

25. Celebrity crush

Michael Fassbender

26. Who is her inspiration

Her mom. Elena was a single mother, but she never felt sorry for herself. She worked hard at her restaurant all day, then studied at night to get her college degree on-line. She loved life and was protective and generous. Alexis has never really got over her death.

27. Whats is the craziest thing she has ever done?

She took a plane with two strangers to a country she had never heard of before.

28. Describe her dream date

A late-night picnic under the stars with a good bottle of whiskey, some cheeses, and Drake. In a very secluded, private place.

29. What's more important for her in a relationship: physical attraction or emotional connection?

Both. The physical attraction is what first drew her to Drake. They're profoundly attracted to each other, and that sort of electrical, physical connection is very difficult to find. After years together, they still can't keep their hands off each other, and it has always been helpful when they're going through a rough patch.

The emotional connection is what makes them happy and crazy in love. They trust each other, make each other laugh, and they're best friends. What they share is unique, and they're aware of it.

30. Three things she would take to a desert island

Things, not people? Ok:

Her first copy of 'One Hundred Years of Solitude.' A gift from her mom.

Her illustrated collection of Harry Potter's books, a gift from Drake.

Her family album with her children's pictures and gifts (cards, letters and drawings.)

31. What is one thing she could never forgive?

Cheating. Never. But she has nothing to worry about 

32. What gets her out of bed in the morning?

Sex with Drake, one of her children crying, strong, black coffee.

33. What does she use more often: her intuition or logical reasoning?

100% intuition

34. Would she rather be alone doing something she enjoy, or doing something she does't like with her best friends?

Difficult question. She loves reading and writing, which are 'alone' activities. But she'll do something she hates for her friends if they really want to.

35. What's her biggest regret?

Accepting the Duchy of Valtoria and making her child the heir. She got out of it, but there were terrible years.

Bonus: three random facts about your MC

She was arrested once while she was in a protest for Women's Rights

She LOVES to eat. Passionately. 

She loves big dogs. They have one Labrador and one Golden retriever.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

The Difference: Part 1

Pairings: Mark Sheppard x Reader

Warnings: None??? Swearing must likely...

Word Count: 3204

A/N: So I’m back..... IDK Im outta shape on posting here, y’all.... hope you enjoy it, OK?

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

In your opinion, first dates were literally the worst, but with a very involved Greek mother and grandmother, a large, extremely loud group of Italian aunts on your father’s side, and a persistent twin sister, you didn’t have a choice but to go on them. Because God forbid you say no. That two letter word was like a grenade in your household. Your mother, who you currently lived with because you were a single mother, would instantly start praying for your soul before calling your sister to pray with her as well. Your father, who was a giant instigator no matter how much he denied it, would head upstairs to ‘stay out of it’, have a brief conversation with his mother, and the phone tree would be instantly activated. Within a matter of minutes, you had your Nonna and eight aunts in your room, reminding you once again, that a single mother of four quadruplet boys, needed a man in your life. 

So you simply went on the dates, used your one year olds as a ‘you don’t want me because I’ve got a lot of baggage’, and left before the waiter could even take your drink order just to sit in your car for an hour in silence. It wasn’t that you didn’t love being a mother. Shit, your boys made you a better person every single day. But there were four of them, and they were all a little over a year old now. And while you were so fortunate that they were all healthy babies, your second son, Luca, was born with Down Syndrome. Even with all the help your immediate and extended family gave you every single day, you still felt like you were drowning in dirty diapers and doctors appointments most days. 

“You’re Mark?” You asked, dismissively as you stopped beside the chair the hostess had pointed out to you in Fogo de Chāo, one of your favorite Brazilian steakhouses, and took off your jacket. He looked up at you and nodded his head once as you sat down and took a deep breath. “Alright, I’m sorry you wasted your time in coming all the way here. I’ll make this quick. I’m 29, single… obviously… I work as a contract linguist for Homeland Security in the Pentagon, and I’m the mother of quadruplets that are fourteen months old and who have no father. So, while you process that, I’m going to drink my water and then head out because usually by the time that information sinks in, men tend to either get a surprise phone call or they have to run to the bathroom only to never come back. I don’t give a shit one way or another. Again, sorry you wasted your time.” You picked up your water glass and took a long swig as your date stared at you and blinked a few times.

“Quadruplets…” He said in a British accent you weren’t expecting as you grabbed your jacket off the back of your chair. “That’s four, correct?”

“Correct.”

“What’s the gender split?” You actually froze with your arm in the sleeve and looked over at him, unbelievingly, because he was the first date to actually ask that question.

“Excuse me?”

“Four boys? Four girls? Mixture of both?” It was your turn to blink a few times in shock as you let your arm fall to your side.

“Four… boys. Do you actually give a damn, or are you just trying to get laid, here?” A huffed chuckled bubbled up from his throat as he picked up his napkin, and laid it across his lap.

“I’m genuinely curious. And I happen to be gentleman, thank you. I am a firm believer in the third date rule.”

“Oh, are you now?” You laughed as you took off your jacket again and draped it over the back of your chair. “You’re that cocky you think you’ll get to a third date with women?”

“Not in the least. I believe the accent alone gets me to the third date and I was raised to respect women.”

“So waiting until only the third date is respectful?”

“I never specified the length of time between dates, darling. This could be date one, but between now and date two, we could have lunch half a dozen times at work, since we both work for the Pentagon.”

“Those are dates.”

“Those are not dates.” He corrected as he got up to start with the appetizer bar in the center of the dining room. “I never said I’d pay for your lunches.”

“Oh, you’re slick.” You giggled as you got up to follow him. “You’re real slick.”

“I try.” He chuckled. “So a linguist, huh? What language?”

“Greek and Italian.”

“Wow. And.” He said as he looked over at you, impressed. “Two languages?”

“Since I was born. See, my mother is Greek. She moved to this country when she was two years old with her twin, my Yaya, and my Papou. So she speaks both Greek and English. Now my father is from Italy. He’s the oldest and he has eight sisters. Huge family. My Nonna and my Nonno moved to the states before my dad was born but, like my mother, he speaks two languages. So when my twin sister, Emma and I were born, it became a battle with my grandparents on which language we spoke. So we speak both fluently.”

“See, I’ve worked with your sister before.” He commented as he waited for you to finish with the salad bar. “She did some translating for me at the request of Ben…”

“Oh, so are you a lawyer with Ben?” He nodded his head as he set his plate down in his spot and pulled your chair out for you.

“I do have quite a few years on him but yes, we are colleagues.”

“Oh what, like ten, maybe?”

“You’re generous.” He breathed as he took the seat beside you and flipped his card over. “I’ve been with the NSA for nearly thirty years… and don’t point out your age here. Emma thinks it’s hilarious to point it out every time she comes into the office to visit with young Benjamin.”

“She’s a bitch.” You said with a nod as you ripped a piece of cheese bread with your fingers and popped it in your mouth. “You get used to it.”

“Now, are you two fraternal twins? Because you look nothing alike…”

“You know, it’s funny you ask.” You sort of mumbled around your bite, which you swallowed quickly. “We’re identical. But it’s like fifty fifty on who can see it. My mom couldn’t tell us apart to save her life, but my dad has no issue. Half my aunts can tell, half can’t. Our boss can, Ben can half the time but I think he cheats, you can obviously tell. My sons are an even split, too.”

“Are any of them identical?” You nodded and let out a small sigh, taking a minute to take a drink of water for a break.

“Two of them are.” You started as you looked over at him, knowing that this was the second hurdle to get over with dates. “My youngest, Theo and Thomas. Evan and Luca are fraternal. And just like me and my sister, it’s fifty fifty on who can tell them apart. My mom can and she’s super proud of that.”

“I know you have photos.” He said as he nodded at the waiter that was making his round with a skewer of hot, top sirloin.

“Oh, I have thousands.” You confirmed as you, too, agreed to some top sirloin while pulling your phone out of your purse. “But… just…” You sighed the slightest bit and lit up the screen of your phone. “Sorry, I’m protective.”

“I already know.” He nearly whispered as he put his hand on yours over the phone as the screen went dark again. “Ben has an old photo of them on his desk. When he suggested this date, he told me you’d be stand-offish to protect them, and he gave me a very brief reason why. It doesn’t scare me, darling. Your strength just makes me even more fond of you.” You looked up at him and nodded your head with a hint of tears in your eyes.

“Evan is the oldest.” You started as you lit up the screen again and laid your phone flat on the table. “He is my trouble maker. That little man can get into everything and anything in the blink of an eye. Then Luca is next. He’s my little miracle; I almost lost him twice in the NICU but he is such a fighter. I can’t tell you how many times people said I should have terminated him because he has Down syndrome. But he has taught me… so much more than any school or any thing could just in this last year, and he continues to teach me more every day. Theo, then Thomas are next. I don’t think they look anything alike…”

“Really?” Mark asked incredulously. “See they look identical to me, here.”

“Photos are a little harder with the two of them for me.” You agreed as you pushed your phone  across the table. “I have to take an extra second to really look. But face to face there is no question. They are two completely different personalities. All my boys are so different. And they all give me a run for my money.”

“Boys will do that.” He chuckled as he nodded at the next waiter, who had parmesan pork. “I think I can consider myself an expert and say that, as they get older, they will be even more of a handful.”

“You’re not helping here.” You giggled around a bite and behind your hand.

“You don’t think so? I think I am being extremely helpful.”

“No, now you’re just making me regret that I didn’t keep putting my coat on.”

“Oh, now why would you go and say a mean thing like that?” He asked as he put his hand over his heart. “Darling, that hurts. I thought I was doing so well.”

“Nope. You made it three steps forward and jumped eight back.”

“Bloody hell. I’m gunna have to try even harder, now. I love a challenge.”

——

You were actually pleasantly surprised with how your night went, and you were actually even more surprised that your date, which started at six PM, lasted through, an exorbitant amount of meat, salad, and cheesy bread, two amazing split desserts, and some absolutely amazing conversation. You pulled into the driveway at your house in Arlington at quarter to eleven, and you were only partially surprised to see all of the female half of your extended family waiting up for you.

“No!” You said as you walked through the front door with a shake of your head. “No, I’m not doing this…”

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) you sit down and you talk to us right now.” Your Yaya, Calliope, demanded in Greek as you walked through the front room of the house you grew up in.

“It’s late, Yaya.” You tried before your mom’s twin, your Aunt Selene side stepped in front of you in the kitchen doorway.

“You sit down and you tell us about this man or we will go down and wake those babies up until you talk to us, you hear me?” You sighed at her and rolled your eyes. It was moments like these where you disliked having a big family, because you knew that they would absolutely wake up your boys if you didn’t stop and spill.

“He’s very nice.” You started as you held on to the door frame to take off your heels. “Funny, charming…”

“Did you kiss him?”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Did you sleep with him already?”

“Did he pay for dinner?”

“Was he a gentleman?”

“OK, you guys need to just chill.” You said as you held your hand up and looked at the room of women. “I can’t answer six questions at once, in three different languages, at eleven at night. So here’s the run down. Yes, he paid for dinner. Yes, he was a gentleman. Emma wouldn’t have set it up if he wasn’t. No I didn’t sleep with him, yes, I did kiss him. Yes, he was very good at it. He’s got a British accent, he’s taller than me, he is divorced, he has no kids but wants and loves them, and he works as an attorney for the NSA with Ben. 

Now, I’m going to love on my babies, and go to bed because my lovely offspring love nothing more than to wake me up at the asscrack of dawn… sorry Nonna… Yaya…” You apologized as you held your hand up apologetically at your two grandmothers for swearing in front of them. “I love you all, and I will tell you more at family dinner on Sunday. Good night, go home, please. It’s bedtime.” You waved your hand at your aunts and grandmothers on your way to the kitchen, and they started collecting their things as your mother, Zoe, came running up behind you.

“Theo’s still up with your father.” She sighed as she handed you the baby monitor. “He didn’t eat much dinner…”

“Did you try laying him down with Thomas?” You asked as you stopped at the sound proofed basement door.

“He wasn’t having it. He just wanted his Mama.” With a huff, you kissed her cheek, and opened the door. 

“Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it.”

“It was a group effort, baby.” She said as she pat your shoulder. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too, Mommy. Love you.” She repeated the sentiment to you as you stepped on to the landing leading down to the basement, which was your and Emma’s former play room when you were kids and was now the studio apartment you shared with your four babies. You smiled at the older man who was sitting in a Lazy Boy in the middle of the room by the bathroom as he stopped rocking and nodded his head hello at you. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hey… there’s mama, see?” You smiled at your little boy as he picked his head up off your dad’s chest and looked over at you.

“Mama.” Theo choked as he turned and reached out for you with tears in his eyes.

“Oh, little man. Come here.” You dropped your shoes on the carpet and tossed your purse and jacket on your bed so you could take your son from your father.

“His bed time bottle is in the fridge. He didn’t touch it and he ate maybe three raviolis for dinner. I’m going up to bed.”

“Thanks Daddy. I’ll see you in the morning.” He nodded his head, sleepily as he trudged up the stairs, as your current little cry baby buried his face in your throat. “Alright, Theo. You gotta go to sleep, OK? But you can lay with mama for a little while. Only a little while, then you have to go in your bed.”

“No.”

“You can try to tell me no all you want, baby boy but you are gunna go to bed in your own bed tonight. Mama needs her own bed.” You grabbed the green capped bottle from the shelf of the fridge in the small kitchenette that, as a child, you never understood its purpose, but you were really grateful for as an adult. You dropped the bottle in the warmer on the counter and reached back behind your back to unzip your dress with a sigh. Theo protested a bit when you walked over and set him down on your king sized bed by the stairs, and he crawled across the blankets after you when you walked over to your small closet between the four cribs to throw your dress in your hamper and put on PJ’s. He slid off the bed, which was just a mattress and a box spring on the floor for that exact reason, and toddled after you into the bathroom.

“Oh, now we’re just being annoyingly needy.” You sighed when he latched himself on to your leg while you took off your makeup and ran a brush through your hair. Theo simply continued to sniffle until you finished and finally picked him up again. With one final heavy sigh, you grabbed his bottle and flipped off the lights, which didn’t do much since you had night lights all over the room so you could see your boys in the middle of the night. 

“Alright, bed time. Bed time.” You let out a relieved breath as you sat down on your bed and leaned back against the wall. Once Theo was settled in your arms with his bottle, you shoved your jacket on the floor and retrieved your phone from your bag before it followed your jacket. You glanced at the screen out of habit, looking at your sweet boy’s smiling faces, and you smiled at the text from Mark from a few minutes before.

— Hope you made it home safe. I had a wonderful time tonight. Look forward to seeing you again. 

You unlocked the screen and hit the message with your thumb.

— I had a fantastic time. I’m really glad you convinced me to stay, even if that third glass of wine is making taking care of this needy little boy a little difficult.

You hit the camera icon and flipped the view toward you and your son. You choose not to care that you didn’t have make up or a bra on any more, and took the photo of you and the beautiful, blue eyed little boy laying against your chest.

— Oh the joys of being a mother.

You set the phone down on your thigh and started to hum, hoping that you could get Theo to fall asleep quickly so you could get a couple hours yourself. Your eyes fell closed and your head gently hit the wall behind you, and the small suckling sound your son made mixed in with the sound machine that helped Evan fall asleep better than anything you had tried became your lullaby. You and Theo had both started to drift off, when your phone buzzed on your thigh.

— Oh, poor thing. I hope he goes to bed quickly for you. Sweet dreams, (Y/N). Good night… I’m gunna guess Thomas.

You smirked and glanced down at the finally sleeping little boy in your arms.

— Nope. This is Theo. Good try, though. Good night, sweetheart.

You set your phone down on your pillow and very carefully stood up to put your son to bed. He fussed for a couple seconds when you pulled the abandoned bottle from his hand and laid him down, but he thankfully stayed asleep. After checking the other three babies, you dumped out the remnants of the bottle in the sink, filled it with water, and simply left it to deal with in the morning with the boys breakfast dishes. You were already half asleep when you trudged back over to your bed and you were sound asleep the moment your head hit your pillow.

Part 2

[adams]

the only time i feel good falling (is when i'm falling fast and hard for you) // stenbrough // ao3 // for lil <3 // playlist

The year is 1994, and Bill Denbrough is going to ask Stan Uris to the prom. That is, if Stan doesn't ask Patty Blum first.

part one of two: saturday january 29, 1994

The year was 1994, and the Loser’s Club was in full swing, screaming along to grunge rock and alternative pop at the top of their lungs, all piled on each other’s lap in Mike’s truck, spilling popcorn all over the seats in crowded movie theaters, swapping sodas, and kicking each other out of the hammock in their clubhouse. The seven of them (eight, when Georgie insisted on being included) were inseparable. You could always find at least a pair of them tangled up together, napping on the broken down couch that they had found and dragged into the clubhouse or swimming and splashing around in the cold water of the quarry in early spring before the sun has time to warm the water for the season.

The year was 1994, and the Loser’s were seniors in high school, planning for their futures. They were in the final stretch of the school year, taking the last of their public school classes. Some were making up for lost credits, like Richie and Beverly, who had both missed more than their fair share of biology lessons to go out back and smoke hand-rolled cigarettes in the Derry Senior High’s tennis courts, while other Loser’s were working on obtaining as much extra credit as humanly possible. Eddie was interning with the local hospital, well on his way to earning a CNA degree before even finishing high school first, while Mike spent countless hours volunteering at the Derry Library, where he aided the regular librarians in cleaning, organizing, and developing children’s programming, even bringing in some of his grandfather’s ranch animals on occasion. Ben had found himself a pastime at the gym, gaining muscle, confidence, and the attention of many girls across the campus, though he famously, and kindly, turned down anyone who asked him out. He only had eyes for one girl, and Beverly knew how lucky she was.

Though they were all growing up and finding their differences from one another, they were close as they ever were, and then some.

The year was 1994, and the Losers had steadily climbed the rungs of the social ladder, so that by the time of their senior year, they were ready and willing to date. Mike, handsome and charismatic, had dated a handful of girls by that point, and was seeing a sweet girl by the name of Hannah Bishop. She was a blonde on the track team with Ben, but most importantly, she got along well with the rest of the Losers, making her the longest standing of Mike’s girlfriends.

Richie and Eddie had gotten their heads out of their asses by sophomore homecoming, when Richie had finally let himself come out to his friends, and Eddie practically leapt into his arms to kiss him on the spot. They kept the PDA down to a dull roar at school, still nervous of other kids’ reactions, but were still inseparable at the heart of it.

Bill and Beverly had long since broken up, reaching an amicable end partway through freshman year. They felt too young to settle into something serious, and still got nervous attempting to kiss in front of their friends, and knew they weren’t meant to be.

Bev had no trouble moving on, though, and after finding out that her most beloved possession, the Derry postcard with the sweetest poem written on the back that she had found after one of her most cherished memories, a day at the quarry with her boys, was written by none other than Ben Hanscom himself, she wasted no time in claiming him for her own, as if he had ever been anything but hers. Bill, though, had never seemed to move on in the same way. The vast majority of the school assumed he was still fixated on his redheaded friend, but most of the Losers knew better.

It was 1994, and Bill Denbrough was in love with Stanley Uris.

Stan, once an uptight, strange child, had grown into an uptight, strange young man. He was smart, in the running for valedictorian, and funnier than even Richie sometimes, with his quick wit and dry sense of humor. His unruly curls grew longer, framing his face and moved gently around him when he laughed or shook his head, disparaging as a disapproving parent, but always with the glint of humor in his eyes. The Losers never had to explain themselves to him; he always seemed to understand his friends almost better than they did themselves, which is why it infuriated most of them to no end when he insisted that his best friend and fearless leader Bill was still in love with Beverly Marsh, even three years after the definitive end of their relationship, if you could ever really call two fourteen year olds too shy to hold hands for fear of their friends’ mocking a relationship.

Even after the end of everything, though, Stan never made fun. The other Losers liked to tease Bill and Beverly about their sandbox romance, with even Ben throwing in a joke or two occasionally about having “stolen Bill’s girl,” Stan didn’t play along. He’d roll his eyes and move the conversation along, having settled into the much needed role of babysitter when it came to hanging out with the Losers. Even Mike was childish and liked to throw paper balls that once came in the shape of long-lost love letters around the clubhouse, but somehow, the ever-present Peter Pan syndrome never stuck to the most stoic member of the group when it came to the romances and heartbreaks of his friends. It was the kind of tact that Bill admired about him. Bill admired a lot about him.

One of his oldest friends, Bill knew Stan like the back of his hand. He knew which buttons to press to get him to shout and jump like a fool with the rest of them, he knew exactly which pleading look to give to make Stan roll his eyes and grab Bill’s hand, letting the tall auburn-haired boy pull him into the bed of Mike’s truck that Eddie was always fixing up right before the designated driver for the night sped off onto the highway, looking for some sort of fun. But most of all, Bill knew that Stan was different, like the rest of the Losers.

The day River Phoenix died only a few months before hit the group like a ton of bricks, but none of them cried, except for Stanley, who had a secret copy of My Own Private Idaho on tape hidden on his bookshelf between ornithology journals that no one except for Bill knew about. None of the Losers cried over the tragic death of a young celebrity except for Stanley, the strange and uptight boy who loved a strange movie a little too much to be a coincidence. Bill thought that he had put the pieces together, he thought that it meant that maybe, just maybe, Stan was different like him, like Richie and Eddie were different. Bill thought that he may have a chance to be with the boy he was in love with, and immediately began planning the most romantic and devastatingly cheesy set up in the history of Derry Senior High, starting with asking Stan to prom in early February. That was the ideal time, he thought, since it was early enough to get a head start, but not so early that Stan would be blindsided.

Bill knew that he had a chance with Stan, or at least he thought he did, until the last Saturday of January, when Stanley asked Patty Blum to prom.

Saturday, January 29, 1994, Three Months to Prom

“Richie, I swear to all that is holy in this world,” Beverly said, waving her hand with a not quite yet lit cigarette held between her fingers, “if you make me late to chemistry again tomorrow morning, I’m going to end your life.”

“I didn’t say that I’m actually going to go make out with Eddie in the locker room after his gym class, I just said it would be hot,” Richie said, waggling his finger like a chastising mother, “There’s a massive difference.”

“Not if Eddie agrees with you!”

“And I didn’t agree with him!” Eddie shouted, sounding guilty already, as though if given the chance before Bev piped up he would have agreed.

The group was in Bill’s backyard, huddled around a small bonfire near the back edge of the property. It was unusually warm that afternoon for a winter day, so they decided to make smores and hope that certain members of their exclusive club couldn’t find anything to catch on fire, either purposefully (Richie) or accidentally (Bill). They had all gathered only about 45 minutes prior to the locker room conversation, with Mike arriving earliest after dropping his girlfriend off at home, and Stan being the latest arrival, as he had… still not arrived. Bill pretended not to notice too much, but as ever, he wore his heart on his sleeve and looked over his shoulder to the gate door next to the house every few minutes, hoping for Stan to arrive soon.

“Stop being so antsy, Bill,” Ben said, nudging him with a stick to get his attention. “Stan will get here when he gets here.”

Bev draped herself across her boyfriend’s lap and put a hand against her forehead and spoke in a poor imitation of Bill’s voice, complete with the distinctive stutter that he was slowly growing out of, “I just c-can’t live wih-without him near me, Ben. Stan is muh-my light ah-and stars.”

“Hardy huh-har har, Bev,” Bill said, straight faced and unamused, “I just wuh-want to get stuh-st-started on the s-smores already.”

He might have convinced his friends if his face didn’t immediately betray him by lighting up when he turned around at the sound of the gate swinging open, making a sudden noise as the wood door smacked into the side of the fence as Stan drug his bike into the backyard. Stan’s face was red, and so were his gloveless fingers, but his face was broken into an uncharacteristically wide smile as he dropped his bike to the ground and jogged to where his friends were gathered around the fire.

“I wish you had called me for a ride,” Eddie’s disapproving tone was cancelled out by the concern on his voice when he took one of Stan’s icy hands in his own and rubbed his knuckles to warm him up.

“You won’t care about how cold I am when I tell you the good news,” Stan said, pulling his hand back and holding it over the fire.

“What g-good news?”

“I’m taking Patty to the prom.” Stan’s voice was proud, almost smug, and the yard got very silent for just long enough to hear a pin drop, when Beverly pulled at Stan’s arm and turned him to face his friends in excitement.

“Patty Blum? Since when!?”

“Since next Monday, officially,” he blushed and dropped his stare to the grass.

“Monday?” Mike asked, sounding as confused as Bill felt. Bill’s head was spinning and every sentence was like a bucket of cold water over his heart.

“Technically I haven’t asked her, but Karina is on the speech team with Patty, and on the debate team with me, and she told me today that Patty wants me to ask her, and I really, really want to.”

Bill’s heart dropped out of his chest and into his stomach.

“How do you know it isn’t a trick?” Richie’s question was next, “Like that time Sam Ferris asked Eddie to formal?” He wrapped an arm around his boyfriend and planted a kiss on his temple, as if to apologize for bringing it up. Eddie did look a little peeved.

“It’s not.” Bill said, finally. He knew it couldn’t be a trick, because Patricia Blum is a nice girl, and because he knows all too well how easy it is to envision a date to prom with Stan Uris.

Stan shot him a smile.

There’s another moment of silence, where Bill can feel the prickle of eyes on him and he doesn’t even glance to his side to know that he’s right, that Beverly is giving him a look full of reserved pity. He speaks up again.

“Good,” he says, “You deserve a pretty girl like that.”

And the spell is broken. The Losers all start chiming in with what they think Stan should say, and how he should dress, and what a striking couple the two of them will be, Stan standing tall and lean with the impossibly thin and honey-blonde haired Patty Blum on his arm, dressed to the nines in a sweaty gym, classing up the place just by being there, smiling together. Bill could see it clear as day.

“I’m going to g-go get some more chuh-chocolate, now th-that Stan is here,” he smiled a tight smile and stood up to go into the house. Even if no one else wanted smores, Bill somehow felt a greater need for stuffing his face full of chocolate than he had ever experienced before.