#when he first met him he stopped at the annoying petulant little kid

[rafyki]

Listen, I know Percy is just a kid who's bearing the weight of saving the world on his shoulder, knowing there's a high chance he will die at the end of it even if he survives - but. The way in the last Olympian he's so ready to judge and condemn Nico without thinking twice, he wants to fucking strangle him, he stops trusting him and considers him a traitor (and he kind of his okay, but not really!) - even when he knows that Nico didn't mean it, that everything he told him was true and that he never meant to hurt him, he just wanted to help.

Nico's only fault is that he trusted his father too much, and really Percy could try and understand him and his reason. But he doesn't. He never tries to understand him, he just discards him like an afterthought. Like - where's the "I'm gonna take the prophecy on myself to keep him safe bc he doesn't deserve to suffer anymore" gone? Where's the "I feel guilty and I want to help him"??? Did he forget everything?? Can he try and empathize with him for just one second???

[seokiloquy]

Ships Need Sails - Kuroo & Bokuto & Kozume & Akaashi

Soulmate Au: the first words said to your soulmate appear on their wrist and vice versa, when said. 

Requested (I changed the specific colours, but otherwise nothing else)

Tags/Warnings: GN!Reader, Poly relationship, Meet cute, Starts off focused on the 4

Word Count: 2.1k+

Kozume was on a rowboat in life. One that was too big for him to grab onto both oars at the same time. His little arms were too small and weak. It was fine though, he would guess. Being alone wasn't bad. It was peaceful, he didn't have to think about anyone else, his imagination could run wild and free about sea monsters and dragons flying overhead.

It was a sudden change when a new player appeared in Kozume's row boat. It got a bit bigger and stronger, but most importantly someone could grab the other oar. 

Kuroo and Kozume met at a young age. They both remember meeting clearly, but the realisation of being soulmates came a bit later. When parents are talking, kids don’t really want to speak up after all.

Surprisingly, it had been Kozume to speak first, cutting into the silence of them standing stiffly in his bedroom. And with that, “Wanna play Virtua Fighter 4?��� was permanently inked onto Kuroo’s wrist in a golden brown.

For Kozume, in crimson red the word “Sure” was printed.

Though at the time, neither quite understood the intricacies of being soulmates, it slowly became obvious to each other why they were. Kuroo was understanding, able to pick up on Kozume’s mental tune. He knew when the younger boy was excited or bored behind the plain expression he often wore. He didn’t need to ask if Kozume was happy, tired, or having fun. He just knew, and Kozume greatly appreciated that.

Kuroo enjoyed Kozume’s analytical mind. Though perhaps not as intuitive as Kuroo was with emotions, Kosume was quick to learn and adjustable to understand if Kuroo wanted a change of pace. He brought something new to the table in his own way, usually in the form of a new videogame, often one with puzzles to solve or challenging battles. 

They had nine steady years of sticking together as best friends, partners, and soulmates. Nine years until another wrench got thrown into the mix.

Bokuto was an oddball, an unexpected meteor that wasn’t picked up by radars. Not that a small row boat had radars in the first place. Nor would it matter when a tsunami was heading their way. 

Kuroo and Bokuto met in their 1st year of high school during a tournament. Standing on opposite sides of the net when the tension is at its highest and the crowds cheering seemed to stuff everybody’s ears. It was a close game with Kuroo blocking many of Bokuto’s hits and Bokuto’s frustration climbing. There weren’t any direct words exchanged between them until late in the second half when Bokuto landed with an annoyed grunt.

“Stop blocking me!”

Kuroo found his pout and pinched nose entertaining. “Can’t, sorry! It’s my job!”

Nekoma came out on top that game, and in his petulant state Bokuto didn’t take notice of the crimson text on his wrist until they were about to get on the team busses.

While his team still weren’t ready to leave, he took the opportunity to run for where he remembered seeing the red team’s bus. His teammates were screaming after him as he fled.

He sprinted faster when he saw the familiar spiked black hair about to step on the vehicle. “Wait!”

Kuroo didn’t even look over before the spiker took a hold of his wrist and pulled up the sleeve. “Ah—uh?”

Bokuto hadn’t said anything about Virtua Fighter 4, did he?

“What’s up with you?” Kuroo asked, yanking his arm back.

“You, your soulmate?”

Kuroo’s brow quirked. 

Noticing the confusion Bokuto pulled his jacket sleeve up, showing the black-haired bow his words that were printed on the skin. “But you’re my soulmate!”

Kuroo was stunned for a moment, staring at the familiar colour and words on this stranger’s wrist before slowly lifting up the sleeve of his other arm where, lo and behold, said “Stop blocking me!” in silver-grey ink that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.

Kozume found Bokuto utterly tiring. But the new set of silver words on his wrist were undeniable. “So you’re Kenma!”

To which Kozume replied “Ya.” Letting the simple response be stuck on the loud boy’s wrist, just beneath Kuroo’s words, in the same golden colour.

Boats upgrade all the time, it was nearly a ship at this point. Not that it mattered much when the still had to row everywhere.

Collectively, their parent’s were all baffled. It only became worse, perhaps better, once another year passed, and Kozume finally entered high school.

Tokyo, though pretty easy to travel across, was big enough to make seeing Bokuto regularly difficult. Unlike Kuroo and Kenma, who had been neighbours for close to 10 years now and practically glued to each other’s side all the time, Bokuto was alone. Alone and often wishing he could spend the afternoon spiking Kenma’s tosses in and around Kuroo’s blocks.

No one could quite toss like Kenma. And every time Bokuto came home to his own team after a visit to the two, he was reminded of the fact.

Akaashi was a welcomed surprise.

Seemingly showing up out of the blue, Akaashi was just what they needed.

Had Akaashi’s teammate never suggested going to watch that tournament, and if they didn’t happen to walk in just as Bokuto was flying through the air to land an impressive spike, they probably would have met much later in life.

“Heya! You’re Ah-kashi, Right?” It would be imprinted on Akaashi’s wrist forever in silver ink.

“It’s Ah-ka-ah-shi.” In teal to match the boy’s eyes, sat pretty on Bokuto’s clean wrist on its own.

The four finally met all together during that years’ inter-high preliminaries tournament. And as soon as they did, it clicked. Fresh introductions plastered onto their wrists. It just made sense somehow. The four balanced well. 

Akaashi and Kenma enjoyed the presence of each other, often talking about things that sparked their interests in quiet tones that were calming. Akaashi knew how Bokuto worked, memorized it like a ballet routine much like Kuroo was with Kenma. 

Bokuto and Kuroo managed to pull the most energetic and exciting parts out of each other and the group, keeping things upbeat and happy. Bokuto often was curious about what Kenma was doing on his phone or PS4, giving the quieter of the two a chance to happily ramble about games and play with more people. And Kuroo and Akaashi found each other’s intelligence interesting to explore.

Finally, when back home and away from his Nekoma partners, Bokuto had someone to rely on in the same way.

It felt right, like floating on a ship with the wood in all the right places. Maybe they'd let the current take them somewhere instead of trying to row such a heavy thing. 

Shinzen High, with their green uniforms and matching green landscape, were a great location to host the training camp with the hot summer temperatures. It was also great with all the space available, with a new team joining and all. 

No teams would be arriving for another week, however, but despite that, Shinzen’s volleyball team was eager to prepare for their arrival, and you were now in the middle of it.

Managers were hard to come by, often students would rather be active participants in the sport, or they would just find another club to join entirely. Which was fine, but with players needing to practice, and the coach’s coaching, someone needed to set things up that fell outside of the immediate court. That duty fell on Otaki, the manager of Shinzen high’s boy’s volleyball team, and she was stressed. So much so that she wasted precious prep time, to find even just a temporary helper to help with things in the week leading to the training camp.

You gave another grunt as you lifted the attached desk and chair to stack on top of another at the back of the classroom. It landed with a metallic thud, and you prayed that there were no exams being written nearby.

Classrooms near the gym that weren’t hosting exams were being converted to temporary sleeping spaces for the teams during their training camp.

“Last one,” Otaki said. Her blonde ponytail swung as she placed the last cot and pillow on the group. She quickly ran over to the side of the room to grab your water bottles, reaching yours out for you to take a hold of as she got closer. “Thank you again, (L/N) I don’t think I would have been able to set this up without an extra hand.”

You took a sip of water and waved your free arm back and forth, “It’s no problem really. I finished my exams already anyways.”

“So you’re still willing to help out when the teams arrive?”

You both stepped out of the classroom, quickly making your way to the gyms where the team was practising. “Ya, totally. I never managed to join a club anyways, maybe I could help you out and get the Counsellor off my back. And it definitely beats working on the family farm in this weather.”

Otaki sighed. “I’d appreciate the extra help, the boys are a handful.”

“I’m sure they are.”

Volleyball players were —often— tall and very intimidating, especially with their tendency to yell and send balls flying so fast you were sure they would break a bone.

You stared, wide-eyed at the teams in front of you as they played roughly, doing their best to win and avoid punishment. It was already late in the day, the sun beginning to make its dip toward the horizon. And yet, every single player was playing as though they just got on the court.

“(L/N), come on. We gotta start cooking now.” Otaki slung her arm into yours pulling you toward the gym’s exit where the other managers were waiting with kind smiles.

“We’re all here? Then let’s get to work.

Everyone rushed out of the gyms as soon as food was called. The quad soulmate group was no different, quickly grabbing their servings of food and sitting down to eat. Kuroo, being the resident pest he was, decided to mess with Bokuto as soon as they sat down.

Seeing the duo-toned-haired boy eagerly shoving rice into his mouth, Kuroo smirked. “Yah, Kuroo! Don’t eat so quickly you’ll choke!”

Bokuto’s brows furrowed and swallowed all the rice he held in his chipmunk cheeks with a single gulp, he huffed. “It’s Bokuto.��

“Kuroo.”

“Bokuto.”

Akaashi and Kozume sighed, opting to ignore the two and have their own conversation over the table between bites of food.

“Kuroo.”

“Bokuto.”

“Bokuto.”

“Kuroo.”

Kuroo slammed his fist into the table. “Aha! Got you!”

“Damn it!” Bokuto whined, shoving more rice into his mouth to muffle the cries. Kuroo continued to laugh until a new voice popped in at the end of the table.

“Um, do you all want some more rice?”

Kuroo smirked, turning his head with a keening smile. “Hi, I’m Bokuto Koutarou.”

At the chance to introduce himself to a new person, Bokuto’s head shot up. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou!” He paused, throwing his head pitifully into the stranger’s stomach. “Damn it!”

Breaking away from their conversation, Kozume and Akaashi sighed. Kenma, brushing his bleached hair out of his face, pointed to his teammate next to him with his thumb. “He’s Kuroo.”

Kuroo smirked.

Akaashi nodded his head toward Bokuto, whose face was still pressed into the stranger’s stomach. “And he’s, Bokuto.”

You blinked, head tilting as your mind spun in circles around the conversation. “Okay? I’m (L/N). Do you four want some more rice?” You looked at the weeping boy pressed against your abdomen. Sighing, you set the bowls of rice down on the table for them to split and raised your hands to brush them into the tired boy’s hair. “Maybe some water?”

Unbeknownst to you. The three that weren’t crying, caught sight of the familiar colours as they appeared on your skin, popping out like vinyl text on a shirt. They took a look at their wrists, the ones that only had one phrase on them, now paired with another in sage green. 

When they looked up again, Bokuto was looking up at you with appreciative eyes, which you returned with a somewhat confused smile, and it clicked, just as it did before.

Even with all the wood and upgrades in the world, ships can’t voyage with their sail.

I’ve written 3 oneshot’s in 3 days. They’re not long. But I’m writing. Totally not stressed…. Totally not. Definitely not a form of escapism. Help.

And nowwww. I haven’t written anything in a month and am working on 3 oneshots simultaneously all of which really should just be individual short stories instead. I refuse to miss my upload dates. Help - Bacon

Posted: 21/11/2021

[jaedreaminn]

Cupcakes

Summary

You were just on your way to deliver cupcakes to the Royal Family, you didn't plan on getting engaged to their youngest son.

Not like you were complaining though.

Parings: Jaemin x fem!reader

Theme: Royalty Au, fluff, humour, angst (but if you blink you miss it)

Characters: Jaemin, Jeno, Mark, Chenle, Jisung, Haechan, Yuta, Taeyong, OC «mentioned» Hendery.

Word Count: 4.5k

You happily skipped down the muddy road as you made your way to the palace.

It’s been a while since you’ve gone to there, considering how you frequented there as a child.

Now however, you were on your way to deliver a last minute batch of cupcakes the palace had ordered for- well some event that was none of your business.

Normally, palaces had their own chefs who were very skilled so it wasn’t a common occurrence that the small bakery in the lower part of town got a palace order. But the Royal Family had come to love the cupcakes your brother made after trying it once and well the rest was history.

“I’m here to deliver 50 cupcakes for the Royal Family” You grinned and the guard eyed your worn out frock and scuffled sandals with a frown.

“The Royal Highnesses have their own pastry chef” He sneered and you frowned, hand reaching to your satchel to pull out the scroll with the Royal seal on it.

“Look, I’m not lying” you said showing the guard the scroll with the order but instead of apologising and letting you in he snatched the scroll and growled at you, “It’s illegal to impersonate the Royal Seal you know”

“But I-“

“Move along little girl I don’t have time for your foolishness” he said shoving the scroll back into your arms and shoving you away. Tears threatened to prickle the sides of your eyes but you didn’t let them fall but instead held your head up high like your brother had taught you too and stepped forward.

“I do not want to fail this simple task the Royal family gave me because of some imbecile guard, you either let me in or find someone who will” you said, trying your best to glare at the man in front of you.

“How dare you” he said grabbing hold of your arm as he raised his other hand, ready to hit you. You shut your eyes bracing yourself for the impact but a voice stopped the guard.

“What is the meaning of this?” A voice that you recognised all too well said venomously. You opened your eyes, eyes darting to where the sound came from only to be met with stern cold eyes.

“Y-your Highnesses” The guard immediately let go you your arm and bowed. You frowned rubbing your arm as you glared at the guard.

“This peasant was trying to impersonate the Royal Seal” he spoke and you scoffed.

“That couldn’t have been true, I remember personally writing and sending that scroll” The raven head spoke with narrowed eyes as you smirked.

“I-I I didn’t, I didn’t know your Highness” The guard stuttered and you had to try your best not to snicker.

“You are relieved from you duty..” the boy spoke eyeing the tall guard, “For good” he then added ignoring the pleading man who was being dragged away and making his way towards you.

“Princess” He bowed and you smiled bowing back.

“Hello Nana” you grinned at the boy who gave you a small smile back.

“I still don’t understand why you insist on living as a baker girl, you’re worth more than cheap frocks and scuffed up boots” Jaemin said with a frown.

“I tell you this every time you ask me Jaemin, after my parents died I had to freedom to do whatever I wanted but I’d still remain royalty. I thought I might as well live like a commoner until it lasts and I get married off” you said with a small humourless laugh.

Jaemins eyes softened, as he took hold of your cart and started to walk past the gates into the palace.

“You know my parents would never just marry you off” he said and you smiled knowingly. You knew his parents wouldn’t but the council men didn’t seem to be fond of the idea.

“I know” you said in a whisper, smiling reassuringly at the boy.

“Especially to someone you don’t want to be with” he added and you smiled, a sad smile.

“I want to be with you but that’s never going to happen” you said bitterly remembering how badly the court took the news of a blossoming romance between you and Jaemin.

Jaemins family ruled the neighbouring kingdom that had captured your country but still let your family and parents rule it, but when they died so suddenly when you were just a little girl it was but obvious that the Na’s were taking charge of your nation.

The Na’s were very sweet and very nurturing and caring of you. You were still treated like Royalty but alas you weren’t their child and some people in the high court made an issue out if it.

And so when you asked them if you could go live with your first cousin the baker (whom you considered your brother because before he left the palace the two of you basically grew up together) they didn’t object but they weren’t thrilled.

That however didn’t stop the romance blossoming between you and the Na’s youngest son. And his parents couldn’t have been more supportive but there was this stinky old man in the high court that always caused trouble and it was because of his convincingly evil words that you two couldn’t be together.

Well you couldn’t get married without it sparking trouble in the high court, that didn’t mean you two couldn’t be together while it lasted.

“Yes it’s going to happen! We’re going to be together” Jaemin said stopping abruptly and you frowned. You really didn’t like fake hope.

“Jaem..”

“Princess!” You heard a voice exclaim and both of you turned your heads in the direction of the voice. You smiled upon seeing who it was.

“Lord Lee” you smiled, a teasing glint in your eye and Jeno groaned.

“It’s annoying every time” he complained about the title, coming to stand next to you. He eyes travelled towards the carriage and immediately lit up.

“Are those..?” Jeno asked and you nodded with a smile, “Help yourself” you said and Jeno immediately darted towards the carriage ready to grab a cupcake when Jaemin swatted his hand with a pout.

“Get your own”

“It was you who said what’s mine is yours so now move” Jeno said shoving Jaemin aside and you chuckled.

“I knew I smelt cupcakes!” You heard another voice and grinned when you saw who it was.

“Sir Mark” you said with a grin and Mark blushed. “Not you too, it still sounds so foreign”

“How did this blushing mess of a boy even become a knight” Chenle said popping up from no where and you smiled at the boy, pointing at the cart. His eyes immediately lit up as he went to help himself to a cupcake.

“Taeyong hyung really out does himself” Jeno said moaning as he took a bite of the sweet treat.

“Yes and you boys forcing me to increase his already heavy workload does nothing to help him” Jaemin said glaring at the others while munching on a cupcake himself.

“Ahh Taeyong has a lot of help” you smiled and Chenle looks at you pointedly.

“Not me silly our neighbours” you say and you hear Jaemin huff.

“Jisung is an absolute darling but Donghyuck gosh I really don’t like him! Why couldn’t I have been your neighbour rather than that baboonic imbecile.” Jaemin complained and you chuckled.

“Oh c’mon he didn’t know you were Royalty!” You exclaimed, defending your favourite neighbour, who could agreeably be quite boisterous.

“He still shouldn’t treat someone the way he did me” Jaemin said with a petulant pout.

“Well you were dressed in commoners clothes, glaring at him for no reason while using such big words” you said, glaring at the boy in return.

“The young Prince’s jealousy knows no bounds” Chenle snickered, covering his mouth with his hand in a sorry attempt to hide it.

“You people just aren’t used to small town life” you argued and Mark nodded.

“It surely was an experience… Small town life and Lee Donghyuck” Mark said dreadfully and everyone laughed remembering the story Mark had told all of you about how Donghyuck had dragged him around town when Jaemin brought Mark along to distract the boy.

“But his brother is an absolute saint!” Jaemin exclaimed and you smiled, in those short, rare visits Jaemin made to town in disguise, he had come to grow very fond of Jisung and you couldn’t even blame him, the kid was very lovable.

“I don’t know from what you people tell me he sounds like he has poop hands” Chenle said with a shrug and you smiled, the young Lord wasn’t all that off.

“He does! That’s why Taeyong doesn’t let him anywhere near his kitchen, just send him to run some errands here and there” you say and Chenle smiles.

“Jeno that’s your fifth cupcake you’re going to get a bellyache” Mark says glaring at the boy who was quietly munching on cupcakes this whole time.

“Jeno hyung” Chenle said rolling his eyes, helping Mark drag Jeno away from the cupcake cart as they waved goodbye to you.

“These are the moments I live for” you said to Jaemin, as you smiled and waved goodbye. Jaemin stood there looking at you wave, smiling because you were.

“I know you like to live in the moment and not think about the future. But I promise you, you are in my future” Jaemin says, eyes shining with determination as he holds onto your hand giving it a squeeze. And for just this moment you let yourself harbour unrealistic hope.

But Na Jaemin has always proven to be a man of his word. “Where’s mother and Father?” He asks his brother Yuta once he steps inside the throne room.

“If I’d known I wouldn’t be sitting around waiting for them would I?” His older brother, the next King, chuckled.

Jaemin sighed with a nod, missing the way Yuta was grinning at him.

“I’m taking you met y/n again?” Yuta asked with a raised eyebrow and Jaemin solemnly nodded walking towards his brother.

“I want to be with her, but everyone seems to be against that idea” Jaemin sighed and Yuta smiled patting his brothers head.

“Old man Kim has always been a pain in our parents ass and he’s soon going to be a pain in mine. Be he can’t pass snide remarks and rile up to court if he is wrong.” Yuta said with a , hinting at something and Jaemin looked at him confused.

“I’m saying as a prince, and as the Royal Family’s second born you are made to memorize the most basic rules that glare at you in the face in that book but there are always more rules and… exceptions” Yuta said with a playful smirk and Jaemins eyes widened, smiling with mischief.

Of course! The Archives have all the rule and exceptions to the rules!

Jaemin bolted out of the room and rushed to the parlour. “Jeno! Jeno where are you? Jeno!” He yelled in search of his friend and partner in crime.

“He’s not hear young prince” Chenle said shutting his book and glaring at the noise maker. “He’s training”

“Whyyy” Jaemin whined dramatically falling onto the soft sofa and Chenle cocked a brow. “To protect you in the future?”

“Chenle! “Jaemin then sprang up clapping his hands and smiling at the boy with a very plotting grin. Hesitantly Chenle said “..Yes?”

“Come help me!” Jaemin pleaded and Chenle was about to refuse but found himself just letting Jaemin drag him to the archives, not having the heart to deny the Prince who requested his assistance with such bright and hopeful eyes, a contrast to his normal demeanour.

And that’s how both the boys found themselves in the Royal archives, sitting on one circular messy table with books and scrolls stacked or left open scattered around the table, reading through all the lesser known rules and exceptions.

“We’re never going to find anything” Jaemin groaned throwing his head back in frustration, flipping through his eight book.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that” Chenle said smiling, and handing the book he was reading to Jaemin. As Jaemins eyes darted over the page that was open an evil smirk started taking over his features.

“Will this work?” Chenle asked with hopeful eyes and Jaemin nodded and then started looking around the table for something.

“What are you looking for?” Chenle asked, eyeing the boy curiously.

“A scroll that I read earlier, about a study” Jaemin said making the messy table messier in his search for the scroll.

Chenle rolled his eyes, resting back onto the chair, drained from all the non-fantasy reading he had to do today. As he slumped back onto his chair, something on the floor caught his eyes.

“Jaemin” he said catching the older boys attention and pointing at the piece of paper on the floor.

Upon picking up the paper the young Prince’s eyes lit up, “You’ve been my saviour twice today!” Jaemin exclaimed happily with a low laugh as he glanced at the contents of the scroll.

“Anything that makes you happy” The younger boy whispered to himself as he watched the prince make notes.

On Monday morning Jaemin walked into the council meeting with a pride, head held up high.

“Council” He said bowing to everyone in the room as everyone bowed back.

“I wish to marry princess Y/n” Jaemin spoke confidentially.

“Young lad we have already told you this kingdom does not benefit from a union between you and the princess at all! In fact it will look bad marrying a prisoner” old man Kim said glaring at Jaemin who glared back.

“It’s your Highness to you council man Kim” Jaemin glared at the man who sat on his seat looking taken back while his parents and brother tried hard not to snicker. “And how dare you call the princess who is protected and cared for by the Royal Family a prisoner?” Jaemin said still glaring at the man who immediately looked frightened and only got more scared once he saw the glaring faces of the King and Queen.

“B-but she still isn’t beneficial to the kingdom your highness” Old man Kim stuttered.

“The law says the King is expected to marry someone of high status and power, who’s company brings the kingdom peace and good relationships.” Jaemin says reciting what he was taught and old man Kim seems to straighten up proud that he was right.

“However the law says expected, not obliged. If the King isn’t obliged nor am I. In fact ages ago King Cheoljong had and experiment conducted where he gave two commoners jobs in the high court to look after a small portion of land. One was allowed to do what he wanted to and marry whomever he wished to while the other was restricted by unreasonable laws and had to marry whoever the King thought was good for that small piece of land, a wealthy women if I must. The happier man with the happy stable marriage showed better fruits and the other man simply disappointed the King” Jaemin finished his little story with a smile sent to the council who was listening intently.

“Ever since then it was encouraged that the Royal Family’s happiness came before any bonds and treaties. But Council man Kim seems to be completely against my happiness for his own gain” Jaemin said glaring at the man and a few gasps were heard throughout the court.

“On what basis are you making such an accusation your highness? I only look out for you and the kingdom”

“Or is that what you want us to think? I hired private investigator Huang Guanheng and he seems to think differently” Jaemin smirks and Council man Kim straightens his posture, trying his best to look cool and composed.

“Is it or is it not true that you have a niece, Lady Jo Hwajin, daughter of Duke and Duchess Jo, whom you have promised a spot in this country among the Royals?” Jaemin asked and council man Kim was about to answer when he cut him off, “Remember lying to any member of the Royal Family is treason”,

Old man Kim seems to contemplate his answer before bowing his head in shame, “Yes your highness”

“And is it or is it not true that you were planning on forcing me to marry her” Jaemin asked with a raised eyebrow and council man Kim’s eyes widened.

“I-I would-“

“Be careful of what you say council man Kim” Jaemin said pulling out an envelope from his coat, holding it between his middle and pointer finger, “I haven’t come here making accusations unprepared”

“Yes your highness” old man Kim says bowing his head, avoiding eye contact. Jaemin smirked at that, he didn’t need to know the envelop was empty.

“Now a marriage like that doesn’t ensure peace or good relationship, but marrying y/n will just give our already trusting people more reason to trust and support our rule, she after all was their beloved King and Queens first born.” Jaemin said and his parents smiled at him.

“But your highness, my niece will ensure good relations with the Kingdom and Princess y/n hasn’t been talked about in ages. People might not even remember her” Old man Kim interrupted and Jaemin glared at him.

“You live comfortably in the high court Council Man Kim, I on the other hand have spent numerous days disguised as a commoner getting to know our people, are you suggesting you know more about them than I do?”

Old man Kim’s eyes widened comically as he stuttered out a response, “N-no you’re H-highness”

“Good” Jaemin said still glaring at the man and then turned to his parents.

“Since that matter is settled, Mother, Father and all council members, I wish to marry princess y/n” Jaemin says, eyes shinning with victory when his parents give him an approving nod when no one in the council objected.

“This order is ridiculously large” You grunt pushing the cart from behind.

“You can just sit this one out y/n” Taeyong says smiling at you with worry as you struggled with the cart. You nodded you head, grabbing onto the cart, eyes shining with determination as you were ready to march to the palace.

“Need help?” Haechan asked, with a smiling Jisung by his side.

“No it’s okay” you said and Taeyong frowned. “Yes we’d love the extra hands”

“Yay road trip!” Jisung exclaimed happily before you could protest.

“Yes!’ Haechan exclaimed, excitedly jumping towards you taking the cart from you hands as he started moving ahead before Taeyong could even tell him where you were going.

“Should we just let him realise he’s alone or should we stop and follow him?” Jisung asked in a whisper, leaning towards you and Taeyong and you chuckled while Taeyong glared at the youngest, chasing after and call Haechan.

“Huh I guess not” Jisung shrugged as the two of you followed the two men with the carts.

“Oh yes! I was told to expect you..just not so many of you” The guard at the door said, questioningly eyeing Jisung and Haechan when you reached the palace gates.

“About time!” Mark who was dressed casually said running towards you as you glared at the boy.

“Is he mad? I know for a fact that there isn’t any occasion in the palace why would he order so many cupcakes” you complained and Jisung and Haechan looked at you with wide eyes.

“Y/n we really love you and don’t want to see you beheaded so please don’t talk smack about the crown” Jisung whisper yelled and you and Mark chuckled.

“It’s her birth right to talk smack about the prince because if not y/n then who else” Jeno approached you, his eye smile on full display. And a quite Chenle followed him. It wasn’t like Chenle to be quite but you knew he was just eyeing the two new faces.

“Oh well y/n it was nice knowing you” Haechan said wiping a fake tear and Chenle smiled. You had a feeling they would get along just fine

“But there is a very special occasion” Chenle said with a sly smirk and you frowned. But before you could ask any questions the group had already started moving into the palace.

“Taeyong!” Yuta yelled approaching your small crowd after you made your way into the castle and Haechan and Jisung immediately bowed.

“Yuta it’s been forever” Taeyong said going to hug the other male.

“It really has” Yuta said smiling and then looked at Haechan and Jisung, “You may rise” he said with a chuckle as the two hesitantly rose.

“Any friend of y/n and Taeyong is a friend of mine so you can drop the formalities when we’re in private.” Yuta said and you cringed looking at the wide eyed confused boys, what if they caught onto who you were.

“Y/n! Love of my life! Princess!” You heard another voice yell and you sighed when you caught a glimpse of Haechans and Jisungs face, yeah they’re definitely cathcing on and you definitely had a lot of explaining to do.

“Jaemin?” Haechan yelled shocked and you honestly expected the prince to glare at the boy but he simply smiled back.

“How did you leave out the fact that Jaemin’s Royalty!” Jisung whisper yelled immediately bowing and dragging Haechan down with him. You sighed.

“Oh please you didn’t bow down to me back then when you jumped on my back and it’s definitely not needed now” Jaemin said rolling his eyes as he made his way to you pulling you into a hug.

“Y/n! How could you let me jump on Jae- The crowned princes back” Jisung yelled at you absolutely mortified.

“You yell at Y/n just fine without crying and worrying about how she’s a princess” Chenle adds in just to boggle up the younger more and it seems to work as Jisung pales.

“She’s a what!” Haechan exclaims as you glare at Chenle who laughed.

“Honestly Haechan your volume hasn’t changed a bit” Mark says rubbing his ears.

“Why don’t you tell the princess why we’re celebrating” Jeno said nudging Jaemin shoulder.

“Well I’m getting engaged!” Jaemin starts excitedly holding onto your hands and you feel you heart break, forcing on a smile. At least he seems to be happy about it so the person he’s getting engaged to must be really lovely.

“Well it isn’t confirmed because she’s yet to say yes to me” Jaemin said scratching his head and the action would honestly seem comical to you if not for the fact that you could hear your heart shatter.

“Actually I haven’t even asked her” He says and you put on a very forced smile. You were sure you looked constipated.

“I hope she says yes then” you said giving his hands a soft squeeze. “You think she will?” He askes and you nod slowly. Why would she say no to such an amazing, talented and beautiful young man.

“Oh I’ve got one more question for you” Jaemin said and you raised your eyebrows, smile almost turning into a cringe. Why was he doing this to you.

You were expecting him to ask you things like how to propose, or where to propose or maybe what type of ring should he buy.

You weren’t expecting him to get down on one knee, smiling at you, “Marry me y/n” he says holding a ring in his hands, you didn’t see him pull it out from his pocket or see anyone pass the ring to him. You didn’t even see the box anywhere.

You stood there shocked for a few seconds not answering him and his grin faltered ever so slightly.

“Y/n this is the part where you answer him” Taeyong said snapping you of your state of shock as you nodded and broke into a smile as Jaemin slid the ring onto your finger, laughing away the happy tears that made its way to his eyes.

“What- but how? The council? And you parents?” You struggled with words as Jaemin pulled you against his chest and laughed a hearty laugh.

“All taken care of he whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your head in his shoulder squeezing him in your arms.

“Ohhh I’m going to miss you” Taeyong said watching the two of you with a small smile.

“You’re telling me, our former crowned princess has been living next door this entire while and her peculiar friend that we bullied was the current crowned prince, and that now the prince and princess are going to get married and I just witnessed their engagement” Jisung said as he continued to freak out.

“Don’t forget the part where you completely forget to greet two of the most important Lords in the Kingdom and a very prestigious knight” Chenle adds and you were afraid Jisung might combust on the spot.

“Eh y/n loves us so we’ll live don’t listen to the rude boy with power” Haechan said patting Jisungs back in hopes of comfort the younger but ends up hitting the boy just a little too hard.

“Chenle’s going to have one heck of a time with Jisung around.” Jeno chuckled and Mark nodded.

“That means peace for me” Mark says but pales when Donghyuck chimes in, “I wouldn’t be to sure about that”

“Wait if Mark is a knight, Jaemin a prince and Y/n a princess what does that make you hyung?” Jisung, who had calmed down asked Taeyong.

“A baker” Taeyong replied grinning and Yuta scoffed.

“He’s Duke Lee, last heir of the Royal Lee’s of the north” Yuta said and Donghyucks jaw dropped open.

“Who?” Jisung asked and Mark chuckled.

“He’s Y/n first cousin and the only child of Princess Lee, our former kings second born.” Haechan said, still in awe.

“How have we not yet been beheaded” Jisung says palling for the nth time that day, how the boy was still conscious was a mystery.

“Give him some time to adjust and he’ll be just as bratty as before” Donghyuck chuckled, patting the boys back.

“Let him spend the day with Chenle and he’ll be fine” you said with a smile, arms still wrapped around Jaemins waist, head against his chest.

You could feel the low rumble in his chest as he chuckled when Chenle smiled his infamous spawn of Satan smile and when Jisung looked even more terrified, forgetting that he has a brother that could rival that smile.

Mark on the other hand seemed to pale at the view of said smile by said brother and Jeno laughed, ready to encourage whatever Donghyuck was plotting.

Yuta was celebrating with Taeyong at the side after the older had secretly agreed to coming back to the palace, on the condition that he has full control over the kitchen.

And you smiled, in your princes, well fiancé’s warm arms, knowing that everything was right with the world.

Happy Jaemin Day💖

Hope you enjoyed reading this~

Now I don't know if I got the labels or hierarchy correct with all the Royal labeling but hopefully I've come close?

But it doesn't matter cus this is in an alternative universe where whatever the author says happens and where the author is never wrong :D

I didn't want to include some big ass speech for the proposal because clearly they've talked about wanting to get married before and it would just be meaningless to have an entire speech.

Idk why I didn't include Renjun considering the rest of dream is there, I just didn't know how to write him in ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway it would be greatly appreciated if you told me what you think of this fic

Jae out✌️

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts:

Epilogue:

--/--

6 Months Later

“Stop- Katsuki, stop it!” You huff a frustrated sigh, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Why can’t you just sit still?”

“Because this is takin’ too goddamn long! Waste of fuckin’ minutes.”

“Well this is important to me, so you’re gonna sit back and shut up and-“ You nearly scream when he shifts again, almost dislodging the measuring tape you’d wrapped around his wrist. “Sit still! Jesus, angry man, it’ll literally take two seconds if you just stop fighting me!”

He grumbles, something low and petulant under his breath, but then falls back against the couch fully. Bakugou finally relents, hand going slack in your hold as he shuts his eyes.

You were gonna kill him, no seriously, you were gonna murder him. He was being so difficult, way more difficult than usual, and you had a sneaking suspiscion it was because he was tired- because, as you’d quickly found out, from only a few months of dating, Katsuki was an absolute toddler about sleep. You’d come to understand that him being tired led to him being cranky, and him being cranky led to him being so goddamn annoying and combative that it made you want to tear your hair out.

He was lucky you loved him so much- not that you told him that yet.

You’d known you loved him for months now, could feel it the way your body heated if you thought of him, the way your blood sang if you so much as heard his name. It was a full body sensation for you- the way you loved him. There was just no escaping it; no escaping the way he’d carved himself a spot in every single part of you. You couldn’t imagine life without him, didn’t even want to try- but you couldn’t tell him so.

Every time you’d tried you were tongue-tied and stuttering and red in the face. The words were thick in your mouth, clogging up the back of your throat. You just couldn’t figure out how to say them; no matter how many times you’d tried. 

You flip his arm over, measuring the space between his thumb and his wrist. You’re trying to be delicate and gentle, but truthfully you really just wanted to get this done quickly.

With the deadline for your last college project quickly approaching, you’d spent the last few weeks doing nothing but devoting all your time and losing sleep over it. It seemed like no matter what support item you’d devised, it didn’t seem perfect- didn’t seem inspired enough to turn in for your final grade. So you dedicated yourself to watching clips and looked at hero rankings and pretty much sacrificed your social life entirely, just to stew over it. It took watching Bakugou’s own hero highlights with him to snap you out of your funk. You wanted to smack yourself; he’d been in front of you the entire time! Of course, it had to be an item for him. So you got to building and designing with renewed spirit.

Katsuki was an amazing fighter, you knew this, and his prowess in battle and raw power alone was quite literally unmatched by almost every opponent- but, the only thing holding him back was that he didn’t do so well with civilians. Try as he might, Bakugou’s loud, flashy, quirk just didn’t paint him as particularly friendly, and his brash personality didn’t help either. And, since you’d long ago given up trying to soften his character, but maybe you could help with his quirk. You figured that was pretty much your degree right?

So, for the past month or so, you’d been secretly working on a gauntlet attachment for him. You’d designed it to quiet his explosions, similar to a silencer on a gun, in hopes that civilians would stop reporting hearing loss after being saved by your very loud boyfriend. Truthfully, you knew it wouldn’t fix all his problems, but maybe then his ratings would go up a tiny bit. And, you figured, if you then just built the prototype you designed, then it could serve as a birthday present for him too. Two birds with one stone, right?

If only it was that simple.

It wasn’t. You were a perfectionist and you’d been pouring your blood, sweat, and tears for weeks now, but it still didn’t feel like enough. It felt like you were running out of time. Even now, while actively taking measurements for said project, you felt uneasy spending time with Bakugou. 

“You done yet, woman?” He peeks an eye open.

“Almost.” You grab your phone, typing the measurements into your notes. “See how easy and quick this went when you stopped being annoying?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to be so fuckin’ annoying if you’d just tell me what you’re makin’ already.”

“Nope. Already talked about this, Katsu,” You let go of his hand. “It’s a surprise! You don’t wanna spoil your birthday surprise, do you?”

You’re joking, smiling widely at him and fluttering your eyelashes. He doesn’t look very amused. Katsuki just squints at you for a moment before poking your side.

“That’s fuckin’ stupid. You’re being annoying. Stop it.”

“Fine. Well I guess since you don’t want it, maybe I just won’t give it to you then.” You tease, moving to leave the couch. “Maybe I just won’t give you any of the gifts I was planning to.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, huffs like he is very inconvienced, and grabs your wrist. He pulls until you’re falling into him, crashing into his chest and settling on his lap.

“I didn’t fuckin’ say that, idiot.” He grumbles, hands falling around your sides. “Stop putting shitty words in my mouth already.”

“I can’t. Pretty sure that’s my job actually.” You laugh, bracing your hands on his chest as you straighten. “Besides, you say like 3 words and all of them are swears, angry man. Someone’s gotta be the talker out of the two of us.”

“It shouldn’t be you. You’re better quiet.” His words were cold, but he was rubbing warm circles into your lower back. “Fuckin’ silent.”

“Wow- we sure are cranky tonight, huh, angry man? Is it bedtime for baby, already?”

“You’re not funny.”

“No, I’m pretty funny.” You laugh, brushing the the wild hair away from his forehead with a gentle hand. “But seriously though, if you’re tired, I don’t have to stay. I don’t mind, I can leave if you just want to sleep.��

He screws his face up at that, comically offended and dramatic as he drops his face into your shoulder. Katsuki’s arms wrap around your sides, pulling you close until you’re flush against his chest. He tightens his grip and doesn’t seem like he plans to let go any time soon.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, angry man, I get it. I won’t leave right now- but I can’t stay for too long.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“That project, remember? I’m nearly done.” 

He huffs again, arms curling tighter around you. You’re a little confused- truthfully, he usually is more physical than verbal, especially when he’s tired, but he’s never this physically affectionate. His voice is a near snarl when he speaks again.

“I fuckin’ hate that stupid as shit assignment.” 

 “Yeah, well, you hate pretty much everything; so I can’t say I’m exactly suprised, Katsuki.”

“No. Seriously.” He gruffs, fingers twitching at your sides. Katsuki takes a deep breath, biting out his next words quickly. “Haven’t seen you in fuckin’ days.”

“Aww-”

“Say another goddamn word and I’ll take it back, woman. Try me.” 

“Okay. I won’t.” You giggle. “But I really am serious, I can’t stay over tonight. Got work to do still.”

“That’s stupid.” Bakugou says and then he’s squeezing you once again, keeping you trapped tight against his chest. “You’re being stupid.”

“Wow. Thanks.” You snort, looking up at him. His mouth is pressed into a tense grimace, so you try patting his cheek playfully. “You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”

He doesn’t seem to like your joke. Not at all.

“I’m kidding. I’m not going anywhere.” You console. “I’m only picking on you, you know, so don’t be so sensitive, angry man. You insult me all the time.”

“When the fuck did I insult ya?”

“Katsuki-“ You utter in disbelief, your hand moving to play with the hairs on the back of his neck. “You literally just called me stupid!  And you said you liked me better silent! Like 2 minutes ago!”

He shrugs, and you can feel his face heat against your neck, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You’re awfully lucky I like you so much.” You sigh. “Because otherwise I’d have to kick your teeth in every time you opened your mouth.”

“Like you could even get that close to me, shitty woman.”

“Strong words for a man currently making a home in my collarbone, Katsuki.”

“That’s-I- You know what,” He starts, extending an arm and pushing against your shoulders to create distance. “Say shit like that again and I swear to god I’ll...”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll- I’ll fuckin-“ He stutters, face red and fists clenched. “I’ll-“

You think he looks adorable- all huffy and red and embarrassed where he sits. Katsuki’s eyebrows are pinched together in that competitive crease you’d come to know so well, his mouth curled around a familiar snarl. You were sure it must’ve looked terrfying to anyone else- but you weren’t just anyone else. You were his soulmate and you knew exactly how to get him to calm down.

You caught his face in both of your hands, crossing the distance until your lips met his. Bakugou tried to set the pace, because he always tried at first, armed with bruising pressure and dominance and uncoordinated aggression. You weren’t new here though- you had a lot more tricks of your sleeve than he did.

You ran a hand up his spine, your nails just barely catching on to the fabric of shirt, trailing the back of his neck until they landed in his hair. He damn near melted into you at that, and he pretty much dissolved when your other hand ran under the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re gonna what now?” You asked, pulling away slowly. You’re breathless and blushing yourself but that never stopped you before. “C’mon, Katsuki, tell me. What you were gonna do?”

“I-huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot?” You giggled. Unable to help yourself, you pecked his lips again. “You seemed so determined though!”

He’s still dazed- red and embarrassed as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. You can’t stop the victorious smirk that rolls across your face.

“You’re an evil fucking woman.” He finally says, breathless. “Shitty too.”

“Mhm, I know.”

“Shouldn’t sound so fuckin’ happy about it. ‘S not a compliment, idiot.”

“I know.” You pat his chest, pushing away from him until you’re standing on your own. “Now, c’mon, up. Sleep time, right?”

You see the look on his face, and it almost kills you to crush it.

“No, that doesn’t mean I’m staying, angry man. I’ll take a nap with you and then I’m going home.” You offer your hand out to him. “Sound good?”

"Whatever.” He doesn’t seem all that pleased and he bats your hand away lightly, standing on his own. He starts down the hallway towards his bedroom with stomping steps and you follow. “You better actually go to sleep though- ya got ugly fuckin’ bags under your eyes, woman.”

You stop in your tracks, a wheeze escaping you. It didn’t matter how many conversations you’d had with him, how many times he’d accidentally insulted you with his blunt words, it still surprised you every time. And maybe it was your tired state, all the sleep lost over the past few weeks finally piling up, but his words hurt a little this time- hit a nerve and made you angry. 

“Alright, well, on that note. Maybe I will go home!” You huff, thumping a fist against his back. “That was so mean! What the hell, angry man! I’m literally busting my ass right now and that’s what you have to say to me? That I’m ugly to you? That’s fucking rude! I didn’t- I’m leaving. I don’t even have enough time for this anyway and I-”

He spins around quickly, pressing you into the wall as he grabs your arm. You can’t hit him anymore, not with the sturdy grip he has on your wrist, but the look on Katsuki’s face really makes you want to. He looks insulted, tired, but mostly just annoyed by your reaction. You swear you could kill him that moment, but then he’s gathering you into his chest and you’re melting against him. He’s still your soulmate- no matter how angry he makes you.

“N-not like that. Idiot. Not ugly.” He mumbles against your hair, voice tight and shy. You didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing furiously. “I meant- I- you’re not fuckin’ sleeping. I can see it. So you have to sleep.”

“I-what?”

“I’m not fucking stupid. You’re tired- it’s obvious. Have been for weeks.”

“You noticed?”

“Course I fuckin’ did.” He shifts on feet anxiously, swaying you a bit in your arms. “See your stupid face all the time- I can tell that shit about you.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” You pull back a bit in surprise, trying catch his eyes. He won’t let you, eyes zeroed on the wall, just behind your head. His face is a violent shade of red. You roll your eyes fondly, gently guiding him to look at you with your hands on his burning cheeks. “I shouldn’t have flipped, but that still wasn’t very nice. You really should’ve just said what you meant the first time around, but it’s fine. I understand. School’s just been tough with final assignments and stuff, you know? I’m alright though- just a little tired. Like you said.”

Katsuki doesn’t seem pleased with your answer, his eyebrows creasing as he grumbles something under his breath.

“What? Couldn’t hear you, angry man.”

“I said-” He starts strong, nearly confident until his tone quickly falls off. Then he’s mumbling again and crushing you to his chest so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 

“W-what are you trying to say?”

“God, you always make me say such embarrassing shit!” He growls, voice loud next to your ear. “I said- I said- you’re doing too much, idiot! You haven’t been around much and it’s fuckin’ makin’ me mad and worryin’ me and all that stupid, disgusting, annoying, shit! So just give yourself a fuckin’ break, already!” 

You’re pressed close to Katsuki, and when you press you hand flat against his chest, you can feel his heart racing wildly under your fingertips. He must’ve been upset about this for a while, you realize- to be expending this much energy, when usually he’d be dead on his feet at this time of night. You feel a little guilty for it, but more than anything you’re gooey and warm all over. 

“I-I’m sorry. For worrying you.” You soothe, pressing a chaste kiss to his chest. “And I know you tell me not to apologize to you, but I mean it this time. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.” 

“Good. I-”

“Hmm?”

“N-nothing.” He stutters, flushing violently all of the sudden. He spins on his heels quickly, dragging you down the hallway and into his bedroom. “You have to stay now.”

“No- I can’t. I told you.”

“And I fuckin’ told you to chill the hell out and take a break.” He barks, digging through his dresser and throwing a pair of sweats at you. “Stop being fuckin’ difficult. You’re staying.” 

Truly, you want to fight him. Your brain is running wildly, a million different ideas and worries battering around inside your skull- but he’s right. You are tired. Have been tired for weeks now. If you went home now, you knew you’d just talk yourself into working some more. So maybe a tiny, tiny little break wouldn’t hurt, right? Just something small. A single night.

“Fine. But I’m leaving early tomorrow morning.”

You knew you made the right decision when he smiles at you; a small, tiny, pleased, little thing that just barely curls the edges of his mouth. It seems like it’d be hardly noticeable, but you’d been dreaming of that smile for months now. He very rarely graced you with it, very rarely shared something so delicate and uncharacteristically soft but it winded you every time. 

Katsuki fell asleep almost immediately after pulling your down into bed with him. He’d barely curled around you, hardly even let his head hit the pillow before beginning to snore. That smile stayed though. He kept it even as his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened. 

That same overwhelming warmth you’d been feeling for weeks overtook you again- that same blistering, endless affection rendering your limbs shaky and your breaths unsteady as you stared at him. 

I love him. You realized. More than anything.

--/--

As it turns out, letting Bakugou drag you into some much needed rest is exactly what you needed. 

The next morning you’d left his place, mind refreshed and completely reinvigorated to once again start working on the gauntlet attachment. You’d love to say it was just the sleep that fixed you up- but you knew the truth. It was him- him and increasingly strange ways of showing affection.

Settling down into your desk chair, you pulled the schematics you’d drawn up once more. There wasn’t much left to build, only a few more parts you’d need to fabricate with your quirk, and then you’d be ready to put it all together.

Using past records of his costumes, and studying various clips of him in his current costume, you’d finally felt certain that you’d gotten it right. It was a pain conducting the research, especially because you’d had to contact the support companies personally, but in the end you were happy you did it. You wanted this to be a possible improvement for him, but you also wanted it to fit in with his current arsenal. It was a risk for sure, giving your prototype as a gift, and you’d be totally crushed if decided to not use it, but you’d take the chance. 

Bakugou had only mentioned the problem a single time in the past, and even then it was a passing comment, but you couldn’t seem to let it go.

I’m sick of kid’s always fuckin’ cryin’ when I save them. My explosions aren’t that fuckin’ scary, are they? 

He’d said it in the middle of a rant, his eyes pressed tightly together as he paced angrily, but something about his tone struck you. When he said it, he didn’t sound angry. Bakugou sounded upset and frustrated and almost hopeless. You knew it bothered him more than he let on, and from then you wanted to help him- but you couldn’t imagine stripping him of his quirk. 

It, his explosions, were important to him. They were his power and his pride and they helped him save people. He was so, so proud of them, and it broke your heart to think that they were the only thing left holding him back. So, you figured, what if he kept the force but lost the sound? Kid’s normally liked bright lights a lot more than loud sounds, after all.

Grunting with effort, you began fabricating gears and wires and screws between your hands. It took hours and nearly all of your energy, but you’d finally done it. You had everything you needed to finish his gift. 

The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of construction, and deadlines, and sleeplessness but by the time his birthday rolled around, you were ready. Your schematics had been turned in and approved by your professors, you’d passed your final project, and you were finally finished building the prototype. Everything was going great- but you knew why you were really happy.

The last few weeks had been packed for you, and you’d hardly had time for anybody. You felt guilty about it, of course, and you only felt worse when you only heard Bakugou’s voice over the phone each night, but there was no helping it.

Or, at least, there wasn’t- but it wasn’t crunch time anymore. You’d suddenly found yourself with an wealth of free-time, and you knew exactly who you were gonna spend it on.

--/--

Using the key he’d given you, you slipped into the apartment, closing the door quietly. It was difficult in the dark, stumbling slightly with the gifts and cake currently held in your hands, but you’d managed it. Everything had gone smoothly on the way there, you’d just put the cake safely in the fridge, and now you could wake your soulmate up to the best birthday of his life.

What shame he had to go and ruin it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You jumped, heart seizing in your chest. 

“Jesus- fuck.” You yelled in the dark. You blindly felt your way out of the kitchen and into the living room, towards the sound of his voice. “Bakugou! What the fuck, man?”

“What the- no! Me! I should be the one fuckin’ saying that!” His voice was raised, and you couldn’t see his fists but you knew they were probably clenched tightly into fists. “Almost blew you up, idiot! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh my god.” You huffed, hands rubbing at your tired eyes. “I was going to wake you up! Surprise you! Because it’s your birthday and it’s- wait, what the fuck are you even doing up? It’s like 6:30 AM, on a Saturday!”  

“What the hell are you even on about? I’m always fuckin’ awake right now!”

“Yeah! On a work day! When you’re working!” You can’t help but be frustrated; you wanted to be cute and sweet and Bakugou had ruined it entirely. As he so often did. “But you’re not even working today! It’s your day off! And I know you sleep in on those, so why?”

“Couldn’t fuckin’ slee-”

“What do you mean?” You interrupt, finally flipping the light switch and flooding the room with light. “Swear to god you’re dead to the world the second you hit the pillow! Literally happens every time I stay over. You’re out by 8:30! Why is today of all days the day you choose not to sleep?”

He doesn’t say anything in response to your outburst, and that’s when you finally look at him. It had been almost 3 weeks since you’d last visited, and he didn’t look like you remembered him. It wasn’t anything super obvious at first, but upon closer inspection you could see the deep bags under his eyes, and the pale, lifelessness of his skin. He was telling the truth; apparently, he really hadn’t be able to sleep- and it didn’t start just last night either.

“Hey. Katsuki,” Your irritation from earlier faded. Suddenly filled with concern, you stepped towards him, taking his face in your hands. Bakugou tried to turn away, but you didn’t let him. “What’s up, huh? You alright?”

“Fine.”

“No. You’re not. You look tired. Are you sick?”

“No.” He mumbled, his hands falling on your waist as you stood in front of him. “I’m fine. Workin’ a lot or whatever. I’m fuckin’ fine.”

You nod, eyebrows rising in surprise as he suddenly pulls you in. He presses his face into your stomach, arms around your sides as he shuts his eyes. There it is again- that unusual physicality. This strange behavior had stopped for a while recently, but now it seemed to be back in full-force.

“Do you wanna try sleeping again?” You ask after a beat. “I’ve got birthday stuff for you, but we can do always do it later. We’ve got the whole day, right?”

“What- you plannin’ to actually be here or some shit?” He grumbles, with a lot more intentional bite than you’re used to hearing from him. “I’m surprised. Didn’t know an idiot like you still had the fuckin’ brain cells to remember.” 

You’re shocked, rendered completely still and stiff in his hold. Was he- was he mad at you? 

“What?” You try to push away from him, to get a look at his face, but he doesn’t let you. Bakugou’s arms only tighten and you’re left even more confused. “Are you upset with me? Are you tired? What’s wrong?”

“You really fuckin’ piss me off.”

“What?” 

He only growls under his breath, voice raspy and deep. “Whatever. You don’t fuckin’ get it. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“No- but I-” You stutter, feeling out of place. Katsuki sounded so frustrated and angry and you couldn’t figure out what was wrong. “If you’re upset with me we need to talk about it. What happened? What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t respond to your question, only knocks your feet out from under you and stands with you in his arms. You’re dumbfounded. He has never, not ever, carried you anywhere. He’s never even made an attempted to lift you! Something was seriously off with him today- and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was. 

Katsuki was mad at you. You knew that, he’d said it himself. But then why was he carrying you down the hall to his bedroom? Why wasn’t he kicking you out?

He kicks open the door, pushing it shut loudly behind him. He looks pissed when you look up at him, his eyebrow’s creased together in an agitated line, but even so, Katsuki sets you down on the bed gently. You’re hardly able to catch your breath when he’s climbing in on the other side, pulling you close and lying practically on top of you.

“What? I- Katsuki?” You asked desperately, brain reeling. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand?”

“I’m fuckin’ tired, woman. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t! Not when you’re upset like this- seriously, what’s wrong?”

“You. You’re what’s fuckin’ wrong!”

“What?”

“God, you’re so fucking dense!” He growls, angry voice vibrating against the skin of your neck. “Fuckin’ showin’ up in the mornin’ like nothin’s wrong? Been avoiding me for weeks now!” 

“What- no! We literally called last night! What are you talking about?”

“We called for 2 fuckin’ minutes before you fell asleep! And you-” His voice drops suddenly, and then he’s pressing even closer to you, starting up once again. “You piss me the hell off, you know! Sayin’ shit about how you’re gonna do better and then leavin’ for weeks? Not talkin’ to me? What the fuck is that? And then you sneak in here and scare the shit out of me! And you’re running your stupid fucking mouth about the whole day when you’re not even gonna be her-”

Oh. Oh.

He was mad because you’d been busy; because the last time you’d seen him, Bakugou had told he was worried about you, and you blew him off. The last time you’d seen him, you’d promised that you’d take better care of yourself and then you didn’t. All you did was continue working yourself to death, and while you didn’t regret it for even a second, you hadn’t kept him in the loop. You’d barely even managed to call him each night, and even then you’d fall asleep half-way through every conversation.

“Have you been worried this whole time?” You asked quietly.

Bakugou takes a deep, shaky breath, and you can feel his eyelashes flutter against your neck. 

“You were worried.” You whisper. “Weren’t you?”

He nods minutely.

“I-I didn’t realize. I told you- but I didn’t realize. I was so focused on school, so busy, I’m so sorry.” You press a kiss into his hair, your heart sinking when his shoulders tremble. “I missed you too.”

“I didn’t fuckin’- I didn’t-”

“I know. I said it. I’m saying it. I’m sorry, Katsu. I missed you.” You sigh, tightening your arms around him. “Is that why you’re not sleeping well?”

Bakugou is silent but he tenses, going completely rigid under your hands. Your stomach drops.

“It’s-I’m good. Really, this time. Everything’s done. I’m completely finished and everything is gonna go back to normal.” You cradle his face, making him look into your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. We’re good.”

“Are we?”

“What?”

Bakugou shakes your hold, tucking his head until you can’t see his eyes anymore. You can hardly see any of his features, but you see the wobbly line of his mouth. Can feel the shaking of his fingers. When he speaks again, it’s quiet. Barely there.

“Didn’t mean it, last time, when I said your eyebags were ugly. You’re not ugly.”

You blink, hardly able to recall the conversation. Wasn’t that the last time you had visited? Weeks ago? Why was he still thinking about it?

Bakugou huffs again, apparently frustrated by your silence.

“So I’m s-sorry. For insulting you. So now you don’t have to disappear again.” 

Your eyes widened.

“You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”

You remember how upset he’d been when you’d made the joke- how his shoulder’s dropped and his eyebrows caved and his mouth smoothed out into a thin line. Was that really the last time you’d visited? Did he think you were mad at him this whole time? 

 Guilt flooded you, awful and thick and viscous as it tore through your stomach. You had to make him understand. You just had to.

“No. I- Katsuki. Look at me. Look at me.” You insist until he’s looking at you. His eyes are the dullest you’ve ever seen them- more vulnerable than ever before. “I didn’t- I was just busy, I promise! Not upset. I didn’t mean to ice you out like that. It’s fine! I know you didn’t mean it.”

Katsuki growls, grasping for your hand and hiding his face behind it. “I didn’t- I’m sick of stupid angry shit I say ruinin’ stuff for me. So don’t just fuckin’ say it’s fine if it’s not.” 

“It is. I promise. We’re good.” You soothe, caressing his burning cheeks with your knuckle. “That was a bad joke, okay- I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have said it if I knew it was gonna make you worry so much. I promise I was just busy these last few weeks. Nothing you say is ever gonna get rid of me, alright? Not even if you tried! Because I love you and I-”

“You what?” 

You freeze, shifting uncomfortably as your cheeks heated up. This was not how you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him like you meant it, not just tacked onto the back of a bunch of other statements. He’d heard though, and no matter what you wanted, you couldn’t run from it.

“You what?” He asks again.

“I-I love you. Katsuki, I love you.”

Bakugou jolts, nearly jumps out of his skin and then he’s digging his face into your neck. He’s hot, his skin nearly burning, and there’s a strangled, clipped noise leaving his mouth. You’re filled with so much adoration in that moment that it nearly chokes you, but it’s freeing too, because you’ve said it. Finally. After waiting your entire life for him, after knowing him for so many months, after loving him for so long, he knew.

“I love you.” You repeated again, giggling breathlessly. “I love you, you dummy.” 

He finally lifts his head, expression so full of awe and disbelief and childlike confusion. It’s just like the first time you’d really kissed him; like he couldn’t figure out why you loved him. It was like those first few days all over again and you couldn’t help it. You loved him so much.

Grabbing his chin, you pulled him in, guiding until his lips met yours. You felt him smile as you kissed him, and you realized you were wrong. That first real kiss might’ve been nice; but it wasn’t heaven- itwas only the gateway to paradise. But this? This was the real Elysium. 

His body moved against yours, so close and warm and pliant. He was letting you set the pace, without resistance or force or argument for the very first time. There had been a lot of past kisses, you had hardly been able to keep yourself off of him, but none of them had never felt like this before. He’d never trusted you like this before. You got to be the one taking and taking and taking where’d you spent so long giving. 

It was consummation. Finality. Your perfect ending. 

You pull away, panting for breath. He follows, resting on his forearms and dropping his forehead to yours. 

“I-I- I love you. Too. Idiot woman.” 

You laugh under him, cackling loudly as you turn to press a kiss into his forearms. Of course he’d said it like that. It’s tough love or not at all with Bakugou Katsuki- and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Stop laughing!” He orders, face screwed up uncomfortably. “You’re always fuckin’ laughing at me! You fuckin’ witch! Stop it! It’s- I’m not- I take it back! I don’t- stop makin’ fun of me, shitty wom-”

“Hey, Katsuki?”

“Oh my fucking god! You laugh at me and then you go thinkin’ your just gonna interrupt me while I’m yellin’ at you? No fuckin’ way! I’m not gonna allow that shit in my own fuckin’ house and I-”

“Katsuki.” 

“Jesus christ! What?”

“I love you.” 

He freezes entirely, collasping his entire weight directly on top of you. He’s so hot it’s like his skin is burning. You wrap your arms around him with a happy giggle, burrowing your own blushing face into his hair. 

“I love you.” You whisper, slow and earnest against the shell of his ear. “I really, really, really love you, angry man.” 

He startles again, jumps in your arms and only seems to run hotter. He groans something strangled and defeated, until he’s sinking into you again, pressing you against the mattress.

“S-s-stop fuckin’ saying it. You’re doing it on fuckin’ purpose.”

“Doing what?”

“You fuckin’ know, you witch woman.”

“No, I really, really, dont.” You say indulgently, laughing as you drop kisses into his hair. “Care to share?”

“No. Fuck no. I’m fuckin’ done sharing. Forever.” 

You rolls your eyes, once again enduring his very familiar dramatics. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Katsuki. I was just happy to hear it- that you love me too.”

“Well, remember it, because I’m never fuckin’ saying it again.”

“Not even if I say it to you?”

“Especially not fucking then.” 

“You’re so difficult sometimes, I swear. You’re really lucky I love you so much.” You say softly, before scratching idly at the back of his head. “Now, c’mon. Get off me. I didn’t forget- you need to go to sleep.” 

“I’m sleeping here.”

“No you’re not, you man-child. You’re gonna crush me.” 

“Good.” 

“No, not good. You wanna celebrate your birthday with a murder charge?”

“Yes.”

“Katsuki.” You laugh, pressing against his chest. “Seriously. Up. You’re supposed to use those muscles to save people not kill them.”

He just groans loudly, flopping backwards gracelessly. Katsuki is pulling the blanket up and shutting his eyes, and you think everything is finally okay. Until he clears his throat. Until keeps clearing his throat.

“Oh my god,” You huff, opening your eyes. “What’s wrong now?”

“Say it again, idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You know what I’m asking you.”

When you look at him, he’s got his eyes screwed shut, his cheeks red. You thought he was adorable- just the cutest man in all of Japan. You knew what he was asking, of course you did, and if he hadn’t been so upset earlier you would’ve made him work a lot harder for it. As it stood now though, you just scooted closer to him; shifting until you were right next to his blushing face and sharing the same pillow.

“I love you.” You say, running a gentle thumb over his heated cheek. “Now go to sleep, okay?”

You can see the smile he’s fighting, the way his lip twitches and he raises a hand to cover it. Then he’s pulling you close and digging his head into the pillow.

All is quiet, and finally, finally, he gets some sleep.

—/—

Katsuki, on a good day, was an absolute beast to wake up- on a day off however? The man was damn near impossible to stir. 

You were squatted next to the bed, trying to pull the pillow out from under his head as he held it in his grip. It was absolutely unfair- even at his groggiest your soulmate had the strength of a one man army. It was seriously pissing you off. 

“Are you kidding me right now?” You’re grabbing at his wrist, trying to pry his fingers away from the pillow but he’s not budging. Katsuki’s got his eyes shut tight, and he’s dutifully ignoring your every word. “I’m serious! It’s noon! Get up already!”

He finally peaks one eye open, just barely enough to see your irritated expression. Katsuki huffs, rips his pillow away from you completely, and flops on his other side. His back was to you, and normally you’d be thrilled about the free chance to drool over the planes of muscle- but this wasn’t a normal occasion. It was his birthday and you’d already made him breakfast and he was refusing to get up and eat it. 

“Bakugou Katsuki, I swear to god, if you’re not up in two seconds, I’m not gonna kiss you for a fucking week!” 

This does seem to illicit a response from him, because then he’s flipping back over, mouth pulled into a snarl.

“You think I care? You starved me out for fuckin’ weeks already!”

You want to roll your eyes. You thought he was being awfully dramatic and you knew you really shouldn’t stand for it- but he wasn’t technically wrong. However inadvertently, you had been neglecting him, and maybe it was time to treat him instead. Just this once. 

“Oh my god, you silly man, come here.” You relent, climbing onto the bed and hovering over him. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just asked.” 

“I-didn’t! When the fuck did I say that because I-”

You pressed your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. It was a trick you’d learned early on, but damn if it wasn’t still useful. You pulled away right when he started to get handsy.

“No. Bad.” You say, batting his hands away from slipping under your shirt. “I didn’t just waste all that time trying to get you out of bed just to be pulled in. Now, c’mon, you have breakfast to eat and presents to open- it’s your big day, birthday boy.”

“Fuckin’ exactly. Let me do what I want.”

“No, because if I let you do what you wanted you’d sleep all day and only wake  to go blow something up.”

“Sounds like fucking bliss.”

“Alright, well then I guess you’re gonna have to experience nirvana all by yourself because I’m going to eat.” You pat his chest, climbing off the bed and standing straight. 

Bakugou grumbles under his breath, but then the blankets are rustling and he’s rising to follow you out the door. He tears into the breakfast you’d made him, shoveling eggs and bacon and pancakes down his throat at an almost inhuman pace. You would cringe, but you’d seen this scene already many times before. 

“You ready for presents, now?” You ask, putting the dishes in the sink.

“Sure. ‘m not a fuckin’ kid though, you didn’t have t-”

“I wanted to. Seriously. So be quiet and be a little selfish for once. Please.” 

He nods tightly, following you into the living room. He’s settling on the couch, once again rubbing at his eyes when you bring the gifts over. There’s three of them in total and he chooses to open the smallest one first.

“Fuck- this a new watch?”

“Yep.” You nod. “To replace the one you blew up last month.”

“When the- how the hell did you-”

“I have my ways. Now, seriously, promise me you’re gonna be careful with this one.”

“Okay.”

“Katsuki, that’s not a promise.”

“I’m not gonna just fuckin-”

“Say it.”

“No! Why the hell should I have to fuckin’ say shit just because you were spyin’ on me, you freak!”

“Katsuki.” You glare him down. “Promise me.”

“Jesus fuck, woman. Fine. I promise I won’t blast this one to pieces, alright?” He rolls his eyes. “Ya all happy and cheery now?”

“Very.” You smile brightly, moving to grab the second gift and place it in his hands. “Here’s the next one, open it.”

You watched him set the watch aside carefully, before taking the second gift. He might’ve been grumbling, but he couldn’t completely hide the smile trying to stretch across his face. You were glad you made the effort- he deserved every good thing and more.

“This is a jar.” He says flatly, looking down at the unwrapped gift. “What the hell?”

“It’s a swear jar. You know, for practicing how not to offend everyone within a .2 mile radius.” You deapan, taking the excess wrapping paper from him to throw it out. “You gotta work on it, Katsu- news has to censor you so much that your public appearances sound like EDM music.” 

“I’m gonna blow this up.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“No. You’re not.” You laugh. Then you lean towards him, sidling up close and lowering your voice as you run thumb across his jaw. “And, hey, if you figure out how to make it through the week without filling it up, I’ll give you something really, really nice as a reward.”

“Reward?” He’s asks, quickly putting down the jar. You know the look in his eyes, and you’re not surprised when his hands wander to your waist. “’s empty now, right? Think I fuckin’ deserve it. Huh, sunshine?”

“Nope. Sorry, Katsu.” You smile sweetly, dodging as he leans in for a kiss. “It’s saturday- week doesn’t start until tomorrow!” 

He groans, loudly, falling boneless against the couch and tugging you with him.

“You make me want to blow my fuckin’ self up. You know that, you shitty woman?” 

“Aw, thanks. Now, cheer up- you’ve still got one left to open.” You say, patting his grimacing face.

You shake his hold, just barely avoiding when he tries to pull you back as you grab the last present. This box is a little different from the last two, you’d spent extra time trying to make sure it was wrapped nicely and you’d even tied a ribbon around it. You hoped he’d like the gauntlet attachment- you didn’t think you’d be able to hide your disappointment if he didn’t.

“Yeah, so this next one,” You start, placing the box in his hand delicately. “I made it for you myself. Designed it too.”

He pulls the ribbon on the box, tearing away the paper. It’s like time stops for a moment, rolling nerves arresting you and choking your breath. You’re nervous and you feel like shaking and you so desperately want him to like the gift. Want him understand just how much work you’d put in for him and just how easily you’d do it all over again.

“Yeah so it’s an attachment for your grenade gauntlets, right?” You start, right when he’s pulling the device from the box and holding it in his hands. “I was thinking- wouldn’t it be nice if you could quiet your explosions sometimes? You know, for when you’re saving civilians and kids and stuff so they’re not so scared. Basically it works kind of similar to a suppressor on a gun, dispersing and slowing down the blast just a little to muffle the sound, but it’s just a little more high-tech and way more powerful- to match your quirk. Obviously. And it’s adjustable so, if, for whatever reason, you needed to wear it outside of your costume, you can collapse it slip it on like a bracelet and-”

Bakugou is silent. He’s almost frozen as he stares down at the gift, only twisting the gift around in his hands to get a better look. His eyebrows crease, and your stomach drops.

“No- it’s- please don’t get mad! It’s not supposed to offend you or anything! I-I know you don’t need my help to save people, you can do it all on your own, I know that.” You rub your arm anxiously, eyes averted to the floor. “I’m just trying to help- you know, because you always talk about your ratings going up, and I’m sure you could totally do it on your own, I know you could, but I just wanted to help you cause that’s what I do, support, and I can’t help you out on the field and I-”

Pop.

Pop pop pop pop pop

When you finally look up at him, you’re blinded by the smile on his face. It’s bright, and beaming, and brilliant as he fires off explosions. You can see the light dancing on his hands, the force of combustion shooting his arm back, but it’s quiet. It sounds like pop rocks and bacon grease and popcorn instead of cracking thunder and collapsing buildings and then he’s laughing- he’s laughing something full and joyful as he stands, holding his hands up right next to his ears and setting off more explosions.

“You hear this shit?” He yells, that wide smile dazzling you all over again. “Fuckin’ works!”

The nerves disappeared, the tension seeping from your body entirely as he grinned at you. It was worth it. Entirely worth it- you’d give anything, start all over and do it all again from the start just to see that smile. 

“You wanna hear?” He asks suddenly, nearing you with his hands raised. “Listen!”

“No! No- I’m- I’m good, Katsuki.” You laugh, batting his hands away from your head. “I can hear it just fine from here, no need to singe my hair.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“I know.” You smile up at him, poking his broad chest. “So you like it? Right? Because it’s just a prototype, first draft, you know, so if there’s anything you want to change about it, let me know. Or if you just don’t want it I-”

“I’m fuckin’ keepin’ it.”

“Huh?”

“I’m keepin’ it. It’s cool as shit.” He smiles down at you, eyes crinkled at the edges. “Besides, stealth, right? Could blow a fucker up in the next room and you wouldn’t even know it!”

“But I- I made them for you to save people? Like to help them?”

“And they could be used to blow shit up more effectively too. Win fucking win.” Katsuki pulls you in suddenly, arms falling familiarly around your waist. “Good shit, sunshine. Thanks.” 

“Of course.” You sigh, looking down at your feet. “That’s what I was doing- when I was gone. Designing it for my project grade and then building it for you. Sorry I got so carried away, I didn’t realize I was gone so long, you know?” 

“You’re still stupid for it, but it’s fine. Fuckin’ get it.” He grumbles. “You’re done now or whatever, right?”

“With school? Yeah I mean, I’ve still got graduation and stuff but otherwise I’m pretty much-

“Move in with me.”

“Huh?”

“God, you always make me fuckin’ say it again!” He flusters, voice loud and raspy. “I said- move in! Here! You’re fuckin’ disappearin’ all the goddamn time to wherever the fuck and I’m sick of it!”

“Y-you want me to move in? 

“That’s what I just fuckin’ said! Idiot!” He thunders, face a violent red when you look up at him. “And I’m not gonna fuckin’ say it again so you either have to say yes or no because I-”

“Yes. Obviously. Of course I’ll move in!” You say, warmth filling your chest as you throw your arms around his neck. “I love you, of course I will!” 

You see the smile he can’t contain- one so dazzling and arresting, as he looks at you. One exactly similar to the brilliant one from earlier. You couldn’t believe that sentiment made you emotional- the thought that you made him just as happy as explosions did, of all things. But it did make you emotional. It really, really, did.

“What’re you- stop cryin’.” He says suddenly, calloused fingers catching your tears. “Why’re you cryin’? I didn’t even say anythin’ rude this time!” 

“No, it’s not that.” You sniffle, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “I’m just happy. Really, really happy. I love you, you angry fucking man.”

Katsuki leans in for another kiss, and you don’t dodge it this time. You meet him in the middle and melt into him just as much as he melts into you. You can feel his hand under your chin, the other on your back, and you don’t think you’ve ever been warmer than in that moment.

You’d been waiting your entire life for him. For all of this. You were warm and loved and so very, very happy that it nearly knocked you off your feet. 

Or it would’ve- but when your knees weakened he just held you closer, righting you without missing a beat. You suddenly loved him for that, and for everything else too. You loved him for all that he was and his angry words and his subtle gestures. He was sizzling gunpowder and sharp steel and seared ashes, but he was the softest landing you’d ever known too. There was no hitting the ground with him, and he’d never let you fall alone. 

You’d know Katsuki was forever since the day your tattoo appeared, but it didn’t truly sink in until you’d learned to love him. Until you’d known him. Now you knew him like the back of your hand; you saw his face behind your eyelids, heard his voice in your dreams, and thought about his touch every waking moment. He was your other-half, as scary and loud and intense as he was, and you wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

He pulls away suddenly, and when you glance up at him he’s staring right at you. 

“I love you.”

Your breath catches. You thought you were thrilled to hear the words last night- but it was nothing in comparison to now. Bakugou was finally looking at you, catching your gaze and holding eye-contact and his voice was soft like you’d never heard it before. His tone was bare, no anger or attitude or bite- just him and three little words that took your breath away.

In that moment, Katsuki is the only person in the entire world. There was no one else and no other conclusion, and of course you ended up here. He was the only ending you’d ever surrender to. The only finality that could ever possibly taste so sweet. 

And suddenly, all at once, you loved him all over again. 

//-//

i- sob. plS this was so much fun to write and im gonna miss it sm !! 

once again, thank u to everyone who liked and commented and reblogged any part of this! this is the first ever multi-chapter fanfic i’ve ever written , and i really really was nervous about my characterization and writing and stuff, but you all made me feel so welcome here.  i appreciate it sm. way more than any of you know.

anyways, thank u once again for reading lovelies and i hope u all stay safe. i love y’all. <333

[basic-otaku]

My thoughts on Xue Yang's character (based on the drama and novel)

Xue Yang is a character I didn’t fully understand until I finished The Untamed. I looked back on him with a bit of pity but little understanding. It wasn’t until I listened to his character song that I truly began to dissect his character. Reading those lyrics completely flipped my perspective on him, and I went back to watch the Yi City arc again. I was shocked by how much I had missed. Xue Yang has since become one of my favorite characters of the series. I’ve spent so much time thinking about him and his motives that I finally decided to write down my thoughts. This analysis comes mostly from what I perceived, so it may differ from other people’s opinions. You are free to disagree with me.

Let’s start with what we know: Xue Yang was a street kid with a hard childhood. We know he was abandoned at a young age, but we don’t know how young. However, he must have been old enough to survive, so he couldn’t have been younger than four when he started fending for himself. We don’t know who his parents are because he doesn’t remember them, nor does he remember anyone else who had potentially taken care of him. His parents could be dead for all we know, or they could have dumped him somewhere when they no longer wanted to take care of him. It’s all up to speculation. He also has a very high pain tolerance, probably due to constant beatings as a child.

When you’re all alone in the world, you have to learn to put yourself first. There’s no one to care for you, so only you can care for yourself. I believe that Xue Yang wasn’t always a bad person because no one is inherently evil. However, because he was alone, there was no one to nurture him and teach him right from wrong. When all you experience is violence and hatred, that becomes your response to similar situations; you don’t expect kindness or want to give it in return.

One of Xue Yang’s flaws as a child was his naivety — he was much too quick to trust. That’s how he got himself into such a bad situation. He was eager to have something he was never able to have (candy), so he immediately trusted that shopkeeper when he said he could have some as a reward for running an errand. What he got in return wasn’t candy, but a brutal beating and a severed pinky. If Xue Yang had still had any faith left in humanity, this is the point where it would have left him. The remaining childhood innocence in him was gone. This brings me to an interesting piece of dialogue. In Yi City, when Xue Yang confronts Song Lan and tells him what he’s been up to, Song Lan curses at him, calling him an animal. Xue Yang laughs at him and says, “I quit using those words when I was seven.” And what happened to Xue Yang’s finger? “One finger was ground into battered flesh on the spot. The child was seven.” Even Xue Yang himself knows that moment was when everything changed, and he still carries the resentment with him now.

Back to the cart incident. This event scarred him for life and was the primary reason he became a sociopath. Now he’s bent on revenge. He was powerless as a child; just another street rat who shouldn’t be treated like a human being nor spared any pity. So, when he realizes he can do the same to those that hurt him, he takes it much further. When he was old enough and strong enough, he exacts his revenge. He wanted to make the Chang Clan feel his pain — not only for the finger he had lost but for his whole miserable life up to that point. If no one deigned to understand him, then he’d make them understand in the only way he knew how. With violence.

Xue Yang was only fifteen or sixteen when he slaughtered the Chang Clan, killing more than fifty people. This is where he meets Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. From the first moment, Xue Yang hates Xiao Xingchen. He’s so righteous, so full of light. He thinks he makes the world better just by doing a little good. What a hypocrite. Where was he when he was needed? Where was he when Xue Yang was a seven-year-old boy left crying in the streets after having his finger ground to a pulp? No, nobody can be that good.

When Xue Yang is captured by Wei Wuxian and the others, Xiao Xingchen takes him back to Qinghe to be apprehended, and Xue Yang vows to get his revenge on Xiao Xingchen for it. It isn��t long after he escapes from Qinghe that Xue Yang slaughters Baixue Temple, blinding Song Lan in the process. According to Xue Yang’s logic, hurting Xiao Xingchen’s friend is just as bad as hurting Xiao Xingchen himself. This is what causes the rift between Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. Without this incident, Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen may never have met again.

A few years have likely passed while Xue Yang was working for Jin Guangyao. He is probably closer to eighteen or nineteen when Jin Guangyao injures him and throws him out, which is how Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing find him. Xiao Xingchen doesn’t hesitate in bringing Xue Yang back to Yi City with him and A-Qing and caring for his wounds. Xue Yang wakes up pained and disoriented, but he immediately tries to back away when he realizes who is tending to him. He doesn’t know Xiao Xingchen is unaware of his identity, and probably thinks that Xiao Xingchen is getting ready to take him to face justice or something. But Xiao Xingchen insists that he doesn’t need to know who Xue Yang is and that he’s only doing what’s right. Xue Yang is clearly shocked by this admission. He truly cannot comprehend kindness, and this is the first time he’s ever experienced it.

This is also the first time we get to see his genuine smile. It’s shocked and incredulous, like he can’t believe this is happening, but it’s there. Throughout the series, Xue Yang’s snarky words and sly smirk are a token of his character, but now we know they are just a mask he uses to hide the small, broken child inside of him. If no one can see the hurt he hides, then no one can hurt him further. But with just one kind gesture, Xiao Xingchen was able to bring out the young boy who just wanted love and comfort.

This kindness is such a foreign concept to Xue Yang that he doesn’t think it’s genuine for a long time. But as the years pass, Xue Yang comes to realize that Xiao Xingchen isn’t a threat. This is something he scoffs at. Xiao Xingchen is ridiculously naïve; so stupid. If he knew who he was living with, who he was eating with, he wouldn’t act like this. He would treat Xue Yang the same way everyone else had. So, Xue Yang decides to trick Xiao Xingchen into murdering innocent people for revenge. Xue Yang can’t wait for Xiao Xingchen to find out what Xue Yang has made him do because it’ll break him. What this revenge is for is up to interpretation. Maybe he’s still angry about being captured and sent to Qinghe. Maybe he’s angry at the world for treating him so badly. Maybe Xue Yang wants to show Xiao Xingchen that his worldview is stupid and that there are no good or pure people in the world. I choose to believe that it’s the last one.

At least, this is his motivation at first — he slowly loses the will to harm Xiao Xingchen. This brings me to another interesting point. In episode three, Xue Yang says he doesn’t fear death, he fears boredom. But isn’t this domestic life he’s living with Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing considered boring by his standards? I think the boredom he speaks of is really the fear of being alone and having nothing at all. Now he’s happy, however reluctantly he’s willing to admit it. He wouldn’t have put up with A-Qing’s petulant behavior if he didn’t enjoy the time they spent together. Although they didn’t get along at first, Xue Yang protects A-Qing and takes care of her like an annoying older brother. He teases her, sure, but he also cuts her apple slices in the shape of rabbits and gives her advice on how to scare away the people who bully her (even though killing them isn’t great advice). Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing were the family he never had. Now he would do anything to preserve the life he is living.

After about a year, Xue Yang’s plan stopped being about revenge. I’m not completely sure how he justified this change of heart, but I like to think he told himself he was still biding his time and that he’d get back to it eventually (even if he had stopped thinking about hurting Xiao Xingchen). Based on what A-Qing told Song Lan when he arrived at Yi City, Xue Yang hadn’t taken Xiao Xingchen out on one of those night hunts in a long time. And most of the people that Xue Yang made Xiao Xingchen kill were the merchants that made fun of his blindness and cheated him with bad vegetables and high prices. It was a messed-up way to get revenge for Xiao Xingchen. Xue Yang hates being looked down on, so shouldn’t Xiao Xingchen feel the same way?

Nevertheless, the time they spent in Yi City was probably the only time Xue Yang had been happy in his entire life. Xiao Xingchen was so in tune with what Xue Yang needed that Xue Yang came to care for him deeply. Whether those feelings were romantic or platonic in nature is up to the viewer, but I believe Xue Yang had fallen in love with Xiao Xingchen in the only sick and twisted way he could. Xiao Xingchen understood him more than anyone ever had, going so far as to listen to his idle ramblings and bring him a piece of candy every day after hearing that he had loved sweets as a child but could never have any. He managed to tame the savage beast in Xue Yang’s heart with only his presence and basic human decency. Xue Yang’s bloodlust was satiated as long as he had Xiao Xingchen to take care of him. At this point, I don’t think he would ever actually kill Xiao Xingchen. He had stopped wanting to hurt him a long time ago. A-Qing? Sure. She’s expendable, but Xiao Xingchen is irreplaceable. Even if Xue Yang reluctantly came to care about her, it wasn’t the same kind of bond. She had never shown him the same kindness that Xiao Xingchen had. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if she betrayed him, but she was important to Xiao Xingchen, which meant he couldn’t do her any harm if he didn’t want to disrupt their happy life.

If Song Lan hadn’t found them, how long would Xue Yang have stayed? I don’t even think he knew. He just knew that he didn’t want to leave anymore. Xiao Xingchen gave him too much for him to want that. The viewer can easily see the happiness in his eyes when he looks at Xiao Xingchen. Xue Yang acts like a kid around him — playing games, joking around, making him laugh with childish remarks. Even in the quiet moments, he’s happy. This was especially noticeable in the campfire scene. It wasn’t shown in the original drama, but in the special edition, Xue Yang smiled at Xiao Xingchen from across the fire, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at his daozhang was so tender that it honestly caught me off guard. It seemed to catch Xue Yang off guard too because he caught himself, and the smile slowly fell. It’s like he realized what he’s doing and remembered that this should be about revenge.

Where in the past, Xue Yang hated Xiao Xingchen for his righteousness, he now loves him for his naivety. Without it, Xue Yang knows that Xiao Xingchen would be disgusted with himself. There would be no more laughs, no more games, and no more smiles. Then Xue Yang would lose the one person who didn’t treat him like dirt. So, when Song Lan finds them, Xue Yang immediately perceives it as a threat to their domestic life. He knows how important Song Lan is to Xiao Xingchen, and there’s no doubt in his mind that Xiao Xingchen won’t hesitate to leave with Song Lan when he discovers Xue Yang’s identity.

Furthermore, Xue Yang resents Song Lan for taking Xiao Xingchen’s eyes (even though it was voluntary on Xiao Xingchen’s part and was essentially Xue Yang’s fault). His logic tells him that having Xiao Xingchen kill Song Lan would be the perfect way for Xiao Xingchen to get his revenge. What Xue Yang doesn’t understand is that not everyone thinks about things in the context of revenge. I don’t believe Xiao Xingchen ever truly regretted giving up his sight. But Xue Yang can’t comprehend how someone could be that selfless.

This is where it all falls apart. A-Qing sees what happened to Song Lan, and she runs to Xiao Xingchen and tells him everything. When Xiao Xingchen comes back to confront him, Xue Yang spills it all. There’s nothing left for him to lose. His mask falls again, and he basically bares his soul to Xiao Xingchen. This is probably the first time he’s told the story about his finger, and I think he genuinely thought Xiao Xingchen was going to understand him; that if he knew what Xue Yang went through, he’d sympathize with him and justify his action (thereby justifying his feelings). Instead of that, however, Xiao Xingchen calls him disgusting, and it flips a switch inside of Xue Yang. How can Xiao Xingchen call him disgusting when he’s killed people too?

I think one of the reasons Xue Yang led Xiao Xingchen to kill those people was to bring Xiao Xingchen down to his level. Xue Yang doesn’t think that anyone can be as good as Xiao Xingchen claimed to be, so he had to taint his perfect record. Maybe if he killed people, Xiao Xingchen would understand him. Xue Yang thought that when Xiao Xingchen found out, he’d stay with him. Now he’s not the same righteous person he used to be, so how could he be good enough to travel the world with Song Lan? No, he should stay with Xue Yang instead and live a happy life together.

So, when Xiao Xingchen calls him disgusting, Xue Yang was probably confused and upset, which made him instinctively put his mask back up. Being vulnerable only hurt him again, so he’s back to harsh words and smirks, telling Xiao Xingchen that this is why he’s always hated him and that all of this was fun. Fun in every sense of the word: the killing and the happiness.

Xiao Xingchen finding out that he killed Song Lan was the last straw. Xue Yang is still laughing as Xiao Xingchen slits his own throat. It takes a moment for the realization to set in, but as it does, the smile falls from Xue Yang’s lips, and his hands begin to shake. This is the third time his mask has fallen. His eyes begin to well with tears, but he tries to keep up his act, saying that dead ones are easier to control, but the only one he’s acting for is himself.

The next scene is the one that really solidified Xue Yang’s feelings for me. He cleans the blood from Xiao Xingchen’s skin with the same care that Xiao Xingchen had shown him when he first found Xue Yang in that ditch. Xue Yang clearly thinks that Xiao Xingchen is going to come back and that the ritual will work, that he staves off his tears and sets out food for both of them. He considers eating his candy but then decides he should wait until Xiao Xingchen comes back. If he’s back, then Xue Yang is sure to get another piece.

When he realizes that the ritual isn’t working and Xiao Xingchen isn’t coming back, he breaks down. The tantrum he throws is so full of rage and anguish that it really shows the depth of his feelings for Xiao Xingchen. Again, he goes back to acting, trying to guilt Xiao Xingchen’s dead body into coming back to life by telling him all the terrible things he’ll do to Song Lan and A-Qing if he doesn’t reawaken. Obviously, Xiao Xingchen can’t hear him, and Xue Yang knows this, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He finally dissolves into tears, screaming and crying over Xiao Xingchen’s corpse. This may have been the first time he’s cried since he lost his finger. Crying is for innocent, naïve children, and it doesn’t help anybody. But now Xue Yang has had a taste of pure sweetness and doesn’t want to go back to the bitter life he has known, so he finally lets himself weep for all the things he could have had.

Xue Yang spent the next seven years trying to bring Xiao Xingchen back to life with no success. We don’t know much about his activities after Yi City, but we have gotten information through rumors that Shuanghua was being used to kill innocents. It seems like Xue Yang wanted to keep a part of Xiao Xingchen with him. He even continued his sick revenge plot after Xiao Xingchen’s death by gouging out the eyes of and killing the remains of the Chang Clan, including their leader, Chang Ping, by lingchi. Xue Yang doesn’t blame himself in the slightest; he just thinks that Xiao Xingchen’s death was an unfortunate consequence of the situation. He will put the blame on anyone and everyone other than himself. Thus, instead of performing lingchi on himself like Wei Wuxian suggested, he takes out his anger on the remains of the Chang Clan.

Everything Xue Yang does in the present is tied to Xiao Xingchen, yet he still can’t bring him back. So, when he heard that the Yiling Patriarch had suddenly come back to life, Xue Yang knew it was his last chance. The sword ghost/ghost arm is what led Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji to Yi City. It was pointing to its murderer. I’m sure Xue Yang could have avoided a confrontation if he wanted, but this was intentional. As for the juniors, I have a feeling that Xue Yang was behind the cat corpses that led them to meet up with Wei Wuxian. This is still unclear though because Xue Yang doesn’t have a real reason to get them involved. The only person he needs is Wei Wuxian.

Xue Yang has tried everything at this point. So, when Wei Wuxian finds him in Yi City, pretending to be Xiao Xingchen, he is completely desperate. I do wonder if that is something he has done more than once. Did he often go around dressed as Xiao Xingchen? Was he playing with the life they had in Yi City? Pretending he was still there? Or was it a one-time thing to trick Wei Wuxian into dropping his guard? I also wonder how often he used his own sword because only after Lan Zhan took Shuanghua from him did he pull out Jiangzai. That could be because he was acting as Xiao Xingchen, but we can’t be sure. However, that isn’t the point. Right now, Wei Wuxian was Xue Yang’s only option because the Yiling Patriarch surely knew things he didn’t. Xue Yang had lived with Xiao Xingchen’s corpse for those seven years, keeping him in pristine condition. I’m pretty sure the only way Xue Yang could have done this was by giving him spiritual energy every day, which would be incredibly draining. I don’t think Xue Yang had an exceptionally strong golden core to begin with either. He is primarily a demonic cultivator, which means he doesn’t use his golden core often. It must have taken most of his strength to keep Xiao Xingchen’s body in such good condition. But anything for daozhang, right? Xue Yang needed Xiao Xingchen’s body to be perfect when he returned. He also put aside his pride and used Song Lan for protection all those years. He kept the one person he continued to hate with a burning passion around him for so long.

When Wei Wuxian tells Xue Yang he can’t bring Xiao Xingchen back to life because his soul is too broken, Xue Yang refuses to believe it. It’s been seven years already; he can’t give up now. Deep down, I believe Xue Yang knows Xiao Xingchen wouldn’t want anything to do with him even if he did come back, but he can’t figure out why. Because nothing was his fault, of course.

Something Wei Wuxian said really struck me as I went back to rewatch episode 39. Before the fight, Wei Wuxian turns to Xue Yang and says, “you disgust him to the core, yet you still want to pull him back to play this stupid game.” Xue Yang responds with “I want nothing of the kind.” And he’s being honest. He doesn’t want a stupid game — he wants something real. He wants a life where Xiao Xingchen knows his identity and stays with him in spite of it. He just wants one person to accept him as he is, but that will never, nor could ever, happen —not with all the crimes he has committed.

When Lan Wangji cut off his arm, leaving Xue Yang bleeding on the ground, I think he knew it was over. There was nothing left for him now. He was never getting Xiao Xingchen back. He never had him in the first place, not in any way that counted. So he laughs, blood spilling from his lips, to cover up the tears he wishes he could cry.

He’s ready when Song Lan stabs him, dying with a smile on his face as he gazes at the last piece of candy Xiao Xingchen had ever given him. It’s blackened and inedible, yet Xue Yang held on to it for so long; it was a reminder of his daozhang and of why he was fighting so hard. Like his character song said, he was “too determined to let go.”

It’s kind of sad that even in death, he was never respected by anyone other than Xiao Xingchen, and all of that was built on a lie. He didn’t even get a proper burial, although I suppose he kind of deserved it. Xue Yang is the character I pity the most in this series. He isn’t a good person, nowhere near it, and he deserved the end he got, but I wish things could have been different. What hurts is that it just as easily could have been Wei Wuxian. If Xue Yang had been taken in as a child; if he’d had his own Jiang Fengmian, his own Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, he could have been happier. Maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe he would have met Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan and started a sect with them. Realistically, he and Xiao Xingchen would never be lovers because Xiao Xingchen was so strongly connected to Song Lan, but I think they could have been friends.

However, one question I still have is did Xue Yang fall in love with Xiao Xingchen because of how he treated him or because of the person Xiao Xingchen really was? If they had met under different circumstances (and if Xue Yang had had a support system when he was young), would Xue Yang have still fallen in love with him? I guess that’s up to the viewer to decide.

Ultimately, Xue Yang is still a sociopath who can’t understand empathy or feel remorse, so I don’t think he regretted any of his crimes. However, I do believe that Xue Yang regretted the consequences of his actions in Yi City. He didn’t want Xiao Xingchen to die, but his actions were what caused his death. It’s more of a dissatisfaction with where things ended up than feeling guilty for his death. Although I don’t think Xue Yang felt remorseful, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t grieving, nor does it mean his feelings for Xiao Xingchen weren’t as genuine as they could have been.

I don’t know where Xue Yang or Xiao Xingchen will end up now, but I hope they’ll both be happy in their next lives. The same goes for A-Qing and Song Lan (when he finally meets his true end). There are so many things that contributed to Xue Yang’s unstable mind, but I think the moral of the story is that it pays to be kind. If just one person had taken pity on him as a child — had shown him that there was good in the world — I wonder what kind of person he would have become.

I already know how cruel fate is

Not looking, not asking, not grieving, not hating

Waiting to relive my life just for a single person

Ups and downs in life

I would leave no regrets

I tried searching in the darkness of night

When I am trapped in the past

I still hope that a flicker of light will appear in my heart

The legend of this lonely city

Who came here before?

And gifted to me my karma

I am waiting for this karma to liberate spirits, liberate souls, and liberate me

Even though I am already too determined to let go

If I get rid of these inner demons

Would you forgive me?

Gaining freedom from destiny, starting all over again

[dirtykpopsnaps]

The Resident Bad Boy — Mark Lee smut

Warnings: This fic contains 18+ material. Anyone under 18 seen interacting with this fic will be blocked!!

Contains: bad boy!Mark. Banter between Mark and Y/N. Hate fucking. Unprotected sex. That’s basically it.

Requested:

Words: 3, 478 (wow...I’m getting these requests out faster than I thought. But, I’ve had this request on my mind since it came in...oops😬😬)

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I sigh softly, nibbling lightly on the toast in front of me. Out the window of the kitchen, I’m just able to people slowly waking up in their homes and starting their days. Calmly, my eyes flit over to the digital clock set into the stove. The clock displays back the time 7:00 AM and I climb off the seat. I grab my plate and place it in the sink, grabbing the toast off the top. I shove the toast into my mouth and grab my bookbag off the floor, throwing it over my shoulder. “I’m heading out, mom! Have a nice day!” I call out before walking to the door and heading out into the street.

Calmly, I walk down the street towards the bus stop. Each house on the street looks similar, but different at the same time. At the end of the street, a large stop sign signals the place for the bus stop. A few students are already gathered around the bus stop, some just waiting for the bus and others already studying. I join the group of students and wait patiently. Thankfully, we don’t have to wait long before the bus shows up. Quickly, students step onto the bus and take their seats. I find a seat at the very front of the bus, setting my backpack next to me.

As the time passes, the bus makes a few other stops. Students climb onto the bus and find their seats, talking excitedly to their friends. Up until the last stop, everything is fine. No one bothers me and I sit alone, looking out the window at everything passing. At the last stop, as I do every day, I duck my head and try to avoid all attention. Sometimes this works, other times it doesn’t. Today is one of the days where it doesn’t work. A few people climb onto the bus, finding their seats and talking happily. Then, a person appears at in the isle next to me. “Is this seat taken?” They ask, their voice filled with mock curiosity. I swallow thickly and shake my head, picking up the backpack and pulling it onto my lap. Chuckling to himself, the person takes the seat next to me.

As soon as he sits down, I look out the window and refuse to look at him. The bus slowly starts moving again and makes its way towards our high school. After a few minutes, the boy next to me speaks up again. “Aww, does someone not want to look at me? Did I upset you?” He asks, using a mocking baby voice and trying to get his face into my line of sight. I huff in annoyance, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Leave me alone, Lee. I don’t need your shit this early in the morning,” I growl. Finally, I turn my head to look at him and scowl at him. Just next to me, a thin but muscular young man is smirking at me. His eyes are large and dark, chocolaty brown. His hair is fluffy and dark brown, as well. Just looking at this boy, some might say he looks angelic. But, this boy’s angelic looks have never fooled me. Since the day I met him, I’ve known just the kind of person he truly is.

This man right next to me is Mark Lee. He’s a year above me, a senior at my high school. This young man, as angelic as he may look, has made my life a living hell since the day I met him. My family moved here just a couple years ago due to a promotion my father got. It moved him to another department in Korea and my mother and I moved with him. The day that I started at Seoul Performing Arts High School, I met Mark. He strutted right up to me and started flirting. Most girls would have melted into a puddle. He was the most popular boy in school. He was a bad boy and add to that that he was debuting as a kpop idol, and every girl wanted to be with him. Every girl, that is, except me. I didn’t know who the hell Mark Lee was, but he was too confident and conceited for me to ever fall for him. I wanted nothing to do with him and, ever since that day, he’s made it his goal in life to bother me and bully me.

At my statement, Mark raises his eyebrows. “Oh, you don’t need my shit, huh? Well, you’ll just have to deal, little miss perfect,” he laughs cruelly. I roll my eyes, huffing and looking out the window again. Mark laughs again. “Oh, don’t act like that. You know you like me,” he laughs, wrapping his arm around the seat of the bus and onto my shoulder. I glare at him, shoving his arm off my shoulder.

“You. Wish,” I glare, turning away from him again. Mark rolls his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

“Fine. Just meet me at our hall during break,” he says plainly. Instantly, my throat feels dry and I look at him, taking deep breaths.

“Who says I want to meet with you?” I ask, lowering my voice. He shrugs his shoulders lightly.

“Well, you’ve never missed one of our meetings before,” he reminds me. I huff again, slumping down in the seat. Mark laughs at my actions, patting my head like one would a petulant child.

Finally, the bus makes its way up to the high school. Kids begin climbing off the bus and I separate myself from Mark Lee as soon as I can. He doesn’t try to stop me and I can see him meeting up with his friends, talking calmly. However, what they’re talking about doesn’t seem to catch his attention. He keeps throwing glances at me and, when he catches me staring back, he blows me a condescending kiss. I roll my eyes, making my way into the school and heading towards my classroom. When I get into the classroom, I find my seat and immediately take a book out of my bookbag. I open the book on the desk and start flipping through it, looking over random bits of information.

For the most part, my morning is fairly normal. My day starts with my vocal practice lessons. The teacher is critical, but only because they want us to do as well as we can. I stay to myself, working with the techniques that he teaches us. About halfway through the class, I start to feel things being tossed at the back of my head. I frown lightly, refusing to turn around and acknowledge it. I know exactly who’s throwing the trash at me and I’m not encouraging him. However, after about another 10 minutes of having trash tossed at me, I whip around. Mark is sitting at the back of the class, laughing with his best friend and looks away when I whip around. “Stop it!” I hiss at him, turning back around and ignoring him for the rest of the class.

At the end of class, the school bell rings loudly. Everyone begins packing up their bags and heading out of the class, walking towards no specific place. We have a 50 minute break now and the students get to spend it however they see fit. Quickly, I gather my bag and throw it over my shoulder, walking out of the room. Looking around to make sure that no one is watching me, I walk in the opposite direction of most students and head further into the school. I walk along the long hallways, making my way towards an empty wing of the school. The classrooms here aren’t used until later on in the day, so this has become our normal meeting spot. As calmly as possible, I head down the hall and wait for him to appear.

Not long after, I hear heavy footsteps as someone makes their way down the empty hall. The person walks along and then turns down the same hall as me. When he sees me standing there, he chuckles lightly. “See? I knew you would show up,” he smiles knowingly. I glare at him, crossing my arms again.

“I hate you,” I sigh, shaking my head at him.

“Well, obviously, you don’t. I mean, it was your choice to show up. You didn’t *have* to come here,” he points out. I take a deep breath, pressing my lips together tightly.

“Whatever,” I mumble, walking down the hall to one of the empty classrooms. Mark follows after me, making no effort to be any quieter. He walks into the room after me, closing the door quietly behind him.

As soon as he enters the room, I press him against the door and smash my lips against his. Mark grunts in surprise, but falls into the kiss soon afterward. When we pull apart, he shoots an infuriating smile down at me. “What a nice greeting. Finally you’re being nice to me,” he chuckles. I narrow my eyes at him, tugging hard at his hair in response. Mark grunts again, screwing his face up in pain. He swats at my hands, pulling them out of his hair. I flash him a tight-lipped smile and he rolls his eyes. “You know you can drop your act here. No one is around to see that you actually *care* about Mark Lee,” he says.

“I *don’t* care about you. You’re just infuriatingly persistent and persuasive. Not to mention, you’re good with your dick,” I tell him. He laughs lightly and I slap my hand over his mouth to muffle the sound.

See, when Mark had first suggested we fuck, almost a year ago now, I had laughed in his face. I hated him. He was like an annoying gnat that just wouldn’t leave you alone. He would pull at my hair. He would lob balls of paper at the back of my head. He would outright flirt with me in front of everyone and anyone. And I can’t tell you how many girls hate me because of that. But, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he had suggested. So, against my better judgment, I showed up. He broke into this huge, shit-eating grin as soon as he saw me. Then, he pulled me into an empty classroom in this very hall and fucked me better than anyone ever could. I’d never been with anyone before that, but I just...knew. He was a major asshole, but he was *so* good with his dick. And, when I told him I was a virgin, he actually showed me kindness and caring for the first time since I had met him. Ever since then, at least once a week, we would meet up and fuck.

When Mark’s laughter has died down, I take my hand away from his mouth. For a few seconds, we just stare at each other, then I lean up and pull him into another deep kiss. This time, he’s not caught off guard and slips his hands down to my hips, holding them tightly. “Someone’s eager,”he chuckles, working on the buttons of his blazer, “What’s the hurry? Don’t you wanna savor the moment?” I glare up at him.

“No, I don’t, Mark. You know we don’t have that much time,” I remind him.

“Jeez! If you wanted my dick that much, all you had to say was ‘please’,” he laughs.

“Mark Lee, if you don’t shut your pretty mouth right now and I fuck me, I *will* leave you right here,” I warn, pulling off my blazer and throwing it over a chair. Mark does the same, working on his tie and shirt.

For a few moments, neither Mark nor I talk to each other. We busy ourselves with throwing off the pieces of our elaborate uniforms and place them around the room. I start working on the buttons of my skirt to drop it, but Mark stops me. “Hey, you know I like that cute little skirt. Keep it on,” he winks. I roll my eyes and stop trying to take it off. Now just in his boxers, Mark drops to his knees and looks up at me. Slowly he trails his hands up my legs until he reaches my panties. He snaps the band against skin, smirking to himself. “These, however...these need to come off,” he chuckles darkly. Immediately after, he slips them down my legs. When they reach my feet, I kick them off and he sets them on top of my blouse and the little bow. Calmly, I slip off my shoes and socks, leaving me in only my bra and uniform skirt.

Standing to his full height again, Mark steps back and hums happily. “Always so gorgeous,” he chuckles. Without hesitation, he drops his last article of clothing and, suddenly, he’s completely naked in front of me. The morning sun lights up his tanned skin beautifully, but my eyes immediately fall to his cock. It’s already standing at attention and ready for us to play. Just staring at it, my mouth waters slightly. It’s just a little longer than average, but it’s very thick and veiny. It always feels so amazing inside of me. After a few seconds of staring, my eyes flit up to his again and he still has that infuriating smirk.

As soon as my eyes meet his, he strides up to me and holds me close. His hand is pressed against the small of my back, keeping us chest to chest. He captures my lips in a heated kiss, swiping his tongue at the seam of my lips. I open them immediately and his tongue makes it’s way into my mouth, fighting for dominance with mine. Although I fight back, I know that he’ll be the one in charge. He’s always the one in charge. Finally, I give in and allow him to take dominance. I feel him smirk against my lips and I have half a mind to slap him, but I decide against it. If I actually were to slap him, he would probably leave me high and dry. Mark moves his lips away from my mouth and starts pressing light kisses against my jaw and neck. “No...no marks, Mark. I can’t cover them right now,” I moan, leaning my head back to give him more access.

“You’re no fun,” he frowns, nipping at my neck.

“Mark,” I say, gritting my teeth. He sighs lightly and continues descending down to my chest.

Smoothly, he begins pressing kisses to the tops of my breasts. He moves the cup of my bra aside and takes my nipple into my mouth, sucking hard. I gasp loudly, threading my fingers into his hair and tugging. He hums against my breast, nipping lightly at the pebble in his mouth. “You’re always so responsive,” he says, moving to the other breast. I hum lightly, tugging at his hair again.

“Mark, don’t waste time,” I moan, trying to steady my voice.

“You’re still no fun,” he groans, leaning back and adjusting the cups over my breasts again. He steps away and takes in my figure, deciding where he wants me. “I wanna see you bent over that desk,” he stares, gesturing his head towards one of the desks nearby.

As soon as the order escapes his lips, I walk over the desk and press my chest against the top, gripping the far edge. I look over my shoulder and bite my lip. “You coming, Lee?” I ask, catching him staring at my ass as the skirt slowly moves up.

“Be patient,” he chides jokingly, striding over and gripping my ass cheek in his hand. He kneads it for a few seconds before pressing his hard cock against my crack. “Are you ready for this?” He asks.

“Just waiting for you stop being a tease, Lee,” I sigh, tapping my fingers against the desk impatiently. I can almost hear him roll his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, woman. Do you ever just take in the moment?” He groans in annoyance.

“Not when we only have 50 minutes to get ourselves off,” I snap.

“You should come to my dorm sometime. I’d take my time with you there,” he hums.

“In your dreams, Lee,” I growl.

“Oh, you bet. Every single night, darling,” he chuckles. I glare at him over my shoulder.

“Mark Lee, fuck me now or I *will* leave,” I growl. He rolls his eyes again, fisting his cock.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, shut up,” he mumbles in frustration.

Just as I’m about to respond, Mark steps up behind me and rubs his cock through my folds. I moan loudly, tightening my grip on the edge of the table. Mark laughs at my response. “Isn’t it you who’s always chiding me about being too loud?” He laughs.

“Mark,” I growl in annoyance, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself. However, before I can say anything else, Mark moves his cock to my hole and presses in. My breath catches in my throat at the feeling and I gasp, clutching the edge of the desk. Mark groans, slowly working himself into me.

“Jesus. No matter how much I fuck you, you’re always so *tight*,” he groans, slowly pulling his cock in and out. Each time he presses back in, he goes in a little further. After several minutes, he’s finally worked himself all the way in.

For a few seconds, he just sits there and allow me to adjust to his size. I can hear him taking deep breaths through gritted teeth, trying not to move before I say he can. When I’m fully adjusted, I nod my head quickly. “Fuck me, Mark,” I moan, pressing my ass back. He groans again, moving his hands to my hips and pulling out. He slams his cock back into me, finding that spot that only he can. I moan loudly, throwing my head back at the pleasure.

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me,” he moans, quicken his pace.

“Only...Only for you, Mark,” I whine, panting slightly.

“Who’s cock makes you feel this good?”

“Your’s, Mark! Your cock makes me feel so good!” He growls, slamming into me yet again. He presses his front against my back, stopping for a moment.

“That’s right, babygirl, only me,” he growls, nipping at the skin of my neck. I groan at the feeling but, before I can chide him for leaving marks, he’s thrusting again.

Quickly, his thrusts reach a point where the desk is scrapping against the floor. That familiar feeling in my stomach is rising and I whine softly. “Mark...Mark, I’m gonna come,” I moan, leaning back against him.

“Come for me, baby. I’m almost there,” he groans. At his words, I allow myself to fall over the edge. I lift up one of my hands, biting it as I fall over the edge. My cunt flutters around Mark, clenching and unclenching involuntarily. He groans loudly, spilling inside of me. I whine, feeling his cum already dripping down my legs.

“Shit...I didn’t mean to do that,” he pants worriedly.

“It’s okay, Mark. I’m on the pill,” I pant back, resting my face against the desk. He laughs lightly, taking in deep breaths.

“Fuck, that’s great,” he says.

For a few seconds, we both just allow ourselves to come down from our highs. When we’ve calmed down enough, we start pulling our uniforms back on. We pull on all of the different parts, checking each other and making sure that we look presentable. I tug my blazer back on when I suddenly notice the unexpected coolness against my cunt. I gasp loudly, searching around the room frantically. “What, what?!” Mark asks in confusion.

“My panties! Where are they?! They were just on top of my blouse!” I whisper-shout, turning around in circles. Mark laughs lightly and I turn to him, my jaw hanging open.

“Why are you laughing at me?!” I ask in shock. Smirking, he tugs something out of his pocket and I’m just able to recognize the color and lace of my panties. “Hey, give those back!” I say, snatching for them.

Quickly, Mark shoves then back in his pocket and smirks. “You’ll get them back when you come to my dorm,” he says plainly, then he turns on his heel and walks off. I stare after him, my jaw hanging open. He did *not* just do that. Finally getting a hold of myself again, I hurry down the hall after him. I hit his arm, begging him to give them back, but he just keeps laughing at me. When he get back into the occupied part of the school, I’m forced to drop it. However, I keep pleading with him for the rest of the day. Let’s just say...I don’t get my panties back...that day, anyway.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Can you please write a fic where James is a rich,star footballer and Sirius comes in to work as his super hott personal bodyguard??? And then James starts crushing on him hard but Sirius is hesitant because he could lose his job over this!!!! Please please please write this... I am a biiiig fan of your work... God Bless❤️

"What? I don't need a bodyguard," James said. The very idea was preposterous. 

Coach glared at him, but the rest of the team was slightly more reserved in staring him down. The whole administrative team was there, from the head coach to the team's PR representative. "There have been threats." 

"So? I also got threatened when I was seventeen and nothing ever came of it." 

The team manager jumped in then. "This isn't a schoolyard threat made because you stole someone's girlfriend. Or- whatever," he said, fumbling a little-- as he always did-- when he said something thoughtless and remembered that James was gay afterwards. That being said, James definitely had stolen some girlfriends at school because it was the best approximation he could get for what attraction to women was. "These are extremely conservative people who want you dead and aren't shy about showing they're serious," the team manager continued. "Even if they don't manage to kill you, they could permanently injure you, effectively ending your career. Is that what you want?" 

James huffed, knowing that he was being a little petulant and not caring. "No," he admitted. If he'd been just talking to his mates, he never would've admitted it, but they'd all gotten together to sit him down and make sure he listened to them; they wouldn't have bothered if they weren't seriously concerned. 

"Then get a goddamn bodyguard," Coach said. "It won't be forever-- just until these people realise they have better things to do with their time than harass a popular footballer." 

"Fine." If James had known it would be this much trouble to come out, he wouldn't have done it. He'd just been thinking that he might like to date someone for real. He'd also thought about himself when he was younger and how he could've figured out that he fancied men before he was twenty sodding three if one of his favourite footie players had been gay (and out. He wasn't discounting the idea entirely just because they hadn't said anything.). "I don't know where to find one though." 

"We've got a list of possibilities," someone else said, handing James a sheet of paper-- for the life of him, James couldn't remember what she did, but in his defense, he'd only met her once as an introduction and then seen her in passing at the past six years of holiday parties. On the paper was a list of agencies, their websites, and phone numbers to contact them. There wasn't any mention of price, but it's not like James was pressed for cash or anything. Hell, he'd already reached his lifetime savings amount and didn't really know what to do with the salary he was still getting. Might as well use some of it to stay safe and pacify his bosses. 

*

James had weighed all his options and looked at all of the information he'd been given, and he still couldn't decide. He'd handed the list to Remus, and he'd picked one at random; James took his choice as a good decision and called the company up. They made everything so easy for him that he was beginning to think Remus had special choosing powers. From now on, James was going to run his decisions by Remus before doing anything. 

And then he actually met his bodyguard. He couldn't decide if this was better than before, or worse. Either way, he didn't think asking Remus for advice would really be the way that he wanted for his life to go. 

He was told that his bodyguard's name was Sirius, and they had a first meeting at the company to sort out a few details. If James was a smart person, he would've taken one look at Sirius and said, "Thanks but no thanks, can I get someone else?" But James wasn't smart. He was a dumbarse. A dumbarse that let his heart make decisions for him. Sirius was, in a word, gorgeous. He had a face that looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine, and a smile that stopped James's breath in its tracks. He was sure that Sirius was good at his job, but James rather doubted his decision to accept him as a bodyguard. He wasn't going to be able to focus for shite. 

James explained the situation to Sirius-- the boring stuff, about why he needed a bodyguard-- and he didn't blink at him being bent. Either he already knew that because he followed football, he didn't care, or he cared but was a very good actor. James imagined that there was a certain amount of acting as a bodyguard, but he'd also like to think that Sirius wouldn't have accepted if it bothered him. 

James had been afraid that Sirius was going to walk slightly to the side and behind him and stay resolutely silent the whole time, but he carried a conversation alright as they walked to James's car. "I'm sure you get this all the time and you're annoyed with it, but why's your name Sirius?" 

The look on Sirius's face showed that he was very much used to the question, even though he didn't look annoyed by it. "Named after the star in Canis Major. Being named after stars is sort of a family thing." 

"Really?" James asked. He was instantly charmed. Sirius hadn't even put much effort into it, but James was head over heels after exchanging two words with him. 

"Mmhmm. My brother's Regulus, my father and great-grandfather were both Orion, and I've got a cousin named Bellatrix." 

"Wow. Your family must've been made fun of a lot when they were kids." 

Sirius snorted, and James looked at him curiously. 

"What?" 

"I wouldn't call any of us... well-behaved children. Got in a lot of fights." 

"Ah, and it led to you being a bodyguard?" 

Sirius shrugged with an easygoing smirk. "Might as well do something you're good at, right?" 

*

"It's total rubbish that they're putting McLaggen in before you," Sirius said one day after practice. 

"Right?" Then he paused. Sirius hadn't been around long enough to be so certain of that. Which meant, "I knew you were a fan. Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I didn't want to freak you out. You're dealing with enough right now that I didn't want for you to worry about your bodyguard fawning over you." 

"Aww, you fawn over me?" James asked, unable to help a pleased smile. 

"It's called knowing who the best is," Sirius said with a wink. 

*

"You don't get along with your brother?" James asked. Personally, he didn't have any siblings, but from what he understood, those relationships were often complicated. Lily, for example, cared about her sister even though-- as far as James could tell-- she was kind of an irredeemable twat that didn't seem to like Lily at all. 

Sirius shrugged. "He wants to like our parents, but now that he disagrees with them on everything, it's not easy. I keep telling him that his life would be easier if he stopped talking to them, but he feels all guilty about it." He rolled his eyes expressively. "I think he thinks that he owes them for them not being worse." 

"You both should get new parents," James said. "I volunteer my own." 

"I think you stop needing new parents when you're an adult." 

"Words that can only be spoken by someone with shite parents. Maybe you don't need parents anymore, but if Regulus is still trying to connect with them, it means he needs someone. My parents are great. Mum will probably see him smile once and then demand he come to Saturday night dinners for the next ten years." 

Sirius snickered. 

"Oh, I'm not joking," James insisted. "Lily and I haven't been together since we were eighteen, and she still comes over for dinner when she can make it." 

"Only you would be on such great terms with your ex that your parents would do that." 

"Bold of you to assume my parents wouldn't have done it whether we were on good terms or not. They blood adore her, and that didn't stop because we weren't dating anymore. I swear, they love every single friend I let them meet. If I introduced them to your brother? He wouldn't make it out of that house without them knowing his favourite dessert. He wouldn't stand a chance." 

"Maybe that's what he needs," Sirius said, sounding amused. "We'll have to set that up when this all blows over." 

*

James's first problem with Sirius had been that he was so gorgeous James couldn't think for shite. His second problem with Sirius was that he was an attractive person all around, not just in his face. Honestly, who had decided that someone should get to be that pretty and also be that funny? It wasn't fair to the rest of humanity. 

He'd never been shy, so he told Sirius that he fancied him shortly after figuring it out. Thinking a bloke was fit as hell was one thing. Actually fancying him was quite another. People were fit all the time, and James had never lost sleep over it. He knew he'd regret it if he sat around and pined after Sirius uselessly though. 

He told Sirius, and Sirius looked at him for a second, then blinked. "Erm. James, I can't- I could get fired for dating a client." 

"Right." That made sense. "I hadn't thought of that." He really hadn't thought about it, but who'd want to hire a bodyguard that had a history of hooking up with who they were protecting? Hell, the company could get looked into for solicitation if it happened often enough. If James had thought of that, he would've kept his mouth shut until the end of Sirius's employment with him. "Just... y'know, if you were interested, I'm probably not going to need a bodyguard for much longer." He'd checked back in with the admin team, and they'd said that by next year, he should be good. New information was popping up on people that James's despisers hated more, so they were starting to leave him alone. At least, that's what he'd gotten from the conversation even if it wasn't entirely accurate. 

"I know," Sirius said with half a smile. "I was there for that conversation, remember?" 

"I'd forgotten," James admitted, a little ashamed. He wasn't the best at paying attention to several things at once when he really cared about one of them more than the others. In that case, he ended up thinking about the one thing and trying desperately to pay attention to the rest. That day, he was pretty sure he'd been so focused on getting his life back to normal that he'd ignored Sirius, and even the talk about their upcoming game. 

*

"Bloody hell," Sirius said, one arm around James as he half-carried, half-guided him down the street so they could catch a cab. "I signed up to be your bodyguard, not your designated driver." Despite his complaining, he didn't sound upset, more amused. 

"You could be both," James said slowly, having to put more effort into his words than usual since he was sloshed. He preferred speaking Hindi when he was pissed; it was just easier than English. He didn't think Sirius knew Hindi though, and the only thing he wanted right now was to enjoy Sirius's company. 

Sirius laughed. "Maybe so, but I preferred just doing one." 

"Heeeey, you could do the partner thing soon." 

"I don't remember mentioning a partner thing." 

James licked his lips as he tried to remember what the phrase he'd first used was. "Designated driver. Only, instead of just dragging me to a car, we'd be getting sloshed together." 

"That does sound more fun." 

James was always talkative, but now that he was sloshed, he wasn't stopping. He really liked Sirius. He liked him for lots of reasons, but right now he liked that Sirius was encouraging him. He wasn't getting mad at James for continuing to talk all through the cab ride, or as he helped him up the stairs to his flat. "You're so wonderful," James mumbled. 

"Thanks," Sirius said with a laugh. He fished around James's pockets for his keys. James turned and rested his head on Sirius's shoulder, which did make it easier, but somehow he thought that wasn't what James had had in mind. 

"You're so pretty," he said, turning his face into Sirius's neck. 

"Thanks," he said again. "It's nice to be appreciated." 

"In all my life, I've never met someone that made me feel like you do," James said. 

"I don't know what you just said, but I'm going to assume it was complimentary." 

James nodded. He kissed Sirius's neck because it was there. "The prettiest damn thing I've ever seen." 

Sirius swallowed thickly. He didn't need to understand the language to know that whatever James said was something he would appreciate. The kiss sent tingles down his spine, and James's mouth was still resting close enough to him that Sirius could feel his breath hot against his skin. "As much as we would enjoy that, I thought we agreed to wait." 

"You're right. You're just so pretty," he whined. "It's really not fair. You should try to be less pretty; it would make my life easier." 

"You can live with it," Sirius said. He finally found the keys and put it in the door for him. He unlocked it and pushed the door open. James looked pretty comfy where he was, and it made shuffling him inside his flat a bit harder than getting him here had been. "C'mon mate, you've got to get in bed." 

"But you're not there," James said, sounding awfully petulant about it. 

Sirius chuckled. "No, but you'll get to sleep just fine without it." 

"That's what you think." 

"Love, you're drunk enough that you'll definitely pass out before the night's through." 

"Aww, you called me 'love'. No one's ever done that before." 

"Really?" 

James nodded again, but since he wasn't leaning on Sirius as heavily this time, he swayed a little. Sirius was still right next to him though, so he was able to keep him from falling over. "My last boyfriend called me 'babe' but I sort of hated it." 

"You do seem like you'd prefer the sweeter pet names. Sweetheart, things like that." 

"Feel free to call me sweetheart as much as you want." 

"I think I will. After I stop working on protecting you, that is. We've still got to wait, remember?" 

"What I remember is issuing an invitation that never got an answer." 

"I assumed you knew my answer. Or was I not obvious enough about my interest?" Sirius asked quietly. 

"I would say that subtlety passes me by," James said. "But I got it now, thanks. You sure I can't convince you to stay?" 

"Not while I'm working for you, and definitely not while you're sloshed." Sirius brought him to his room and took off his shoes when he collapsed back on the bed. "If you want to get undressed more, you're going to have to do it yourself, sweetheart," he said, then kissed James's forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

*

The day for James to no longer need a bodyguard felt like it took forever, but he could grudgingly admit that it had been a good idea. None of it had been serious, but he was told-- by Sirius-- that that's because having a bodyguard was often a large deterrent. In his time as James's bodyguard, Sirius successfully intimidated several people and got physical with one. James would be lying if he said that it hadn't been hot to watch, but he also wasn't going to say that out loud-- it made him feel like he was the heroine in a teen adventure book. 

"So, do I have to take you on a date before I get to kiss you?" James asked. 

"I wouldn't want you to think I'm easy," Sirius replied with a wink. 

"You like curry? I know a good place." 

Sirius made a face. "I only like it from one restaurant, and it's all the way up in Wales." 

"Wait," James said slowly, a smile creeping across his face, "are you talking about Andi's?" 

"Yes, you know it?" 

"Bloody love it. I can't make the trip as much as I want, but if you're willing, we can definitely go up there." 

"I can think of worse things than spending time with you on the way to the best curry in the UK," Sirius said. 

*

James rented a car because it was easier than taking a cab that far, and it was definitely more private than a train-- which would only be able to take them part of the way anyhow. He wanted for them to be alone anyways, so that they could catch up on all the flirting they'd missed. Not to say that there had been a drought of flirting while Sirius was his bodyguard, but after they agreed to date when his contract was up, they'd tried to tone it down. 

They didn't have to worry about that anymore. 

The drive was okay, dinner was great, and Sirius snogged him for a bit after they got back in the car but before they drove back to London. 

"How the hell do you feel even better than you look?" James whispered, stealing another kiss. 

Sirius chuckled. "I was about to ask you the same question, love." 

[hotchley]

“some of us grow up to catch them”

morehotchcontent day seven: sick fic (”i’m fine.” “you have a fever of 102, that’’s not not fine.”/tummy rub)

tagged: @ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety  @unionjackpillow

aaron hadn’t been to a crime scene before. not one like this. where the pain and the horror and the destruction was obvious. where the depravity of human nature could be seen, clear as day. he had seen the photos, and he’d seen the aftermath, once the forensic team had taken the most despicable parts away for analysis.

“hotch!” he shouted.

but it was too late.  he’d already come over.

he was frozen in place, unable to take his eyes off the body, but wanting nothing more than to get as far from as it as was humanly possible. his hands were trembling- his entire body was shaking- and he was shaking his head, the word no wordlessly leaving his mouth as tears streamed down his face. dave wanted to run over and tell him everything was okay, but hotch had never gotten this emotional on a case. he had no idea what to do.

and then he keeled over, throwing up on the grass, groaning as he pressed a hand to his stomach.

we’re ending on hotch’s most iconic quote, and the fic that i was more excited for, even though it’s a few days late!

trigger warnings: canon-typical violence, depictions of a deceased child at the hands of an unsub, implied/referenced mutilation, implied/referenced child abuse

read on ao3!

David Rossi knew from the moment he first saw Aaron Hotchner in Seattle, slightly distressed by the dead body but raring to go and catch a killer that he was destined for something more. Something more than just a field agent, or head of department, or god forbid white collar crimes. He knew from the beginning that the kid was going to do something incredible.

The BAU was something incredible. The idea that they would be able to catch these killers, not by waiting for them to slip up and make it obvious who they were, but by looking at their crime scenes and getting in their head so they could be stopped before it even got to the screwing up stage, was something that not a lot of people believed, or had faith in.

But David Rossi did. As did Jason Gideon and Max Ryan. And with a bit of convincing, so would Aaron Hotchner.

The killer had left Seattle. Rossi and the team had to go back. But instead of going back to the precinct with Jason and Max so he could do his part in clearing up, Dave hung back and said he would go with Hotchner. His two colleagues gave him identical looks of disapproval as though they already knew what he was about to do- and who was he kidding, of course they did, they were all profilers. Hotchner’s fist clenched at the use of his last name.

Dave pretended he didn’t notice. At least not until they got in the car. But he needed to know that if this worked out, if the kid could convince his girlfriend to move across the country to Quantico, what cases would get to him the most.

“So, you don’t like being called Hotchner,” he said.

Aaron’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. “It’s not my favourite thing no. Why?”

Defensiveness.

“Just making conversation. He’s dead now, isn’t he?”

Aaron almost missed the turning. “Agent Rossi, with all due respect, please don’t profile me.”

“I’m not. It’s written very clearly in your face that you don’t like being called Hotchner. Given the fact that it’s a southern surname and you would have grown up there in the 70s, it’s more using some common sense. But I suppose there was a little bit of profiling involved.”

He sighed. “What do you want? You must have a reason to voluntarily drive back with me instead of your much more exciting colleagues.”

“They’re not that exciting, but I’m sure they’ll love to know you said that. But well done for realising that I do indeed want something. As the BAU gets taken more seriously, we’re likely to be taking on more cases. And in order to do that, we need more profilers. And I watched you out there. You have the instinct. With a bit of training and a lot of experience you may turn out as good as Gideon.”

“So you admit he’s better than you?” Aaron said, with a small smirk.

“I never said that. And you seem to be avoiding answering my question.”

“Maybe that’s because you didn’t ask one.”

“Fine. If you can get that pretty girlfriend of yours to agree, how would you like to join the BAU?”

“Haley’s my wife, actually. I don’t wear the wedding ring because it puts more of a target on my back and I want to come home safe to her. You’re putting an awful amount of trust into a rookie you met a few weeks ago.”

So somehow this kid managed to be cynical and fun at the same time. If he accepted the offer- which of course he would, who wouldn’t- everyone would be kept on their toes. It would make a change though. Aaron had witnessed and experienced terrible things, there was no doubt about that, but he still wasn’t as damaged or tarnished by life as the rest of them were.

“I just have a feeling. So, what do you say?”

“I’ll talk to Haley about it.”

They had arrived back at the precinct now. Dave got out, leaving Aaron to think things over as he drove back to the field office, probably to complete his own paperwork.

“Good man. And Aaron?”

Aaron turned to face him, eyes wide.

“Hotch is a good nickname.”

He grinned. “It is.”

Six months later, Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, who immediately after being introduced would say: please call me Hotch because southern manners never could be truly unlearnt, joined the BAU. Two weeks after that happened, the team met his wife- not girlfriend- Haley for the first time. They’d walked away with the same opinions.

Well. Max Ryan didn’t really have an opinion on her either way. He didn’t think she was amazing as Aaron did, but then, nobody did. It was why the two of them were married.

Jason and Dave just didn’t like her. Neither could quite place what it was about her, but there was something that just didn’t sit right with them. However, Aaron properly loosened up when he was with her, and he was a grown adult that could make his own decisions and so they had to accept his choice of spouse. Even if they didn’t completely approve.

And Aaron knew they didn’t. They thought they were being subtle, but apparently they weren’t. And it must have been bad because he was the one that had first implemented the no inter-team profiling rule. If they wanted to be annoying, they would have profiled that. But that was the only time Dave had ever seen the kid angry at someone other than the police or an unsub.

So after meeting Haley for the first time, there was a small wedge between the various team members. They did their best to remain civil, but Dave could tell Hotch was hurt by his disapproval. He just didn’t know how to tell the man he was sorry and was probably just a bitter man going through a second divorce- he was realistically only one of those things but Aaron didn’t need to know that- who was being cynical in a way that wouldn’t embarrass him. Usually when he needed to apologise, it involved flowers and chocolate.

He doubted Aaron would appreciate that. If anything, he would throw them both away because of how embarrassed the whole thing would make him. So Dave needed to be smarter than that. He needed to apologise in a simpler way. One that would be more genuine.

He wanted to just say the words. But Aaron was avoiding them all.

Until he had his real case. For the month that he’d been there, nothing urgent had needed their attention. It had all been casefiles and paperwork. But then they got the phone call. They were being summoned to New York. It was a decent drive.

“Hotch, you’re with me,” Dave said.

Hotch looked up. Something about him was different, but what, he had no idea. His eyes were slightly glazed and he didn’t seem fully there, as when he heard that he was going to have to spend roughly five hours in close proximity to the one person he’d spent three weeks not interacting with- which for two people in the same team who had a small area to work with, was quite something- he just nodded and grabbed his phone before quickly leaving, presumably to call Haley.

He didn’t say a word as he was driving. Rossi kept a careful eye on him, wanting to know why he was still wearing his stupid jacket when he looked about ready to pass out. His face was flushed, his eyes slightly unfocused and a large part of him just wanted to make him pull over and explain himself. The larger part of him knew that would just worsen the situation.

“There’s a gas station right there. We can switch over,” he said.

“I’m good,” Aaron replied. He looked pale now.

“Agent Hotchner, that was a command,” Rossi said.

Hotch pulled into the gas station without another word but refused to look at Rossi when he got into the driver’s seat, having dashed inside to get some water, light snacks and a thermometer. Instead he stared out the window, looking every bit the angst-ridden teen Rossi knew he had been, and probably still was.

“Open your mouth,” Rossi said, once the doors to the car were locked and they were driving again.

That made Hotch turn around. He looked even worse than before, his glare looking more desperate than anything else.

“Excuse me?” Hotch said.

Rossi grinned at him, before holding up the thermometer, keeping one eye on the road so he didn’t kill them both. “Either you do it yourself, or I will. Your decision.”

Hotch cleared his throat and opened his mouth, probably to make another smart comment, or express his utter disgust at being treated like a petulant child. Rossi used that moment to shove the thermometer and press on, Hotch unable to do much more than make a muffled sound of protest. He folded his arms over his chest, but with the thermometer preventing his speech, it did little to make him seem scary.

Rossi took the time to actually observe him.

“You look like shit.”

“I’m fine.”

The thermometer beeped. Rossi, one hand still on the wheel, took it from Aaron’s mouth before he could react.

“You have a fever of 102. That’s not fine.”

“I’m fine. You know who’s not fine? The families of those three dead boys in New York. They’re not fine. And more people are going to get hurt if you keep worrying about me, so just stop it!” Aaron’s voice was fading. He coughed, more than a few times.

Dave sighed. This kid was their family now, whether they wanted him to be or not. “Aaron. You’re allowed to have limits. Nobody is going to think any less of you.” He knew he was already on thin ice, but he needed Aaron to know. “Nobody is going to punish you either.”

Hotch curled into himself. “Don’t profile me.”

Rossi, despite everything, smiled. Aaron may not have admitted he was unwell, but he hadn’t explicitly denied it again. And he was making small jokes. Perhaps they were getting somewhere. “I’m not. I just wanted you to know that if you need to sit out at any point-”

The moment was ruined.

“Agent Rossi, I will be fine, so please don’t patronise me.”

His hair was a mess. Despite how well put together he always looked, his hair was a mess. It showed just how young he was. That was Dave focused on. He couldn’t focus on the ache in his chest. He didn’t get attached to people. Especially not agents that just reduced his life expectancy.

They drove the rest of the way in complete silence that was only ever interrupted by Aaron coughing or sniffling. By the time they reached New York, it was clear he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. When they got out the car, Hotch stumbled slightly. Rossi wanted to steady him, but Hotch still seemed volatile.

“What happened?” Max asked, gesturing to Hotch when Rossi walked over.

“He’s unwell. Won’t admit it. Same old.” Only it wasn’t, because whenever somebody else was unwilling to admit they were unwell it was because they didn’t want to be stuck at home or prevented from doing something. Aaron’s reasons seemed much ingrained, much more serious.

Gideon sighed. “If he’s that unwell he should really just go straight to the hotel.”

“You can be the one to tell him that,” Rossi said.

“Let him be. He’ll be fine,” Max said, disinterested.

Rossi wasn’t convinced, but then Aaron walked over, looking paler than ever. He seemed more balanced, but he had one hand pressed to his stomach. Dave wanted to do something, but he didn’t know what. And he wasn’t about to risk arguing with him in front of the police officers.

“Let’s go then,” Rossi said, faking some semblance of brightness, refusing to look at Gideon, who probably just looked confused.

“Thank you so much for coming. Officers, these are SSAs Rossi, Ryan, Gideon and- is it Agent Hotchner?”

Hotch nodded, not even bothering to correct them. Rossi gave him another concerned look. Aaron was still turned away from him.

“It never gets easier, no matter how many years you do the job for. And no matter how many years you do this for, the evil nature of people always manages to shock you,” the detective said, sighing.

“It’s fine, Detective. Shall we?” Ryan said.

The detective got his impatience and led the way.

David Rossi had seen terrible things in his life. He had seen more death, destruction and horror than most people could dream of. He had seen the life leave the body of his friends as death came for them. He had watched the hope faded from desperate parents as the knowledge that their child was never coming home finally sunk in. He’d stood by as killers got away with a smirk on their face and a glint in their eyes because of some stupid technicality.

But having to see a crime scene involving an innocent child… that was horrific. And if he could, if he was granted one wish it would be for that to never happen to anyone ever again. He resisted the urge to hit something, to outwardly react. The public could not see them fall apart. They just couldn’t. Instead he crept forward, trying to ignore the horror before him.

Gideon and Ryan seemed saddened. But then, they had never been as impacted by things as the rest of them were. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Hotch was talking to someone. The mother. He clasped her hands, stared into her eyes and said something that made her smile slightly before coming over. He was like a ghost now, one hand putting pressure on his stomach. Rossi couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, which wasn’t good. But there was something else bugging him.

He realised too late.

Aaron hadn’t been to a crime scene before. Not one like this. Where the pain and the horror and the destruction was obvious. Where the depravity of human nature could be seen, clear as day. He had seen the photos, and he’d seen the aftermath, once the forensic team had taken the most despicable parts away for analysis.

“Hotch!” he shouted.

But it was too late.  He’d already come over.

He was frozen in place, unable to take his eyes off the body, but wanting nothing more than to get as far from as it as was humanly possible. His hands were trembling- his entire body was shaking- and he was shaking his head, the word no wordlessly leaving his mouth as tears streamed down his face. Dave wanted to run over and tell him everything was okay, but Hotch had never gotten this emotional on a case. He had no idea what to do.

And then he keeled over, throwing up on the grass, groaning as he pressed a hand to his stomach.

The detective gave him a sympathetic look. “Please don’t let him be too mortified. It happens to everyone.”

Hotch had managed to pull himself to his feet and had vanished off somewhere. The elder profilers exchanged looks. Max Ryan looked disgusted-he should be able to handle a crime scene, after everything he had already seen and done. Jason Gideon looked confused- Hotch had been a prosecutor before this, surely, he knew what to expect.

Dave sighed, then walked away. Max called out for him, but he ignored it. They didn’t see to have any problem with profiling each other and this was probably the most obvious thing he’d done in a while.

He almost didn’t see Aaron at first. But the precinct cars were white, so when he walked past the second time, the small patch of black sticking up made it rather obvious.

“There are better places to rest than here,” he said, by way of greeting.

“Just leave me alone and don’t make jokes right now. I know I’ve disappointed everyone, and you must all think I’m incapable of doing this. I’ll have my resignation on Gideon’s desk when we get back. But I can’t face the rest of them. Not like this.”

Dave had never seen Aaron so weak. His knees were pulled up to his chest, head against the car door. He looked so small, so young and terrified as to what was going to happen next. With a sigh, and well aware his suit was never going to recover, he sat next to Aaron, who flinched away.

“Hey, it’s okay. You haven’t disappointed anyone. I think you’re more than capable and would hate to see you go. It was an overwhelming crime scene, that’s all. It was your first time at one as well. And I would hate to see you resign.”

Aaron turned towards him. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. You’re unwell as well. Most people would’ve turned around or not gotten involved. You fought through that and showed more determination than a lot of the people I’ve met. You’re a good agent Aaron. An amazing profiler. You can lose it every once in a while. Just don’t do it in public.”

“Nobody else seems to lose it,” Aaron said.

“Maybe we should. Lord knows I want to.”

“He looked like my brother.”

It was such a sudden confession that for a moment Dave didn’t understand. When he did, he made a soft noise. “Oh Aaron,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Hotch’s shoulders, not even caring about the germs.

Hotch was falling apart in his arms and that terrified him, but he needed to be strong, if only until Hotch stopped sobbing.

“He never touched my little brother. Not once. I made sure of that. But when I saw- I couldn’t help it. All I could see was him and what could have happened.”

Dave shushed him. “But it didn’t. It didn’t and you’re both here. He’s not. It’s all going to be okay.”

Aaron groaned. “My stomach-”

Dave rubbed it gently. “My mother used to do this to me whenever I had a stomach-ache. I think it’s more psychological, but it may help. However, you also have a temperature and a cough, so I’m sending you back to the hotel. No arguing.”

Hotch shook his head. “I wasn’t about to.”

“Oh, I have a bottle of water for you as well,” he said, belatedly handing it to him.

Hotch smiled and took a few cautious sips. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“It’s okay. Are you good to stand?”

Aaron nodded, and although he was a bit shaky, Dave trusted that he would make it back to the hotel. Still, he knew what the ache in his chest was, and he wasn’t going to shy away from it anymore. If he did, Hotch wouldn’t go home safely to the girl he loved. And who Dave was beginning to see in a new light, now that other things had clicked.

Roughly ten years later, Spencer Reid was sick at his first crime scene. But when Aaron Hotchner went to help him the same way David Rossi had helped him, he saw Jason Gideon comforting the young agent- still so young that Hotch couldn’t help but view him as a kid.

Bile started to rise in his throat. He didn’t want to be bitter. It wasn’t fair to Reid because it wasn’t his fault. But he missed Dave. He missed having someone to talk to, someone to cry to, someone to be a little more vulnerable with. He missed Dave, and he was starting to realise that Jason Gideon would always love Spencer Reid more than him.

And he would always love the two of them more than they knew.

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 16)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions, car crashes (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 My Master Post

Remy met the beady little eyes outside the car window with a glare. The cow gazed back at him, a challenge in its eyes. “What are you looking at, future minced meat?” Remy asked.

“They’re dairy cows,” Emile said, head on the steering wheel.

“How the hell would you know?” Remy asked.

Emile looked up at him. “The crashed truck says, ‘Robinson’s Family Dairy.’”

Remy pursed his lips. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

Emile gave him a droll look.

“Maybe they’re the rejects!” Remy turned back to the cow. “I bet you’re too stupid to make milk, huh?”

The cow let out a breath that fogged the window between them.

“Bastard,” Remy grumbled at it.

“You are talking to a cow,” Emile reminded him.

“Oh, like you don’t talk to stuffed animals,” Remy shot back.

“At least I don’t make enemies with them and insult them.”

“She deserves it!”

“She’s just standing there. You’re taking out your frustrations on a farm animal.”

Remy looked back at the cow, his eyes narrowed. Its eyes peered back at him and they did not need to share a language to understand each other in that moment. “I’ll show you a coward,” Remy growled, taking off his seatbelt.

“No, Remy,” Emile hissed. “Don’t you dare.”

Remy ignored him and opened the door to climb out of the car.

“We are on the interstate!”

“Now, you listen here,” Remy said, staring the cow down. “You’ve already caused enough problems for me today. The least you can do is not stare me down in my own…or well my brother’s own car. You feel me?”

The cow stared at him blankly and made a mooing sound.

“Are you understanding the words that are coming out of my mouth right now?”

“I promise you, she isn’t,” Emile offered from the car.

Remy continued to stare the cow down. Finally, after a moment of staring, the cow turned away.

“Ha!” Remy said. “I win.”

“Get back in the car before you get trampled by a herd of cows,” Emile said.

“I’m not going to get trampled,” Remy insisted. “If anything, I’m establishing myself as their ruler.”

“Is this a productive use of your time?” Emile asked.

“Oh, what?” Remy said turning back to him. “And sitting in the car doing nothing is such a better use of my time? Thank you for your input, doctor.”

“Remington, please.”

“Oh, stop with the full name, bullshit,” he turned to cow nearest to him, “no offence intended,” he assured it before turning back to Emile. “You’re not our mother!”

There was a pause. “Remy,” Emile said calmly. “I know you’re upset about Virgil, but...”

“In fact,” Remy talked over him. “I’m older than you! Do you remember who put you through college so you could get that fancy degree you keep using on me tonight? Because it certainly wasn’t our mother because she was already fucking dead! Don’t act like you’re my parent because here’s the thing, I raised you by myself for three years. So, if I’m a shitty dad, you’re definitely fucked up somewhere under that shining topcoat of head doctor crap.”

“I never at any point said-” Emile started, but Remy cut him off.

“Oh, but we both know you’re thinking it!”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Remy.”

“No, no,” Remy said. “I know exactly what’s going through your head. I never should have been a parent, and I proved that with you when you were a teenager, but I still managed to knock up literally the worst person I could. I’m constantly making horrible parenting decisions and even when I try to be responsible, I mess it up. Virgil’s third word was a curse word and I’m lucky he never developed scurvy because I let him eat whatever he wants. He’s currently on a cross-country road trip with god knows who because I fucked up a covert mission I had no business being on and now he’s being tracked down by the woman who shot me with a poisoned bullet. I’m a horrible person and a worse dad. That’s what you’re thinking.”

There was a second where his brother looked at him with his stupid annoying face. “Have you considered that you’re projecting.”

“Ugh!” Remy threw up his hands and turned to walk away.

“Remy where are you going?” Emile called after him.

“I’m walking to base to go get my kid!” Remy called back.

“It’s over 70 miles away!”

He turned around and spread out his arms. “Then I’ll ride a bloody cow! It’ll be faster at this rate!”

“They’ll be cleared up in a few minutes Remy, come back here!” Emile said. Remy flipped him off. “I am not following you on foot!”

“Good!”

Remy turned back around and strutted off down the interstate, skirting cows and police officers the whole way. He grumbled to himself and refused to turn back even when he was pretty sure by the flow of traffic that the accident must have been cleared 15 minutes later.

This was so stupid. Why was he so stupid and useless? Emile was probably glad he ran off like a petulant toddler so he wouldn’t have to deal with him. He’d probably be more effective finding Virgil without Remy messing it all up anyway. He kept walking.

After a couple minutes a car slowed and stopped next to him on the side of the road. Remy looked up to meet Emile’s eyes through the rolled down window.

“Get,” Emile said firmly, “in the damned car.”

Remy blinked in surprise and then hurried to do so.

Emile didn’t speak again until the car was back at a normal speed. “His first word was ‘dad,’” he said, “and he’s happy. I’m not a parent, but from what I’ve observed, parents are allowed to mess up. As long as they do their best and their kid knows they’re loved, they’re a pretty good parent. If you ask me, you’re a good dad.”

“Yeah, well his second word was ‘pizza,’ so I don’t know if it makes me that special,” Remy grumbled.

Emile glanced at him.

“I mean,” Remy continued. “Thank you and sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Emile said. “You know I love you right?”

“Oh, god don’t get all mushy on me.”

“I’m serious,” Emile said. “I’ve been angry at you this entire trip because if you’d died today, I don’t know how I would have handled it. You were reckless, and it could have easily gotten you killed.”

“Don’t you think I know I’m stupid.”

“Stop that,” Emile snapped. “That’s not what I said.”

“Well then, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, why, Remy?” Emile said. “Are you bored? Do you want to go back in the field?”

“No,” Remy said quietly.

“Are you sure?” Emile asked. Remy didn’t answer. “If you do, that’s fine.”

“It’s not though.”

“You’re the one who made that decision and it was 15 years ago,” Emile reminded. “If you want to change your mind, that’s fine, but if you’re going to do it, you can’t just go do it. You have to talk to Logan first, to me, to your kid. Your actions affect other people.”

“I know that.”

“I know you know that, but you just…You get so involved in your head sometimes and forget to think about the consequences. Or worse you ignore them because they’re too hard to think about.”

Remy reached forward and turned on the radio.

“Really?!” Emile asked.

“Chill,” Remy said, turning the volume down, “I just don’t want to have another cow disaster.”

Emile nodded and seemed content to wait for him a few minutes so he could gather his thoughts.

“I’m trying, Em,” Remy said. “Bless their souls, but I’m trying to not be our parents. It’s like walking a tightrope. Go too far one way, you’re an asshole, go too far the other your kid’s running from his mother’s hired guns and throwing out the tracking device you put on him because he thinks you’re dead.”

“It should have to feel like that for you.”

“Yeah?” Remy asked. “And how do you propose I stop it?” Emile looked over at him and opened his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, see a therapist. Do you have any suggestions that don’t require me to bare my soul and talk about my daddy issues to some random person?”

“No.”

“Rats.” Emile chuckled at him.

“If it’s any consolation, they would have hated how you turned out. I mean they 100% would have still loved you and would have adored Virgil, but you’d get so many side-eyes over the dinner table. I mean, a child out of wedlock, Remy?”

“They’d have tried to get me to marry her,” Remy said. “Then I would have introduced them to her, and they would’ve said ‘fuck that.’ Do you think I could have gotten dad to say, ‘fuck that’?”

Emile giggled. “That would have been weird.”

Remy hummed in agreement. Then they petered off into silence. “I love you too Em.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 17

[lokislytherin]

euphoria // vampire!jungkook

pairing: vampire!jeon jeongguk x human!reader summary: you’re scared of vampires - until one saves your life one night. word count: 1988 + 1808 + 2373 + 1798 + 

chapters: prologue / chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / epilogue

Seokjin takes a deep breath.  "Y/N," he says, his voice icy cold, "just what exactly is going on?" The phone in his hands morphs into a medieval sword, the blade gleaming pink just like his phone case.  You're too busy gawking to respond.  Seokjin just performed an act of magic in front of you! Your roommate is a witch!

And then it finally sinks in - your roommate is a witch.

You've been sharing an apartment with a witch for well over a year, and you've only just found out.

Jeongguk frantically works to detach himself from you, wanting to wipe the blood on his mouth with a sleeve until he realizes his sleeves are also covered in blood.  He settles for licking most of it away, but there's still a drop of blood on his chin.  "I can explain-"

Seokjin glowers down at Jeongguk.  His glare is absolutely frigid, and if your cheeks were hot before, whatever heat there was is now gone.  "Is your name Y/N?"

"No," mumbles Jeongguk like a chastised child.

Angry Seokjin does tend to have this kind of effect on people.

"Yeah, I didn't think so either," the witch grumbles with a scowl.

He turns to you, and you wince in preparation for what's to come.  He attacks you with a barrage of questions.  "Y/N, how long have you been harboring this vampire? What made you think it was okay to associate yourself with him? Why did you let him suck your blood like that? He could've killed you, don't you realize that?" He sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose.  "See, this is exactly why I strengthened the wards.  I knew there was a bloodsucker that kept hanging around this place, but goddammit, Y/N, you were the one who kept letting him in!" He sounds frustrated, almost disappointed in you.

"He's my friend," you retort hotly, "he saved my life! Remember when I got home really late one night a month ago? That's because I almost got molested by some creepy old dude, and he helped me! He needed help just now, and what was I to do, push him away? He was dying!"

Seokjin sniffs haughtily.  "He doesn't look that dead to me.  Besides, he's a vampire.  He's already dead."

Jeongguk raises a hand.  "Technically, I'm undead? My heart doesn't beat, but I still need to eat and breathe and poop and everything," he adds in an attempt to be helpful, only to be met with a small sneer from Seokjin.  Neither of you are willing to back down.'

"You never told me you were a witch either," you say bitterly.  "You know who I had to hear that from?" You poke Jeongguk's arm.  "Him.  Do you think it's okay for you to keep your secrets from me but not for me to keep mine from you? Why do you even care how I live my life?"

Seokjin groans.  "I'm trying to keep you safe, Y/N! You're my friend, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you!"

"I'm almost eighteen, Jin! I'm old enough to fend for myself and deal with my own crap!" You're almost yelling at him, and you would've felt guilty if you weren't so angry.

Jeongguk's eyes go wide.  "Wait, Jin? Like Kim Seokjin Jin?"

doesn't look angry anymore, just plain tired.  "Am I supposed to know y-"

He squints.  "Jeon Jeongguk? Is that you?" He fumbles around for his glasses, only to realize he'd left them in his room.  

Jeongguk looks delighted.  "Yeah, that's me!" You can't help but feel a little out of place.  "You remember me?"

You shake your head.  This has been one of the most chaotic nights you have ever witnessed in your whole life, and you've had a lot of sleepovers with chaotic friends.  "What is going on?"

Jeongguk smiles shyly.  "Seokjin is a friend of mine, actually.  Or was.  I haven't seen him in person for a really long time."

Seokjin ruffles his hair playfully.  "You've grown so much, I almost didn't recognize you! I'm still taller, and you look exactly the same as you were when we were kids." He turns to you.  "I used to be neighbors with this brat," he says, "he and Tae were the most annoying squirts ever, but we moved to another district." He turns back to Jeongguk.  "If it makes you feel any better, he cried on the first night because you weren't there."

Jeongguk pouts, and your heart flutters.  "Aw, I hate it when he cries." He stands up, pouting some more when he confirms for himself that Jin is in fact taller.  He really is cute when he pouts.

“What happened to you?” Seokjin asks curiously.  “How’d you-” he waves his arms around, “-get turned?”

You turn to the young vampire, equally curious.  Every time you've brought up the subject in the past, he'd started to look shifty, evading your questions before changing the subject entirely.  You're interested to see how Seokjin fares.

Jeongguk starts to fidget, trying to use the same tactics to dodge the older man's question.  "It's kind of a long story-"

"It’s two AM," you pipe in, “you’ve actually got a few hours before daylight if that affects you. Besides, I don’t think I could sleep."

Jeongguk sighs, somehow managing to look beautiful and sad at the same time, like some kind of tragic pensive prince from a fairy-tale.  "Are you sure you want to hear?"

You nod reassuringly.  "It's okay, Jeonggukkie, you can tell me anything." You're not sure where the nickname came from, but it's cute and it fits him, so you continue.  "Besides, we had a bonding session! I cradled you in my arms!" You're not lying - Jeongguk had almost died in them too.  Well, died a little more than he already had, that is.

Jeongguk grins, the tip of his lips quirking up teasingly.  “Now, why can’t I seem to recall that? Surely I’d remember a pretty girl cradling me in her arms?”

This elicits a fierce blush from you, and you whack him in your attempt to cover it.  “Because you were unconscious, you idiot! You blacked out on me! You almost gave me a heart attack; did you know that?”

The vampire laughs, draping an arm around your shoulders.  “At least I’m your idiot.”

Seokjin doesn’t even bother to mask his discomfort, wrinkling his nose in what you can only class as mild disgust.  “That was so cheesy, JK.  Stop flirting with Y/N and explain.”

You laugh at his haughty expression.  "Maybe you're just jealous that you're almost thirty and still single." As much as you love him and support his relationships, making fun of his lack of relationships is much more fun.

"I'm being bullied," Seokjin mutters under his breath with a petulant scowl.  "Anyway, Jeongguk, please tell us your story.  We're all dying to know." Jeongguk raises an eyebrow.  "You know me, Jeongguk.  I'm not going to tell you the pun wasn't intended."

You snort, already well accustomed to your roommate’s badly timed dad jokes.  One of your friends from school also has quite the penchant for puns, and you’re not sure if facing her jokes are better or worse.  Allowing them to meet would be a disaster in the making.

"Anyway, Jeongguk, you can tell us.  If the vampire who turned you is dangerous and tries to attack you again for whatever reason, I'd protect you," you tell him earnestly.  "I don't have magic or super strength or good night vision, but I still learned to kick-box.  I punched a pervert in the face.  I'm not useless."

The vampire smirks, flexing.  You kind of wish he would strangle you with his thick, muscled thighs.  "Shouldn't I be the one protecting you? I'm the hot undead guy, you're the pretty damsel in distress, and clearly, Jin is the comic relief friend who's probably going to die first.  Besides, I rescued you from that pervert when he started chasing you." "You killed him because you were thirsty," you retort.

"What can I say?" Jeongguk has the decency to look sheepish.  "I'm not me when I'm hungry.  It's a vampire thing."

Seokjin points his phone-sword at Jeongguk threateningly.  "One more insult, brat, and you'll live the rest of your days as a disgusting undead spider instead.  I'm a witch, I'm legally allowed to do that."

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow.  "Last time I checked, transformation of objects wasn't your affinity."

Seokjin turns red, almost purple.  "I've gotten better at it, though.  I can and I will turn you into a spider that I can squish under my foot."

He turns his sword into a magic staff instead, and Jeongguk makes an "eep" sound when Jin pretends to form an incantation.  "Don't turn me into a spider," he says, "I like this human form."

"I like this form too," you say, subconsciously snuggling closer to his biceps, "I don't want you to turn into a spider."

You're a thirsty hoe, Jin mouths at you.  You can't deny it.

"I'd be the best looking spider you've ever seen," Jeongguk says seriously.  "Better than Jin."

Jin splutters, too well accustomed to being dubbed the 'handsome one' to hear Jeongguk saying "I'd be a better looking spider than you".  "Hey! JK!"

"I have arachnophobia," you deadpan.  "If you turned into a spider I'd scream and run away."

Jeongguk pouts.  "Aw."

"Anyway, story or spider, JK," says Jin menacingly.  His expression isn't very scary, but Jeongguk still gulps, well aware of the threat.  Jin will bark and bite in equal measures.  "Stop stalling."

Jeongguk scowls and makes a face.  "I'm getting to it, you impatient hag."

Jin cracks the staff down on Jeongguk's head, hard enough to hurt but not enough to injure.  "Don't call me a hag, you brat!"

Jeongguk whimpers, clutching his head and leaning towards you.  "Jin's a big meanie."

You laugh at their brotherly squabbling, petting the vampire's head absentmindedly (if you'd told your past self you'd be petting a vampire's head, your past self would've never believed it).  "We can kick him out later," you say, "but for now, let's listen to you, yeah?"

He nods.

[wincestisasincest]

2000 Man (A beatle!reader story) - Part 4: If Love is a Drug

She is back! And better than ever.....

Not really, sorry it’s been radio silence/lurking, she’s had something of a depressive episode recently, but she’s getting back on her feet. So yea, I don’t want to promise anything, but I’ll try to post more.

And finally get a masterlist at some point with this series, for goodness’ sake.

So yea. 

When should I stop crediting @casafrass for this? I feel like it’s getting annoying, but it’s only fair. 

Description: It’s the year 2000, and y/n, the fifth member of the Beatles, is advertising her new book, Madam Beatle, in her first interview of the year. We see snapshots of her life, from when she joined the band, to the trials and tribulations, to the death of the band, and everything in between. Loosely inspired by Slumdog Millionaire.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4

Headcanons: Based off of this one, though like, not really, just the general vomit theme. 

Words: 3,951 (woop, she’s a long one, get ready for some TEA)

Pairings: Honestly, just let me know if you would like me to put some pairings in here, because most of all of the ones that I’ve written, you can read it either way, so please, just let me know! 

Warnings: Vomit, drugs, pills, violence, swearing

“So I understand that at one point you talk about a conversation that you had with Judy Garland.” 

“Yes, she and I met, actually I don’t remember where, but it was one of those random ‘high society’ parties, and we struck up a sort of conversation. I think we found each other’s stories interesting, because, as women in the entertainment industry, even across film and music, there were some startling similarities.” 

“Would you care to expand on those similarities a little?” 

“I mean, besides the fact that so much of the focus is on our bodies, which we’ve already discussed, the zeitgeist of the time seemed to be that women simply weren’t ready to handle all of the pressures that that sort of system put on us. Of course, this meant drugs, particularly amphetamines, which were quite vogue in the US at the time. Judy and I were both familiar with that sort of concept, however, the difference lied in that Judy chose to go on amphetamines, and I was given them.” 

“Given them by...?” 

“EMI, mostly, but everyone, including me, was complicit in a way. Though, it did slip more into self-regulation in the Beatles’ later years, and I even fully recovered by my solo career. But yea, especially in the earlier ones, during our massive concert tours, a lot of it was... very strong suggestions.”

“You were known for being very strong-willed, though.” 

“Yeah, but y’know, it’s my career. I guess at the time, even if EMI had let me go, I could’ve gone somewhere else on the name alone, but I was young, stupid, and scared of non-existent threats, so I really did put up with it for quite long.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She hasn’t come out of that room since last night.” 

“It’s called sleeping, Rings.”

“It’s past noon! She came straight up here after dinner last night.” 

“And she locked the door.” 

“Very suspicious.” 

“You think we could get Mal to break it down?” 

“What if there’s a guy in there?”

“Then we’ve got to break it down.” 

“She’s an adult!” 

“What if she’s DEAD?” 

“Someone get Mal.” 

Your eyes fluttered open. With friends like these, who needs an alarm clock? 

Through blurry eyes, you could read the actual alarm clock: 3:17. 

Everything was alright for about 20 seconds, and then all of the crappy feelings had re-settled into your wakened state. Your legs felt like they were filled with cement, your nose was congested, your hands were clammy, you were extremely sweaty even though it was absolutely freezing, and you were stilled tired, even though you had gone to bed at 7:30 last night. 

You sauntered over to the door, pulling on a pair of sweat pants over your bare legs. 

You pressed your sweaty fingers down on the cool lock and pulled it open. 

“Do not! Call Mal! I am here.” Four blank faces gawked back at you, all far more spritely than you cared to admit that you weren’t. The suits were on as well. 

“Is that what you look like without makeup?” John quipped in mock-surprise. He knew damn well what you looked like without makeup, he just couldn’t give up a chance to be his sarcastic asshat self. You sighed.

“Not now, please, John.” The light in the main suite was too bright, so you pushed your head into the doorway and closed your eyes. You wanted to sit down again. 

“(y/n), love, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it is 3:30, and you’ve got to get your act together at some point.” You couldn’t see his face, but you knew that was Ringo.

“I know what time it is, I’m just... eurgh,” You didn’t bother opening your eyes, “This shit is exhausting.” 

“We can’t can-” 

“I know, I know,” you interrupted Paul, “I’ll be out in fifteen minutes.” 

- time skip brought to you by I am very tired - 

“(y/n), do you want me to carry that?” George appeared at your side, holding his hand out near yours, grabbing at the guitar case. 

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You chuckled weakly. 

“Your playing was off. You missed a few chords. You didn’t smile as much, and your voice was weaker. I can tell.” 

“Rough night is all. Remember, we can’t cancel even if I am sick. But I’m fine.” Your grip on the guitar case loosened unconsciously as your arm felt weaker. 

“Sure.” George swung his hand in and grasped at the handle of your case, before taking it in his own. You sighed, but still didn’t feel like answering. 

“What a gentleman you are, Georgie.” John ruffled his hair with his free hand. 

A pattering of very angered footsteps approached behind you, and you instantly knew who it was. Only one man could angrily footstep like that.

“What the hell was that, (y/n)?” Brian spun you around to look at him. Though you could tell that there was some softness in his eyes, and that he was perhaps worried just as much for you as for your reputation, he was still fuming. 

“Whaddya mean?” You fumbled out. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice. You were out of it tonight. Well? What was it? Weed? Cocaine? Alcohol? All of them?!”

“Scout’s honor, Brian, it was just a weird night.” Brian’s grip loosened on your shoulders, as he facepalmed. He looked back up at you sympathetically.

“You’re a little pale, (y/n), perhaps you should take an early night.” You peered over your shoulder, only to catch the lads instantly trying to pretend like they weren’t listening in on your conversation. You were going to go to a very fancy club tonight, and you had been looking for a chance to dress up. You looked back at Brian, who was almost sweating. Anything to ease his worry. 

“Alright, just this night. Even though I swear I’m fine.” 

“Right, right. Why don’t you head back with the equipment, and I’ll head out with the boys?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” You sighed and could feel your eyes droop. You trudged back to the black van and hauled yourself in the back, giving a small wave to Mal in the mirror. He nods understandingly. You shut the van doors. 

“Where’s she goin’?” You hear John bug Brian like a petulant child.

“Back to the hotel, I think.” 

“Killjoy.” Paul muttered.

George just watched the van leave over Ringo’s shoulder, whom he was deeply in conversation with. 

- time skip - 

It happened again. You had fucked up again. You’d missed some of your chords, your voice had cracked at one point, and not in the hot way, and your energy on stage was no longer a bubbly bounce, but a gentle, almost sleepy, swaying. 

Your fuck-up only really hit you after, though, as you had zoned out while you were on stage. 

You couldn’t go out to face the boys. You just couldn’t. You sat in your locked dressing room, head in your hands, as you stared at your knees trying not to pass out. Everything was blurry. 

You were awakened from your thoughts by a loud thumping. You could feel your stomach drop. It was an angry knock. Why did men always have to be so angry? 

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there.” It was John. Of course it was John. It was always John. He never knew when to stop. 

You leaned back in your chair, dazed, knowing full well that you didn’t have to let him in if you didn’t want to. You shakily pulled a cigarette out of a pack on the table and it it with your delicately engraved lighter while the pounding continued. He would die out there if he had to. 

“Whaddya want?” You blew a plume of smoke and coughed.

“Why are women always so dramatic? Just let me in, damnit!” 

“Not if you don’t stop acting like a petulant goddamn child!”

“Call me a child, will you? I’m not the one who can’t handle every goddamn concert. What? Are you too tired? Awww, I’m sorry. Do you need a nap?” 

You could feel your eyes brim with tears. You put out the cigarette, grabbed your bag, and opened the window. The wind blew in your face, and it was almost calming. Using the gymnastics skills that you had honed as a kid, you slunk out the window and onto the open street, your heels clacking on the pavement. You pulled a coat over your face and called a taxi, only offering cash but making sure to keep your looks relatively obscured. Back to the hotel, where you could sleep it all off.

- Time skip - 

You slept for 20 hours, and yet, you still woke up feeling all the worse. The clock read 4:00. You were about to be late for call. There was no shuffling outside, so you could assume that the lads had already left. Awesome. 

You fixed your hair, grabbed your guitar, called a limo, and added small touches of makeup on the ride there. You could barely feel anything anymore, and your body had gone completely numb. You chunked on foundation way more than usual as to hide the cold sweat and incredible paleness that your face had broken out in. Some of the powder drifted over your lips, and you felt a welling of stomach acid churn. 

You swallowed, took a deep breath, and your stomach calmed down once more. You were backstage. 

You thanked the cab driver before slipping through the back door, barely being able to make it open. The first thing you met was Brian having a panic attack, which actually made sense for once, as there was about 15 minutes until you were on stage. 

“(Y/n)! Where the bloody hell were you?!” The rest of the lads were behind him, speaking and looking at you like some high school girl’s clique. You shot them an angry, but weak, stare.

“No one woke me up.” 

“You look like death.” Paul piped up from the back.

“You’ll meet death very fuckin’ soon-” You had no time for any of the sass anymore, but a hand clamping on your shoulder cut you off. You looked up to your left, and were greeted by the face of Neil Aspinall. 

“That’s enough of that, (y/n), we have something to do.” He didn’t wait for your answer, but simply lead you backstage. You were far too dazed to resist, so you simply let him steer. 

“So, the company, not me, heard that you haven’t exactly been on your A-game lately, and they recommended something.” You nodded, still not listening.

“Apparently, a lot of rockstars use it, they heard about it from the manager of the Animals or something, so I thought we could give it a try. It’s supposed to help you get that burst of energy that you need.” He patted your shoulder joyfully.

“Now, this is all of the company’s doing, so, if you don’t want to take them, then I completely understand, and I’ll just tell them that you did, but I am supposed to mention them.” Neil’s voice drifted off. In front of you was a table with several small white pills and a glass of water. 

“No. I’ll take it. We gotta a show to do.” You were sure that Neil said something, but you didn’t hear, as you were too busy downing the pills and the water in one determined gulp. 

- Time skip - 

That night was the most energetic that you had been. Almost too energetic. Your eyes were shot and pink, though fortunately all of the audience was too far away to notice. Your playing was erratic and very harsh, though the screaming was too loud to hear. Your vocals, well, those would not be matched until some actual crackheads took the stage later. 

None of your actions felt deliberate, everything felt at the whim of the surges of energy jolting through your body, while your actual mind just felt more and more disconnected, and your stomach churned. The lights gave you a pulshing headache. 

Three-quaraters through the show, you began to come back to Earth again, though not because the drugs were wearing off, but because something else was beginning to emerge. You could feel it. The wave rising up in your stomach. You swallowed. You shouted the lyrics into the microphone. You put your all into the song, even though you no longer felt the energy. You were not going to mess up on stage again. 

Paul gave you some side-eye. Though the fans were absolutely eating up, he wasn’t buying your shtick. 

Finally, you made it to the last number. The crowd screamed. Your heart pounded in your chest. You were sweating like crazy, and your hair was sticking to your face. Your legs felt wobbly, but you thew a hand up and waved goodbye to the crowd, as well as to any sense of calm in your stomach. 

As you shambled off stage, Ringo scrambled up behind you and put an arm around your shoulder, steadying you. Oh god, even he knew and he couldn’t see your face. Your guitar was slung around your shoulder, but you forgot that it existed, and slammed it into a poor stagehand. 

With your last sense of control left, you removed our guitar the minute that you got off stage and handed it to said stagehand, who was highly confused, while you grabbed the nearest trashcan and heaved your entire stomach into it. Mind you, since you had slept for the last day, there were hardly contents to begin with, just raw stomach acid.

Your throat burned, you sweat, and your eyes wanted to do nothing but close. You could feel gentle hands pulling your hair back, while startled screams and yells rose up backstage. You didn’t care. You had fallen to your knees, taking the trashcan with you, still completely retching your stomach into anything that would take it. 

“What the hell did you do ta her?”

“It wasn’t me, it was that stuff that EMI sent over?” 

“What stuff?”

“I don’t know, pills, something!”

“You gave her pills? She’s clearly had the fucking flu, on top of dealing with your ridiculous schedule. 

“I just did what they told me to do!”

“Brian! I want you to end the contract with EMI right now.” 

“John, you don’t mean that, sit down.”

“I second.” 

“Paul, John, why don’t we all just-”

“No! If this is how they choose to treat people, to treat (y/n), then I don’t want anything to do with them. Look at what you’ve done to her!

“What I’ve done?! This is not just me, and you know it.”

“I never said give her fucking pills!” 

“You never say anything, you just yell!” 

“Mal, can you call an ambulance?”

“Already done, Georgie.” 

The vomit stopped, and you lifted your head up, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. Ringo’s hands gently fell from your hair. 

“No, no ambulance, I’m fine.” Your voice was so raspy, like your throat had been torn out. 

John, Paul, Brian, and Neil froze in the middle of their argument while George and Mal cocked their heads to look at you from the side. John only stayed quiet for a second.

“You’re not fine, you’re on fucking drugs!” He lurched forward, approaching you. You could feel your stomach quell again. You swallowed. 

“Any drug that I was on,” you breathed deeply, “is in there.” You pointed to the trashcan. 

“You’re being ridiculous, I-” 

“No! Fuck you! You don’t get to say shit!” that come out far louder than you expected. You stood at your full height, willing to handle the discomfort if it meant telling him off. You’d even surprised John/

“How the fuck can you pretend like I’m the one acting ridiculous right now considering all the shit that you said to me yesterday? How far does your fucking double standard go? Of all the sins you’ve committed, John Lennon, I never thought that hypocrisy would be one of them. Get a grip, goddamnit! This is just as much your fault as it is mine, and I know you know that, so look me in the eye and for a goddamn second confront the consequences of your actions!” You were breathing very heavily now, whether with anger or exhaustion, and you could feel a surge of energy come through you yet again, though this time you weren’t sure if it was the drug.

You lunged at John, aiming your fist at his face. Everyone suddenly shifted into action all of a sudden, with George and Ringo holding you back and Paul pulling John away, though you noted that Paul refused to look John in the eye. 

“Woah, woah, (y/n), take it easy. Calm down. It’s alright, it’s alright.” You could hear George softly try to calm you, though your heavy breathing continued, and at some point along the way, you ended up crying into his shoulder as Ringo patted your back. 

“Come on, you’ve done enough.” You heard footsteps shuffle away, followed shortly after by another pair, leaving you, George, Ringo, and a very awkward Mal.

You cried until there were no tears left to cry. Your legs got tired from standing at some point, so you simply sat down, with George and Ringo joining you as Mal left to explain to the ambulance that they wouldn’t be needing their services today. 

You swallowed, and you could feel the tears begin to stick to your cheeks.

“We should probably go back to the hotel.” You leaned against George’s shoulder pensively.

“If you’re up to it, Birdie.” 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” 

You stood up weakly as Ringo wrapped his jacket around you. The three of you returned to the hotel without another word.

- Time skip -

You, George, and Ringo, slowly creaked open the door to your shared massive suite. Paul sat in the middle of the room, a beam of moonlight illuminating his face, legs crossed, just as he was waiting for you. John was nowhere to be seen.

“There you are!” he said in a stage whisper, “I was worried sick!” He rose from his chair and approached your trio. 

Before you could even anticipate what he was doing and protest, he wrapped you in a very warm hug. He was always good at those. He held you like he was afraid to lose you, and you used what strength you had left to return it with all your might, as if you were afraid to lose him. The two of you stayed like that for a minute, without words, before he separated. 

“You best get some sleep. All of you.” His eyes traveled to George and Ringo, and it was clear that there was no more room for negotiation.

The three of you gently drifted into your rooms with Paul watching you all leave. The minute your face touched your pillow, you fell into a dreamless sleep. 

- Time skip -

God only knows how long you had slept, but the growling of your stomach woke you up next morning. You felt a lot better, at least, and the mothering of Paul, making sure that you ate and drank enough, and that you didn’t need anything, made sure that you were gradually on your way to some form of recovery. 

Paul, as you had learned, was originally the one who had postulated that you had some form of the flu, and the symptoms proved his predictions correct. Thankfully, he was well equipped to care for people with the flu, having done so for his family growing up, so he knew all of the common remedies. 

John was still nowhere to be found, but George and Ringo emerged from their rooms one by one, and the four of you lazed around, reading papers and watching the news, for the rest of the morning. 

When you finally asked where John was, Paul answered that he had gotten up early and gone for a walk. Pretty long walk, you guessed, but didn’t pry. 

At noon, there was a gentle knock on the door. Paul admitted a very sheepish looking Brian into the suite. He approached the table. 

“How are you feeling?” 

You took a long sip of water.

“I’m alright, better than yesterday.” 

“That’s good.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck. There were other things on his mind. 

“Um, I wanted to apologize, on behalf of me, and Neil, who is speaking to the company at this point, he’s trying to-” 

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, pausing to gather your thoughts, “No, really, it is. You didn’t know, and neither did I, and neither did Neil. And I’m alive. Now we just know not to do it again.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you shifted in our seat to grab the tea pot, though Brian shook his head, “No, no, I must be going, we’re traveling again today. But, enjoy your tea, and I’ll see you in a few.” 

You nodded sagely. Brian began to take his leave, but halfway through the door, he turned around to look at the solemn crowd.

“You know, you all really do mean a lot to me. I promise you that. Not as clients, but people. This will not happen again.” And with that, he left.

- Time skip (last one, we’re almost done folks) - 

“I’ll take that.” John grabbed the large box off your hands, and you squeaked with surprise. His face twisted into an unfamiliar expression of damaged concern almost instantly.

“Oh, sorry, I just didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Yeah, I was on a walk this morning.” He continued to struggle with the box. You’d finally had enough of it, and leaned in to help him haul it to the top of the shelf in the crate. 

The two of you stood there awkwardly, both refusing to look the other in the eye.

“I-”

“You-”

You both began speaking at the same time, interrupting eachother. 

“You go first. “ He offered.

“No, no, I’ve said enough.” You waved your hands defensively.

“So have I.” He chuckled. 

Another awkward silence. 

“I guess,” he began, “I’m sorry for saying that shit to you. I was stressed, angry, and I know that’s not an excuse, but then you got on the drugs, and I was so worried, and I guess I just never realized...” he trailed off, realizing that he was just on the verge of not making sense. He took a deep breath. 

“I guess, what I”m trying to say is that I would never, ever, want you to do what you had to do there. It wasn’t fair of me to put that kind of pressure on you, and everyone else. And, you didn’t hear it from me, but I’ll try to do better.” 

You chuckled lightly. 

“That sounds like a plan. And, I guess I’m sorry for not coming to you sooner.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yes, I do. I just let you get worried about me, stupidly thinking that I could handle it all by myself, and I just totally forgot about everyone else. It’s kind of ironic that I, uh, snapped at you about how  your actions affect others, when I did the same exact thing. So, uh, I’ll work on that too.”

You swore you could see the smallest bit of a smile on his face. The first one in a while.

“Well then,” he thrust out his hand, “let’s make that a deal. Mutual forgiveness, and hopefully, mutual progress”

You took his warm hand in yours.

“You got it, John.”

[prettywordsyouleft]

Guardian: Hand-Picked (collab)

Summary: You had lived for years with just you and your guardian angel, Changkyun. But when Kihyun enters your world, things change – for the better.

Pairing: Im Changkyun x Yoo Kihyun x reader (not in a love triangle way)

Genre: guardian angel au / humour / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: This is part of the Guardian collab with @this-song-thats-only-for-you​ and @goodnightkisseu​. It was an impromptu idea from one of those MX games by your zodiac sign, so we went with who we got and created a story from it!

Word count: 2651

Other stories in this collab: By My Side | Hidden Glances

Your life had been pleasant for the most part. You had grown up well enough, leaving your awkward teenage years behind you and blossoming into an adult. Sure, you sometimes missed the simplicity of being a child without adult pressures, but you were naturally responsible and thrived with a lot of the new chances you had as grown-up making your mark in the world.

You would go to work, enjoy hanging out with friends and exploring new places when you had the chance to. And when the day was over, you would return to your apartment, cook dinner and then snuggle up with a good movie or book before going to bed and starting it all over the next day. It hadn’t felt like you needed any change to this daily in and out lifestyle you lived. You were content with what you already had.

Meeting Yoo Kihyun, however, changed all of that. Having a boyfriend was a new experience. Going out was now with someone who would hold your hand and smile endlessly at you. He would feed you the most delicious meals and whisper the sweetest compliments. If you had ever dreamed of having someone in your life, you were sure you had wished for Kihyun. He was exactly who you could ever want in a partner.

And you had your guardian angel to thank for that.

“Don’t go out today,” Changkyun warned you explicitly as you walked back and forth from your small bathroom to your not much bigger bedroom preparing for the day ahead. He followed right behind you, tapping you on your shoulder and letting out whines, the next more outlandish than the last. “Y/N, don’t! It’s going to end badly.”

“What is? I’m perfectly fine now, am I not?”

He rolled his eyes. “Because you’re home with me.”

“I can’t imagine anything changing for the worse, Kyun. I’m just going to work like I usually do.”

“And I’m just telling you what I feel in my stomach. It’s my job to pre-warn you of ill-fated events, Y/N.”

You shot Changkyun a hard look. “Last month you told me the same. I stayed home and you realised halfway through the day it was just indigestion. Which, I cannot believe an angel can suffer from!”

“Okay, so I made one mistake--”

“And two months ago you told me I would be in trouble so I again stayed home and then realised it was because you were cold and wanted to snuggle up all day long!”

Sitting down on the edge of your bed so you could put on your socks, Changkyun knelt before you, placing his hands on both of your knees.

“--a lot of mistakes, then. This time, Y/N, I’m not using my abilities to benefit me. Stay home, please. I don’t feel good about this.”

Letting out a sigh, you patted one of his shoulders affectionately. “I’ll be fine. And I promise if I feel odd at any point, I’ll just turn around and come back home.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Y/N!” he exclaimed as you got up and brushed passed him, shrugging on your coat and stepping into your boots. Changkyun swiftly took place in front of the door shaking his head. “I’m being serious. Don’t go.”

“I didn’t work for an entire month on this presentation to miss it, Kyun. I’ll be home later.”

Stepping under his arm, you opened the door and started your trek through the rain to the subway.

From here, you knew fewer details. Changkyun had informed you that you had ended up walking across a road that a car had suddenly lost control on and careened around, hitting you right as a man pulled you to safety.

And that was how you had met Kihyun in the first place.

When you woke in the hospital, he had been at your side, immediately relieved to see you alert again. And all you had noticed was the gash on his cheek and a forlorn-looking Changkyun behind him.

He had sent Kihyun forward to save you at the last minute.

What Changkyun – or even you, admittedly – hadn’t been prepared for was how much of an impact Kihyun’s arrival in your life would make.

And now, you were packing up the last of your things and moving in with your boyfriend of a year.

Much to Changkyun’s disdain.

“How are we meant to still live together?” Changkyun wondered as you zipped your luggage bag full of your necessities shut. He shifted back and forth across the tiny space of your bedroom and threw his hands in the air. “This is not what we should be doing, Y/N.”

“You’ve seen Kihyun’s apartment, it’s double the size of this place. There will be plenty of room for us to still live together.”

“I’d rather live in this shoebox for the rest of your life. Or move somewhere bigger. Just the two of us.”

“On my salary?” you mentioned, raising an incredulous eyebrow at the angel. “Seriously?”

“So let’s just stay here. We’re cosy here.”

“I can’t expect Kihyun to move in here!” you replied with a giggle, lifting your luggage off the bed. “This place barely fits us!”

“Let’s not move in with him at all.”

“You sound like a petulant child, Changkyun,” you warned and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“I don’t care. I like it being just you and me.”

“And I like Kihyun, a lot. So can’t you be a little accommodating with this change?”

His immature grunt ended the argument but the stormy mood followed you all the way over to your new home, a scoff leaving him when you stretched up to kiss Kihyun in greeting.

“Is this really happening?” your boyfriend breathed as he held you tightly. “I don’t have to wake up tomorrow and send you back home?”

“I wish you would,” the angel muttered, unbeknownst to Kihyun.

“Instead we get to wake up in each other’s arms every day,” you offered and Kihyun grinned, kissing you briefly before blinking really fast. You frowned. “What is it?”

“I turned up the thermostat earlier but it’s suddenly so cold in here! You’re not freezing, are you?”

Sending a glare to the angel now playing with the heating system, you then tried to smile at Kihyun. “It’s going to be fine together; I’m sure whatever it is will settle down soon.”

Except, Changkyun didn’t settle any.

It was obvious that he was bitter and targeted Kihyun immaturely. And whenever your boyfriend wasn’t around, you were endlessly scolding him for his antics, telling him to stop being so rude to someone you cared about. You didn’t think you were being unreasonable, and considering Changkyun had sent Kihyun to your side, you had expected him to be relieved that you had someone he had handpicked.

Still, Kihyun was uncomfortable most days. “I had the worst sleep last night.”

“Did you? I slept so well,” you murmured, coming over to rub your partner’s shoulders gently. “Any reason why?”

“Something kept tickling my nose but every time I looked, there was nothing there!”

You narrowed your gaze on the angel eating toast across the room.

And when Kihyun went to take his shower, you rushed over and slapped the back of his head. “I swear to god, you are being so immature, Changkyun! Stop annoying Kihyun.”

“Maybe he’d have a better night’s rest sleeping in the guest room.”

“And why would he want to sleep there? Where would you then sleep?!”

“With you, like I used to.”

“Don’t be so ridic-”

“Y/N?” Kihyun called weakly, standing in the threshold and watching you in confusion. “What, or who are you talking to?”

“Uhhhhh.”

“Maybe I should show myself to your lover. You look insane right now,” Changkyun mused and you let out a small shriek before stomping off to the bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Even if a locked door could keep Kihyun out, it would be no match for an angel. However, you had become incredibly skilled in ignoring Changkyun when he annoyed you too much. And since he hated when you ignored him, it was as effective as a locked door was.

“Y/N, stop, come on! It’s me, Kyun! Don’t be so petty!”

You remained focused on the wall ahead of you.

“Fine, I’ll stop being so mean to him. I just don’t like Kihyun!”

“Why?” you asked and he breathed out in relief at finally garnering your attention.

“Because he’s, well he’s-”

“Because you think I pay him more attention than you, isn’t that right? You’re not used to sharing.”

The angel shrunk back, muttering under his breath and then nodded once.

“Kihyun thinks I’m absolutely insane now. You better help me fix this.”

“You have a what?” your boyfriend breathed once you had explained everything to him, staring at you with round eyes.

“Everyone has one,” you told him calmly. “Just some people aren’t aware of who they are. I had an incident when I was a kid where I fell out of a tree and Changkyun – my angel – was there when I woke up. Since then, he’s been with me every day.”

“Even when we’ve been dating?”

You nodded.

“And in the bedroom when we’re…?”

“Good god, I would never want to see that,” Changkyun retorted with a generous shudder as you shook your head repeatedly.

“No, but I lived with him before I met you and-”

“You lived with him?”

“As friends,” you reiterated and Changkyun nodded firmly. “Well, more like family. He’s a brother to me.”

“And he’s the reason we met that day?” You nodded to answer Kihyun’s question. “I always think about why I boldly stepped out that day as if I knew I had to. I didn’t even know what I was doing until it happened. And you’re saying some angel of yours made me?”

“Changkyun, show yourself, please,” you asked and with a sigh, Changkyun did whatever he had to make himself known to Kihyun.

And when he caught sight of him, Kihyun gasped noisily. “I know him!”

“You do?”

“I saw him right when I saved you.”

“Well, now he’s a believer,” Changkyun surmised disinterestedly, pointing to the kitchen. “Can dinner be started soon? I’m hungry.”

You took a deep breath, hoping that this was the right step forward to make both the most important men in your life live together with more ease.

It wasn’t just Changkyun now. You stared back at Kihyun, trying to fathom what he had just said. Your boyfriend pointed harshly to the angel now taking refuge behind you. “Again?!”

“You forgot to set me a place at the table!”

“You do know how sensitive Changkyun is about food,” you agreed weakly and Kihyun scoffed.

“Still, he made the water run cold on me right as I got the shampoo in my hair! What are you? Four years old?”

“Try adding on centuries to that!”

“My head hurts,” you proclaimed, moving over to the couch before glaring at both men who followed. “Can’t you both just get along for one day?!”

“He started this!”

“And so that gives you enough reason to take it out on me like a baby?!”

“You’re both acting like children,” you told them and folded your arms across your chest. “This is exhausting.”

“He’s got to go, Y/N!”

“Me?!” Changkyun echoed and laughed bitterly. “I was here first, if anyone has to go, it’s you, lover boy!”

“Anyone would think you have a crush on my girlfriend! In case you’ve forgotten, Y/N sees you as a brother. And I’m not going anywhere!”

“You know what?” you offered, standing back up as both men reached for one another. “I’ll go!”

“What?”

“Where would you go?” Kihyun added as you stalked over to the front door, collecting your bag from the entryway shelf. “It’s cold out today.”

“I don’t think it’s wise to leave, Y/N.”

“Well, I don’t care what’s wise or cold. Right now, I want to escape the both of you! This is getting ridiculous and I want to get out of here before I snap! Do not follow me in any way or I’ll never come back!”

And then you slammed the door behind you and stormed out into the street.

For an hour or two, you simply wandered, allowing your sour mood to dissipate whilst you walked wherever your feet would take you. After three hours, you took refuge in a coffee shop, thanking the clerk for bringing you a warm beverage that melted away any remaining chill within you as you sipped at it. For another hour, you watched the people go by and after six hours away from home, you decided to have a meal before heading home. It was really late now, and for once, you felt a little out of your comfort zone. You were never out this late alone and it made your footsteps hurried until you saw the apartment building.

There, you slowed right down to a snail’s pace; concerning yourself with the possible scenarios you would find when you opened the front door. You knew Changkyun couldn’t be badly harmed, and angels were sworn not to physically harm another. Still, you worried they were still fighting away with each other, and you really didn’t have the energy to face that.

You prepared yourself to simply enter the house and sleep in the guest room alone tonight. Instead, when you walked through the door, you heard a loud gasp and combined movement towards you.

“Thank god, you’re safe.”

“Don’t ever leave us like that again, Y/N.”

“Don’t you know how worried we were?”

“We?” you repeated as both men smothered you in their arms, neither fighting for more of you than the other. “Who’s we?”

Kihyun pulled away and Changkyun stepped to his side. “We’ve called a truce.”

“We decided we had something in common.”

“You do?” you asked and both men nodded happily.

Changkyun smiled. “We both love you a lot. Of course, in our own ways.”

“And not having you in our lives – existences – is unbearable.”

“So don’t leave us ever again, okay?”

You tried to not smile too widely. “You mean it?”

“Plus, I like this house, and Kihyun’s food.”

“Changkyun’s like the little brother I never had,” Kihyun quipped.

“Well, does this mean I won’t hear fighting anymore?”

“Of course!”

“We’ll be on our best behaviour!”

“Good, because I can’t handle the best people in my life at odds with each other,” you concluded, hugging them both individually.

“You ate without us?” Changkyun suddenly accused after inhaling into the hug and Kihyun gaped at you.

“We were sick with worry and you ate?”

“Well, I got hungry and-”

“Don’t worry, Kyun, I’ll make us something delicious.”

“Good, and Y/N isn’t allowed any.”

“Of course not!”

You laughed and shook your head; at least they were getting along, which was what you had hoped for so long now.

Life wasn’t as quiet as it once was. You’d still come out to find both of them bickering over something, but you just learned that it was how they were. Equally, they were the type to hold onto one another watching sad movies instead of you and even you had jealous moments when it came to their bromance.

But you were thankful. Not only had Kihyun saved you, but he had saved Changkyun too. You had lived far too long stuck in the same routine in the same small space that you hadn’t hoped for anything more than that.

Having chaos in your world meant you were always waiting to see what would happen next. And you realised that this suited you far better. You got to spend your days with your best friend and the love of your life. Sometimes that would be a blessing or a curse, but you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

_________________

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[kazzmcsass]

Journalism with the Boys

Chapter 4: Horror Movie Party Thing

Word Count: 2154

Dakotah almost didn't make it to the mini horror convention. He was suddenly woken up with his phone rattling relentlessly on his bedside table. When did he fall asleep? He did not have the time for a nap. Dakotah picked up the phone and flicked it open, squinting at the name of whoever dared call him.

He let out an annoyed, hissing sigh and picked up the call, "What?" 

"Where are you?" Jack's staticky voice came to him.

Dakotah panicked for a moment before he looked at his plastic alarm clock. He still had 45 minutes to get ready and leave, "At home, why are you calling me?"

"You got a car, right? Need a ride," Jack said.

Dakotah flopped back in bed, held his phone far away from him, then pressed his face into his crooked elbow so he could groan as loud as he could. Seconds later he had already collected himself again, "Why are you only asking now?" 

"Damn, you got a pet jaguar or somethin'?" Jack asked.

Dakotah did not respond.

"Okay, listen. I was gonna have someone else drop me off there but they bailed out last minute. I'm president so I'm supposed to be there and you're vice president so you gotta help me," Jack explained.

"I don't have to do shit," Dakotah grumbled.

"Come on, man," Jack whined.

Dakotah sat up and grumpily closed the textbook he was supposed to have been reading, "Fine. Okay. Let me know where to pick you up."

Thankfully Jack actually didn't live too far away from SCCC. Since he didn't drive or have his own car he presumably walked to campus. Dakotah had to rush getting ready to have enough time for the detour to pick up Jack and get to the library on time.

Jack’s house actually looked quite nice, on the outside at least. Jack lived in a nice little neighborhood with a house that looked like it was owned by a middle aged Karen type. Thankfully Dakotah didn't even have to call Jack before he was out of the house and booking it towards his car.

Jack slammed his door unnecessarily loud and sighed, "I knew you'd come in clutch." He slouched down in the seat and stared out the windshield, fixing up his slicked back hair, until he realized they weren't moving and Dakotah was staring at him, "Gonna get going?"

"Your seatbelt," Dakotah said simply.

Jack rolled his eyes, but clicked his seatbelt into place without complaining. Then they left. They were silent, Jack not saying anything and Dakotah not having anything to say. Dakotah eventually turned the radio up to a polite volume. He rather liked jazzy music and morning talk shows. At one point Dakotah realized that Jack was tapping his fingers against the dashboard to the tune of the piano as he stared out his passenger window. He decided not to say anything about it.

The library was a good ways away from Jack's house and they only started conversation in the last few minutes.

"Is Courtney doing okay?" Dakotah asked. They didn't really cross paths through the day, so he hadn't seen Courtney in some time.

"Yeah, taking it like a champ," Jack said, "The guy's really acting like he always has."

"Okay, thank god. I couldn't imagine how awkward it would be if he was moping about. Not that I would blame him," Dakotah said.

He carefully pulled into the cluttered parking lot of the library the event was taking place at. He had to wait as a soccer mom guided her herd of kids across the lot, not even sparing him a nod or wave. Prick. Jack was nice enough to point out that all the spots seemed to be taken. Dakotah hated driving. He eventually found a spot and had to finesse his way into it.

Jack exited the vehicle as soon as he turned the engine off, immediately on his phone. Dakotah took his time as he wasn't in a damn rush like him. He had to lock the car from the inside as the clicker on his keys never worked since he got the old thing. Jack was waiting for him at the end of the car, hands shoved in the pockets of his black jeans. He hadn't even thought to dress up, only wearing jeans, a purple button-up, and a disgustingly unfashionable jean jacket.

Or a Jacket as the teens would say these days. Oh wait. It doesn't really work when the word starts with a J already. Anyway.

"They're gonna meet us in the foyer," Jack announced before glaring at a happy couple who passed by. Guy couldn't stand to see other people be happy and mind their own business, apparently. 

Dakotah just nodded and they walked into the library. He held the door open for Jack out of courtesy. No 'thank you', but Dakotah didn't expect much anyway. As Jack had said, the other two club members met them in the rather quiet foyer. Voices from the small convention drifted out from a room to the right, presumably some sort of event room the establishment had to avoid any events from disrupting the quiet library part 

"Glad you came!" Courtney chirped in a respectfully quiet, but cheerful voice.

It was like nothing had changed with him. Dakotah found it a bit unnerving, but he didn't say anything.

"Let's go in," Hugo said eagerly. 

Dakotah could tell he was itching to dig into the nerd shit that was bound to be in the convention. The group followed him in as he excitedly scurried along. People cleared the way for him, presumably more out of fear of being trampled rather than respect. 

As they entered, Dakotah was hit with a wave of warmth. The chatter was much louder and there was music playing quietly under it all. Around the perimeter of the room booths were set up for vendors. One area had a cluster of tables and chairs while on the far side two tables with modest lines were set up. 

Hugo immediately dove right the fuck in. Courtney followed close behind him and then Dakotah and Jack trailed behind them. He wasn't much for conventions or buying the little knick knacks or gushing of similar interest. He had grown out of that sort of stuff ages ago. Dakotah, nor Jack, hid their lack of enthusiasm.

"You don’t have to follow me, you can go look where you want to,” Hugo said after the group followed him to several booths. It was clear he was directing it to Jack and Dakotah, though.

“I want to stay close, for when you’re ready to do the interview,” Dakotah said and Jack grunted in what was presumably agreement.

Hugo suddenly looked excited, his concern quickly forgotten as he remembered the reason why they were here in the first place. “Ah, good point,” He said before focusing back on whatever goofy merchandise he had been scrutinizing before.

Dakotah was sure to give him a bit more space after that, as to not bare down on the guy. Which was probably impossible since he had to be 6 and a half feet tall. He may not enjoy the subject matter, but it was clear Hugo was rather happy. Courtney was uncharacteristically quiet, however. He still looked cheerful and his voice remained high and airy, but he wasn’t as talkative. No doubt the death of his grandmother still weighed on him.

“The original will always be the best,” Jack commented, taking Dakotah out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” He asked. He looked up and saw that the table they stood at now had various posters with knives and hockey masks and Friday the 13th printed across them, “You like these movies?”

“They’re classics, everyone’s seen them,” Jack dismissed.

“I haven’t,” Dakotah said.

Jack immediately looked pissed and on guard, a common expression for him, it seemed. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, not unlike a petulant child, “Why are you making a big deal over it?”

“I’m not making a ‘big deal’ over it,” Dakotah said. His voice rising in annoyance as well, “It’s okay to be interested in things, Jack.”

Jack didn’t say anything and instead ignored him. Geeze, this guy was a lot of work. Always trying to fight about something. They didn’t make much conversation after that and gradually made their way down the line until they were at the tables for the two authors. One person had a small line while the other was idly fiddling with the stacks of pamphlets and fliers on her table. 

“What the fuck?” Jack whispered.

Dakotah gave him a raised brow, prompting Jack to point at one of the books propped up on her table. Werewolf Pirate Love. The head of a wolf over a stormy sea with an 18th century ship being tossed about made up the cover.

“Oh,” Is all Dakotah could say.

Hugo eagerly approached the small-time author, who politely smiled at the group.

“Hey- I love your work. I’m a part of South Central Community College’s Journalism Club and was hoping you had some time for an interview,” Hugo said, the words tumbling out a bit too fast as he let his excitement overtake him.

Seconds later the group had been ushered behind the table, squeezing together in the small space. They all loomed behind Hugo, not unlike a gang ready to kneecap someone. Give us the wolf smut or else, ma’am. You’ll find out what the knife’s for soon enough if you don’t fess up. Dakotah was getting really bored.

Hugo pulled out a small notepad and a dingy pencil, poised and ready to write down what golden knowledge he was about to receive. He opened his mouth to ask the first question, but was interrupted by Dakotah.

“Do you mind if we record this interview, Ma’am?” He asked.

Hugo, who had been too eager to get to the goods, nodded and dug in his pockets for his phone.

“I don’t mind at all,” She said.

The questions weren’t anything special. The usual ‘favorite book’ and ‘biggest challenge’. He was a bit tense at first, but as Hugo got into the swing of things he loosened up and held a more conversational interview with the woman. Thankfully it didn’t last too long. Hugo was running out of questions, though it seemed he was hesitant to stop talking to the author, even if she was rather obscure.

“Okay, final question,” Hugo said before a gigantic, goofy smile spread across his face, “I loved the romance between Romeo and Roman in Werewolf Pirate Love. Do you plan on having future romance in your novels, or even exploring the romance genre in general?”

Dakotah pinched the bridge of his nose and Jack groaned. This man was embarrassing.

The woman smiled and gave him a sly shrug, “We’ll have to see.”

The group decided to wait in the seating area afterwards. The second author was on a break and told them to come back 20 minutes later. Hugo was happy to visit the rest of the booths, but they still had a few minutes to spare after that. Dakotah had grabbed them some of the free waters they were offering, a blessing because of how hot and crowded the room was starting to feel. 

“What’s the other lady’s name again?” Dakotah asked. It wasn’t his interview, but Mister Harlow had suggested they use the other members’ events to still practice their writing skills. 

“Her pen name is Pearl Stormy,” Hugo answered

Dakotah nodded and went to take a sip from his water.

“Sounds like a porn star name,” Jack commented.

Dakotah snorted. He inhaled his water. Then he started coughing, thankfully not spilling water over himself in the process. Hugo and Jack immediately started laughing, Jack being gracious enough to smack him on the back a few times. The moment made Dakotah realize something, though.

“Where’d Courtney go?” He asked, voice still a bit strained.

Hugo looked to the empty seat next to himself then shrugged, “Bathroom, I guess.”

Dakotah nodded, wiping away the droplets of water that had landed on the table with his sleeve. Jack caught Dakotah's arm and he was ready to beat the fuck out of him before Jack twisted his wrist around to peer at his watch.

“Time’s up, go interview your lady,” He said before letting him go and standing.

Hugo and Dakotah followed suit, but Dakotah paused. Courtney had really just slipped away without a word. Hugo seemed too excited to meet his semi-famous author to care, and he knew Jack wasn’t going to care about anyone but himself. Dakotah held back a sigh. He guessed it was his job the give a fuck, then.

“I’m going to find Courtney,” Dakotah said, “In case he wants in on the interview.”

“Yup,” is all Jack said before the two headed off to the table.

[manycoloureddays]

29. Robin/Nancy - I know you write the ot3 for st but I need some lesbians!!!

I’m always happy to write some lesbians, thanks anon!! Sorry these are taking so long, but I swear all the prompts will be filled!

‘And you know what else is really fucking infuriating?’ Robin tries to punctuate her words with a jab to Steve’s chest, but he’s still holding her wrist, checking for a break she already knows isn’t there. 

They’re in the Wheeler’s bathroom, Robin up on the sink, Steve moving back and forth between her and the medicine cabinet, looking calmer with every scrape he wipes clean and band-aid he applies. They’ve both had worse injuries, but it never stops him from worrying.

Mostly her arm just fucking hurts. Less because of the monster that’s chosen to fuck with them this week, and more because when she had started towards it’s left flank where it was clearly injured, weak, Nancy had yanked her back, darted in herself, made the kill and had the talon scratches on her ribs to prove it. 

And while Nancy took care of herself, only letting Mike close enough to help her clean the wound, Robin got Steve Harrington’s Specialty Bathroom Medical Treatment. 

The idiot had tagged along to a first aid training day with Hopper at the end of last summer and thought he had a medical degree. 

‘Tell me,’ Steve prompts, ‘what’s really fucking infuriating?’ Because despite her current complaints he’s actually a fantastic friend. Annoying and ridiculous and a complete dumbass, but a genuinely good friend. Her best friend.

‘I am older than all of you were when you started fighting monsters. You were seventeen, Dustin was twelve. The kids were twelve, Steve! And I’ve been doing this for a year now. I think I know what I’m doing.’ 

She can hear petulance leaking into her voice and stops talking. 

The thing is, Robin gets it, okay. She gets it. She is the newest person on the inside of Hawkins batshit supernatural underworld, and the others, including the six fifteen year olds, feel the need to make sure she doesn’t get herself killed. It would be nice to have so many people watching her back, standing beside her unequivocally, if it didn’t come with a side order of because we don’t trust you not to die if we leave you alone for five goddamn minutes. 

In the last year Robin has been tied up by Russians, drugged with truth serum, come out to Steve Harrington on the floor of a toilet cubicle, met multiple monsters from the Upside Down, learned what the fuck the Upside Down was, got her second job after her first job blew up, accidentally come out to a bunch of kids, been forced into more discussions about Dungeons & Dragons than she cares to remember, fought some more monsters including a Kelpie that nearly killed her and also something that was maybe a griffin that kidnapped Nancy Wheeler, argued with Dustin about the possible existence of the Mothman and Bigfoot, put in more hours researching things that should not logically exist than Steve ever put into study for school, actually learned Russian because she couldn’t get it out of her head, and still they don’t trust her. 

Steve reads her mind. She kind of hates that he can do that now. 

‘It isn’t that she doesn’t trust you, you know.’ He says it quiet, the way he always talks about Nancy. Eyes downcast, rueful little smile. 

Robin groans. Turns out, whether Hawkins weird energy has made Steve psychic or Robin is just really that obvious, he knows her better than she knows herself. 

‘This isn’t about her. Everyone does it. We’d only known each other for a few weeks and you took a beating to save me.’

Steve scans her face a final time and, deciding by the arbitrary measure of the not clinically trained, pronounces her properly first aided. Then he shrugs. ‘It wasn’t just for you. Dustin and Erica were there too.’ Like taking a beating for any of them was nothing. Like coming out of it bloody and bruised and definitely concussed was a mark of simple friendship. 

‘Steve,’ she says, and it comes out more like a whine. Steeeeve. She kicks her heels against the sink.

He sighs. Hands on his hips in what Max and Mike have taken to calling his Mom Pose. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say, Robin? If this is about, I don’t know, us trusting you to have our backs? You don’t have to worry about that.’

He says it so gently and he looks so uncomfortable that Robin believes him. 

‘I trust you with their lives all the time.’ 

He means the kids, but he also probably means the others too. Jonathan, Joyce, Hopper, Nancy. And now she’s had some space, has licked her wounds, and, for now at least, acknowledged that her pride might need to be buried, Robin can see that he does. 

‘And those kids don’t ever back down from a fight, but if they let you join them in one? That’s trust too.’

Steve starts packing away Mrs Wheeler’s first aid stuff, throwing out all the bloody cotton balls and attempting to wipe down the sink with Robin still mostly in it. ‘For the rest of it though. You need to put on your big girl pants and talk to her.’

Her stomach does the stupid flippy thing it’s taken to doing any time she thinks about talking to Nancy, and then her heart does the follow up guilty feeling right after. The guilty feeling sounds a little like Steeeeve. 

Nancy is. A lot of things. But Steve is important. He’s her best friend. 

Steve stops what he’s doing, steps into her space again, and for the first time since he started patching her up he looks her in the eye for more than half a second. He’s smiling, small but there. He grips her shoulder, pulls her in close until their foreheads are almost touching, then leans closer and presses a kiss above the bruise near her hairline. 

‘I love you, dingus. Both of you. You think I don’t want you to be happy?’ 

‘That’s my line,’ she sniffles. Dropping her head to his shoulder, she slings her arms around his middle, and holds on. ‘Dingus.’

*

When they make it back to the kitchen Mike and Nancy are sniping back and forth in the way, Robin has come to learn, means they are both in a good mood and violently caring at one another. It’s a weird sibling thing that she doesn’t think she’ll ever fully understand, but then Steve shoulders her out of the way so he can get to the fridge first and she thinks maybe she does. 

‘For god’s …’ Nancy mutters darkly. ‘Where the fuck are they keeping the platters now?’

Mike rolls his eyes and picks his sister up to move her out of the way. Nancy let’s out an undignified squeak, shoving at him when he drops her unceremoniously. 

‘They’re up here,’ Mike reaches them down off a shelf so high that he’s surely the only person who lives here who can actually reach it. ‘Shit doesn’t stay in the same place when you move halfway across the country, you know that right?’

Nancy huffs. ‘I did not move halfway across the country. I drove halfway across the country and then I drove some more, and then I came back, because for some reason everything supernatural seems to be centred on Hawkins and I want to know why!’

Robin watches, fascinated, as Nancy works herself up into one of her lectures. She stalks up and down the kitchen, turning randomly to open cupboards and drawers, shutting them without getting anything out. 

She’s talking about the ripple effect from the gate. Each time it opened the ripples travelled a little bit further, until it was sending out a beacon across the country. There’s the little furrow in her brow, just a tiny dent that Robin sometimes daydreams about smoothing out. 

‘And no one knows what the side effects could be, or if we could stop it permanently.’

Robin’s heard all this before. Knows why Nancy felt like she couldn’t go away to college just yet. Knows that Nancy chose to defer one of her many offers in favour of a solo, cross country, monster hunting, information gathering road trip. 

Mike rolls his eyes, and Steve mentions something about ordering a couple of pizzas, and Lucas and Dustin come in with empty bowls and leave with arms full of snacks, and Mrs Wheeler rings to let her children know that she and Ted are fine thank you and at her mother’s place and there’s dinner ready for heating up in the fridge, and Robin’s eyes never leave Nancy as she paces up and down the kitchen, hands flying, still lecturing. 

She slows down after almost fifteen minutes and notices, finally, that Robin is the only one left in the kitchen with her. 

‘Uh,’ Robin starts, awkward now that the room isn’t full of Nancy’s voice, and there’s no buffer. Now that all that focus has been bottled back up and directed at her. 

Nancy heaves a sigh, shrugs, and then sort of half-smiles. ‘He hasn’t stayed put long enough to hear me finish talking since he was nine. Maybe ten?’ She laughs. She sounds a little embarrassed. ‘Sorry about that. I, um, I’m not very good at stopping once I get started.’ 

‘That’s fine.’ Robin knows how inane that sounds, but she seems to have misplaced most of her vocabulary this evening. She could listen to Nancy all night. ‘That’s, uh, I get that.’

Nancy nods. Her eyes shift over the kitchen like she’s looking for something to focus on that isn’t Robin. 

Robin can hear her own heartbeat in her ear, knows her face must be bright red. She has managed not to wind up alone with Nancy too many times when she’s back in Hawkins, because it always ends like this. Both of them too quiet, Robin too aware of everything she is and is not doing. Being around Nancy is exhausting. 

Then Nancy whips back around to face her, and she doesn’t have much room in her head for thinking. Because she has never seen that look head on before. She’s caught it in her periphery, from an angle, when one of the others has been hurt or upset, but Nancy is looking her dead in the eye and she is Worried. 

‘Robin, I’m so sorry. I got completely sidetracked. Are you okay?’ 

Robin nods. 

Nancy walks over to her, hands not quite touching the cuts and bruises on her face. She is so close, and Robin can see where she’s been biting her bottom lip, can see every freckle, every scar. 

She has never seen Nancy like this, up close. 

She’s seen Nancy Wheeler load a shotgun. She’s seen her shoot one. She’s seen Nancy Wheeler with her hair loose and sweat-damp, the opposite of prissy and put together. Nancy Wheeler, eyes cold and shoulders straight, standing steady between the people she loves and all the world’s darkness and never flinching. Nancy Wheeler with singed hair and a gash across her forehead and an unconscious dragon at her feet. Nancy Wheeler curled in on herself on Steve’s front porch, sobbing into his shoulder on the anniversary of Barb Holland’s disappearance. Nancy Wheeler smirking as her brother stumbles through explaining why there are two girls asleep in the basement without Mrs Wheeler’s permission. Smiling fondly at him later, when he’s not looking. 

Robin has never seen her like this. 

‘Steve patched you up okay?’ Nancy whispers. 

Robin nods again. 

‘Anything hurting? I’m sure we have painkillers around here somewhere, unless Mom’s moved those too.’

She looks like she’s really considering stepping back and away and out of Robin’s space, and Robin really doesn’t want that, so she shakes her head. Manages to get some words out of her mouth, and puts her foot in it. ‘No, really, I’m okay. My arm’s a little sore, but I’ll be fine.’

‘Your arm?’ Nancy asks, reaching forward. Robin lifts her right arm, and Nancy goes through the same motions as Steve, checking for a break. She holds Robin just as gently. Robin hopes Nancy doesn’t notice the way her hair stands on end, the goosebumps that run up her arm at Nancy’s touch. ‘I didn’t see it touch your arm …’

Robin, who has been watching Nancy’s face for minutes now, sees exactly when it clicks. She goes white as a sheet. 

‘Oh. Oh, shit. Shit, Robin, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’ She lets go of Robin’s arm, reaches out to touch it again. She can’t seem to decide what would be more welcome, more comforting. ‘I just wanted to. God. I’m so sorry.’

‘Nancy,’ Robin says, reaching out and taking her hand. She had thought she would put it back on her arm, let Nancy know she wasn’t hurt too badly, that she trusted her, but Nancy presses their hands together, palm to palm. Robin can’t take her eyes off Nancy’s face, and Nancy can’t seem to take her eyes off Robin’s palm. 

She takes a breath, watches Nancy do the same, and then threads their fingers together. 

‘Really. I’m okay.’

Nancy looks unsettled still, when she manages to look away from their hands and finally, finally, back at Robin. ‘I know I don’t know you that well. Not as well as the others. But give me some credit, please. You were furious with me earlier.’

Ugh, she thinks. I hate it when Steve’s right. 

‘I was. But I’m not now. And it wasn’t about my arm, not really. It wasn’t about what you did, it was about why you did it. Or why I thought you did it.’

‘Why did you think I did it?’ Nancy says, voice steadier than Robin’s, because even when she’s unsettled she so goddamn brave. 

Robin shrugs. ‘I figured you didn’t trust that I could do it. That I could kill it on my own. Which, hey, I get it. Your brother was there. If I had a brother, I’d probably want to —’

But Nancy is shaking her head. ‘I want to say Mike can handle himself, because he’s still alive after this long, but really Mike can kind of handle himself and when he can’t he has El and the others when I’m not around. I’m not worried about Mike.’

‘But you are worried about me.’ She hates the way her voice sounds, flat and miserable. She still doesn’t let go of Nancy’s hand though, which is probably way more telling than she’d like it to be. 

‘Yes.’ Matter of fact. Just yes. Nancy worries about Robin’s ability to handle herself. ‘But not in the way you’re thinking.’ Huh? ‘I know you can kill monsters Robin. I’ve seen you do it. And I might spend a lot of time on the road, but I do call home. Steve keeps me up to date. I just,’ she fades off, looking frustrated. 

Another new Nancy Wheeler: speechless. 

She uses the hand not currently wrapped around Robin’s to scrub her face. Smiles up at Robin apologetically, because steeling herself. 

‘I just want to protect you. Not because I have to, but because I don’t like seeing you hurt. Which is stupid, I know, because if I go charging in you could still end up hurt. Because if I pull you out of the way I can clearly hurt you. And I am so, so sorry about that, Robin. Really, I am. But I can’t help feeling like I should always be standing in front of you. Which, again, stupid. Because you are taller than me, and I can’t cover you if I can’t see you.’ She pauses, briefly, to take a breath, but even if Robin had the words to cut in, she takes off talking again at top speed. ‘I don’t just want to protect you though. I want to. I want to hold you hand. I want. I don’t know, but I want it. And I think, sometimes, when you look at me that you want it too. And if you do. Want it. I want you to have it.’ Nancy nods to herself. Like she’s finally found the right combination of words. ‘I want you safe and happy. I want you to have it.’ 

There’s near silence in the kitchen, aside from the humming of the fridge and the steady ticking of the clock, and the too loud beating of Robin’s own heart, still in her ears. But before Nancy can break the silence with the words that Robin can see building in her already, Robin leans down and kisses her. 

Kissing Nancy Wheeler might just be her favourite Nancy Wheeler yet. 

Nancy sighs into Robin’s mouth, presses in closer and harder. She’s all angles, and so small Robin thinks if she didn’t know her like she does she might worry about breaking her. But Nancy Wheeler is made of stronger things than most. 

She pushes up onto her tiptoes, winds her hands around Robin’s neck, and Robin’s own hands grip Nancy’s waist. She holds on. Moans when Nancy’s tongue touches hers, when one of Nancy’s hands finds its way down her arm to her side and then up under her t-shirt. 

They kiss, wet and hot and more than Robin was ever expecting. She knows what Nancy means. She wants. 

Nancy lifts herself up onto the counter, and Robin steps back in close, between her legs. She pulls away from Nancy’s mouth, ignoring the way she pouts, so she can kiss Nancy’s neck, suck a bruise into her skin. She has no idea what she is doing, her hands feel awkward, settling wherever is closest, but she does not want to stop. Nancy makes the best sound Robin has ever heard, crosses her legs behind Robin’s back and tugs her closer still. 

Robin kisses her way back up to Nancy’s mouth, presses an almost shy kiss to her lips, buries her face in Nancy’s shoulder and sighs. ‘Holy shit.’

Nancy giggles. Twists her fingers in Robin’s hair. ‘Yeah.’ She giggles again. ‘Holy shit.’

*

They’re a pretty good team after that. Well, after they talk about it a little more. Nancy still wants to stand between Robin and danger, but Robin manages to convince her that standing shoulder to shoulder is actually better because then she can have her eyes on Robin the entire time. 

‘This is supposed to be a big one. As big as that dragon,’ Nancy is saying as they walk through the woods. She has her shotgun and Robin has Steve’s bat, with strict instructions to bring it back in one piece. Dustin’s instructions, not Steve’s. The kid has a thing about it being Steve’s bat. 

‘We’ve handled worse.’

Nancy grins at her. 

They reach the fork in the path that Hopper had mentioned, where Nancy is going to go left and Robin is going to go right, so they can outflank it from this side of its den, while Steve and Hopper do it from the other. Robin lets go of Nancy’s hand. 

‘Kiss for luck?’ 

Robin bends down. She’ll never say no to that, and Nancy knows it. It’s brief, because they have a monster waiting for them in the dark, but it’s fine, because once they’ve killed it they’ll have all the time in the world.

[empathicstars]

Nothing More Important

  It’d been a long, grueling, impossible fifty hours. Longer and more grueling and more impossible, believably, than Neoma’d expected it to be. After all, how difficult was it to find a singular officer in a world where identification was required for everything one did?

  Apparently, difficult. She’d been awake and running around the base since 2100 hours on, uh... --... how many days ago was it? One, two? It was hard to keep track. All Neoma could remember any longer was the pounding of her feet on pavement, of the crisp air that felt drier and drier the longer she was out in it, of the feeling of brick beneath her fingers and metal against her arms as she climbed and scaled the impressive base in search. The teams by her side had switched off five separate times, and more than once someone had attempted to relieve her.

  But she’d made a promise. She told them she’d bring her back.

  And she would.

  Doctors marveled at how she was passing each examination they ran on her in attempts to force her to take her leave. She didn’t seem to be tired, and any scrapes or bruises were beyond minor. What she’d told Jim just before he drifted to sleep was true: she didn’t get sore. But that didn’t mean that spending fifty hours wide awake, soothing every officer she came into contact with, and walking the length of one of the Federation’s biggest bases multiple times over was enjoyable or restful for her. ( That didn’t mean that part of her wasn’t still shaking from an encounter with a limp body in a river, that her disagreements with all of those close to her wasn’t burning a coldness somewhere hard in the back of her throat. )

  Ah, Jim… Fuck. When he learned about this disaster, she was sure he’d staunchly refuse to ever sleep again. And after all her hard work. Ancestors. It felt like all of her effort with everyone was coming up to nothing, now. Encouraging Reg out of his shell, building and mending a relationship with John, her friendship with Luci, Jim… ancestors, she was tired.

  Part of her wondered, briefly, if she could convince Spock to keep all of this on the down low from him -- especially now that it was over. But she didn’t have to know him very well at all to know that that wasn’t an option.

  But at least it was over. At least it wasn’t like waking up on Corvid.

  At least this was a nightmare that would end.

  After checking every Federation and non-Federation ship, the Institute, all of Yorktown… after climbing every building, sliding under every tree, dipping herself deep into water and barging in through every library… Neoma had decided, on a whim, to check for Liana on incoming ships, and was rather floored when it worked. An Aella -- not Liana -- Moore was on a non-Federation supply ship, heading back to Yorktown, and Neoma was going to be there when she docked. It only took a few calls to the captain of that ship to put together the pieces. Liana’d beamed on from a civilian transporter, rather than a Starfleet-specific one -- a transporter that dealt with such a large volume of use that it had no choice but to delete profiles of those who passed through it -- to his ship. She’d been on the base and had been trying to find another ship to lead her elsewhere. It was only a half a day, it seemed, before she’d buckled internally, admitted to him that she’d snuck aboard his ship before shields went up, and requested to take the next return trip with him. He’d agreed, and now she was less than twenty minutes from docking.

  And so, here Neoma stood. Waiting for her. In a bustle of laughing, chattering people, moving swiftly and gleefully throughout a shuttle bay. Her pole collapsed at the magnetic belt on her side, her arms crossed, her hair pulled back into a fishtail braid that she thought maybe looked alright whenever she’d done it. She tugged at the tie to let it free from its mess, let her hair fall around her, catch briefly in the wind.

  For a moment, it was almost too easy to believe that Liana wouldn’t show up, after all. That the information had been a farce. That she’d reported Liana’s recovery prematurely, and she’d have to resume activities again. That this was a break, and not the end.

  But relief touched some distant part of her when she spotted a thin figure walking through the crowds. Dressed in a long white dress, a single book clutched to her chest, as though it’d protect her from the reality she was about to face. Ancestors, Liana looked about as shitty as Neoma felt. Black hollows beneath her eyes, pale, paper-thin skin, body bent in on itself. She stared at the floor with the same guilty expression Meeth wore when he knew he’d done something wrong.

  The same expression her girls had had…

  Neoma breathed out. Released the fifty hours that’d passed -- released the memory of Amila and Naith pouting -- and focused on the start of this hour, focused on the face of this girl.  

  The security officer reached out, palm up, and waited until the kid’d walked to her side to drape her arm around her shoulders. She felt Liana stiffen beneath the contact of the half-hug, but Neoma still leaned forward to distribute a kiss in her hair.

  “Welcome back, Liana.”

  Liana’s head tilted up so painfully slowly -- and when their eyes met, everything in the kid’s face was open, childish, shocked. She was round, and gentle, and small, and… Ancestors, she looked like she was about eleven years old. “H… i.”

  Neoma squeezed her with one arm. “You really gave us a fright, you know.”

  “I… I did?”

  The confusion would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Maybe still would’ve been if Neoma hadn’t spent the better part of these past few days fighting that fright.

  She smiled, instead of answering -- tapped her with her thumb and began leading her away from the ships. “Where were you off to?” Conversational. Light.

 Liana stared back down, once again. Felt a little bit closer to Neoma than she had moments before. “I don’t…” Nearly choked. “I do not know. Just… away. As far away as possible.”

  “Well,” with humor in her teeth, “you know, if you want to go far away, the Enterprise is a great place to do it.”

  Liana’s lips flattened, and she ducked her head further, but it somehow read almost as a small smile might.

  They walked for a bit in silence, and, wow -- how good silence could sound. How good walking could feel! But what sounded even better, y’know, was conversation. Especially conversation that mattered. So…

  “I hear you don’t want to be a Betazoid. You don’t want to be an empath. That right?”

  She jolted, as though something horrific had been found out. “Y… yes.”

  “Why not?”

  The sounds of the crowd from the bay were beginning to disperse. It made her pause sound even louder. “I… I want to be normal. I want to be… like everyone else.”

  Ha. “You are like everyone else.”

  “No.” Her voice was dark, steady, so suddenly it was surprising. It was too much like the Aella Neoma’d met one time in a communications bay. “I am apart from them, and they from me.”

  “Apart?” Neoma’d never been fantastic at clamping at her humor -- and now was no exception. A hard laugh, rough and grainy and loud erupted from her.

  “W-- what is so funny?” Ah, there she was, again -- the petulant child annoyed with the humor she didn’t understand. ( So much like Amila. So much it burned. ) “That is not funny.”  

  “Ha… you really have no idea, huh?”

  “Of course I do not. That -- that is why I asked.”

  “No, no… I meant…” Okay. Stop smiling. Serious Neoma time. “Everyone’s been in a frenzy looking for you. Spock, Reg, John. Casper. ’Ve had to tie almost all of them back from going out to look for you.”

  “What? No -- no, you are -- you are lying.”

  “What’s the point in lying, Liana? Already got you here.”

  She paused. Perhaps, Neoma supposed, to consider that maybe it was true. “R… really?”

  “Really really. Do you know how many times I had to wrangle Spock into submission?”

  “The -- the commander?”

  “Unless there’s two of ‘em.”

  “But -- no! W… why would he…? No. He… he must be like this with everyone.”

  Neoma was able to temper her amusement back to a chuckle, this time. “Nah. He told me you two were close.”

  “What?” She was watching her, now.

  “Yup. He gave me a lot of invaluable information about where to look for you, too. I don’t think any of them’s gotten a lick of sleep since your disappearing act.”

  “I… oh, I…” Her shock fell into something else. Something small and sad, plain enough for even Neoma to get. “I did not mean to worry them. I did not know they would realize my absence. I -- I just wanted… to be free.”

  Free, huh? Neoma sighed -- probably came out more like a huff. Either way, the noise was low, rueful. She didn’t get it. Ties were the best part of life. Hadn’t she just said something like that in the comms a few days ago? Having a spot to call your own, and a sky you knew… that was precious. But…

  “Well, my girls wanted to see the stars. They wanted to be free so, so bad. But you don’t have to run away to see the stars. You’re… already in Starfleet.”

  “But I…” A frustrated breath from her. “I do not want to be.”

  “Why not?”

  “I… I do not like it! It is scary, and dangerous. I do not want to live on a ship. I… I do not want to be what she was.”

  “Ancestors, kid.” It came out before she could stop it. That she was so vehemently said. “She who?”

  Liana’s voice fell low, quiet and stripped and now anything but the acid she’d once tasted. “Aella.”

  Oh. Fuck. Well, okay. “Why are you separating them?”

  “What?”

  “You and her. Who you were and who you are. You’re the same people.”

  “N-- no! No!”

  Another one? Really? “Sorry, but… yeah.” Neoma recognized the wiggling -- like an animal wanting to be put down -- and so she stopped, turned to face her. Wherever they were now, it was quieter. Less clattering, less people. Neoma pressed both her palms into Liana’s shoulders, watched her shrink, slightly. “Listen to me.” She waited until her gaze lifted, even if was only minute at first. “I used to live beneath a volcano. I’d sleep with a burlap sack over my face, and wake to watch the guar. I hadn’t been ten miles from where I lived. I hated fighting. I just wanted to watch my guar in peace. Fabric like this…” She rubbed at Liana’s shoulders. “I’d never even seen it before. It was a whole different world. And now look at me. I’m a security officer out in space. Lightyears away from where I raised those guar. On ground that isn’t really ground. On a planet that’s not really a planet. Using technology, every day, when the most expensive thing I used to own was… I don’t know. Maybe my staff. And if you’d asked me then where I’d be now… I’d never see it. I’d never see this.”

  “Then how did you get here?” By now, Liana was staring at her. Her eyes were large, glassy, fixed. Neoma felt the weight of her attention keyed into every single word. “Why are you here?”

  “Things changed. Lot of things changed. And I got new perspective. And... I guess that’s what happened to you, too. No, you don’t know why you’d want to live on a ship, or be in Starfleet. No, it doesn’t make sense to you. But you don’t remember the perspective that made you want to be here. So of course you’re confused. Of course you’re lost. But what… what if you could rediscover that perspective? What if you could learn more about yourself?”

  The eyes staring back at her were brimming with tears, now. She opened her mouth twice -- two false-starts -- before she found her voice.

  “I… I am scared something would happen to me. To who I am. John tells me he has a Haliaan waiting to heal me… but I do not believe it will heal me. I believe it will kill me.”

  “Kill you?”

  “Who I am…” Her palm raised from her side, and she stared at it, pressed fingertips against it. “I will be gone. Another person will take her place.”

  “No. Hey, look at me. No. Same person. Just new perspective. Okay? And it’s not gonna be like a…” She lifted a hand, only for as long as it took her to snap. “... you know? You may get the perspective and decide… hey. I still want to go to the Institute. I still want to leave Starfleet. And then you can. But then you’ll know, too. And something like sensing someone’s emotions won’t set you off so much that you disappear.”

  Eyelashes fluttered, and a tear fell to Liana’s cheek. Neoma moved to wipe at it with the back of her hand. The kid’s eyes shuddered closed from the contact.

  “I’m not gonna make you stay in Starfleet, okay? It’s your life. But… if you’re going to leave, I’m gonna make you say goodbye.”

  It was supposed to sound almost jesting, that last sentence, but… Liana wasn’t opening her eyes. Wasn’t relaxing again. Fuck. Neoma’d not fucked up, had she?

  Neoma was grasping at new words to throw Liana’s way when she spoke again, in a voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the nothing around them.

  “They… really missed me? They really… worried about me?”

  “Really, really.”

  Liana’s lips thinned, and she stared down at her hand again. Edged a foot a bit against the ground. “Then… then I should at least try. For them.” Tentatively… “After all… there… is nothing more important than family, yes?”

  When Neoma laughed this time, she felt it -- felt the joy, the relief, the end of a nightmare. And this time, when she pulled Liana into a hug, she felt a warmth in her belly that would’ve made it nearly impossible not to.

  “That’s exactly right, kiddo.”

[prorevenge]

Psycho Ex gets my egoless revenge with a side of heavy-duty karma.

The following story occurred over the course of 13-8 years ago, and I apologize preemptively for the length, because it is a bit involved.

I was in a relationship for 9 years with a girl I met in college. We broke up on the cusp of my 29th birthday. While breakups and divorce are never trauma-free, this one was as close to that as I believe is humanly possible to get, there were no fights and minimal drama, and I moved to a new city to get a fresh start and be nearer my dad/stepmom/half sisters, as I'm close to them and it was nice to have family during this. Get an apartment, start over, everything's good. Then I meet "her."

Things with her seemed good at first. She was the polar opposite of my ex. She's quiet yet nice, had her life relatively together (my first wife was very unfocused and horrible with money), physically a complete contrast, wild in the bedroom--I thought I had hit the jackpot.

Anyhoo, I fall for her hard. We have a whirlwind romance, move in shortly, and we have this glamorous life where we make good money (she was a corporate accountant, I had a decent small business, we're pulling in 150K+ combined), renting a luxury apartment, one car paid and the other brand new, no kids. Things are great, except that we drink too much together and some other underlying issues I'm blind to at the time. We get soused one night and drive to Vegas, and get married on the strip after 6 months of dating and 9 of knowing each other. The ink is barely dry on my divorce papers from version 1.0, but no matter, I'm in love. My family likes her overall. Her family loves me. We adopt cats. We talk about trying to have a kid.

We upgrade our life and take on more debt, just as the housing bubble bursts and the economy tanks, she loses a couple jobs due to her inability to show up on Mondays, and I start losing clients as the ones I have start cutting their advertising budget (my field). Things start to get pinched, and she first starts complaining, then gets petulant, because now we can't spend the way we used to, the quarterly mini-vacations dry up, plus we're cooking at home instead of going out to eat 4x a week. We basically stop having sex a little more than a year into the relationship (didn't realize it then, because I was dumb and love-blind, but she cheated on me during this period).seRealizing what we're up against with our normal bills plus our credit cards, I go out and get a job bartending at a posh resort, the only other real skill I have at the time that's marketable. I get two other part time gigs to help make ends meet. She still complains, and throws me an ultimatum before I even start getting paychecks, laying the blame at my feet. I say fine, screw this then. Had we stuck it out even a few more months, things would have started to turn a financial corner. Instead, she goes full two-faced, mean-spirited bitch on me. The night we first fight, she "attempts suicide" by scratching her wrist with a leatherman, then calls 911, gets admitted to the hospital (I arrive home to cops telling me this), and has the security guard toss me when I show up to see if she's okay because she doesn't want to talk to me. I use the quotes because there was a small collection of firearms nearby I bought for her target shooting hobby which were untouched, so it was obviously just a ploy for attention.

We basically fight for the next week, I give her everything she wants, which includes leaving the house, signing over my new truck to her, and only taking stuff I brought into the relationship, basically enough to fill a small storage space. She's financially pinched so I sell my office furniture for cash and don't even touch the bank account, just take my biz money and one CC I got separate from her. I go to the Bay Area for a few months, financially struggle, don't get the job I was sure was on lock. During this time, I have this revelation one evening--I drink too much and that it's caused a load of problems in my life, so I quit, and I haven't touched a drop since.

Broke and realizing nothing I try is working, I come back to town, live with my dad for a month, find a roommate, then a shit retail job (my business has dropped from 7-8K per month at its height to now around 500/mo), I bike everywhere bc I can't afford a car, and my credit is toast partially due to her love of spending on plastic, so I'm facing bankruptcy. I'm 31, and this is really humbling, but whatever, I'm alive, have dealt with hardship before, this won't last forever. She has kept her house, declared personal BK on her debts, keeps her car, and has been dating a series of men starting a couple weeks after we split. While I never asked the details, apparently she's also reached out to a few of my friends and badmouthed me a bit. This would be mildly annoying, but add in two factors--she's dragging her feet on the divorce due to not having money to file, keeps up contact on the pretense of us needing to talk, but plays emotionally manipulative head games during the whole sequence ("I've realized I still love you, that's why you can make me cry so easily," and other bullshit Hallmark movie lines like this). Also, we live in a suburb that's smaller and tightly knit, so multiple places I go to like my church, the bookstore I frequent, and the coffee shop right by my place, she talks endless shit to people. Says I was a cheater and physically/emotionally abusive (complete crap, but whatever), I'm stalking her, I supposedly stole tens of thousands of dollars from her, the whole nine. Some people actually believe her, I even get threatened by a wannabe biker one night that's literally twice my age with violence, itself a funny story but not the point.

Finally, after some more bullshit and back and forth, she leaves town (more falsehoods around this, including her borrowing a bit of money she didn't end up paying back, and sticking me with a massive overage on our cell bill right before we split the account). My dumb, trusting heart hurts but I'm mostly relieved to see the last of her, realizing she's only nice to me when she wants something. She goes to NY to shack up with another guy, gets pregnant 15 minutes later. Finally sends me divorce paperwork. I sign it and send back quickly, all notarized docs, everything organized and flagged. She attempts to be "friends" and I want no part of this BS. I'm businesslike, she gets upset. She screws up filing, blames me. I say "whatever," straighten out the court issues. One week after the divorce is finalized, the kid is born. No word from her after that for two years, thank god. I get a new career, start advancing in it, and start dating a new woman that I'm still with 10 years later. Weirdly enough, they knew each other, and she didn't like her, partially because one of my ex's infidelity partners was her ex-husband, during a time they were exploring patching things up for the kids' sake (though there were multiple reasons for her distrust, apparently she always gave my wife an icky intuitive feeling).

So flash forward two years. I get a call from my current squeeze. She's just talked to a friend who was also a very brief roomie of "her" after our split. She's breaking up with the baby daddy. There's a custody fight. He's saying he doesn't know if it's his. Will I help her? Well, it's the right thing to do, so even though I don't trust or particularly like her, I say yes. I get the call, and a sob story. Most of it doesn't add up--he took the kid, but thinks it's actually mine, to prove paternity I'd need to come to NY and take a paternity test at one of their facilities, also he hit her, put a GPS tracker on her car, brother is a Russian mobster who threatened her, all very far-fetched. Needless to say, even without this fanciful tale, I generally assume if this woman is talking, it's a lie, so I'm suspicious. Her lawyer calls me, and seems like a clueless shmuck. I get a letter from him, very unprofessional and not even on a letterhead (every other legal doc I've seen has "from the law offices of blah blah" on it, but this is literally just off a laser printer), and says, verbatim "I, M___ K___, am the ex-husband of J___ K___, and was married to her from 6/07-8/09. I have no legal interest in the child." Super shady.

Not wanting to end up in a situation where I've allowed myself to be legally fucked over, I make my own lawyer consultation appointment. Before I can even go, the baby daddy finds me on Facebook and sends me a message. Between calls with him, his lawyer, and the impartial lawyer NY state appoints for the child's welfare, I get a very different story. He knows it's his, he had a paternity test done on the sly at birth because she had been promiscuous before they got together, and she was pregnant so quickly he was concerned. They broke up because she was drinking too much, he busted her with a bottle of vodka as she was driving with the kid in the car. She stood up in court, claimed I was actually the father, and she had no idea where to find me (he found me in 10 seconds online, I'm a tech guy with massive social media presence, a tech blog, multiple writing credits on publications, my frigging name as a domain, plus I've had the same cell phone number for 14 years). Also the other BS was just that, he's an IT guy for a university and his brother works for a carpet cleaning chain, plus just like in our relationship, he never hit or stalked her, etc.

So she, not knowing what I know, starts sending me text messages. I say "Filled out and on its way back to your lawyer," and toss it in the trash. I'm so tempted to send her some poetic message about how the truth is coming back to haunt her, but I resist, because I'm not doing this for her, but rather for the sake of their son and his father, so let's keep my ego out of it. I provide legal statements to all in the court. Tell them I know it's not possibly mine because I hadn't been with her since April 15 of '08, kid's birthday is in Sept of '09 (I remember the date because, due to taxes, I got fucked twice that day). Explain when she was in NY, which is the likely dates of conception, prove I was thousands of miles away on the west coast. Tell them to look through her social media, where she meticulously tagged herself and took tons of pictures of even their mundane locations. Provide a blood sample to a local lab. Tell them salacious details about her drinking and occasional drug use, including her abused prescriptions and a previous hospitalization where she was held for psych eval due to taking way too many pills.

Court comes, and she gets blindsided. Stack of depositions and a collection of statements from me were what sealed the deal, apparently, and the incredibly stupid game she was running is fully exposed. Gets no custody, no support, supervised visitation once a week. I run into her ex-roomie, upset, but instead of giving her attitude, I just calmly tell her the scam J__ was running, then let her "pull out of me" the truth about our split. She's flabbergasted, but also a horrible gossip, so it gets around town like wildfire. People I barely know, including the aforementioned biker, all come up to me and apologize for misjudging me. I'm years past the stage of having any morbid curiosity to check her social media, but every few months she pops up as a "suggested friend," and I notice bemusedly the number of mutual friends plummets from triple digits to eventually 3. Baby's father sends me a massive Amex gift card for Christmas, as much as I make in a week at the time. I call and tell him I don't know if I can accept it, I don't want him or anyone to think I did this for a reward. He virtually begs, saying "you helped save my family. This is nothing in comparison. Thank you." We break down crying on the phone, and eventually form an odd, distant friendship based on mutual respect for each other. I even had dinner with him a couple times when I had to go to NY for biz over the years, and I always buy, because the poor guy has done enough and gone through enough having to coparent with this train wreck.

To this day, she's apparently struggling to stay sober (alcohol and other substances), and has minimal involvement in her child's life due to her inability to show up when expected. Baby daddy tells me she's been in legal trouble, financial issues up the ass, and a string of boyfriends that never last more than a few months. I'm doing well, got married again three years ago, raised step-children, am reasonably financially successful, and rather like my life. Granted, a large part of this story is just karma in action, but I feel like I did the right thing, wasn't petty, and what I did do hit her where it hurts.

TL;DR: Ex-wife fucks my life, destroys me financially, tries to trash my reputation, then tries to use me as a scheme in her custody battle years later. I talk to the court directly, work with the baby daddy's lawyers, and get her exposed for the psycho, lying wench she is. She loses custody, struggles, and the good people live mostly happily ever after.

(source) (story by heymomo7)