#unfortunately its really not anything i can fix but um. honestly should have figured out it would be this thing again

[tobintwo]

I FIGURED OUT WHY ALL OF A SUDDEN MY MENTAL HEALTH JUST WENT TO ABSOLUTE SHIT I FIGURED IT OUT

[greenjacketwhitehatdocmui]

Frozen:  In the Details

Summary:  Sometimes, the simplest of tasks can have a deeper meaning.  Agnarr muses on what washing the car has meant to him in the past, and possibly the future.  This was written for the “Summer Lovin’” issue of @frozines on Tumblr. Modern AU, Agduna and Kristanna.

This story can be found on @frozines and at Fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own.

Enjoy!

--Pearson “Doc” Mui

Frozen:  In the Details by Pearson “Doc” Mui

           Agnarr awoke early on a Saturday. With some grumbling, Iduna released him from their bed as he prepared for the day. She understood that this task had to be done early in the morning, but she didn’t have to like it. If things worked out, however, it would have been worth waking up early for.

           After a quick breakfast and some cleanup, Agnarr trotted to the garage. The spring in his step ran counter to the occasional crackling sound in his knees. Even the projected thirty percent chance of rain did nothing to dampen his spirits.

Eyeing one corner of the garage, he chose his tools for the day’s task. Buckets, wash mitts and car soap were laid out on the garage floor. After a moment, he opened up some folding chairs and a small table.

           Opening the garage door, he smiled at the sight of his girls coming home, if only for today. They were adults now; Elsa was working on her PhD while Anna was a year into graduate school. The nest was never empty for too long, thankfully. They made time to visit, even if it was just for small talk.

           Elsa eyed him ruefully before accepting a quick hug. She had a pretty good idea of what he had planned for their incoming guest. Anna, on the other hand, was pouting.

           “Dad, are you really going to put Kristoff through this?” Clearly, his youngest wasn’t pleased at the prospect.

           Agnarr raised an eyebrow. “The way you’re talking, you’d think that I was going to torture him. It’s just a car wash between men.” He sighed. “You used to love helping me wash the car.”

           “I remember that you loved using the hose,” Elsa reminded Anna. There wasn’t any real bite to her words, though. ���We used to help while wearing swimsuits.”

           Anna’s pout faded as she sighed, briefly lost in nostalgia.  “Those were good times, weren’t they?”

           Iduna folded her arms and sighed. Both of her girls were wearing swimsuits underneath their shirts and shorts. Anna eagerly fingered the trigger to the hose while Elsa made sure the supplies were in order.

           Elsa was having a good day. It hadn’t taken too much cajoling to get her outside. Anna’s puppy-dog eyes were a formidable weapon, especially at the tender age of eight.

           Most men would have insisted on doing “man stuff” by themselves. Agnarr wanted to have as many family activities as possible. Everyone had a job: Agnarr would wash the car, Anna would rinse it off and Elsa would take care of the windows. Iduna was there for spot-checking and refreshments.

           “Is everyone ready?” he asked enthusiastically.

           “Ready!” Anna piped up.

           “I’m ready, Papa,” Elsa said more demurely.

           He nodded.  “Well, let’s get this car clean, shall we?”

           Iduna marveled at their coordination. Everyone worked their roles admirably. Of course, a family wash like this was more for fun than work. There wouldn’t be any intensely-detailed work like Agnarr had done before—

           She suppressed a shudder. Agnarr’s father had been a cold taskmaster. He was more of a sire than an actual, warm father figure. While she took no pleasure in anyone’s passing, she had admit that the town had been the better for it.

           The calm lasted almost the entire time the car was being washed. Then Anna got a little overzealous with the hose and sprayed into the air.

           “Look, Elsa! Look Papa! I’m making rainbows—oops.” Anna laughed nervously as she realized that both Elsa and Agnarr were soaked.

           Iduna sighed, safe in the garage. She knew that it was going to end up like this.

           With calm, deliberate steps, she retreated further into the garage and grabbed a third, covered bucket from its hiding place. She and Agnarr had prepared this little surprise last night. With some effort, she hoisted the bucket to the driveway and uncovered it.

           Iduna reached into the bucket and grabbed a water balloon. She gestured for everyone to do the same.

           “On three,” she said firmly. “One, two—“

           “THREE!” Anna squealed.

           The battle was joined. When it was over, they were collapsed on the lawn, soaked through and basking in the summer sun.  It had been a good day.

           “Morning, girls,” Iduna greeted them. “Have you had breakfast yet? I could fix something up.”

           “We’re fine, Mom,” Elsa reassured her. “We ate before we came here.”

           Anna blinked and winced as she ran back to her car, an unassuming Honda Civic.  Rummaging around, she extracted a bag and jogged back.

           “We stopped by Hudson’s Hearth,” Anna said. “Destin and Halima say `hello.’” She opened it up and the three women sniffed deeply at the smell that wafted out.

           “Hmm…chocolate,” they chorused. For a moment, they were lost in the smell of the pastries.

           Agnarr tried not to chuckle. The apples didn’t fall far from the tree.

           He turned away from them and tried not to look too anxious or expectant. In the brief encounters he’d had before, Kristoff had seemed like a nice enough young man. It was clear that he cared greatly for Anna.

           Unfortunately, Anna hadn’t been so lucky the first time. At first glance, Hans had seemed like a good person, too. But the devil was always in the details—or, in this case, the detailing.

           Hans had pulled into their driveway in a Ferrari. To Agnarr, this was the first clue that the young man might have been trying too hard.

           “Good morning, Mr. Arendelle!” Hans greeted him enthusiastically. “So, who’s going to get the royal car wash treatment?”

           “We’ll be taking care of Anna’s car,” Agnarr said. “I already waxed our cars last week. I figured that Anna’s car could use a cleanup.”

           Hans’s smile froze. There was a dark shadow of disappointment in his eyes.

           “Oh,” Hans said simply. Then he rallied. “Oh, of course,” he agreed. “Nothing but the best for Anna.”

           “I’m glad that you agree,” Agnarr said. “I have all the supplies in the garage. Was there anything you needed?”

           “Thank you sir, but I brought my own things,” Hans said smoothly. He almost strutted to the Ferrari and pulled out some high-end detailing supplies from the little trunk. They were all brand new and still in the package.

           “Do you use all this on your own car?” Agnarr asked.

           Hans paused. Then he smiled in an ingratiating manner. “I don’t compromise on quality, Mr. Arendelle. As I said before, I want only the best for Anna.”

           As the time passed, Agnarr noticed several things he wasn’t sure that he liked. Hans insisted on doing it all himself, even though Agnarr had offered to help. Whenever Anna caught his eye, Hans flexed and winked.

           It was clear to Agnarr that Hans had never washed a car in his life. He was washing randomly instead of methodically, “politely” refusing any suggestions. He was sloppy applying the wax, squirting a long line on the car and working from there. Furthermore, when Hans thought that neither Agnarr nor Anna was looking, he scowled.

           Agnarr did not have a good feeling about Hans. He tried to voice his objections to Anna, but she was entirely captivated by how charming, selfless and helpful he was. Hans was, in her eyes, flawless. It was not a good sign.

           “I’m not sure it’ll work out,” he admitted to Iduna later on. It pained him to see Anna clinging to Hans’s every word. It was obvious that Anna was utterly besotted with Hans.

           “I didn’t know that a car wash was a personality test,” she joked. Her smile faded as she noted his grim expression. “You’re serious?”

           He sighed heavily. “He doesn’t take any suggestions or criticism. He shows off when he knows that people are looking. When he thinks nobody’s looking, it’s obvious that he’s not really enjoying himself.” He paused. “And honestly, even Anna could see that he did a terrible job of it.”

           “Elsa doesn’t like him, either,” she said. “Something about how he seems insincere to everyone except the person he’s focusing on.”

           “Dad had that kind of charm,” Agnarr admitted. “He was better at it, though. Hardly anyone saw his dark side.”

           She flinched. “We should warn her.”

           “I’m not sure she’d listen. She has an incredibly forgiving heart and Hans will take full advantage of it. You saw how besotted she was with him. I could practically see the hearts floating from her.”

           “So we do nothing?” Those words left a bad taste in her mouth.

           “No.” He shook his head. “We hope for the best and prepare for the worst. If he tries to isolate her, we find ways to keep in contact. Elsa’s ready to intervene if she has to.”

           She nodded. “And what if he goes too far?”

           His expression darkened. “Then I will make certain that he never huts anyone again.”

          “Just you?” she asked. “You never let me have any fun.”

          “Fine, I can go after you,” he sighed. “Not that there would be much left.”

           Anna’s enthusiastic greeting to Kristoff’s truck broke Agnarr out of his reverie.  He chuckled as Kristoff parked his truck on the side of the road. It was a small gesture of consideration, one of many that he’d observed. Kristoff wasn’t rich and he hadn’t been able to afford the best education, but he was kind and sincere.

           “Woof!”

           Oh, and Kristoff had a big, friendly dog. The girls had taken to him almost immediately, with Anna babbling baby-talk as Elsa looked embarrassed. Iduna was not immune to Sven’s “puppy in a big body” charm. As for Agnarr, he was fond of the big dog as well—though he tried to be restrained about it.

           “Mr. Arendelle,” Kristoff greeted Agnarr politely—and a bit nervously. “Um, I hope you don’t mind that I brought Sven. The big lug didn’t want to stay home.”

           “That’s fine,” Agnarr said reasonably. “As long as he behaves himself, I don’t have any problem.”

           “He’s a total sweetie, Dad,” Anna said from behind. “Want me to keep an eye on him?” She asked Kristoff.

           “That’d be great, thanks,” he said.  “If he gets fidgety, you know what to do.”

Opening the door, he grabbed Sven’s leash. The big dog jumped out and waited for Anna to accept the lead. After the obligatory scratch behind the ears and baby talk, she and Sven headed to the shelter of the garage.

           “So, um, I brought some stuff with me,” Kristoff admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. “Of course, if there’s something you want to use, I’m okay with that.”

           Agnarr scrutinized the equipment in the back of the truck. The microfiber towels had been neatly folded in their own, zip-locked bag. Two buckets with grates inside met with his approval. He did arch an eyebrow at the orbital polisher and pads, something that his late father would have taken issue with. There were spray bottles of wheel cleaner, “ceramic wax,” something for the upholstery and something called “instant detailer.” Everything was in good condition, but it was obvious that the equipment had seen some use.

           “Do you think I brought too much?” Kristoff asked nervously. “Maybe I overdid it.”

           “I think this will be just fine,” Agnarr said. He turned towards Anna. “What are you in the mood for today?” he asked.

           “Well, I really don’t need anything fancy,” she replied. “Why? What did you have in mind?”

           “I could probably get rid of some of those swirl marks,” Kristoff suggested. “If you want, I mean.  Think of it as kind of exfoliating your car.”

           She lifted an eyebrow at the metaphor. “Well…maybe just the hood and the trunk,” she allowed. She quirked the corner of her mouth in amusement. “You just want to use your little toy, don’t you?”

           “Well, I saved up for it,” he admitted. “So, smooth out the hood and trunk, got it.”

           Agnarr tried not to chuckle. “You have a polisher, don’t you?”

           “It’s nothing fancy,” Kristoff said. “I saved up for it, so I figured I might as well get some mileage out of it.”

           “He waxes his truck every few weeks,” Anna said. “You know, I kind of feel bad that you’re doing all this for my car. Maybe I could take care of the upholstery or something?”

           The two men shared a look. Anna was dressed practically for the warm weather. There was nothing objectionable about her jean shorts and t-shirt. However, crawling around to wipe down the seats would have been awkward, to say the least.

           “How about I walk you through getting your trunk polished?” Kristoff suggested. “It’s not that hard.”

           “You’re letting me touch your baby?” Anna asked dubiously.

           “My polisher is not my baby,” Kristoff protested. Then there was a warmth in his smile that made her flush. “I trust you.”

           “So…you’d let me wax your truck?” she teased.

           “Why don’t we start with your car first?” Agnarr gently interrupted. “We don’t want to wait too long, after all.”

           Elsa quietly smiled as the men worked on the car. They had been surprisingly efficient and coordinated well together. There were moments when one man had to offer feedback to the other, but neither of them took any offense. It was an unusual kind of camaraderie.

           Kristoff was a vast improvement over Hans. What he lacked in funds, he more than made up for in heart. He may have been a little rough around the edges, but there was no doubt that Anna was the most important person in his life.

           She heard one breathy sigh, then another. She noted the very contented looks on the faces to either side of her. Then she noted that even in the relatively cool summer weather, Kristoff and her father had worked up quite the sweat, their shirts clinging to them.

           With a quiet, resigned sigh, she went into the house. Her sister and mother were oblivious to her absence.

           A few moments later, she returned with a tray of drinks and two towels. She set the tray on a nearby work bench and took two tall glasses of lemonade with her.

           Anna still had a dazed, dopey expression on her face. Iduna wasn’t much better.

           Elsa took Anna’s free hand, the one that wasn’t holding Sven’s leash, and gently placed the glass in her palm. With a start, she blinked as if she were coming out of a spell.

           Elsa did the same for their mother. Iduna’s reaction was much the same as Anna’s.

           Elsa couldn’t resist a little smirk. “I thought you two might want something to drink,” she said. “You both looked…thirsty.”

           Iduna and Anna rolled their eyes at the double-entendre. Behind the cool exterior that Elsa projected, she could be quite the joker—even if her humor tended to be on the dry side.

           “Very funny,” Anna returned. “We’re just appreciating their hard work.”

           “We certainly are,” Iduna agreed. “Both of them are very diligent.”

           “Well, maybe we could reward their diligence with a towel and a sports drink?” Elsa suggested, gesturing to the tray. “I think they could use it.”

           Agnarr wiped the sweat off of his forehead. While he still enjoyed washing cars, he was reminded that he wasn’t a young man anymore. Even though he and Kristoff were cutting the workload in half, he was still going to be sore tomorrow morning.

           Still, it was gratifying to see how seriously Kristoff took things. He was methodical and, more importantly, he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. He concentrated on the job at hand and accepted feedback.

           “You’ve had some experience,” he observed. “With washing cars, I mean.”

           Kristoff gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I worked part-time at the car wash one summer,” he replied. “I guess it kind of stuck.” He wiped at his brow. “I wouldn’t want to do it for a living, though.”

           “I had to…earn things by washing cars,” Agnarr said. “My father was a big believer in hard work.”

           Kristoff said nothing. He could tell by the older man’s tone that there were mixed emotions.

           Agnarr wiped the sweat off his brow, if only to not drip on his father’s Cadillac. The “beast,” as he jokingly called it, was an ostentatious symbol of his father’s wealth and practicality. It was practical in that any repairs or maintenance could be easily obtained within the town.

           As he wiped off a clear path in the baked-on wax, he saw his tired, sweaty reflection in the black depths of the “beast.” He had just spent the last four hours under the hot July sun. Every detail had been supervised by his father, who was resting in the shade with a beer. Every once in a while, his father would shout words of—

           “Come on, boy!” Runeard exclaimed. “Put your back into it! In my day, we had to deal with Blue Coral. You’ve got it easy with that wax!”

           Agnarr said nothing. His father often deducted from the anticipated payment if he talked back. It was one of the little ways that the family company kept people in line.

           It took another half hour to clear off the last of the wax. His arms trembling, he stood up straight and awaited judgment—and hopefully, payment.

           Runeard took one last draw of his beer and got up. He circled around the Cadillac and murmured in—well, it wasn’t quite approval. It was more like he acknowledged that the job had been done.

           Agnarr tried to keep calm. He didn’t dare show how eager he was to get paid. He couldn’t ever let his feelings show, not in front of his father.

           Runeard wiped his index finger down the hood and felt for any errant wax. There was one last murmur as he nodded.

           “It’ll do,” Runeard declared. With exaggerated magnanimity, he took out a twenty and handed it to Agnarr. Then the scowl returned as his nostrils flared. “Get cleaned up before you go, boy. And you’d better stay away from those filthy people.”

           Agnarr nodded once. The less his father knew about his outings with Iduna, the better.

           With one last scowl, Runeard shooed him away from the car. It was the same dismissive gesture he might have used for a servant. It certainly reinforced Agnarr’s place in the world—at least in Runeard’s mind.

           Agnarr trudged back into the house. He didn’t have to play up his muscle aches. He did have to remind himself not to smile in front of his father.

           Those long, hot hours had been worth it. The aches had been worth it.  Above all,   Iduna was worth it.

           Agnarr forced himself to take long, slow sips of the sports drink as he toweled off the sweat. The exterior had been cleaned and dried, including the wheels. All that was left was the interior and waxing the car.

           “You’re in good shape for your age, but don’t overdo it,” Iduna warned him gently. “There’s no one to show off to.”

           “I’m not showing off,” he replied. “I’m just…enjoying the moment.”

           “What moment?” she asked.

           He turned his gaze to where Kristoff was showing Anna the bottle of detailer spray and some sort of yellow clay. He sprayed the hood and wiped the clay across the surface. Then he took a microfiber towel and wiped off any residue.

           “See these little dots and specks?” Kristoff pointed to the clay bar. “These are contaminants that stick on your paint. We want to get rid of those before we polish out the swirls. After that, we put on the wax and we’re all set.” He paused. “Here, feel where I just cleaned it up.”

           Anna tentatively brushed a finger across the surface. Blue eyes widened in amazement.

           “Whoa, that’s…really smooth,” she said. “So, you do this every time you wax your truck?”

           He shook his head. “No, this is only once or twice a year. This used to be a big secret for the car shops until a few years ago.”

           Iduna turned back to Agnarr and nodded in understanding. There wasn’t a hint of arrogance or condescension in Kristoff’s voice. He merely wanted to inform Anna about something he liked.

           As the morning went on, Agnarr noted how patient Kristoff was with Anna. He was a good teacher, putting his polisher in Anna’s hands. It was obvious that Kristoff trusted her implicitly—and she felt the same about him.

           By the time they were done, Anna’s Honda had never looked better. Anna and Kristoff took a moment to bask in their shared accomplishment. The car gleamed in the light, despite the clouds coming in.

           “Good job, feisty pants,” Kristoff complimented her. “She looks great.”

           “Oh, I didn’t do all that much,” she demurred. “You and Dad did all the hard work.”

           “Oh, it’s not as hard as the old days,” Agnarr chimed in. “Believe me, I would have been a lot less sore if we had that ceramic wax back then. It’s a lot easier to take off than baked-on Turtle Wax.”

           Any further comment was forestalled when Sven sniffed the air. The big dog made a dissatisfied, grumbling sound. Moments later, the sky darkened with an ominous rumble.

           “Oh, no…” Agnarr groaned. “There wasn’t supposed to be any rain today!”

           “That figures,” Kristoff sighed heavily. He eyed the back of his truck.

           Elsa checked her phone. “Looks like there’ll be heavy showers for an hour or two.”

           “But we just finished it!” Anna groaned.

           Kristoff perked up a little. “Well, I’ve got a tarp in the back of my truck. I could cover up your car until the rain stops.”

           Anna blinked. “You’re prepared.”

           He shrugged. “Sometimes life is like that. You get little bumps in the road and do the best you can. Experience is the toughest teacher. C’mon, let’s get this done.”

           Moments later, Anna’s car was safely covered just before the deluge hit. Everyone watched the rain from inside the garage. Kristoff and Agnarr were toweling off their hair. They were both soaked form the rain.

           “Sorry it didn’t work out, sir,” Kristoff said.

           “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Agnarr replied. “I’d say that this was a very productive day.”

           Kristoff looked at him quizzically. “How so?”

           Behind him, Anna looked puzzled while Elsa looked satisfied. Clearly, something was going on.

           “Do you have anywhere you need to go?” Agnarr asked casually.

           “Not until the rain stops,” Kristoff replied. “Why do you ask?”

           “Well, until then, I suppose that you and Sven are our guests. Do you have any requests for lunch?”

           Kristoff held up his hands. “Sir, I really don’t want to impose. I’m sure you were looking forward to time with your family.”

           “I am,” Agnarr acknowledged with a nod. “Of course, this can include prospective members of my family.”

           “But Sven—“

           “He’s covered,” Elsa said. She reached in her purse and held up a can of dog food.

           Kristoff blinked as Sven leaned against Elsa. “Did you know about this?” he asked Anna.

           She shook her head. “Nope. It’s news to me.”

           “Relax,” Agnarr said calmly. “I’m not bringing out the shotgun for you two. I’m just asking if you’d like to stay for lunch.”

           “I—sure, if it’s no trouble,” he agreed.

           “No trouble at all,” Iduna reassured him. “There’s plenty in the Instant Pot to go around.” She opened the door to the house and the smell of hearty stew wafted outside.

           “Useful, isn’t it?” Elsa remarked. She paused and dug out something else from her purse. She handed a large, folded square of cloth to Kristoff. “You’ll need this.”

           He grimaced at the t-shirt he’d been handed. It wasn’t his, but it was definitely his size. The words “love expert” were boldly emblazoned on the front, complete with hearts.

           “Elsa!” Anna exclaimed.

           “Yes?” Elsa could not have pretended to be more innocent if she’d batted her eyes.

           “You are a stinker. No, you are a scheming, plotting stinker. This was a conspiracy!” Anna declared.

           Elsa and Agnarr had matching smirks. That was unsettling to both Anna and Kristoff.

           “Well, I didn’t plan on the rain,” Agnarr admitted. “You are welcome in my house.” He paused. “While you are in my house, I do expect you two to…mind your manners.”

           Agnarr turned to go inside. He only briefly paused when he passed Elsa.

           “They’re blushing, aren’t they?” he murmured.

           “Oh, yes,” Elsa agreed.

           “Good.”

           Elsa lingered for a moment, a smug little smirk on her face. Then she tapped her thigh and Sven followed her inside.

           “Your Dad really doesn’t have a shotgun, does he?”

           “I…don’t think so. I think he likes you.”

           “That’s…good,” Kristoff got out awkwardly. “I mean, it’s better than the alternative.”

           Wordlessly, Anna reached out. He gently took her hand as her eyes shone.

           “Come on, Mr. Love Expert,” she said. “Let’s have a family lunch.”

           Kristoff’s expression softened. “Sounds good to me.”

The End

[dc41896]

Goodnight and Go

Something quick I thought of inspired by “goodnight no’ go” by Ariana Grande. Hope you guys like it☺️!

Pairing: handyman!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: Mentions of drinking, brief mention of an injury/blood, fluff💕!

Tell me why you gotta look at me that way

You know what it does to me

So baby, what you tryna say?

Lately, all I want is you on top of me

You know where your hands should be

So baby, won't you come show me?

Chris: You have enough water right? And food in case the storm gets too bad?

Y/N: Yes dad I have everything I need lol

Chris: Smh the thanks I get for caring😤

Y/N: Aww you really do love me🥰!

Chris: ....go to bed Y/N lol

Y/N: What about you? If you need anything I can share

Y/N: You don’t have any jobs tonight right?

Chris: I’m fine, but thanks for the offer😊 and just one. It shouldn’t take long though

Chris: Aww is someone worried about me??😏

Y/N: 🙄 No...I just didn’t want you to be out in the middle of all the snow and get stuck somewhere then I’m left trying to dig you out

Chris: That sounds like you were worried 😉

Y/N: 😑 I’m going to bed now, goodnight sir lol

Chris: Lol goodnight. I’ll check on you tomorrow💙

Reading the message one last time before tucking your phone under your pillow, you softly smile imagining the way his pink lips were probably curled into a smirk with his teasing and little jokes. And how his voice tended to drop a couple steps above a whisper whenever he told you goodnight, leaving you flustered with tingles spreading over your body.

Oh, why'd you have to be so cute?

It's impossible to ignore you,

Why must you make me laugh so much?

It's bad enough we get along so well

Things had been this way for a while now. Specifically since college.

Although you knew each other in high school, due to him and your older brother being best friends, it wasn’t until college that you both started this unspoken “flirtationship”. You could go back and forth all day, but still neither of you would make the first move. Lately though, you could feel yourself inching closer and closer to finally taking that risk.

However, the thought of you two just being something fun to him and nothing more quickly halted your progress making your stomach queasy. You knew he wasn’t a player and had seen up close how sweet and caring he was, not wanting to hurt anyone, but still what if he didn’t want anything serious right now or to be tied down?

Before your anxious thoughts could take over, you force your eyes shut burying your face into your pillow with a sigh, letting the howling wind brushing against your window drift you off to sleep.

One of these days

You'll miss your train and come stay with me

(It's always say goodnight and go)

We'll have drinks and talk about things

And any excuse to stay awake with you

And you'd sleep here, I'd sleep there

But then the heating may be down again

(At my convenience)

We'd be good, we'd be great together

Knees up to your chest and comforter pulled as close as possible to your chin, your shivers make it impossible to go back to sleep. You could’ve sworn you turned the heater on before getting in bed, and even double checked.

So why did it feel like you were trapped in a meat locker?

Padding across the cold carpeted floor with your purple comforter tightly wrapped around your body, you find your thermostat indeed set to 75 and heat, but the temperature inside reading 57 degrees.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you say to yourself pressing the arrows up and down to see if anything would happen. Unfortunately, it remained unmoved showing you that your thermostat was definitely broken.

Rushing back to your bed before your feet could freeze anymore, you recover your phone from its hiding place quickly pressing Chris’ number.

“Yea?,” he asks, voice laced with sleep making you feel guilty for waking him.

“Oh, uh sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay, don’t apologize. Everything alright?”

“Um well my thermostat is broken and it’s freezing. But if you can’t make it till the morning-,”

“No I’ll be over in a few, just sit tight,” he yawns. You can hear the phone shift against his ear as he moves about collecting his things.

“You sure? It’s one a.m. and I know you’re probably tired.”

“Y/N it’s fine, plus you just live down the hall it’s nothing for me to come by and look,” he chuckles.

“Alright see you in a few.”

Within the next minute, he was at your door in his navy blue sweatpants and plain grey long sleeve shirt that seemingly clung to every muscle of his arms and chest with his toolbox in hand. If it wasn’t for the unbearable cold and your involuntary shivering, the sight would’ve had more of an effect of you than it currently did.

“Well, good news is that it’s an easy fix,” he speaks placing the wires back inside before screwing the cover back on the thermostat. “Bad news is I need to get the piece you need from the store which won’t be open until the morning. That is if they can with all the snow.”

“So basically I’m stuck being a popsicle for the night.”

“If you want to stay, yea. Or you can stay at my place. Unless you’re not comfortable with that then I completely understand.”

“Chris I’ve known you forever, and honestly would choose you to share a room with over my own brother,” you answer quickly getting your phone and keys before putting on your slides.

“Really?,” he asks amused.

“Yea. I know you won’t try to stick anything in my ear or mess with me somehow while I’m sleeping. Unless you’re now thinking of doing said things, which in that case I have no problem sleeping in my car.”

“Wouldn’t even dream of it sweetheart.” His deep chuckle as he wraps an arm around your shoulders rubbing up and down your arm trying to warm you bring back those familiar tingles as he leads you down the quiet hall to his apartment.

Entering the familiar space, you instantly sigh as your body begins to thaw in the warmth of his apartment. His body leaving your side to grab the couple throw blankets he had draped over his couch brings a sudden chill, making you hope he’d come back soon.

Wrapping both blankets around you, his arms bring you into his broad chest as close as possible tightly, but comfortably, trapping you in a hug.

“Better?,” he asks, head resting on top of yours while his large palm moves back and forth on your back.

“Mhm, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Standing there breathing in his faint woodsy scent still lingering after being worn all day, it’s the most comfortable you’ve been all night.

Well, looking past the current ache in your legs beginning to set in that is.

“Chris?”

“Hmm?”

“Although this is nice, my legs are starting to go numb,” you softly giggle watching as he pulled away with light red cheeks.

“Oh right, sorry. Um you can take the bed, I’ll stay out here,” he answers moving towards his couch.

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, just come on we can share. It’s not like we haven’t before.”

“That was an accident though, and on your part,” he smirks.

“No, it was actually you who ended up in the wrong room. Figures you don’t remember correctly since you were a bit under the influence,” you smirk back making him shake his head.

In truth, both of you were a bit drunk. Not enough to completely forget the entire night, but enough that any and everything was hilariously funny and sentences were a little difficult to get out clearly. What started with the two of you trying to watch a movie in your brother’s guest bedroom, turned into both of you knocking out in the middle of your conversation having not even pressed play.

A couple hours passed before his blue eyes peaked through his lids. He couldn’t stop the sleepy smile that crept on his lips noting how yours lied pouted against the pillow and nostrils would occasionally flare in the most adorable way from your breathing. He didn’t mean to stare, but how you could look so perfect while sleeping just made him want to hold you closer.

“Now that I think about it, all this isn’t some plan to get me in bed is it?,” he jokes sliding into his king sized bed at the same time as you.

“Wow, you caught me. I messed up my own thermostat nearly giving myself hypothermia just so I could get to you and these striped sheets. Gee, you’re better than Sherlock Holmes,” you retort sarcastically as his head falls back in laughter. Gathering your half of the sheets around you, you lie on the blue pillow gazing at Chris fluffing his before lying down as well.

“You still have it.”

“Have what?”

Taking his hand in yours, his eyebrow rises and heartbeat quickens watching you extend his arm to trace over the discolored scar still near the fold of his arm.

You could vividly remember that night as if it happened minutes ago. Him attempting a keg stand with your brother holding his legs while cheering him on, along with everyone else watching, before ultimately falling awkwardly. Somehow his arm hit the nozzle leaving a gash that oozed blood, and you trying your best to dress his wound using tape and bunches of toilet tissue in the host’s bathroom.

“Oh that,” he smiles as your thumb continues to graze over the spot. “It’s my little reminder.”

“To make sure your spotter has a good grip next time?,” you ask making him chuckle.

“That...and other stuff. Like how it’s nice to have someone there for you.”

Feeling him shift closer to you, you look up to meet his eyes gazing at you in a way you’d never experienced from him before. The usual softness was there, but as his lips curled into that adorable, heart melting tired smile, admiration seemed to be there as well. Something similar to watching the sunset and the sky transition from blue to the lightest shades of pink and purple.

“And that not all dumb decisions end in disaster,” he adds in a husky whisper.

Know you're thinking' 'bout it, baby, just one kiss

While you're lookin' at 'em, baby, read my lips

“It would’ve been nice for you to realize that before we had to play ER,” you whisper back.

“Then what would’ve been the fun in that?,” he smirks. “Plus deep down, I think you like always being there with the bandaid for us...or one of us at least.”

You’re not really sure which one of you leans in first, but soon your lips are connected moving in perfect sync. His thumb runs back and forth against your cheek bone as you cling to his shirt closing the remaining gap between you. Finally pausing for air, you stay close lifting your finger to trace his now swollen lips.

“There might be a teeny, tiny possibility you’re right,” you smile before feeling his lips on yours again.

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[wunderlass]

I’m feeling so deflated to be writing this post. S1 had its flaws but those could be placed at the feet of a freshman showrunner who could learn from her mistakes going into S2 and up her game. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen, and S2 was a mess.

S1 had a clear central plotline: the mystery of Rosa’s death, leading to justice in the form of Noah’s death and Rosa’s resurrection. S2’s central plotline was…um. The kidnappings? Leading into the plot to blow up Crashcon? I think? But there was so much other stuff gong on it’s hard to tell.

Carina – if you happen to come stumbling into the tags for reactions – you’ve already acknowledged that you struggle to edit your scripts down for length. And it does show in the finished product. But you also struggle to edit your ideas down to fit into the episode count you have. There were too many extraneous plot threads this season, too many guest characters, and the ideas you had were shoddily and sloppily executed.

There were shining moments scattered here and there and the occasional good episode, but for the most part this season lurched from badly paced episode to badly paced episode. Stuff was crammed into each episode and yet somehow the plot also treaded water until 2x11 when it all kicked off – and this was because so much of what happened in the earlier episodes didn’t feed into the main plot. Even Max’s death, the overarching motivation for many characters at the beginning, was shoved to the side for other ideas.

And the payoffs for each of these storylines was too often underwhelming. Max can’t come back because he’ll be full of dark energy and a destructive force! Resolved in 30 seconds by him blowing up a pile of stuff. Max can’t remember Liz! Fixed in the same episode. That pattern continued with the finale feeling like it was trying to wrap up all these storylines without really having a story of its own. The various cliffhangers from Crashcon were tied up before the title card and then let’s spend the next 40 minutes treading water again.

There were good moments in the finale. Max and Isobel’s discussion, the Maneforrest kiss, Rosa and Helena’s reunion. But as for the rest? Hear me whine:

-          Jesse’s death was anticlimactic. His line about “no more Manes men” makes no sense given as far as he knew Flint (and maybe Clay?) is still alive. His death should have been poetic because one of his son’s killed him but it didn’t hold the weight it should have, possibly because it came so early in the episode.

-          It would have been far better if Jesse had discovered that Harlan killed Tripp and buried him beneath the shed. How awful would it have been for his entire worldview to be shaken by that revelation? How perfect would it have been if he discovered that Tripp loved Nora? If he died after learning all of that, becoming desperate and sloppy in whatever scheme he was trying to pull off (self-immolation via the bomb?), it would have been a fitting ending.

-          So many characters this season were badly served. Alex, Michael, and to a lesser extent Max, had real arcs and progression. Alex especially you can see them setting up his growth for a payoff in the finale. 

-          Kyle was shafted, shoved to the side for the Steph storyline that didn’t feel like it was going anywhere, and I suspect we got a lot of that cut away to make room for other stories.

-          Rosa’s story started off strong and then mostly got tied into rehab or helping Isobel. Them having her out and about in public in Roswell is complete nonsense.

-          Max had a line for Isobel about her becoming her “entire self” this season, and that rang false to me. We’ve only seen Isobel develop her powers. Her personality has shifted each episode, fractured and inconsistent, dependant on what the writers needed her to do. She didn’t get much of a storyline of her own – the abortion was redundant, serving as a political soapbox for Carina rather than anything that served the character – and while she’s found out more about her heritage, that’s never been as important as Michael or Max finding out about theirs. She said she wanted to become more like her mother and that never went anywhere.

-          I was so hopeful that Carina had listened and understood the criticisms with Maria’s handling in S1 and worked to improve it. She certainly gave her increased screentime. Except, so much of that screentime was tied into Michael, and latterly Isobel. She lacked interactions with Liz or Rosa. She was in two whole scenes in the finale and after she broke up with Michael, she disappeared from the story, and if that doesn’t say it all…

-          And that break-up was contrived bullshit. I’m not saying this as a shipper. It felt like they’d planned to have them break-up in the finale and wrote it even though the motivations hadn’t been properly established. Seeds were sown but they were communicating well as a couple and resolving their issues as they went along. Suddenly those issues got un-resolved and were enough to break them up.

-          The most galling part is that so much of what follows comes from Tripp’s diary, and Maria is excluded. This is her story too! Louise was her great-grandmother! Rather than sitting around her in the hospital room reading this stuff, they do it in the Crashdown.

-          Which fits the pattern of what’s happened all season. Maria found out she was part alien and it was about her powers, rather than her legacy, rather than what happened to her great-grandparents.

-          And it became clear that it was done so they could do the Nora/Tripp and Malex parallel.

-          Which completely solidifies for me where Carina’s priorities lie. She’s been clear that Malex is her favourite ship on the show and Michael is her favourite character. But this season has shown that she’s incapable of ensuring her favouritism doesn’t screw over other characters.

-          The sad thing is this really does show up in marketing. Carina always pushes and praises Vlamis and barely ever mentions Jeanine on her SM. Media outlets write about Malex as the centre of the show and they aren’t supposed to be. We have a sci-fi show with a Latina leading lady and nobody cares – not the showrunner, not the media (outside of Latinx-centric publications), not the fandom. I’m not Latina and it frustrates me so I can’t imagine how actual Latinx people feel about that.

-          Maria was dragged into a love triangle that Carina never had any intention of doing justice to. Maria and Michael were always only ever meant to be a pit-stop on the way to a big Malex reunion. Sadly it’s clear the same goes for Maneforrest. Why write something if you’re only going to do it half-arsed? And it clearly was. That’s why the Maria and Michael break-up was so perfunctory and illogical.

-          While I’m on the subject of Maria – last season Mimi was clearly deteriorating and didn’t recognise adult Maria anyway. Now that seems to have shifted to Mimi’s mind moving through time. It’s still unclear if this is the alien DNA or what was done to Patricia Deluca in Caulfield. I don’t understand why they introduced both elements – apart from being able to give Maria a line about unethical science which OH BOY what a contrast with Liz.

-          Speaking of Liz.

-          Wow.

-          If the central storyline was the kidnappings and Crashcon shenanigans, she really had no involvement with that all season apart from the very end. All the investigation went to other characters. Her mother was involved, but not Liz.

-          Let me repeat that.

-          Our lead character was not involved the central storyline of the season.

-          Alternatively, if you think Max learning about his history, and all of the reveals about 1948, and Maria’s heritage etc etc were supposed to be the main storyline…

-          Doesn’t matter because Liz wasn’t involved in any of that either!

-          Liz was a subplot in her own show after they brought Max back. Hell, she was a subplot even when she was working on that.

-          The narrative focus really has centred on Michael, Alex, and later Max.

-          I wonder what they have in common with each other.

-          If you don’t believe me, check out the screentime figures for this season. Liz had the fourth largest amount of screentime in the finale, and she’s only had majority screentime in a handful of episodes all season (2x01, 2x07, 2x11).

-          And then realise that the plot kept moving after Liz left Roswell. She’s just not part of it anymore.

-          I watched the finale and kept asking myself where Liz was because she kept disappearing for whole chunks of time.

-          She was in her own subplot about science for the back half of this season, and honestly, I’m going to have to write an entirely separate post about Liz and ethics in science because NOPE.

-          Max was right. Liz deserved to follow her calling but she had options that didn’t involve risking the aliens.

-          As such the Echo break-up was stupid but whatever, based on this season I guess it needed to happen.

-          Did Max even care that Liz left? He loved her for twenty years and then when he had her, it didn’t matter anymore? What the fuck? Are we ever going to get answers as to why he fell so hard and loved her for so long, or is the “Malex is cosmic” story more important?

-          Also the whole thing about the Genericorp lady not being interested in Liz based on meeting her at the Crashdown was stupid. You hire scientists based on the previous work they’ve done and their credentials. Diego’s word should have been enough to convince her, and then maybe an actual proper job interview to make sure she was a good fit. Not “let’s sneak into her secret lab to look at what she’s working on”.

-          When Liz does leave, she only says goodbye to Rosa and Kyle. Arturo is mentioned but not seen. Which means the whole ICE sequence this season, which should have been a solid motivation for Liz to take the Genericorp job on its own, has been resolved without a proper payoff. All that stress – scenes that I know felt genuinely stressful to some viewers because of how close to home it hit – and we don’t even get to see Arturo seeing his “genius daughter” leave with his future secured.

-          It’s plausible that Liz said goodbye to other characters – Maria, Isobel, Michael – off screen BUT SHE’S YOUR LEAD CHARACTER AND HER LEAVING TOWN SHOULD CARRY SOME EMOTIONAL WEIGHT FFS

-          Compare Liz leaving and arriving at the ocean to Buffy Summers leaving Sunnydale in Becoming Part 2. There is no contest.

-          It’s clear to me that the audience Carina writes this show for is herself. And that’s fine. Plenty of writers do that. But that means she’s writing a show for the women in fandom who like epic mlm romances with lots of angst. And the problem with that is that this show has a Latina lead who is not being done justice.

-          This is not me railing against Malex. There is space in the show for both things. This is me expressing my frustration at a showrunner and creative team who are not taking care with all characters equally.

-          Carina uses her platform to throw in politics and use characters as mouthpieces without considering their impact. She thinks she’s educating the straight white people in the audience without thinking about how scenes of ICE intimidation, homophobic violence, and racism will affect the people who are impacted by those things in real life.

-          Am I done with the show? Probably not. I’ve got fics I want to write and while I’m not hubristic enough to think I can write better than a team of professional writers, I’m going to at least try and do some of these neglected elements of the show justice.

-          Hubris. Remember when I thought that was going to be a theme of this season? Apparently not. There was no theme, unless “no editing, we die like men” counts..

[nelllraiser]

saved by the (b)nell | bex & nell

LOCATION: University of Maine, White Crest. PARTIES: @inbextween & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: nell walks in on a perfectly normal thing in the computer lab that has a perfectly normal explanation, and definitely wasn’t the fault of an unknowing witch named bex.  

Bexley couldn’t help but pace. Her skin was vibrating. She hadn’t studied enough. There was no way she could have studied enough. She hadn’t memorized everything her parents had told her about the professors she was going to have this semester. She didn’t know how to talk to them properly and “work into their good graces” like her parents wanted her to. They rustled around in her head and suddenly Bexley couldn’t breath. Oh, not this again. Not now! “Please not now!” she hissed under breath, rushing past the boy by the door and around the corner into the empty computer lab. She knew that this room was always empty at this hour (and especially so during the break) because she made sure to know which rooms were empty at what times-- no one could see her like this. Her parents would be so ashamed. By the time she made it to the room, the world was getting fuzzy and black dots were eating away her vision. She pressed against the wall and slid down next to the door, holding her head between her knees and rocking back and forth. She was okay, she just needed to breathe. Just breath! 

With a loud crash, half the computer screens suddenly shattered. Electricity popped, a few of them fell over, and Bexely screamed, leaping from her spot on the floor. She turned to try and bolt from the room-- no one had seen her come in, no one would see her leave-- and pretend it had never happened. But before she could even reach the door, a body was in her way and she slammed right into them. “Fuck-- sorry. Sorry! I didn’t mean to curse! O-or run into you! I’m sorry! I don’t know what happened! The computers, they just--” she gestured wildly behind her, scooting away from the girl in the doorway, “--you know? But it wasn’t me, I swear! I just happened...to be...here…”

Nell didn’t frequent the college campus all that often, but today was an exception as she lurked the halls of the university, on the prowl for one of ‘Ben Campbell’s’ usual lecture halls. If she was going to cause maximum havoc in one of his classes she needed to see exactly what she was working with. It was by chance that she was passing by the computer lab at the same exact moment a pulse of magic worked its way through the air, large enough to make her instinctively turn her head towards the source, and instantly change direction to find the root of it.

Honestly the thorough destruction of the lab was impressive, though perhaps a little messy and crass. Instantly her nearly black eyes found those of the girl before her, curiosity sparked in them as she looked her over. “Did you do that?” she asked reflexively despite having heard the girl’s previous denial. Who else would it have been? The rest of the lab was empty. “It’s fine if you did- I’m not a narc! I’m not gonna tell.” Eagerness was coloring her tone at the prospect of possibly having found another witch near her age, and one she wasn’t related to. “Fuck school, amirite?”

“What? No! It wasn’t me!” Bexley shouted in return, back pedaling away from the girl. “Why would you think it was me? I can’t do anything like that. Stuff like that isn’t possible, anyway, so of course there’s no way I could’ve done it!” She blurted any words that came to her mind because she needed to just keep talking, because if she kept talking, then surely she’d convince this total stranger that she hadn’t done that. And she hadn’t. Of course she hadn’t. That-- whatever that was-- wasn’t possible. Wasn’t real. All the strange things people said about White Crest were just rumors, they weren’t real. Bexley clicked her jaw shut and drew in a deep breath. “I have to-- can you-- I’m gonna be late for my class-- meeting,” she pointed past the girl and towards the doorway, even though the statement was completely untrue. She was over half an hour early for class, like always. She’d wait outside for fifteen minutes before going in, picking the same seat, and setting up her spot in just the same way every time. “But you should call the janitor or something. To clean up this mess. This mess that I definitely didn’t make. Thanks.”

“It’s fine! Really!” Nell persisted, certain that the young witch didn’t want to reveal her powers for fear of being found out, ostracized, or hunted. “I’ve got magic too- watch.” And with that she chanted a quick spell of reparation. In unison, the computers closest to them seemed to move in reverse, the glass shards and scattered keys of their keyboards rising from the ground to fit themselves back into place. In a few short moments, it was as if no harm had been done to them in the first place, good as new. Or at least...good as the school budget could afford. “See?” Nell offered innocently, waving a hand towards the computers that had been fixed. “I’m like you.” She was certain this young witch didn’t have a coven in the area— otherwise Nell would have already known about her. That prospect alone was enough to blossom a flutter of hope in her chest. If the girl didn’t have a coven, she wouldn’t yet know that Nell was an outcast of their kind...right? This could be her chance to find a witch that wouldn’t run in fear or sneer in response to Nell’s presence. This could be her chance for a friend who understood magic the way she did, and the bond it could create. 

Bexley watched with wide, nervous eyes as the computer seemingly went in reverse and fixed itself, as if someone had rewound a tape. She blinked, rubbed her eyes. “No, nope. No.” Shook her head, backing away from the girl now. “You-- no. Nope. Not true. Cause magic isn’t real. That was just--” she gestured wildly towards the computer that was fixed now. Or always had been fixed. Or had never been broken in the first place. Whatever made sense in the moment-- “an illusion. Obviously. Sleight of hand, or whatever. Obviously.” Did she already say that? She already said that. It was too late now. But the way the other girl was looking at her made her nervous. Bex backed up even further until her back hit the desk in the corner and she started shuffling the random papers on it around. “You’re not like me. I’m not like you. That’s impossible. Do you even go here?”

Maybe Nell should have led with her name or something else relatively normal before coming out of the gates with a magic trick. Perhaps it was better late than never, and despite the girl’s protest of her obvious magical abilities, Nell did her best to backtrack. “It’s alright, it’s okay— I’m Nell.” Where was she meant to go from there, though? Nell considered the girl in front of her with a long and puzzled look, trying to figure out how it was that the other witch could have performed magic yet..not believe in it. Didn’t she feel it? Didn’t she feel the rush of power and weightlessness that came with harnessing the life of the universe? “I can do sleight of hand, but that wasn’t it.” Her tone was more controlled this time around, not as insistent or overbearing when it came to the existence of magic. “I- no I don’t go here, but my friends do.” Should she try showing off a bit more magic? Would that help convince the girl? “I could show you another thing if you want.”

 “I don’t care what your name is,” Bex snapped back, feeling the room begin to close in on her. If she didn’t get out of here soon, who knew what would explode next. Not that she had made those things explode, of course not! But something was going to happen and if it wasn’t the computers, then it was going to be Bex. “And I don’t want to see another trick! I want you to move so I can get out of here!” She stomped her foot and a rush of wind brushed into Nell, as if trying to push her out of the way. Bex slapped her hands over her mouth again and stared wide-eyed. Someone must’ve just left a window open somewhere. Must’ve just been a huge gush of wind from outside. That tingle that always came after the surges filled her to her fingertips and she felt herself relaxing for just a moment. “Um...I’m sorry. That was rude of me. To yell. I’m sorry. Sometimes I just get really stressed and I have this thing about small spaces and being trapped and my name’s Bexley, by the way? Did I say that? Bexley Ochsenstein. Of the-- Ochsenstein and Feldman. The-- big law firm in town. I really should’ve been more mannered, please don’t tell anyone.”

Nell’s brows drew together as the other girl’s voice took on an entirely different tone, and she could feel her own temper beginning it’s quick rise to match her snappiness. The gust of wind only further confirmed Bex’s magical prowess, and did nothing other than solidify Nell’s stubbornness when it came to figuring out exactly what it was that was going on with the caster. She was obviously untrained if her magic was still lashing out with every emotional swing as it seemed to be. Which...unfortunately meant she was potentially dangerous to herself and others. There was a reason casters were taught from young ages to control their feelings, or at least channel them into something productive rather than destructive as Nell did. If they didn’t— disaster was often quick to strike. Had Nell really stumbled upon a caster who had no clue what power they held? When Bex’s tone returned to normal, Nell felt the tenseness and defensiveness in her shoulders relax in response. “You can leave if you want to. I’m not keeping you here,” she replied, stepping to the side in case Bex had thought the older witch to be blocking the younger one’s path. “Like claustrophobia?” Nell asked, not intending to pry, but knowing a change of topic was something that might help the girl in front of her be calm. The name certainly rang a bell, though. She was certain her mom had mentioned the family at times. “Do you always introduce yourself as a law firm?” she teased, hoping to set the girl a little more at ease. Nell knew plenty about being born into a legacy that was bigger than yourself.

The offer to leave went in one ear and out the other because all Bex could focus on now was the other girl’s-- Nell’s, her name was Nell, she’d said as much, Bex would do well to remember that-- teasing. It felt strangely light-hearted and a little sudden, considering Bex had just been yelling at her and she was claiming to have magical powers. Which wasn’t real. She was just one of those weirdos from Whtie Crest who thought the strange things in town were, like, paranormal or whatever. But-- she was being polite and she was even joking now and Bex really needed to make sure people didn’t see her insecure side like this. Swallowing, she shrugged away from the desk and back over towards the girl, holding her hand out. “Oh, uh-- yep! That’s me. A whole-ass law firm. My mom was a law and my dad was firm.” She smiled sweetly, trying to let the awkwardness roll away from her shoulders, not daring to glance around the classroom at all the broken computers and remember what had just happened. “You said you have friends here? Who uh-- who are they? Maybe I know them. I know a lot of people. Could be a like six degrees of separation thing. Did you know that that’s practically a proven thing? Everyone knows someone who knows someone. Isn’t that crazy?”

If she were being honest, Nell normally wouldn’t have been so quick to forgive the other girl’s outburst and sharp words. But this was different. This was special, because there was a caster standing right in front of her who didn’t seem to have the slightest inkling of what she was, and if Nell wanted her answers she’d have to make sure that Bex was willing to speak with her in the future. Even if Nell’s teasing had originally possessed ulterior motives as the driving force behind it, she found her lips turning upwards into a genuine but slightly crooked smile as the girl continued to babble. “Well as long as you’re going with the whole-ass law firm, and not the half-ass law firm- that’s what’s important. But if those are your parents...then aren’t you half-ass law, and half-ass firm?” Nell took in the wreckage they were still standing amongst, resolving to repair the rest of the computers once Bex was gone. “Don’t worry about those- I’ll take care of them later.” No doubt it’d be funny to see if Bex had a reaction when she returned to the computer lab at a later date, the room no different than it had been before wayward magic had struck. “But yeah- I have Blanche,” she instantly responded before continuing through a list of names. “There’s Adam, Ariana, Rio and-” Nell paused, uncertain if it was kosher to list Morgan, a professor, as a friend in front of a student. “And I know Professor Beck.” Nell couldn’t help the slight raise of her brow as amusement found her. It was impossible not to find a little humor in the way Bex seemed to be rattling on. “So crazy,” Nell said in a tone that was half meant as another tease, though not one meant out of malice. “It’s hard not to know people here when the town is so small, too.”`

“Oh, you know...on second thought,” Bex said, realizing way too late that she didn’t actually know anybody that went to school here, considering she had just started here this semester and classes weren’t even in session yet. Which reminded her of her very poor excuse to leave this room at the very beginning of this conversation. She felt like her skin was vibrating again. “That was a bad thing to ask. I don’t actually know anyone here yet, I just started this semester. Or, I will, when the semester starts! Cause I know I said I was here for class, but it’s more like a ‘catch up on what you missed!’ thing, not a class thing. Cause there’s some weird stuff going on with my credits and--” she paused, “--you...probably don’t care about that. Sorry. Again. I talk a lot sometimes. If you’re busy you can go do whatever it was you were doing. Don’t let me keep you! I didn’t mean to bother you about--” she still didn’t look around the classroom, just pressed her lips thinly together, staring hard at Nell, “--whatever caused this mess. Or-- I can walk you there! Wherever you were going. I don’t need to be where I’m going for like at least fifteen more minutes.” Because walking someone to their place was the polite thing to do, and whoever this girl was, maybe this part would rub off more than the whole exploding computer part. She could hope, at least. She grinned. “People always say small town, but I guess it really does apply here, huh!”

The nervous energy was practically rolling off the girl in front of her, and Nell supposed she couldn’t blame the witch if she was in the dark about her powers. To be magical and not know the reason for the chaos that ensued around yourself...surely it had to be unnerving. Nell couldn't fully grasp the concept, having known she was magical for as long as she could remember, but it was easy enough to begin to imagine the confusion and anxiety that might ensue from being a walking time bomb. “Well if you find any of the people I listed on campus you should say hi.” On second thought… “Especially Professor Beck.” If anyone would know what to do with a baby witch- it would be Morgan. And she had the added bonus of being mostly immune to the magical outbursts Bex might have. Nell waved a hand towards the girl and her apology, not paying it much attention before she said, “Don’t worry- I talk a lot too, sometimes. I do! Care though, I mean.” Nell cared if it meant she’d get to know this mysterious witch better. “I’m actually not really that busy.” Snooping on the human Ken dolls business could wait until later for she’d found someone much more interesting.

“It’d be great if you could walk me somewhere. I still get turned around here sometimes,” Nell lied, eager to have an excuse to spend more time with Bex. “Honestly I’m surprised we haven’t met yet with how small the town is.” And how violent your magic was. “But it looks like we’ve fixed it. Small town balance has been restored and we can all live in peace now.” With that and a small chuckle she began to lead the way from the computer lab, expecting Bex to follow her. and already having forgotten that she’d asked for help finding her way. “So you said your parents are lawyers?” And so began the prying as she walked the halls of the school, optimistic that the day would end with a new friend being made, and a new mystery to unravel.

[captaincvans]

Chapter Two: Mind Made of Stone

10/18/19

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 1807+

Warnings: Language! Sad!Chris

Series Masterpost

A/N: Sorry I kinda disappeared!! I basically re-wrote this entire series in the past week because i had a bunch of ideas for it, and didn’t like where it was heading. I hope you guys like this chapter~ Lemme know what you think 😊

Christopher Robert Evans was raised to be humble, and his mother taught him not to have his money or fame get the best of him. This was one of the main reasons he found himself doing his own taxes once he turned of age. It got a bit more difficult as he received more income, but he thought he did well. The IRS never came after him, so he assumed he was doing everything correctly. Almost a year ago, he had a few reunion with his college buddies, and he got the chance to catch up with his Jason Kwon, known in college for his drunken dart skills, now an accountant with a husband and two golden retrievers. Chris shared his struggles with his taxes, and Jason was quick to offer his help. Unfortunately, Jason had only bad news for him. According to his previous pay stubs and contracts, there should have been a lot more money in his account. 

Chris’s POV

I was finally heading home, filming had wrapped up late November, and I could finally enjoy December in Boston without worrying about my projects. Not that I had any lined up, I discretely took a break from it all since the investigation. The past few months were the most stressful time of my life. I was beaten down and exhausted, and I wanted nothing more than this whole ordeal to end already.  Jason insisted that I went through every role and contract I had, as well any royalties that was made in the last ten years. He wanted to do this as soon as possible to make sure that everything was resolved before I had to file my taxes. It was soon pretty evident that the middle-man was the cause of the whole issue. The middle man being my manager, Daniel Kolb. He was in charge of most of my finances, as in, he controlled the account that the money was going into. I still had my personal account, but most of my money sat in that account that he had control over. 

I felt relief that the press still haven’t caught whiff of the situation, with so many moving parts in the investigation I was worried that it would leak before I had the chance to clear things up. Right before I went home for the holidays, I was informed that Daniel made a deal with the police. He would say who else was in on the scam, and he would be sentenced to a lesser degree. I hated it, but I had to know who else would betray me like this. He only said one name, and it was the one I never would have thought. 

Y/N L/N. 

My guard was up the minute I came home. She betrayed my trust. I shared with her my fear of being taken advantage of, and my reservation for dating people outside of the industry. She knew that. Hell, she was the first one to bring up her discomfort with dating someone famous. It was something we were both insecure about. She felt like whatever she did would never be good enough financially, and I felt like if not my partner, the people around them could easily take advantage of my money and fame. 

I was picking up fights with her, I knew that and she knew that. I just wanted her to confess that she was taking money from me. I wanted her to tell it to my face. Whatever I did, she wouldn’t budge. She acted like nothing was wrong, and she was confused whenever I brought up our finances. We kept our accounts separate, something she said would give her comfort in knowing that she can still provide for herself and me. I kept pushing it until the breaking point. 

In reality I finished her decoy Christmas gift three months ago, and her real Christmas gift eight months ago. The chunky wool blanket I made her sitting patiently in the closet of my office where I knew she would never go into, and the beautiful cathedral setting engagement ring I hand-made sat in the locked drawer of my office table. Two items that I knew would never see the light of day. I wanted to burn them at the thought of her betrayal, clenching my teeth so hard, my jaw ached. I didn’t bother putting up a front with my family at Christmas, my disdain at its peak when once again she brought up splitting the cost for the gifts she bought my nieces and nephew. The truth would come out in a few weeks time, I just had to wait for the warrant to be approved before they could start investigating her accounts. When we finally got home, I wanted nothing more than to snuggled in to my bed. Y/N moved to the guest bedroom a week ago, and it’s been nice to have the whole bed to myself again. I was just about to make it to the stairs when I heard her voice. 

“Chris, can we talk?” I could hear the uneasiness in her tone, and wanted to scoff at her fake innocence. 

“About what?” I barked, my hand automatically going to my hip. 

“It was just really awkward today…” she trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip. 

I rolled my eyes. “Just because I didn’t get you a gift one time?!”

“No, no! It’s not like that- I don’t care that you didn’t get me anything. It’s just… I bought those Disney World passes for us… Daniel said you would be doing the last month of your filming in California so I figured I could take some time off and we can go together after you’re done.” 

“So you’re upset that I wasn’t more excited for it? Jesus, you know I hate it when you make plans without considering my plans. What if I don’t want to stay in California after filming? You know I only leave Boston when I have to.”“I know, but I thought it would be easier for you to stay in California for an extra month, instead of coming back here and having to spend money on another flight there.”

I scoffed, my arms folded in front of me. This is how manipulative she could get, I realized. She was trying to turn this around, as if she was doing me a favour. Before, I would’ve eaten this up, cooing at how kind and thoughtful she was, but now I know better. “It’s always about money with you, isn’t it?”

“What?! What do you mean?” She had the audacity to look confused and upset, but I can see through her. 

“You’re always talking about money- telling me that I should save here and save there when I want something, but when you want something you don’t care about my savings anymore.”

“Chris, I never asked you to-“ 

“We both know you’re only with me for my money anyways,” I spat, saying the words I’ve been wanting to say to her these past months. 

““Chris, what the fuck?! You know that’s not true-” she exclaimed, but I could only scoff.. “Chris, I love you for you- I don’t-”

I finally snapped when she said those three words. How dare she manipulate me, hurt me, and then tell me that she loved me. A burst of fury filled my heart as I spat out a couple of words strung together that I knew would end our relationship. “You love my money. You love being spoiled. Honestly, don’t know why I bothered with you- I basically was just paying you to hang out and have sex with me.” I was on a tirade, and I couldn’t stop. The words just coming out of my mouth like hot lava, and I could see her shrink away with every word, and that just made me angrier. “I should’ve just gone with a prostitute- they’re probably cheaper and at least they keep themselves in shape. You just look like you’ve really let yourself go- honestly, how much weight did you gain while you were fattening yourself up with my money?”

I could see the moment she knew this wasn’t just a small fight that I would eventually fix. This was huge, and I was pissed. “I think we should break up,” she said, her voice small. I raised my eyebrow, thinking she would put more of a fight into the argument, afterall she was with me for my money, but I guess the jig was up. She knew she was caught. I watched her pack everything, making sure she took only what she bought. She turned to look at me again, her fingers playing with the scarf she was packing. “Um- I’m not sure how you want to go about this, but I think you should know anyways, and if you want to call me after you’ve calmed down a bit so we can discuss this-”

“Discuss what?” I asked, my patience wearing thin at her hesitance. 

“I’m pregnant, Chris.”

I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. Was she serious? She was just gonna try to pull the oldest trick in the book on me. Does she think I was stupid? But I guess she was desperate. “Really? You’re gonna pull that one on me? I’ve had my share of sluts pretending to be pregnant with my baby. Stop lying to try to tie me down to you. It ain’t gonna work. You’re not getting any more money from me.”

“I’m serious, Chris. I could show-”

“Well, I don’t believe you. You probably got knocked up by someone else.”

“I never-”

“Just get out. I’ll leave your stuff with the concierge downstairs.” With that I opened the door for her, making sure she was heading out before closing the door. I felt relief wash over me as I removed that last toxic part of my life. Through all the anger, the emotion I felt the most was betrayal. I trusted her and loved her so much, and she went around to hurt me like this. I could finally feel the dam breaking as tears made my way down my face, my head falling to my hands as I continue to sob at the loss of everything I knew to be real. The family I trusted outside of my own family, and they all deceived me. I was at a loss on what to do, but at least there was one person I knew I could always count on. I called my mom. 

<– (Chapter 1)        (Chapter 3) –>

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[crapitskizaru]

Kidbad™️ x Reader (Sinbad!Eustass Kid)

I thinks after many glorious kidbad edits we need a scenario with his s/o from the movie 😂.Maybe the part when the island comes to life when they stoped to repair and arguining I can see them doing that.

Warning: dumbass kiddo cuz this is how im trying to comfort myself after dino disaster™️

Word Count: 1,6k

He caressed the ship’s side with affection, as if he was sharing an intimate moment with his lover.

“How did one person do so much damage?” he muttered more to himself than to the dog but Spike responded anyway, wiggling his tail enthusiastically. 

“You like them, don’t you?” Kid couldn’t help but pat the dog’s back. “You damn traitor.”

The island they temporarily stopped at seemed promising - at least from afar. They determined there should be enough wood to repair the damages; even though Kid knew the ship would have been fine without any renovations, his eyes hurt whenever they landed on broken pieces of once-impressive and, far more important, expensive mahogany carvings lying around the deck. 

“All right, listen up. We’re here for ten minutes,” Killer announced. “You get lost, you get left.” 

With a deep sigh, the captain gathered himself from the floor. His crew was already leaving the ship, mostly to feel a steady ground beneath their feet. Repairing their captain’s beloved ship was one of the lowest points on their list of priorities, but Kid couldn’t complain - as long as they brought the essential materials. 

“So I’m going to need a full set of chisels, the jack plane, and about a cord of cut wood.” 

“You heard the captain. Find some logs and be quick about it.” Killer grabbed a bucket and started getting off the ship himself. He wanted to add some comforting words at the sight of Kid’s pained expression when the man discovered yet another scratch on the ship’s side.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Your voice made Kid flinch halfway through patting the damaged railing. “You only need a little tree sap, and she’ll be as good as new.”

“When I want your advice, I’ll-” he stopped abruptly when you jumped onto the island’s ground, ignoring his words, a bucket in hand. “Hey, hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?” 

Kid tried to suppress the incoming wave of anger when all of the response he got from you was silence - and your back turned to him. 

“Well, fine. At least take someone with y-” 

Words got stuck in his throat and got smothered away as soon as he spotted the rest of his crew surrounding you, stupid grins plastered on their faces.

“Why, thank you,” you chimed, putting on a little act just to see the hateful expression of your captain’s. “How nice to see some men haven’t forgotten a little common courtesy.” 

Killer was about to leave the ship but he stopped at the sound of someone gritting their teeth. 

“Common courtesy,” Kid muttered. “Not so fast, Killer.” 

“But you know they’re right. The tree sap would be perfect for-” 

“Just. Stay with the ship.” 

Kid didn’t like the suppressed sigh of his first mate - this kind of sigh a parent lets out when their child keeps whining to get a new toy. Kid didn’t like the island either; the sun was shining just too brightly, the trunks of trees too thin to make use of, the ground far too dry. 

And them. Still accompanied by Kid’s dumb mates, they wandered around with that annoying, innocent expression on their face. Kid struggled to keep up on the steep hill of the island. 

“I already said ‘thank you’!” he yelled after the group. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” 

“It’s about repairing the ship.” You approached the first tree you could lay your eyes on. “If I break something, I fix it. Um, knife, please.” 

“Oh, yeah, like I’d give you a weapon?” 

Never before had Kid felt so betrayed by his crew than at that moment. The knives they always spent so much time on sharpening were now eagerly offered up to literally the worst person that ever walked on the planet. 

“Thank you, Heat,” you smirked flirtatiously and grabbed his knife. It took a lot of effort, but eventually you managed to cut through the tree’s bark and catch the flowing stream of its sap into the bucket. 

“You know, you really need to be more courteous, captain. He, he.” Heat didn’t get a chance to react when his captain’s fist landed directly on his face, sending him backward. 

“Oh, great,” Kid murmured. “Now I’m getting etiquette lessons from a fried bilge rat.” 

“Well, they did save the ship, captain.” 

“Why, thank you, Wire.” 

“And now they’re helping to fix it!”

“Very handy, I say. And brave-” 

“This...disaster of a person wouldn’t know how to fix a broken fingernail!” Kid snarled, waves of heat circulating through his chest. They already destroyed his ship, stole his crew, even his dog, with their stupid remarks and bravery. And charms. And their quick wits. And-

“Honestly, you’re the most boorish, pig-headed man I’ve ever met,” they complained, piercing him with a glare. 

“Oi, kitten. I’ve seen the highborn boys your type hangs out with...and I’m the only man you’ve ever met.”

By the shocked gasps his crew must have faked, Kid figured he may have gone too far - his worries evaporating in a speed of light as soon as a bucket hit the back of his head, cold, slimy liquid running down his spine. 

He turned around with a smirk. Did they really want to start a fight with him? 

“Oh, no. No, no-” You had to stop and close your mouth so that you wouldn’t swallow a missile of stinky mud which hit your face with surprising strength, making you stumble. 

He was unbearable. He was awful. He was just the worst.

“You...you...” You searched for an accurate adjective while wiping the mud off of your face. “Egoistical...” 

“You spoiled...” 

“-disrespectful,” A particular, and also quite unfortunate, lobster crawling around seemed just right to be used as a projectile so you picked it up. “Pretentious, pompous-”

“Deluded!” Kid shook his goggles to get rid of the tree sap inside of them. “High and mighty...” 

But you were already too pumped up to care about anything he wanted to say, now throwing every little, or not so little, thing that had been unlucky to lay within close proximity. “-self-centered, untrustworthy, ungrateful, impossible, insufferable...” 

“At least I’m not repressed!” Kid yelled, finally stopping your rant. 

“Repressed?” The question ended up being gritted through your teeth. “I’ll show you repressed!” 

You snatched a plank from the ground - it must have been attached to a root, but the boiling anger in your gut gave you a surge of strength as you lifted it up and was about to poetically slap your captain across the face and knock away that stupid expression. 

But before you made your new dream come true, the ground shivered underneath your feet. 

“What the...?” 

All the trees and bushes suddenly disappeared, as if sucked into the island. You were blinded by a sudden light and a lantern, a huge ball of white, moved towards your group. 

“Put it back,” Kid ordered, separating the words, and for once - you listened. 

If the island turned out to be an enormous sea creature...Your chances of making it back to the ship were dropping with each second. 

The ground moved again, revealing an eyeball the size of a swimming pool; and it was staring straight at you. 

“Ew!” you couldn’t help but flinch. 

“Ew!” Heat grimaced as he lost his balance and fell right onto the eye, landing on a slimy substance. “Ew!” he exclaimed once again when Spike started to lick the mucus with awful enthusiasm. 

“Run!” Kid’s roar snapped you out of the paralysis as all of your crewmates - including you - suddenly discovered their hidden talent in sprinting with the speed of light. “It’s a fucking fish! Killer!” 

You were far too scared to care about Kid practically shouting into your ear, your legs seemingly lifting you off the ground and into the air, gusts of wind blowing around your whole frame. 

Kid noticed the gap between the fish’s flipper and its body before you did. “Jump!” 

And so you jumped, not paying attention to how wide the gap was - for all you cared, it could be the size of the Grand Canyon and you would have still taken a leap - what mattered was getting to the ship in one piece and sailing away. 

You lost your balance on the other side, stumbling forward and into the arms of the most annoying man on Earth. But he did soften your landing, so you sent him a thankful smile. 

He was about to say something but you were soon whooshed away by the rest of the crew making it through the precipice, all of you sliding down the fish’s side - you were blinded by speed, tearing up, the rush of air knocking the breath out of your lungs. 

With the corner of your eye, you noticed Killer guiding the ship in your direction. 

Thank you, God, for Killer, you managed to think before you were once again launched into the air. 

You were already starting to worry about getting your face smashed into the wooden deck before a pair of arms caught you, and you found yourself in the embrace of the worst captain the world had ever seen. But you wouldn’t ever swap him for any other captain, no way. 

Landing on two feet beside Killer, you and Kid watched in awe as the giant fish moved from its previous spot, preparing to swim away and sending a whole wave of salty ocean water into the deck of the ship. 

As the fish submerged, only the creaking of the railing and the annoyed groans of the crew disturbed the silence. 

“I don’t know about you,” Kid panted slightly, taunting you with a raised eyebrow. “But I ain’t ever doing this shit again.” 

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor

Rating: M

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 4964

Summary: Simon is on a blind date, but there’s this guy who keeps catching his attention. Based on “I’m going to save you from this bad date” request from @krisrix and “I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor” by Arctic Monkeys.

Read on AO3

AN: Hello, I am back after a reluctant prolonged absence. My health has been in the shitter. Bad headaches, little sleep, and low energy all suck. This is M rated to be safe but there isn’t really anything explicit, just implied sex and a lot of horniness lol. Hopefully you all like it :D (Edit for Tumblr: something fucked up and deleted the read more break. I'm on my phone rn but I'll fix it when I get home. Sorry!)

———————————————

Simon

“This is a terrible idea,” I say again.

“It is not,” Penny replies, plucking lint off my shirt. “My friend says she’s really sweet and you two might get along.”

“And that matters because…?”

“Because you can’t stay cooped up at home. Time for you to go out and meet the world.” I blow air between my lips. “Don’t do your horse impression in front of her.”

I narrow my eyes. “Is setting me up on a blind date a way to vicariously fix your romantic life by fixing mine?”

“No, Mr. I Took One Psych Course.” I keep glaring at her. Penny’s shoulders fall slightly. “Okay, maybe. But I also think you two might be a good fit. So at least give it a shot, alright?”

I sigh heavily, shoving my hands in my pockets. “One drink.”

She grins brightly. “Awesome. I’ll be waiting back at the flat. Don’t stay too late.”

“I won’t. Bye, Pen.” 

“Bye, Si.” She presses a kiss to my cheek then walks off smiling. 

The second she’s out of sight, I slump forward with a groan. I don’t think she heard the resignation in my voice. Honestly, I really don’t want to do this. But I’m doing this for Penny, because she’s sad and I love her.

Ever since Micah broke up with her (arsehole), Penny has put the excess energy she used to waste on him into other things, including me. Guess if she can’t have a partner, she wants me to have one. Sure, I wouldn’t mind being with someone, it just hasn’t been a priority between uni and my mental health. Both are still not really great. I should be studying or something, but Pen says one night away won’t kill my GPA. She’s rarely ever wrong, hope she isn’t now. Hope this isn’t a total disaster…

I walk up to the nightclub door. It’s neon purple with a burly man at the entrance. I gulp down the lump in my throat. God, why am I so nervous? It’s just a date. This won’t kill me. I can do this. I won’t burst into flames no matter how much it feels like I will any fucking moment.

The burly man looks at me, the weirdo just standing six feet away from the door. “You going in or what, kid?”

I nod furiously. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

He holds out his hand. “Fifteen pounds, please.”

My eyes bug out. I expect him to start laughing, but he stays stone faced. “Fifteen bloody quid?! Are you kidding me?!”

“Nope. Pay up or leave.”

I growl and pull out my wallet. I slap the bills in his hand. “Fucking rip off.”

“I don’t make the rules, mate.” He puts the money in his back pocket and lifts the black velvet rope. “Welcome to Club Violet.”

“Thanks,” I grumble. Fifteen fucking quid. What am I, the Queen?

Club Violet absolutely lives up to its name. The whole place is different shades of glowing purple. It’s like if Queen Victoria opened a royal dance club. People shake and jump in a huge sweaty clump on the main dance floor while techno pop blares around us. It’s actually a pretty good song. Wish it wasn’t so loud though. There’s metal stairs with a chrome railing leading to the upper level. I check my texts again. Okay, so she’ll be at the upper bar, wearing a shiny pink dress. Cool, cool, I can find her.

I push through some giggling dancers and a couple snogging against the wall to get to the stairs. The top level is less crowded, mostly just people talking with their heads very close together. They’re smiling, giggling, kissing. They look happy. My heart aches a bit. Huh, I actually miss that, more than I thought than I did. This might not be such a bad idea.

The bar is nestled at the back of the floor. Bartenders in posh black shirts and vests shake those silver shakers I’ve seen in Bond movies. And at the front of the bar, stirring a margarita is a blonde woman in a bright pink, sparkly dress. Okay, deep breath, you can do this.

I walk towards her, head held high. I stand next to her. She has a pretty face and golden brown eyes. Let’s hope this goes well.

“Uh, hi,” I say with only a little nervous hitch. “Agatha, right?”

She turns her head. Her mouth pulls up slightly. Not a smile, but almost, I guess. “Yeah. And you’re Simon?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

We stand in awkward silence for awhile. My body and mouth feel utterly paralyzed with unsureness. She seems just as confused. Guess it’s been a very long time for both of us. I stumble forward onto a cushy violet stool.

“You wanna drink?” I ask.

Agatha holds up her barely empty margarita. “I think I’ll finish this one first, thank you.”

My cheeks heat up. I hope they’re not visible under the lowlight. “Uh, y-yeah, makes sense. I guess I’ll get one just for me then…” 

I wave at the bartender. They walk over with an extremely fake customer service smile. “How may I help you?”

“Can I get a…um…” I look at the drinks menu. It’s filled with weird punny names with liquors I don’t know. It makes my head hurt. I slap the menu down on the counter. “Pint of Guinness, please?”

“Sure, coming up,” they say and walk off. 

I turn to Agatha with a sheepish smile. “I like to keep things simple.”

“I can see that.” She takes a sip of her margarita. Her lipstick is a nice shade of soft pink. She has good taste in makeup at least.

“So, um, Pen mentioned you were in third year at University of London. What program are you doing?”

“Veterinary medicine at the royal college.”

“Oh wow, that’s cool. You wanna be a vet?”

She nods, swirling the drink in her hand. A small smile plays on her mouth for the first time. “Yeah. I hope to take care of horses.”

A small shiver runs down my spine. “Wow, um…sounds interesting.”

Her head tilts to the side in confusion. “Something wrong?”

“No, no. It sounds amazing. I just don’t have a good history with horses.” Her eyebrows pull together. “A police horse nearly trampled me when I was seven. Been a bit jittery around them ever since.”

Agatha nods thoughtfully. “Hm, I see. You probably did something to provoke the horse though, they don’t hurt people for no reason.”

My cheeks heat up, but from embarrassment unfortunately. “Oh…you’d know better than me I guess…”

Agatha takes a long sip of her drink in lieu of words. My pint of Guinness arrives on time. I take two big gulps, reveling in the distracting burn. I try to look literally anywhere else. There’s a neon purple flower on the wall. I see three people dancing together, smiling and laughing. I’m not usually a fan of dancing but they look like they’re having fun. I spot on a presumed couple sipping on the same fancy cocktail together. My eyes flick to Agatha. She’s staring straight ahead, totally uninterested in me. So y gaze keeps drifting, until it meets someone else’s. And I nearly choke on my beer.

Holy fucking shit, he’s staring at me. A gorgeous guy with reddish-gold skin, wavy black hair, and piercing grey eyes is looking right at me with a devilish smirk on his lips. He’s wearing  very fitting black skinny jeans and a short sleeved dark shirt. Well, technically he’s wearing a shirt, but it’s unbuttoned all the way to his navel so I don’t know if it counts. His beautiful eyes wander over me again and again, smirk slowly growing. Why is he staring at me? What the hell makes me so interesting? Is it getting hotter in here?

“Simon?”

I snapped back to reality from the deep sea grey induced daze. “What?”

Agatha’s brow is all pulled together. I can’t tell if it’s out of confusion or concern. “Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah, I-I’m fine.” I take another drink of my beer. “So, what else do you like?”

Agatha shrugs and goes back to looking at her drink. “I play lacrosse.”

“Yeah? Is that fun?”

“It is, until someone shoves you to the ground.”

I let out a small laugh. Agatha does the same, but quickly goes back to stirring her drink with a neutral expression. “What do you do? For fun, that is.”

“Um, some stuff…” I scratch my chin. This is harder than I thought. “I like gaming, fencing, baking, watching Dr. Who. That’s pretty much it.”

“Baking sounds fun.”

“Yeah it is!” I turn towards her with the brightest grin. “I’m learning this new technique for making scones. It makes a much lighter pastry, but it’s hard to get the same flavour, y’know? I’m trying to figure out how to compensate for that. I’ve been trying fresh ingredients, pure oils, lots of stuff. But really-”

I stop when I realise Agatha is looking at me with utter confusion. Right, not everyone understands baking science, or wants to know. I turn away from her and drink down the rest of my beer. It won’t help though. First year uni gave me quite a tolerance. I stare at the empty glass, swishing around the last bits of foam.

“So, how’s school going?” That’s a safe question, right?

“Oh it’s going fine.” Agatha replies. “There’s actually this one class I’m taking.”

She starts talking about her animal biology class. I try to listen, I really do, but my attention span is notoriously short. My eyes drift, and soon fall on raven hair.

The man isn’t staring at me anymore. He’s looking off to the side. I tilt my head slightly to the side. He’s talking to someone, a red haired man with a sly smile. They’re giggling and whispering together. My stomach feels weird. Must’ve had something bad for lunch. My eyes drag over him more carefully this time. He’s quite thin. Wait, no, not thin, lean. There’s strong muscles in his calves and upper arms, and his stomach looks very tight. I wonder how he got those. Football maybe? I could see that. Him running across the field at lightspeed, stealing the ball easily with his strong legs, flying across the field with ruthless grace. Part of me just really wants to see how he moves.

My eyes move back, only to meet Gorgeous Guy’s. Oh fuck, he’s looking right at me again. I can feel myself blush as I go rigid. His mouth pulls into that smirk again. It fits too perfectly on his sharp face, like he was designed to look so cocky and beautiful at the same time. My face feels so fucking hot right now. Damn clubs, no air conditioning.

“And that’s why you have to be very careful when treating young horses.” I refocus back on Agatha’s voice. She’s looking at me, gesturing with one and stirring the margarita with the other. I nod thoughtfully like I’m not an arsehole and I’ve been paying attention this whole time.

“That’s really cool, yeah,” I say. “You’re really into this stuff.”

“Of course, it’s my future career.”

My cheeks go redder. Between Agatha and Gorgeous Guy, I’m pretty much a tomato by now. “R-Right, course.”

We stare at each other. The awkwardness is so thick you could slice it in half. God, why am I so much worse at this than normal? My normal is pretty shit so that’s a real feat. There’s no flow or spark. I don’t think this is working at all. But I don’t know how to leave without being a total dickhead. What could I even say?  “Sorry but I don’t find you interesting enough to keep talking to you, I have to go.” ’ Instead I’m silent as a statue and more awkward than a fourteen year old at a school dance.

Agatha is drinking down the last of her margherita. I look pointedly away from her. And my eyes happen drift back to the guy. He’s still with the ginger bloke. It’s hard to tell if they’re talking or dancing. Maybe it’s both. Gorgeous Guy’s thin lips are moving slowly. His hips are swaying slightly, the curves of his body showing well through the tight jeans. I’m  fixated by the way he moves. It’s seamless and graceful yet so strong. He looks good dancing, even just a little. I wonder how he’d look if he was truly moving to the beat, swaying his lean body with purpose. He’s not looking at me this time. I kinda wish he would, honestly.

“I’m going to the toilet,” Agatha announces. She’s out of her seat and walking away before I can get a word out. Alright then.

I look at my glass, rolling the remaining foam back and forth. My mind is being way too chaotic for me to think straight, so I’m trying not to think at all. I just watch the white bubbles, back and forth, back and forth, just like that guy’s hips. I wonder-

“Hello,” a smooth voice says to my right. “How are you?”

I turn my head and nearly choke on my own tongue. It’s him. Gorgeous Guy. He’s standing right there, leaning against the bar with his hip cocked out, looking at me with that smirk and dazzling eyes. And I’m completely frozen.

“H-Hi,” I finally get out. “I’m, uh, fine. H-How are you?”

“I’m alright. May I ask you something?”

“Um, sure.”

“Are you on a date with the woman who just left?”

I scratch at my wrist, looking to the side in the vain hope he doesn’t see my blush. “Uh, sort of, I guess.”

The guy raises an eyebrow without moving any other part of his face. It’s very impressive. “Usually that’s a yes or no question.”

“Yeah, I know,” I chuckle awkwardly. “We’re supposed to be on a blind date, but I don’t think it’s going well.”

“Hm, yes, I assumed that when you kept staring at me over her shoulder.”

As if I wasn’t a tomato face before. I think my flush has reached the bottom of my neck. My mouth opens and closes like a stranded fish. His smirk only becomes more smug, and I find it so annoyingly attractive.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I’m sorry, that was rude a-and objectifying and I-”

“Did I say I disliked it? Remember, I made eyes at you first.” All the blood in my body rushes straight to my face. Gorgeous Guy leans closer. His long fingertips are nearly touching mine. “My name is Baz. What’s yours?”

“Simon.”

“Simon,” he echoes in his much,  much  sexier voice. “That’s a very pretty name.”

“T-Thanks. Your name is nice too.”

“Thank you.” Baz’s head tilts further to the side, showing off his long, graceful neck. “So, if your date is not going well, would you mind if I wanted to whisk you away from here?”

My eyes go wide and my heart starts beating double time. I’m not sure if it’s from the fear or the thrill of the idea. Do I really want that? When I look at Baz, all of him, I do. But could I do that to Agatha? Just because I’m not attracted to her doesn’t mean I should ditch her.

“Um, I-I do,” I say, “but I gotta go do something first. Wait here, please? I promise I’ll be back in a minute.”

Baz blinks rapidly. He looks like a very confused deer in the headlights.“Alright…”

With only a little fear, I reach forward and put my hand over his. He inhales sharply, and I swear, even in the lowlight, I see a blush on his face. “I just need to tell her I’m cutting the date short. I don’t wanna be a total arsehole. One minute and I’m all yours, I promise.”

That smirk comes back, but there’s something softer in his eyes. Less dagger like, more a pretty cloud on an overcast day. “Alright. One minute, I’ll hold you to that.”

I grin brightly. “Awesome.”

I squeeze his hand, and surprisingly, he squeezes back. I take one last look at him before dashing off like a madman.

I’m very lucky that in a dark club like this, the toilet signs have to be very bright to see. The woman’s toilet is on the far left of the upper deck. Not too far, but there’s a crowd of people between me and my destination. I push through the other night club goers, some wobbling, most swearing at me. Unfortunately I can’t explain to them that I need to tell my blind date that our date has to end so I can go hang out with an incredibly handsome man who for some reason is attracted to me. I’m not sure I could explain this to anyone and sound sane. I don’t care. Baz is waiting for me back at the bar. I’ll push through every one of these people to get back to him.

When I reach the toilet, I immediately spot a pink dress near the wall. Agatha is bent over her phone, blue light illuminating her pensive face. She’s typing really fast. I speed walk like a bloody madman.

“Agatha!” I call out. Her head snaps up.

“Oh, Simon,” she says, sounding far more shocked than I thought she would be.

“Hey, hey, sorry for barging up. Just, uh, we need to talk.”

“Okay…”

I scratch the back of my neck like some awkward teenager. “Um, look, I’m sorry I’m being an arsehole. You’re nice and very pretty, but I don’t think this date is working out. We’re just not…clicking, I guess. Which sucks but it’s alright. I-I just hope we can still be friends…”

Agatha blinks a few times at me. I wait for her to storm off or yell or something. Instead, she just smiles softly and nods. “Alright, yeah. I agree. I don’t think we’re a good fit as a couple.”

All of the tension drains from my body. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. I think you’re nice too, but it’s not going to work out. Maybe friends could better.”

“Yeah, yeah definitely. Wanna get coffee sometime? As friends?”

“I’d like that.” Her phone buzzes. She looks down and sighs. “I have to go. My friend Minty is here to pick me up.”

“Oh, okay.” The gears start turning in my head, and my eyebrows pull together. “Wait, were you just going to leave?”

Agatha looks down, probably to hide the embarrassed expression on her face. “Honestly, yeah. I didn’t want to make things awkward. I’m not good at saying goodbye to people…”

I’ll admit, it hurts a bit. But I also get it. I hated saying anything as a kid, especially something awkward. And I don’t think it’s my place to berate her right now. I nod slowly. “Alright. Well, hope you have a good rest of your night.”

“You too.” She goes towards the stairs. One step down though, she looks over her shoulder with a little smile on her lips. “Have fun with that bloke. He looks cute.”

Before I can answer, she’s off down the staircase. My face is going to get stuck blushing this much. After only a moment of shock though, I dash back in the direction of the bar. I’ve never been more nervous than I have been speed walking back there. But when I see Baz, with his hips against the bar, fiddling with his phone, I sigh in utter relief.

I take a deep breath, trying to hide just how out of breath and eager I am. Be cool, Simon, be cool. I walk towards with what I hope is a badass swaggering walk. Bloody hell, I hope I don’t look stupid. I really hope I don’t fuck this up.

“Hey,” I say, “I’m back.”

Baz’s head snaps up. I like the way his hair falls in a lazy wave, like a waterfall made from raven wings. (That poetry book Penny got me for Christmas has really expanded my metaphors, wow.) That softer, nicer smirk comes back. I love it more than the arrogant one, actually.

“One minute and thirty eight seconds,” he replies in a playful tone. “You’re late.”

I chuckle and rub my neck. “Sorry. There’s a lot of people here.”

“I’m aware. I’ve been looking through them all night.” His fingertips touch mine, sending jolts up my entire arm. “Until you caught my eye like no else did.”

“Really?” My heart rate is going nuts. It’s not arrogant, well, not totally. Everyone’s a little vain, after all.

“Mhm.” His hand moves slowly up my arm, stopping just above my wrist. “Blue eyes, bronze curls, tawny skin with constellations of freckles and moles. You were like the sun in this dark nightclub. How could I not be entranced?”

“O-oh.” All words have fled my tongue. Baz’s sweet voice and words have melted my brain into pure mush.

Baz’s hand moves further. His thumb traces tiny, wonderful circles on my upper forearm. He’s got these slight calluses that I can’t get enough of. “You have no idea how much I wanted to come up and talk to you right away.”

I pout slightly. “Why didn’t you?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. I like the way his hair moves. “Because you were  with someone, Simon. I didn’t notice her until after you started talking to her again. I wasn’t going to be that arse who stole someone’s date.”

“And yet you offered to whisk me away a few minutes ago.”

“Well,” he sighs, tracing patterns lazily on the inside of my elbow, “I tried to ignore you, I really did, but my eyes kept drifting to you. I didn’t think your date was going well but I still wasn’t going to intrude. I distracted myself instead.”

I frown deeply. “That redhead bloke.”

“Yes, Lamb. He approached me but I welcomed him.” His face becomes sly and devilish. The expression is eerily, like his face was made for scheming. “Were you jealous?”

I gulp down a large lump in my throat, unintentionally biting down on my bottom lip. From the way Baz watches my mouth I think he likes it quite a bit. “Maybe a little…”

“Mm, good to know.” Baz tilts his head, showing off that damn neck again. Is he doing that on purpose? “I’ll admit I was jealous. I desperately wished to be in your date’s place. When I glanced over a few times, I saw things may not have been going well. So when she left…”

“You jumped at the chance?”

“Precisely.”

I grin ear to ear. It’s strange to think I’d be so wanted by someone that they’d wait to talk to me, but I don’t  dislike it. Especially when they’re as pretty as Baz. I move forward this time, touching his forearm. His hands may be rough, but the rest of his skin is impossibly soft.

“I’m glad you did,” I say quietly. “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

Baz smiles too. It’s not arrogant, but genuinely happy and bright. “Me too. I thought you were gorgeous, but now I also know that you’re the kind of guy to make sure he says goodbye to his blind date, even when it didn’t work out. Who knew the gorgeous man would turn out to be kind too?”

Once  again, I am lost for words. I mean, what do you say to that? Glad you noticed? Arrogant. You too? Weird. Thank you? I guess, still feels awkward. It seems me gaping mouth is good enough for Baz, because he’s still smiling. He brings up his other hand and traces his rough thumb on my chin, just under my bottom lip. Dear Lord, I really want him to move it a little bit up.

“So I’m wondering,” he drawls, “if you would be so kind as to do something for me.”

“What?” I almost say  “anything,” but that’s just a little too desperate.

“Would you please follow me downstairs? Because ever since I saw you, I’ve thought about how lovely you would look on the dance floor.”

Is my brain dribbling out my ears? Because it bloody well feels like it. Baz’s skin may be cold but he’s burning me to a crisp. And I really don’t mind. 

“I-I can’t dance,” I whisper. I want him to know what a mess he’s getting into when he’s with me.

“No matter.” His thumb actually touches my lip. A harsh, beautiful shudder moves through my spine. “I bet you’ll still look gorgeous.” He tugs on my wrist with his other hand. “Shall we?”

All I can do is nod. Baz grins devilishly. He slowly weaves our fingers together one by one. Every touch threatens to make me burst into flames. “Then let’s go.”

Baz pulls me forward, and I happily trail behind him. We zig zag through all the sweaty people and soar down the spiral stairs. There’s some sort of techno remix of an eighties song. The singer keeps singing about a girl named Rio. (Weird name, but I don’t think I can talk much considering my last name is Snow.) Baz pulls us deep into the throng of dancing people. He finds us a small space in the middle of all of it. At first I think it’s too small, but when Baz presses almost his entire body against me, I quickly get the point. He puts his arms around my waist. I’m completely frozen.

“I still don’t know how to dance,” I shout in his ear.

Baz leans forward. His hot breath caresses my skin. “Put your arms on my shoulders, then follow me. It’s really easy. You just have to sway.”

I gulp and nod. I place my hands on his shoulders. They’re a bit boney but very nice. Baz slowly starts moving side to side. His hips move absolutely beautifully. He has perfect rhythm. He slowly sways to the thumping bass of the song while holding onto me tight, pressing us together so close. I can feel every part of him against every part of me. My eyes are glued to my hands on his shoulders. I’m pretty sure my entire fucking body is blushing now.

“You can move too,” Baz says. “Just follow me.”

I nod, even though I’m still unsure. I look down at his hips (holy fuck he’s hot) and try to copy him. Slowly, I move side to side, following him as best I can. I’m not as smooth and graceful as him of course. Baz helps, silently guiding me with his hands. We start moving in near perfect sync. And it feels absolutely amazing. Holy shit, is this grinding? I’ve never done it before, so if this is it, it’s bloody great.

My chest feels tight and breath is short, but in a good way. The fear and nerves are fading bit by bit. Slowly, I finally look away from my hand. I look at Baz’s face, and god, why haven’t I been looking at him the whole time? He looks even more gorgeous. The strobe lights perfectly illuminate the deep angles of his face. His hair falls in his face in a beautiful lazy wave. His eyes are absolutely dazzling, and they’re completely focused on me. He looks so good, somehow even better than before. My gaze flicks down to Baz’s lips. They’re hanging slightly open. The violet lights catch on them again and again. I can’t stop looking, and I don’t really want to.

I look up again, meeting Baz’s beautiful eyes. He’s looking down as well at  my mouth. God, I want him to be thinking the same thing I am. My arms quickly wrap around his neck, fingers pressing into his soft skin. Baz inhales sharply. For a second I worry he’s going to shove me away. But instead, I feel him pull my waist even closer, fingers digging into my back through my t-shirt. Our faces are inches apart, moving closer without us even realising it. My nose touches his, just barely. We’re breathing the same air. Maybe, just maybe…. Oh, fuck it.

I lean forward and press my mouth to Baz’s.

It takes less than a second for Baz to kiss me back. There’s zero pretense or nervousness. We move our lips fervently, mutual desire completely obvious. Baz sticks his tongue down my throat at the same time I tug harshly on his hair. Thank god the music is too loud for anyone to hear our groans. He bites down on my bottom lip and I feel like I’m fucking melting and exploding and dying. I kiss him like it’s a fight, and he doesn’t give an inch. We match so well. It’s perfect.  He’s perfect. God, I’m drowning in him, but I don’t want to come up for air.

Baz eventually, sadly, pulls away. He keeps his face close to mine. I study all the different colours in his eyes. I could do that forever.

“Want to get out of here?” he says. “I think I’d like to see you somewhere other than the dance floor now.”

I nod immediately. “Yeah, definitely, let’s go.”

Baz grins. It’s a mix between devilish charm and genuine giddy excitement. He grabs my hand, then we push through the throngs of people even faster than before. I can’t stop grinning for even a second.

We hop in a cab heading towards Canary Wharf. Baz takes me up to his flat, pins me down on his king sized bed, and proves once again that he is incredible with his hips. 

All in all, a fantastic night.

———————————————

AN: Needless to say, a spring in Baz’s mattress breaks. Hope you liked it! Simon was a bit of an ass, yeah, but imo so is Agatha. In my mind they meet up later and talk properly without pressure to date awkwardness and they become really good friends. In the end they’re both happy. I liked writing this because I love the prompt and I love the song. Arctic Monkeys fucking rule. Hopefully my next fic will be out soon. Have a good day!

[strayneoculturekids]

I’m So Sorry - Felix x Reader

enemies to lovers AU, childhood friends AU, Highschool AU

Genre: fluff, angst

Pairing: black belt!Felix x black belt!Reader

You timidly walked up to the dojo, maybe you were about seven years old? It was the day of your first taekwondo lesson and your nerves were all over the place, your emotions jumping from being excited to learn how to fight to being nervous about what would happen.

Standing outside of the front door, you took in a deep breath, clutching tightly onto your mother’s hand, asking her to wait a bit before going in. She laughed a bit and told you not to be silly.

Just as she was about to push against the door, there was an excited shout from behind you. You turned around, seeing a boy about your age, but shorter. You two made eye contact and he instantly made his smile larger than it already was, giving you an ecstatic wave. You smiled brightly back before being pulled into the dojo by your mother.

You finally saw the inside, eyes widening at the extensive equipment.

“Mommy! What’s that?!” You asked, jumping up and down, pointing at a pile of kicking pads

“You’ll learn soon” she giggled, smiling sweetly at you

You pouted before continuing to walk further into the building, turning around when you heard the door open behind you open, seeing the boy from just a few moments ago again, the same awe evident on his face like yours.

From that day onwards, you’d come to that same dojo at least twice a week, meeting with your coach as well as your classmates, the little boy who you had come to know as Felix from your first day included.

You and Felix instantly became best friends. You two would hang out constantly, always laughing together. You were inseparable for about four years. That is, up until year 5.

Felix ran ahead of you, turning around and beginning to run backward to face you.

“Come on slow-poke! Bet I can beat you to the dojo”

“You’re on!” You yelled, catching up with him

You arrived at the dojo together, both completely out of breath, faces red, leaning up against the wall for support.

“Well, shall we go inside?” Felix asked

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath while pushing open the door; still hauling your taekwondo gear along with you, Felix followed closely behind.

You were greeted at the room by your coach.

“Ah Y/N! Felix! My blue belts! You two are early. Oh well, go get changed and could you start stretching without me?” he asked

You two nodded eagerly, going to the separate change rooms split by gender; quickly getting changed and meeting back outside to stretch.

A few minutes had passed and your coach finally called the pair of you over. He quickly explained to the entire class that you would do your first sparring session with each other today. You and Felix looked at each other excitedly before rushing off to the room with the pads with the rest of the class, having seen the room dozens of times and desperately wanting to try on the unfamiliar gear.

Once all changed, the class got into pairs, you and Felix naturally getting together. By this time, Felix was still shorter than you, so you were nearly separated by your coach before you guys clung tightly to each other's hands refusing to let go. Finally, he jokingly sighed and left you two be.

“Attention!” he called once everyone had found a pair and was facing each other. You all immediately reacted, standing straight, arms by your side, staring at your partner in the eyes, it was obvious everyone was trying not to laugh “Ready!” he yelled. Everyone put their hands out in front of them, separating their legs slightly. “Start!”

You and Felix smiled at each other before Felix made the first move quickly moving in, trying to swing a turning kick at your chest. You jumped back and did a sidekick, pushing him back. The fight went on for a while before finally, you did a side kick strong enough to push Felix onto his butt. He sat in shock for a while.

“Ah! I’m sorry Felix!” you said, panicking “Are you ok?”

“...I’m fine,” he said, voice deeper than usual

“Oh...ok, if you’re sure” you muttered, frowning

After that Felix began to distance himself from you, not even speaking to you during lessons. You didn’t think anything of it and thought he just wanted some alone time. It wasn’t until you got into year 6 that you realized just how much of an overreaction it was. It was only one fight. Suddenly he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore?

“You and Felix aren’t hanging out as much anymore?” your mum said, making it sound more like a question

“Well, I guess he’s just being an overdramatic pre-pubetic tweenage boy” you said simply, crossing your arms, a bit mad a Felix

“What happened?” She asked, raising a brow

“I beat him in a fight; like, last year. He’s just being stupid.”

“Don’t call people that!” you mom scolded

“I’m in year 6 now!” You said, stomping your foot

Your mom gave you a side-glare; huffing, you immediately shut your mouth, not wishing to be lectured so late in the afternoon.

From then on, you and Felix didn’t associate unless you absolutely had to. Every time you guys were forced into a pair for sparring matches, the winner would change every time, nurturing your growing hate for each other.

Year 11; present day. You and Felix hated each other with a seething passion, much to the confusion of everyone around you two. It was evident to all your friends that you and Felix would make an awesome pairing if you could just talk! But both of you were too stubborn for that. Felix didn’t hate you for beating him in that first fight anymore, he realized how immature and stupid that was when he got to year eight, but hating you had just become so routine that he didn’t even make the effort to apologize.

You were going along the school hallway next to one of your friends Jeongin, last period just came to an end and it was way too busy to move properly. Amidst all the chaos, Felix brushed past you, knocking your shoulder, obviously on purpose while giving you a glare. You stared daggers at him right back while your friend looked at you, his lips pressed together, not wanting to be caught in the middle of your and Felix's silent proclamation of hate for each other, despite having seen it a million times over.

“I don’t get why you two hate each other so much” he murmured “You’re both so similar, you’d make the best friends ever!”

“We already tried that in year one to year five. Didn’t work.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, having heard the story multiple times “People change, you know?”

“Whatever.” You huffed “On a happier note though, I got my black belt 2nd Dan yesterday’s exam! Before Felix!”

“I’m proud of you! But...don’t compare yourself to Felix...” he said, getting out his phone to check his messages “Oh!” he exclaimed

“What happened?” You asked

“...nothing...”

“Not buying it.” you looked at him sternly

“Um...Felix also...happened to get his black belt like...two days ago? Channie just messaged me”

“fuck!” you whisper-shouted under your breath “Whatever. I’ve gotta head off to my lesson now. Cya I.N” you gave his cheeks a pinch, much to his displeasure, before skipping off

You started making your way to the dojo, making sure to go the long way just so you could avoid bumping into Felix on the way there. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Felix had the same idea

“Y/N” he greeted curtly, his now taller figure towering over you

“Li-Felix” You spat, never really having got out of the habit of calling him by his nickname

Although he didn’t show it on the surface, every time you almost called him ‘Lix’, his heart began to pound in his chest, a muddle of emotions making their way in there.

Felix glared at you before running ahead of you, wanting anything but to walk by your side, afraid he might end up wanting to hug you. You stared at his back, shoulders beginning to slump, a few memories from when you were little coming back. When you and Felix would play and laugh together. It would be so easy to just...go up to him and apologize, tell him you wanted to be friends again. The question is though, does he want to be friends again? You wanted to spare your heart so...the safest option would be to just continue hating him.

You arrived at the dojo about a minute after Felix.

“Y/N! My other black belt has arrived! Felix is already getting changed. He looked like he was about to cry when he passed me. Do you know anything?”

You confusedly raised a brow, heart beginning to hurt slightly at the phrase. “No...I don’t know anything” you said honestly. Why would Felix be crying?

Brushing the thought away, you went to the girls changing room to change into your gear, putting on your newly taped belt with a warm smile before letting it drop once you stepped back outside, making eye contact with Felix, looking down soon after and seeing he had the exact same belt as you.

“Y/N, Felix, can you two come over here for a second?” your coach asked

You both immediately obeyed, peeling your eyes away from each other’s belts and fixing your gaze on your coach, lightening up your expressions.

“There’s going to be a competition in about three months. You two want to enter?

“A competition like...with other dojos?” Felix asked excitedly

Despite you two having done taekwondo for about a decade, you’d never actually entered a full-fledged competition.

Your coach nodded and you and Felix both smiled, turning your heads towards each other, happiness twinkling in both of your eyes before realizing what was happening. You both coughed awkwardly while dropping your gazes, turning away from each other once again, much to the disappointment of your guys’ coach. It really hurt his heart to see you guys go from best friends to...this.

“Uh...I’d love to enter!” you said, turning back to your coach

“Yeah...same...!” Felix said, his bright smile finding its way back into his face

“Great! You two should train with each other, you’re the only two black belt Dan two students as of right now”

You and Felix both pursed your lips together, watching in defeat as your coach turned around to go train the lower belts with the other coach.

“...I guess if we want to enter...” you started, scrunching your nose

“...yeah. Just hurry up and put on the padding.” Felix said bitterly, turning around to go to the room with all the sparring gear

You rolled your eyes as you watching Felix leave, following after him shortly.

Once you two both had the proper gear on, you went to a spare room, stood across from each other, standing to attention and bowing alone before getting into ready position

“Ready?” You asked

Felix nodded

“start,” you both said at the same time

Felix started off with a turning kick to your chest, you dodged, sidestepping to his left and delivering a side kick to his front once he turned to face you. He stepped back a few paces before going in again with a tornado kick, trying to throw you off. This continued for what must’ve been another 15 minutes, the both of your throwing in a mix of simple and complex kicks and punches.

Finally, you fell down back on your butt from exhaustion, Felix following immediately after. You both stared at each other, not glaring for once, both of you just trying to catch your breath.

“We’ve gotta bow again” Felix began to get up, still breathing heavy

“Leave it.” you said, swallowing your spit, flopping backward “It’s not an official match or anything and we’re the only ones in the room.”

Felix frowned before sitting back down

After you both had finally caught your breath, a thick layer of awkwardness and tension set itself into the room.

“Well,” Felix started “I should go now, I have something on” He got up for the second time and immediately left, not even saying goodbye to you.

You leaned back sighing. Everything seemed so serene when you and Felix were in the same room and not glaring or fighting. It felt really nice, but those moments never really lasted for long. Just a few seconds of you two reminiscing on how it used to be.

The three months passed quickly, you and Felix training your asses off while simultaneously trying to juggle school work and your mixed emotions for each other.

The day before the competition arrived and you and Felix were practicing in the spare room like almost every day before this one; glaring daggers at one another whenever given the chance.

It was just a no-contact spar this time since neither of you wanted to waste too much energy, so there was nothing too complex going on either. Felix began a turning kick once again, aiming at your head but not actually planning on hitting it. Before he could bring his leg back, you side-stepped into the spot Felix was aiming for; the kick knocked you on the head before either of you could react, resulting on your plummeting to the floor, hitting your head in the hardwood floor off the floor padding.

“Oh my god!” Felix yelled, leaning down “are you ok? I’m so sorry!”

“I’m...fine...” you said slowly beginning to get up before falling back down again.

Felix’s eyes widened before he ran to get his phone, immediately dialing 911 and quickly explaining the situation, panic evident in his voice. Once he had hung up, he immediately knelt down next to you grabbing one of your hands.

“Y/N, hey, squeeze my hand if you’re conscious”

You barely squeezed Felix’s hand, trying not to faint from the pain or the impact.

“Ok, ok. It’s ok. I’m here, just breathe, don’t fall unconscious” He said, attempting to stay calm while your guys’ coach entered the room with temporary medical supplies

Soon enough, the ambulance arrived and took you as Felix watched, practically helpless to the whole situation.

Night time came around and Felix was waiting at the hospital you were taken to, sitting next to your parents who were overjoyed to see him there, thinking you and Felix had become friends again. He almost didn’t explain the situation to them out of guilt but decided that not explaining would leave him feeling even more guilty.

Nothing too serious happened so you were let out about eight hours later once everything had been checked. Your parents were first to greet you, hugging you and making sure you were ok.

“Can I speak with Felix? Alone?” You asked after assuring them everything was fine

They both nodded, while you took Felix outside to a secluded area.

“Felix-”

“Look,” he started “I’m really sorry but...you should have been more careful”

“I...I should have what?”

“Been more careful. If you noticed I was going to kick you then-”

“You’re blaming this on me?! You’re the one who shouldn’t have been kicking so hard in a non-contact spar!”

“Oh my god! This is why I hate sparring with you! You’re never careful! You’re too reckless!”

“Speak for yourself!” You yelled, “What’s your problem?!”

“AGH! YOU’RE SO FRUSTRATING!! Look at you! You’ve been the same belt as me since day one! Sometimes I think you’re just trying to copy me!”

“Are you fucking serious right now?! LISTEN TO YOURSELF FELIX! You’re not the only one who genuinely likes this sport!! Stop being so fucking full of yourself! Just worry about yourself! That’s all you’ve ever done anyways!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“Ever since that day I beat you in our first sparring match!! You’ve just been distancing yourself and didn’t give a shit about how I felt!! Ever think ‘Hey, maybe I should apologize to my best friend for acting so immature’??? No! You didn’t!”

“OKAY! IM SORRY! It was immature of me but...God! I wish you’d just listen to my advice!!” He said, eyes becoming wet

“What advice?!?!”

“Be more careful for god's sake! You’ve always been too reckless!”

“Why do you even care anyway?!” you asked, tears beginning to well up in your own eyes

“BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU! OK??”

You stood there, eyes wide with surprise, not knowing what to say or how to reply to Felix’s sudden confession

“I JUST-” he continued “I don’t want you to hurt yourself!! And this time it wasn’t even you!! It was me! I hurt you!! And I-” Felix took in a deep breath before going on “It just seems like that’s all I ever do!!! I’ve loved you for so long but have always been too proud to admit it and it seems like I’m just hurting you everywhere” Tears were openly spilling from his cheeks by now

You covered your mouth, watching as Felix sunk down onto his knees, beginning to cry into his hands. You dropped down, grabbing Felix’s hands, holding them tightly in your own and meeting his gaze.

“I’m so sorry...” You said slowly

“Why are you sorry...?” He asked, trying not to let his sobs show through

“I just am” You pressed your forehead to his, caressing his cheeks, wiping away some of the tears with your thumb

“I guess, neither of us are going to that competition tomorrow?” He asked

“No...I think you should go. It’ll be good for you, you’ll get to spar with a good partner” You spoke with a hint of sarcasm

“Hah...I didn’t mean it when is said I hated training with you, you know that, right?”

You nodded, leaning forward to peck Felix’s lips, leaving him in shock before getting up, wiping off any stray tears and then pulling Felix up with you.

“Come on, let’s go. You need to get a lot of sleep tonight”

BONUS

You cheered from the sidelines watching Felix fight, being careful of your head as the doctors had instructed. 

The fight felt like it went on forever, cheers being present throughout the entire match, running your throat dry. Eventually, Felix was declared the winner. You smiled widely as he ran up to you, enveloping you in a large hug.

“I love you” He whispered

“I love you too,” You said back, pushing him away so he could go collect his prize 

[httphonsool]

all the strings are attached

word count: 5,267

time taken: 5/6 hours

author’s note; I feel like this could have been a lot better but for now this is all I got, I’m working on Jungkook’s and Tae’s fics as well so don’t worry, there’s more coming soon

synopsis; in which it turns out that you care for your best friend too much, so much so that he ends up wanting no strings attached.

                                       ⤫⤫⤫

Ah, pain. Pain was something you had felt more than often (unfortunately) throughout your entire life; when you were five you broke your arm, when you were nine you accidentally stepped on a piece of glass (you didn’t even realise, stupid child), when you were thirteen you fell and scraped your knees on hard, gravelly ground and ended up having scarred knees for the rest of your life, but nothing compared to the pain you willingly chose to put yourself through when you made the biggest mistake of your life: you decided to start sleeping with the man you found yourself falling for, ha, no, that’s a joke…you had already fallen for him.

No strings attached. That’s what you had decided, and you were willing, so willing, because how else were you supposed be as close to him as you always wanted to? This was your choice, you wanted to be able to regret it, but this was your only chance, to know how it feels to be close to him, be with him even if it was just lust driving you both; to sleep with him meant that he wanted you in some kind of way, and that meant more to you than anything else. No matter how shallow it was. It was a poorly made choice, one that was made when the two of you were drunk out of the universe and wallowing over stupid things like how someone took the last burrito during lunch break at college all those years ago or how he really, really craved attention from the girl he loved: the girl that technically caused your friends with benefits situation. You didn’t know whether you wanted to thank her because she helped start this lustful relationship between you two or whether you wanted to kick her because she was the reason he was still moaning her name while you were with him, the reason why you felt dirty while you slept with him, because though, yes, at times you believed he wanted you, but you knew you were just a replacement, an object in place of her.

♔

‘I just- I just really wanted a burrito, Jimin, it was my only love,’ you wail, sobs wracking your body, vision blurred because of the all the alcohol screwing up your system.

‘I get that, sometimes, I just want her attention, you get me? Ever since the night I…’ he trails off, and even in your drunken state you’re thankful he did because you don’t want to know what they did, ‘___? Could…could we…could you take my mind off of…you know, Eunha? I know you’re still broken up over the burrito, but maybe I could, um, help you with your burrito problems as well?’ his voice gets smaller as he continues talking but you knew you were going to say yes as soon as he said your name.

‘Really, Park? You’d do that for me?’ you ask him, crawling into his lap, taking no notice of the, er, situation, he was in, you could feel something poking your thigh, but honestly you were drunk and you couldn’t care less.

‘Yes,’ and he leans in, darkened eyes, pupils blown wide, cupping your face with one fragile hand and dragging his other hand up and under your shirt starting to trace sweet patterns into the small of your back.

One of the last things you remember from this night is the way his soft lips encase yours, this memory and another memory from later on that night, one you could never forget-

‘Yes, Eunha, just like that…’ he whimpers, moaning and groaning.

Ha, you should have known.

♔

Dumb girl, told yourself you could handle it, ha, well obviously not, not anymore, you were so stupid, but hey, at least you weren’t didn’t let him take your virginity while you were drunk. It’s been almost six months since that day you started this, did you regret it? No, because this was your only chance, remember? And now you were left with an aching heart, one that probably couldn’t be healed, but that’s okay, you were doing this for Jimin, because he wanted to be distracted from his oh-so-dear Eunha, and you just wanted a piece of him, because you knew there wouldn’t be another chance other than this.

Jimin had never been a strings attached guy anyway, because strings were too complicated, there was almost always so much mess left behind when there were strings, and he didn’t want to be caught up in chaos, no, he preferred things to be simple: black or white, he cares or he doesn’t, it’s sex or it’s more than that. He was always so simple, so carefree, and then you introduced him to Eunha. Now, Eunha was a sweet girl with an even sweeter knife to stab you in the back with, it’s safe to say you never liked her, but when you moved to Seoul, into the big city, you knew no one other than her, having known her since you were a small little child in a cot, so you had to put your faith in her, it’s also extremely safe to say you shouldn’t have trusted her at all, Eunha was the reason you lost your first job in Seoul, those details you’d rather not go into but I guess that was a reason you should be thanking Eunha; if she hadn’t lost you her job, you wouldn’t have ended up meeting Jimin that day whilst crying in the local Starbucks, drinking a good old caramel macchiato.

♔

‘You know, I could probably feel your negative energy all the way from space, why the long face?’ You look up to see a gorgeous boy; golden hair that was obviously dyed, a cute smile was rooted on his face (God, he had such plump and delicious lips), causing you to take out your earphones and pause the song playing, you should have known then you were absolutely fucked.

‘Hmm, I don’t know, I don’t know you, you could end up kidnapping me,’ you try to joke, but your usual charisma isn’t able to shine through today.

‘My name’s Jimin, see? You know me now,’ he giggles, and my God was his giggle cute.

‘I’m ___, so do you usually stalk strangers?’ you ask

‘No, no, you’re the only exception,’ he bobs his head up and down, another giggle leaving the confines of his pink lips.

‘I feel honoured,’ you’ve managed to crack a smile, what is it about him that could make you smile even through your darkest nightmare?

‘I’m glad you do, so why the long face?’ This Jimin boy is very persistent.

‘I lost my job,’ you claim, he doesn’t need to know why, or how, it’s unnecessary.

‘I can fix that,’ he says, his smile growing bigger.

‘Uh, sure,’

‘No, I’m serious, how do you feel about music? Any good with lyrics? How about makeup?’ he asks, he seems so sure he could help you, and maybe he could, after all you were great with lyrics, growing up in a small town where music was everything, you had learned to have a way with stringing lyrics together to express your emotions.

‘I guess I’m okay with lyrics…’ you trail off.

‘Hmm, well then give me your number and we can figure something out,’ he gives you a very cheesy wink, one that managed to make you choke out a laugh.

‘Wow, very smooth, Jimin, do you use that on all the girls?’ You ask, arching a neatly groomed brow.

‘No, no, again, you are the only exception,’ his head bobbles in its place, a proud and satisfied smile planted on his face.

‘Again, I feel very honour-’

‘___? There you are! I was looking for you everywhere,’

God no, please don’t let it be-

‘Eunha?’ You swivel your head around to see your childhood “friend” glaring at you, panting, hmm, maybe she did have a little bit of a soul if she ran to find you.

‘And who’s this, ___?’ her beady eyes eyeing Jimin up and down thoroughly, probably examining whether he was to be her next victim, hmm, another thing you were going to have to share with Eunha.

‘Hi, I’m Park Jimin, and you are?’ a mischievous glint in Jimin’s eyes

But looking back now, maybe he was always supposed to be hers.

♔

Why were you so hopelessly in love with him? Your mother had told you once that once you know you’re in love, there’s no painless way out, so maybe that’s why you haven’t tried, because you know it would hurt more than to be in love with him. Or maybe you were just in too deep to ever get out of it, Jimin often told you that you were one of the strongest person he knew, so why was it that around him, no matter how comfortable you were, you became a weak excuse of a woman that according to the man you love was supposed to be one of the strongest.

Most nights thoughts of Jimin keep you up, especially when you knew he was with Eunha. Often they would go out and you would have to sit there on his couch knowing that when he came back he would screw you, one hundred percent guaranteed it was only because he couldn’t screw Eunha…and you were the next best thing. You can’t comprehend why he still loves her, well, there for him there isn’t a reason to not love her, he doesn’t know about all the times she did you so dirty, doesn’t know that the reason you know work with him is because Eunha managed to make you jobless, to him she’s perfect: a beautiful angel but if she’s an angel then you’d rather end up in hell.

What was it about him that you were in love with, huh? Oh, right…it was the little things, was it not? How he’d always cuddle you to sleep because you were just comfortable and soft compared to him, how he’d always play with your hair and braid it just because he wanted to, how he’d wipe off your minimal makeup and tuck you into bed if you fell asleep on the couch after a long day, how he’d always inspire you for your lyrics; he didn’t know it then and he definitely won’t know it now but he’s always been your muse since you’ve started this job.

It aches you, your love for Jimin is always stronger than anything else, whatever it is, whatever he needs, you’ll always drop everything for Jimin, and it doesn’t matter why because you already know it’s because you’re in love with him, and he’ll never know, no, he doesn’t even need to, because he’ll probably end up with Eunha at some point, he’ll be happy, something you’ve always wanted for him, and then he’ll no longer need you, Eunha will end up stealing everything as always and you’ll be left on the sidelines broken beyond repair shattered to a million pieces once more, and after that he’ll probably want to move in with her, so that’ll mean you have to move out, but you’re prepared, in fact, you’ve already started looking at new apartments, it’s only a matter of time before you’re not needed, so you’ve prepared yourself: putting yourself in every worst-case scenario you can imagine so you can handle it when the time comes, and you know it’s likely to come soon.

When you look back at it, you can’t even imagine a life where you didn’t know Jimin, you’re so lost and caught up in pining after him that you’ve become so selfish and needy, you’re no longer grateful for the time you both spend together, there are moments when sometimes his behaviour makes you believe that maybe, just maybe, he does love you, but all of that comes crashing down on you when one of you receives a call from darling, angelic Eunha.

You often wish Eunha didn’t exist, no, you need Eunha to not exist, you don’t know whether she does it on purpose or whether she has completely no clue on how badly you’re in love with Jimin and need him, but you need her gone, not only because she’s pretty much claimed Jimin, but because she’s also dragging him along, even after three years she’s still the same as before; playing with people and hurting them in the end, and you know that this is no different: she’s just dragging it out longer than usual. What for, you ask? You have no clue.

♔

So now, as you sit on Jimin’s couch, waiting for him to come back from Eunha whilst you watch Episode 3 of Itaewon Class (Taehyung mentioned the series to you one time when Jimin brought you on tour with him because he “couldn’t stand the thought of you alone”) you can’t help but wonder if this was the day he’d ask her to be his girlfriend, hmm, or maybe Eunha would actually ask him, or maybe (the idea you preferred) Jimin would break things off with Eunha completely and move on…because he deserved so much better, not someone like you because people like you, people who relied on him too much, survived because of him because they can’t breathe without him, weren’t good enough for him either.

An hour passes, maybe two, and he’s finally back, walks into the apartment covered in lipstick stains and the smell and buzz of alcohol mixing with his usual husky cologne that he’s loved ever since you once bought it for him whilst out shopping for groceries, you would have thought he looked hot, and he does, he looks like a God, but those lipstick stains aren’t yours…and that’s what has you numb and stuck in place.

He’s never come back with lipstick stains.

‘___? Are you here?’ Jimin slurs out, it’s like a trigger was just pulled, and you’re up, pulling him into the bathroom and fetching your makeup wipes, because you know he’d rather not go to sleep all messy and dirtied up from the night before, it’s little things like these that are the reason you both get along so well.

And you’re doing fine in not breaking down at the sight of Eunha’s signature red stamp on Jimin’s neck, and on his soft lips, the neck that you’ve given countless hickies to on the nights he needs a distraction, the lips you’ve kissed countless times, the lips that have had you screaming for hours deep into the night, but then he holds your hand, stopping you from wiping the rest of the stains off.

‘Do you see what she did, ___? Does it bother you at all? How do you think Eunha would feel if she found out that every single time I come back from our fake little dates, I’m going to be sleeping with you, that I’m going to make you scream my name instead of hers?’ Oh, he’s good, he really knows how to make you feel even when he’s drunk, your little sessions usually tend to start like this, he reminds you of Eunha, tells you how naughty you are, ha, you both basically get off on the root of your pain, if it didn’t make you feel hurt after you slept together maybe you’d even laugh at yourself. Jimin cocks his head, letting go of your hand, smirking and-

‘Go on, ___, wipe the rest of them off,’ his smirk turns into a smile, and all of a sudden adorable giggles are bursting from his mouth, God, you hate his mood swings when he’s drunk. So you continue with your actions, wiping the rest of the stains off, you even get him a change of clothes and the grown man makes you change his clothes for him, but of course, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, and you know you can’t trust him when he’s drunk anyway, and everything’s fine, he’s settled down in bed and you think you can trust him so you decide to go shower, oh how wrong you were.

You’re in absolute shock as you feel hands pressing you up against the shower wall.

‘You know, the first time I saw you in Starbucks I thought you were absolutely gorgeous, ___, and then Eunha decided to show up and ruin our little conversation…hmm, what a shame, am I right?’ you squirm in his grip, struggling to turn around and face him, until he decides to have mercy on you and turns you around himself, and your met with the Goddamn man himself, Park Jimin, ‘We weren’t done from earlier, ___, now tell me, does it bother you at all? Me and Eunha?’

You shake your head rapidly, you’re lying, and he’s probably guessed that, good thing that Jimin doesn’t remember shit when he’s drunk.

‘I expect an answer,___, and no lies,’ he pauses, his dominant demeanour fading for a complete second, ‘and if you’re not lying…then please lie, just for tonight, ___,’ and that triggers it, that’s it for you, you don’t care whether he means it because he’s drunk or not, you kiss him with all of the love you have for him, because ever since you’ve met him he’s captured entire soul, your world, he’s your world now, and you want him to know that, even if it’s just one night, even if he’s drunk.

And that’s when he lifts you up against the shower wall and you wrap your legs around his torso, he’s sucking on your neck, it feel so right, you’re in complete paradise, an island of bliss, and your dumbass brain decides to-

‘Jimin, the water bill,’ you mumble,

‘I don’t give a shit, just let me love you for one night,’ he whispers into your ear, and that’s how you know you’re damn well deep inside the never-ending abyss you call your love for Jimin.

Because when he says shit like that, you’re done for.

♔

The next morning, you’ve decided you need to stop this, stop this before either one of you fucks up and all of a sudden you aren’t friends any longer, you’ve also decided that this isn’t fair on him and Eunha, no matter whether it’s serious or not with them, it’ll hurt for a while, not having Jimin, that is, you’ve also solidified your decision when Eunha calls you early in the morning, you would love to say you had a pleasant chat with her but, well, you didn’t.

‘I heard a little something yesterday while I was out with Jimin,’ you don’t like the way she says his name, it’s as if she believes he’s some object that has to be claimed.

‘What did you hear?’ you ask her, you have a feeling you already know, I mean, Jimin has a tendency to spill things on accident while he’s drunk.

‘Hmm, nothing much, he just said something about you guys sleeping together, so I had to leave a little signature stamp if you know what I mean.’ That sick bitch.

‘Thank you, I left some stamps as well last night, I hope you enjoy seeing them today on your little date,’ you shouldn’t have just said that, because you know it’s wrong, that you’re almost as bad as Eunha, and you know that dear, angelic Eunha gets jealous as hell very easily, and she doesn’t like it.

‘Just stop sleeping with him, doesn’t it make you feel guilty, he doesn’t love you anyway, you’re just acting like a slut, you’re a whore, stop sleeping with men that aren’t yours,’ and it hits you all of a sudden, just like that, you’re breaking down, because even though, yes Eunha was bad, she had nothing on you, you were dirty, and for once Eunha was right. What were you doing? What were you doing sleeping with a man that was in love with someone else?

♔

‘Jimin, I think we need to talk,’ you blurt out.

‘Of course, we can talk, I always want to talk to you,’ Jimin giggles, God you’re going to miss that Goddamn giggle.

‘I can’t do it anymore,’ it’s all out in the open now, no turning back.

‘What? Do what?’

‘You, I can’t do you! I can’t do this, I can’t be with you knowing you’re in love with someone else because I feel guilty,’ and there it is, almost over and done with, all you need to do is seal the deal, split it apart. God, if only you knew.

‘Did she say something? Did Eunha say something to you? What did she say, did she- did she tell you?’ You can’t stand the broken sound of his voice, that was the voice of the man you were in love with, and also the voice of the man who isn’t in love with you.

‘It doesn’t matter, either way, I can’t continue sleeping with you,’ you’re doing the right thing, you’ve been selfish this whole time, just wanting a piece of him no matter how much it hurts you, but you never even thought of how much it could hurt others.

‘Why?’ because I’m in love with you.

‘It’s making me uncomfortable, and, I think I’ve found someone else,’ that seems to do the job, at least that’s what you think, minutes pass and you’re both just staring at each other, the tension practically visible.

‘Do I know him? Is it one of the boys? Is he- have you guys- has he fucked you? God, don’t tell me it’s Jungkook, I told him to lay off you when he told me he thought you were hot- but I mean if you’re happy, then I’m happy too…’ he’s rambling on and on, and all it does is make you realise that he does care, at least a little bit and it makes you feel all the more guiltier when you realise you’ve just lied to his face.

‘You don’t know him, Jimin, so no, he’s definitely not Jungkook, and whether we’ve fucked or not isn’t any of your concern.’

‘It is my concern,’ he claims.

‘No, your concern is Eunha, not me, it doesn’t matter either way, I’m not changing my-’

‘I guess she didn’t tell you then,’ tell you what? ‘So was he as good as me? Was he better or was he worse? Ha, of course he was worse, no one else could ever have you screaming like that all night, am I right?’ Yes, he’s right, but he doesn’t need to know that, because now is not the time to have sex and that’s exactly where this would lead to, you know it, you know him better than anyone.

‘It’s none of your business, Jimin,’ God, you want to cry, ‘and, I’m moving out,’ you don’t even have an apartment yet, guess that just means you’re going to have to start looking and hope you’ll get an apartment.

‘No, you’re not,’ he scoffs, were you serious right now? He’s hoping to change your mind about moving out.

And knowing you, he knows you don’t want to leave, after all, he knows you better than anyone else, right?

♔

Weeks pass, you’ve managed to find a comfy apartment about fifteen minutes away from Jimin’s, you didn’t want to move too far away because you still have to work with him, except it’s just not going to feel the same anymore. You haven’t moved out yet though, still packing everything that belongs to you, hanging all the shirts you’ve stolen from Jimin over the few years you were living together back in his closet, Jimin’s decided he doesn’t want to help you move out, and that’s fine, he doesn’t have to, but you could tell it still bothered him, often you’d come back from work, on days when he’d been off, to find all of your luggage and belongings back in their places, out of the boxes you’d squished them in, and you knew that couldn’t have happened on its own, you also knew that Jimin and Eunha hadn’t been hanging out anymore, things had changed drastically, Jimin would no longer cuddle you to sleep like he used to, you’re assuming it’s because you told him you found someone.

 You found yourself missing his touch, his warmth, the whole damn apartment felt cold because of the situation you were in and it hurt so much, you knew this would have had to happen at some point, you know it was going to hurt this bad but you always thought it would happen when you’d moved out, you didn’t want to move out, that was clear, it was tiring and it was so much better in Jimin’s apartment where he was around to make your whole day better, but you won’t have that anymore. You love him, you really do, you love him so much it completely breaks you, you used to think you didn’t want it any other way, you really just wanted to be able to love him no matter whether he loved you back or didn’t, but now you wish Eunha never existed, that she never stabbed you in the back, you wish she just left you alone, you wish she had never snatched your job from you from right under your feet and you wish you had never met Jimin in that Starbucks.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

♔

The next few days, you stick to yourself, quieter than usual, ignoring Jimin when he’s around, you stick to a routine of going to work and coming back from work to pack your stuff, which is becoming nearly impossible because you keep finding everything out of the boxes you had placed them in and in your cupboards and dressers, exactly where they would be if not in the boxes, and you know who’s doing it, it’s the same man you can’t bring yourself to face, because you’ve lied to him this whole time, you lied to him when you said you wanted no strings attached, you lied to him when he asked you whether him and Eunha bothered you, you lied to him when you told him you found someone else, and you basically implied that you slept with someone else too. Oh, but how could he ever think that you wanted anyone other than him? He was perfect, an angel, he basically wore a halo every single day.

Moreover, you don’t want to move out anymore, you just can’t, not with how you can feel his longing stares, not with how he’s putting everything back in its place each Goddamn time you manage to get everything back in their boxes, you just really want him to talk to you, to convince you to stay, because you would if he told you that himself, really you just wanted to know whether he loved you or not, loved you in the not-very-best-friend way, in the mainly-strings-attached way.

 The apartment feels colder as you return from work today, colder than it usually does, as if someone’s turned the heating down. You remember the days when the first thing you would do after you and Jimin got back from work is get changed and cuddle, because that was basically a tradition for the two of you, damn, you were starting to regret breaking things off with him, but it was the right thing to do, right? So you do your usual after-work routine, or well, the one that you now do since Jimin isn’t really a part of your equation anymore, oh, how you wish he still was.

You wrap yourself in blankets, God, it was cold, it’s never usually this cold, maybe the heating system’s fucked up, who knows, and something’s definitely up.

Your fucking blankets turn out to not be enough, and you can’t find the Goddamn plug in heaters anywhere that you’ve saved for emergencies like this, wow, doesn’t seem suspicious at all, and now you have to resort to your last chance at heat: Jimin.

Jimin’s body was like a heater in itself, it’s always warm, no matter what time of the day, where you are or what you’re doing his body is always there to warm you up, it’s one of the reasons you love cuddling with him so much, so you drag yourself out of your bed, all wrapped up like a burrito (you still wish the woman in front of you hadn’t taken the last burrito back in college) and drag yourself all the way to Jimin’s room right down the hallway, twisting the door knob and making your way in only to see all of the heaters in the apartment stacked up in boxes opposite his bed, and small, cheeky smile on Jimin’s face at the sight of you wrapped like a burrito.

‘Did you turn the heating off?’ You ask as he crosses his arms and giggles, that fucking giggle.

‘Yes,’ the smile on his face grows bigger.

‘Jimin, sir, can you please turn it on,’ you pout, this is the most normal you’ve felt with Jimin in a while.

‘No,’ he teases, causing you to pout even more, so you go wriggle your way into Jimin’s arms, it’s clear now this is what he wanted, you in his arms, ‘I’ve been waiting for you, you know? Please don’t move, I don’t care whether you have a boyfriend or if you love someone else or whatever, I love you, this isn’t exactly how I thought I’d end up telling you, but the last six months we were um… sleeping together, I realised that I was in love with you, and I think I’ve always been in love with you…yeah I’ve always been in love with you, I just didn’t see it.’

‘Jimin, there is no other guy, I just thought you were still pining after Eunha so I decided maybe I should stop what we had, it made me feel guilty and it was getting hard to keep up the act that I wasn’t in love with you,’ a smile makes its way onto your face, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

‘We’re such idiots,’ he laughs, ‘if it makes you feel any better, the night we… you know in the shower, I broke things off with Eunha completely, told her I had fun but I really just wanted to be with you, and then I think I spilt something ‘bout what we’ve been doing for the last few months- point is I’m sorry, I should have told you earlier and broke things off with her, especially when I found out that she was the reason you didn’t have a job back when we first met,’

‘You know? Who told you?’ You ask.

‘Eunha likes to talk a lot when she’s drunk, but that’s not the point, the point is…why didn’t you tell me?’ Jimin asks.

‘She meant so much to you, I knew you guys were close, I don’t know, I just, I wanted you to be happy even if that meant it wasn’t with me,’ you tell him.

‘Do you wanna like…you know…’ he grins sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

‘What? Have sex? Jimin? What do you- oh…you want me to be your-’

‘mhmm,’ he nods.

‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ he laughs, ‘so will you,___?’

‘Of course,’ you push your head into his chest, the warmth and familiarity comforting you.

‘And you won’t move out, right?’ He asks

‘Are you joking? Of course not, idiot.’ You giggle.

[chnsfairy]

name please ? | han jisung

words ; 3,441

genre ; fluff, a bit of crack

requested ; yes, who prompt 1;iv ( @skzrequests )

warnings ; barista!reader, guitarist!jisung, like two curse words

a/n ; ok so i bent the prompt juST a lil bit but it has the same general idea and i think it turned out ok so i hope you enjoy it lovely !

m.list in bio

~

“you know y/n, one day you’re gonna have to learn how to make latte art properly,, (￣ ￣|||)” woojin complains before once again guiding your hand over the small mug which at this point is just a huge mess

“and on your own”

(￣ε￣＠) (￣ε￣＠) meanie

“you’ve been what ? working here for half a year and you still dont know how-” woojin tried to continue, but unfortunately for him, his attempt to teach you how to correctly use steamed milk has come to a crashing halt as a loud bang followed by groans was heard by the front door

you turned on your heel and headed towards the front of the counter,, trying to figure out what exactly caused the ruckus in the usually peaceful coffee shop

excluding your’s and woojin’s bickering in the back

“uhhhh excuse me ???” you ask,, carefully peering over to the giant mess that was now on the floor

“you ok sir ?” (・人・)

sprawl across the floor, carrying a guitar case, it seemed as if the stranger misinterpreted both the speed he was entering the door at and the size of the case,, cause it seemed he got caught at the door ahfjksadhfkjsa poor kid (｡╯︵╰｡)

he came dressed in some simple ripped light jeans, white t-shirt, and light jacket, plus his fluffy brown hair messily laying atop his head as if he just got out of bed

i mean who knows maybe he did

yes he did

“aH ! im um,, so sorry im late....”

after finally collecting himself the stranger stood up and picked up his guitar case,, pink tinting his face from embarrassment and like...you know... he kinda cute (*/ω＼)

no tea no shade

especially when he started messing with his already messy hair yeah there was no use trying to fix that mess but uWU LOOK AT HIS CHEEKS AND SPARKLY BROWN EYES AHHH !!!! (/▽＼*)｡o○♡

woah woah there cool in y/n he just walked in

it’s not your fault he just happens to be absolutely adorable

but maybe it would be best to stop staring at him,,,, 

when the boy started walking towards the counter you found yourself quickly shuffling behind woojin, who was now confused, as you pushed him up front to handle with the newcomer,,  

CAUsE SORRY BUT THERE WAS NO WAY YOU WERE GOING TO BE GETTING THROUGH A FULL CONVERSATION WITHOUT MAKING A FOOL OF YOURSELF SO WHY DONT WE STOP THAT POSSIBILITY NOW

“hi so i was hired a couple days ago to play a few nights a week ?? this is the right place yeah ? im sure i got the address right....if n-”

woojin interrupted his ramblings before he could continue any further,, bless him

“ oh !! so thats who the boss was talking about !! yeah let me just head back to make eveything’s in order, um y/n can you get him a drink or something ?”

walking away from you he left you completely exposed,, giving the other boy across from you an awkward laugh you grabbed woojin’s shirt quickly to stop him from leaving

“woojin you didnt tell me we were getting a new guitarist !!” you whispered harshly

“ᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜᵘᵗᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ”

“well sorry i didnt think it was important ¯\_(ツ)_/¯”

“does our friendship mean nothing to you”

woojin laughs quietly as he walks through the the door leaving you alone with the cafe’s new guitarist who just so happens to be looking like a whole ass model

“so um,, ” you started nervously,, mAN who thought this one person you make you so fLUSTERED JHASKKSAFKL

“want anything to drink ?”

after staring at menu up on the wall for a couple seconds the guitarist gave you a small smile JHFJKAGJISFIJEHUIGH before nodding his head

“sure can i have an iced latte ?”

out of habit you immediately asked “name please ?”

“oh you know... just your friendly neighborhood squirrel”

(・・ ) ? (・・ ) ? (・・ ) ?

you eyed the boy who was now leaning up against the counter smiling to himself

“i- oh come on wh-”

“thats the name,, you better write it down”

sighing to yourself you carefully wrote it down,, not necessarily sure if you even need to but who cares

as the musician pulled out his wallet to pay you put up your hand to stop him

cause no way you were letting this cute boy pay for his drink

plus he’s an employee as well

“it’s on the house”

“no please let me pay for it ( `ε´ )”

“nope”

so without anyone else there to help, you stepped away from the register and started prepare this strange guitarist’s drink

quietly laughing to yourself as you do so

moments later woojin walks back through the door and out from behind the counter and motions for mystery boy to follow him towards the small stage the cafe had

it was small and shoved into a corner, all wooden as most of the cafe was and it was covered with many different plants and decorated with fairy lights

vv aesthetic if you do say so yourself

then in the center of it was a stool and microphone for performer to set up with and use when they were performing

a couple months ago you had a band play here on friday’s so you had some other equipment in the back but it seemed unnecessary for a simple acoustic guitar 

you watched as the boy looked at the fairy lights and the actually quiet beautiful set up in awe

the musician started to unpack his guitar case as you finished off his drink and started walking towards the stage where woojin was showing him where everything was

“you know now that i really think about it ‘squirrel’ kinda suits you”

the sparkly eyed boy laughed as you handed him his drink,, unknowing of what you should say you ended up standing there awkwardly for a few seconds before  realizing there was another customer back at the register

“ah- i should,, probably go” you said jabbing your thumb towards the counter before awkwardly heading back

what was tHAT AHHH !! STOP BEING SO WEIRD Y/N OK

ITS REALLY NOT YOUR FAULT HIS HAIR JUST LOOKS PERFECT AND HIS EYES ARE BRIGHT AND HIS SMILES CUTE AND OK TIME TO STOP NOPE NOPE NOPE

you dont even know his name....(｡•́︿•̀｡) (｡•́︿•̀｡) (｡•́︿•̀｡)

lil thot wont give it to you

but thats ok

if he wants to play it like this then thats fINE

you can deal with that

hopefully....

by the time you had finished helping out the other customer you started to hear the sweet sound of an acoustic guitar being played throughout the coffee shop

“you know he’s not half bad,,,”

woojin had returned from helping the musician get settled and soon found his regular spot on a stool in the corner

“yeah,, he’s pretty good isn’t he”

and then a few minutes later you found yourself completely absorbed in the brunette’s angelic voice filling the shop, his guitar only making it even more beautiful

your staring was soon interrupted by woojin pushing you off to the side so he could help a lady who had walked in about a minute ago,, which you hadn’t realized (＞﹏＜) oops

“y/n would you like to go take your break ?”

(´♡‿♡`)  (´♡‿♡`)  (´♡‿♡`)

!!!!!

“ can i ???”

woojin motioned you to go once again,, and as you were already so distracted it wouldn’t have made much of a difference

you found yourself sitting at an empty table in the corner,, you’ve heard some other guitarists perform many times in your life but this one takes the cake

you’re not too sure what it is about him but,,, he just looked and sounded so sincere with every word he sang ??? the guitar and him looked like they were a single creature,, knowing exactly how to work as one

it was just really beautiful

he was playing a cover of a song you’ve heard a few times before called ‘better days’ by jaie,, he also seemed to have ended up adding some extra elements to fit his voice better and overall it made an incredible impact

almost everyone else in the cafe had their eyes on the musician singing up front who looked so immersed in his music there would’ve been no time for stage fright

“i’ve had my better days, and you’ve had your better days too” he sang quietly

soon after the song had ended there was a light applause from the customers in the coffee shop,, including you who soon.... realized that you need a paycheck....

yeah ok the cute boy is gonna have to wait we gotta get that bread kids

(╥_╥) (╥_╥)

after making the short walk back to your position behind the counter where woojin found his spot once again on his stool until he had to go make up some drinks you started to hear an acoustic version of million dollar man by lana del rey flow through the cafe

it was simple and elegant and you felt kinda sad you couldnt sit and watch :(((((

there was only a couple hours left before you had to close up so you guess it wasnt that bad,, at least you got to listen to some pretty music during the normally slow and quiet closing shift

honestly at this rate you might fall asleep if the guitarist kept the atmosphere this peaceful,, i mean you weren’t complaining bUT THAT PROBABLY WOULDN’T LOOK GOOD TO THE BOSS

so instead you ended up reading for the most of the time until all the customers had all left and woojin had begun wiping down tables and sweeping floors as mystery boy packed up his guitar and papers

then after you finished cleaning up the counter and throwing all the trash out back you collected your own belongings and changed back into your own plain jeans and sweatshirt before clocking out for the day

as you headed back towards the front you saw woojin talking to the unnamed guitarist and waved at the pair before finally walking out the door and into the early spring air

“bye jinnie !! i’ll see you tomorrow !”

nodding his head woojin continued to chat with the brunette as you started heading down the block and towards your apartment

man,,, why did he have to be so cute ??! >:((((

its not fAIR HE DIDNT EVEN TELL YOU HIS NAME HES MEANNN

(ノ_<、) you’ll have to get it from him tomorrow

aAAH even if it’s the last thing you have to do

ok so maybe you went to sleep thinking about the sparkly eyed boy who played beautiful guitar and had an aMAZING voice but like ajdhjsahd who wouldn’t

the next day was mainly the same,,, you had your regulars and a few newcomers who just so happened to be in the neighborhood and stopped in for a drink

and of course the guitarist walked back into the shop a little after 4,, this time slightly more put together 

his hair was styled a bit and looked even better but how the fuck is that possible,, today he was also wearing a leather jacket over a yellow hoodie and black jeans

although you hadn’t realized he’d come in yet ahjksfhasdjk

but when you finally looked up you were pleasantly surprised

but jeSUS HI YOU’VE SEEN WHAT AN ANGEL LOOKS LIKE BYE YOU CAN GO TO HELL NOW YEET 

“what are you a ninja ? ”

“yes y/n,, i am in fact a ninja ”

“hEY WHY DO YOU KNOW MY NAME >:CCCCCC”

its nOT FAIR hE JUST- HNGGG

“it’s on your name tag”

“oh yeah”

you slightly pouted at the boy in front of you who had become slightly amused by your reaction,, you were cute uwu

“and what would you like today ?” you proceeded as you tried to keep the conversation going

“hmm how about a cappuccino”

he responded after a couple of seconds

“nO i cANT DO THE FANCY ART THINGYYY (╥﹏╥)”

you sighed once again before talking out a paper cup sharpie in hand

“and name ?”

"you said it yourself,,, im a ninja”

you laughed again before rolling your eyes as you scribbled down ‘ninja’ on the cup

“you’re funny you know that ?”

the male shrugged his shoulders and picked up his guitar case once again

“actually no beCAUSE MY JOKES ARE NEVER APPRECIATED” 

he then laughs hysterically before heading back towards the lit stage,, leaving you puzzled

“heY uM woojin ????” you needed to find that man to help do the steamed milk,,, or maybe the whole drink all together

luckily he just came back from his break when you shoved the paper cup into his hands

“ninja ?”

“dont ask. pretty art. make. plEASE ? (ಥ﹏ಥ)” you had started tugging on your friends sleeve because you just really didnt want to give a cute boy a cappuccino without pretty art on it :(((

“fine fine fine,, but this is the LAST time,,, im teaching you this weekend i swear...”

“woojin i loveeeee youuuu” (´ ε ` )♡

“(￢_￢) i know”

minutes later after the musician had gotten set up and with his pretty decorated cappuccino the sweet sound of his voice and guitar filled the air,, having all other customers in the room turn their heads to find exactly where it was coming from

especially as he started doing a cover of instagram by dean,, which was yA KNOW AMAZING

he continued to play for a couple hours until you had to close up,, although every so often he ended up glancing your way,, to find that you were also watching he quickly turned away as he felt his face heat up (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) 

lucky you,, he didnt see you freak out at the exact same time

and thats basically how it went every day for a while

the still unnamed guitarist would walk in some time after 4, ordered a drink and then played for a couple hours before it was time to close up

nothing out of the ordinary

i mean maybe nOT GIVING HIS NAME 

CAUSE GODDAMNIT YOU’RE GETTING ANNOYED BY ALWAYS WRITING SOME RANDOM NAME ON HIS CUP

HE CUTE OK YOU WANNA KNOW HIS NAME AHHHH

oh why dont you ask, you question ????

YOU’VE TRIED

“ok real name this time”

“y/n i’ve already told you”

ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ NO

“well tell me again”

“yeah i decided that it changed today”

sighing you completely gave up on this argument and motioned back to the sharpie in your hand 

“kermit the frog.” he said before crossing his arms in a fake pout

“fuck you i love kermit the frog”

“oh i didn’t know you loved me”

((╬◣﹏◢)) aAHHHH NDHFJKJK WHY CANT HE JUST LEAVE YOUR HEART ALONE ALREADY HUH

“nO I- HNGG T^T ....φ(・∀・*)”

you once again angrily scribbled down this boys fake name,, damn you just wanted to knoW AHHH !!! (╥﹏╥)

those were days where five minute arguments were involved with the name picking yet there were others that lasted only 30 seconds

“ __〆(￣ー￣ ) and name please ?”

“ironman”

“yeah no im just leaving this here today”

so after a couple weeks it was just a thing between the two of you

it was your bit per-say

ok maybe you have a tiny crush on the guy but like ???? who wouldn’t ???? he’s just AHhfhasjkf 

words cant properly explain it

the two of you clicked almost immediately and you dont feel as if it would be completely wrong to call him a friend

except most friends know each other’s name...so there’s that bit to work out

iF HE WOULD JUST GIVE IT TO YOU

so after a month of random names on paper cups you had a mission today to get this cute boy’s name on his drink today >:(

“ok please please please please please please your name????” 

he gave you another one of his bright smiles before simply saying “han”

(￣_￣)・・・ “han what?”

“just han”

(¯ . ¯٥) the lil liar

you know it’s a last name you’re nOT STUPID

“it’s my stage name”

“＼＼٩(๑`^´๑)۶／／ WELL THAT DOESN’T COUNT”

“TOO BAD Y/N”

you pouted once again at your failed attempt to get his real name,,, the meanie,,, why does he tease you like this >:ccc

but you gotta get paid so you grumpily write down his stage name on the cup as he walked over to the stage

“get his name yet ?” woojin comes up from behind you as you hand him the cup

“no :((( bUT why cant you tell me ????”

“i’ve been sworn to secrecy”

“wHY IS KEEPING A NAME A SECRET” you argue as you watch woojin prepare the drink

“because he finds you cute when you get flustered like this”

“bECAUSE IT’S JUST A NAME LIKE- wait what (・・ ) ”

“oops that was another secret soRRy”

you turned back around and grabbed your friends shoulders and shook him probably a bit too violently

“WOOJIN YOU DONT KEEP THINGS LIKE THIS FROM YOUR BEST FRIEND OK WE HAVE A PACT”

“what pact ?????”

“it was an unspoken pact.”

“thEN HOW AM I- you know what never mind i shouldn’t question your insanity” he waved you off so he could finish making ‘han’s drink leaving you both flustered and confused behind the counter as his guitar soon started filling the empty sounding coffee shop

about two hours later there only remained a few other people left so you decided to take your break for the evening as by now there probably wouldnt be much to do

soon a new song had started playing throughout the cafe and your head turned to see the guitarist giving you a shy smile

it was one you had never heard before so the gentle acoustic guitar and han’s comforting voice drew you back towards one of the shop’s tables where you then sat until all other customers ended up leaving

as the two of you were completely unaware of woojin cleaning up the shop, han continued playing and you continued listening to the mystery song before woojin shouted from the back room, forcing you to break eye contact and awkwardly smile at the guitarist

“y/n im clocking you out ok ?!” 

“ ok !!” you shouted back before once again turning towards han who was now packing up his case

“what was that last song?”

he muscician scratched the back of his neck before laughing sightly

“uhh it was an original although i haven’t actually titled it yet,, i just wanted to test it out”

“oh wow !! well it was really good, you have my approval ☆⌒(≧▽° )”

“woah really ? thank you that mean a lot...”

(・人・) (・人・) (・人・)

ok woojin it would be great if you could just walk in here and break the awkward silence by now hnNG

“jisung”

∑(O_O;)

“sorry what ??”

“han jisung,,, thats my name”

(O.O)(O.O)

“i think you deserve it by now”

Σ(°ロ°) Σ(°ロ°) Σ(°ロ°)

“aWE A CUTE NAME FOR A CUTE BOY LOOK-”

oh shit (o_O)

well you certainly did not mean to say that out loud

“oops sorry heheheheh”

jisung was GONE

this barista who he had been secretly pining over for a month just called him cute all his insides are just HJSADHKJAKDSA

help the poor boy

his stomach is doing flips as we speak

i mean he couldn’t just leave it as is 

cOME ON WHERE’S YOUR CONFIDENCE  ヾ(。＞＜)シ

“so um,, does that mean i can take you out to coffee sometime ?”

(;;;*_*) (;;;*_*)

“although unless you dont want to-”

“yes.”

“i get that like you kinda just learned my name”

“yes.”

“not too sure why that was kept a secret so long but- what?”

“jisung 1. ahhh cute name, 2. yes, i’d love to (／。＼)”

jisung gave you another one of his adorable bright smiles that felt as if it could light up a whole room,, which is did as always,, although this time he looked almost even happier

and for once you went to sleep without racking your brain for ideas as to what his name could be

-

bonus ;

“although if you give them something other than your name i will leave”

“y/n” 

“like did me saying ‘name please ?’ cause you to freak out or something ?? honestly i’m very curious”

“wELL when it just so happens to be someone looking very cute...yes i did,,,,”

“aWWEEE JISUNG” 

[crystalninjaphoenix]

A New Visage

An idea for the Branded AU that I’ve had for a while. This was a bit difficult for me to write, but I think it came out alright. Anyway, this is for all the people who are wondering what happens to someone once they get masked. And also, how do the masked even work? How do they operate? All those questions and more will be answered soon.

Branded is created by Jay, @blade-of-memeora! Check out more on their profile!

The room probably hadn’t been meant for people to stay in. It was rather small, and it didn’t have any windows. One of the walls had clearly been added in somehow, made of plywood instead of plaster. But regardless of its original purpose, someone had dragged a cot with bedding into the room, and that was where he was sitting now, cross-legged with his hands in his lap.

He wasn’t sure how long he was supposed to stay here. He must’ve been here for at least a couple hours, and there wasn’t any sign of anything changing. There was a strong temptation to get up and just leave through the closed wooden door, but he wasn’t supposed to. That was the overwhelming thought in his mind, that he should stay and wait. Whenever he thought about leaving, the notion was soothed away, and he kept waiting.

When the door opened, he immediately tensed, eyes flying toward it. Two people walked in. One had shoulder-length rose-red hair, and the other had undercut bronze-orange hair. They were both wearing masks, with orange’s being shaped like butterfly wings and red’s being a simpler one that covered the upper half of their face. He stared at them. The two of them stared back. And then the orange one scowled and muttered, “Why do we always get the cats?”

“We don’t have that many,” said the red one.

“The Seamstress just sent us another pair,” the orange one countered. “Guess what? More cats. They’re not house cats, but my point stands. I think we have enough cats to form a pride.”

“Does it really matter?” The red one stepped further into the room. They smiled at him. “Don’t mind Monarch, she’s a bit fussy over details. You’re the new one, then? We’ve been assigned to fill you in. Call me Lightshow.”

He stared at them for a moment more, then slowly stood up. “Hello. It’s...it’s nice to meet you.” Instinctively, he opened his mouth to introduce himself, but nothing came out. Come to think of it...his mind was fairly blank in that department as well…

“You look confused,” Lightshow said. “Don’t worry, we all were at first. It’ll make sense the longer you’re here. Come on, we’ll show you around.”

The three of them came out of the room into a long hallway lined with doors. Some of the doors looked like they belonged, others looked more out of place, sitting in sawn-out door frames. The beige wallpaper was faded and peeling, the red carpet was dirty, and the lights overhead flickered. It looked like the hallway was part of what had once been a nice house, but had been run-down and abandoned for a while. The room they’d just come out of was sitting near the end of the hallway, which extended before them for a long time before it turned. The hall was empty except for two more people in masks, one yellow-haired, one cyan-haired, who were talking to each other.

“Where is this place?” he asked, the words coming out hushed.

“Just some abandoned building on the edge of this town,” Monarch replied, shrugging. “We’ve repurposed it. Unfortunately, there are quite a few of us in this area, so the ones living here had to...remodel it a bit. Hope you get used to it, you’ll be living here unless you’re wanted somewhere else.”

“Really?” He looked around, reconsidering his surroundings. Not exactly what he was used to, but he supposed there were worse places to live, especially if it had to be an abandoned building. “How will I know if I’m wanted somewhere else?”

“You’ll know, kitten,” Lightshow said simply. They started walking, Monarch by their side. One he realized they were walking, he hurried to catch up, but stopped short of walking even with them. He wasn’t supposed to do that. “There are three floors to this building, and this is the second one. Here, we have everyone’s personal spaces.”

“Like bedrooms?” he asked.

“Not exactly.” Lightshow glanced at him. “Bedrooms are for sleeping. You’ll find you don’t really need to do that anymore, but you can if you want. The personal spaces are just that: spaces for privacy. People function better if they have something of their own.”

They passed the two masked who’d been standing in the hallway. He stared at them as they walked by. The yellow-haired one flashed a wicked grin, while the cyan one’s smile and head tilt was a bit softer. “How many people are in here?” he asked, speeding up a bit, barely stopping himself from being even with the other two.

Monarch hummed. “I dunno, I think you make it nineteen?”

“Twenty,” Lightshow corrected. “You always forget about them.”

“Oh yeah. But maybe they don’t count.” Monarch glanced behind them, back at the two others they passed. “A word of advise, by the way? Keep your personal items close while around that yellow one back there. They like to snatch things. Even managed to get away with the doc’s coat once.”

“Whose coat?”

“The doc.” They turned the corner, and Monarch pointed down this new hall towards a door at the very end. “You might meet him soon. He’s one of the ones who travel a lot, in contrary to those of us who stay in one area. Not around now, but he stays there when he is. You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

He bristled. “Well, when I’m in a new place I try to find out as much as I can about it. Sorry if that’s rude or something.”

Lightshow laughed. “Kitten’s got a tongue. That’s cute. You might want to keep that to yourself around here. It could get you in trouble, and not everyone’s willing to overlook a slight.”

His immediate reaction was to snap back in retaliation for the cute remark, but that faded away the more he thought about it. It was something he shouldn’t do. That made sense. So instead of saying anything, he just nodded and rubbed his wrists, which suddenly felt odd.

They came to a pair of staircases, one leading up, and one leading down. “I say up,” Monarch said. “I don’t feel like walking up two pairs of steps when I have the option of only walking up one.”

“No, we have to save that part for last.” Lightshow was already heading downward, not even bothering to look back at her. “Just in case something happens.”

“...ah. Right. You know I really think if that was gonna happen, it would’ve by now, but yeah, good point. Come on, whiskers.”

He started after them. “What could happen?”

“Oh, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Lightshow called. “Hurry up, you two.”

The first floor of the house was in a similar state as the second one. It must’ve once been nice, but it was now worn down. The carpets were stained, and when there wasn’t carpet the wooden floor underneath creaked. But the place was still livable. He figured that the people who lived here must keep it fixed up and maintained. Maybe there was a chore wheel. The thought almost made him laugh, but it didn’t get beyond a small grin before it was quieted.

The rooms on the first floor had various purposes. One was announced as the storage room, full of boxes that he wasn’t allowed to look inside of, though he did manage to see a pair of masks sitting on a shelf by the door. One was full of maps, showing various places all around the country, and even the world, all marked up. Again, he wasn’t allowed to look too closely at the contents. There were a couple doors that they walked right past, also based on the principle that he wasn’t allowed inside there. And, somehow, he was okay with that. He wasn’t high up enough yet. He shouldn’t even want to go inside until it was time.

There were only really two places he could stay in for long. The first of which was a sort of common area, apparently the one place people could socialize in this house. There was a fireplace in this large room, as well as a few chairs, sofas, and low tables. It was mostly empty, though there were a couple people in masks chattering in the corner, one blue and one purple. He couldn’t catch much of the conversation, but the one with steel-blue hair seemed to be pretty exasperated.  “You can check this place out once you’re ready,” Monarch said. “It’ll be great for you to get to know the rest of us.”

The other room, Lightshow introduced as the mission room, a medium sized room with a map of the city on one wall and a desk with a computer leaning against the other. There were also coat hangers lining the walls, with various articles of clothing, “In case you need to be subtle,” Lightshow explained.

“Um…what exactly are the missions?” He ventured to ask.

Lightshow looked shocked. “Oh, I thought you’d have figured that out by now! After all, it was a mission that brought you here.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Don’t you remember? They actually sent six out for you, anticipated trouble. Honestly a bit overkill, in my opinion, could’ve gotten away with maybe half that. We really should get someone who can organize things better around here. But I’m not in charge of making the teams, or of deciding who’s next.” Lightshow smiled at him. “You were chosen, kitten. The master thought you’d be useful for the cause. It’s a great honor, but not many people see it that way, so when we go out to recruit them, they don’t exactly appreciate it. They always come around though. Like you did.”

He remembered it now. Every moment, from seeing those people in his house to having the mask put on his face. He remembered being scared. But...why had he been? Nothing bad has happened to him in the whole time he’s been here. And it was an honor to be chosen...it was amazing to be found useful. He had nothing to be scared of. If anything, he should be grateful. He nodded slowly. “That makes sense...so we always go out to recruit more?”

“Oh, not always,” Lightshow continued. “Sometimes we need to get more supplies. And sometimes we have to get rid of the enemies to the cause.”

Of course. “And...that’s how we help the cause? Which is...to get more people?”

“The cause is to help the master, kitten,” Lightshow said, smiling. “And getting more people does just that.”

He nodded again. “I think I get it…”

“Good. This was the last room on the floor. It’s time to go up to the attic.”

Monarch smiled. “This is the best part.”

The top floor looked unfinished, with wooden floors and rafters spanning the ceiling of the one large room. Pillars supported the roof and there were what looked like random crates scattered about. There were also punching bags dangling from the ceiling and simple mannequins lining the edges of the room. The room was empty except for a single white-haired mask sitting against one of the pillars, who quickly stood up and left the moment the three of them entered, mumbling something about “good luck.”

“Alright. First things first.” Monarch grabbed his arm and pulled him to the center of the room while Lightshow meandered over to one of the crates and sat down. “We have to figure out what you can do.”

He was still rather confused, but he just stared at her. Answers would come soon.

“Everyone has magic, you know,” Monarch continued. “But it’s a tiny amount, unable to do much of anything. Until we’re given these.” She tapped her mask. “They amplify our abilities, and connect us to the master and each other. Fascinating, right?”

He nodded. It did seem kind of cool to have actual magic.

“There are a couple different types: allure, illusion, healing, teleportation, creation, elemental, and…” Monarch grimaced. “...chaos. You can only have one, and we need to find out which one you have.”

“Okay…” he said. “How do we do that?”

Monarch grinned. Her orange hair was suddenly glowing, and her eyes lit up with the same color. He barely registered this fact before something hard hit him in the gut, knocking the breath out of him and throwing him hard to the floor. He was winded for a second before managing to push into a sitting position. Monarch was still grinning at him, but not there were wisps of what looked like orange smoke whirling around her. “Well, you see,” she said, “We’ve found that magic tends to kick in when you’re in danger. So the easiest way would be to—”

Some of the smoke broke into small shapes, darting toward him. He yelped, throwing his arms over his head to protect it. The smoke darts hit his skin and poofed away, but they left behind a stinging pain. He glanced up just in time to see more coming. “N—stop!” He scrambled backwards, not nearly fast enough to avoid the next round. He could practically feel the bruises forming.

“Make me stop!” Monarch yelled. The smoke grouped together into larger segments and shot toward him.

He scrambled to his feet and started running, but he wasn’t faster than the smoke. The new, bigger wisps hit with an oof-inducing impact. Make her stop. Once the notion took hold, it wouldn’t go away. Of course, he had to make her stop. But how? The smoke still followed him; even when he tried to hide behind a pillar it managed to flow right around and hit him again. He ducked around the pillar, saw more smoke zooming toward his eyes, and ducked behind it again. The smoke still stung his eyes and he teared up. He squeezed his eyes shut. Somehow it had to stop. Monarch was controlling this, if he could somehow get her away, get her out of here—

Something clicked inside him. He gasped, and opened his eyes. They were now glowing green to match his hair. He circled around the pillar, eyes locking on to Monarch on the other side of the room. Make it stop. There was a splash of green light, a “Hey wha—”, and when the light faded away Monarch was gone.

He stared at the spot where she had been just seconds before. Then, there was the sound of clapping. Lightshow stood up. “Very nice,” they said, walking toward him. “See, that’s the teleportation we mentioned earlier. Good, I was hoping it would be something like that. Most people in this location are elementals or creators, have enough of those around.”

“Where’d she go?” he asked, still staring at the spot of blank floor.

Lightshow waved away the question. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you teleported someone else! Usually teleporters can only move themselves around, and need practice to move others. But you were able to do that right away!”

He felt a flicker of pride at that. “Now what?”

“Well, obviously, you still need practice. You just sent someone away without a destination in mind, usually not something you want to happen. But don’t worry, if this was any indication, you’ll improve quickly.” They smiled. “Very good. I was worried you’d be one of the chaotic ones. Those cause some trouble. This last one we picked up basically destroyed their first location, and before that we had one who vanished on a mission. But you? You’ll be very useful to the master.”

That was good. That was all he wanted.

“Now.” Lightshow grabbed his wrist and started pulling him toward the stairs again. “We’re done for today. You can go back to your personal space and wait until we’re ready for practice.”

“Okay.”

And so he ended up back in that same room he’d started the day in. He could go out and explore the building again. He could try and practice more with his new magic. He could do any number of things.

But he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe there’d be time for that another day, when there was nothing to do. Now? There was something to do, and that was to wait. So he sat down, folded his legs, and waited to be called on again.

[junionigiri]

and you say, stay Chapter 5 - Fly Me To The Moon

[former title: just another secretary story!]

Summary: Director Todoroki takes Secretary Uraraka out after work.

Rating: T

The Office of the Executive Director begins the next day in abject and utter suffering. Struggling through their hangovers, they each draft out their gravely-worded apology letters while passing out a bottle of aspirin between them.

“Oh my god, I can’t even remember how we got home, Kiri!” Mina whines, slapping a cold compress over her forehead. “I woke up on the bedroom floor feeling like I got punched in the face! Where were you? You should have carried me to bed!”

“I was home too,” Kirishima groans through a hefty chug of his protein shake. “I passed out on the stairs, remember? I felt so bad I couldn’t do a single dragon flag this morning! Not manly!”

“I, too, awakened in a most uncomfortable position! My head was at the foot of my bed, my feet were on my pillows, and my pyjamas were inside-out!” Iida adds in utter humiliation. “How did we arrive home safely? Did the Director teleport us home, somehow?”

“No, he drove all of us home,” Ochako answers, gathering all their letters for them. “So you should all thank him when you can, okay?

“Really? The Director was there last night?” Monoma grumbles irately. “Figures. All I remember is the vague stench of evil and existential dread. I bet I drank so much so I can ignore his demonic aura.”

Camie snorts. “Cuz, you sat right in the bossman’s lap. You got no rights anymore.”

“What?!”

Monoma demands to see evidence, and Camie happily complies to everyone’s horror. Her many blurry selfies of the night before painted an awful, embarrassing picture. Only the owner of the phone finds this amusing. Her promises not to upload anything can only do so much to stave off the shame.

“Utsushimi-kun! I implore you to get rid of this evidence!” Iida begs.

Camie hums. “Change my mind. You can start with an orange frappuccino~”

As another argument goes forth, Ochako leaves them with an amused smile and makes her way to Director Todoroki’s office.

With a gentle knock, she enters the room and finds him seated behind his computer. Unlike her officemates, there is no evidence of a headache or exhaustion in him. It would have been infuriating if she had the same terrible hangover as the rest of them, but luckily she watched her intake last night and her head’s clear.

Not-so-luckily though, she clearly remembers laughing at the Director and everyone else. And she can’t pretend to forget if he asks her about it, because just thinking about everyone cuddling the Director makes her want to burst out laughing again.

Because of that, she places the apology letters over to his desk with her own letter on the top of the pile. “Here is all that you asked us to accomplish, Director,” she says as politely as she can.

Todoroki hums in disinterest, eyes not moving from a set of data on his computer. It’s obvious that he’s going to ask her to shred these documents later without so much as reading them. It’s some small relief for them at least, because then they can pretend none of this happened. “Asui from Marketing requested an emergency meeting with us about the art center project. You have all the proposals for the launch ready, right?”

“Of course, Director. We just need the Chairman’s approval. I’ve already sent an email to their office about it.”

He clicks his tongue and tugs on his tie in thought. “Send another reminder to Takami-san. I need an answer before lunch.”

“Yes, Director,” Ochako says, eyeing his fingers on the tie. While at first she hated that she had to fix his tie for him so often, it’s now a point of pride for her to keep the Director looking neat at all times. So much so that it annoys her to see it so crooked.

It’s pure muscle memory at this point that she’s stepping over to his side and her hands are flying to his tie, pulling at it expertly until it’s tidy. She took all the trouble convincing him that morning that he can wear this diamond-patterned tie instead of the solid dark blue ones that he preferred. She has to make sure that he looks perfect.

“You’re perfect.” Satisfied with the results, she looks up at him and directly meets his eyes.

The demon Director’s stare is famous for a lot of reasons--the color, the intensity, the way they make you feel like you’re both burning alive and freezing at the same time. It’s not a metaphor Ochako likes because being burned must feel terrible (his scar tells a story all on its own), and also she’s used to being the target of that stare when he’s irritated or dissatisfied, so she knows it in a way that cannot be enjoyed.

But now he’s staring at her the way he was last night at her doorstep. The burning feeling behind it is less like fire and more like the warmth of her blood rushing through her veins and the throb of her pulse. It’s intense, unwavering. Ochako’s hypnotized for exactly half a second too long.

“Thanks,” he says absentmindedly. “I could have done that myself.”

She snaps herself out of the trance. “With all due respect Director, you didn’t. But, noted.”

All the strange thoughts fly out of the window of the 65th floor office. It’s good that she’s reminded of how infuriating he is. His vague warning about how he shouldn’t underestimate her might be making her see him in a different (inaccurate) light, but she should know better. She bows and turns with a suppressed huff when he calls to her again, “Secretary Uraraka.”

She turns to him. After a thoughtful pause, he asks, “You speak with your colleagues differently, don’t you?”

She blinks. “Not that I know of, Director. Has anyone sent a complaint about the way I speak? I should apologize and clear up any misunderstandings--”

“No, not them.” He gestures out the door. “Iida and the others. Last night you spoke with them informally. Using ‘ sure thing’ or ‘ yup’ instead of ‘ of course,’ for example.”

“I… see.” Gosh, he sounds so weird just trying to talk in a casual way. “It’s only when we’re drinking. But if it offends you...”

He shakes his head. “It’s… fine. In fact, you may use that sort of language with me. Provided that it’s just the two of us, of course.”

Ochako stares at him incredulously. “Beg yer pardon?” she mutters by accident.

“Yes, like that.” Todoroki gives her a reassuring nod. “That’s what they call the Kansai accent, right?”

She tries not to slip into her accent again when she asks, “May I know what brought this on, Director?”

“Are you offended?”

“No, but… this is a strange request.”

He shrugs. “You seemed more comfortable speaking that way instead of the usual way you converse with me. Since I am giving the same freedom to Utsushimi, I am granting you the same thing.”

Well, Camie hasn’t talked to him directly since the interview and since she got drunk in front of him so she can’t say that it’s exactly the same freedom. Plus Ochako isn’t sure that the Director is just telling her that she can talk more naturally around him, or if he’s commanding her to do so. Frankly it’s making her sweat figuring out what he wants.

“If you say so, Director. Of course I’ll--”

“Not of course, ” Todoroki insists. “ Sure thing .”

Ochako gives him a strained smile. “S-sure thing, sir. I’ll keep it casual in front of you.”

Director Todoroki nods in satisfaction and gets back to work. Ochako walks out of the office and tries to do the same thing, but it’s suddenly hard to concentrate.

*

A few days later Ochako comes home tired as all hell and not in the best mood, as she does when the Demon Director is extra demonic. Honestly, for all his talk about wanting her to be more comfortable around him, he’s making it impossible for her to even breathe normally within his vicinity.

The art center project is now top priority to beat their competitors, so suddenly the office is rushing through all the things they were scheduled to do for the next two months, over the course of three weeks. The stocks of energy drinks and orange juice in the pantry is running dangerously low from their efforts to keep awake. It’s so bad that Monoma was even caught drinking ‘peasant’ instant coffee instead of his usual French press ones.

And Camie… oof. Ochako knows that she’s trying her best and that this is a lot of pressure for someone who’s new to the team, but she missed one of the financial reports completely during the staff meeting. And while both of them apologized for her mistake, Todoroki only directed his ice-cold glare at Ochako.

“Is this how you do transfer of duties, Secretary Uraraka?” She flinches just remembering the cutting edge of his voice. She hates it when he uses that because even though his standards are impossibly high, it tells her that he expected more from her, and she let him down.

Well at least she’s home an hour earlier than usual. Director Todoroki told her not to collect Victoria at his home as previously ordered. There’s just enough time for her to eat the convenience store katsudon she got on the way home, take a bath, and watch her soaps before angrily passing out on her couch.

… if only her phone would stop ringing! It takes all of her strength not to throw her food over her kitchen table when she fishes for her phone. The name on the screen gives her pause, however, and she’s extra careful to mind her tone when she answers, “Chief Midoriya?”

Midoriya Izuku opens up their conversation with another alarming cough. Ochako wonders if this is merely an unfortunate butt-dial until he stammers over the line, “A-ah! Hi, Uraraka-san! This is Midoriya Izuku from Endeavor’s Marketing Division! Oh, wait, you know that already, haha.”

Ochako laughs cautiously. Even over the phone, Midoriya’s usual nervousness is palpable. “Yes sir! How may I help you?”

“Er, yeah! So there’s this urgent thing that I need your help with that’s, um, related to work. It… it’s not weird or anything, it’s totally normal, nothing to be alarmed about. So the Director wants--no, not the Director, I mean-- koff koff koff! ’

Midoriya suffers another coughing fit so violent that it sends Ochako close to panic. “Are you okay sir?! Do you need someone to take you to the hospital?!”

“No, I’m fiiine. Please don’t ask. ” The chief takes a deep breath through the phone which seems to calm him down somewhat. “I’m expecting a package for work, but Secretary Hagakure made a mistake with the shipping address. You’re the one closest, so I was wondering if you could pick it up for me?”

That sounded like a weird mistake to make, but she also knew about the time Tooru-chan accidentally ordered twenty Hawaiian pizzas instead of the single calzone that Chief Midoriya wanted to eat for lunch. “Where do you want me to go?”

Midoriya gives her the exact address and pleads with her to be there in twenty minutes. “I hate to be a bother, but this is important for the company, so you can’t be late, okay? I’m counting on you, Uraraka-san!”

“Okay Chief! I’m heading out,” she says, rushing to her door. Twenty minutes to the address given to her is tight, but she’ll make it if she runs to and from the train station.

It’s good that she changed out of her office heels and into sneakers. She makes it to the address in fifteen minutes. It’s only then that she realizes that she’s in the location without knowing who to look for and what to expect.

Also, she’s in front of MightyLand, the amusement park in the middle of town dedicated to their governor, All Might. It’s closed today for some reason. It’s dark, quiet, and scary as amusement parks which are completely dark tend to be.

Ochako calls Midoriya in pure confusion and tells him, “I don’t think I’m at the right place, Chief.”

Midoriya laughs. “You’re exactly where you should be, Uraraka-san.”

Wondering what he means, she turns around just as the lights click open all around her, and the stagnant water of the fountain at the entrance springs to life.

She almost drops the phone from her hand as the fake castle gates of MightyLand flash and glow in pinks and blues and greens, sparkling prettily under the night sky. Soft string music plays in the background. The lights along the pathway light up one-by-one like fireflies, guiding her eyes to the entrance of the park.

Breathless, she watches Todoroki Shouto emerge from the gates. And while her eyes dart everywhere trying to make sense of what’s happening, his eyes are on nowhere else but her.

“Secretary Uraraka,” he calls as soon as he’s in front of her. He’s in the same three-piece suit and tie she picked for him this morning, but somehow he looked impossibly devilish in it tonight. “Fancy meeting you here on this ordinary night.”

She should pick her jaw off the floor any second now. “G… good evening, Director Todoroki,” she stammers. “Chief Midoriya sent me here on an important errand. I’m afraid I don’t understand what--”

“I allowed you to speak as you normally do around me, Uraraka.”

“Er… yeah, so,” what the fuck, she wanted to say, but instead she squeaks out, “What’s goin’ on?”

Satisfied, he says with an enigmatic smile, “Nothing special. Come.”

He signals her to follow him with a bend of a forefinger, and with very little strength in her to ask any further questions, she silently follows him into the park.

*

She should have known that there wasn’t anything ordinary waiting for her that night.

Even though everything is lit up and functional, the park is entirely empty except for them. While Ochako is busy gawking at all the sights, Director Todoroki is leading the way with brisk, purposeful steps. It takes some effort for her to keep up with his relentless pace until he gets to the destination in mind. Before she realizes it, they’re at the Smashville area of the park, where all the big, scary rides are.

Ochako stares up in horror at Todoroki’s first choice of activity: The Carolina.

“It’s a drop tower, 100 meters tall. We rise to the top at an excruciating pace of 10 km/h and drop at a speed of 100 km/h. Not the tallest or the fastest in the world, but it’s in the top ten,” the unfazed Director explains like he’s talking about the latest performance review. He holds a hand out to the seat at the very center and says, with a smile that looks evil, “After you.”

Ochako doesn’t know how she wills her feet to move, but with nobody to help her escape, she gets strapped in right next to her calm boss.

“D-Director--”

“I know you’re excited,” Todoroki says when they’re fifty meters above ground. “Don’t hold back.”

There’s nothing to hold back, not even her internal organs, when the first drop occurs. And the next one, and the next one. Ochako screams as she’s never screamed before, while Todoroki is so silent that she legitimately worries if he passed out in the middle of the ride.

He didn’t. With a spring in his step, he hops off from the ride and assists her shaking body off the ride. “You must be excited. Don’t worry. There’s more to come.”

Oh, god.

He takes her to the other extreme rides: The Nebraska, The California, The Detroit. Ochako never imagined that there’s more than one way to drop and spin and tumble anyone via a machine, but with each new ride she loses part of her soul and all sensation of her legs. Todoroki’s unnervingly steady after each ride, however, and just brings her to the next one without an ounce of hesitation.

By the time he brings her to the coup de grace of all the rides--The United States of Smash, the biggest roller coaster in Japan--she’s sure of it. The Demon Director brought her here to punish her for all her misdeeds.

“You must be looking forward to this one all night, Secretary Uraraka,” Todoroki says with that same dark smile. “If you’re ready to get on, then…”

He wants to kill her.

Rushing to the nearest wastecan, she hurls up an entire rainbow consisting of all the colors of the energy drinks she ingested that day.

Dammit, how embarrassing! She would have cried but it already takes a lot of effort to stop the earth from spinning in the wrong direction. She hurls for another solid minute when she feels a cold, comforting hand tentatively rubbing circles on her back.

The rush of cool surprisingly makes her feel better in an instant. She stands up and bows to him apologetically. “Director… sorry. This is really icky,” she whimpers helplessly. “I’m super weak when it comes to rides like this. I get dizzy real easy.”

He holds out his expensive silk handkerchief to her. “No, it’s my mistake. I should have anticipated that you had weak labyrinths.”

Were her ears deceiving her, or did that sound like an apology? She takes his handkerchief and wipes her face gratefully. “No… you looked like you wanted to do all those things, so I did my best to keep up.”

Todoroki blinks. “Ah. But I thought you wanted to…” When Ochako stares at him curiously, he pauses and considers his next words carefully. “I assumed that you liked this amusement park like everybody else does. I must have made an error in judgment.”

She laughs weakly. “Nah, I’ve always wanted to go back to MightyLand… just not Smashville.”

He ponders on this briefly. “... okay.” He holds his hand out ahead of them and tilts his head ever so slightly. “Secretary Uraraka, for tonight, you lead and I’ll follow. What do you want to do next?”

She doesn’t hide her surprise at that. And thinks about it. And smiles excitedly.

A long walk to the other side of the park later, Director Todoroki looks up at her ride of choice blankly. “Space World.” he deadpans.

It’s a cutesy, slow ride made for kids that simulates a gentle ride through outer space, complete with planets and aliens and constellations. In front is a statue of Thirteen, the famous space explorer that she idolized when she was in grade school.

“Let’s go in right now!!! Hurry, Director!”

She can hardly believe it. She had promised herself to get on this ride after her resignation, and she’s even willing to line up with all the little kids on a busy weekend just to get here. Yet here she is, no lines, no embarrassing explanations necessary, just her and the Director and the fake stars. Once the little train brakes in front of her she’s climbing on it in an instant.

She doesn’t even notice that she’s dragging Todoroki by the hand until they’re side by side in the car and the lights grow dim around them.

“Oh. Sorry,” she squeaks, thankful that outer space is supposed to be dark and he doesn’t get to see her blush.

Even then, she feels his gaze on her. But he says nothing as the first comet passes them by.

Ochako gasps. It’s a lot prettier than she imagined. The narration drones above them as an emulation of the Big Bang blooms above and around them like a flower. “Oh my gosh, look at that! I can’t believe it, it feels so real! Director, isn’t this pretty?!”

She feels the subtle turn of Director Todoroki’s head toward her. “Yes. Beautiful,” he mumbles somewhere close to her. After a pause, he adds, “I don’t think it feels real, though. If it did, we’d be suffocating by now. There’s no oxygen in the vacuum of space.”

“Geez, Director, just enjoy it.”

“I am,” he assures her, as the little car follows Jupiter into orbit.

But just like that, the ride is over. Ochako is sad when they have to get off--that is, until Todoroki tells her, “We can stay here if you want to go again.”

So she happily pulls him down on the seat next to her, pulls the bar down, and goes through the ride again.

Seven more times.

To his credit, Todoroki sits with her the entire time without complaints. Although she hears him silently fuming in his seat every time she goes “again, again!” She’d feel guilty over it, but dammit he made her go through the Carolina and the Nebraska and the California and the Detroit--twice!--and she needed this after all that he put her through that week.

Anyway, she makes it more tolerable for him by telling him everything she knows about the planets and the stars that the narration doesn’t tell them. “You know, Saturn has 150 moons! Some of them are bigger on Earth, and most of them are frozen solid! Some of them might have oceans under the surface too!”

“I know,” he says quietly. “But keep going.”

Of course he knows everything. But he doesn’t seem to want to ruin her mood, so there’s that. She continues feeding him all the space facts she knew happily.

The moment she says “Okay I’m good,” Director Todoroki gets them off that ride so quickly he almost lifts her up off the seat. “Back to earth with you, Secretary Uraraka.”

She giggles. “Why, Director! Speaking figuratively? I didn’t think you knew how.”

He blinks, as if astonished with himself. “Huh. I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

He drives her out of the park and into a different part of the city. There’s a field decorated with fairy lights, flowers (all hypoallergenic, he says when she braces herself for a sneeze attack) and a table set for two. Below them is the city, and above them are the stars. It’s mind boggling how beautiful the set-up is.

Todoroki leads her to the table. As soon as she sits down, there’s fancy vintage wine being poured in her glass. From a distance, she sees Sato doing finishing touches on a pretty plate. He winks at her when she catches his eye.

They’re served steak, and pasta, and fancy vegetables with violets on them. They’re all delicious as expected, but then Sato comes out with what seems like an unlimited supply of strawberry mochi for them and she’s instantly melting.

“Everything is so good, I can’t believe it,” she gushes. Oh man, the mochi is so good. If she kept up at it, she’s seriously going to explode.

“Good. I’m glad you like it.” There’s a smug look on his face when he says this. Dangerous…

“Director... what’s this about?” she asks suspiciously. This isn’t another ploy to get her to not quit, is it? If he ends up proposing again, she is seriously going to break something expensive (and probably regret it later).

He hums as he cuts up his mochi neatly. “We had a welcome party for Utsushimi. It’s only fair that you had a goodbye party of your own to show my appreciation before you leave. Nothing special, but something ordinary that you liked.”

No proposals then? That’s a relief. She was going to say no (really, she was!) if he had asked, and that would have ruined such a beautiful night. “Director… I’m sorry, but there’s nothing ordinary about what you did for me!”

He blinks. “Taking you to an amusement park and treating you to dinner isn’t ordinary?”

It’s almost amazing that he’s genuinely baffled, but then again she expected nothing less from Todoroki Shouto. “Closing an amusement park so we had it all to ourselves and then treating me to a five star dinner prepared by a famous chef to a picnic under the stars is not what I’d call an ordinary date, Director.”

Wait. Date? Did she say date? Is she out on a date with the Director?

“I see. I’ll take note of that.” Oh no, he didn’t deny it! “For next time.”

Next time?! Oh no. No no no. She can’t date the Director! Reiko and Yui would kill her if they found out! And she didn’t mean it, he suckered her into it, she didn’t want to, not really--

“But you really enjoyed yourself, so I consider this a success,” Todoroki says, satisfied. “You made me ride Space World seven times. I’d give you a salary deduction if you said you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

He is never going to let go of this, is he? Despite that, she laughs again. “I went overboard, didn’t I? It’s just that I’ve wanted to ride that since I was a little girl. You wouldn’t wanna hear it, it isn’t exactly a happy story.”

He stares at her. “Tell me.”

She swallows a bit of mochi reluctantly before starting her story with a sigh. “Well… Director, if you remember from my job interview nine years ago, I told you that I started working for you because I needed to earn money as quickly as possible. It’s obviously because my family wasn’t well-off, and I was the only one who can earn money somehow.”

“... I remember.”

“Well… even when I was little, we were poor. We lived where MightyLand was before the houses there got demolished, so that space is kind of special to us. Sometimes Ma and Pa had extra money to bring me and my cousin Yui there, but the money wasn’t ever enough for passes to get to rides like Space World. Even though I wished for it so hard, I never had the chance.”

Todoroki unexpectedly watches her tell her story in rapt attention. “I see. Why Space World?”

She shrugs. “Why not Space World? Outer space is great, isn’t it?”

She would have studied astrophysics in university if she could, but there’s no point in telling the Director that. He doesn’t seem like the type who feels guilty over anything, but she doesn’t want to test that by admitting that she chose to stay by his side instead of doing what she really wanted.

“So, that’s the sad, sad story of my youth. How about you, Director? You must have been a more interesting kid than I was.”

Todoroki keeps those distinct eyes on her--a black hole and an entirely blue galaxy, she suddenly thinks, moons with oceans hiding under frozen wastelands, the waves beneath straining to reach the surface. He seems to want to reveal them to her, just for a second, but the second passes, and time remains locked.

“No, not really,” he finally decides on saying. “Nothing much happened to me. I grew up as Enji’s heir from the start and worked hard from the moment I learned how to talk. I had no choice, because my older brother failed. Fuyumi and Natsuo were never given the chance to try.”

An older brother? Is he talking about Natsuo? While it’s true that Todoroki Natsuo won’t ever be the heir of Endeavor because he chose to become a physician instead, Ochako could have sworn the Director was talking about someone else.

“It was difficult, but I met most of his expectations, and now I’m here.” His eyes become cold again. Knowing that he gets this way after talking about Todoroki Enji is just the basics of dealing with Todoroki Shouto.

It was her mistake to even suggest bringing up his childhood. Now it’s her job to ease him out of it. “You did great, Director. If we were friends when we were kids, I’d have been the first to cheer you on.”

He freezes for just a second, a look of pure enigma in his eyes. “... is that so? Do you think we would have been friends if we met earlier?”

He seems to be expecting an honest answer out of her. Ochako guesses it has to do with certain parts of his past that he obviously doesn’t want her to see. She can’t blame him, but in all honesty, if they were both young and innocent, being friends with him wouldn’t have been hard. “Yes Director. I don’t doubt it.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. A second passes before he allows himself a relieved smile. “Thank you for your vote of confidence. I’d believe you more if you don’t quit.”

“Don’t even try it, sir.”

He clicks his tongue. And then, in true Todoroki fashion, the conversation’s suddenly over.

With the taste of strawberries lingering in her mouth, she follows as he leads them to a grassy knoll some ways away from dinner. Flowers of all colors surround their feet, glowing ethereally under the moonlight. The city below, the stars above. It’s a beautiful night.

And… cold. Ochako is painfully reminded that she’s in a thin silk blouse and the denim shorts she wore at home when a particularly sharp gust of wind blows past them.

Todoroki observes her with a stern look. “You’re not in appropriate clothing.”

“I didn’t know you were going to bring me to such a windy place, Director.”

“You weren’t supposed to know. This is a surprise, after all.”

Still, he looks frustrated that she’s so cold--not a good look. Her secretary instincts tell her to do something about that. Trying to smile meaningfully through her chattering teeth, she suggests, “You know, ordinary guys offer their jackets to their dates when it gets chilly.”

He blinks twice before he makes that eureka! face again. “I have an idea, Uraraka. Since you’re cold, you should wear my coat.”

“Oh--but you’ll get cold.”

“No, I’m always temperature regulated,” he says with a voice that doesn’t leave her much room to (pretend to) argue.

He drapes his coat around her easily. He’s much taller than her and has wider shoulders, so naturally she’s swallowed instantly in fine woollen bliss. She suppresses a sigh when she feels the toasty warmth, and suppresses a shudder when she feels his fingers brush around her shoulders and her neck.

“Is this okay?” he asks earnestly when he notices her shiver. His warm breath tickles her ear.

She nods through the overwhelming feel of his voice vibrating through her body. Oblivious to this, he nods in satisfaction and looks up at the stars. She stares at his profile against the moon, feeling light-headed and mesmerized at everything.

Oh, gods, this is a date . Reiko and Yui are going to kill her in her sleep.

When he notices her staring, he gives her an odd, puzzled look. “Secretary Uraraka. Since you like the stars so much, you should take advantage of this. I suggest keeping your eyes off me and keeping them to the sky.”

A vein pops on her forehead. Okay, so the Director is still the same clueless demon with no sense of romance. No surprise. This isn’t a date, after all.

She follows his orders and looks up at the sky, lined by a myriad of shooting stars.

*

After the star-gazing session, they both decide that it’s late and he brings her home. He drives the car, and thankfully this time the drive goes by smoothly. He parks at the narrow street in front of her home and follows her out of the car, looking strangely self-assured.

“Director, thanks for the great evening,” she says. “I’m honestly speechless. For a surprise, that was…”

A small smile is on his lips when he asks, “Ideal?”

“Yes, exactly, ideal.” Wait. Ideal. Where has she heard that before?

“Hm. I thought you’d say that,” he says smugly. “I doubt that anybody else will give you as much mochi as you had tonight.”

Describe your ideal partner.

A tall, handsome guy with a stable job who will feed me mochi until I explode!

“And I don’t think anyone else will bring you to an amusement park and a picnic under the stars in the span of a single evening.”

Describe an ideal excursion with your ideal partner.

A date in MightyLand, where we can ride all the rides I like as much as I want!

A simple picnic with tasty food where we can go stargazing afterward is pretty neat too!

This guy is a sneaky, sneaky bastard. Ochako crosses her arms in front of her as Director Todoroki ambles confidently to the trunk of his car. “Finally, I doubt that any other ordinary man will give you…”

Describe an ideal product that you would like to receive from your ideal partner.

A giant stuffed toy that I can hug in my sleep!

(I don’t care what it looks like as long as it’s soft and cute!)

“Director,” she cuts him off with a controlled smile. “There’s… a giant stuffed toy in the back of the trunk, isn’t there?”

Todoroki freezes just as he pulls out the offending item--a giant stuffed cat.

“... how did you predict this,” he says stiffly as he presents the gift to her.

She laughs. “Chief Midoriya almost had a heart attack giving me that survey, you know. You should make it up to him.”

“... maybe,” he says, although the sudden dark look in his eyes tells her otherwise. She should apologize to the freckled Chief when things happen. “In any case, this is for you, if you’ll have it. It’s your very own Victoria. You should be grateful to have such a beautiful object.”

The cat is white and about half as big as her, with a squinty smile and a little bell on its collar. She won’t admit it, but she loves it immediately. She takes it from the Director. “Thank you, Director. I am filled with such gratitude.”

“Formal language, again?”

“I’m just teasing.”

He huffs. “You seem to be getting used to that, Secretary Uraraka. I don’t approve.”

She snickers. “Yeah? Well, approve this! ”

She playfully smacks the cat’s face right into his. She doesn’t know why she suddenly had the balls to do something like that, but the small surprised mmph he produces makes it all worth the risk. When he pushes the cat off of him to glare at her, she’s in another fit of giggles.

“I thought you had a good time. Is this how you say goodnight?” he asks in mild annoyance.

“I did! And, yes,” she says with a confident smile.

“Strange. That’s not what I know of ordinary people saying goodnight on ideal dates.”

Without warning, he steps closer to her, and closer, and closer. She should be backing up to keep a safe distance, far enough that he doesn’t hear her blood rushing or her heart beating or her mind racing into oblivion. She should, but she doesn’t--all she does is hold her breath.

Even when he meets her eyes.

Even when he leans in closer.

Even when her eyes are suddenly squeezing tight in anticipation of something she shouldn’t.

Whatever it is she was waiting for doesn’t come, however. Because what she feels in that cold, dark, anxious and excited void is something cold pressing into the very tip of her nose.

When she comes to, she’s staring cross-eyed right at his index finger.

Todoroki Shouto is poking her on the nose.

He gives a little satisfied smile and steps back. “That’s how they do it, right?”

She stammers, face impossibly red. “No? That’s not a thing anyone does in any planet! Where did you even learn that?!”

He chuckles lightly, the sound of it another shock to her senses. “I guess being ordinary is more challenging than I thought. Goodnight, Secretary Uraraka.”

Why is he so weird? Why is she feeling so bamboozled? Before she can make any sensible words out of her mouth, the Director is already behind the wheel and smugly driving off into the night.

God, all she can do is to run into her apartment, dive on the bed and hide her face over Her Very Own Victoria’s face to hide her blush. But then she remembers what she made this doll do (read: smack the Director in the face), and then she remembers that smooshing her face against it is exactly the wrong thing to do.

Great. How is she supposed to sleep now? Stupid Director!

[whatmack]

are you continuing 'im not making u eggs' :D

Anonymous asked: hi its ur crackhead mattneil anon again :))) r u rlly gonna leave us all hanging like that (also i think u forgot to tag the 2nd part of im not making u eggs) 

Anonymous asked: VOFMSKCN ’VE OW JVKW JS WHY DID U LEAVE IT THERE U HEATHEN

@lunylovegoodlover asked: Your mattneil fic is KILLING ME like OH MY GOD like THEYRE SO SOFT and WHAT GOOD HEALTHY COMMUNICATION THEY ALL HAVE i love them all so so so much. Everything about that series is so soft and perfect and lovely, I’d kill for more of it whenever your fancy strikes. (like seriously though I’ve basically been staring at my laptop in shock for the last five minutes trying to process how much I love this)1) YELL HEAH I AM listen despite knowing before I started which couple was endgame I’ve been riding this mattneil train since day 12) HELLO HELLO and thank you! It should be fixed now?3) ;)4) YOU’RE SO NICE GOSH HELP communication is so! good! A lot of what I write has to do with communication, or miscommunication, I’ve been realizing. It’s so important!

“Hah—wh—n—yeah?”For a terrible moment Neil thinks Skype has cut out for his confession. Hegathers himself to say it again. Matt forestalls him by leaning forward, the crinkleof the blankets loud over laptop speakers, touching his fingertips to the outsideof the camera as if he’s holding Neil’s face. “You, um. Like. You mean like…like?”Neil fists his hands in his lap. Matt has cut right to the heart of it. It mustbe easier for him to think that way, all heart as he is. If Neil’s stomach keepssquirming it’ll wiggle right out of his body, maybe down a leg first to beextra uncomfortable. “I think so? I want to kiss you. And I like spending timewith you. And you’re…you look good.”Especially now, in a threadbare t-shirt that clings to the definition in Matt’schest, the yellow light from his bedside table warming the angles of his face. Neil’snot used to this. It’s similar enough to how he feels about Andrew for him torecognize it, but it’s not the same.Less edge-of-the-world. More…lazy Sunday morning. Though lazy Sundays withAndrew are some of the best parts of Neil’s week, so that division doesn’t makesense.

Neilcan’t define how he feels about Andrew. Has never been able to, to hissatisfaction. He just knows that the feeling is there. Maybe if he’d tried harder to categorize it, he’d be able tofigure out how he’s feeling right now, about Matt.Sensing the beginnings of a headache, Neil presses his fists into the seatcushion through the gap in his crossed legs and pulls back. He first thought ofAndrew in terms of actions; actions are something Neil understands. He wants to kiss Andrew. He enjoys kissing Andrew. He wants to kiss Matt. He likesholding Andrew’s hand. He likes holding Matt’s hand. He likes going places witheither one of them, or both, the few times Andrew has agreed to it. He likessex with Andrew. Does he want–Warring answers clash in Neil’s chest, sending his head spinning off. There’s ajubilant, hungry yes that presseseager pictures of Matt’s smile, his hands, his body, reminds Neil how good itfeels with Andrew, whispers that Matt would be good as well. It batters againsta spike of fear so sharp Neil can’t breathe. It’s not only the memory of hismother’s slap. It’s also his general unfamiliarity with non-Andrew-related desire, thecertainty that despite Andrew’s permission he’s not supposed to feel like thisfor anyone else. It’s not how he’s put together. He’s been silent for too long. Matt has messaged him, the text popping up belowthe pixelated worry sketching wrinkles across his eyebrows, digging lines oneither side of his mouth and poking dimples in his chin.  Neil can u talk to me?

Kinda worried about u

Neil?The panic ebbs, notbanished but content to wait. This is Matt. Matt is safe, warm, giving. Hemight have answers Neil doesn’t, but even if he doesn’t, he’ll help Neil findthem. Neil unclenches his aching fingers and rests them on his knees.

“Do you?” he asks.

Relief breaks across Matt’s face. Neil knows Matt hasn’t heard him over thereassurance of him speaking again, so he repeats himself. The pencil lines ofMatt’s expression rearrange themselves. Thoughtful; holding back. Internally,Neil shakes his head.  The most neutral faceMatt is able to make is a beaming grin.

“Do I want to….” Matt’s lips close in the shape of a kiss. He touches the backof his hand to them, and then blinks and looks away, embarrassed at thegesture. Neil’s not sure why. “Uh. I mean if you’re down?”

His voice cracks. Matt jerks a hand up to cover the bottom of his face. Neiltilts his head. He’s never seen Matt be shy.

It’s fascinating.

“Sorry,” Matt says, muffled by his hand. “Never—actually.”

“You cut out for a second,” Neil says, and Matt swears. He sounds more likehimself as he lowers his hand to try again.

“I just said, I never thought this would happen.”

Neil frowns. “You thought about it?”

“Dude,” Matt groans. He flops back onthe pillows, tipping his image back and forth. Neil’s glad he doesn’t getseasick. “I might have been thinking about it for a while.”

His face is hidden by his pillow and the angle of his chin. Neil doesn’t thinkit’s an accident. “Why?”

Matt’s eyes appear as he cranes his neck. He’s got his t-shirt pulled up overhis nose. Neil misses the sight of his mouth until he notices that Matt’s bellybutton is now exposed. It’s a sight Neil has seen more times than he’d honestlylike to, but this new feeling welling up inside of him urges him to stare. Theskin there looks smooth, a patch of tiny curls meandering down into Matt’swaistband. Neil wonders what it would feel like, to touch. Would the musclesjump if he tickled? What if he scratched, lightly like he does to Matt’s head?

“Hey.” Matt’s voice is gentle. He comes out of his shirt, friction working onNeil’s side for once in his life and keeping it rucked up. “Do you want this tochange anything? It doesn’t have to.”

Neil nods, firm. Of this he’s sure. He wouldn’t have said anything if he didn’t want his words to have an effect. He’s too good at hiding forthat. Unfortunately, that’s where the sureness stops; Neil doesn’t know whatkind of change he wants to happen, just that he wants something. And hopefullyit can involve kissing, but that isn’t necessary. He stares at Matt through thecamera helplessly, wishing he could pierce the miles between them and lean againstMatt’s strong chest, rest in the knowledge of Matt’s breathing and that thingsare, for the next few hours at least, going to be all right.

“How about…um. Can I take you on a date?” Matt bites his lip and then smiles,boyish exuberance trickling back into his frame. He sits up against theheadboard and takes the laptop with him, gesturing with his free hand. “When Ifirst got signed Dan and I used to do these video dates. I’d still like to takeyou out for real, but it’s not that far off from the real thing, we can dressup and everything…” he sees how Neil’s not moving and with visible effort calmsdown. “If you want that. We can do something else.”

“I’d like it. The date,” Neil says, feeling a bit topsy-turvy himself. He’sonly vaguely sure what people do, on dates; he and Andrew don’t tend towardsthat sort of thing, or if they do, it’s more one of them dragging the othersomewhere and them insulting each other and seeing how soon they can get the maître-d(or cinema worker, or park concert usher) to kick them out. Neil has never regrettedthe lack of traditional romancing. It’s a pointless ritual when he and Andreware already wrapped past each other’s deepest twistings. But with Matt….

Matt is so excited, and Neil feels himself pulled along. A small spark ofanticipation pricks under his breastbone. “We can try it.”

“Great!” Matt beams at Neil, and Neil finds himself blushing. Starting to workout why Matt’s smile is affecting him differently now hasn’t dampened thereaction. If anything, it’s made it stronger. “Now where’s my little boy?”

Neil recognizes the distraction tactic for what it is, and is grateful for it.There have been too many feelings for today. He relates the story of the newkitten’s latest exploits to Matt’s rapt attention, which runs right into Mattsharing the story of the puppy he saw on the way to the gym this morning, andthey exchange subjects until Neil gives a cracking yawn and Matt demands thathe go to sleep.

“No,” Neil says, to be contrary.

“What if it will make me feel betterif you go to bed?”

“Guess you’ll never find out.”

Matt laughs. Matt’s laugh has never made Neil feel excluded, the way thelaughter of other children did when he was younger. No, Matt’s is aninvitation, and Neil is smiling without really knowing why. “Okay. Goodnight, babe.”

There’s a slight hesitation before the babe,and it makes Neil want to wrap himself in his bedclothes and hum. He raises hishand to wave as Matt mimes a video fist-bump, and then cuts the call.

It seems he’s got a date.

[maybeishouldwritesomething]

Another Thor/Bruce fic! Thank you again for the support, you guys are amazing. I’m working on a Science Bros too, so hopefully it should be up in the next few days.

Pairing: Bruce Banner/Thor

Word Count: 1794

Warnings: Brief mentions of injury, but nothing detailed.

When two people shared a connection, there was said to be a spark between them. It was an old Earth expression, a quaint little saying and nothing more to it. Lately Bruce had noticed a spark between himself and Thor. Literally. Bruce had had more shocks than he’d have liked from the seemingly unwitting Asgardian. 

The first time it had happened, he had been passing Thor a mug of coffee. Their fingers had brushed and Bruce felt a sharp jolt of electricity. He pulled his hand back in surprise.

“Static,” he murmured, shaking his hand to get rid of the throbbing feeling surging in his fingers. Thor just looked at him over his coffee.

The next time it happened, Bruce had been in his lab working when Thor came in. He’d said he needed to speak to Tony, and Bruce had told him he was out, but he was welcome to wait until he came back. Before long, Thor had moved closer to see what Bruce was doing, and Bruce’s whole body suddenly felt as if it was humming. He caught a glimpse of himself in the side of a piece of equipment. His hair was standing on end, like he’d been attacked with a balloon. He chalked it up to the humidity in the room, making a mental note to fix the thermostat later.

Over the weeks, Bruce began to notice a pattern emerging. Anytime he was around Thor, he’d end up with another unexplained injury, always some kind of shock. He only started to become really concerned about it after one particularly nasty incident when they had been sitting together in the uppermost floor of the Avengers Tower one lazy afternoon. Thor was regaling the group with one of his many stories, and he’d even managed to make Bruce laugh with this one. Not his usual little breathy sound, but a real laugh. Bruce had no time to see what was coming before he was sent flying halfway across the room with what was definitely the biggest shock so far. He wasn’t hurt, thankfully, but it took a lot of deep breathing to stop the situation from getting much worse.

Bruce had let the whole thing slide as an unfortunate accident. There was no real harm done, these things happened. They didn’t to normal people, but Bruce wouldn’t have exactly considered himself normal. Or Thor, for that matter. It wasn’t until he got out of the shower that night that he noticed it. Streaks of pale lines across his shoulder, like lightning. Bruce wasn’t the most superstitious, but he did live in a world where gods of legend existed, and this…this felt like an omen. He quickly pulled a shirt on, trying not to think about it, but he couldn’t help the anxiety rising in him. Was this Thor’s not so subtle way of telling Bruce he didn’t like him? Because at this rate, he really would prefer that Thor would just talk, rather than trying to kill him. Occasionally he would perform little tricks with his lightning for the others if the mood suited him, but he usually saved his magic for battle. Bruce certainly wasn’t asking to be shocked senseless, so then what had he done to piss off the God of Thunder?

He ran it past Tony the next day, and Tony laughed in his face. Was almost doubled over, in fact.

Bruce pulled a face. “Look, if you’re just going to laugh at me, I’ll go elsewhere-“

“No, no, no. I’m sorry, I’ll stop. It’s just-” Tony tried to compose myself. He’d stopped laughing, but that shit-eating grin was still on his face. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“You two have a spark,” Tony told him, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

“I know, that’s what I’ve been telling you, he’s been shocking me for weeks.”

Tony rolled his eyes. It was honestly scary to him how oblivious Bruce could be at times.

“And look-” Bruce pulled at the collar of his shirt to show the lines across his shoulder that showed no sign of disappearing. Tony let out a low whistle.

“What do I do about it?”

“I told you, it’s a spark. I don’t mean literally, although this is one of the rare occasions where that expression can be used literally. He likes you.”

Bruce looked at Tony as if he was insane, and proceeded to tell him so. “Thor doesn’t- That’s crazy, why would you-”

Tony shrugged. “Fine, don’t believe me. But you two need to figure this out before the next one puts you through a window. And I just got them replaced after the wormhole, thank you very much.”

This was insane. Thor didn’t like him. Tony was just messing with him. Although…Thor’s last relationship with a human had been Jane Foster. She was a scientist, so maybe it wasn’t all that weird- wait, relationship? How did he jump that far ahead? He and Thor were friends and that was it, nothing more. Although Bruce couldn’t help but feel a little pang at that. He really did like Thor, probably more than he should. Definitely more than he should. Bruce sighed. No more speculation, it was only serving to drive his anxiety further up the walls. He needed to speak to Thor. He found him alone in the living area of the Tower, stretched out on a couch, enjoying a rare moment of quiet. Bruce cleared his throat to announce himself, not wanting to startle him for fear of being flung through a wall.

Thor turned around, face lighting up when he saw who it was. “Ah, Banner, hello.”

“Hi, can we talk?”

Thor stood up, smile fading as he saw the look on Bruce’s face. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s um.” Bruce trailed off when his eyes caught the scorched patches on the couch Thor had been sitting on. They definitely weren’t there a second ago. Great, as if this wasn’t already terrifying. He tried to remain calm. This was hard enough without the Other Guy making an entrance.

“Are we, uh, good?” he asked.

Thor frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Alright, look. Lately, we’ve uh…being having…incidents.” Bruce was not exactly the greatest at being clear on what he meant most of the time, but even for him, this was ridiculous.

“Incidents?”

“Yeah, you…you haven’t noticed?”

Thor shook his head. “Can you describe these incidents?”

“Well, at first I thought they were accidents, you know, with you having your own personal electrical current. But then I noticed that it was just me they were happening to, so I talked to Tony about it and he said we have a spark.”

“A spark?”

“You really haven’t noticed? You’ve been shocking me left and right for weeks, I thought I’d made you mad and this was your way of telling me.”

“You thought I was angry with you?” Thor asked, and if Bruce didn’t know any better, he’d say he was getting a little pink around the ears.

“I didn’t really have anything to go on. I mean, you’ve been as pleasant as always with me, but the shocks got me thinking I’d done something and you weren’t telling me. Look at this.” Bruce tugged at his shirt. “Should I be worried about this? At least give me a chance to apologise for whatever I did before you melt me.”

Thor couldn’t help it. Bruce looked so genuinely concerned that he was trying to kill him that he burst out laughing. Bruce wasn’t impressed.

“Great, first Tony, now you. Is there something I’m missing here? Because if this some kind of joke you two have got going on behind my back, it’s really not funny-”

Thor held up his hands, trying to regain his composure.

“There is no joke, I promise,” he said sincerely.

“Well then, what is it?”

Thor sat down. “Sit,” he said simply, and Bruce did as he was told. “I was hoping that I could avoid this, but fate has been meddling I see. My powers are something that I control at will as you know, but sometimes…they have a life of their own, depending on strong my emotions are. Sort of like you and-”

“Uh-huh, go on.”

“Right, well, for example, when I’m angry, I can cause power outages just from touching something electrical.”

“Like a poltergeist,” Bruce mused, and Thor tilted his head with a frown.

“Poltergeist?”

“Never mind, I’ll explain later. Go on.”

“And if I’m particularly…” Thor was struggling. “…enamoured, shall we say, with a person, my lightning tends to hone in on them. The scars will fade on their own in time, don’t worry about that.”

Bruce was desperately trying to process the information being thrown at him. “Enamoured? Did you just say enamoured?”

Thor held up a hand. “Let me finish. The last person I had this happen with was Jane. It got so out of hand that I almost set her laboratory on fire before I finally confessed.”

He laughed, as if he were remembering a fond memory and not what sounded like almost manslaughter to Bruce. Maybe that was a fond memory for Thor, he thought. Asgardians were hard to understand.

“I though perhaps it would go away on its own, but well, it proved stubborn, and here we are.”

“So what are you saying?” Bruce dared to ask.

“I’m saying that I need to tell that I’m fond of you before I end up accidentally killing you.”

Bruce huffed a laugh. “That’s probably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.” He fidgeted, unsure as to what to say. “What happens now?”

Thor leaned in and kissed Bruce. The humming feeling was back, but this time it felt comforting, and Bruce didn’t pull away. He dared to pull Thor closer, kissing him harder, as if he could make up for all the time lost in one little moment.

“Oh, for God’s sake, I give you people rooms out of the goodness of my heart,” came Tony’s voice from across the room. “The least you can do is use them and save me my eyesight.”

Bruce jumped, pulling away from Thor too quickly and almost knocking their heads together.

“This is the least you deserve after the stories of your drunken escapades you’ve made me sit through,” Bruce shot back, a little breathless.

Tony just smiled. “Fair point, I’ll let you off this one time. You kids have fun.”

Bruce didn’t dare turn back to Thor until he was certain the elevator door had slid shut with Tony safely behind it.

“Do me a favour?” he asked, resting his forehead against Thor’s. “No more trying to kill me with lightning.”

Thor just laughed. “No promises.”

(You can also find this fic on AO3 here. Thank you for reading!)

[sodokachi]

The Haunted Night

Gift fic for @amynchan

Slight blood and language warning.

Genre: Adventure/Mystery

Word-count: 6934

AO3 LINK

Relationship: Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Chat Noir

Summary: Marinette and Chat Noir are enjoying each other’s company on the day before Halloween when an akuma turns all of Paris into its own personal haunted house. They go on an adventure to find out why the akuma is attacking Paris and to figure out how to beat him.

"Claws out!"

Chat jumped out of his window and grinned as the wind washed over his face and ruffled his hair. He was heading over to the Dupain-Cheng bakery to see Marinette. It was the day before Halloween and she had been keeping her costume a surprise. He was hoping to at least get a glance at it, or maybe even just a hint as to what the costume would be about.

He stopped on a rooftop when he noticed someone walking down the street below him in an angry manner. He saw that the man was dressed in a blue jumpsuit and red ball cap. Deciding the odd outfit warranted a closer look Chat jumped down and put on his best superhero grin.

"Is there something wrong good citizen?" He asked as he channeled his inner hero.

The man glared at him. Now that Chat was closer he noticed the man had a grizzled face with an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

"The only thing wrong is the lack of good morals amongst the people of Paris." He frowned darkly.

Chat blinked in shock at the dark statement. "Why do you say that?" He asked curiously.

"They're shutting down the best damn haunted house in Paris to build housing." He grumbled. "Why do they got to do such a horrid thing?"

Chat frowned in sympathy but cringed at the man’s vulgarity. "That is unfortunate." He shifted uncomfortably at the man’s intense stare.

"What I wouldn't do for that Hawkmoth fella to fix this." He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and started playing with it.

"What? Hawkmoth is the bad guy!" Chat felt the need to point out.

"Don't matter to me kid." He lit the cigarette.

Chat grimaced and wrinkled his nose at the smell. "I'm going to go. Sorry about the haunted house!"

He used his baton to vault back onto the rooftops and breathed a sigh of relief. That guy weirded him out. Why in the world would anyone willingly want Hawkmoth's help?

He landed on Marinette's balcony and rapped his knuckles against her skylight hatch.

"Come on in Chat!" He heard her call. He opened the hatch and dropped onto her bed. He shifted his feet so that they hung off the side. She preferred him not to get it messy with his leather boots.

Marinette's head popped up from where she was standing on the ladder. "Do you want something, Chat? Or are you just here for food? Again." She smirked haughtily.

Chat grinned. "Both. I want some of your infamous company and some of your finest pastries." He chuckled and the girl smiled.

"Coming right up your highness." She said dryly as she rolled her eyes.

She didn't move to get them and Chat pouted and glared into her eyes.

She returned the glare. Seconds turned into much longer as Chat struggled to keep his focus on her eyes. A blur of something pink darting in the corner of his eye had him blinking.

"Ha!" Marinette smirked victoriously. "I win." She hopped off the ladder and did a little victory dance.

He laughed. She was so cute when she was excited. He still wanted his pastries though.

He schooled his expression into a pitiful pout. "Does that mean I don't get any pastries?" He even managed to wiggle his lip like he was about to cry.

Marinette gaped at him. "Um. No I." He widened his eyes further. "Fine!" She caved. "I'll be right back. Don't touch anything!" She warned and left to go get them something to snack on.

As soon as she left Chat moved toward her sewing supplies and looked to see if he could find any clues to what she had been working on. The work bench was surprisingly untidy. He thought Marinette was more organized than this. Maybe it was because she was in a rush? Whatever the reason it made it impossible to find out anything about the outfit. He would just have to ask her directly.

He heard her coming up the stairs just in time to cross the room and lean against her chaise in his best ‘natural pose’. Which, considering he was a model, was actually pretty good.

She sat the plate of cookies down on her desk and he wasted no time in walking over and talking a big bite out of one. "tanks pincess!" He said with a mouthful of cookies.

She frowned. "Don't talk when you're eating." She grumbled and then glanced softly at him. "You’re welcome." She quirked her lips into a smile.

He beamed at her and finished off his first cookie. "So?"

Her brow furrowed. "So what?"

"What is the wonderful, amazing, and absolutely stunning-?"

"Cut to the chase Chat."

"-Princess wearing for the pawsome holiday tomorrow?"

She giggled. "Not telling!" She sing-songed the words.

He pouted in an attempt to get his way once more.

This time she just rolled her eyes. "Honestly Chat, do you really expect that to work-"

A sudden wave of darkness rolled through the room. Everything transformed as it traveled. Her chaise turned black, the cute grinning cat on her desk came alive, and her room was now lit by nothing more than some candles and the now glowing eyes of the grinning cat.

Chat looked around in dread. This was definitely an akuma's work. He glanced at Marinette and gaped. She was now dressed like a witch with a pointy hat and a long black dress.

"Do you have powers?" He asked the most important question first.

Marinette glared at him in annoyance. "No." She stared at him with a flat look on her face as he admired the coolness of her outfit.

When he didn't say anything else she sighed. "Shouldn't you be going after the akuma that caused this?"

Chat shook his head. "I can't just leave you here! What if it's dangerous?" He asked dramatically.

"Then we'll go together. Can't wait for Ladybug to fix things you know?"

"Of course." Chat nodded. "Let's go see if we can find the akuma, then you can hide while Ladybug and I deal with it."

Marinette agreed and they quickly left through the hatch.

As soon as they got outside it became hideously apparent that the whole of Paris had been caught up in the transformation. The streets looked like something right out of the middle ages, made of brick now instead of pavement, and the normal street lights had been turned into oil lampposts.

The river seine looked to have been transformed into blood and the Eiffel tower now looked like it was made of bones.

"Chat," Marinette stressed his name. "What in the world did this akuma do?"

He thought back to that weird guy. "I think... the akuma made Halloween come early."

His friend grimaced. "How in world do we find someone if they have changed the entirety of Paris already?"

Chat looked up. "Maybe we should try the bonefel tower?"

She stared at him. "That sounds like a purrfect idea." She smirked.

Chat grinned and gestured forward like a prince of yore. "Ladies and witches first."

"Good thing I'm both of those now." She said dryly.

They arrived at the tower after a few minutes of walking. Most people seemed to have already gone home. Although they had run into a couple that were running away from what they said was a 'terrifying ghost!'. They weren't sure if that meant the akuma was a ghost or what.

The answer became clear as they got closer to the base of the tower. Under the tower floated a pale eyeless man in a suit and jacket with a locket around his neck.

They glanced at each other knowingly. The akuma was in the locket.

Marinette watched as Chat pulled his baton out. "Stay here, Princess, I'm going to try to get that locket." He said as his face dropped into a much more serious expression.

She nodded and watched as Chat launched himself forward using his baton. She hoped he would be alright without Ladybug.

"Kick his butt, Chat!" She called out. He turned his head and grinned at her.

Just as Chat entered reaching distance the ghost quickly dodged and then flew away. Chat gave chase as quickly as he could. He jumped over several obstacles that had been cars, but now looked like some sort of death themed racers. He gained on the ghost as they moved towards some buildings. His fingers reached for the locket. He just about had it…

His hand passed right through along with the rest of his body a second later. He only realized there was a wall behind the ghost when he rammed face first into it. To add insult to injury the ghost let out cackling wail as it fled.

Marinette came running up to him and put his head in her lap. "Are you alright?!" She asked worriedly.

Chat looked up at her dazedly. "I'm as good as a kitten drenched in butter."

Marinette's eyes crossed. "What? That doesn't even make any sense."

His eyes closed.

Thankfully, Marinette could still feel his warm breath on her hands. She took off her hat to talk to Tikki. "What do we do now?" She whispered.

"You'll have to wait for him to wake up, Marinette. He's tough so there won't be enough time to do anything before he does." Tikki glanced at the small bruise that was already fading on Chat's head. "Not that you'd leave him alone anyway." The little Kwami smiled.

"Yeah." Marinette murmured softly in agreement. "Guess I'll just have to wait."

Tikki nodded and then hid under her hat.

Marinette passed the time by mussing with Chat's fake ears.

Chat blinked lazily. That had been the best nap he could ever remember having. He purred at the feeling of the fingers running through his hair. The hands abruptly stopped and he opened his eyes to pout at Marinette.

"Why'd you stop?"

She stared at him. "Are you an actual cat, because I swear you just freaking purred." She shook her head. "Am I losing my mind?" She wondered.

Chat laughed and sat up. "Nope. I purr when I'm really happy as Chat Noir. Purretty cool eh?" He elbowed her gently in the side. "Eh?" He poked her again.

She shoved him smoothly away from her. "If by cool you mean an affront to all that is holy, then sure, I guess." She tried to frown, but ended up smiling instead.

He grinned back at her. "So, where'd the akuma run off to?" He looked around to see if he could spot it.

"Don't know and it doesn't matter." She said and he turned his eyes back to her. "What do you mean it doesn't matter? I need to catch up to it. Ladybug is probably already fighting it."

Her eyes softened at the mention of Ladybug. "We need to figure out why the akuma can just phase through things and hopefully how to stop it from doing it again. Well, at least long enough for u-Ladybug and you to beat it."

Chat frowned. "And how are we going to do that?"

Marinette slumped. "I don't know. If only we knew why this guy had been akumatized, but he didn't even say anything!"

Chat smiled reassuringly at her. "I met a guy earlier that said they were shutting down a haunted house and he even said Hawkmoth should do something about it."

She looked at him and grinned. "Well there's our lead then!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him. "Let's go! I think I know where the haunted house you're talking about is!"

He let her pull him down the street with a bemused smile on his face.

As they neared the haunted house they noticed a man dressed in rich clothing looking rather bothered. They glanced at each other and nodded.

"Sir!" Marinette waved him over. "We would like to talk to you please."

The man grumbled, but he still acquiesced. "What is the meaning of this? The entire world has gone mad and there's a ghost attacking people." He turned his eyes on Chat and glared. "Aren't you supposed to be fixing things?"

Chat frowned. "Yes sir, and we may need a little bit of info from you to do exactly that."

The man snorted. "Yes, yes. You must need some information because it seems Paris is lacking its true hero."

Marinette seethed. "Don't say that about him you-!" Chat pulled her back as she tried to lunge forward. She struggled in his grip. "Not now, Marinette, please." Marinette stop struggling, but continued to glare at the man. Chat let her go and sighed.

The man looked at the girl with surprise. "She's a feisty one." He muttered. "Fine. What do you need to know?"

Chat straightened up. "Do you know anything about that haunted house?" He pointed just down the street at the old and rickety looking haunted house. It had a small sign saying it was out of business on the door.

The man blinked in surprise. "Why yes, yes I do. I just bought this run down establishment so I could build a nice new house on the land." He nodded pleasantly.

"You bought it?" Chat mumbled. "The ghost is probably after you." He said strongly.

The man's eyes widened in surprise and horror. "Why in the world would it be after me?"

"The haunted house shutting down disappointed a lot of people." Marinette said quietly.

The man grimaced. "Shoot. I need to hide then. Any more questions oh illustrious hero?" He rolled his eyes.

Chat just shook his head and watched the man leave.

"What a jerk." Marinette grumbled as she crossed her arms and glared at his retreating back.

He didn't disagree. "We still don't know enough." his eyes flicked back toward the haunted house. "Let’s see if we can find anything else out from the house itself."

She nodded.

They arrived at the large haunted house and were surprised by the man sitting on the curb outside of it. His clothes were a mixture of greys and blacks and looked like they were made up of rags.

Chat looked at him in concern. "You feeling alright?"

The man looked up at them with cold grey eyes. "You're Chat Noir." He sighed. "What do you need?" He asked softly.

"Well," Marinette gave him a polite smile. "We were wondering if you knew anything about the sale of this haunted house." She pointed to the house behind him.

He frowned darkly. "I do know." He glanced at the house forlornly. "My name is Louis and I own... owned that house."

Marinette and Chat shared a glance. They were finally getting somewhere, hopefully.

"Until that damnable Alexandre came I managed this place perfectly well." He ranted. "But no! This grade a jerkoff just shows up and runs me out of business, smug self-centered little-!"

"Who is Alexandre?" Chat cut in. He glanced worriedly at Marinette whom had covered her ears.

Louis snorted. "Alexandre is the man who stole my business."

Marinette uncovered her ears cautiously. "The buyer?" Chat asked.

"Yeah." Louis muttered. "That guy needs to pay somehow."

Chat frowned. "You may just get your wish. Hawkmoth's akuma is most likely after him."

Louis grinned. "Tch. Serves him right."

Marinette growled. "What is wrong with you?! This is a man’s life we're talking about!"

He scoffed. "Who cares! The guy forced me into a position where I would have to sell! He ain't worth sh-"

"Enough." Chat said clearly. "Thank you for your time."

With that said Chat gently grasped Marinette's hand and pulled her away from the infuriating man. He didn't stop until they were in front of the door to the haunted house.

"You alright Princess?" Chat asked in concern.

Marinette shook her head. "I just hate people like that." She grumbled. "I feel like he should have been the akuma. It would have made sense."

Chat hummed in agreement and then turned to the door. "Think we should go inside?"

Marinette nodded and Chat reached out and turned the door knob.

"Chat Noir! Give me your Miraculous!" The ghost screamed. It flew over the rooftops and started circling the two teenagers.

Chat took a step in front of Marinette. "What's up ghost? Besides you anyway." He smirked.

The ghost wailed. "I am not ghost, I am Plutus!" He then dived towards them.

Chat dove forward while swinging his baton. As he expected the baton went straight through Plutus and hit the ground with a loud clank. "Still can't hit him." He muttered. He turned his head and his eyes widened in alarm.

Plutus flew quickly toward Marinette with a wicked grin. She yelped and dodged to the side, rolling into the dead grass lawn of the haunted house. Plutus shot straight through the door.

"You alright, Marinette?" Chat looked worried.

She groaned and stood up. She looked down at the grass stains on her witch outfit. "I'm fine, Chaton, and also glad that I'm not wearing my regular clothes." She picked at her clothes.

Chat smiled in relief. "That's go-"

Plutus screeched as he shot out from the top window of the house. "You can't take my home from me!"

Chat growled in frustration. "We're not trying to!" He yelled.

"Lies!" Plutus dived towards them again. Chat readied his baton to try and strike at him again and Marinette hid a couple feet behind him.

This time Chat smoothly spun his baton in the hope it would somehow clip the untouchable ghost. Plutus laughed as he went straight through his baton and then Chat himself a brief moment later. Chat shuddered at the cold feeling of the ghost moving through him before his eyes widened in sudden concern. "Marinette!"

Marinette tried to dodge as she had earlier but Plutus was too fast. He clipped her shoulder as he shot past her sending her sprawling into the ground face first. Her pointy witch hat fell to the side and landed next to her.

Plutus shot up into the air as he prepared to dive at Marinette again. Chat moved to stand over her protectively and raised his hand above his head. "Cataclysm!" Dark power coiled into his hand. He pointed it straight at Plutus.

He glared at the ghost. "I won't let you hurt my friend again you good for nothing ghost!"

Plutus laughed and started to dive towards him. He aborted his dive halfway as Hawkmoth's sigil materialized on his face. He seemed to argue with him for a moment before screaming in frustration. He then flew away quickly, disappearing amongst the rooftops.

Chat glared after him until he heard Marinette groan behind him. He quickly dispersed his Cataclysm using a nearby bush and kneeled down to check his friend.

He put his hand on her shoulder as she shifted herself into a sitting position. "Are you alright Princess?" He asked softly, concern shining in his eyes.

She kept the side of her face covered with her hands. "Hurts." She whimpered.

Chat's face grew more worried. He shifted his hand from her shoulder to her uncovered cheek. "Can I see it, Marinette?" He asked gently. His other hand came to gently pull her hands away. With little resistance he managed to move them far enough away from her face to see the damage.

Chat would normally describe Marinette's face as cute, maybe even adorable, but right now it could only be described as an ugly patchwork of reds and blues. One of her eyes was sealed shut by the bruise slowly forming around it, her cheek was scraped badly and her forehead had a curved cut along her brow. Her nose dripped a little bit of blood that he quickly caught with his gloved hand. He glanced down to where her head had hit and grimaced as he realized that she had clipped the sidewalk leading up to the house with her face.

Chat looked in her good eye as he gently cradled her face in his hands. "Marinette, do you have any bandages?"

Marinette made another sound of pain. "Yeah." She groaned. "There's some in my purse."

Chat grimaced. "You didn't bring your purse." He glanced around the neighborhood. "I see what used to be a convenience store. I'll be right back. Okay, Marinette?"

Once she nodded in agreement, he shot off towards the store. It looked like a gothic church with the words 'Convenience Today!' plastered on the top of it in stone letters. As he grabbed the bandages off the shelf he memorized the location so he could come back later and pay. He grabbed a bit of antiseptic as well and started heading back.

"Stupid! How could you let her get hit you idiot!" He muttered to himself.

He arrived to see her muttering something to herself that sounded suspiciously like Ladybug. He grimaced. Of course she wished Ladybug was here. If she had been here Marinette wouldn't have gotten hurt like she had under his protection.

He landed softly next to her and she glanced up at him in surprise. She was once again covering the damage with her hands.

He gently removed them as he held the bandages up to her. "I'm going to patch you up the best I can. If that's alright with you?"

Marinette looked a little confused at his question. "Of course that's alright." She huffed.

Chat let out a little, almost pained, chuckle. "It's nice to see you haven't lost your fiery spirit." He said dryly.

She tried to roll her eyes and then hissed in pain. "That hurt." She whimpered.

Chat's face twisted in guilt. "Alright, let me bandage you before you end up hurting yourself." He said softly.

He cleaned her cheek with the cotton swabs that had come with the bandages until her cheek looked a little less red. He applied a bit of antiseptic to the bandage and then gently applied it to the mass of red on her cheek. She hissed a bit at the feeling of the antiseptic and this time she noticed when he winced guiltily.

Marinette frowned and stared at him with her one good eye. "Chat, I know what you're thinking and this isn't your fault." She stated strongly.

Chat just grimaced and started cleaning up her black eye. He wouldn't be able to bandage it up, but he could hopefully stop her from getting an infection. He dabbed a cotton swab into the antiseptic. Just as he was about to start applying it Marinette stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"Chat." She glared at him with her good eye and he looked away from her. "Look at me Chat." She grabbed his cheeks with her hands and forced him to look at her. "This. Is. Not. Your. Fault!" She pushed and pulled on his cheeks as she spoke. She let him go.

"Ow." He muttered. He rubbed his abused cheeks and frowned at her. "Was that entirely necessary?"

Marinette almost scowled before remembering her bruises and settled for frowning sternly instead. "Stop feeling guilt over things that aren't your fault and then I won't need to do that."

"Fine." He pouted. "I still need to do your eye." He muttered.

"Not until you admit it's not your fault." She said stubbornly.

He sighed. "I know it's not." He gave her a soft glance. "I just feel like you’re my responsibility, Marinette." He shrugged. "I'll try not to feel guilty, okay?" He said uneasily.

Marinette sighed. "Guess that's the best I'm getting." She muttered. "Go on now." She gestured to his hand that held the swab.

He gently dabbed around her eye and she tried her best to hold in her hisses of pain. He finished applying another bandage on her head cut and one across her nose. One he was done he put all of the leftover bandages in the bag the bandages had originally been in and picked it up.

"So, what now?" She asked curiously.

He grimaced and glanced down at his ring. "Right now you're going to hang here while I go recharge. I'll see you in less than five." He gave her a pleading look. "Please stay out of trouble Princess."

She cringed. "Ugh. I tried to roll my eyes again. Just go Chaton. I'll be fine." She smiled reassuredly.

He smiled hesitantly and then quickly moved away.

As soon as he was gone she picked up her pointy witch hat and put it back on her head. She then turned to talk to the kwami. "We should see if there's anything in that haunted house that could explain this akuma."

Tikki beamed at her. "Let's do it!"

Adrien sighed. "Hurry up Plagg. We need to get back to Marinette as soon as possible."

Plagg glared at him. "The best cheese cannot be eaten in a rush, Adrien, you should know better."

"I've seen you eat an entire wheel in one bite!" Adrien argued.

Plagg just rolled his eyes at him.

Adrien grimaced and was about to start grumbling when he heard two voices arguing. He vaguely recognized the voices as the buyer and seller from earlier. What were their names again?

"Leave me be Louis! I paid you plenty enough for that house of yours." Right the sellers name was Louis.

"Screw you Alexandre, you lying sack of-" Right! The buyers name was Alexandre and he totally hadn't needed them to tell him to figure it out!

Plagg shook his small head. "Idiot." He said as he swallowed the last bit of his cheese.

Adrien frowned. "They're getting too close Plagg, hide." Plagg darted into his waistcoat.

Adrien took a deep breath. His pirate clothes were not helping his confidence. "...Even if the brown waistcoat looks cool." He mumbled to himself.

He moved closer to the two men so that he could listen in. Maybe they would say something they weren't willing to say to Chat and Marinette.

"You can't do this to me, Alexandre. My wife-" Louis groused.

"Your wife is the only reason I bought the stupid thing!" Alexandre griped.

"I want my house back!" Louis yelled.

"Too bad! You're not getting it back. Now if you'll excuse me, I was just leaving until this whole akuma thing dies down." Alexandre and Louis parted ways after that with Louis muttering darkly under his breath while clutching at the rags near his chest and Alexandre with his chin held up high.

Adrien frowned. "What in the world is up with those two?"

Plagg came back out of his waistcoat. "The better question is: Where is Ladybug?" He asked with an annoyed expression.

Adrien blinked. "I... don't know?" He frowned again. "I hope she gets here soon. I bet her Lucky Charm would be helpful." He sighed. "She's smarter to and stronger. She wouldn't have let Marinette get-" Plagg growled and then flicked his head.

"That Marinette girl is right. You need to stop blaming yourself and focus on the task at hand." Plagg said wisely.

Adrien stared at him in surprise. "I guess even you can sound smart occasionally Plagg."

"Exactly. Wait." Plagg looked at him in confusion. "D-did you just insult me?"

"Nope." Adrien rolled his eyes. "I was just saying how great you are!" He smirked.

Plagg looked at him skeptically. "...Good then." He nodded in satisfaction.

"Let’s get back to Marinette. I don't like leaving her for too long when there's an akuma around." He thrust his hand into the air and posed. "Claws out!"

Marinette searched throughout the surprisingly boring haunted house, even if the outside looked so lackluster, she still had had hope there was something of interest inside. She expected more than just a couple of skeletons and fake candles. She had already searched the upper rooms and the bottom floor without finding a thing. So when she stumbled upon a cellar door with a lock on it she had to stomp down her grin of excitement. She still needed to find Plutus’s weakness after all.

"Tikki can you-?"

Her Kwami was already ahead of her. She unlocked the wooden door and grinned happily at Marinette. "Done!"

Marinette smiled. "Good job, Tikki." She patted her kwami on the head.

Once inside she looked around and frowned when she saw (or didn’t see) how dark it was. Tikki beamed brightly. No wait she was actually beaming, like a lightbulb, and moved deeper into the cellar.

Marinette grinned at her little friend. "You're the best, Tikki!"

Tikki giggled. "I try~"

Marinette looked around. There were a couple of barrels and old furniture. A couple of old fake skeletons and a single desk.

Tikki sat down on the desk. "Marinette, there's a book over here!"

Marinette made her way over with a curious look on her face. She sat down at the desk and looked at the book. It didn't have a title and its cover was made of a tough red leather. It was also incredibly small and unused. She doubted there would be much of anything written in it.

She opened it and noticed no one had signed their name. She sighed. "Guess I'll just have to read it."

 Dear Journal,

My wife has given this to me along with a locket. I have decided to humor her this once about writing in you. Since I need to be down here for more than a minute I suppose I should tell you about my day.

This is our tenth anniversary and we spent it joyfully. Even though we have failed to have any children I believe we are as happy as a couple can be. Especially as I took her out for a fancy dinner and we spent the evening walking along the Seine.

When we arrived back my wife gave me this journal and the locket. While the journal seems a little strange the locket is actually an old one of mine. I had given it to her on our first anniversary. It broke a while back and we had never gotten around to fixing it.

It is amazing that such an old thing has transformed so much over the course of our lives. I'm happy to have it back.

 Transformed? She frowned. Was that it? She flipped the paged and found little aborted attempts to write on more normal days until one day he wrote another full(ish) entry.

 Dear Journal,

My wife has passed away. This journal and her locket is the last of the things I have left of her.

The locket will forever remind me of her. I have decided to sell everything of ours in Paris and move away. An old friend of mine has agreed to buy this place.

I miss my wife.

 Marinette stared at the last sentence.

"Are you alright, Marinette?" Tikki asked worriedly.

"I think so Tikki." She said softly. "It's just sad that this man lost his wife."

Tikki hugged her uninjured cheek. "You’re so kind Marinette!" She smiled.

Marinette smiled back at her. They both started when they heard a yowl.

"He's back." Marinette murmured. She would have transformed if he hadn't already been diving through the ceiling above her.

"Leave!" Plutus screeched. "That is not yours!"

Marinette dived out of the chair. She didn't wait to see Plutus go straight through the chair and then the floor. Tikki darted to hide under her hat as Marinette left the cellar. As she exited she heard Plutus screech again and threw herself up against a wall just in time for Plutus to shoot out of the floor where she had been standing. Without watching him once again disappear through the ceiling she started running towards the front door.

Right before she reached the door the ghost floated down from the ceiling and blocked her. "Now now, little girl, you’re in my house touching my things. You need to be punished." He said scathingly.

Marinette's uncovered eye darted around as she tried to figure a way out of the house. "Mind getting out of the way for me, Plutus?" She asked with a small smirk.

Plutus laughed. "Dumb questions all you got now, eh? Where's your pet kitty now, girl?"

"That'd be behind you ghosty." Chat as he jumped through the ghost and picked up Marinette in a bridal carry. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he ran up the stairs. They could both hear Plutus scream in frustration as he tried to follow.

Chat ran through the main hallway on the second floor and held Marinette up with one arm as he used the other to throw his baton at a window. It shattered and a moment later Chat jumped through it with both his arms and body coiled protectively around Marinette.

He landed on one knee and reached out with his hand to catch his falling baton. He used it to immediately shoot them onto the nearest rooftop.

He covered distance quickly as he made to get as far away from Plutus as possible. He ended up on Marinette's balcony. The haunted light of several candles lit up the balcony in an orange glow.

He put her down. "Are you-?"

"Yes, Chat." She rolled her one good eye. Seeing his put out look she sighed. "I'm fine Chat. Thanks for the save." She said softly.

He lost the look and smiled. "No problem, Princess."

"What took you so long anyway?" She asked curiously.

"I ran into Alexandre and Louis having an argument about the sell." He told her. "Louis brought up his wife and Alexandre said that's why he bought the haunted house in the first place." Chat shrugged. "I wish Ladybug was here. She could probably figure this all out."

Marinette's brow furrowed in thought. "She probably already di-would have figured it out, Chaton."

"That doesn’t matter though." Chat nodded to himself.

She blinked, which looked more like a wink with only one eye. "Why not?" She asked.

"I'm going to Cataclysm the locket." He explained. "He seems to fear it, so hopefully it will work."

Marinette bit her lip to stop herself from disagreeing. "I guess I'll stay here then. So I won't be in any danger!" She smiled brightly at him. "This time kick his butt for real, Chat." She patted him on the shoulder.

Chat chuckled. "Can do Princess!" He vaulted off her roof with a jaunty salute.

Tikki popped out from under her hat as she watched Chat move back towards the haunted house. "Ready to transform Marinette?"

Marinette grinned. "I was born ready, Tikki. Spots on!" With a flash of light Ladybug went swinging after her partner.

Ladybug arrived just in time to see Chat Noir being thrown into the Seine.

Plutus hovered over the river, cackling, and was jeering down at Chat. He turned his body toward her. “Oh? The bug finally shows up to the party!” He laughed.

Chat dragged himself out of the river and Ladybug let out a sigh of relief. She tuned to Plutus and started spinning her yoyo. “This isn’t really the kind of party I like.” She smirked. “My kind of parties have fewer stupid ghosts.” She told him.

Plutus scoff echoed through the air. “Spare me the inane retorts. You’re sidekick has already made enough of them.”

She scowled and winced slightly. “He is my partner, not my sidekick.” She said flatly.

“He’s trash.” Plutus snickered. “He couldn’t even protect his little friend.” He grinned viciously.

Chat Noir used his baton to jump over to Ladybug. “Maybe not,” He said with a lopsided smile. “But I’m still gonna kick your butt.”

He looked over at Ladybug and did a double take. “My Lady you…?”

She smiled at him. “Sorry I’m late, Chaton.”

He shook his head as if to clear it and his look turned determined. “What’s the plan?”

She smiled grimly. “I managed to run into Marinette before I got here and I think we figured this guy out.”

Plutus laughed and both of them turned to him. “Figured me out? What does that even mean?” He sneered. “Stupid brats.”

Ladybug smirked. “Really Louis? Surely you can do better than that.”

Plutus froze. “How?!”

“Marinette found that journal of yours.” She told him. “A locket that transforms the user at will isn’t that strange for an akuma.”

Chat glanced at her. “Is he doing this because he got run out of business?” He questioned.

She shook her head sadly. “He wanted to sell it because it reminded him of his late wife.” She turned and frowned at the akuma. “He regretted his decision and Hawkmoth took advantage of him shortly after.”

“That is some impressive detective work, but-” Chat gestured his baton towards the hovering Plutus. “How are we going to actually get the locket?”

“He has to become tangible to hit us.” She looked at him with regret. “One of us is going to have to be bait.”

Plutus laughed. “I do like some tasty bait.” He grinned.

Ladybug shook her head at his words. “Follow my lead, Chat.”

“Of course, My Lady.” He smirked.

Ladybug threw her yoyo and swung herself in an arc towards the akuma. Chat ran towards the akuma from the other side.

“Pointless!” Plutus snarled.

“Lucky Charm!” She shouted and blinked at the large cloth she had been given. “I know what to do.” She smirked. Chat stopped and stared at her. “What do you need me to do?”

Her smirk widened. “Get ready to grab the locket.” He nodded.

“Hey Louis! You suck!” Chat looked at her like she was crazy. “It’s too bad you’re such a boring akuma. Maybe if you were more interesting I would have shown up sooner.”

She held the cloth and both hands as she watched Plutus shake in anger. “What’s wrong? Bug got your tongue?”

He screamed and flew straight at her.  She held the cloth out. “Come on! I’m not even going to defend myself!” She glanced at Chat. “Chat, use Cataclysm!”

He did as she asked just as the ghost reached her. She dodged to the side and let go of the cloth. Plutus yelled in frustration as got tangled up in it. He phased through it and turned towards the smirking Ladybug. “How dare you-!” Ladybug pointed down. He blinked and looked down just in time to see Chat. He was holding on to his extended baton as he reached out to grab Plutus’s locket with the same hand that held Cataclysm.

“No!” He yelled and tried to move away. He was too late and had to watch as the locket disintegrated. The akuma floated out of the remains as Chat caught the now tangible and non-floating Louis.

“Bye-bye little butterfly!” She smiled as the now purified butterfly flew away.

She grabbed the cloth off the ground and threw it into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The wave of red and black scattered across Paris and changed everything back to normal. Some of it even ran around Ladybug’s head and healed her scrapes and bruises.

She held out her fist towards Chat Noir and smiled confidently. He completed the fist-bump with a soft smile on his face. “Pound it.” They said at the same time.

Beep beep. “That’s my queue to bug out!” She said cheerfully. She quickly swung away with her yoyo.

Chat sighed and smiled. “See you in a minute.” He murmured.

The large glass door to Hawkmoth’s inner sanctum closed as the purified akuma came to rest on his shoulder.

He glared darkly at the ground. “Curse you. If it wasn’t for that meddling hat girl I would have won. Next time you won’t be so lucky.” He clenched his fist in front of him and scowled. “Next time I shall have your Miraculous! Ladybug!”

Marinette grinned as she put the finishing touches on her costume for Halloween. Chat would be in for a shock when he sees it for sure.

A knock sounded on her hatch and she quickly hid the ensemble in her closet. Tikki hid as she called for Chat to let himself in.

Chat tumbled down from her bed and grinned at her. “Hey Prince-” he yawned mid-greeting.

She smiled at him. “Hey Chat Noir, long day?” She giggled.

He chuckled. “You were there.” He reminded her calmly.

She blinked. “Well, it was tiring for me too.”

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I meant…” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Are you feeling better now?” He asked smoothly.

“I’m purrfectly fine now, Chat Noir.” She smiled coyly. “When you defeated him that light came and fixed me up.”

Chat smiled tiredly. “I’m glad you’re feeling good enough to steal my puns, Princess.”

“Your face okay from that run in with the wall you had earlier?” She asked a flash of concern on display in her bluebell eyes.

He nodded. “My face is magnificent, as always.” He said cheekily.

They both smiled and stood there for a moment, just enjoying the companionable silence.

Marinette glanced at the time. “You should probably go, Chat. It’s really late.”

“Of course, Princess. Have a good night.” He smiled and bowed. He hopped up to her bed and was about to leave through the hatch when Marinette stopped him to say something.

“Chat… Thanks for keeping me safe.” She said softly with her hands clasped in front of her.

Chat grinned widely. “That’s my job,” He jumped through the hatch and landed on her balcony. “My Lady.” He whispered and then leapt off into the night.