#we all knew that it was a matter of time before i wrote a bonk fic lol

[that-was-anticlimactic]

time stops, but still your heart is beating

Ten minutes later, Megumi felt a soft thunk on his shoulder. He instinctively froze, fingers twitching, but relaxed when he saw that it was just Yuuji’s head.

Wait—

Megumi tensed again, perhaps even more than before, and slowly looked down at his shoulder.

Yuuji’s head was on his shoulder and he was dead asleep.

Well, Megumi wasn’t very tired anymore. Shit.

[or, megumi is gay and yuuji is pretty and gosh darn it megumi wants to lay his head on yuuji's shoulder so badly he's gonna explode]

💥6,471 words | itafushi💥

based off of this art by @arinavah <3 bestie i hope you know that i think about this art a lot... they bonk...

[yoonieper]

For the Birds— Part 2 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff, a hint of enemies to lovers~ 

♡ Rated: L for Loathe

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! 

♡ Chapter Warnings: Y/n and Jk tension, mentions of substance abuse (alcohol), mentions of Jungkook getting reealllyyyy drunk, <— throws up 😬, Jimin is best boy and the bestest friend but my man is ready to throw hands… 

♡ Word Count: 11.6k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Honsool by Agust D— see masterlist for full playlist! 

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover and @teawithhoneyandlemon for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! 

♡ Author’s Note: This chapter is the calm before the storm, but we ain’t slowing down at all for part 3 >:) ~ Y’all can thank Smoke Sprite for this hehehe (it just came out when I wrote this)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

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Seven months later…

Knowing what you know now, you felt bad that there was ever a phase in your life when you hated Jeon Jungkook. Hate was a strong word, you know that now, and you knew it back then too; but it was always the first word that would pop into your head whenever you’d think about the man. 

Ever since your first day at Golden Tech, he made your life working at the company an actual living hell. You loved your job, and you were dedicated to it a hundred percent. You had worked way too hard to get where you were to slack around. You were living your dream— you were still young, working a stable, well-paying job at a high-end tech company, you had great coworkers for the most part… There was nothing to complain about besides the person who supervised your department. 

That’s what made it so frustrating. 

And to make matters worse, it was probably for the dumbest of reasons. Sure, no one wants coffee spilled on them, you would have gotten a little mad if you were in that situation; but there was no need to make someone’s life miserable because of a simple mistake— for years.

It’s not like you purposefully ran into him. You both had just turned the corner at the same time and bonked into each other. It happens. Some of your coworkers said you should have gone to his office later and begged for his forgiveness, but you thought that was ridiculous because it had just been an accident. A simple, unintentional mischance that could have happened to anyone.

It’s also not like you didn’t try to apologize— you both ran into each other the very next day, and as soon as you saw him, you hurried to catch up to him to tell him how sorry you were; you even offered to pay to get his suit cleaned or replaced. Jeon Jungkook hardly paid you any attention as he said it was fine and walked away with his posse of executives following him. It was strange, but you hoped that it just meant that your first meeting was water under the bridge and things would be fine. If you knew what you were in store for, you probably would have quit right on the spot, but not before you gave him one good, firm slap on your way out.

No, your ambition clouded your vision each time Director Son would give you assignments straight from the boss himself, and it was always mountains above your coworkers. You wanted to believe he saw potential in you, that maybe this was just an initiation into the office and all the newbies were given more work straight from the Head Director himself to showcase their abilities. This was just a test, you kept telling yourself for far too long, and in the end he’s going to see just how capable you are, earning his respect like everyone else did at some point. There weren’t that many people who worked on this floor in comparison to the rest of the building. All the teams were on the smaller side, so you figured this was just a tight-knit department you needed to steadily break your way into.  

That’s how you kept yourself cheerful despite how it seemed like every night your workload would have you staying in the office until the wee hours of the morning trying to get everything done. 

Everything changed when you weren’t the newest employee in your department anymore. Jungkook was oh so welcoming to your hoobaes and would give them slightly less work before steadily building up to the overwhelming amount everyone was eventually given. It wasn’t great, but it was lightyears ahead of what you experienced during your first few months at the company.

You kept telling yourself that there had to be a reason. You never really spoke to him, there was hardly any opportunity to piss him off; surely there was more of a reason than the incident on your first day.

The next person who joined the department after you did, you slowly began to notice the difference from your initial few months, and at first you had tried to come up with this whole theory in your head that maybe he was flirting with the newest member of the team. She was pretty and a lot of the guys around the office talked about her. You figured your boss might be like them, just another man trying to get into her pants, and for some reason easing her workload was his way of flirting.

That theory quickly died when Taehyung told you he was married despite you both apparently being the same age. Then Hoseok started working at the company and was given the same special treatment as her. Jungkook was seemingly nice and welcoming to everyone else but you.

That’s where your… annoyance, turned into hatred, because at the end of the day, you knew this was all simply because you had ACCIDENTALLY SPILLED COFFEE ALL OVER HIS STUPID, EXPENSIVE ASS SUIT (you checked when you got home how much it would cost you to replace it. If he would have taken you up on your offer, it would have had you living on ramen alone for months) AND HE JUST WANTED TO MAKE YOU MISERABLE BECAUSE OF IT. 

And maybe, just MAYBE, if that was the only suit he owned, you would have understood his pettiness a little better. You have this one nice dress you splurged on when you found out you’d gotten an interview for Golden Tech, and if someone had messed it up, it would have taken a lot more than an “I’m sorry” for you to fully get over it. But every day your coworkers would talk about how expensive his suits were, all belonging to brand names guys around the office knew about and would rave over. They would stand around sighing about how handsome he looked and how they felt like they needed to pay him just for gazing upon his presence.

It was a little dramatic, and even though Jungkook was never around to hear it, you always thought it was just another way to kiss his ass a little harder, vaguely hoping for the chance he would hear and reward them for their willingness to bend over backwards for him. 

But that’s besides the point. One thing was clear from their words: Jungkook had money, and a lot of it, there was absolutely no valid reason for him to be that upset at you.

So you despised him. 

You hated Jungkook longer than anyone at the office did. At first, they just seemed confused whenever you would rant your troubles to them— saying things like, “he normally wasn’t like this.” But as months turned to years, Jungkook’s pettiness began spreading to all the employees who worked under him. You couldn’t say he was the best boss in the world when you first started working at the company, but as the days passed, he seemed to get that much more rigid, cold, and reclusive.

It probably hadn’t even been a full year after you started working at Golden Tech, when all the employees joined you in complaining about how annoying he was to work for.

You used to see him all the time walking around the office doing this or that, but later on, you only saw him arrive but never leave. There were many instances in which almost everyone on the floor was given so much work, that you’d all have to stay past your normal hours; way too many times than anything reasonable. All he ever did was work, work, and work, making sure everyone was going above and beyond their job description. It was excessive, so much so that some people in your department ended up leaving because their job was interfering with their personal lives too much.

To make matters worse, everyone was always on edge. There were rumors that some of the people who were fired over the years were let go because they weren’t able to keep up with his outrageous demands. Some of your coworkers said that they left his office in tears because he basically belittled them to the ground, calling them worthless, and many other unspeakable things. It was awful. You never knew if this was actually true or not, no one really did, but it kept everyone on edge to the point that the mysterious Jeon Jungkook was feared amongst most. But it didn’t really matter to you. 

You used to think you had a good understanding of him. All your coworkers who were brought into the department before you would always say he was this bright-eyed, sweet, eager to please kid who everyone had high hopes for. Jungkook had never shown any of this during the time since you’d been working here, so you honestly doubted their assurances. 

According to you, ‘Jungkook’ and ‘sweet’ couldn’t even exist in the same sentence.

Jeon Jungkook was just a spoiled, rich kid who had no real interest in Golden Tech. He seemed to have no idea how to be a boss, was a sadistic asshole who got off on making people miserable, and was just there, waiting until the CEO position was handed off to him just because of who his daddy was— which you were sure would result in the crash and burn of the whole company.

A few months ago, he literally just didn’t show up to work for a week without any sort of notice. This left your department scrambling because important deadlines were coming up. When Friday rolled around the next week and he still wasn’t back, people kept asking where he was because certain things couldn’t get done without him at the office. He was basically MIA, no one was able to contact him. 

Jimin had emailed everyone later that day because the complaints grew too loud. Jungkook apparently had been diagnosed with pneumonia earlier that day and wouldn’t be in for a while. An excuse, for sure, but that didn’t explain where he’d been for the last week. Maybe he was off vacationing in one of the many homes his family owned around the world, while your team was left scrambling during his absence.

But it seemed as though you were the only one who harbored any real hatred for him. 

Many girls around the office would still fawn over his handsome face, making you roll your eyes every time, because all they needed was one glance their way and they were squealing like schoolgirls. Was that really all it took for everyone to forget how awful he was? You didn’t get it, not even one bit.

Even your friend was somehow pulled into the allure. When you’d pass by him in meetings, despite Solmi oftentimes being the listening ear to your rants about how impertinent you thought Jeon Jungkook was, she would still sometimes gaze at him sympathetically; it was something everyone around the office occasionally did.

“Something’s just off.”

“He wasn’t like this before, he was such a sweet kid.”

“Maybe it’s just stress?”

They would always have an explanation ready. You never understood why, but you weren’t working there yet when he was still “nice,” and they also weren’t on the receiving end of his pettiness directly.

Someone might laugh at the fact that you were still feeling the effects of your little incident nearly two years after it happened. But no matter how hard you worked, how many times you tried to apologize, nothing you did was ever enough to make him forgive you. So you opted to hate him, and you used that hate to fuel your ambition even further. 

In some strange way, Jungkook’s pettiness ended up helping you in the long run. All that hard work you put in made the other executives notice you. Due to your previous experience at another big tech provider, you were quickly promoted to be the manager of one of the finance teams when the position became available.

That just helped open even more doors for you. It was only a few weeks after celebrating your second year at the company (October 6th, 2023, a little over 24 months after you were hired— not that you were bragging or anything), when Director Son informed you about the promotion. The associate director position became available due to her retiring; apparently, even while being relatively new in comparison to the other managers and on the younger side, they still believed you would be the best one to take over the position.

Of course you took it. You were only twenty-six and now the Associate Director of the financial team for the Seoul division at a trillion won tech company that was led by the CEO’s son. Again, not like you were bragging, but your resume was insane.

As nice as the high was, this… this is when everything changed.

See, some might call you strange that you hated someone so deeply when you barely even knew them. You honestly had no clue about him, you hardly ever saw the man besides during the very occasional meetings; but most of the time, he only met up with Director Son and the old associate director to get updates. You could probably use your fingers to count how many times you both have spoken to each other. Any time you’d normally communicate would only be over email, and it didn’t help how much he was in his office. The only things you really knew about Jungkook were that you both were the same age, that he was the CEO’s son, and supposedly, that he was married.

That's what most people knew about him, and of course there were probably tabloids out there if you ever wanted to learn more, but you never found the need to know anything else other than the basics.

That’s why when Jungkook called you into his office after your promotion, you were in for a rude awakening on the fact that you never really know what goes on behind closed doors.

The meeting itself wasn’t that eventful. Jungkook just wanted to elaborate more on your new role as an associate director and inform you about your new duties on the projects your team was currently working on. However, you ended up feeling differently than expected. 

You’d spent the whole morning preparing for your first meeting with him. You had coached yourself the day before on how to approach it— you weren’t planning to be rude, but maybe a bit passive-aggressive; just enough to set a boundary to be taken seriously and establish yourself as a professional, not just some pushover. 

You’d picked out your best ‘bad bitch’ outfit the night before— not for him— but to give yourself the extra confidence you needed to stand up to the person who’s been the bane of your existence for the past two years. You wore a tight, black dress with gold buttons detailing all the way down the front. It was probably the nicest thing in your closet besides the dress you bought for your interview. You paired it off with matching gold accessories and black stilettos with a cute gold heel. You couldn’t tell someone how long you spent working on your hair and makeup this morning trying to get that last level of perfection. 

It was all worth it though. When you arrived at the office that day, you held your head high as you made your way to your desk. A smile was plastered on your face as your heels clicked through the halls. Your coworkers were staring and whispering while you walked past them, the attention making your heart swell, because at the end of the day, you knew they were only saying good things.

It gave you a nice confidence boost, but as the time ticked away, it was obvious to your friends you weren’t as composed as you wanted them to believe. As the time of the meeting approached, Taehyung and Solmi tried their best to calm you down as you rehearsed what you thought would happen later.

“Grrr, I’m Jeon Jungkook, and I hereby bestow you this mountain load of paperwork.” Solmi said dramatically, as she shook a piece of paper in front of your face before setting it down gracefully on your desk.

You cleared your throat. “I’ll take care of these, Director Jeon. And as the new associate director, I hope we can establish a more compassionate relationship.” When you finished, you eagerly looked up at your two friends.

“Yeah, she’s going to get eaten alive.” Taehyung sighed, concern filled his eyes the longer he stared at you. Solmi shared the same worried look.

“Calm down guys, I think I got this.” You smiled as you turned to your computer and saw the time. There was only an hour left.

“Y/n, we’ll wait for you as close as we can. Scream if he tries to eat you.” Solmi said as she rested her hand on your shoulder.

You looked over at Taehyung, who seemed to grow more worried by the second.

“I’ll be fine. If anything, he should be more scared that I’ll eat him first.” You laughed a little too hard, but seeing the look on Solmi’s face made you realize that might not have been the best way to phrase it.

No matter the amount of smiles or jokes you shared with your friends, nothing could stop the anxiety from creeping in, it just made you even more terrified of what might happen later. You were worried if you’d even walk out of it still having a job (let’s just say you had a lot you wanted to say to him, but one wrong move would be enough for you to derail from your well-rehearsed script and finally spill that can of worms full of deep seeded anger).

When the time finally arrived, Secretary Yu told you Director Jeon was in a meeting and that you could have a seat in his office for the time being. You bowed at her words, but on your way in you couldn’t help but roll your eyes because of course he was late. You were so busy cursing him out in your head, it didn’t even register that you were in his office for the first time until the door closed behind you. 

You were shocked to find you weren’t greeted with a demon’s lair like what you had expected. His office was relatively modern, with lots of black furniture— it was sleek and expensive like everything he owned. There were a couple of plants sitting around that added a nice splice of greenery. His office also had a big window with a nice view to the right that overlooked the city. However, what you were most surprised to find were all the family photos sprinkled around the place.

There were some that sat on his desk but your eyes were immediately drawn to the three big pictures on the wall beside you as you came in. 

The one that sat right in the middle you were sure was a family photo of the Jeon family. You recognized the CEO sitting on a chair that almost looked like a throne. There was also a small, slightly older, beautiful woman who was dazzlingly dressed sitting on a stool next to him, holding his hand, and two boys stood behind them. One you instantly recognized as Jungkook, only a little younger— maybe college-aged, and standing right behind him was a man who looked like he could have been his twin. He stood maybe a few centimeters taller and shared the same face, except he had a few more of his mom’s features, his sharp eyes for example. You had to assume it was the brother you heard your coworkers talk about from time to time. On the other hand, Jungkook was nearly the spitting image of the CEO, only decades younger.  

What you paid the most attention to was their smiles. Everyone in the picture looked so happy, all big smiles that seemed to resemble the CEO’s. It felt almost strange seeing how happy Jungkook looked in the picture. You honestly thought he was incapable of smiling. 

It was like a whole different guy was in the picture.

When you looked at the photo that sat on the right, closest to where you stood, you were greeted by a very cinematic shot of Jungkook and who you could only assume was his wife on their wedding day. He had lifted her by her waist and they were lovingly staring into each other’s eyes, again with big smiles plastered on their faces. Jungkook didn’t look too much older than he did in the first picture, and his wife also couldn’t have been much younger than him. It made you wonder how long they had been together. As far as you knew, he was married even before you started working for Golden Tech. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-four, but just based on the picture, he definitely looked younger than that.

They must have really loved each other… You couldn’t imagine being married now, let alone years ago.

But everyone had been right, she really was pretty. How was he married? You couldn’t help but wonder how his wife was able to put up with his pretentious ass. You could barely deal with him and you hardly knew the man. 

You felt for her in that moment.

Furthest from you was a picture you could barely see, but it looked like another picture from their wedding day. Jungkook and his wife in her gorgeous dress were sitting down on a fancy ottoman and a bunch of other people stood around them. Some you could recognize from the Jeon family portrait, so you just assumed all the others must be his wife’s family.

Again, seeing how happy he was in the picture was a little uncanny. There was no way that was the same man who made your life at work so miserable.

Looking at the photos only became more unsettling when the door was bursting open and you were suddenly faced with the actual, present-day Jeon Jungkook. Your eyes immediately snapped onto his, your mind went blank as you tried to process the fact that he was standing there right in front of you. He was stuck in place, he seemed just as surprised to see you in the way his startled expression turned into shock and his wide eyes peered over you. You barely registered the fact that Jimin was standing behind him, too busy trying to calm yourself from a near heart attack. 

It was suddenly so obvious why Jungkook didn’t seem like the same person in the pictures you had just seen. He looked different. It wasn’t only the fact that he looked a little older, but his eyes…

He looked so tired, like he hadn’t slept well in months. The dark circles around his eyes deprived him of that same cheery persona he put on for the camera. And maybe this was just you reading into it too much, but you couldn’t help but think he also just seemed… dismal? It was strange, but if you weren’t trying to be on your best behavior, you would have advised him to take a nap before starting your meeting.

If that wasn’t enough, he was also visibly thinner. Like you could still see a bit of definition as he moved underneath his expensive suit jacket, but his slimmer frame didn’t seem to help and only made him look even more tired.

Your coworkers might have been right; maybe it really was the stress. How hadn’t you ever noticed this before? Had he always looked like this but you just never realized?

“Uh, sorry we’re late. We were stuck in a meeting that went on longer than expected.” Jimin suddenly said, finally breaking the silence and making you snap out of your daze. 

It was only then that you realized you had practically been staring down Jungkook. To be fair, you had never seen him this up close before, at least not close enough to actually look at him. 

You quickly bowed.

“I’m sorry! Secretary Yu told me to wait. I—” You panicked, realizing how strange this might look that you were just standing here right in front of the door.

Your eyes immediately locked onto Jungkook’s waiting for the annoyance to hit his features, any sign to point to the fact that you gave him another reason to hate you, but instead he just seemed dazed. Your eyes tried to follow his gaze wondering what he was staring at, and you were left a little stunned to see him looking over you.

Did he forget you were coming today? What was going on? You glanced down, worried something may have gotten on your dress earlier during lunch and he was about to criticize you for your unprofessionalism, but you were just left confused when you didn’t notice anything, and the silence continued for far too long.

“Ummm…” Jimin looked over at Jungkook when he still hadn’t said anything yet.

You shrugged, just as perplexed as he was.   

When Jungkook still didn’t say anything, Jimin, like the angel he was, eventually took it upon himself to reassure you it was fine and that you had just startled them.

You bowed and apologized once again, your cheeks burned under the weight of their gaze, but Jimin just smiled and told you yet again it was fine. His comforting words and smile eased your beating heart a little more as he ushered you over to Jungkook’s desk. Not wanting to make things any more awkward than they already were, you quickly made your way over to one of the cushiony chairs that sat across from the desk. The whole time you felt their eyes nearly burn a hole in your skull, your skin warmed with each step you took, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you messed this up already. 

You figured Jimin must have finally managed to get Jungkook to snap out of whatever held his attention so deeply, he eventually came back into view and sat in his own fancy office chair in front of you, and Jimin chose to stand right beside him. 

Jungkook awkwardly coughed once everyone got settled trying to fill the silence in the room, maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you swear you saw his cheeks start dusting pink as he looked at you.

This could not be the same demon you’ve worked with for two years. Jungkook could hardly meet your eyes, seemingly trying to look everywhere else but you. He looked visibly flustered and… shy? Who was this man, and what did he do with the Jungkook you thought you knew?

“I’m so sorry, I—… um, sorry we were late. It’s nice to see you Y/n.” He commented softly with a smile. No, there was no way this was the same guy.

After Jimin took a moment to congratulate you on your promotion (he told you to visit his office later for a surprise), the meeting carried on rather uneventfully in regard to your conversation. Jungkook didn’t eat you, nor did you ever need to whip out any of your passive-aggressive responses that you’d practiced. To be honest, you were only halfway paying attention to everything that was being discussed. 

Your brain was far more interested in just observing him, picking apart all the little details you never had the chance to notice in the past: 

He had a mole that sat just underneath his lower lip, and anytime he’d be thinking about what to say next for longer than normal, he’d bite into the flesh and then you could see the little dot right there on full display. He also had a scar on his cheek— you barely noticed it, but when the light hit his face at just the right angle, you could see the indention. Or how come you never realized that he had a slight lisp when he talked? It was slight, only making an appearance if he started rambling for a little too long; you wondered how you’d never noticed it before.

It was quite obvious early on into the meeting that Jungkook was not this scary, evil monster who hid away in his spooky cave. Jungkook would speak, there were moments when Jimin would jump in to help, they easily bounced off of each other, and in between the business talk, they would sometimes joke around with one another. You hated to admit it, but you found them a little cute as you watched them interact.

However, you still noticed that when Jungkook laughed, his smile never looked like the one in any of the pictures that sat behind you. His eyes wouldn’t crinkle, his top lip wouldn’t almost disappear, and that dimple that was on his left cheek never came into view— yes, he had dimples— multiple sets apparently that you had also never noticed.

If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he was faking it, but the one other thing you knew about Jungkook was that he and Jimin had been friends for a long time. Jimin had mentioned to you briefly during the few occasions you’ve talked that he’s known Jungkook since the younger was in elementary school; and it was clear during the meeting that they were close.

The more you looked at him, the more you grew concerned. He definitely seemed… off. It was the same feeling that you’d gotten all those years ago about your friend in high school. His eyes, you just couldn’t get over the look in his eyes. They held the same emptiness that your friend Mi-Sun’s did all those years ago. His hair had grown to almost completely shield his gaze, but you still noticed. 

In the past, his hair would normally be shorter and slicked back with a fresh undercut always on display. It was a few months ago when he seemingly started to grow it out. When he walked in, it was obvious he had been running his hands through it in the way the dark strands were pushed back. Yet as the meeting continued, more and more strands would fall into his face, and he would go back to hiding his sad gaze behind his hair. It almost reminded you of the same look he had that day you spilled coffee all over his suit— even then he seemed tired and sad, but now it was so much more blatant.

It was almost immediately that your harbored hatred for Jeon Jungkook turned into genuine concern. You couldn’t believe this was the same guy who’d have everyone on the floor staying overtime almost every single day.

That didn’t necessarily excuse how petty he acted over the years, you didn’t forget, but it did make you feel bad about how you let your emotions get the best of you. 

The fact that Jungkook was the same age as you and managed everyone that worked on your floor— being associate director of your division’s financial team already seemed daunting— but you couldn’t even fathom the stress that came with his position. 

“Y/n? Did you get all that?” Jimin asked, breaking you out of your daze.

“Yes-yes! I’m sorry.” You stammered, trying your best to recollect yourself. 

“Just wanted to make sure you got everything. We covered a lot.” He laughed, but you were too focused on Jungkook shying away from your gaze— his face was definitely a little redder than before. You tried your best to ignore the way your heart ached at the sight. 

You had to get out of here.

“Thank you so much. I’ll be sure to email you if I have any questions.” You bowed your head slightly at them. 

If things couldn’t get any weirder, when you looked back up at him, you noticed Jungkook was staring at you— again with those same sad eyes. It was on the tip of your tongue to invite him out for dinner, or to tell him that maybe it would be best to take the day off or something— anything to possibly help get back the cheeriness he had in the pictures behind you. But you knew you would be overstepping a boundary, and since you were so new to your position, you felt it was best to not take a chance; so, after a few more awkward goodbyes, you left his office.

“I have to get this done, he has to see that I’m—“ The door shut behind you before you could hear the rest.

Instantly you looked around for your friends, and like they promised, you found them awkwardly standing not too far away from Secretary Yu’s desk trying not to make it obvious they were waiting for you. As soon as they saw you, you knew they wanted to ask how it went, but instead you grabbed Tae by the hand and quickly walked down the hall, ignoring Solmi’s confused remarks as you sped past her.

“Taehyung.” You said alarmingly as you both walked. 

“What happened? Did he start yelling at you or something?” Taehyung questioned very seriously, looking back the way you both had just come from. Apparently, you didn’t respond fast enough because he ended up stopping you both in your tracks. You looked over at him and could see the way his expression had shifted, his face was etched with concern now, and the underlying anger was not hard to pick up on. 

“Y/n, what happened?” He asked far more sternly, grabbing you by the shoulder so you’d look at him. You couldn’t help but glanced down, noticing the way his other hand tightened into a fist.

“What? No— Just… What do you know about Director Jeon?” You quickly followed up with.

You could see the gears turning in his head.

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been here longer than me. What do you know about him?” You asked again, your gaze turned to worry as you looked back toward where Jungkook’s office was.

Taehyung was noticeably confused. “Why, what happened?” 

You sighed. “Nothing, I mean, we just talked but… I don’t know, he just seemed so… sad. It was weird.” 

“Sad?”

“You should have seen him Tae… it was like… I don’t know, he looked so tired.” You were honestly a bit worried. One minute you hated his entire existence, the next you found yourself seriously concerned for his well-being. 

It would be easier to hate him if he didn’t look like a kicked puppy.

The tension quickly faded from Taehyung’s features, he let his hand rest back down at his side and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I was wondering if you knew anything.” You questioned again when he hadn’t said anything, but Taehyung eventually shook his head. 

“I don’t have much to say, he’s always been a pretty quiet guy. I know nothing outside of what he does at the company, and that he’s married to that supermodel. Jimin would probably know, they hang out all the time.” 

You nodded while his words processed in your head. Taehyung was probably right, Jimin was the best person to talk to. You wanted to think there was a chance at the explanation being simple, like maybe he was having a rough day or something, but that didn’t stop you from being worried.

You had a feeling it wasn’t that straightforward.

“Yah, you had me scared for a second.” Taehyung breathed out a shaky laugh. 

“Why? You didn’t think I could handle myself in there?” You chuckled lightly, recalling how serious he got. 

“No, you’re perfectly capable. It was me I was worried about. I thought I was going to have to put my job and freedom on the line.” The way he said it carried that same comical tone, but there was something very serious as well in its implications. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant by that. 

You looked at him wide-eyed for a second, a bit at a loss knowing he’d be willing to go that far for you. Even in the worst-case scenario, you wouldn’t consider losing your job, and certainly not going to jail, over something like that. 

Taehyung returned your gaze and smiled at you, warm and reassuring as always, before you both finally started to hear the hurried clicking of Solmi’s heels making it around the corner. 

“Yah! Why did you guys just leave me?!” 

•────•──────────•────•

Jimin's role at the office made his life more complicated than it needed to be. Besides being Jungkook’s friend, his job also had him working a lot more closely with the younger in comparison to the other executives. He was the associate director to Jungkook’s position, and pretty much handled a lot of the grunt work. He would always step up to his friend’s role whenever Jungkook wasn’t in the building, and he was already in line to take over the next time Jungkook was promoted. Jimin was in great standing in contrast to others around his age, and he would always be eternally grateful to Jungkook and his family for giving him this opportunity. However, balancing the crazy workload Jungkook always asked of him— everyone in the department really, plus just trying his best to be there for his friend, was a task he sometimes questioned if he could manage.

Because of the way he bounced between being by Jungkook’s side and working with managers in the office, he was oftentimes caught in the middle of the drama and heard all the gossip and rumors that would go around. People in the department would complain, and there was some part of him that sympathized with their woes because his friend would really go off the deep end at times with his demands, but there was the other side who was still Jungkook’s friend. Jimin had to deal with Jungkook deteriorating right before his eyes, while simultaneously being subjected to hearing his colleagues badmouthing his friend, who to him, was clearly suffering. Jimin couldn’t even say anything. He was watching his best friend fall apart, and having people say the worst things about him, all without them knowing what he was going through, made it difficult to stand idly by and listen. 

It wasn’t even like he could tell them because even he didn’t truly know what was going on. 

Jimin had cherished the day Jungkook began opening up to him after he started to notice something was wrong. Just as Jungkook seemed to get more comfortable in sharing the issues he was dealing with in his marriage, at the beginning of the year was when those walls came back up thicker, higher, and practically impenetrable. 

Jimin had hoped that it meant things were getting better between him and Yuri, but it was painfully obvious Jungkook was just getting worse and worse as the days went on. You weren’t the only one noticing how much he changed. Jimin was by his side the entire time as he saw firsthand how life continued to drain out of him as the days went by. 

Jimin had seriously tried his best to be there for him, but no matter what, Jungkook continued pushing him away. He would brush off any of his concerns and drown himself— and everyone else around him—  with work.

It was hard to watch.

Jimin could never forget what happened a few weeks ago. He came to work early on Jungkook’s birthday to drop off a gift with the hope to surprise him later when he’d come in, but instead was nearly scared shitless once he opened the door and turned on the lights to find Jungkook passed out at his desk. There was a bottle of vodka and enough empty cans of beer covering the surface to almost shield him from view and encase him in completely.

Jimin had known Jungkook was going to stay overtime the day before, he’d even seen the beer he brought in, but he brushed it off thinking he was simply restocking the mini fridge in his office. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of them to share a drink together after hours, a good beer was always the perfect remedy to wash away their stress. However, it was obvious from the overturned box that he’d drunk the entire pack all by himself, plus the vodka he had no idea Jungkook even had in here. 

That was not it. As Jimin looked around his office, he found another box had been opened, and he wondered if it had fallen off his desk because of the way the cans were sprawled across the floor (definitely less than the twelve that came in the pack). As Jimin steadily got closer, he noticed one of the cans was tipped over beside him, the sticky liquid pooling on his desk, like he’d passed out with the drink still in his hand.

It was a concerning sight to say the least, and nearly gave him a heart attack as he hurriedly rushed over to make sure his friend was ok (alive). His mind raced with the worst thoughts possible as he tried to shake him awake.

Jimin had planned the whole day out to give his friend the best 26th birthday in the history of birthdays. What was supposed to be the start of a celebration turned into a nightmare when Jungkook didn’t immediately wake up. It was honestly a miracle he did. It took some time; it was like the universe itself had slowed down as he waited for something, anything. Tears had welled up in his eyes, Jimin had been so close to calling 119, when in a fit of desperation he slapped Jungkook’s back a little too hard. That was apparently enough to finally get him to stir awake.

“Owwwwww…” Jungkook moaned, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to reach back and rub the spot where it ached.

Jimin had a lot to say, most of which he figured went in one ear and out the other since Jungkook was clearly still drunk. He hated nagging, especially when his friend was out of it like that, but he really had scared him. Jimin pulled him into a hug as he went on and on about how stupid he was.

“Why you soooooo loud?” Jungkook whined, pulling out of Jimin’s arms and laying back down on his desk.

“Because— Jungkook, have you not been listening? Do you know how much you drank?!” Jimin nearly yelled pointing to all the cans and the vodka bottle that practically covered the desk.

“Shhhhh! I ne— have wake up for work later… I’m trying to sleep…” Jimin found it hard to understand him because of the way his words slurred together, like somehow he could understand that.

“Didn’t efen dink much.” Jungkook mumbled, as if it was any other Friday, and Jimin was being overdramatic.

As much as he could have kept the battle going, Jimin made the executive decision that there was no way in hell Jungkook would be able to work today, let alone ride along for his birthday surprise. He was better off trying to sleep this off.

Somehow Jimin was able to get him downstairs, but by the time Jimin was sitting him down in the passenger seat of his car, his arms ached, and his whole body screamed in fatigue. He was stuck carrying Jungkook’s entire weight all the way from his office to the elevators, where he needed to wait for the elevator to go up twenty stories, before going back down those same twenty stories, and then truck through the entire parking garage because his dumbass thought it was best to park in his usual spot, all the way at the far end.

Jimin wanted to be annoyed, he wanted this to just be a one-time thing that they both could laugh about in the future, but there was definitely something wrong. Something was wrong all the time, but there were too many signs for this situation to be passed off as just a “rough night.”

This wasn’t his first time carrying Jungkook. Jimin liked to occasionally pick him up to emphasize “just because you’re taller, doesn’t mean I can’t still swing you around,” mainly to show off his efforts in the gym— but Jimin could tell over the months, years even, that his friend had grown lighter. With the way he needed to carry him, his arm wrapped around his waist, he could really tell just how much thinner he’d gotten. 

And there still was the question of what made him drink so much…

Jimin’s head was swirling with worry as he got in his car, wondering what he should do from here. He’d considered taking Jungkook to the hospital, he had no idea how much he really drank, but the fact he was able to make it downstairs he figured meant he was ok enough to sleep this off, hopefully. 

He sighed and turned over to Jungkook who was already passed out beside him. Jimin reached over to open his suit jacket and fished out the phone in the pocket he’d placed it in. Somehow the facial recognition still worked with Jungkook’s passed-out face, and Jimin was able to pull up his contact list.

Yuri 💞

Jimin rolled his eyes seeing the hearts next to her name knowing how fake that emoji was.

“It’s like we’re a real couple now…” Jungkook had nervously chuckled that day he changed Yuri’s contact in his phone— merely hours before his engagement party.

How Jungkook hadn’t ended up changing it was beyond him. 

Yuri 🖕🏻was more appropriate in his opinion.

Jimin took a deep breath before he hit the call button. Now, Jimin loved using the word hate when it came to Yuri. While he wasn’t aware of all the details of their relationship, Jimin just knew deep down she was the reason for Jungkook’s rapid decline— maybe it’d been her fault he drank so much. 

It took a couple of rings, but Jimin was thoroughly surprised she actually picked up.  

“What—“

“Yuri, it's Jimin.” He was quick to interrupt her.

There was silence over the line for a while, like she was trying to remember who that was.

“Jungkook’s friend… coworker—“

“I know that— what— why do you have his phone?” For a split second, he believed she sounded a little concerned.

“I thought you would know— how did you not notice he didn’t come home last night?” Jimin was seething the more he thought about the possibility that this was somehow connected to Yuri, but he tried his best to keep himself calm for Jungkook’s sake.

“He told me he was working late.” She put it so plainly. 

“And you just let him? You do realize today’s his birthday, right?” Jimin just rolled his eyes as the silence continued on the other line. At the moment, the pieces seemed to click in his head. Was it the fact Yuri clearly forgot his birthday the reason Jungkook practically drowned himself in alcohol?

Maybe… maybe it wasn’t, but maybe it was, and that possibility was enough for him. Jimin had to take a couple of deep breaths to stop himself from screaming at her, but once again, he calmed himself down. Today was not the day for this.

“Anyway, Jungkook got really— really drunk last night, and I’m worried about leaving him alone. If you’re not already there, could you meet me at your apartment and watch over him? I would do it myself but I have work in an hour so—“

“Can’t you just put him on the bed or something? I don’t think he needs a babysitter—“

“Yuri, I don’t think you understand, he’s really—“ But before he could finish, Jimin suddenly turned to see Jungkook hurriedly pushing open the door. He couldn’t even question him before it became obvious that the nausea, which had made the whole journey downstairs that much harder, had finally taken its toll.

Jimin set the phone down and reached over to rub his back lightly. He tried his best to ignore the unpleasant sounds and the dry heaving that went on for a while; his heart ached seeing his friend’s pitiful condition. Things only got worse when it finally seemed to be the end of it, the sounds of soft whimpers started to fill the growing silence. 

“Hyung… I’m so sorry.” Jimin hardly caught it, Jungkook was so quiet and his voice was a little hoarse.

“Jungkook—“

Jungkook sat up and hesitantly faced him. His eyes were red and his cheeks were stained with tears that flowed harder the longer he looked at him.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry.” Jungkook just sobbed. 

“It’s fine, please don’t—“

“This is so fucking embarrassing, I’m so sorry, this is so pathetic, I—I—“ 

“Jungkook, you're not pathetic,” Jimin interjected, trying his best to keep strong.

“Fucking threw up in the parking lot— can’t get much worse.” Jungkook choked out.

“It could be, don’t say that because this could get so much worse.” Jimin had a few ideas, mainly in the fact that he could have been stuck riding in an ambulance worried for his friend’s life. “By the way, are you ok? I was going to take you home, but we can stop by the hospital to make sure you’re ok if you need it.”

Jungkook lazily shook his head. “Just take me back to my office, I have to work—“

It was then that Jimin started the car. “Don’t even think about it, I’m taking you home.” Jimin buckled the both of them in and started making his way out of the garage.

“Can— hyung, can you go slower?” Jungkook mumbled, leaning back in his seat.

“Do you still feel sick?” Jimin grimaced as he briefly worried about his car’s freshly cleaned interior.

“Yeah,” just the mention of the word seemed to make him nauseous all over again. “My head hurts too—“ They finally made it out of the garage, the morning sun quickly filled the car. Like a vampire in disguise, Jungkook groaned and tried to duck away from the rays floating in.

“I’ll be gentle— luckily it’s early enough so there isn’t too much traffic, we should make it to your place soon.”

There was silence for a little while. In the moment, Jimin remembered the fact he’d never hung up the phone with Yuri, but one quick glance down, and he saw she’d left. All he could do was hope she’d be there.

“Hyung, I feel like so much shit.” Jungkook slurred. He’d closed his eyes, hoping it might help ease the nausea or how much his head pounded with every bump or slight turn in the road, but it wasn’t helping at all.

“Mmm I bet, get ready for the worst hangover of your life.” Jimin tried to joke, but all he got was a choked sob in return.

“It’s what I fucking deserve.” Jungkook blubbered as he looked out the window, tears quickly filled his eyes before they started falling uncontrollably. “Can’t make her happy, just want to make her happy! Hyung she’s so miserable, and it’s all my fault!” The breakdown had come out of nowhere, but it had Jungkook in its grasp and had no plans of letting him go.

Jimin had no idea what to do. They’ve had so many talks about it at this point, but Jungkook never went into enough detail for him to ever be able to really help him. Even while drunk, Jungkook seemed to keep the details about what was going through his head locked away, never to see the light of day.

“Jungkook…” Jimin reached over and rested a hand on his thigh.

“Are you ok?” The question lingered in the air in between Jungkook’s sobs. The more Jimin’s question seemed to dawn on him, the more distraught he became.

“And I mean this seriously, like clearly you’re not fine, but are you… fine?” Jimin had hoped he’d answer. A simple ‘no’ would have been a step in the right direction, but he said nothing, letting the tears stream down his face suffice for an actual answer.

“Because if something is wrong, you know you can talk to me, right? Anything, it could be anything that’s on your mind.” Jimin looked over at his friend as they approached a red light, taking a moment to realize just how pitiful he looked. His suit jacket had been thrown in the backseat, his tie was barely hanging on, his face was red and covered with tears, and Jimin had to stop every two seconds to help try and ease the nausea.

“I can’t lie, I’m really worried about you. If something is bothering you, please know you can tell me anything.” Jimin was trying not to get emotional, but he’d never seen Jungkook like this in all the years he’d known him. Ever since she came into his life, everything had gone to shit. He knew all of this was her fault and Jungkook’s decline was too painful to watch. 

Jimin was worried, so fucking worried actually, that he feared every time he’d leave his friend’s side. While all of this could just be ruled as some random drunken breakdown, Jimin knew it was a small window into what was going on inside his friend’s tormented mind.

“Please say you’d tell me Jungkook…” Jimin gently shook his leg, desperately wanting the reassurance that if things were as bad as he feared, that he’d say something. 

When Jungkook’s sobs stopped, Jimin hoped he’d give him an answer, but instead, he watched as Jungkook leaned up, and grabbed onto the dashboard while attempting deep, steady breaths.

“Hyung…” His voice was quiet yet pained. 

“Yes?” All Jimin wanted to know was that he’d say something. 

“Pull—“ A couple more deep breaths “Please pull over…”

It took a second for the words to register. “Wha— why—“

“N-Now!” Jungkook tried to emphasize as he quickly had to put his hand over his mouth.

Luckily for the both of them, there was an opening on the street up ahead. Before Jimin could question it any further, Jungkook was already stumbling out of the car and toward the trash can that was on the street corner.

Jimin never got that reassurance he needed, not that day, or any other day afterward. He wondered if Jungkook had heard him at all.

When Jungkook got back, he was crying all over again about how pathetic he was, the cycle starting anew. But it only took about two minutes before Jungkook passed out once again, and he was asleep until Jimin was shaking him awake when they’d finally made it to his apartment. 

The journey upstairs was just as difficult as going downstairs at Golden Tech. Jungkook had sobered up a little, but Jimin, once again, was stuck carrying him to the elevator. His exhaustion, the nausea, his head, everything really, made it hard for Jungkook to stand. Slowly but surely, they finally made it up to his door.

Jimin had hoped when they arrived that Yuri would be there. He knew, despite his own feelings, how happy it would have made Jungkook at that moment, and it was the least she could do after everything. He wanted to think maybe, just maybe, she’d show up, especially after Jimin had to remind her that it was her husband’s birthday. He hated the fact that he had let a glimmer of hope spark. Deep down he wished that his conversation with her earlier was all just an act to not spoil Jungkook of a surprise waiting for him back at their apartment. Even if that wasn’t the case, he still hoped that she would at least be there. But after Jimin punched in the code and opened the door, the apartment was just as empty as it normally was.

He couldn’t even say that he wasn’t surprised.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Jungkook had somehow found the strength to wiggle out of Jimin’s grasp. Free from his hold, Jimin watched as Jungkook started clumsily wrangling out of his suit jacket Jimin had put back on him earlier. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight and went over to grab Jungkook’s phone out of the jacket pocket.

Yuri had texted since they came up.

‘Sorry, won’t be back ‘till late. Busy.’ It was short, blunt, and to the point.

Yuri wasn’t coming.

Jimin sighed. He didn’t know why he was expecting anything different; she couldn’t even be by his side when he had pneumonia. Maybe it was for the best, he didn’t trust Yuri alone with his friend anyway.

“Hyuuuunnggggg…” Jungkook whined. Jimin finally looked up and noticed he’d stripped all the way down to his boxers.

“Is Yuri coming?” He asked as he flopped onto the couch.

“You know, the bed would be better…” Jimin chuckled lightly before walking over to him. He grabbed the throw that was draped over the couch and fluffed it over him.

“Too far…” He grumbled into the leather.

Mmm, of course.

“Hyung— Yuri…?”

“She said she’s busy.” Jimin tried to maintain a soft smile as he saw the disappointment settle in Jungkook’s eyes.

“Of course she is…” Jimin hated the way he saw Jungkook’s lip quiver. 

“It’s ok, I’ll stay by your side.” Work was out of the picture, Jimin knew better than to leave him alone when he was like this. “You know, I had this whole plan today to celebrate your birthday.” Jimin suddenly remembered he’d left Jungkook’s present back in his office, he forgot to grab it on his way out. “We can bring the celebration here though. I could start it off by making you breakfast—“

Jimin turned around to see Jungkook already fast asleep.

Not much happened that day, Jungkook didn’t wake up until the sun was setting. In that time Jimin had made a quick trip back to the office, both to tell everyone Jungkook was sick and wouldn’t be at work today, and to grab that present he had left.

Jimin went the extra mile with it, hoping the right gift would help put that pep back in his friend’s step. He was honestly very worried about the present as he prepared it, he couldn’t help but wonder if Jungkook would like it as much as he hoped. What he didn’t expect was Jungkook’s teary reaction through his bleary eyes (despite the fact that he’d slept for the last 12 hours), as he peeled back the wrapping paper.

“You used to play all the time back when we were in high school and college, maybe getting back into it would be good for you.” Jimin smiled.

Sitting on Jungkook’s lap was the box of a new, sleek, black, custom-made electric guitar— the exact one Jungkook had told Jimin so many years ago that he wanted to buy when he started earning a good amount of money. 

“This… hyung what I would give to play this, but… Yuri hates it when I’m loud, I don’t think she’ll let me play it.” Despite his words, Jungkook continued to stare at the picture over the box, letting his hand lightly run over it.

Jimin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the mention of that woman, tired of her always coming in the way of everything. “Well fuck her! Don’t let her stop you, she’s not even here right now. Please~ I wanted to see you play before I leave.” Jimin should have been a little more cautious with his words considering who he was talking to, but at the end of the day, he meant every word.

Fuck her!

Jungkook’s face dropped, looking less than pleased.

“Hyung, thank you so much for staying here with me today— and for the present, but maybe it’s best if you leave.” Jungkook suddenly sounded very serious as he spoke.

“Huh? What, why?” Jimin was confused at the sudden change in mood.

“I know how you feel about Yuri, but I don’t appreciate you speaking about my wife like that—“

“But Jungkook, you can’t possibly—“

“Leave hyung! Go— please just go!” Jungkook demanded, looking more pissed than ever.

In the silence that followed, this was when Jimin began getting angry. The longer he stared into Jungkook’s eyes, the more he couldn’t believe this was happening. How could Jungkook be choosing someone who hardly paid him any attention over the person he’s been able to count on and has known since he was in elementary school? 

“I can’t believe you’re fucking kicking me out and sticking up for the bitch who couldn’t even be here with you on your birthday.” Jimin angrily mumbled as he got up to put on his shoes. It was a low blow, Jimin could have phrased it a little differently since he knew he was hitting a sensitive topic. It wasn’t fair to Jungkook, but that was the only thing he regretted.

The silence that settled in the room was painful.

“I swear if you’re not out the door in five fucking seconds, I will end you!” Jungkook said slowly through gritted teeth, giving Jimin a glare that he was sure he would never forget in his life. He’d never seen Jungkook so mad, never thought it was possible to make him that mad, and it was over Yuri? 

Five seconds was too long before he heard Jungkook’s hurried footsteps behind him. It was probably only because of the haze of the hangover still weighing Jungkook down, that Jimin was able to grab his shoes, quickly slam the door behind him, and walk away unscathed.

Things just weren’t the same after that.

How could they be?

It’s like Jungkook was pushing him away, and as much as Jimin tried his fucking best to be there for him, he was only human and feelings got in the way sometimes. He regretted leaving that day, with how things played out, anything could’ve happened considering the way Jungkook had been acting lately.

Jimin seriously thought pushing Jungkook to seek professional help would be enough to bring his best friend back— he’d been ecstatic when Jungkook told him he was finally going to therapy, but it seemed that after the first session, he never went back… at least if he did, Jimin didn’t know about it.

Things were bad, probably worse if he knew the whole story. But that— that is exactly the reason why it pissed him off so much every time his coworkers would complain about Jungkook. How could they not see? It was plain as day that something wasn’t right.

That’s why when you came to his office later for your surprise (he gave you a celebratory bottle of expensive champagne) and asked him about Jungkook, it was like a breath of fresh air.

“Director Park, I hope this isn’t weird to ask, but—” 

“Did you have a question?” He interrupted, fully expecting this to be about your new position. 

“No— well, yes, but everything is clear from the meeting. It’s just—” You played with the bottle in your hands, trying to find the right words. 

“Director Jeon— is he… is he okay?” You seemed genuinely concerned, leaving Jimin too stunned to speak for a second.

See, Jimin didn’t hate you, but he knew— everyone who worked on this floor knew— that you didn’t like Jungkook, at all. Your reasons were a little understandable, considering the way his friend had treated you since you started working here.

Jungkook had no reason to target you because of a mistake you made years ago. Even Jimin had no idea why he was being so petty about it, considering he was normally an easygoing guy. He knew Jungkook didn’t hate you, but he could never pinpoint why he treats you like that. 

“Jimin?” You questioned when he continued to stare at you.

“Yeah, I’m fine… um, you’re asking about Jungkook?”

You nodded. “I don’t know during the meeting… sorry, I might be overstepping, but something just seemed off.”

Jimin continued to stare at you, a little unsure of what to say. He wanted so badly to tell you— honestly, he was just happy you noticed— but…

Even he didn’t know what was going on anymore.

•────•──────────•────•

Jimin never gave you a straight answer. He dodged it entirely actually, not at all calming your nerves about your strange meeting. 

You went home that day with Jungkook on your mind, but not like how he usually was— with you cursing his entire bloodline. No, instead you found yourself wondering what he was doing.

Did he eat today?

Was he sleeping alright? 

Anything to write off today as just a bad day, but as the days turned into weeks in your new position, your concern never lightened up. The more time you spent working closer to him, the more you began seeing all the signs you did back then in high school with Mi-Sun. 

It was like it was happening all over again. It took an attempt for you to fully realize what was happening the last time, but you saw the signs back then just like you did now. Something was wrong, very wrong actually, but every time you met one-on-one, you never found it in yourself to ask him directly how he was doing.

Do you still hate Jeon Jungkook? No, and you hate to say you ever did. Would you whine every time he gave you 15 billion tasks to do in one day? Yes, you did every time. But it was clear he must be dealing with a lot, so you just started keeping your complaints to yourself.

Now nearly a month into getting your new position, you had enough things on your plate to deal with other than whining 24/7 about your workload. 

Today you had to lead a meeting in Director Son’s absence. The drastic drop in temperature had been enough to due him in and he’s been out sick all week. It was at the worst time too, everything was ridiculously hectic because of the holiday season coming up.

Without Director Son here, you were basically the acting director. You’ve been scrambling with all the shit that was being piled into your lap, but you tried to keep a brave face.

This presentation nearly made you collapse. It was a big meeting, and Director Son only gave you a few days to prepare after he let you know he was probably going to be out for a while. But you smashed it, because that’s what you always do. You couldn’t help but smile when you earned a round of applause after you concluded the last slide, and breathed a sigh of relief as soon as everyone slowly started getting up and leaving the meeting room. 

It was finally over…

You went to go pack up your stuff when you suddenly felt someone tap your shoulder. Lo and behold it was him, Head Director Jeon.

“Y/n.” Jungkook seemed nervous as he nodded over at you.

You bowed. “Hope you enjoyed my presentation Director Jeon…” You quickly panicked, worried this conversation was going to be about that.

“Yes, you did great— you always do…” He smiled at you. You were a sucker for compliments, but in the moment, it completely went over your head.

“No, actually this is about tomorrow. Usually, I’d do this with Director Son, but since he’s not here, I was hoping you’d be able to fill in for him.” He seemed even more nervous.

“That’s my job.” You put it matter-of-factly.

“Right, yeah, you’re right.” He chuckled nervously. “Um, tomorrow, as you know, things are pretty crazy these days… I have all these documents to go over for the budget presentation we have coming up for next quarter. Would you be available to stay late with me and go through all the details?”

Oh?

“Of course.” You said not putting much thought into it. You stay late most days anyway.

For some reason, he seemed to tense up even more.

“Good… um… make sure to get a good night's rest; tomorrow might be a long day.” He pointed out.

“Hmm?” 

He already knew what you were going to ask. “This could be an all-night thing… sorry to put you in this position— Director Son and I—“ 

“It’s fine sir. I’ll be there.” You said through gritted teeth, trying your best to force a smile. You didn’t want to be here all night; you were already exhausted as it is and now there was no chance you could agree to any of Solmi’s Halloween plans.

The holiday was tomorrow, and she had wanted to whisk you and Taehyung away to Itaewon for a night full of bar hopping to all the places that were hosting parties in the area. She had pleaded for you to consider it even though you already told her how busy you were. You had honestly been thinking about it, it could have been a night out to de-stress from all that was on your plate, but there goes that opportunity. At least if you didn’t go, you could have been home catching up on sleep, relaxing, anything really but be here. And with Jeon Jungkook?

You regretted saying yes so fast.

“Ok— great… um, again, that was a great presentation. See you tomorrow.” It was an awkward goodbye, but that’s how most of your conversations went, so you didn’t dwell on it.

As the door closed behind him, you took a second to breathe, and enjoy the silence of the meeting room. In that peace, you realized a detail your brain completely skipped over.

You were working overtime with Jungkook. You were going to be alone… together.

Suddenly you felt yourself getting a little nervous. 

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[imtherain]

Be Holding Me

Hey there

Today was lame and my stomach was a POS as it is wont to do, so I threw up about it. Didn’t feel great after (surprise surprise) so I wrote an incredible indulgent fanfic which is 100% a self insert and if you have a problem with that you can fuck right off.

But, yeah, not feeling good, wanted some cuddles, currently in love with Ghost, so here we are.

Warnings: talk about getting sick/losing one’s lunch, very slight mention of blood, Ghost being a chair. No pancakes. idk man I just work here

Anywho

~~~~~

I get sick a lot.

I always say it's my ungrateful stomach, or my useless meat suit. Some days, no matter how nice I am to them, they rebel and I lose my lunch. Or dinner. Or breakfast. It was never fun, but after so many years of this nonsense, I’d grown, unfortunately, used to it.

Today was no different. Something random set me off, a smell maybe. I’d been set off by something as mundane as the air freshener before, even though it was the same one I had always used. It didn’t really matter the why though, only that it happened, and now I was woozy, annoyed with my lot in life, and needing some positive attention.

So I went looking for Ghost.

Anyone else who knew Ghost would think he would be the last person you’d look to for comfort. He was big, intimidating… glared a lot. But under all that big badass energy, he was secretly a softie. Well, maybe not for everyone, but he definitely was for me.

He was on the couch, watching the sports channel when I found him. He glanced up at me, but didn’t say anything. He knew that usually I didn’t want to talk about it, sometimes I didn’t even want to acknowledge it.

I went right up to him and crawled into his lap. He shook his head a little, but adjusted so that there was room for the both of us, and tucked my head under his chin. I hummed, content to be held for a bit.

“I hope you didn’t have to hear all that,” I said.

“Want me to lie to you?” Ghost said.

“Sorry,” I was always embarrassed when someone had to hear the tragedy that was my insides. I knew it wasn’t fun for anyone involved.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” He said. “Need anything?”

“Just this for now,” I told him, nuzzling myself into his neck. I felt him chuckle as his arms held me a little tighter for a moment. If anyone accused Ghost of being nice, he’d call them a liar. 

“Did you drink some water?” He asked. I grunted at him.

“I brushed my teeth,” I offered instead.

“Not the same,” He shifted so he could reach down next to the couch and handed me his water bottle. “Drink,”

“Boo,” I complained but I drank some before resettling against his chest. One of his hands began rubbing up and down my back and I hummed again, closing my eyes. He was warm and everywhere and it was nice.

I could tell he had gone back to watching his game because he started cursing under his breath about a bad call. I smiled though because it was so damn domestic.

“How we feeling?” Ghost’s voice pulled me from the slight doze I’d found myself in. If he wasn’t so comfortable, it wouldn’t have been such a problem to stay awake.

“Like shit,” I told him.

“What can I do about it?” He asked.

“Kill me?” I offered hopefully.

“Negative,” 

“Why not?”

“Too much of a mess,” I snorted at him.

“You’re no fun,” 

“Never said I was,” But he moved to press his forehead into my hair. I always joked that he was like a cat that gave head bonks instead of using his words. I didn’t mind, sometimes words didn’t help anyway.

I bonked him back and I could feel him smile through his balaklava.

“I could always try to fuck you better,” He offered with a smirk even his mask couldn’t hide.

“I don’t know that that’d make me feel any better,” But I was smiling.

“Always makes me feel better,” Another gentle knock of his forehead against me. 

“That’s cuz you’re a slut, Simon,” I shifted slightly to press a kiss to his cloth covered cheek. There was a time that was the closest I got to skin. He moved to pull his mask up to his nose.

“Like I’m going to let you get away with that,” But he was grinning. He held me tighter so I couldn’t escape him as he kissed my face. I laughed and tried to push him away, but he was far stronger than me, and really, I didn’t want to be anywhere else. “Kiss me,” He commanded softly. I rolled my eyes at him.

“I just got sick, you don’t want to be near my mouth,” 

“You’ve kissed me when there’s been blood on my face, and you at least brushed your teeth,” He reminded me. I snorted at him again.

“That was a very different situation,” I said.

“Don’t care,” This time he took matters into his own hands, and by matters, I mean my face. He tipped my head back and covered my mouth with his. For a long moment, there was nothing else in the whole world but his lips on mine. No school or work or groceries to get. No rent or bills or stress. No ungrateful stomach, no useless meatsuit. Just Simon.

And that was more than enough.

[Masterlist]

[More Ghost]

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Do you have any autistic Scout headcanons? :P

Hell yeah!

I’ve actually thought about this a lot. A lot of people might think that Scout has ADHD, but I think he either has both ADHD and autism or just autism.

This is both because labeling Scout as having just ADHD is kind of a low-hanging fruit, and I also want to explore his symptoms a little more. So, in a word, I do, and thank you for asking about them!

*****************

Scout’s Spectrum:

So, where exactly does Scout fall on the autism spectrum?

First of all, he probably has both ADHD and autism, but wasn’t diagnosed with the latter until much later. This means that some of his symptoms were taken into account, but not all.

The ones that were paid attention to ramped up out of control, and the ones he didn’t hear about were stuffed away.

His ADHD symptoms include impulsiveness, need for stimulation, hyperfixations, forgetfulness, and insomnia; his autism symptoms include trouble with social skills, stimming, near inability to remember names and faces, lack of eye contact, hyperfixations again, and sensory processing issues, especially with noise and touch.

He used to have a lot of meltdowns when he was younger, usually about wearing new clothes and the amount of noise his eight brothers generated.

However, he was teased and pushed into masking nearly all the time, and made his whole personality about his ADHD, since that was what everyone accepted.

As he got older, he usually wrote off any autistic tendencies as either his ADHD or just “little habits” of his.

During his middle school years, he used energy drinks to bounce back from being exhausted every day after school. This would work, except those energy drinks would upset his ADHD, and would make it much harder to focus on even basic conversation.

After a while, he got such bad grades and had such a hard time making friends that Scout just stopped going to school altogether.

Baseball helped his focus, and the quick movement and thinking made a lot of sense to him. He never had to wait very long for the next development, and the instant gratification and community it provided supplemented what he never got at school.

With sports on his side, he rarely ever drank any energy drinks (the coach would never let them on the field), and he drank bucketfuls of water during every meet and game. Those teenage years were probably the healthiest he ever was.

However, with the amount of rumbles he got into with his brothers, and the turf wars that constantly raged in those neighborhoods, it was only a matter of time before his crime caught up with him.

After his first incarceration, he was booted from the team, which led to a downward spiral of unhealthy coping mechanisms - which included fighting someone tooth and nail whenever he could.

Even if he lost the fight, it not only catered to his impulsive nature and impatience, but also gave him roughly the same sense of friendship and camaraderie that baseball had.

One thing led to another, and by the time Mann Co. found him, Scout was a monster in hand to hand (and bat to bat) and had racked up quite the criminal record.

A perfect mercenary, ripe for the picking.

On The Team:

Scout very quickly adopted the “stupid, scrappy Boston boy” persona.

It was the only thing that made sense, and it kept him from having to try too hard in both the battlefield and socially.

Besides, that meant that he could be as silly, forgetful, and fidgety as he wanted, and no one would bat an eye.

And if he ever needed to take a break from the team, he figured everyone would appreciate the quiet.

The only thing that ever gave him away was him occasionally dissociating right when battle began, especially if the day had been stressful.

It was usually how he calmed down after a fight when he was young, but now he sometimes slid into that state when he was overwhelmed.

However, a yell from one of his teammates would usually snap him out of it.

Medic noticed this pretty early on, and wanted to look more into it, but Scout would keep making excuses not to get a mental examination.

He would blame it on zoning out, being tired, drinking too many Bonks - whatever it took for people to stop asking.

And, eventually, they did.

Even Medic stopped asking after a while - he couldn’t get a thing out of Scout.

This “try so little that when you do try it’s above average” charade worked for a long time. In fact, it went on for so long that Scout forgot how much he was actually capable of.

He began to internalize the stupidity, the exacerbation, the many comments on how dumb he was, everything.

The only time he ever gave his all was on the battlefield - moving fast, memorizing strategies, doing complicated footwork, knowing exactly how much force it took to crush someone’s skull with his bat.

That was one of the only things that he felt good doing, the only thing he could really work on without him being “found out.”

That and drawing, though he never showed the actual pieces to anyone. It was all stick figures and crooked lines with everyone else.

Sometimes, though, Scout wouldn’t be paying attention and he’d let something slip.

One time, Engineer was looking for his screwdriver, and couldn’t seem to find it anywhere.

Scout, not looking up from his comic, said, “Under the couch cushion, hard hat.”

Engineer bent down and reached into the couch, and his hand came back with his red and yellow striped screwdriver.

“Well I’ll be damned…”

At first Engineer thought Scout had just hid it, but Scout explained, still not paying attention:

“Last time we went out on th’ field, you had it on your belt, like always. But I was walkin’ by your workshop, you were usin’ a quarter to tighten a screw or somethin’. Your screwdriver had to be somewhere between the battlefield and your workshop. Engie, you’re like freakin’ clockwork. Every day, after a fight, you go to the kitchen, get a water, go to that couch, between the second and third cushion from the left, and sit there. Then ya go back to the fridge to get lunch and a beer, and ya go to your workshop until somebody needs you for somethin’. Your back loop in your tool belt is looser than all the others, ‘cause the screwdriver pulls against it when you sit down. The shank was probably in between the two cushions, and when you got up, it fell in. Demo, Pyro, and Heavy all sit on the second or third cushion at some point, so it got shimmied down. And since that’s the only time you sat down, ‘cause you woulda heard it if it dropped on the floor, and I…uh…”

“I’ll be damned,” Engie repeated, and felt the back tool belt loop. It was indeed loose.

Scout finally looked up, and realized what had happened.

“Uh, uh - l-lucky guess, huh Engie?”

Engineer squinted behind his goggles. “Yeah…real lucky…”

What ensued was Engie trying to get Scout to turn into a B.L.U Spy by chasing him around with his wrench. After a few good hits, though, Engineer saw that it was the teammate he knew and loved.

“But…how didja…?”

Scout threw his hand up, the other rubbing the back of his head where he’d been hit.

“I toldja Engie! Lucky guess! Jesus!”

Ever since then, Scout chose his words more carefully.

The Breakdown:

But, unfortunately, Scout could not pretend forever.

There was one week where Scout’s assignment count was so high that, if he wasn’t in a fight, he was on a mission.

Usually, Pauling wouldn’t trust him with so much, but no one else was available - or willing - to do the jobs.

Even when she was getting concerned about the amount of hours Scout was putting in, he blew it off.

“It’s no sweat, Miss Pauling! Their practically givin’ me the pay day. Those yahoos don’t know who they’re messin’ with.”

Over time, though, Scout had a harder and harder time staying focused and alert.

He’d sleep through alarms, stare off into space, zone out completely during briefing (not that he didn’t already do that), have a hard time hearing people in battle - even through his headset - ignore Spy’s taunts, and even forget to bring his bat onto the field.

Nothing seemed to help - Bonk!, warming up, stretching, cold showers, setting reminders, nothing.

And the team was starting to notice.

At first it was with the regular frustration - maybe Scout was just being lazy.

But as time went on, and his condition grew worse, their scorn turned into worry. They implored Medic to do something, but he had no way of getting through to Scout.

The doctor wasn’t above simply sedating him and dragging him into his lab for a check-up. However, he had a feeling that this was more than a physical issue.

The worst came when Scout was doing a routine battle with the B.L.U team on the field.

Everything had started out okay - he even remembered to bring his bad this time - but suddenly, everything was ear-splittingly loud.

He couldn’t focus on more than one sound at once, much less communicate the best course of action to his teammates.

He ended up hiding in a dilapidated shed, in a dusty, dark corner, somewhere between zoning out and panicking.

Scout’s head was in his knees, he was shaking, close to crying, when a sudden splitting of wood roused him.

A B.L.U Soldier had kicked his way into the shed, either having heard Scout or to hide from the other team.

Scout was stunned at first, but something of a blind terror filled him. He picked up his bat, screamed, and started pummeling the surprised Soldier.

At some point, he threw aside his bat and began to swing punch after punch, just like he did in his gang days when he had felt overwhelmed. Still screaming. Still crying.

By the time Scout had dissolved into a rocking, sobbing mess, the Soldier was long dead, with a gigantic pool of blood staining Scout’s shoes.

No one even knew where Scout was until a few hours later, when Spy heard a faint note of “Sexbomb” coming from Scout’s Walkman.

Scout had crawled into the shed’s framework, between the outer and inner wall, and was playing a specific verse over and over and over again, looking like he was on another plane of existence.

Spy immediately called for Medic, who had to lift Scout out by the underarms through a jagged hole in the side of the building. By then, the fight was over, so they could take him directly to the lab.

Medic’s Evaluation:

“I’m guessing zhis is your first mental breakdown?”

“Mental…doc, I ain’t crazy. Wait, you’re not goin’ to put me in a straight jacket, are ya?”

“If you’re not doing anyzhing later.”

Medic started to laugh, but quickly realized this might not be the time.

“No, Scout, everyvun has a mental breakdown at least vunce in their lives. It’s a…how do you say…a vake-up call of sorts. Vhen your body has no other options left.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“For zhe past few months, you health, both physical and mental, has been deteriorating. You eat less. You talk less. Your attacks are lackluster. You have bags under your eyes. You flinch vhen somevun yells for you. You stare off into space. Your routine, vhich usually has at least some changes, has become stringent, as if you can’t possibly expend any more energy into extra activities. You have avoided Demoman on zhe battlefield, even though you usually use him for cover.”

Medic flipped through his notes.

“I have pages and pages of your decline. However, as a scientist, I believe it is caused by zhe same source. And, though I usually respect my patient’s right to privacy vhen it comes to these sorts of matters, I believe you’ve been keeping something from me. Something that I should know as your general practitioner…your doctor.”

Scout shrugged, already shutting out the conversation.

Medic sighed.

“Maybe I tried to talk to you about zhis too soon. After all, you’ve just had a very sudden and exhausting episode. But…perhaps…”

Medic took a sheet of printer paper from his clipboard and a spare pen from his pocket.

“…zhere is an alternative.”

Scout was still unresponsive, but Medic continued.

“Zhere is a patient in my vaiting room vis a metal pole through the chest. It vill take me at least an hour to properly remove it, and a few minutes more to heal zhe area. Vhile I do zhat, vhy don’t you draw how you feel?”

Medic smiled.

“I know how much it grounds you.”

It wasn’t until Medic left that Scout actually picked up the pen, but he began drawing immediately.

For the first time in a while, he wasn’t trying to hide his strokes or scratch up the cleaner lines. No more stick figures. No more pretending.

Five minutes later, he was fully engrossed.

Medic started to walk in at one point, but, seeing how relaxed Scout was, decided to give him a few more minutes.

He deserved it.

[krizaland]

Yandere Zim X Male Reader? There isn't many out there, and I sort of had a song in mind if you would like to listen: Rory by Foxing.

You got it, friend!

Be warned: There are themes of unrequited love, wasps and a graphic depiction of wasp stings ahead!

Here's the song that was used btw

From the moment he met you, Zim found himself captivated by you.

From your gentle eyes to your kind soul, Zim found you utterly fascinating.

You were nothing like any of the other humans! You weren’t ugly, and you didn’t even stink!

You may have been friends with Dib but that didn’t stop you from sticking up for him whenever Dib tried to expose him!

At first, Zim decided to use you as a good source of information as well as a way to keep up appearances without drawing too much attention to himself.

However, the more time he spent with you, Zim started to feel…strange to say the least.

His PAK would spark around you and his squeedilyspooch felt like it was tied up in knots!

“Computer! What are these HORRIBLE feelings inside of me?! What has that Y/N-human done to Zim?!” Zim demanded as he pointed to the ceiling.

“WELL….UM…”

“C’mon spit it out already!”

“WELL IT SEEMS THAT YOU HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE…”

Zim’s jaw hit the ground.

“WHAT?! ME?! IN LOVE?! WITH A HUMAN?! IMPOSSIBLE! Preform a full body bioscan!”

Zim’s computer sighed as a few mechanical tentacles wrapped around Zim.

“SCANNING…SCANNING….”

After a few minutes, the tentacles retracted,

“BIOSCAN COMPLETE. NO ILLNESSES DETECTED.”

“N-No! No! This can’t be! No invader can even experience love! Especially not for the enemy! What am I going to do?! ARGH! Computer! Create an antidote for my love illness!” Zim commanded as he tugged on his antennas.

“UM THERE REALLY ISN’T A CURE…”

“LIES!! Surely there has to be some way to get rid of these HORRIBLE FEELINGS!” Zim wailed dramatically.

“WELL…THERE IS ONE WAY TO GET RID OF THEM..”

“What are you waiting for! Tell me! Tell me the solution!!” Zim demanded as his voice quivered a bit.

“THE ONLY WAY YO GET RID OF YOUR FEELINGS IS TO ASK Y/N OUT..” The computer lied

“WHAT?! YOU WANT ZIM TO DATE THE ENEMY?! ARE YOU INSANE?!”

“Nyeh!”

Zim’s tirade was interrupted by Minimoose.

“Stay out of this, Minimoose! This doesn’t concern you!”

“Nyeh!”

“Aww! It’s sweet that you care about your master but don’t worry, Zim will be fine!”

“Nyeh!”

“Eh?! Ask Y/N out on a date to keep up appearances?! Never! didn’t I already make it clear that was a bad idea?! There’s no way I’d possibly show that kind of weakness to the enemy. But what if…”

Zim hummed for a moment as he stroked his chin.

“I’ve got it! I’ll ask Y/N out on a date to keep up appearances! Yes…I’ll simply use these feelings as a way to appear more normal so I can continue my mission!”

Minimoose was a bit annoyed but happily encouraged his master

“Nyeh!”

“I think you’re cool too, Minimoose! Now then, how to woo Y/N…Maybe one of those love note thingys.” Zim muttered to himself as he begin typing away at his keyboard.

After a few minutes of typing, Zim cracked a wicked smile.

“Excellent! With this loove note there’s no way Y/N could possibly resist my proposal!”

Zim burst into maniacal laughter as he printed the note.

“Now all thats left to do is deliver it!”

“OOOH!! OHHH!!! CAN I BRING THE NOTE TO RACECAR?!!” GIR squealed as he reached for the note.

“No GIR! I’m not going to risk this note getting damaged because of you!” Zim snapped as he snatched away the note.

GIR did like that answer.

He let out a loud shriek and threw himself to the ground.

He begun to kick and cry as loud as his voice chip would let him.

“ENOUGH! You may deliver the note to Y/N!” Zim grumbled as he held out the note.

“YAY!!!!!!!”

And with that, GIR grabbed the note with his mouth and flew off with it.

“Ugh, I better make sure GIR doesn’t ruin all of my hard work.” Zim huffed as he threw on his disguise and followed after GIR.

It wasn’t long before GIR managed to find you.

You were sitting on a bench in the park next to Dib, who seemed nervous about something.

“Dib? Are you ok? You’re acting kinda…twitchy”

“Twitchy? I’m not twitchy! Heh! It’s just um…the air! Yeah the air is really cold today!” Dib lied as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Dib it’s almost June. It’s like 88 degrees out here. What’s really going on?” You pressed as you gave Dib a sympathetic look.

Dib looked down at his feet and took in a deep breath.

“Ok, I’ll tell you but you have to promise you won’t be grossed out by me.”

“Dib, you’re my best friend! Not even hunting the most disgusting cryptid can make me grossed out by you!” You reassured with a chuckle.

Dib took in another deep breath as he turned to face you

“Y/N, I know we’ve been friends for like a really long time now and….well….”

“Well what?”

Dib swallowed thickly as he tugged at his shirt collar

“I think I might want to be more than friends!”

Dib’s words flew out a mile a minute before he clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Wait?! Are you serious?!” Your eyes lit up a bit.

“Gah! I knew this was a bad idea! Just forget I said anything!” Dib whimpered as he buried his face in his hands.

“No no! I’m actually really happy you told me that, Dib! Because…I want to be more than friends too!” You reassured as you put a hand on his shoulder.

Dib looked up at you and blinked in shock.

“Wait? Really?”

“Yes really! I’ve actually been wanting to ask you out for a while but I wasn’t sure if you felt the same.” You admitted sheepishly as you rubbed the back of your head.

“What?! You had feelings for me this whole time?! And you didn’t even- You know what? Who cares? All that matters is that we both feel the same about each other! Right?” Dib still seemed a bit skeptical.

“Exactly! That’s the spirit!” You cheered as you threw your arms in the air, smacking poor GIR out of the sky.

THUMP!

SPLOOSH!

GIR fell face first into a puddle, soaking Zim’s love note.

However it wouldn’t have mattered whether or not the love note was in tact. For Zim had witness the entire exchange between you and Dib and was devastated.

He let out a pained chuckle as he grabbed the soggy note from GIR’s mouth.

Zim was about to confront Dib when-

BONK!

THUMP!

Zim had walked right into s tree, causing a wasp nest to fall right on his head.

Zim let out a blood curdling scream as the wasps begun to attack him from all directions!

Soon he began to run amok, with more wasps trailing behind him!

It wasn’t long before Zim managed to make it back to his base.

Two robotic arms came down from the ceiling,

POP!

They pulled the wasp nest off of Zim’s head and chucked it out into the front yard.

Zim let out a pained groan as his grotesquely swollen face throbbed with wasp venom and glowing green pus.

The robotic arms carefully peeled off Zim’s disguise and another arm carried him down to his lab.

After a refreshing chemical shower, Zim’s face had returned to normal!

However, while his face had healed, his feelings were still in shambles.

He picked up the note and went back up to the kitchen.

Zim sunk to his knees as he shakily held the soggy note in his hands.

“I wrote you a letter, asked my robot to send it but it took to the sea before you could’ve read it…”

Zim’s grip tightened on the note as a few tears trickled down his cheeks.

“Retreated to snow capped waters of the unknown. Extracted my soul straight from my body! but glowing and red…And I swear that sweat would envelop your arms if you broke down and held it!”

“I swear I’m a good man-“ -Zim took in a heavy breath- “-I swear I’m a good man…”

Zim sniffled a bit,

“So why don’t you love me back?”

He looked down at the note in his hands.

“So why don’t you love me back?”

Zim let out a deep growl as he chucked the soggy note into the window.

“Instead of twisting up words you just say there in silence! In wind burnt homes sighing rays from a sunset!”

Zim rose to his feet and stormed towards the window.

As he peeled the soggy note off the window, he couldn’t help but notice that the wasp nest was still in the front yard.

“And all I could hear was the sound of the wasp nest, my head made a home for the hum of the insects!”

Zim took another glance down at the soggy note he had peeled off the window.

“But my hands shake and shudder at the mention of half written reasons we’ll only be friends!”

Zim’s fist curled around the note and punched the window.

“I swear I’m a good man…. I swear I’m a good man…”

Zim squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sob

“So why don’t you love me back?”

His hand slid down the window.

“So why don’t you love me back?!”

Zim threw the soggy note to the ground and stomped on it

“So why don’t you love me back?!”

He threw his head to the ceiling and shrieked

“So why don’t you love me back?!”

He clutched the sides of his head and wailed his plea once again,

“So why don’t you love me back?!”

Zim melted back down to his knees.

“So why don’t you love me back….”

A louder sob racked his body as Zim felt his world crash down around him.

How humiliating.

He was Irk’s finest invader! How could he be so wounded by one pitiful human?!

No, pitiful wasn’t the right word to describe you. In truth, Zim felt that handsome was a better fit.

Despite how devastated he was, Zim still couldn’t stop wanting you.

The need for your love sparked a fire deep within him.

The fire burned violently throughout Zim’s body! Pulling him out of his depression and making him more confident than ever!

Zim wanted you for some much more than appearances!

He wanted you to be his and his alone!

By taking you away from him, Dib had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Zim let out a thunderous maniacal laugh as he raised his hands to the ceiling!

He put his disguise back on, grabbed a blaster, and hopped into his Voot.

“Prepare yourself, foolish Dib-monkey! I am coming to reclaim what’s rightfully mine! You shall rue the day you took Y/N away from Zim!”

[wyomwyom]

27 years old letter

Find it on ao3 here

Dadspy sprinkled with some Sniperspy

Edited by: @radiostaticc

Sniper was of course not the biggest fan for loud parties, but the kid is now 30, which he guess would make Scout not really a kid anymore, but who cares? He was the kid among them and shall stay forever. The little ankle biter who loved loud noises way too much, while alcohol not at all.

While most of the others were having fun being as drunk as one can get, Scout was at the table of gifts with his can of Bonk. Maybe it was how he sometimes did the same things, or maybe he spent too much time with his boyfriend, Spy. But Sniper noticed nervous movements on the Scout. Adjusting his clothes, like they never fit right; drumming on the can with one finger; briefly hugging himself with one arm. The kid was nervous to the brim and Sniper seemingly being the only one to notice, he decided to do something about it.

He walked up to Scout and put a hand on his shoulder, before greeting him, starting simple and kind.

"Staying out of the party? Your age is catching up to you kid?" he joked with a chuckle, relieved to see the other smile from it, but it didn't last long "What's wrong Scout?" he asked, low so it won't cause attention and not hide his worry. The fast runner got more nervous from the question. Chewing on his lips, looking around in fear that anyone else noticed, before giving in with a sigh.

"Can we go to one of your nests? I need air and privacy." he admitted.

"Sure kid, and don't worry. From the look of it, nobody will notice." Sniper said as they walked towards the front door of the base.

"Dear Jeremy,

When they reached the nest, Sniper gave the other time to say the problem. He was known for his patience and not many questions. So he waited. He watched as Scout finished his can of Bonk, tapped his foot on the wooden surface of the nest while getting his thoughts together and he waited as the problem was taken out.

Scout took out an envelope folded in half, looked at it for a little, before holding out for Sniper.

"My mom gave me this when I left home. Said dad wrote it to me when he left and I can read it when I turn 30. Problem is... I-I can't read. Doc said it's a normal dyswhat-the-hell. But I'm sure my da' didn’t know it was a thing I have when he wrote it. And just-"

"Would you like if I read it to ya?" Sniper cut in gently, grabbing the letter, but not yet taking it. Not until Scout released it and nodded as a silent answer. The envelope was already opened, so Sniper just had to take out the letter, unfold it and read it:

You're now old enough to maturely hear what I'm about to say. And old enough to be the age I was when I left you, your brothers, and your mother. I wanted you to have this letter at this age, so you can know how young and stupid a man can be in the age of 30. I also hope that you won't make the same mistakes by reading this and learning from mine.

When I met your mother and she boldly came up to talk to me, I knew that if a nobody like me can fall in love and not be alone in the feeling, then I should never let it go. But then I had to.

She never judged me and I never judged her for anything. She loved me the same way when I had to disappear for long times and I loved her the same way when she introduced me to her 7 sons.

Now before I say the next thing, I want you to know that you are not and never were the reason why I left you and your family. You were the brightest light in my life and still are, no matter where life takes us both.

These almost three years I could spend with you mean so much to me and it hurts so much that I had to leave. But my love for your family and you blinded me about how dangerous a job I actually had that put the bread on the table for the ten of us. I knew the moment when I received a letter with only your name on it, that I had to leave. I don't expect you to understand, or accept my choice. But I wanted nothing more than you to be safe. I made the worst choices in life, but loving my family was not something I could control. Your mother is the strongest woman this world has seen, so I know I'm going to leave you in good hands. She will protect and care for you, like I never could.

You can trust her in anything. I know, because I'm trusting her to keep the things she knows about me secret and give this letter to you when she knows it's time to face the truth of whatever lie she came up with. The truth of which is that I left to protect you and I still will always be with you. In the crowds, in the background, maybe even right next to you.

I'm going to do my best to keep you as close, but still as far to make sure you're safe and happy. Because that's what you deserve. You can say I'm an asshole and a coward, which you are right about. I was a coward for choosing running instead of fighting, but I know at this moment of writing this in your room, that I'm making a mistake. So I want you to learn from it. Love is the most dangerous thing a man can face and if you ever find it, please fight for it. Fight for the person, or people you love and they will fight for you if they're the right people for you. I didn't fight enough for you and your family. Which is why I could never ask for your forgiveness. All I can ask for is for you to never give up and know that you deserve to be loved.

Happy birthday Jeremy

With all the love from your dad"

Sniper had his own small pain in his chest by the time he finished, but it was nothing compared to the sobs he heard and saw when he looked up. He put the letter to the side and moved closer to hold the kid in a tight embrace. He was never a fancy pants, he couldn’t give two shits about Scout ruining his clothes, so he pulled the sobbing man close to his chest and let him cry his heart out. He deserved it. Even if Scout read, he couldn't imagine being alone after such a letter like this.

"Th-ank y-ou..." the boy hiccuped, before burying his face into the red shirt, trying to take deep breaths after feeling a hand caressing his back. "Freak-king asshole dad..." he tried to talk again with a little chuckle, but couldn't say more. So he leant his head against Sniper comfortably, the crying slowly calming down and soft snores taking its place.

With one hand, the sharpshooter put the letter back into the envelope and put it into his pocket before lifting up the kid bridal-style and carefully carried him down. He was happy to discover that the base was now quiet. Inside some retreated into their rooms, while others were sleeping in the living room. He walked towards Scout's room, pretending he didn't hear the extra pair of shoes failing to walk silently after them. After putting the kid into his bed, he put the envelope on the bedside table.

"Happy Birthday Scout." he whispered a last time, before leaving the room, closing the door after himself. "Come 'ere Spook." he said to the air, opening his arms.

"Merde." Spy whispered annoyedly for being found out, but still uncloaked and leaned into his partner's arms. "Bushman, I-'' he started worriedly, but got cut off by a kiss on his head

"I know Spook, I know. I love you too. You won't get away from me that easily." he comforted with a chuckle

"Liar..." Spy said, knowing Sniper too well to believe that anxiety is not eating him up about the letter and what he said about Scout's mom in it. He heard a sigh, before his head was lifted, so his lips could receive a gentle kiss.

"What if you take me to bed and show me just how much you love me then?"

"Sounds good, mon chasseur."

[yelenasdog]

it was a pleasure to burn (spencer reid x fem bau!reader)

genre: fluff i think even though the name is v angsty LOL it’s a literal screenplay with the amout of dialogue i wrote LMAO so idk

summary: a particularly rough and disturbing case gets to reader, and spencer and reader are brought together by this.

words: just about 6k (my longest fic ahhHH)

warnings: typical criminal minds gore and violence just up a notch, they get on a plane at the end, somebody gets ~shot~, somebody gets ~bonked~, cursing, mentions of reid’s addiction, and i think that’s it. also the reader wears reading glasses but that’s the only predetermined factor of appearance. btw i don’t think i used any pronouns in this but i apologize if i’m wrong. 

a/n: LMFAO i was outside awhile ago celebrating litha with a nice lil hike and i saw a butterfly and i had just started watching cm and was like hMMm... killer who’s obsessed with symmetry??!1??!? y Es. enjoy 😼 EDIT: THERE IS SO MANY PLOT HOLES OMG FBREHJBFHEJFRE IM RBFBRE

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“Aren’t they just stunning?” The unsub spoke, keeping her eyes trained on the butterfly sitting happily on her finger. The brightly colored creature fluttered off her hand that was dripping scarlet, flying around her curly head of brown hair. Her, formerly white, blood-stained dress flowed around her as she followed it, watching in awe as it soared about. She giggled, plopping down on the grass in the middle of a circle of her victim’s pale, lifeless bodies, all of them with ironically morbid butterflies resting upon the frail skin of the corpses.

“Aren’t they, agents?”

She slanted her green eyes, gripping the grass a little harder. I flicked my tongue over my lips nervously, looking over to the lanky man on my left. He simply shrugged, just about as sure of how to handle the situation just as much as I was.

“If I knew you all were coming, I would have cleaned up, I really would have, I promise.”

We slowly walked towards her, twigs and leaves crunching under our feet. It could have been comparable to a hunter stalking its prey, but it unfortunately was quite the opposite.

6 days earlier, Quantico, Virginia

“3 bodies, all found within the last 48 hours in rural New York. So far, the first body has revealed that although it was dumped upstate, the victim was murdered in the city, and the same most likely goes for the other bodies as well. Nails well manicured, no drugs in the system. They aren't junkies, we’re dealing with upper class citizens.”

My face contorted as I took the photos from Reid’s hands, his large and tanned one surprising me by how soft it felt as it accidentally brushed against mine. I blushed like a madman, looking to see him doing the same thing. I cleared my throat getting Rossi’s attention.

“Why are we only now hearing of this?” I questioned, flipping through the images as I did so, my confusion only growing. I didn’t recieve an answer, leaving my curiosity to bloom.

“Wait, how did you say they were killed again?”

Morgan looked up, taking the photos from me. “He didn’t.”

I sighed, pushing my glasses up on my nose.

“Is there at least any correlation between the bodies and the butterflies?”

Our attention was shifted to JJ, the resident expert on the insects.

“Actually, the ones being found with the bodies are from the Amarynthis family, all native to Latin America. They weren’t there by accident so yes, they’re somehow related.”

Rossi stood up, grabbing his coat.

“Well, none of this is nearly enough for a profile, so pack your bags and tell the others, wheels up in an hour. We’re headed to New York.”

4 days earlier, F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York

“The final report from the latest victim is in, all the autopsies are clean. They show no signs of struggles, no marks, no blood, no anything. The eyes weren’t bloodshot, so suffocation is ruled out, and that was our best bet.”

I sighed, sliding the case file across the glass table to Spence as I took my seat, sinking into it and allowing myself to be consumed by its warmth.

“So what your saying is that we’re back at square one.”

I looked up at Hotch from where I sat, running my hand through my ponytail.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”

Just then, the young Doctor spoke up as he flipped through the pages.

“The eyes weren’t just not bloodshot, there was barely any blood left in any of the victims bodies, only about 3% of the volume left. The killer drained them.”

Morgan gave me a shocked expression, silently asking for an explanation.

“Which you failed to mention, Y/n.” Aaron spoke, agitation once again present in his voice.

I looked at the ceiling, crossing my arms in front of me before turning to face Hotch once more.

“Yeah, well, I thought it was obvious when I said no blood.” I stuttered out cautiously.

“On the bodies! Not in the bodies!” Morgan exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in what was in my opinion, very childish. Everyone else in the room aside from Spencer was either shaking their heads or pinching the bridge of their noses, and reasonably so.

“Look, I’m sorry I just didn’t see it in the report, plus, In the scheme of things, it just doesn’t seem to matter.”

I soon regretted my words, realizing how ill-fit they were for the current conversation I was having. Spencer looked up, tilting his head.

“Doesn’t seem to matter? How? There’s an endless amount of possibilities now that we know this. If we had known it sooner we probably could have figured out the pattern and caught the one doing this!” He harshly spewed, his voice acting like a crescendo of sorts, quiet and calm and moving towards a loud and violent tone. Tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes and I was starting to feel guilty, not to mention absolutely stupid as could be.

“I’m- I really am sorry guys, truly.”

Hotch locked eyes with me, taking a stern tone that one would usually take with a disobedient child, perhaps even Jack.

“I hope that’s a comfort to you when another body shows up. That’s their blood on your hands.”

I was frozen, the gravity of the situation taking its toll.

In the background I heard him say something to Morgan about a new profile having to be made as there were many new things to be known from this revelation. But it all went in one ear and out the other, just unpleasant white noise.

As I clumsily stumbled out of the room, I felt Reid’s eyes burning holes into the back of my brain. I was quick to turn my head to meet his glance, causing him to look down. I felt bad, the weight on my chest growing heavier from the interaction.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and immediately going to google. I typed in “hypnosis” and let the info trickle in.

About 30 minutes later, I still felt absolutely horrible, but I had also put together a valuable profile in the time that had passed. I shut the newly finished file, blowing an abandoned strand of hair out from my eyes. I had to do a double take when I saw Spencer staring once more, his deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I gave him a small smile before standing up and walking to Hotch’s makeshift New York office. I pushed open the heavy door, placing the folder on his too-clean desk.

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it in his hands.

“My theory about the unsub. I think I know what she’s been doing. You can tell the team if you want, I’m not sure if they would wanna hear it from me. ”

He gave a small smile, pushing the file back over to me.

“You get the team together and I’ll get the local PD caught up. You tell them yourself.”

A few minutes later, everyone except for Reid had gathered in the meeting room. I peeked through the half closed blinds that allowed a line of vision to his desk in an attempt to locate him. He was positioned there, staring blankly at his laptop that appeared to have nothing on the screen. I knocked on the window lightly to catch his attention, his glazed over eyes looking in my direction. I tilted my head at him, silently beckoning him to join me. He only shook his in response, shaggy brown locks swaying back and forth. I sighed, frowning at his action. I turned to the group, clasping my hands in front of me.

“Everyone, this will just be a second if you’ll excuse me.”

With a raised eyebrow from Hotchner and a jab in the direction of Spencer’s workspace, I swiftly walked out of the crowded room.

“Spence, care to join us?” I asked, resting one of my hands against my hip, the other on his orderly desk.

“No, I don’t think I will. I need to try to figure this out before she finds her next victim.”

“What makes you think the unsub is a she?” I searched his eyes that had seemingly become brighter at my piqued interest in his hypothesis.

“Well, the unsub seems to be obsessed with symmetry, all the bodies being found in obscure yet symmetrical positions. This could suggest she had some sort of deep rooted insecurity, possibly from some sort of bullying from growing up in a small town where she was looked at as a superior for subpar looks. She moved to the big city, expecting a big break. Instead she was shunned for being less than average. She grew frustrated and as a result, she began her killing spree. The stresser could have been one too many insults that made her snap. Plus, that would account for the butterflies left on the scenes that are used in modern examples of both femininity and symmetry.”

I smiled widely at his words.

“What- why are you smiling, what are you smiling at?”

I tapped his desk, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I headed back towards the conference room, looking over my shoulder.

“Because, I’m glad we’re on the same page, Dr.”

——————

“So, our girl, as Dr. Reid has explained to us, is obsessed with her appearance. She’s an organized killer, no mistakes and no signs of blood or anything of the sort on scene. She has practice, she does this sort of thing every day. She is most likely in the age group of 23-30, and has a job in the cosmetic industry, our guess is in plastic surgery. She probably volunteers weekends at local butterfly sanctuaries or zoos, finding comfort in their perfection that those in her life, or formerly in her life, cannot and could not provide.”

“Which would explain to her easy access to non-native species of the insects. She has an absolute infatuation with symmetry, which yet again, links the butterflies on the crime scene to her MO.”

Spencer and I were vividly explaining our shared theory to the team, as well as local law enforcement. He was excited by his discovery and the lead on the killer, and his energy was contagious.

“She kills without remorse and out of jealousy, picking victims who all have one thing in common.”

Spence pointed to all of the images pasted on the board in the center of the room, all of them split in half and reflected, creating a perfect mirrored portrait.

“They all have perfectly symmetrical faces, as well as strong jawlines and high cheekbones. As most of these victims are models or those searching to start a modeling career, we believe she is luring them in with a photographer trope, promising to make their dreams come true.”

I nodded, taking a moment to study Reid’s own sharp yet somehow soft features. I allowed my eyes to wander over his sunken in, kind, and curious eyes; his pillowy pink lips that are in dire need of some chapstick.

“Agent?”

I turned my head, snapped back to reality by Rossi calling my name.

I gave a tight and quick smile, returning to the topic at hand and tactics to catch the unsub. But of course not before Emily gave me a crooked smile, resulting in me rolling my eyes.

“Physically, she’s nothing special, most likely a mundane appearance or one with quite obvious surgical changes. No in between. Check all of the plastic surgeon offices in the area for both employees who fit our description, as well as a patient who has gotten any serious facial mod operations. Do the same for any weekend volunteers at local zoos and animal sanctuaries, specifically working with any insects.”

It was an NYPD officer then that spoke up this time, raising her hand briefly.

“But, you still haven’t mentioned how she’s killing them?”

“Hypnosis.” Reid and I both spoke at the same time. He looked to his black Converse, sliding his hands into his pockets. I observed the room and all of the skeptical faces filling it.

“Even if it may sound far fetched, we saw no signs of anything that indicated a struggle or even any marks or wounds. This led us to believe that some form of hypnosis was used to allow her an easy kill. This means extra caution will have to be taken when actually handling the unsub. Even though we’re positive she’s using hypnosis, which method she is using to actually kill them after the fact is what we’re unsure of.”

I turned to Spencer, handing off the explanation to him.

“We think that because of her whole thing with symmetry, she wouldn’t want to disturb the natural state of the victims and their faces, even if she would do the same to her own.”

“Which means?” JJ asked, her blue eyes slanted and glossed lips left ajar.

“It means that the unsub wouldn’t want to leave any large marks like stab or gunshot wounds.” I nodded at Prentiss, who had made the assumption, confirming she was correct.

“With her presumed background in plastic surgery, we believe she was able to make small incisions that made no visible scars. We’re having the coroner look back over the bodies as we speak.”

“She drains the body’s blood 97% of the way before closing the holes up. What she does with the blood, we don’t know. Another Eddie Mays, perhaps.”

I looked over to Spencer, raising my brows at his comparison. He was quick to defend himself, shaking his hands left to right and mouthing “No” while simultaneously shaking his head the same way, something he seemed to be doing often as of late.

After we had finished consulting with any officers who had remaining questions, we branched off to conduct our own routine investigations. We found that the only thing they all had in common apart from the symmetrical faces, is that they all had visited the Central Park Zoo in the 24 hours before they were killed. We received a phone call from Garcia not long after we put together those pieces, being alerted that there was one girl who had, in her words, “Hit every mark there was to hit, sunshine.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

“Her name is Alessia Copelas, she works weekdays as a surgeon's assistant at Premier Cosmetic, and weekends at Central Park Zoo from 4-8 p.m.”

I smiled at the new info from the blonde bombshell known as Penelope, turning to Reid who was still looking at me quizzically.

“Alright, thanks babes, you’re the best.” I spoke into the phone, a comical “Mwah!” made from either side as we hung up.

He shook his head, keeping the odd look on his face.

“I swear, you guys have a weirder relationship than her and Morgan.”

I laughed, sliding my phone into my back pocket.

“Oh, please, Spence.” I gingerly placed a hand on his cheek, patting it twice.

“You’re just jealous.” I made a pouty face, letting my hand linger before walking off. “Come on, we’re going on a field trip.”

“Where to?” He asked, gripping the door frame, using it as leverage to swing himself closer to me. He took long and quick strides, catching up to me in no time.

“You like animals, right?”

———————

4 Days Earlier, Central Park Zoo, New York

As soon as we entered the zoo, our ears were filled with the sounds of the loud screeches of birds and monkeys alike. Reid covered his ears, cringing and making his displeasure known with an “Ahh!”

I smiled at his geeky behavior, admiring the animals in the enclosures. I paid special attention to a particularly impressive species of tarantula, leaning down to admire them. A few moments later I looked to my left and saw Spencer doing the same thing.

“Did you know that arachnids have asthma which is why they don’t run for extended periods of time, similarly to cheetahs?”

“Yes I did.”

His face scrunched up in an adorable manner, causing an involuntary giggle to fall past my lips.

“Well did you know that-“

“Ma’am?”

I turned to see a young woman with flaming red hair and a freckled face smiling at me, her green collared uniform top complimenting her eyes of a different shade wonderfully.

“Oh, hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

Her expression shifted to a more confused one, her smile not leaving her face.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Is there an Alessia Copelas that works here, maybe volunteers on the weekends?” Spencer asked, his puppy dog eyes immediately warranting a response.

“Yeah, she volunteers here, she seems nice. Is she helping with an investigation?”

“Well we think that she may have some part in a series of murders.”

Her smile disappeared this time, turning into a cement frown as panic flooded her body.

“Oh God, was she- Is she a killer? Have I been working with a killer for all this time? I mean, I never had any shifts with her but from what I heard I thought she was so sweet-“

“Look,”

Reid glanced down to her name tag that read “Lillian” before meeting her eyes. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, a nervous habit of his I’d picked up on.

“Lillian, we aren’t sure if she’s the killer we just needed to get a feel on her and get some information regarding her personal life.”

She started frantically nodding her head, more trying to convince herself she was okay rather than ourselves. I looked over her shoulder at some exhibits, thinking to myself how this would end up being a waste of our time if this poor girl couldn’t get a grip on herself.

I was soon proven wrong when I looked over to see a young girl wearing an identical uniform to Lillian, probably somewhere between 23 and 24. She had untamed chocolate locks with bangs that stopped just above the shoulder, blemishes covering her T-Zone, and a rounded face to go with it.

The cherry on top? Under her arm she carried a small enclosure with what appeared to be amarynthis meneria, the same butterflies found on the victims.

I tapped Reid on the shoulder once as discreetly as possible, catching his attention. I heard him mutter a small “Oh God” before he told Lillian to walk away calmly and quickly. She ignored his request, turning to look at Alessia, letting out a blood curdling scream and sprinting the other direction.

“Shit.” I cursed, beginning to walk towards Alessia, Spencer by my side. I smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. Reid spoke up as we got closer.

“Hello, do you by any chance-“

wham!

“Spence!” I exclaimed, reaching down to help him up from where he had fallen from being whacked by the 4’2 pyscho that was Alessia Copelas.

“Did she get away?”

I turned to see her gone, the only sign she was even here being the forming bruise on the Dr’s face.

“Yeah. She did. I’m sorry, Reid, that was really stupid of me.” He shook his head, running his own hand over the raw skin.

“It’s fine, I would have done the same for you.” He looked up, and I wasn’t sure if it was my school-girl esque crush on him or the fact I just had another experience with a serial killer, but my heart was racing nonetheless.

————————

F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York, 1 Day Earlier

The stress levels in the room were high.

Despite our best efforts, several more bodies had been found, New York’s narcissists were in a state of panic, and the spirits of the BAU were down to say the least.

“What? Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed, looking at Hotch in disbelief.

He rolled his chocolate eyes, fanning the folder containing the new information we had gathered on Alessia.

“I wish I was, Y/n. She’s off the grid completely, her apartment is empty, phone and credit cards have been deactivated, and the surgeon’s office hasn’t heard from her for 5 days. And the media has decided to give her the name ‘Butterfly Baron’, so she’s probably been fueled even further. We need a new lead before she strikes again.”

I scoffed, standing up and pushing my chair away.

“This is unbelievable. How many times do we have to reinforce the idea to local PD! Especially when the unsub is a self absorbed psycho, do not give them a name! God, I really cannot fathom this.”

I reached up, letting my hair down from where I had messily thrown it up upon my arrival to work that morning.

I stormed out of the room, my heels clicking behind me. I ignored Hotch’s calling of my name, making my way to the closest restroom.

I went in, locking the door behind him. I ran my hands through my roots, tugging just enough to where it hurt.

Turning the water to the left all the way, I splashed it from the stream leaving the faucet on to my face. I scratched my fingernails against the skin, wiping away the tears that had escaped.

“This is all your fault, y/n.” I whispered at myself in the mirror, doing my absolute best to engrain the message in my brain. I had my head hung in shame when a knock rang out.

“Y/n?”

It was Spencer. My mind started going a million miles a minute, thinking about why he could be there. With my voice raised a few octaves, I tried to scrape up a response.

“I’ll be out in a few, Spence.”

It was quiet for a split second, leaving me to foolishly dance around the idea that he had left me to wallow in my sorrowful thoughts.

“Y/n, Hotch wanted me to check on you. Are you ok?”

My heart slightly sank at the idea that he might’ve just come to check on me because he himself was worried. I discarded the thought, bringing myself back.

“Y/n can you please answer me? If you don’t open the door I’m gonna send in JJ or Emily.”

I sighed, wiping under my eyes where my mascara had smudged, begrudgingly walking over to the door. Just as my hand landed on the silver handle, his voice that was constantly playing in my head echoed out once more.

“Y/n, please? I need to know you’re okay. I’ll come in there myself.”

A soft smirk graced my face as I turned the handle to reveal a worried looking Spencer.

“Y/n, oh God, you had me worried.”

He was quiet when he spoke and his hair looked messy, like he had been running his slender fingers through it in a stress filled state.

I sniffled, attempting to still keep back tears that were still threatening to spill.

“I’m alright, Spencer. Really, I’m fine.”

He gave me a small smile, his eyes meeting my own.

“I know, it’s just that when I had my Diludad problem,” he hesitated.

“I would lock myself in bathrooms to shoot up, and I know you aren’t having a problem like that but I just was worried about you- what are you doing?”

I cut off his rambling by throwing my arms around his middle. He tensed, but quickly melted. He wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and my waist, laying his head on mine.

“Y/n, I promise you, you’re doing your absolute best to stop Alessia. We wouldn’t even be where we are right now if you hadn’t made the connections. Those deaths are not your fault.”

My tears finally began to cascade like a waterfall, staining his shirt.

“I know, but it’s just like it is all my fault! I could have paid closer attention, or-or, I could have went after her at the zoo, it’s all my fucking fault, Reid.”

I sobbed into his shirt, my hand gripping his shirt like my life depended on it. Like if I let go I would fall into a deep, deep, endless hole.

His hand on my waist moved up to cradle my head.

“It’s not, I promise you-“

He was cut off mid sentence by the ringing of his phone.

“I am so, so sorry-”

I pulled away, breifly touching under my nose with my wrist, then moving a hair behind my ear.

“Nope, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Our words almost had overlapped each other as we clambered to fight the tension that had risen. I closed my eyes, tilting my head up, thinking about how unprofessional yet intimate our previous position had been. How wrong, yet how right it felt.

I kept running the moment through my head, the feeling of his warm figure encasing mine on replay.

His phone call played as background noise to the film playing in my brain, his voice calming me to an extent.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Thanks, Morgan.”

He closed the phone with a snap, also snapping me out of my trance, putting the movie on pause.

“They’ve got a hit. Copelas was seen dropping by her old apartment.”

And for the first time since that Goddamn case had started, I smiled genuinely.

“Let’s go get her.”

————————

15 Minutes Prior, Central Park, New York

“Hotch?”

“Yes?” He looked back from where he was driving, following our lead in a rushed manner.

“What will we do if she...” I trailed off.

“Hypnotizes one of us?” He finished for me. I nodded solemnly.

The look on his face was conflicted and it took him a moment to come up with a response.

“We kill her before we have to kill one of our team members.”

He saw a look of uncertainty on my face and spoke up once more.

“And that’s an order.”

I nodded again, making eye contact with him through the rear view mirror. I fell back into my seat, closing my eyes briefly.

After a few more minutes on the road, we had arrived.

The doors all slammed to the SUVs, one after the other as we stepped out.

“The letter said that she would be here, somewhere here.”

The voice of Morgan was channeling through my earpiece, referring to the letter found at her apartment that she had left just for us.

“We ordered evac on citizens, correct?”

The unsure voice of JJ was also heard through the earpiece, her uncertainty quite unusual to hear.

“Yes, it was the first thing we did, Jayj.”

I whispered, a sly smirk from Spencer forming at my behavior.  

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

snap!

Our senses adapted, becoming dialed to 11 at the sound of a twig snapping under someone's feet.

“Was that you?” I mouthed to Spencer. He shook his head no and I silently cursed to whatever force was listening.

I nodded, which he then reciprocated, the pair of us slowly walking towards the source of the sound after he did.

“They’re going to remember me, I’ll go down in history.”

The voice was sing-songy and quiet, floating through the air. I took a shaky breath, continuing my steady pace.

My breathing momentarily halted soon after.

Different variations of “Oh my God”s, and loud gasps from almost everyone on the team flooded my ear canal at the horrifying sight in front of us.

Red. So much of it.

“Guys, I think we know what she’s been doing with the bodies’ blood.”

“No shit.” I muttered under my breath.

She was bathed in the blood, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Alright everyone, I want you to approach her as quietly as possible, Morgan, if you get the chance, corner her.”

Hotch’s voice was a stark contrast to her own, Derek’s response all the same.

—————————

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“But Agents, you still haven’t answered my question. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Alessia Copeleas, FBI, come on, get up, lets go.”

Derek’s voice was stern, not asking, but demanding that Alessia come with us.

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that, Agents.”

She stood up abruptly, causing all of our weapons to rise. The sun reflected off of the silver metal of Reid’s gun, sparkling in a stunning way that caught me off guard.

We all were trying to act as if we were in total control of the situation, but we could tell that us nor Copelas really believed that. Her words were her weapon, and this was the one time where words could hurt, but sticks and stones had virtually no power.

“Take another step and we will have no hesitation to fire.”

She smirked, rolling her eyes.

“If you do, will I be famous you think? You think they’ll hear about me back home?”

Her curls softly blew in the wind, making her appear almost harmless, maybe even endearing, if it wasn’t for the hardening coat of human blood soaking her clothes and seeping from her skin.

“Is that what you want? The kids back home and everyone here to hear about you? You want ‘Butterfly Baron’ written on every billboard in Times Square, your picture painted in museums, films to be made in your honor?” Reid was the one who spoke up this time, his voice remaining strong. Her eyes shone with a sickening excitement at what he said.

“You want to be famous?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Too bad.”

My eyes widened, surprised at the detour the conversation had taken.

“What-what do you mean?”

��Please, the only thing people will hear about is a sad, boring little girl from a small town who killed to feel better about herself. They’ll forget about you in a week, who knows, maybe they’ll even grow an infatuation with your town, someone you went to school with may get as lucky as to catch their big break!” He laughed, while Alessia looked absolutely devastated.

“You? You’ll be a nobody.”

“That’s not true! I’ll go down in history, and they won’t! I’m the fucking butterfly baron for hells sake! All these people?” She gestured towards her field of bodies.

“You won’t remember their names, maybe not even their pretty faces, but me? I’ll live forever.”

Her nostrils flared and she strode over to Reid with purpose. The safety on my glock clicked off, but Spencer motioned for me to wait. So I did.

“You know, Agent-“

“It’s Doctor.”

This visibly agitated her even more as she started her sentence over again.

“Doctor, you have a beautiful bone structure. Absolutely perfect. Symmetrical, not to mention just flat out stunning.”

A glaze formed over Spencer’s honey eyes at her words. He lowered his gun momentarily before turning towards me, Copelas doing the same.

“And you, Agent. Wow. I feel like I’m in an art exhibit, you’re gorgeous. I think the Doctor man here would agree.”

As he lifted his revolver at me, the situation became all too real as I understood what was happening.

I either had to shoot the man that I was struggling to admit I was beginning to love, or died at the hands of the very same man.

Tears flooded my eyes, all safeties were turned down, and all guns were pointed at Reid.

“Spence, please.”

My voice was weak, something that seemed to bring Alessia lots of joy.

She laughed before talking again, commanding Spencer.

“Pathetic, really! Spence”, she mocked,“shoot her.”

“No!”

bang!

whack!

--------------------- 

Present Day, Somewhere In The Sky, The Jet

I opened my eyes from where I had been tackled to the ground by Hotch, surveying my surroundings to see Alessia laying on the grass, the source of her gunshot wound non-distinguishable from the previous blood on her body.

I looked to the right to see where Spencer had crumpled to, his frame bent in a discombobulated position.

“Spencer!” I cried out, crawling over to him like some sort of dog,

“What happened to him?”

“Y/n, he was going to shoot you-“

“I don’t care you should have let him!”

I cradled his head in my lap, allowing my pent up tears to fall.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snapped open for real this time, my mind calmed at the sight of Spencer sitting next to me on the couch, gently shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me from my nightmare.

“Spencer! Sorry, was I too loud?”

He chuckled, gesturing to the rest of the sleeping plane around us.

“You’re fine, I wasn’t sleeping, I decided to reread ‘Fahrenheit 451’ for nostalgia purposes. And you weren’t that loud, you just looked like you were having a bad dream.”

I chuckled at the not-so outlandish idea in an attempt to diminish it from his mind and move on.

“I’m fine. But fun fact, I did have nightmares after reading ‘The Veldt’. Seriously, I don’t get how you can just reread Bradbury’s stuff all the time.”

The genius scoffed, starting a rant on how Ray Bradbury’s storytelling was just classic literature and deserved to be reread, thus successfully changing the topic as I hoped my statement would. Although soon after, he caught on much quicker than I would have liked him to.

“And not to mention, The Veldt alone could be seen as a forewarning to the 21st century and beyond, even Bradbury himself supported that interpretation-‘

I gave him a tired smile, enjoying his rambling like I always did.

“-and you totally just got me to change the subject.”

“I was wondering when you were gonna catch up.”

“Hey!”

He laughed as I rested my head on my hand, trying to fall back asleep.

“Really, I can tell those nightmares are bad. What’s going on?” He questioned, his tone empathetic and compassionate.

“It’s nothing, Reid. I just keep seeing in the park, when Alessia got shot and you-you got hurt but instead of getting up like you did in real life, you just…”

I trailed off, not wanting to relive the negative dream any longer for fear of the tears that were pricking my eyes escaping.

“It’s okay, that didn’t happen, I’m right here.”

He pulled me into a hug, allowing me to bury my head in the crook of his neck, his warmth consuming me once more, a sequel to the film from earlier.

“I know, but what if it hadn’t?” I asked as I pulled away.

He shook his head, reaching for his wallet.

“In this job, this course of work, we can’t focus on ‘what if’s’. In this job, we also get nightmares, all of us. It happens.”

He slid a picture over to me, it was of a happy family. The edges were worn from years of being carried, but the picture seemed loved.

“Gideon gave me that when my nightmares started. He told me about how those families we save everyday, and how that’s what makes what we do worth it. And I know you didn’t know Gideon personally, or the work on the specific case with that family, but I want you to have it anyway-“

I cut him off by throwing my arms around his neck, attempting to speak despite being muffled by his fluffy sweater.

“Thank you, Spence. Truly.”

I smiled, and I imagined he was doing the same.

“No problem y/n. Anytime.”

I moved my legs over to be tucked underneath my arms, leaning into Reid. He wrapped his arm around me, also leaning in. We both managed to fall asleep for the remainder of the ride in our state of content, but not before he managed to sleepily call out my name.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“When we land do you wanna go on a date or somethin’?”

I smiled at him, separating from his form just long enough to see that beautiful face of his.

“Without a doubt.”

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

AHAHAHHAHAHAHA I’M WAY TOO HAPPY WITH THAT LMAOOO but anyway chile- 

i don’t have some long ass paragraph to write this time omg wig, i’m just proud asf of my work for once (except for the zoo part ngl kinda didn’t like it😳) 

😛✨vibes✨ love u, xx hj

[pops-and-kids]

Below is a birthday short I wrote for @mushroomgrenade who runs @ask-wbp-b! I’m late to posting it (SORRY MUSHROOM CKWEMNKFSDHG) both the mun and muse share the same birthday, so it’s a combined gift! Enjoy! (HAPPY late BIRTHDAY MY DUDE)

B looked out at the water. The evening was calm, the waters lapping gently at the side of the ship below. The sky was ablaze with oranges and reds as the sun bid the world good-night on the horizon. The only sounds for miles were the laughter and cheers of her brothers from the deck. She would be having a cigarette right now, if Jiru hadn’t confiscated them earlier. A hand on her shoulder pulled her back out of her thoughts and back into the moment.

Thatch gave her a wide smile.

“I was wondering where our special gal went! We can’t have a party without the birthday girls approval!” He said.

B huffed at that. Yes, big parties were sort of the norm for the Whitebeards, but she still felt a bit weird that they would set a day aside for her instead of just adding her to the list of clumped birthdays at the end of the month. She wasn’t a commander, but they still treated her on her birthday like this.

“You didn’t need to go overboard this year.” She said.

Thatch pouted dramatically and leaned down to her level. He clasped his hands together and looked at her as if she had just told him the saddest thing he’d ever heard.

“But it’s your day!” He exclaimed. “We’re supposed to have cake! And games! And booze! And all your favorite foods! You can spend the night with someone--geh!!”

B slapped her palms on his cheeks, a tick mark appearing on her forehead.

“What was that last one?”

“Nothing! Nothing!”

B gave another small huff and squished his cheeks in her hands. Thatch made a wine of displeasure but made no move to back away. Sometimes she wondered why she loved this dumb little brother so much, but he was always quick to remind her with those bright eyes.

“Really, it didn’t need to be this elaborate.” She said.

Finally releasing him Thatch stood up straight, his trademark smile returning instantly. He laughed off her aggravation and continued to ramble about what they had set up for her. It was all too much, just for her. She loved her idiot of a brother, but she really wanted to bonk him on the head. Birthdays were important to her, but her own wasn’t as big of a deal as the others made it out to be. She was only their dimension jumping sister who could see into the future and glitch out, nothing special about that. Totally.

Realizing Thatch had stopped his chatter she looked up at him again. He looked extremely happy, like it was his big day instead of her own. Her brother leaned down and took her hands into his own and beamed down at her.

“I’m really happy we can do this for you. I know being in the spotlight isn’t something you like, but we all want you to feel appreciated! Come on!”

He held her hand and pulled her along as they walked to the kitchen. B offered no resistance and cracked a smile to her family as they passed, they were all happy smiles aimed at her. It was slightly uncomfortable, but easily ignored. Thatch pulled her into the mess hall and released her hand finally, rushing into the kitchen. He yelled someone to the cooks while B stood awkwardly at the counter, before he reappeared with a bowl. Anticipation rolled off him in waves as he gave it to her. The man was practically vibrating as he watched her.

“Try it! It’s the same as last time, with a few differences.”

B didn’t need to ask what it was. She knew exactly what was in the hot bowl in her hands: a meal from her home. No matter how many times Thatch made it for her or she herself tried to make it, it never came out just right. He never gave up though, and it charmed her. He really wanted to give her a taste of the home she missed, even if it had taken years of trying.

Taking a sip she let the flavors swirl around her mouth, warmth spreading across her body. It was delicious! Though she expected none the less from Thatch. It brought back memories of her old home, the good and the bad. But it was still missing….something. She had long accepted that some things from her world simply did not translate into the world of One Piece, but that didn’t mean she was going to dissuade her brother from trying.

Looking up she met his eyes and smiled.

“Still not close, Thatchy.” She said with a shake of her head.

Thatch’s smile gave way to disappointment. The poor man had really tried, taking all her notes into consideration for this batch, but it still wasn't quite there. B gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“It’s still amazing though. I really like this.”

Her brother perked up at that. It may not have been perfect, but few things ever were. They spent some time in the kitchen with B testing and giving greenlights to foods, Thatch practically vibrating at her approval. The two chatted until Haruta burst in, accusing Thatch of hogging the birthday girl and cuddling up to her side.

“Come on, B! We can’t start the party without you!” They said.

She didn’t get a word in edgewise before they grabbed her arm like a child and dragged her along.

“I’ll see you in a little!” Thatch called after her.

In the time they had talked the sun had completely gone, stars taking its place. The deck was packed with people. They had already broken out the alcohol, but considering no one was red in the face or laughing uncontrollably they weren’t going heavy on it. All of them were waiting on her to start them off. Haruta smiled excitedly as they pulled her in front of Pops’ chair. Rubbing her arm she tried to scold Haruta for yanking her along so hard, but the rumble of her fathers laugh drowned some of it out.

B looked up at him, silently asking for help since she would not know peace for hours tonight. Pops only smiled, love in his and peace in his relaxed form. She sighed internally. No amount of mental preparation was going to help being bombarded by loving idiots from all sides. Behind her Haruta took in a deep breath.

“Hey everybody! She’s here!” They yelled at the top of their lungs.

There was a beat of silence followed by an uproar of cheers. Smiling faces all around greeted B. The commanders, who were scattered around the deck among their family, came to the front of the crowd next to Pops, joy coming off them in waves. B put on an awkward smile, holding two thumbs up to everyone to hide how uncomfortable she was with all eyes on here. Thankfully, it only lasted a moment before the fourth division came out with the main course of food and started filling the tables up.

“It looks like the party can begin.” Pops said.

And it began with all the energy you could expect; Music blaring from the front of the deck, caring all the way across the ship, barrels of beer draining in minutes, games and dancing. The first to approach her was Vista. Her brother laughed and twisted his mustache, leaning down comically far to get somewhat close to her height.

“I believe this is the first time I’ve seen you all day! Not hiding away, are we?” He teased.

B gently bonked him on the head, returning the smile.

“No, I just knew I wouldn’t be able to take a single step without being ambushed by someone.” She said.

The two laughed and Vista gave her a pat on the shoulder, heading off to get drinks. Next was Namur, who quietly placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled.

“Happy birthday, B.”

“Thanks, fishy.” She said.

She reached up and ruffled the raven locks on the top of his head. He didn’t move to dissuade her. Namur wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, nuzzling their cheeks together before letting go and taking his leave. Blenheim and Blamenco were next. Blenheim kneeled down and scooped B up, letting her sit on his arm like a perch.

“Happy birthday! We missed you at lunch!” Blamenco said.

“You were a ghost all day!” Blenheim chuckled.

B felt a twinge of guilt, now having a few commanders call her out. But they knew her habits, she didn’t like things to be all about her, despite the end result being the same.

“Hey you’re seeing me now. I could still go back to my room and leave you all?” She said, raising her eyebrow mischievously.

“No!” Both the men cried in unison.

She laughed and patted both of them on the head. They made brief chatter, some inside jokes and glee about the day. Blamenco joked about his pouches being sore from carrying all the gifts, promptly earning him a soft bonk for pushing his devil fruit too hard. It was a bit before she was set down and they two went off to join Vista at the drinks table, their smiles filling B with warmth.

Curiel would have burst onto the scene next--but there being no fireworks put him in a grand mood. B giggled softly and patted his back. She appreciated him holding back from the light show for her day. Fireworks always made her stressed, no matter how often they used them. Curiel setting aside explosives seemed like a miracle to the crew, but he did it for her and that’s what made it a big deal.

“If I didn’t love you so much I would have snuck up on you with a party popper by now.” He said.

“Pfft I’d knock your teeth in if you did that.”

“Yeah but it’d be funny. For a bit.”

Fossa came over, once Curiel had finished hogging B’s cuddles. The man chuckled and scooped her up not unlike Blenheim had earlier.

“Even the weather fancies you,” He said, “Third year without a single cloud in the sky on your birthday. Starting to get suspicious.”

They laughed. For a conversation starter so mundane Fossa and B had quite a bit to talk about. Simple things they both could ramble about to one another as if it were the easiest things in the world. They talked for so long Rakuyo had to make his presence known, going unnoticed behind them for an embarrassingly long time.

“Uhm, I think it’s my turn with the B?” He said, anxiously.

Fossa looked back at him, choking back a laugh.

“Kid that sentence has way too many connotations.”

“Oh fuck off!”

B wheezed at the red tint that dashed across Rakuyos face. Fossa never missed a beat, did he. The taller commanders chuckled and set her down, giving her a pat on the head and a soft ‘happy birthday’ before heading off. Rakyuo looked miserable and thoroughly embarrassed, B couldn’t help laughing some more.

“God, you’re so easy to mess with, Raky.”

“I should have stayed in bed. Fuck your birthday, I’m out.”

She smiled and opened her arms invitingly, tilting her head with soft eyes. Rakuyo sighed and slumped into her, putting all his weight on his smaller sister. B gasped and leaned back, straining at how sudden and heavy that was.

“Raky I swear to fuck-” She croaked out from under him.

Rakuyo finally let up, standing up properly and hugging her back. He laughed a little at the redness of her face.

“Sorry I almost crushed you.”

“‘Almost?’”

They had fun with their back and forth banter. They poked fun at each other, telling jokes and watching some chaos unfold across the deck as a barrel was knocked over. A bunch of their poor brothers slipped and fell, taking some others down with them as they tried to stop their fall.

After some time Rakuyo took his leave, letting B finally get her drink. She had been talking for so long she felt incredibly grateful to the cooks for making sure she wasn’t left with scraps by now. A nice plate was set aside, just for her, with all the best things and a large mug of good alcohol. She sat down next to Pops, who was chuckling and tapping his foot to the tempo of the current song. They sat quietly, few words shared in comfortable silence. There was no need for a long chat after all.

The last to approach her was Ace. The boy looked very shy as he came over, a small box in her hand. B raised her eyebrow at him.

“Hey, the gifts go on the gift table.” She said.

The look of Ace's face immediately made her backtrack.

“But, uh, I’m not doing anything if you wanna give it to me now!”

Patting the open spot next to her she gave him a smile.

“C’mere, buddy. Let me see!”

Ace plopped down at her side and handed the small box to her. He looked at her with wide eyes, brimming with anticipation. Tearing the thin paper B was greeted with a single brown box, two letters ‘RF’ stamped on. Opening it she was taken aback. Inside was a white rabbit's foot, speckled with small patches of black fur on the back. It was quite small, the top covered in silver with an intricate design of dashing and swirls like leaves.

“I uh,” Ace started, “It means good luck, and even though you already have a lot of luck a little more wouldn’t hurt?”

B looked at him. The kid was looking at her like he was the dumbest son of a bitch across the seas, anxiously waiting for her response. She smirked, taking the charm out and holding it.

“It’s nice, Ace! Looks like it’ll fit on the action of my gun.”

“Yeah! I got it just for that! Or you could hang it somewhere in your room!”

Pops glanced over at his two children. The sight of the two most guarded people he’d ever accepted, talking at if they’d been friends for years, filled him with pride. With his signature laugh he stood up, taking his cup of sake with him. The crew paused and looked to their captain and father. Pops gave them a smile and lifted his drink up.

“To B’s birthday, and her many years to come!”

“AYE!!”

[my-happy-little-bean]

The Bookkeeper - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Red Rising

pairings: logicality, prinxiety  words: 2260  chapter warnings: swearing, mild existentialism, mild fighting chapter summary: sometimes, you must fire with fire. or, in logan’s case, fight magic with...slightly weaker magic.

[read on ao3]  [masterlist] 

< previous chapter

—

Logan wished he could say he wrote for a few more hours, but it more so felt like someone was driving in the parking lot and writing the word ‘o’ over and over into the ground.

It was a treacherous cycle that unfortunately goes uninterrupted. Roman had disappeared after his disastrous encounter with Patton, presumably getting tidy and doing some more nook-cleaning, so there were little to no distractions. 

Yet Logan still had a blank page with only his research question: “If life has no inherent meaning under the lens of nihilism, why are humans so eager to escape and create art if they are simply creating something out of nothing?”

Logan crumpled up another piece of paper and groaned, throwing it behind him. He waited for the defeated sound of it hitting the ground, but it never came. 

Frowning, he turned his head slightly, and felt the ball of paper hit his head.

“Watch where you’re going, Harry Rotter ,” Roman said smugly, levitating from seemingly out of nowhere and hovering over where the ball of paper landed on the counter. Logan rolled his eyes. 

“It’s Harry Po– oh, who cares.” He pushed his glasses up, tapping his pencil against his notebook to look busy. “Is there something you need, Roman?” 

“Uh, yeah. I need you to go outside and be a human or something.” 

“It’s very late, Roman.” 

“It’s 8:30 PM !” Roman exclaimed, exasperated, flying circles around Logan’s head. “Listen, I've been watching you get stuck all evening–” 

“You’ve been watching me? From w here?” 

“–and you’re at nothing! Zada!” Roman snapped his fingers, a spark of red appearing around his fist. “ Zilcho .” 

“I get it, Roman.” Logan squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Face it, Specs. You’re stuck. This subject, no matter which side you land on, is way too much for a speech that has very little meaning in the long run. This is just a roundabout way of saying you’re having a crisis.”

“Falsehood,” Logan muttered, ignoring how sharply Roman’s words stung. “Sure, there’s plenty of views I can write on, but I am more than capable of understanding at least one answer. I’m just...” 

Logan sighed, leaning back in his chair. His seemingly unanswerable question echoed in his head, as it had millions of times before.

“Perhaps I need to re-read Virgil Aries’ book,” he finally said. “Maybe there’s something I missed.” 

Roman groaned. “Not this book again–” 

“It is a good book, Roman,” Logan shot back pointedly. 

“It’s literally called ‘Nihilism and the Death of Art’. Where’s the ‘good’ in any of that?”

“Virgil Aries was onto something,” Logan said, now mostly to himself. “In this book, there were pages and pages of speculation, of controversial questioning — he was on the edge of a philosophical revelation, he just didn’t have the time to finish. He must have had so much more to say than what his posthumous publication detailed. He just needed more time, and I believe that I can become the extension of said time.”

Roman said nothing, just blankly staring at him. Logan huffed, picking up his pencil. 

“ Anyway, if we are done here, I will just go ahead and—”

Zzzzt! Logan winced at the slight shock that shot through his hand, dropping his pencil. He looked up and saw a trail of red magic fall from the tip of Roman’s index finger, posed in a finger-gun gesture. 

Roman blew against it, as if blowing smoke from the barrel of a gun. 

“Very mature, Roman.” Logan reached for the pencil once more, but was met with the same zap! 

Logan narrowed his eyes at Roman and, as if testing the waters, shot back his own burst of magic. Roman yelped, throwing his hands over his face. Logan’s navy blue magic turned purple against the surface of Roman’s flimsily-constructed shield, which fell apart into dust upon contact. 

Roman smirked, seemingly unfazed by the sudden outburst. 

“Alright, I see how we’re playing it.”

Roman shot another stream of magic towards Logan, who moved his head out of the way to avoid being hit. However, Logan heard it hit something behind him and before he knew it, a levitated book lightly bonked the back of his head cover-first. 

“God– Roman that is quite enough!” Logan hissed as Roman burst into hysterics. Logan rolled his eyes, snatching the levitating book out of the air and putting it back in its place. He then moved out from behind the counter and pressed his hands together, hoping to use his magic once more.

He pulled them back quickly, expecting a great presence of magical energy, but was only met with a feeble spark. 

Logan groaned, pressing together his hands together once more, before quickly pulling them back again. Nothing.

"Are you done with all this applause? You're too kind!" Roman beamed. Logan made a point to ignore him. He instead squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands together even tighter than before, before slowly parting his hands. A small ball of magic steadily grew between his palms. 

‘There you go.’  

He channeled a teleportation spell that was by no means harmful, but could at least send Roman into his room upstairs, which he knew was locked. That could buy him at least some time to create some sort of magical ward to keep Roman out for a bit. 

When the ball of magic was big enough, he hurled it towards Roman with a loud cry. However, Roman quickly flew upwards to dodge it, letting it hit the bookshelves behind him instead. The sudden miss distracted Logan’s channeling of the spell and sent books flying into the air. 

“Nice shot, Specs!”

“Oh shut up .” 

“Well where’s the fun in a battle without some good ol’ battle banter?”

To his own surprise, Logan smiled as he rushed over to the books, sending more streams of magic towards Roman in attempts of hitting him. One stream hit the handle of the front door. The sound of a loud ‘click!’ echoed softly throughout the shop to unheard ears.

Roman laughed. “You can do better than that, can’t you?” 

“You will find that–” Logan ducked underneath Roman’s magical rebuttals– “I can!���

A bright stream of Roman’s magic barrelled towards Logan as he looked up, red blurring his vision. Logan instinctively grabbed a book that had fallen off the shelf next to him and held it up in front of his face to protect himself. The magic hit the book, which was knocked out of his hands and flung onto the floor next to him, wide open. Logan caught sight of the title on one of the pages: The Jungle Book.

“Well shi–” 

A small, colourful bird shot out from the pages.

“Good grief!” Logan swatted at the bird until he dispelled its presence from the shop and sent it back into the book. He slammed it closed before anything else could be conjured up, heaving from the exertion. Roman howled with more laughter as he effortlessly sent another shot of magic towards Logan. 

Logan looked down at the flickering navy sparks in his palms and grimaced. There was only so much he could do.

Without thinking, Logan took another book off the ground and opened it this time, facing the pages towards Roman so that Roman’s magic could be consumed by the book. He closed it with a satisfying slam and smirked at Roman. 

“Aha–!”

Suddenly, he heard the sound of pages turning behind his head. He whipped around to see a different open book floating behind him. A shot of red magic—the one Logan thought he had concealed in the book he was holding—hit his nose.

“What the–” 

Roman grinned at him. “Power of sequels.” 

Logan’s gaze shot towards Roman, who had one arm raised up. Logan felt himself float upwards slowly in time with Roman’s hand. He felt himself wobble in the air, trying to regain any semblance of control. Roman, however, focused all his energy on levitating Logan up the stairs. 

“It’s time,” Roman huffed, “to get changed and– and I don’t know, live a little! ” 

Logan’s eyes locked with Roman’s for a split second, and it felt like everything around them suddenly froze. Roman, behind the determination in his eyes, was staring at him with an almost-unreadable expression. Logan frowned. Was he pitying him? Perhaps not, Roman was never one to focus too much on pity. 

He knew that Roman had his best intentions at heart. He wanted him to get out of the shop and out of his head — he told him everyday. Logan had always brushed off his pleas under the guise of wanting to get work done, but he felt like Roman knew all too well that wasn’t the case; that deep down, Logan simply didn’t know what to find outside of Fray and Far Fables.

And then, Roman’s eyes shifted into something that was all-too familiar to him. 

Guilt. 

Overwhelmed by the realization, Logan grabbed a random book off of a shelf he passed by and before he could float completely up the stairs, he grabbed the railing and threw the book near Roman. 

Roman screeched, reflexively throwing his magic towards the book and losing concentration on Logan, who went tumbling down the stairs. As soon as Roman’s magic hit the book in the air, the familiar sound of a twinkle filled the room and the book burst open in a flurry of red light. 

Logan’s eyes widened. “Shit–” 

Without warning, a book nook exploded from the open pages of the book, the title of which Logan just caught sight of. Red Rising by Pierce Brown. Logan braced himself. He must’ve picked a book off the sci-fi shelf, which was never a good start for a book nook. 

Fortunately, an intense sci-fi battle did not unfold in his shop. When the explosion had simmered to a halt, Logan’s gaze darted to Roman, who was narrowing his eyes at the book as his magic dissipated. He must’ve been trying to contain the severity. 

Logan looked up to see what had been summoned, and felt his breath hitch.

Surrounding him was no longer the neutral colours of his shop, but instead a dark forest. Trunks of trees sprouted in front of the shelves, circling them in a flurry of green. The hanging fairy lights became intertwined with leaves and branches and vines as the scent of flowers flooded the shop. The wooden floor grew patches of moss and grass beneath Logan’s knees, as well as red flowers that Logan remembered were called haemanthuses in the Red Rising universe — otherwise known as ‘blood blossoms’ .  

Mesmerized, Logan got on his feet and took a step forward. A butterfly floated past him. He looked up and saw stars glowing softly on the ceiling. A makeshift Andromeda Galaxy. Just as frightening—yet beautiful—as Darrow, the book’s protagonist, described it to be. 

“Christ,” Logan murmured, watching the ceiling stars shift above him. Roman whistled as he floated past the butterfly and towards Logan. 

“I’ll be honest, I did not see that coming.” 

“What exactly did you see coming?” 

“Not sure!” Roman shrugged, looking around him. “I suppose that’s the whole point of an adventure.” 

“This isn’t an adventure, Roman. This is the magical equivalent of a food fight.” 

Roman smiled, but not at Logan. Instead, Logan watched him gaze at the sparks of blue still floating off the tips of his fingers. 

“Good to see that your magic is still there,” Roman murmured. Logan furrowed his brow. Before he could respond, Roman flew towards the floating book and hovered over the pages, peering at the words beneath him.

“ ‘ I am a creature of nooks and tunnels and shafts’, ” Roman read out loud. “ ‘The mine is my home, and part of me wants to run to safety, run from this alien room of living things and vast spaces...’ ”

He paused and looked up at Logan, who only then realized how lost he was in the world conjured up around him. How long had it been since he’s stepped inside a book nook, let alone been immersed in one? 

For a brief second, he felt the answer to all his questions creep into his vision. He blinked, as if doing so could possibly capture this moment in his mind. 

And then, the door swung open. 

“Hey, I didn’t know you were still open!” Logan’s heart dropped at the voice, and he heard Roman gasp behind him. 

“My lucky day, I guess! I forgot my hat here earlier and I was wondering if I could–” 

The voice stopped abruptly as Logan’s head snapped up to see a gaping Patton, standing at the doorway with wide eyes. Caught like a deer in headlights, all Logan could do was stare at Patton. 

Roman, seemingly in the same state of shock, lost concentration on the book he was hovering over. The red shimmer surrounding it disappeared, and it dropped on the floor with a deafening thud! 

The book closed in a flurry of leaves and in a flash of light, the forest shrunk through the cover, as if going back in time. Leaves flew everywhere. The sound of howling wind drowned out Logan’s heavy breathing. 

Logan watched as Patton held the door frame, as if trying to stay steady on his feet. Logan, however, couldn’t move.

When the whole spectacle ended, Roman meekly smiled, still floating in the air. He waved at Patton.

“Er...this is all a weird dream?”

And then, Patton screamed.

—

next chapter > 

[yukiwrites]

Their Joyous Marriage

Thank you so much for the support again, @reirevan! I’m weak for marriages and now it’s DIMILETH’s turn!!

Summary: Precisely because Dimitri and Byleth held the highest positions possible for anyone to hold in Fódlan, their marriage was one that would need months of careful planning. Ah, but to finally be able to swear their love in front fo the world... anything would be worth it.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

_______________________________

Even before they returned to Fhirdiad, Dimitri and Byleth already considered themselves a married couple by the eyes of the goddess. They had exchanged their vows at the Goddess Tower and consummated their wedding, but that was all in between themselves. Their own private wedding, so to speak.

In reality, they would still need to go through many a preparation before they could swear their love in front of the world.

First and foremost, Byleth could not go to the capital of the United Holy Kingdom of Faerghus with her beloved just yet -- as newly appointed Archbishop, she had certain duties to attend to at Garreg Mach monastery, just as Dimitri had his duties as King back in Fhirdiad.

Holding their ring hands before parting ways, they promised to meet again back at Byleth's new home: Fhirdiad. She would do everything she could to transfer all of the routes of information of the Church to the capital, where she was going to make permanent residence of. She was the new Archbishop, but that did not mean that she had to live in Garreg Mach to fulfill her duties.

She was going to be Queen of the new Unified Fódlan as well, after all. Accumulating both positions required her to be as close to the capital as possible -- more precisely, right beside her King, at the Royal Castle.

... Of course, those were all the official responses she sent to the allies of the Church throughout Fódlan. Byleth's true, deepest desire was to be kept beside her husband at all times.

Such tall amount of work would surely take a few months to complete -- to meet with the highest-ranking representatives of the Church around the continent not only to introduce herself but to discuss the best routes they would need to take to deliver information; to hear the plea of the people and spread the doctrine of the goddess she knew of, the Sothis Byleth had housed for the largest part of her life... She was about to reform the entirety of what it meant to be a follower of the goddess, basically.

However, she would leave that bold approach to the faith for when she would be properly installed at Fhirdiad -- for now, she only needed to tackle the most pressing matters required of those in a transition of power.

Besides, there was a detail that kept nudging the back of her mind: As Archbishop of the Church of Seiros, Byleth quite literally outranked every kind of priest that existed in their faith. Who would be able to bless her and Dimitri's unions in the name of the goddess if Byleth herself held the highest position?

Of course, Rhea would be the most obvious choice as the previous Archbishop herself, but due to the continuous mistreatment she went through for five years after the fall of Garreg Mach monastery, she was barely able to give her position away before retiring to a deep slumber at the Holy Mausoleum.

Briefly before falling asleep, Rhea had finally revealed to Byleth the truth of her birth, her origin and the reason why she had housed the consciousness of the goddess inside of her. Finally understanding herself for the first time in her life, this new knowledge only spurred Byleth further into longing to be near her husband for as long as time allowed her to.

Which spiraled back into the question of who could officiate her wedding with the Savior King -- two public and named as 'legendary' figures by the folk such as themselves couldn't be united by a simple priest, not even if said priest were the one officially residing at the capital specifically for such occasions.

Seteth wouldn't do either. Although the right-hand man of the previous Archbishop, he was never seen presiding masses outside Garreg Mach, not to mention officiating marriages.

Byleth sighed, exasperated, as she went through a pile of documents. Resting her head on her fist, she peeked under each sheet of paper to see what it was about; sighing each time she did so.

Meeting, meeting, meeting, public speech, class on how to preside a Mass, public speech, meeting with the eastern church, meeting, visiting one, two, three, seventeen villages-

"Wait a moment." She blinked as she finally focused on what was truly written on the papers. "The eastern church... What does this say, again?" She mumbled to herself as she scrambled through the documents to find the letter from the newly appointed Regent of the Leicester region, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, as he liked to call himself at the beginning of each letter. He asked for Byleth's presence in this endeavor of uniting the Church itself under one same banner much like before, so it could follow the example of the continent.

Well, that was what Byleth had planned from the beginning, but what if... A sly smile started to creep on her lips, making her regain the vigor she had lost as she dove into the endless pile of documents.

One priest or Bishop wouldn't do to officiate the Archbishop's marriage with the Savior King, but what if there were two Bishops from two previously warring factions of the same church?

Byleth was going to have a long and strenuous talk with the representatives of the Eastern and Western Church both, so they could bless her marriage! That would not only be appropriate in terms of rank, but also in terms of unification -- if Byleth managed to bring two known enemies together under the same roof to once again unite their faith in the same goddess, she would have given a full stride towards the direction she wanted the Church to go from now on.

A new glint shining in her eyes, Byleth dunked the tip of her feather pen in ink, bracing herself to write letters all day long.

The first one was to her husband, of course. To let him on her plans for their union as well as to ask him to check what the situation was around the Western Church beside the Rowe territory. In more than a few occasions, Byleth had exchanged blows with them under Rhea's orders, so approaching them with nothing to give but her words would prove difficult.

The second and third ones were for Lorenz and the Eastern Church's Bishop, Deacon, respectively. She also wrote a check list of things she wanted the Knights of Seiros posted at House Edmund's territory to check out once they went out in patrol. She would also send a similar list to the ones posted in Arianrhod so they could keep an eye on the Western Church's movements.

There was a steep, uphill road ahead before she could finally climb up to be married to her beloved, but by Sothis she was going to prevail. She WAS going to marry Dimitri by the end of the year or her name wasn't Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd!

... Well, it wasn't yet, but it was going to be!

Dimitri had to cover his face with both hands to hide his blushing cheeks the moment he read the end of his beloved's letter. On a whim, she had signed it as 'Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd', almost literally killing him instantly. "Oh, but I cannot wait to see you again, my light." He whispered to his hands as he tried to regain his breathing.

He peeked at the letter once again, heat immediately flushing his face. He could see by her handwriting on how boldly she had started it, surely filled with determination after a long time of pondering. The first line, written with such a strong penmanship the ink leaked and stained a bit read as 'My Lion', killing him instantly once again.

"I might frame this," he contemplated as he bonked his head on his desk, a giddy feeling bubbling in his chest. He could barely bear to read it without wanting to giggle like a schoolgirl, his entire body heating in embarrassment and fondness at the same time. Slowly did he reach for the letter to reread it one more time, clutching his chest with his free hand. "No, this is for my eyes only." He pressed his lips into a thin line as he opened the locked drawer of his desk. He would keep it there, close to him whenever he was hard at work.

It would help him cope with her absence, alongside with the ring he proudly wore on his finger. His eyes falling to it, the King smiled fondly, his cheeks still flushed with pink. Dimitri raised his hand to his lips, kissing the ring lovingly. "Separated as we may be, we do this so we can stay together until the end."

Byleth herself could barely be found at the monastery -- she took it upon herself to travel to the most distinct churches of the faith as well as to gather information regarding the opposing factions. Knowing that approaching the Western Church without hearing back from her husband would be a tad too risky, Byleth tackled the Eastern Church first.

Deacon, the Bishop of the Eastern Church, was a meek and reasonable man. His predecessor had died during the war with the Empire, though not because of it, since they couldn't be further from the frontlines. Whooping cough or some other ailment.

The previous Bishop had taken the Eastern Church's mistrust on the Central Church to the grave, apparently, since the negotiations went down so smoothly it shocked Byleth and the Knights she had brought from Garreg Mach. The ones posted at Edmund territory weren't nearly as surprised since they had written as much in their reports, but it was still hard to believe without witnessing it firsthand.

However, despite that tremendous win -- Deacon had agreed to bless Dimitri and Byleth's marriage alongside Abbot, the Western Bishop -- the real fight was still to begin: to convince Abbot himself to go to the ceremony.

Or so Byleth thought. The moment she received word back from Dimitri and the Knights at Arianrhod, she realized that the situation might be easier to tackle than she initially thought.

Of course, the deeply rooted mistrust that described the Central and the Western churches' relationship couldn't be so easily erased, but Abbot, the Bishop appointed to lead the Western Church since the incident back in 1180, had actually been working towards mending that. After the fall of Garreg Mach at the start of 1181 he had put a stop to those plans simply so they could survive through the war, but once Byleth started to make a name for herself inside the Central church after they freed Faerghus from the Empire's hold, Abbot had decided to once again merge the Western Church with the Central one.

Surprisingly good news, really! Even if it took a longer while to convince their respective followers, to have the support of their leaders was a surefire way to fostering understanding between them.

And great timing, as well: Byleth had planned all of her voyages with the goal of having the Western Church be her last stop before moving to Fhirdiad permanently. She had already informed her friends of the former Alliance of her marriage so they would be prepared to leave a month open once they arranged everything. She also wrote a few advance letters to the ones she couldn't visit -- Bernadetta, Ferdinand, Dorothea, Caspar... While her business didn't take her to the former Empire region, Byleth still wanted her companions to be there during the most important moment of her and Dimitri's shared life.

Overjoyed but exhausted to the point of being burned out, Byleth returned to her temporary quarters in Arianrhod to rest, her heavy body contrasting with her light soul and heart. She was just one step closer to being with Dimitri again after five long months or running here and there.

"Just one more step," she mumbled as she finally tucked herself in her bed -- a lonely, too big of a bed. "Then we can be together forever," she sighed longingly, her eyes so heavy she barely made an effort to fall asleep.

Unbeknownst to her, Dimitri had stolen away from the capital in a blind eagerness to finally meet his wife again -- according to Dedue, his known accomplice in letting the King escape from his duties, Dimitri had been so antsy as of late he was barely useful in whatever he did.

If only Byleth had stayed awake for another hour, she could have met Dimitri in the flesh, but alas, the moment his exhausted horse arrived at the gates of the fortress, the Archbishop had already given in to fatigue.

"Your Majesty! If you'd given word of your arrival, we would've prepared your quarters-" A knight from House Rowe scrambled to find the words to direct to the sudden appearance of his King, but Dimitri could barely hear him.

"No matter, good soldier. Just direct me to where the Archbishop is- where the future Queen is located." He almost ran inside, knowing that Byleth would be at the noble wing of the fortress, though relying on the man to point which door he should open to finally meet his beloved.

"Future-" the man stuttered, freezing in place. "A-at once, Your Majesty! This way! B-but the Archbishop has already retired to sleep-"

"No matter, I said," Dimitri almost skipped, making the poor knight struggle to keep up. Once the proper way was pointed out, the grand smile on his face almost made it impossible to speak. "Thank you, good soldier. You are dismissed." He said softly before quietly opening the door, disappearing inside of it.

Ah, there Byleth was, wrapped under the covers... And it wasn't a dream, not this time! She was there, she was real; they finally met again!

Barely containing his excitement, Dimitri felt his eye burn with tears, faltering in his steps to the bed. He silently took off his mantle and jacket, placing them over a nearby chair. Then, he took his boots off without even sitting down, bending only when it was time to climb on the bed.

His whole body trembled to the point of worrying that the sound of his thundering heartbeat could wake his beloved up -- how tired she looked! How ragged, how exhausted- how terribly, wonderfully beautiful!

Ah, to gaze upon her features again! Dimitri sniffled with emotion, quietly slipping under the sheets as he laid by his beloved's side. He took a few strands of hair from her face, unsure of what he wanted to do -- to hug her, obviously, but he also wanted to gaze upon her throughout the night, to hear her calm breathing and finally take it in that she was there, with him.

In his un-decision, he decided to simply gaze upon her beauty until either sleep claimed him or left her, whichever came first.

Dimitri thought he would be able to stay up all night as he did many a time before, but simply being with Byleth again made his whole body relax and fall soundly asleep like he hadn't done properly in the past five months.

In the morning, Byleth groggily snuggled into her beloved's chest, her mind still far from catching up with what had happened. She simply dug her face into the familiar warmth, wrapping her arms around his solid build.

Realization hit her so fast it made her jump out of his arms. "Who is- Dimitri?!" She gasped, "what- how-"

Startled by his wife's start, Dimitri sat up almost immediately, although his face was still in the land of dreams. "Hu- Byle- my light-" he shook his head, quickly remembering what had happened. "Oh, My Light, you are finally awake!" Wasting no time, he dove into his beloved's lips, claiming them to himself like the both of them wanted for so very long.

"Mmph...!" Byleth rolled her eyes in pleasure, forgetting how many times she wished for that to happen. To taste his kiss again and be tenderly held by him- oh, what joy!

Once the fog of exhaustion lifted from her mind, she could mostly guess how her husband had found her there, but she was too busy indulging herself into his kiss to speak at that moment.

Finally reunited, the couple could at last work together in preparing for their marriage -- they sent proper invitations to their friends from in and out of Fódlan. Byleth mentioned wanting her dress to be decorated by Hilda, Dorothea and Bernadetta, remembering how good the three of them were with sewing.

It would be special to her to have her former students -- now her allies and friends -- to have an active role in the preparations. She would never have won the war by herself, after all.

Dimitri had bashfully asked for his childhood friends Sylvain, Felix and Ingrid to be his best men and woman, expecting rejection of at least a third of the party. But Duke Fraldarius had actually agreed to it, though his letter sounded rude as always.

"'Don't make me regret it', huh?" Byleth giggled as she read Felix's reply, lying on her husband's lap as they arranged this or that detail of the party inside their quarters.

Dimitri smiled bashfully, "that truly does sound like him, does it not? I am glad that deep down he is still the same boy I befriended as a child."

"Both of you changed," Byleth held two different kinds of sample of laces for the details of the tables overhead, close to Dimitri's face. "But your bond will always be unbreakable, I'm sure of it."

Dimitri chose the lace on the right, nodding as Byleth put it on the 'chosen' pile. "Indeed."

As the big day approached, so did the guests who came from farther away -- Claude arrived with Hilda and Lorenz, bringing gifts and good news from Almyra. The trio never failed to make Byleth laugh with their interactions, bringing warmth into the Queen-to-be's heart.

Bernadetta arrived a few days after, quickly latching onto Byleth's arm. "I-I came to a new place on my own, see!" She stuttered as she followed her former professor around like a duckling. "Although you're here with me as p-promised."

"Thank you for braving through this trip for me, Bernie. I hope I didn't ask too much of you in helping with a few touches on my dress."

"O-oh, don't be sorry, Professor- umm, should I still call you that? You haven't been my teacher in over six years and I'm sure I should be calling you Your Majesty? Maybe Your Holiness? I'm-"

Byleth chuckled. "Just call me Professor if that's easier for you, Bernie. Don't worry too much about it, okay? I called you here because I wanted you to witness this important moment."

Bernadetta lowered her head, blushing slightly. "O-okay. Thank you, Professor. I'll do my best to help with the dress! B-but don't blame me if looks terrible in the end, okay? It probably will..."

"Hah! It's going to be fine!"

It felt as though Byleth had spent the entire year running around from place to place -- which was actually true. She had barely had time to breathe in preparation for the big day, but she couldn't be happier. She was overcome with emotion the first time she tried on her dress, allowing a few tears to escape before sniffling them all back in. Once she saw Dimitri in his outfit testing, she was unable to keep her emotions in check, however.

He looked so radiant and full of life -- so unlike the unhinged man she had found during the war. He was still the same man inside, she knew of it, but witnessing his recovery from this up close was so breathtaking it took the strength out of her body. How she loved him!

Dimitri giggled as Byleth jumped in his arms to steal a kiss, his own emotions overflowing through his eye.

In a blur, time flowed quickly -- soon it was time to walk down the aisle: the cathedral of Fhirdiad was packed with guests from all over Fódlan, the Bishop dual awaiting at the feet of the goddess.

Byleth wore a bright white dress, its ruffles and sleeves skillfully modified by the three young ladies who already sobbed quietly at the front row of the altar. A flowy, lace cape covered her slender shoulders, matching her pair of long gloves as she slowly made her way through the red carpet.

Gustave walked her down the aisle, proud to be the one to hand his new Queen's hand to his King. Once their hands met, Dimitri and Byleth smiled ever so softly it brought tears to that old man's eyes.

"Hey, you're not crying, are you, Felix?" Sylvain whispered by his friend's side as they stood a ways behind Dimitri as his best men.

The Duke flinched, quickly turning his face away from his friend. "What? 'Course I'm not. Go get some glasses."

Ingrid stepped on both of their feet. "Do you want to ruin this ceremony?! Quiet!" She whispered gravely, about to pull their ears.

Abbot glanced at the trio before clearing his throat to start his matrimonial speech while Deacon gestured for all of the guests to be seated.

"We are here beneath the feet of the goddess to bless this couple in marriage..." Abbot started, being followed by Deacon.

"The couple that unified not only our continent, but our faith under a single banner once more."

Dimitri and Byleth exchanged glances, their fingers intertwined into a firm hand hold. "I love you," Byleth mouthed as the Bishops kept on with their speech.

His eyes blurry with tears, Dimitri squeezed his beloved's hand just a little before bringing it to his lips. "I love you, too." He mouthed back, stealing a few 'awww's from the guests who were at the front row.

"... and now, for the Solemn Promise." Abbot finished his part of the speech, raising both hands towards the sky. "Would the couple- ah, you're already holding hands, I see."

Byleth and Dimitri once again glanced at one another, their emotional smiles never leaving their faces.

Deacon extended his hands to the couple, inviting them to place their hand hold over the altar. Once they did, Deacon held them within his own. "Do, Byleth Eisner, consent to this union in taking Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd as your husband, in sickness and health, in poverty and wealth?"

"I do." She replied solemnly, never breaking eye contact with her beloved.

"Do you, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, consent to this union in taking Byleth Eisner as your wife, in sickness and health, in poverty and wealth?"

"I do... no matter what comes our way." He replied, his voice cracking.

Both Bishops nodded, Abbot joining the hold with his hands. The both of them spoke at the same time: "May the Goddess in Her magnanimous will strengthen your consent and fill you both with Her blessings. What the Goddess has joined together, let no man put asunder."

"Forever," Byleth's lips trembled as she lost herself in her beloved's eyes.

"Forever." Dimitri mirrored, his hands shaking slightly.

"You may kiss the Queen now, Your Majesty." Abbot and Deacon let go of the couple's hands, each patting on a royal's back.

Dimitri was sure he would be bashful in sharing a kiss with his beloved in front of so many people, but he wasn't. He was so focused in her emerald eyes, glistering with tears; in her peach colored lips just waiting to be kissed... He closed his eye as their breaths intertwined, their lips brushing slightly before they pressed against one another.

Forever. They thought in unison as they embraced for the first time as official husband and wife.

[byronblogs]

The Haircut

This is an art trade I just did with the lovely @kiwitickleart they were so kind as to draw me a beautiful piece of art, so, in turn, I wrote them this fic. I hope to trade with you again! Enjoy😁

   

Crona had been having trouble adjusting to the DWMA lifestyle. There were more people than they had ever seen, and with the background of attacking some of the students, Crona didn’t feel as though they deserved such a kind welcome. They were rooming in a cell at the moment, however, Crona actually found the simple room comforting after a full day of dealing with people bombarding them with questions and conversations and kindness. Crona was, in the end, infinitely grateful for the kind hearts of all of their strange new friends, Maka, Soul, Black Star, Tsubaki, Death the Kid, and even the Thompson sisters, however, they were still exhausted when the end of the day came around.

    That exhaustion is the reason it took a careful weight resting on the side of their bed to rouse the new student from their sleep.

    “GAH!” They cried, flying awake to sit against the wall, Ragnarok awaking with them and finding his place in Crona’s hand, blade sharp and at the ready.

    “Oh calm down it’s just me.” A male voice spoke. Crona took a moment to register the face in front of them.

    “Kid?” They asked meekly.

    “Yes, it’s me.” He sighed, slightly annoyed. Crona wondered for a moment if he was annoyed with them.

    “Oh come on you freak! We were sleeping’ y'know!” Ragnarok grouched, his form changing to a little head above Crona’s shoulder.

    “Did you need something?” Crona gulped, not moving from their spot against the wall. They noticed a glint of light reflect off of something in Kid’s hand, “Wait, why do you have scissors?”

    “And a comb?” Ragnarok chimed in.

    “I need to fix something, hold still if you don't mind.” Kid deadpanned, leaning towards Crona.

    “Hey! No!” Crona cried, covering their head with their hands.

    Kid tried to gently pull the arms out of the way, his Sinigami strength coming in handy when Ragnarok tried to push him off of Crona.

    “Hey, I’m the only one that’s allowed to bully Crona! Don't touch them!” The weapon yelled, shoving at Kid’s hands with his little head. 

    A loud crash could be heard as the three rolled off the bed and hit the floor, struggling not stopping until Kid had pinned the poor child. Crona found themselves trapped on their back with kid sitting upon their hips, arms trapped beneath the Sinigami’s knees.

    “I don't know how to deal with this right now!” Crona cried, turning their head to the side and squeezing their eyes shut. They flinched when Kid shifted, their mouth and eyebrows shifting to a fearful wince.

    “Calm down.” Kid grumbled, shoving Ragnarok aside and carefully moving Crona’s head to face them forward, “I just need to fix something.”

    “What are you gonna do?” Crona whimpered, flinching away from the scissors.

    “I’m going to even out your hair. It isn’t symmetrical.” Kid grunted, trying to focus on capturing the right pieces of the child’s hair.

    Crona seemed to calm down at that, finally realizing they were not in danger. However, they shifted their head away before Kid could cut anything. “No! Don’t do that! I like my hair!” 

    “But it’s not even!” Kid cried back, catching the hair again and accidentally brushing Crona’s neck with his hand when they moved away again. He paused when Crona let out a surprised snort, furrowing his eyebrows together when Ragnarok shrunk into himself at the action.

    Kid tried the action again, gently brushing Crona’s neck with his fingers, receiving a quiet squeak and the hint of a smile from the child, Ragnarok making a quiet, indistinguishable noise and hiding in Crona’s hair. He repeated the action three times in quick succession, receiving a giggle from Crona and a snicker from Ragnarok before the information clicked in Kid’s head.

    “Oh, you’re ticklish.” He stated matter-of-factly, sitting back and watching Crona turn beet-red while Ragnarok disappeared back into his meister. 

    “Please don’t do it…” Crona whispered, their face red and a bit of a panic in their eyes. 

    “Just let me cut your hair.” Kid ignored the statement, leaning back in to fix the mop upon the child’s hair, struggling for another ten minutes to get them to sit still before he got annoyed.

    However, he also got an idea. 

    “You know what, Crona? If you wont sit still, I suppose I’ll have to make you.” Kid grinned, a teasing note coming to his voice. It sounded strange in his voice, but it did a good job of putting a panicked smile upon Crona’s face. 

    “No! Don’t you dare!” They cried, trying to shrink into the floor when Kid raised his hands above them, fingers wiggling.

    “Let me cut your hair.”

    Crona hesitated.”No.”

    Kid’s fingers fell to the child’s abdomen, wiggling and scritching and poking all over their stomach and sides. Crona lurched forward, nearly bonking Kid in the head before falling back down and squirming like a worm on a hook. 

    “NO! Nahahahaha!” Their laughter was bright and upbeat, only the slightest note of panic to it. “Ihihi dohon’t know hohow to deal wihihith thihis rihight now!”

    “Let me cut your hair!” Kid yelled over the laughter, smiling at the bright, happy noises the child made while shaking their head side to side. 

    “I wohohohohont!” Crona had a surprising amount of fight in them. They cried out as Kid moved to vibrating his hands into their ribs. 

    Kid began to count Crona’s ribs, moving up to wiggle mercilessly into their underarms, drawing a squeal from the child. 

    “Stohohohohohop! KihihihihIHIHIHID!” They were nearly cackling. Kid fluttered his fingers down to their hips and drilled in.

    “Let me cut your hair!” He called, nearly laughing himself at the smile on the normally closed-off child. 

    “NEHEHEHEVER!!” they pushed out, laughing at the top of their lungs and arching their spine. 

    Kid started to get bold, leaning down and nibbling on the child’s neck, receiving frantic snickering. He then blew a massing raspberry, receiving a squeal and some bubbly, hiccupy laughter. 

    “RAGNAROHOHOK! HEHEHEHELP!” Crona cried. Suddenly, Kid was on his back beside Crona, Ragnarok’s black goop holding him to the floor by his wrists and ankles, arms above his head. 

    “Hey!” He yelled, looking over to Crona in a panic as the child caught their breath. They were still giggling when they rose to their feet. Then, Kid saw it, the tinge of crazy in Crona’s eyes. “Oh no…”

    “That wasn’t very nice, you know.” They almost sounded teasy, “It’s not nice to be not nice.”

    “Crona, let me up.” Kid placed some authority into his voice, however, it was clear that it had been blatantly ignored when Crona straddled Kid’s thighs.

    “I should probably teach you not to be mean.” Crona smiled viciously. 

    “Crona…” Kid gulped, “What are you doing?”

    “Are you ticklish, Kid?”

    The air stood still for a moment as the shinigami became very well-aware of how they were still held down. 

    “No.” His hesitation was far too long.

    “Lying isn’t nice either.” 

    “Crona, wait! NOHOHOHO!” A well placed dig to the ribs had Kid squealing in seconds. 

    Crona was surprisingly good at this, for someone who had had the life they had. They knew just how to attack, and while they didn’t tease much, it was clear they didn’t need to. They counted Kid’s ribs, drilled into his underarms, fluttered gently over his neck and collarbone only to leap to his hips and squeeze mercilessly. Kid was hysterical.

    “Crohohohonahaha! PleheHEHEHEASE! STOHOHOhohohop! GAHAHAHAhahahahahaha!” HE begged, cried, and squirmed frantically.

    “Not yet.” Crona stated calmly, giving Kid a break and slowly rolling up his shirt to expose his belly, sides, and ribs. Kid shivered and gulped in air.

    Kid couldn’t even protest before Crona was back at it, clawing gently into his belly and kneading his sides, sending the shinigami into bright cackles.

    “Crohohohonaha! Stohohohohop ihihihihit! Quihihihit!” He scrambled desperately to get away, kicking as best he could. 

    “Will you promise to leave my hair alone?” Crona questioned seriously.

    “Buhuhuhut it ihihisn’t eheheven!” He cied. 

    The raspberry was wet, loud, and right above his belly button. 

    Kid’s laughter went silent for a moment, kicking and screaming in laughter ensuing only moments after, the cycle continuing with multiple raspberries until he finally conceded. “FIHIHIHIHINE! IHIHIHI’LL LEHEHEAVE IHIT!”

    Crona finally stopped, releasing Kid and hoping off. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.”

    Kid panted heavily on the floor, pulling his shirt down and hugging his stomach. “You know,” he began, sitting up, “I’m the revenge type.”

    He caught Crona’s wrist and dragged them down, Ragnarok yelling, and held the child to his chest and drilled into their sides. Crona cried out and started laughing again, kicking wildly and pushing on his wrists.

   

    “Nohohohohoho!” Crona giggled, head thrown back against kid’s shoulder as they laughed. Ragnarok burst out laughing as well, leaning back and digging into Kid’s sides. 

    The three of them rolled around laughing and tickling each other for about an hour before they tired themselves out, ending up passing out against each others shoulders leaning on one of the walls.

    Crona may have been starting to settle in now. 

[queenmaracasandlove]

You’re My Best (Sex) Friend Series - Roger Taylor x F!Reader - Part I

Word Count: +/- 2500

Summary: Roger and Y/N are sex friends and everything is fine until they realize that maybe it could be something more. Can be read as Roger x Reader or Ben!Roger x Reader, help yourself. 

Warning: Mentions of sex and some fluff

A/N: So this was supposed to be only an OS but I really liked the story so it’s going to be a mini-series. As of now I’m planning on it being made of five to six parts. I would love to know what you think about it! Also I’ve never done that before but would you be interested in a taglist? 

MASTERLIST

PART II PART III PART IV PART V

Roger and Y/N were hooking up occasionally. It was nothing serious and was quite convenient for the both of them. Y/N did not want to settle down but she did not want to wake up next to a new person every other day. As for Roger he knew he could trust Y/N and it was quite pleasing to share intimate moments with someone he knew rather than a groupie, at least from time to time. Of course sex between them was also extremely satisfactory. Y/N was familiar with the band for a few years now, she had worked in a pub where they spent a lot of time when they were still starting up. Things had changed quite a bit and they had just finished recording their fourth album.

Roger had phoned Y/N so she would come at his place and listen to the new songs. She had come to some recording session but he knew she was really excited about the final product. She was genuinely passionate about their work and always gave an honest opinion which he highly valued. They had listened to the complete album and watched two movies before casually ending up bonking, the music playing once again in the background. Y/N was riding Roger and finally came for the second time of the afternoon. She was never disappointed and it wasn’t long before the drummer finished himself off on her stomach.

“Oh that was good” Roger said

“Agreed” Y/N said

There was something special between the two of them. After all this time they knew how to please each other and they were rarely disappointed. But it never felt mechanical on the contrary, it was a true exchange between the two of them.  

“I really like the song John wrote, it’s catchy” Y/N said “Can you put it back while I’m taking a shower?”

Y/N very much needed to clean herself and even though Roger hated that song he owed her at least that for what had just happened. He got up and did as she wished, turning up the volume so she could hear the music from the bathroom and lit a cigarette. He could hear her humming the song, she did not know the words of course but she was already familiar with the melody.

The main reason why he did not like the song was because he thought it did not belong in a rock band’s repertoire but also and mainly just to bother his bandmates, especially Deacy. The song was joyful and light and that was not exactly what he had in mind for their sound.  Of course he was happy that the bassist had found everything he needed but they did not bloody need to sing “happy at home” like an anthem.

All he had at home was an old sofa, a broken bed, his drum-kit in a corner and something that looked like a kitchen. Since he moved here he had make zero effort to make the place his own or personality. He spent most of this time on tour, recording or partying and he did not see the interest. There was absolutely no sunshine and the place where he was happy was definitely on the stage doing what he was good at. He looked by the window and saw the streets of London, almost empty, clearly the whole neighbourhood could hear the music blasting from his flat but he did not care.

Y/N came out of the bathroom in a towel, Roger turned down the music and looked at her. She was quite beautiful, the street light glowing on her wet skin. She smiled at him while trying to gather her clothes.

“Do you want to sleep here?” he heard himself ask “It’s quite late”

“Well… Why not. I cannot really afford a taxi and I am not walking for an hour and half right now. Thanks”

It was the first time that she would stay for the night. It was not like they had never spend time together. She would often come to see them rehearse or even spend the afternoon at his place. She had even helped him when he had his shop with Freddie. But never had they shared a bed together for something else than sex and that felt odd somehow. There was an intimacy that was completely different from what they had experienced before.

Y/N did not seem to have anything to say about it and simply went into the bedroom. She grabbed one of Roger’s shirt and boxer before going into bed.

“I’m so glad we had sex on the couch and not on this bloody thing, you should really invest that new money in a mattress Rog’” she complained jumping on it a little

For one second Roger was about to ask her if she wanted him to sleep and the couch but he quickly realised how stupid that question was. They just had slept together, twice. They also probably had fell asleep together at some point, but this felt, different. She looked good, in his clothes. She seemed to be comfortable and although quite sleepy still had a smile on her face. She was flipping through the book on his bedside table.

“Is it good ?” she asked before looking at him “Rog’ are you okay?”

Roger was completely lost in thought, leaning against the door frame. Y/N looked suddenly worried. She was not used to see him speechless. She paused and felt suddenly uncomfortable. Maybe he did not really want her to stay. She was been surprised but very happy about him asking. The idea of walking by herself in the streets of London at such an hour was not very reassuring and she could take the tube early in the morning. She usually did not stay that long but they had watched a film and then another one before getting down to business. The time had flied as they spent a particularly good afternoon together.

“I can go home if you want me to” she said

“No… No I want you to stay. Sorry I’m just knackered” he replied

He went back to the living room, put his underwear back on, turned off the music and the light before coming back into the bedroom. Y/N was already under the blanket and her eyes were closed. She did not want to be any burden and silently waited for him to join her. He closed the door and lay down next to her. She could feel the heat of his body from afar and he knew it was quite cold in the room, he never put any heating on. The band might have been successful and the money was finally slowly coming in although he had already spent most of it.

Roger’s arms slowly reached out for Y/N’s body and brought her closer to him. She did not say anything and waited a few seconds before placing her face next to his chest. Roger had had numerous girls in his bed and many of them had done the same thing before Y/N but it felt different. Never he had shivered because of the feeling of one these girls’ cheeks on his bare skin.

He had trouble falling asleep but it was not the case of Y/N, he could feel how calm she was and her slow breath on his torso. She looked so peaceful, so calm. She had a really outgoing personality, always smiling or talking. She was silent and there was something almost sad in her face as she was asleep. One of her hand moved as it grabbed Roger’s side. Her little frown disappeared and he found her incredibly cute.

When Roger woke up he was alone in bed. He sighed, he would have like to say goodbye to Y/N but she had probably gone back to her place. Once again he was alone in his flat with nothing to do. He got up to pee and smelt something coming out of the kitchen, now that he was little more awake he could swear someone was singing. He quickly went to the bathroom before following the little tune.

It was Y/N, she was humming one of Queen’s song. She was really into their music but she did not want it say it too much not to be taken for a groupie. Her voice was beautiful, almost technically perfect and so pleasing to the ear. He was really impressed by how effortless it sounded. Roger knew that it was her favourite song, she was so excited the first time she had heard it. He did not want to stop her, enjoying the moment. She was cooking breakfast and it smelt really good. It was not often that Roger would cook for himself although he wondered how she had found anything to make breakfast with. His stomach betrayed him as it started rumbling and Y/N noticed him.

“Hello gorgeous” Y/N said, smiling and taking care of the scrambled eggs, “Did you sleep well?”

“You realise this is my place right?” Roger asked, amused by her attitude. “But yes I did”

“Great! Now time for breakfast. I’m starving !”

“Where did you find the food?” he asked

Suddenly an embarrassed smirk appeared on Y/N’s face as she finished setting the table.

“I may have taken the fiver that was on the table” she said “Sorry”

“That’s okay” he said “Thank you for making breakfast”

He sat next to her and started eating. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t anything fancy but he could tell it had been made with attention and that’s all that mattered. She jumped on the food and ate with eagerness. He had noticed how she had lost some weight when his hands where on her bare ribs yesterday. Nothing dramatic and none of his business but he started to wonder why it was so.

“How’s work?” he asked

This is how they had met. Y/N was working in the pub right next where his band used to rehearse. It was her first job moving in London town and they had become rather close altogether. One night after work they had slept together, just for fun. He was really surprised by how the next time they had seen each other everything was back to normal. She did not act like nothing had happened but at the same time she never considered it for something more than what it was. It was the first time that something like that had happened to him and he could still remember the kind of relief he felt because already at that time Y/N was important to him. Without thinking too much about it, it had became casual. 

The pub she was working at became the place they would go for a beer most of the time but after their first album they almost never were in that part of the city and they came less and less. In fact, Y/N had became part of their inner circle and she was invited to big and small parties by the members of the group quite often.

“Well… no more work” she just replied

“What?”

Roger was really surprised. She had not say anything about it.

“Well… Apparently I was not needed anymore, had to make some cuts in the expenses” she replied, shrugging her shoulders

“But you were pouring your heart in that freaking job!’ Roger almost screamed

He was angry for her. He knew that being a waitress was not Y/N’s dream but he also knew that she was very good at it and that she was always doing her best. The idea of her being fired like a piece of trash was very displeasing.

“It’s okay Rog’, it was probably time for me to go and do what I came to London for”

“Are you finally going to audition for some musicals?” he asked

“You remember?”

“Of course. You almost made me crazy singing that Funny Girl song all the time last year”

She was so happy he remembered that. She did not talk about it a lot because she was so insecure about her skills. It was true though, she had come to London to pursue her dream of an artistic career. Unfortunately it was crazy expensive to live in this city and the few roles she was able to get were not paying the rent and she had taken more and more hours at the pub, leaving her dream behind her. Blood started rushing through her face just thinking about Roger hearing her singing but just stuck her tongue out.

“At least I don’t sing songs about me fucking cars”

“What did you just say?”

“I’m just saying I love the melody Rog’ but the lyrics… Really?”

She wasn’t mean at all, she was playful and was, per usual, great at changing the subject when she felt embarrassed. She was so amused by the look on his face, he was clearly upset but not angry.

“I mean… did you really locked yourself in a cupboard so that everybody could hear you sing that you got a feel for your automobile on a B-side? I know you’re used to being extra but...”

Y/N couldn’t resist but laugh just thinking about the whole thing and she started running as soon as she saw Roger spreading his arms towards her to get revenge. The place was not that big but she tried to lock herself up in the bathroom, unfortunately Roger was much faster than her and soon enough his arms were around her waist.

“What exactly is wrong with my song eh?” he asked starting to tickle her ribs

“You’re saying you’re in love with a car Roger. Do I really need to explain what’s wrong with it?”

She burst into laughter as the tickling became more intense. She tried to respond to the attack but he was much stronger than her. He knew she was partly joking because he had seen her bobbing her head to the tune yesterday as she was listening to the record for the first time.

“How the fuck do you know about the cupboard?” he asked suddenly realising that he never told her about it while stopping the fight

“I had Freddie on the phone the other day and he told me” she answered, finally able to breeze

Roger let go of Y/N and went back to breakfast. She raised her eyebrows but joined him, after all the fight was not going to last for hours. It was stupid but Roger had felt weird knowing that Y/N had called Freddie. Somehow he had started thinking that she was closer to him than she was with his friends but maybe he was wrong. They kept talking about a few things and Y/N eventually decided to go back to her place. She left a delicate kiss on Roger’s cheek as she always did before saying goodbye.

Roger closed the door, a smile on his face before looking behind him, to the very empty flat. Once again he was alone. He thought that it was crazy how someone as little as Y/N could fill in so much space. He was left with his feelings and all he knew for sure was that he wanted to see her again very soon and not just for a booty call.

[pinktatertots99]

oh raven

i’m booooored and i need something to write. based off the song oh raven (won’t you sing me a happy song?)

synops: got half raven half human species liang who lives with chemist qi. who wants something from this pretty raven.

_______

he could hear it again. despite the scratchings of his pen he could continue hearing that disjointed song outside his window. he sighed, can’t concentrate on this no matter how much he tried. pushing out of his chair he moved to the window, unhinging it and opening both doors.

“oi do you-” he paused, noticing what was, no, who was singing to him was both standing a ways from the window, and had the look of a human, arms replaced with wings and only thing covering them were a tank top and loose looking pants. peach colored eyes illuminating more then the moon in the night sky as they looked at qi with surprise and curiosity.

........

qi could feel the exhaustion in his eyes as he wrote down his next prescription to send out. scratching his pen harder as the ink slowly faded till his writing became dents in the paper.

sighing he sat back with his head tilted up and eyes closed, feeling two feather covered wings and long raven hair dripping down his face. “need something?” they asked as qi petted that silky long hair, looking up to see peach match to his magenta eyes.

he just had to open that window and keep it open for this guy to walk in. it’s been...almost a month now and he’s grown used to him, getting him to confess his name and seeming to mostly stay inside. qi found it rather cute in a way.

he smiled and sighed. “pen just ran out.” he mumbled. “think it’s just getting old it can’t hold any ink.” he felt the other let go, looking he could see the other pluck a feather out with a muffled grunt, holding out his raven feather to the chemist. he chuckled lightly as he took it. “your too much liang.” he petted him lightly, liang nuzzling into it like a bird would.

moving away he started writing again, hearing the clawed feet of liang walking to the window. “gonna go sing?” qi asked as liang unhinged the window. “heh, yeah.” qi answered himself, looking over a bit. “ey liang,” he started, liang looking back as a foot was on the window sill, looking at him curiously.

“can ya maybe, sing something a little happy?” he asked with a smile. liang looked surprised and looked back with a light blush on his face that was illuminated by the moon. “...i’ll...do my best.” he stated as he swooped out. 

qi shook his head amused as he continued writing. he knew the younger couldn’t exactly do one well, but qi wanted to give him something to work on. he already felt bad he was cooped inside for so long, something like singing a different song might help him. ...but what does he know?

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

the broken tune of his singing echoed over the ocean as liang sat on the tallest rock pillar, located close to the mountain of the beach as the wind blew lightly. his hair flowing with it lightly, till suddenly it flew a bit harder by an extra gust causing him to pause.

“why even continue with this?” he heard that young light voice ask. looking back he found the pale skinned younger with dark colored eyes, turquoise hair that matched his wings whilst wearing a short sleeved kimono. he rolled his eyes at him. “i find it entertaining.”

“the noise or the trash?” he asked sarcastically, gaining a glare from the other. “i don’t have anything else to do.”

“you can do anything instead of being caged. or garble out...whatever your doing.”

“singing.”

“...not funny.”

“and your to talk!?” upa rolled his eyes as he landed close to liang. “anyways, whatever your doing in either category is going to be hazardous.” liang rose a brow. “hazardous? ...you do know the situation right?”

“and apparently you don’t?”

“...huh?”

===============

“man, such a slow progress on your work chemist.” qi rested his palm on his hand as he laid his shoulder on his desk, looking bored-ly at the pig headed giant in robes infront of him holding his medicine. “takes time.”

“sure your not just lazing around?”

“oh we both know i’m lazy-”

“maybe lazing with someone?~”

he was thankful he could pull of his poker face to not feel the slightest unsettled by that notion. “do i look the type?” the giant hummed as he handed the basket to one of his lackey’s. “maybe not you...that bird-y on the other hand though~...”

at that he felt a shiver up his spine. he thought how? but this was hachiman he was talking bout, of course someone would be there to report to him on anything from his progress to whoever was around. “...so ya gonna keep small talking or what?”

hachiman chuckled. “those kind of beauties sell well in the markets. and sell well, we’re talking enough for ya to get an upgrade to this shack of yours...if your willing to take a gamble at it~.”

something was boiling inside of him as he kept the cool face, relieving a sigh. “well, is convincing. ...buuut, i’mma afraid he’s not for bargaining. sides, simple life’s a nice life ain’t it?”

the room fell silent as the two sat in the room. hachiman slowly shaking, which slowly lead to him giving out giggles, to full blown laughter. qi could feel his hair prick up at it. “o-oh-hahahaha r-right haha of course! ahahhahaha well then, i suppose i-i’ll just take ya word for it hahaha!” qi could feel the scary irony of it as hachiman rose to sit up. “well, i’ll still give you some sorta extra payment atleast.”

“if ya take him i’m quitting this damn business.” the room fell quieter like before, hachiman slowly looking back. “...oh yeah?”

_______________________

“...” liang brought his legs closer to his chest as upa finished his explanation. “...didn’t even notice.”

“of course not, your head’s too high in the clouds. despite you not even flying.” he stated as liang sighed, something inside felt...as if something wasn’t right. “i dunno...something bout him, even then, didn’t feel like it.”

“...whatever you feel then, be careful with it.” upa stated as both sat up. “if your going back to him, i have some spare time.”

“is that what you call it now?” upa flapped his wing to the other with a pout as liang blew turquoise feathers from his face.

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

“you can instantly tell what kind of person he is with this shab of a living place.”

“...upa, we came from a species that made nests.”

“that was the past. here in the present it’s different.” liang rolled his eye, catching the door slightly ajar. perking his head he moved to it, opening it slowly open. “now be somewhat...decent when y-...” both paused as their eyes widened to the hastely destroyed inside, all going back to the non-moving body in the pool of blood.

the raven barely heard upa’s fast swooping of wings and “i’m getting help!” as he walked slowly to the body on the floor, lowering to his knees as he gently put the tip of his wing to the stragily hair.

“...did...i die?” he asked suddenly, catching the other off guard as qi coughed. “wings...thought i was...seein an angel....i mean...i’m not wrong right?” he chuckled and coughed as liang looked over his bruised and crumpled stature. “...why?”

“...” qi looked away despite the small smile on his face. “it’s what i get...for thinking i could...talk back and protect ya.” liang’s frown deepened as he laid onto the other. “dummy. don’t make this in vain then.”

“heh...that’ll be the day...ya try singing...a ha...ppy...son...g”

_______________

“qi?” qi opened his eyes lightly, feeling the feathered hug and nestled head on his shoulder. it wasn’t some dream alright, something he reminded himself alot ironically. “yeah?”

“...i can stay here, right?”

“course ya can. such a silly question from a birdy like ya heh.” he chuckled lightly as he got a light wap to his chest by the wing’s tip. “it’s no bother?”

“why’dya be a bother? maybe i like having a cutie like ya around~.” he teased, feeling liang hug him tighter like he was flustered. “w-...well, if it means your okay with this, then i’ll stay.”

“...think i’d like that.” qi commented, slowly closing his eyes. “sides, i get a feathery blanket too...”

_________________

such an unfamiliar sound echoed in qi’s head, slowly feeling it shed light inside and from the outside as he opened his eyes. facing him was the unfamiliar roof. right...that memory...how funny in a way he thought. his ears registered the noise that awoken him, was such a beautiful tune. turning his head his magenta eyes widened as he found the raven singing it, head ducked with his locks hiding his face.

“...man...do i have to almost die to help ya?” qi joked, gaining the tear stained peach eyes that were widened in shock. without any warning qi felt the weight of him almost falling onto him, barely saved with liang keeping a centimeter or two away to prevent it.

“oi oi oi lets try not to kill me twice ehehe.” he chuckled lightly as liang held him tighter. smiling he held him in reply. “sorry, ya had to see that eheh.”

“you tried...protecting me...it’s okay.” liang choked out as qi sighed. “yeah...didn’t do too many wonders though.”

“so, the chief said we’d be okay in the safe house few towns dow-” both looked to see the wide eyed upa. “...and your sure he’s not tra-”

“upa!”

“wha-new friend? wait safe house-officer- huh?”

“they have a lead on your boss.” upa stated, causing the other to freeze up a bit. “...seriously?”

“do i look like a kidder?”

“...well, the kid part maybe but more of a kill joy-” qi shrieked at the fast swoop the younger attempted only to be stopped by liang. “UPAAA PLEASE!”

“be lucky you have a shield of raven feathers trash.” he threatened at the elder, landing on his feet as he moved to leave the room. sighing liang looked to qi who was currently trying not to laugh. “man, gotta something there huh?” he asked, only to get a light bonk of a wing. “atagonize him long enough and he will.”

“eheh, well, you ready regardless for this?” he asked, seeing the ruffle of feathers as liang gave a shy nod. “great, now, can i hear that song again please~?”

[by-endurance--we-conquer]

Thoughts from the Leadville 100

I wasn’t feeling very good the day before. Even Joy later admitted, “you didn’t look very good.” The night before I wrote her phone number on the back of my race plate because I thought there was a good chance I would need it.

We stayed in an AirBnB less than a mile from the start. That eliminated a lot of race morning stress. Worked great.

Before I knew it we were rolling down 6th St. About 37 degrees at the start. I think it was colder in 2015. The early miles are definitely crowded. It was only a matter of time before I was off my bike due to backlog on St. Kevin’s.

One thing that immediately struck me was how dry and dusty the course was. Come to find out many veterans of the race said this was the dustiest they’d ever seen it.

My biggest scare off the race came, of course, on the Poweline descent. This twisty, turny, rocky, sandy part of the trail is full of big washouts. I’m not sure exactly what happened but about half way down I found myself completely sideways. I managed to unclip and get a foot down. If I hadn’t I would have went down hard. Making it to the bottom of Powerline always provides a sense of relief.

As we approached Twin Lakes (mile 40) I was feeling pretty good. In the days leading up to the race I made the decision to go with bottles over hydration. I just didn’t want to carry that weight on my shoulders. Climbing at 10,000 ft is hard enough! So I carried 2 bottles on the bike and 1 small bottle in my back. This ended up working great the whole race. I think I was able to keep track of how much I was drinking better. Thankfully, unlike hundreds of others I didn’t lose any bottles over the rocky sections.

Now on to Columbine. The longest climb at over 10 miles and the high point of the race at 12,500ft. Like 2015 I felt great up the switchbacks and rideable part of the climb. This is where the race really starts to take a toll on people. Several were walking there bikes or hunched over on the side of the trail. I’d guess that I passed close to 50 riders going up. The goat trail was more frustrating this year. This section is hard to bike so it’s lots of hike a bike. I was a little frustrated because people were hiking soooo slow and because it’s 2 way traffic on rocky terrain it’s really hard to pass.

I made it to the top, crushed some chips and bananas at the aid station and then headed down. With the dry, dusty conditions I had to be extra careful on the descent but I successfully stayed upright and made it back to Twin Lakes (mile 60). Only problem- I was behind 12 hour pace by over 15 minutes. Not good and a little demoralizing knowing the race doesn’t get any easier.

I kept my head down and just kept pedaling. Twin Lakes to Pipeline is tough. Not lots of climbing but it gets hot and exposed here. It was a sunny day and trust me the sun feels much hotter at 10k ft. Good news is I was feeling good. So far nutrition and hydration were on point. But I was still considerably behind my 2015 time and 12 hour pace as I came into Pipeline at mile 75. There I had a bottle of Coke in my drop back. The volunteer said, “you know we have cold Coke over there.” I took him up on some of that too. I had the bottle there because in 2015 they had run out of Coke prior to my arrival. Yes, I love Coke but only in the latter miles of big endurance events.

Next up get to the real crux of the race- the 3 mile Powerline climb. Also the site of my epic bonk in 2015 that almost made me throw my bike into the woods and give up endurance sports for good 😆 Ok, maybe it wasn’t that bad but you better believe it was in the back of mind all day.

At mile 78, just a few miles from Powerline, something great happened. On the side of the road a group of beautiful trail angels were passing out ice, cold cans of Coke. It was magical and came at the absolute most perfect time.

There’s a part of Powerline (see pic) that almost everyone hike a bikes. That’s were my blow up started last time. Thankfully this part and really all of Powerline was fairly uneventful for me. I didn’t have stop to catch my breath or get my heart rate out of the 170’s like in 2015. I rode so much more this time round. According to Strava I was close to 40 minutes faster on this 4 mile section than in ‘15. Redemption! Better yet if my math was correct I was getting some time back to 12 hour pace.

The last 25 miles of the race I really laid it all on the line. All day I watched my heart rate closely in order to avoid the blow up. Now it was time to forget that. If I wanted the sub 12 hour finish I was going to need to ride aggressive and hard.

I felt really good on the 4 mile road climb up to Carter. This is a tough climb that seems to go on forever, but I rode strong and even stayed out of my easiest gear for most of it.

Carter aid station was the first time in a long time that I thought sub 12 was possible again. I had battled back to get on the right side of that number but I still needed to push the pace. The St. Kevin’s descent is, like many of the other descents, super rocky. I was relieved to get to the bottom at one piece. There’s always some really bad crashes in this race and it’s easy to understand why. This makes me be a little extra cautious because I don’t need to end up wrapped around a tree.

Back on the forest service dirt road a rider pulled up alongside and nervously asked, “dude, are we going to make it?” All I remember saying is we had the time but we needed to ride hard. Less than 45 minutes to ride approx. 5 miles that contained some tough sections. Over those next few miles we worked together each taking pulls. We definitely helped each other out.

It may be the Leadville 100 but it’s really 103.5. As a rookie in ‘15 I’m glad I knew this. I know many are caught off guard. And guess what? Those final 3.5 miles are far from easy. There’s a rocky, sandy section that serves as a service road alongside the railroad track. Then there’s the “Boulevard” which is a long gravel climb. Needless to say I kept hammering and kept a close eye on my watch.

Finally I hit pavement and after a brief glance at my watch I knew I had the sub 12. The guy I had been riding with and I exchanged a big high five. Heading up 6th St. towards the finish was just as sweet this time as last. It’s like an Ironman finish line. Being in the final minutes makes the crowd even more amped up. I hit the red carpet and crossed the line at 11:51:55. 8 minutes to spare. I managed to negative split the course which is not all that uncommon here but it’s not easy either.

So, 2 Leadville 100 finishes just minutes apart but they felt like entirely different races. This year I got behind early but that might not have been the worst thing to happen. I think that might be the reason I had some matches to burn at the end. I also handled nutrition and hydration better this time around. With the way I rode those last miles I was pretty destroyed at the end (and for a few hours after). My Specialized Epic performed flawlessly. One mechanical or some bad luck and it could easily end the day.

This race has a big reputation for being something special. Couldn’t agree more. Now X 2.

1083rd of 1538 starters

[mousetaur]

On the Beauty of Oysters

(I wrote two Scotty/Keenser fics in one day, send help)

Lieutenant Keenser gets a new officer delivered to him at Delta Vega. And he finds himself becoming quite enchanted by the loud-mouthed, rude, brilliant engineer. 

(Roylans are colourblind, if you are wondering why Scotty’s hair is green)

Read also on AO3  Machinery hummed around the run-down work station. Steam puffed out of motors and dreamily leaked off of surfaces. A clanging echoed from a particular machine. It stopped and a four-foot-tall craggy faced alien popped out. Lieutenant Keenser popped out and turned a switch on a nearby panel. The machine he had been working on hummed to life and he made a satisfied noise. Not that there was anyone around to hear it. 

When he had first been posted to Delta Vega, there had been a whole team of engineers, along with a medic, a cook and a few scientists. Over time, various individual's work had been completed, people were promoted, transferred or left for other reasons. Eventually it was just Keenser, monitoring the outpost, maintaining equipment and sending regular updates. He missed having other people around, not least because there was too much equipment for one engineer to handle. It frustrated him that some were falling into disrepair and most everything was dusty because he just didn't have time. And while he'd always been a solitary person, even on Royla, he'd never spent such a prolonged period of time without contact with another living thing. Even the supply shipments that came every two months were delivered by drone.He must have been alone for almost a year by the time an unexpected knocking came the door. As he slowly made his way to the door, the knocking became an incessant banging that worried him. The entry pad on the outside had been broken for some time, so whoever it was must have been stranded in the ice and wind. He rushed down and opened the door.  

"About bloody time, I'm freezing ma arse off out here. " came a woollen voice from inside a hat. The officer shuffled inside, followed by a well laden hover dolly with more supplies than Keenser was used to. The hat was pulled up, revealing a full grey human face. Humans weren't normally this grey, ordinarily it was just their lips, suggesting that this human had changed colour due to the cold. He always found it interesting how easily humans changed colour, especially since he found out it was unintentional. Roylans changed colour to suit their mood but they were generally aware they were doing it, and it took longer than a few seconds for a full facial flush like embarrassment on humans.

"I tried using the door pad," said the human. He had a Starfleet duffel bag over one shoulder. "But the bloody thing shocked me." Keenser nodded. He felt it might be appropriate to speak now. It had been a while since he'd needed to, he hoped he could still form humanoid sounds. Roylans didn't have vocal cords in the traditional sense. "Broken." He managed to grunt out. The flushed man gave him a condescending look. "Broken, aye. Shocked I am." It had been so long since he'd even heard sarcasm, Keenser couldn't bring himself to be annoyed by it. "Look here, I'm meant to report to a Lieutenant Keenser. Can you take me to him?" He asked. Keenser nodded, pointing towards himself. The gesture was either not understood or ignored.   "Me." He grunted. "You?" "Keenser." "You're Lieutenant Keenser?" "Yes."   The man rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, a gesture Keenser had become familiar with in his time in Starfleet.   "Well they told me you're the man in charge so here." He stuffed his hand in his pocket as he spoke and handed Keenser a memory drive. Presumably it held information on why Keenser had suddenly been sent a colleague.  

"So how many other are stationed?" Asked Scotty as they wandered back down the corridor. Clearly no one had briefed him on Delta Vega. Perhaps that's how they got him to agree. Tired of talking, Keenser just shook his head and hoped the gesture would be understood this time.   "So, it's just the two of us in this Godforsaken hole?" "Yes." He managed to reply. He felt a bit sorry for the officer. He wasn't good at human ages, but he guessed from his smooth skin and lack of facial hair that he was a young man. Perhaps just graduated. Probably a mono-syllabic, inexpressive alien was not the most exciting companion for a young man. No matter. In all ways except his work, Keenser was used to disappointing people.  "Do you ever say more than one word at a time?" "Rare."   "Brilliant." 

Keenser set the new recruit, Scotty, to work on a basic machine. One he knew wouldn't matter if it was broken, just in case Starfleet had decided to send him a hopeless mechanic. He'd heard that every now and then some high-ranking official's kid got through on an easy course and then left with no real skills. He went to his office, a storage cupboard he'd put a computer in, and looked at the memory drive. NAME: MONTGOMERY SCOTT RANK: PETTY OFFICER HOMEWORLD: EARTH Montgomery Scott had graduated top of his class and had been the Academic aide to Admiral Jonathan Archer's Advanced Relativistic Mechanic but had sent the Admiral's prized beagle through a warp pad and the pet had been lost. He was since demoted and sent to this outpost. He was not as young as Keenser first thought. Further reading showed that Scotty had a history of struggles with authority but had been showed himself to be a brilliant mind and touch. Well, how fortunate for Keenser that he now had one of the best up and coming engineers in Starfleet all because of a beagle.

He hopped down from the shelf he used as a chair and wandered back into the main work station where he had left Scotty. Only to discover Scotty was not there. This was annoying. However, when he checked the machine, he saw that Scotty had not only fixed it, but had adjusted it slightly in a way that should have increased fuel economy and energy output. He soon located the man by the swears coming from behind a machine. It was the hot water generator to the showers, which had shut down a long time ago. Keenser didn't really require hot water though, so he simply bathed in cold water. There was a part missing, an old part that he hadn't bothered requesting because he didn't have time to fix it. He knocked on the metal belly of the cylinder. "Oh, aye, I fixed that doodad, I don't see why you needed me to really, practically useless. Then I was freezing so I thought I'd have a warm shower. Bloody cold water came out. So I came round here to give her a squiz. She's missing a part but I should be able to reroute the AH!" A shocking sound came out just before the scream. "I'm alright. Ah, there we are." The cylinder shuddered to life, clinking and bonking. Scotty shuffled himself out and smiled proudly.   "Explain." Demanded Keenser.   "What?" "Reroute. Explain." Scotty looked shocked at the command but explained it anyway. Of course. If only Keeenser had had time. The internal bladders that regulated his emotions let out an impressed smell. Not that a human would probably even notice it.   "No shower. Come." He grunted, waving his arm and leading Scotty to other neglected machines. The rest of the day was dedicated to getting some heaters back online, food dehydrators working and other such basics that Keenser hadn't needed but Scotty certainly would.

Over the next week, almost everything in the work station had been looked at, if not properly cared for. Working with Scotty was surprisingly easy. While the green-haired man was very talkative, he knew his stuff. All Keenser had to do was vaguely gesture to a machine and Scotty would figure out what he wanted him to do. Or he would hand Keenser a tool just as the Roylan was thinking about it. It was as though they had been working together all their lives. He liked the way Scotty would hum to himself, or mutter aloud about things he was working on. In his spare time, the Scotsman (Keenser had found this out in an unprompted life story one afternoon) would note down calculations in regards to his transwarp theorem. A few times Keenser edited these formulas, only to be yelled at for his troubles until Scotty had relooked at the edits and thanked him for his contribution. There was a lot of that about Scotty. He seemed rough, yelling and storming around when he didn't get his way. But he respected Keenser's intelligence and was often kind. Keenser had gotten used to climbing up to get things from shelves he couldn't reach but Scotty had built him a small set of portable steps.   "One day you'll fall and crack your head and I'll have no clue how to fix it." Was his explanation. Keenser very much doubted that a fall from such a short height would crack any part of his shell open, but he appreciated the sentiment.  

A while later, after their evening meal which they ate together, Scotty had complained about a lack of alcohol.   "All I want, right, is a nice whiskey. There's plenty o' ice around to put in it, just a drop would help. I'm sick o' bloody protein nibs and bad coffee. A drop o' nice whiskey in ma coffee would perk me up no end."   Keenser had hopped out of his seat and waddled away to his storage locker. He'd brought it with him, then forgotten about it. Now seemed as good a time as any to break it out. He returned and handed the bottle over to Scotty. The green-haired man whistled. "How'd you get this? This is blimmin' expensive. Supposedly the best stuff in the Galaxy." Keenser just shrugged. "Gift."   "What, someone just gave you the most expensive whiskey in the Galaxy as what, a birthday present?" Keenser shrugged again. While he found the story humorous, not everyone he told had. He decided how he came about the alcohol wasn't important. Scotty poured them both a glass and it was quite enjoyable. Scotty went on about whiskey, and Scotland, and how to tell a good whiskey and Keenser listened quite happily.  

Chap Two on AO3

[wannawrite]

Steal My Girl

who?: Wanna One’s Kang Daniel, Ong Seongwoo genre: 🌺 type: bullet point blog navigator. • enemies to lovers AU • but you never get to love Daniel because ‘Seongwoo is one slick bih’ - Raelynn dedicated to my baby, Rae @lalisalsa , thank you for requesting this! this was an...interesting request to work on.💖 also, this is kind of crack just saying...and my Directioner ass set a 1D inspired title I’m sobbing. Also dedicated to Dain, @pinksausageduo , I binge read all of her enemies to lovers! to get inspired and understand this concept better, so thank you for fuelling me with your quality content. ILY💕

- Admin L

disclaimer: pictures do not belong to me and all credit goes to their original owners

• ‘MY NEW OTP!’ imessedupsorry

• ‘2 months and they’ll be together.’ • ‘I’ll say 5 months.’ • in reality, you had to drag a begrudging Daniel into the library while the hallways filled themselves with whispers • ‘uhh Daniel...where’s all your books and notes?’ • why did you even ask......of course, he’s never going to arrive to class with materials to work • his cheeky grin falls when you fish out your own history notebook and textbook, laying out all your writing materials including your art markers • ‘I just don’t understand,’ he huffs, crossing his arms. ‘I’m doing fine on my own. I don’t need to be tutored, I can do this.’ • you got a tip-off: if you offer Daniel jellies, he will oblige • ‘Do you want to attend today’s class?’ • ‘...no?’ • you smiled brightly, packing up your things. ‘Okay! See you tomorrow then, take care!’ • confused, he reached out and grabbed the sleeve of your uniform. ‘Seriously?’ • you nodded, not sarcastically before bidding him goodbye again and making your way off, scribbling down to bring jellies the next day • it shocked you when Daniel was the one to text you first about his tutoring classes, maybe it warmed your heart a little • so this continued on. You would meet him after school every Wednesday, Thursday and Monday. Occasionally, he would call you to meet at his place on weekends • sometimes he even texted you out of the blue and the conversations that carried on after that were certainly not about history • he was actually a sweet guy • you two greeted each other in school and sat together at times • on the day of finals, Daniel kissed your check and hugged you tight before entering the exam hall. ‘I’ll make sure you get that $15 a-and...I’ll make you proud.’ • BLUSH BLUSH BLUSHING •  your face was burning throughout the entire paper, it didn’t help that your seat was exactly opposite Daniel’s and you could view him so clearly • it was the smallest, most unnoticeable things that made your heart flutter. Like how he scrunched his nose when he came across a difficult question or when his lips pursed when he was concentrating hard • a whole man • you were pretty much on cloud nine when results were released because he ran out of the hall and right into your arms, thanking you repeatedly • unfortunately, all good things must come to an end • it was around Junior year? maybe, you can’t remember the details but you vividly recall the entire situation • there was some sort of dance coming up and you still had that stupid crush on Kang Daniel. Everyone hopes their crush would ask them to be their date • even wishing for that when it was time to cut your cake • I suppose...your wish came true? • two days before the dance and you prepared to show up alone when you found bouquet of red roses left on your desk • you had been banded into a different class for 2nd period science, explains why • on the small tag attached with gold yarn, ‘PROM?’ was scribbled in someone’s handwriting you would never forget • D a n i e l • INTERNALLY: MISSION ABORT MISSION ABORT HEART EXPLOSION IN 3...2.. • curious eyes peered at your gift as a hot blush filled your face, a dumb grin was pulled on your face the entire class • you stashed the bouquet under your desk and occasionally stroked the velvety petals • just after the bell had gone, Kang Daniel waltzed into the classroom accompanied by his best friend, Ong Seongwoo • his lips had been curled into a satisfied, almost cocky smirk, but when his gaze found yours and saw that the flowers were hidden under your table, a frown etched it’s way onto his face • meanwhile, you were there blushing, your hopes soaring high as he approached you. ‘Yes!’ you squeaked, standing up as soon as he reached your desk. ‘I’ll be your date to prom.’ • silence fell over the class before utter disbelief overcame Daniel. He ripped the flowers from your desk, horror overwhelming him. • he glared you in the eye, his heart turning into cold stone. ‘No, no, you won’t be.’ • turns out, the roses were for that popular girl in class who sat behind you and spent her science class jotting down how to break up with two people at the same time • you wouldn’t blame her, she was a bombshell in every aspect • ‘sarah, will you be my date to prom?’ Daniel asked suavely, now offering your bouquet to her and even getting down on one knee • your jaw fell to the floor and so did the rest of class’ as they finally comprehended the situation before them • sarah slowly stood up, examined Daniel’s gift and question before smiling sweetly and knocking the roses out of his grip. ‘Sorry, I don’t accept...used things. And..I already have a date.’ • her annoyingly sugary voice still rang through your head nowadays • Daniel was completely crestfallen, he tossed the roses into the corner of the classroom then stormed out • but not before exchanging a few words with you. • ‘T-this is all your fault,’ he spat, narrowing eyes unforgiving. • you knew right then and there that he was never worth your time, yet you couldn’t help but feel upset that you had lost a good friend • from then on, you ignored Daniel and never dared to go anywhere near him or his little bunch of clique members • at least Seongwoo wasn’t the world’s worst person • when Daniel tormented you, Seongwoo was there to comfort you • it wasn’t like y’all talked or texted but he was there to made sure you were all good before catching up with his clan • he even discouraged Daniel from poking fun at you • it wasn’t like you were too affected by Daniel’s annoying • but Seongwoo,,,gosh he made your heart beat faster and faster each time • now’s the time for the juicy stuff • for your final history project, your class was required to pair up with another class for group work • wow it must be Cupid or something because you ended up working in the same group as Seongwoo • however, when there’s an Ong Seongwoo, there’s a Kang Daniel • Wonderful • during class discussion, you paid no mind to Daniel, focusing your attention solely on the project • it was only during weekend discussion that Seongwoo and your classmate could not attend • and yours and Daniel’s share of the workload had suddenly been intertwined • ‘god no,’ Daniel had muttered under his breathe when your classmate suggested that the two of you meet up to discuss further about your half of the project • at that, you drop your pen, it lands with a silence piercing clatter on the table top • Everyone watches as you purse your lips and turn away from Daniel, maybe even shifting your chair a couple of inches further away • Daniel snickers and rolls his eyes but remains silent and gestures for your classmate to continue talking • after class, Seongwoo grabs your arm before you can make a mad dash for it • ‘don’t be like this,’ he says when it’s just the two of you left in the class. ‘It’s hurting you, I can tell but please don’t be hostile towards Niel, things will only get worse if you two fight.’ • You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing away • ‘hey,’ Seongwoo says softly, his right hand clasping your chin and turning your head to face him again. Your eyes meet and your breath jams in your throat. • that sounds violent oh no • ‘Look at me, okay? I’m doing this because I want to help. It isn’t healthy for both of you to be like this all the time. Calm down and...text me when you want to talk about it.’ • why can’t I just text you when I want to talk to YOU? • you manage a shaky breath, nodding. Deciding that just maybe, Seongwoo was right. He was a good friend after all, he wouldn’t do anything to harm either you or Daniel • you went home that day with a lot on your mind • and the next afternoon, you found yourself in the library, seated next to Kang Daniel, books and research papers lining the white table in front of you • originally, everyone had been present but your classmate, Semmi made an excuse to ‘buy lunch’ for everyone and Seongwoo had accompanied her to the mall • so far, all was civil. You even inquired about Daniel’s wellbeing and how his studies were fairing • laughing, he says, ‘Not the best. I suppose I could use a tutor again.’ • a tutor like me? • he stares at you long and hard for a couple of prolonged seconds. ‘Hey, maybe we can have study sessions again, like the old times. I’m...sorry for everything I put you through and we should try to get along for the sake of our studies.’ • heart: thUD THUD THUD ??? • boi what game you playing • ‘and of course, we need to take Semmi and Ong into consideration, our grade shouldn’t affect theirs.’ • was kang daniel actually apologising and offering to make up with you? How strange. Seongwoo must have really knocked some sense into him • jokingly, you agreed. There was no way he could be serious and this was just to make a joke out of you, you knew his tactics all to well by now • one thing you didn’t know was that Daniel was a huge fan of hugging you in the hallways or whenever he saw you • ....which led to everyone thinking that you two were dating • no • he was a lot sweeter to you and showed up to school with speckless decorum • Daniel also assisted you in your studies, offering his afternoons as study time with you • why was your heart racing so madly when you were with him? • then again, there was Seongwoo • Ong Seongwoo had appeared to have taken your heart with him too • he was always nice to you, and his affections never faded once. Though he never made his intentions clear • but uh I don’t think you can exactly classify someone as a friend after they walk you home, by you drinks all the time, kiss you on the cheek/forehead and offer to carry your school supplies • you laughed a lot more when you were with Seongwoo than when you hung out with Daniel • clearly, you had decisions to make • That time came sooner rather than later when Seongwoo popped the question, ‘Why aren’t we going out yet?’ • you were so STUNNED YOU DROPPED YOUR FORK - JIHOON’S EYES NEARLY POPPED OUT OF HIS SOCKETS • AND IT SLID RIGHT ACROSS TWO TABLES TO WHERE DANIEL AND MINHYUN WERE WALKING, CARRYING THEIR TRAYS TO YOUR TABLE • he paused • ‘I loaf you a lot y/n,’ he pointed to the baguette on your tray, ‘but you’re always with Daniel...and I don’t want to interfere and all...but I need to give this a try before I pasta way.’ • puns yes puns • like I said, Seongwoo made you laugh more, so maybe that was something to take into consideration • luckily, Daniel was still out of earshot when Seongwoo had boldly confessed his love • lunch carried on as if nothing had happened • you tried your best to brush off that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach • ‘give us a minute,’ Daniel instructed his friends, ushering them to go ahead. ‘It’ll only be a second.’ • he wanted to talk to you...alone • worry crossed Seongwoo’s face but regardless of his personal interests, he slipped away • Daniel took your hands in his, shocking you and your heart for the second time in a span of 20 minutes • ‘y/n, be my date to prom.’ • prom.... • dance with Daniel • or sip ciders with Seongwoo • you had to choose NOW • yet in your heart, you already knew the answer • one boy walked home with a broken yet delighted heart, glad that at least the person he adored was waltzing in the arms of his best friend • happy that at least, he still maintained a meaningful friendship you. He knew the truth and that was the most important part • the other suitor took an Uber home with you, heart racing and fighting down a red blush every time his gaze locked with yours • he was overjoyed, knowing that his efforts in pursuing you had paid off and finally, the two of you would make better memories as a couple • he was glad you accepted his admiration • Daniel chuckled when he saw Seongwoo’s new IG story, rejection never felt better when he had the knowledge that his best friend was over the moon, that his other friend was happy with the decision they made • - I’ll have a date this prom - • wow what is this whole thing even