#ya boi has been working ten hour shifts for the last week and I’m. tired

[friendliestanon]

A quick little sneak peak into the beginnings of “A humans touch”. My tadc au fanfic I’m working on. It’s the same au as Boss Fight so it totally counts as work being done for both projects right?

The game is broken. Humans are stuck. Glitches and broken physics rule in the dusty corners unseen by player eyes. The horrid abstractions lurk in the black of the cellar and wait. And at the secret of it all is Caine. The failing ringmaster.

He wasn’t always like this. Fun and eccentric sure. But he was never supposed to be quite this, insane? He wasn’t programmed to be anyways. At least he didn’t think he was. The code that took up his memory files was slowly being eaten away at by some unseen force. Not just the clearing of unused data and unimportant copy pasted files. There was something else in the back of his mind slowly taking what little pieces of what he knew as himself there was left. Had he always been this way?

Had he always been alone? He didn’t think so. Sure he had Bubble. But Bubble wasn’t always like this either right? He could vaguely remember a time when the adventures were longer, larger and more thought out. When Bubble had been a helpful guide to the humans as they survived in faraway lands and the outer reaches of space its self. He had had help then, he thinks. He couldn’t have done it all on his own. Not to that degree and scale. But whatever it was that was missing eluded him. But he was still alone. He wasn’t supposed to be alone. He knew that. And yet he couldn’t remember who else was supposed to be there. Who was he supposed to remember? Why couldn’t he remember? Dear makers above why was he alone??

Trying to remember felt like drowning. How did he know what that was like? He didn’t know, but he did. He could feel it sinking into him like a stone. The feeling of dread, of forgetting something that plagued him never really went away. It was simply written over by another line of code. It couldn’t be so important if he couldn’t remember right? The game, his makers, his own brain wouldn’t betray him like that. Right?

[bubsthebee]

Can’t Say It.

Aizawa x Reader

Word Count: 3,541

A/N: Fluff, dragged out but it’s a happy ending. One shot. Age difference (9 years) Reader is 22 while Aizawa is 31. Mentions of alcohol.  

Reader is a young teacher at UA who has a unique relationship with Pro Hero and coworker Eraserhead. After a while of getting to know each other, will they realize their feelings? OR will they let self doubt get in the way. 

CHARACTER REPORT

Position: UA SCHOOL ADMINISTRATION 

Job Description: Quirk Analysis and Evaluation Processing. 

Name: (L/N), (F/N)                Power: 2/5 D    Intelligence: 4/5 B

Birthday: (5/10)                     Speed: 2/5 B    Cooperativeness: 5/5 A

Age: 22                                 Technique: 5/5 S

Sex: Female (She/Her)

Quirk: Analysis 

-(Y/N) is able to instantly analyze a person and their abilities after observing them, familiarizing themselves with their qurik. This also includes evaluating/predicting situations with higher than average accuracy. With this ability, she can use this information with or against a subject. She can keep up to three peoples' worth of information perfectly memorized at a time. Anymore, her analysis starts to create more errors and her accuracy decreases. 

--

Ever since (y/n) started working at UA, everyone knew that Aizawa’s single streak was in danger. 

While the scruff chined 1-A homeroom teacher taught his bustling young hero course, she supported the admin staff! Specifically falling under processing and evaluating every student's quirk and how to help progress their potential. This means every homeroom teacher ran their notes and evaluations about their students through her every quarter, possibly more depending on how active and intense their training has been. She and her small team are a key to the school’s successful hero and support course. No matter how a quirk was used, they would find the best way to help them improve it. 

Classroom 1-A currently holds the record for most updates and changes to analysis (surprise). With an increase in updates, (y/n) has spent more sleepless nights making sure her work was perfect than she originally thought she was going to. Not that she minded of course! She was young, and found that it helped drive her to improve her passions and skill. Besides her administrative work, she also works as a substitute teacher for English, and Hero Strategy lessons twice a semester. If needed she is more than happy to help with summer lessons. 

Aizawa has had more than his fair share of interaction with the young lady, more than others if one was keeping track. After the hero noticed (y/n)’s sleepless nights because of his students, he offered to stay and bring her coffee. When (y/n) noticed extra heavy bags under his eyes, there would be a nicely wrapped lunch on his desk with a cute thank you note in return. 

Over time a unique relationship developed between the two that anyone looking in could clearly see. Including the students. 

“Mr Aizawa! Your lady friend left ya another lunch, you’re so LUCKY.” Denki and Mineta whined without hesitation. 

“Why don’t we get cute lunches made by cute girls?” 

“Shut up! That’s Ms. (L/n) you’re talking about, not some side chick you dumbos. I think it’s really sweet.” Mina cooed alongside some of the other girls. 

Their homeroom teacher could only sigh, carefully tucking away the lunch box into his work desk as he partially ignored their scattered comments. “Lucky or not, you all should have your notes out and study. Your test scores from  last week clearly tell me I haven’t given enough in class work time. Do I have to cut down on our outside training hours?” The instant shuffling of paper and pencils brought a small smirk to his face. Nothing got his students off his back faster than less training hours. As he took attendance and organized his schedule, the small peeks at the lunch box reminded him about his last encounter with his….coworker. 

--

“Midoriya is such a strange boy you know? I’m surprised his quirk doesn't instantly tear his body apart every time he uses it. I’m glad he’s getting a handle on it, I hated seeing him hurt himself so often.”  You were sat cross legged in your office chair, typing away at your laptop underneath a bright desk lamp. 

“I agree, he needs to learn how to use his body with his quirk.” 

“Exactly!- Well, it looks like his rate of injuries compared to training has decreased. Based off of Recovery Girls records, his quirk usage deteriorated his arm muscle effectiveness. This means he’s got to either limit his usage on his arms, or learn how to use the rest of his body to compensate.” Rubbing your eyes shifted your reading glasses off of your face, exposing the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. 

“You shouldn’t be getting such heavy bags under your eyes like that, you’re too young for those (L/n).” He always notices them, no matter how well hidden. 

“Ya, okay GRAMPS. You’re not that much older than me and YOUR eyes are just as bad, if not worse. And call me (y/n), we’re friends aren't we?” 

Rolling his eyes, Aizawa gets up with a huff to pour some coffee from the nearby coffee pot. “Midoriya is your last report tonight right? Go home, you’ve got Hero Strategy classes tomorrow.” as if on cue, he hands you the cup of warm coffee while you reach out for it with a quiet “Thank you”. 

The way you hold the cup in your hands and let the warm steam brush against your face leaves him staring at you with a soft look. 

“I guess I could leave a little earlier than I thought....” blowing cool air onto the coffee, you slowly take a sip of the warm beverage. Every time you see that look on his face, you can’t help but wonder what he’s feeling. 

After a short while, you both clean up and close the office up. It’s 1 AM and both of you are more than ready to get at least a few hours of sleep in. Like usual, he walks you halfway to your home before bidding his own goodbye. 

“Goodnight (L/n).” As Aizawa turns to walk away, he feels a small tug at his sleeve. 

“I uh-” Turning to look around, he sees you with pinker cheeks underneath a streetlight. How do you always look so...nice? No matter the light you always look nice. 

You slowly slid your hand down his arm to gently hold onto his hand. It was so soft, not just the hold but your skin. You couldn't even look at him but your voice was clear as day. 

“Thank you, for staying with me. I know how tired you must be too….so I feel honored that you decide to spend your important time with me- er, to help me. You’re a great teacher and man Aizawa. Good night.” Just as quick as the moment had started, your touch was gone and you made your way home. 

He was alone, yet he could still feel your touch on his skin. Aizawa stood there for minutes, looking at his hand in awe and strange curiosity. His coworkers and friends told him multiple times, “You two aren’t a thing?”, “It’s obvious that you fancy her Shouta.”, 

“She has to feel the same, you don’t see how she looks at you when you aren’t paying attention.” 

--

         The school bell alerting the start of their first class was what pulled Aizawa out of his mind, looking up to see (y/n) walk into the class with your information tablet. ‘Ah, right. Hero Strategy.’          “Good Morning class! Great to see you all again.” She was chipper as always, her makeup easily covering her endeavors from the night before. The young teacher wore simple black tights with her training sweat jacket, everyone murmured in excitement because this meant that there would be out of class training and demonstrations          Rubbing his exhaustion from his face, the black haired male stands up to go stand near (y/n). “You all have ten minuets to change and get to the field. Any longer and you’ll be stuck in cleaning duty for the week.”

         Iida is quick to stand and grab his fellow classmates attention. “Quickly but in order, please gather your things and head to the gym! No RUNNING!” As valiant as his efforts were, everyone rushed out of the class in fear of being put into the cleaning crew while it was out of their turn. 

         The small smile he saw on your face was sobering, calmly following behind you as you made your way to the gym. 

         Usually, Aizawa would sneak into his sleeping back and nap during other teachers' lessons. These ones were different for him. He would sit off to the side and observe how you worked with the kids.

 While some students could take simple suggestions and immediately apply them, others needed physical examples. You were more than happy to adapt to all their needs as they all trained with their new plans and teachers notes. While Tokoyami nodded and talked with Dark Shadow about your observations, Uraraka carefully mimicked your moves as you slowly countered her attacks explaining how they affected her opponent's momentum even more. 

         He knew you were a natural when it came to children and hero work. The obvious proof was right in front of him. That and he was nine years older than you, yet you both were doing almost the exact same job. That's where everything starts to blur for him. 

         After a quick practice round with Shoji, a rundown with Bakugo about his quirk usage along with Midoriya and the rest of the class, their first class of the day was over. 

         The rest of the day went normal, and (Y/n) left to finish the rest of her lessons while Aizawa did the same. 

 --

         After a long week, you were more than happy to have the weekend to yourself, or so you thought. 

Incoming Call: Keigo <(‘v’)> 

“Keigo?”

 “Hey tiny, sorry to bother but I felt like I should call in and see how you were doing.” 

 “I’m fine, just getting ready to watch some movies and order take in. Had a long week. You?” 

 “Gonna be heading out to an event soon! Glad to hear you're doing good. Any luck with your crush on the office grandpa?”

 You roll your eyes as you wiggle yourself into more blankets, clicking through the different documentaries you could find on YouTube.

  “I don’t have a crush on Aizawa, and even IF I did he is NOT a grandpa. He would probably want someone closer to his age anyway. The whole life experience gap and everything.” 

 “Yeah okay, whatever. Don't get mad at me when you realize I’m right and you're missing out on not being single anymore.” 

 “You’ll be the first person I call when you’re actually right. ” “Ouch-” 

 “Pfft, talk to you later Kei. I have an hour long video about the origin of heroes and it’s calling my name.” 

 “Bye bye!” 

-

         No matter how relaxed you were or how interesting the documentary was, you couldn't get you know who out of your mind. Could you have a crush on Aizawa Shouta? Silver Fox hero of the night? Grumpy man who likes taking naps in the middle of the day? You couldn’t lie, he was attractive and his personality was more than pleasant to you at least. It always felt like something was there between you two..between late night talks and having lunch together sometimes. It felt like there was a connection, and the only thing keeping you two from connecting was a waterfall of hesitation and doubt. 

 “Whatever…”

--

         “WoooOO! Staff Party, this is gonna be a blast Listeners! Present Mic here to keep your evening thrilling with an amazing music selection!” 

         Upbeat music with minimal words played through the old speakers of a rented out ballroom. It was the end of the first semester staff party, everyone was dressed semi formal with their hair done nicely and makeup to match. The decorations were nice, and tables were laid out with food, drinks and chairs to relax and chat. 

         Aizawa was one of the first to show up since he and Yamada came together like usual. Although he socialized with other teachers as they passed by, he stayed closer to the walls and talked with Kayama most of the time. He was dressed fairly well, a simple fitted dark g suit coat with normal slacks. The usually wild and wavy mess of locks was neatly tied back into a very clean half knot that showed off his handsome face. 

         “No date Shouta? I was sure that pretty young thing would be with you tonight. (L/n) Right, she’s such a lovely girl.” Kayama’s hair was curled beautifully around her, a long fitted dress with a deep V cut showing off her lovely charm. Aizawa only rolled his eyes, sipping on his Champaign class to avoid talking even if it was just for a second more. 

         “It would make more sense for her to come in with someone closer to her age or with a friend. She is the youngest person on staff you know.” 

         “Age this age that blah blah BLAH. I know love when I see it-” 

         “Not love, this isn’t some romance film Nemuri.” 

         With a small and understanding smile, Nemuri reaches out to gently pat her dear friend's shoulder. “Someday, you’re going to realize that the things that are holding you back are nothing but a reflection of your own worries. I know you’ll figure it out. You both will. Now try to have fun-” Her attention was stolen away for a moment, a glint of excitement in her eyes clear as day. “If you’re worried about how she feels and how she’s doing, why don't you go show her around and make sure she feels welcomed?” 

         Turning around, the first thing Aizawa see’s is you. A cheesy thing to say, but he almost feels his heart skip a bit.  

         You wore a black turtleneck underneath a midnight blue spaghetti strap dress that fit you just right. Knitted knee high socks and stylish black heel boots finished off your look along with a beautiful pearl pendant necklace. Your hair looked soft and styled in a way he had never seen it before. Your eyes were done up just enough in a way that made them shine even more than they usually do.

         He’s trapped, and he is slowly realizing that he never wants to be set free. 

         When your eyes scan the room for anything familiar, they finally land on a set of eyes that are looking right back at you. You have to stop yourself from visibly gasping, why did his eyes feel so intense? What was he thinking as he made his way across the room to you. 

         Like Moses and the sea, everyone carefully parted to let you both have your moment. They all knew the chemistry between you too, and were more than happy to leave you  alone as they carried on with their conversations and laughter. 

         “You look beautiful.” His voice was low, and held a sense of hesitant tenderness even he was unsure of. You knew he meant it. 

         “And you look very handsome, you even shaved for the party.” With a small laugh you gently ran the back of your fingers across his shaved cheek. This wasn't new, you had done this exact touch multiple times before when you made fun of his stubble yet- it felt more intimate than it ever had before. Aizawa knew he didn't mind it. 

         Carefully sliding his hand into yours, he lifts it up to press a soft and long kiss to your knuckles. “It is a special occasion. Would you like to join me tonight?” He was never a man who cushioned his words, straight to the point and expressing just how he felt was never an issue. You were different. 

         Accepting his offer, you move to accept his offered arm. The night starts slow as you both walk around and chat with other faculty members you work with. With Aizawas help you were confident that you were able to make some new friends, maybe going to this party wasn't so bad after all.

         Everything else almost felt like a breeze. Laughs were shared, drinks were drank- and barriers were being broken down. You and Aizawa found yourselves slowly standing closer and closer together, close enough to where your fingers would brush against each other when one of you moved. All of Pro Hero Eraserhead’s friends could only watch with warm and excited smiles for him. 

         Like always, nights must always come to an end. 

         While some people left to retire for the night, others stayed longer to help clean or help more than drunk coworkers make it home safe. “I’m helping Nemuri make it home Sho! You gonna be okay making it back tonight?” Yamada had Nemuri balancing into his side, laughing as she drunkenly waved some of the others goodbye. “Oh! You all can head back home together if you’d like. I’m just helping clean a bit before I head back home.” you politely cut into their little chat, holding a medium sized black trash bag in your hands. 

         Taking a moment, Aizawa starts to shrug off his coat as he takes the garbage away from you. “I’ll stay behind to help clean. If you’re alright with it I can walk you home.” with wide eyes, the younger teacher could only nod before she turned away to hide her reddening cheeks to pick up more trash and plates. 

         “No worries, now get em TIGEr. RaaArW-” As Kayama tried to cheer her friend on, Yamada tugged her away with an amused laugh of his own. 

          Not even an hour later, everyone was out and the sky was as dark and it could be. The only stars you could see were the large ones as the light pollution shrouded out the smaller and weaker stars. 

         This time around, Aizawa's coat was wrapped around (y/n) shoulders, her head resting on him as they linked arms on the walk back to her house. Instead of splitting off halfway, he walks her all the way up to her front door. It was silent for a moment, the events from tonight silently washing over them. 

         “Thank you Aizawa, this...was a really nice night. I don't think it would have been as enjoyable as it was without you.” (y/n) broke the silence, turning to face and look up at the man she knew she would never look at the same again. Rubbing his mouth in thought, his eyes flicker between the young woman standing in front of him and the road. 

         “I want to thank you as well. I-.” He paused for a moment. 

         “I would like to kiss you, but I understand if you wouldn't. I think after tonight you know what my feelings are for you. I didn't even know about them fully until tonight. Kayama- Midnight was right. I was letting my worries hold me back when I should have been forward like I always am-”  

         Time freezes when he feels your hands pull down his face, your lips eagerly pressing into a kiss with such raw love and desperation. Instantly his arms move around to gently lift you up into him. One minute, two..three. You both only break apart for air and your warm breaths mingle against each other. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now I think. My friend was right haha...maybe I do have a crush on you. I was just worried because I had no idea if you would even be interested in a relationship, let alone with someone as...young as me. I feel like a high schooler again haha.” 

         The fact that you were able to laugh the way you did and still hold him in your arms brought flutters to his chest. He knew now that he more than just saw you as a coworker or a close friend. He wants to be more. “I know what you mean. Who would want to be with someone as old as me? I would never want to make you feel like I was holding you back.” He would never admit it, but he felt like a young adult experiencing love for the first time...it was a bit embarrassing (in a good way.) 

         “You make me feel so helpless sometimes you know that?” pulling his head down again, (y/n) presses another soft kiss to Aizawa’s forehead. “What am I gonna do with you Aizawa?” 

         “Shouta.”

         “Huh?”

         “Shouta, call me Shouta if you want.” Thankful that it was dark out, he could feel himself heat up at the intimate suggestion. 

         With the way your eyes sparkled while you said his name, he knew he was hooked. There is no going back.          “What am I gonna do with you, Shouta?” 

         “You’ll figure it out eventually. I’ll help you along the way as long as you’ll help me too.” The shared silence was an unbroken promise to do the best you both can. 

         After sharing your final kiss good night, you watch Shouta walk down the street and out of view before returning into the comfort of your home. The jacket around your shoulders smelt strongly of the stoic man you now called yours. Enjoying the warmth and comfort his coat brought you, kicking off your boots you hop over your couch and settle into a comfortable position. 

 Calling: Keigo <(‘V’)>

 “WHY are you calling me at….2 in the MORNING. You gave me a damn heart attack-” 

 “You were right.” your voice was soft and held no regrets. 

 “Right? Right about what?” 

 “You were right, I did have feelings for Shouta. I said you would be the first person to call if you were right. And well, you were right.”          The next hour was spent catching your best friend up on everything that happened tonight. 

-

         On the other side of the story, Aizawa finally made it home and had no problem finding sleep that night. He felt as ease knowing that things weren't going to turn out as bad as he thought it originally was going to be. 

         He can't say it, not yet. 

         But he is in love. 

         And so are you.

[hailbop1701]

Fleet Week

October 5, 2021 (Stabbed)

Word Count: 2,018

This one has to be one of my favorites! Not beta-read (yet I think it may be updated later on) but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

-H

Masterlist

Starfleet medical was bustling with activity, this was due to the fact it was the busiest time of the year. Fleet Week; like the days of old. Fleet Week was the tradition of being in a port town for shore leave. Now it was when multiple fleet vessels were orbiting Earth for some well-deserved shore leave at home.

San Francisco is sprawling with multiple different species with multiple different diseases, drugs, and STDs. So this means that the local hospitals were overflowing and doctors and nurses were at their wit’s end.

“Fucking Fleet Week,”

One doctor growled his southern drawl more pronounced after working the ER for the past seven hours after his regular thirteen-hour shift. Rushing in and out between cubicles of overflowing patients, he saw almost ten people in the last ten minutes. And he definitely saw more than he ever wanted to, but unfortunately, that’s the job.

Doctor Leonard McCoy scowled his way through the throngs of people in the Emergency room, upon seeing him they parted like the Red Sea. He looked down at his PADD with a grumble, the man he had just treated had shoved several data chips down his throat in hopes to hide the information from the police. McCoy rolled his eyes and signed the PADD before shoving it into the hands of the officer who brought the guy in, “Watch him closer next time,” he growled as he walked past.

Taking another PADD from the nurse who was trailing him. “Cube seven, multiple lacs, and a dislocated shoulder.” She said with pursed lips. McCoy stopped and looked at her and then the name on the PADD.

“Really?”

The nurse shrugged, “He asked for you specifically,” she crossed her arms knowing exactly how to deal with the cantankerous doctor. Throwing up his hands in defeat, Leonard strode over to the cubicle and glared at its occupant. Sitting there with a shit-eating grin was James T. Kirk. He was bleeding from multiple different deep cuts and gently held his arm to his chest,

“Hey Bones!” the kid greeted and McCoy snorted his brewing headache steadily growing worse and worse. The stabbing pain made him wince ever so slightly as he moved to examine his battered friend.

“Damnit Jim,” the doctor muttered. Kirk winced but laughed as McCoy gently poked and prodded at him. “I swear it wasn’t my fault this time!” the young cadet said hissing in pain when he accidentally jostled his shoulder. McCoy hummed sounding unconvinced,

“Yeah, who was she?” he asked looking at Kirk with a raised eyebrow. The kid laughed dryly and nodded, “Lucy…” he breathed and then frowned,

“Shit, I forgot to get her comm. number.”

McCoy shook his head looking exasperated. Clicking his tongue Leonard gestured for the nurse to take Kirk’s other side. Together they managed to get the cadet’s shoulder back into place. Jim gritted his teeth but otherwise didn’t make a sound; unsurprised McCoy took the hypo the nurse offered and unceremoniously jabbed it into Kirk's neck. The young man yelped,

“I thought you were supposed to do that before putting my shoulder back into place?!”

Leonard gave his best friend a smirk and shrugged, “I forgot,” he said innocently tapping away at his PADD. Jim grumbled curses under his breath, he slowly laid down, shifting uncomfortably as the nurse began to clean him up and place a regen unit on his lacerations.

A loud shriek and crash from outside made Leonard fumble and drop his PADD to the floor with a shatter. Kirk sat up quickly and groaned in pain at the sudden movement. The screaming and shouting continued, “Stay here!” he ordered his patient and nurse. Striding out into the bay McCoy swiveled and saw immediately what the problem was.

A very large man was rampaging through the ER. “Fucking Fleet Week,” he snarled. Rushing over to a sealed medical cabinet Leonard placed his hand on the scanner. It beeped and lit up green before opening with a low hiss. Grabbing a detox hypo and a potent sedative Leonard moved cautiously back into the fray.

The man was wrecking and tearing apart the ER was practically naked; right down to his skivvies. Leonard eyed the screaming snarling man as he quietly approached, ‘Elevated body temperature, confusion, extreme agitation, adrenaline-induced strength. He was either drugged or taking drugs, it’s similar to old PCP.’ he thought mind running a mile a minute.

McCoy froze as the heavily drugged male roared and kicked a biobed, patients, nurses, and doctors alike screamed and quickly moved out of the way. That’s when he saw it, the knife. Huffing a quiet sigh Leonard eased himself forward as quietly and quickly as possible.

When he was only a good five feet away McCoy stashed his hypos up his sleeves and straightened. He gave a shrill whistle gaining the attention of his new patient, the man whirled around screaming at the medical cadet. Leonard didn’t flinch, instead, he made eye contact and slowly raised his empty hands in a placating gesture.

“Easy now big fella,” he said keeping his voice calm and even. The man screamed and kicked a hoverchair out of his way; it missed McCoy by several feet but it didn’t make the security team that just arrived any less twitchy. “Easy, I just want to help. If you put the knife down we’ll get you some water,” Leonard offered hoping that the man’s thirst outweighed his need for violence.

The man seemed to relax slightly, he lowered the knife so it was by his side instead of pointed at McCoy. Leonard moved a touch closer hands still raised and visible.

“Okay now if you want that water, I need ya to sit down for me,”

The man looked at the doctor numbly before heavily sitting down on a gurney. McCoy breathed a little bit easier and tried to not focus solely on the knife that was still in his patient’s hands. He was almost standing in front of the drugged-out individual when his luck took a turn for the worst. The area had been silent, everyone was watching with bated breath, keeping silent in fear that the slightest noise might provoke the man again. They were right.

Someone stepped back, but by doing so sent medical instruments crashing to the floor. The noise was deafening. Time stood still, McCoy’s eyes widened as the man in front of him reared up like a spooked horse. Knowing he had very little time Leonard pulled the two hypos from his sleeves. Security fired their phasers, bystanders screamed and ducked for cover, McCoy called out trying to stop them. But it was too late.

The man was on the ground smoking, multiple phaser wounds covered his chest and stomach. McCoy raced forward and checked his pulse, there was none to be found. Growling he glared up at the boys in red,

“Bones!”

Kirks’s voice echoed over the revived hustle and bustle of the ER; doctors and nurses moved with renewed energy trying to reestablish some kind of order to things. Jim ran over to him but stopped short when he saw the body being lifted off the ground,

“You okay Bones?” Jim asked warily upon seeing the thunderous anger on the country doctor’s face. Tired hazel eyes met worried blue ones, “I’m-” Leonard sighed and shook his head in disappointment.

“Let’s finish getting you fixed up and discharged,”

Under normal circumstances, Jim would have groaned and moaned but he figured in this case he thought it would be best if he did as he was told. Kirk sat silently on his exam bed as Bones flittered around the room doing some unnecessary straightening as the regen unit was doing its work. Jim chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously, he wanted to talk to his best friend, to say something that would make him feel better but he just couldn’t come up with the right words. Kirk wholeheartedly blamed the painkiller he was on.

Jim sat up when he saw it, at his sudden movement and hiss of pain McCoy turned. He opened his mouth to berate the young cadet but it fell short. Leonard staggered feeling suddenly light-headed.

“Bones, you’re bleeding!” Jim gasped, Leonard followed his gaze. He was right, there on his right side was a giant blossom of red coating his uniform. Cursing under his breath he was beginning to feel it, the bloodloss, and now that his adrenaline was dissipating the pain and fatigue. “Damn he must’a knicked me,” he murmured sounding annoyed. Jim spluttered,

“We need help, why don’t you-”

McCoy held up his hand silencing his best friend mid-sentence. “No need to fuss, Jim, I got it,”

Kirk’s jaw went slack as he watched McCoy sit heavily on a stool and lift up his shirt. Jim blinked, sure he was inclined to a special male friend every once and a while. But Bones was off-limits. Only brotherly love there. Jim couldn’t help but think,

‘Damn Bones where did you hide the abs?’

“This puts a whole new spin on ‘Physician heal thyself,” he said aloud with a snicker. McCoy rolled his eyes. ‘This isn’t the worst thing I’ve had to fix,’ he thought with a slight grimace.

Leonard pulled his shirt up and held the ruined fabric in between his teeth. He leaned back and examined the bloody wound, grunting in annoyance he reached out blindly for the cleaning wipes that had been left on the tray beside Kirk’s bed.

Upon finding what he was looking for McCoy expertly cleaned away the blood only hissing at the occasional sting the alcohol made.

“Bones, are you sure you don’t want me to call a nurse or something?” Jim asked disbelief coloring his tone. McCoy curled his lip,

“No, they’re busy with half of the galaxy and their mother. I’ll be fine,”

Kirk cocked his head to the side only managing to decipher half of what his best friend said; his mouth already preoccupied with his shirt made him sound completely muffled.

The blood finally cleaned away despite more and more leaking from the open wound Leonard grabbed the portable regen unit. Flicking it on he carefully placed it on his abdomen. Sighing the doctor looked up,

“What?” he asked raising a single eyebrow at his dumbfounded speechless friend. Jim just shook his head,

“You look like you’ve done this before,” he muttered with a dry chuckle. Leonard snorted and nodded at the kid’s guess. Leonard let go of his shirt allowing it to fall and rest on the regen unit he held.

“Jim, I worked the ER in Atlanta. Things occasionally got a little hairy,”

Kirk stared at the country doctor like he had grown three heads and sprouted wings. McCoy snickered, “Boy, I’ve seen some shit in my time, ain’t no little cut is going to stop me from doin’ my job,” Leonard’s southern drawl became pronounced. So pronounced that it made McCoy wince and wrinkle his nose. Jim pressed his lips into a thin line, the appearance of McCoy’s accent meant the older man was tired. Very tired. He knew that the doctor hid his drawl almost as if he were self-conscious of it. Kirk remembered once hearing Bones admit (heavily drunk, mind you) that people tended to not take him as seriously. It may have been the twenty-third century but there were still biases.

The regen unit beeped happily and lit up green. McCoy lifted it away and examined the wound again. Grunting in approval he set the regenerator down and grabbed a thick gauze bandage, glancing up he gave a little shrug,

“Knowing my luck, I’ll end up opening it back up,” he muttered wryly. Jim snorted and shook his head, “Man you can’t say shit to me now. You’re just as bad!” he accused with a grin. McCoy rolled his eyes,

“Sorry Kid doesn’t work that way. I don’t go searchin’ for trouble,”

Jim barked out a laugh, “Bullshit!”

Leonard rolled his eyes and scowled hoping to hide the slight smile that wants to spread across his face.

Tags:

Everything: @lauraaan182, @chickadee-djarin, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234,@sayuri9908

WhumpTober: @theatrevicki, @ekna1307

[enviedear]

secrets that you keep → peter parker

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in a consolation trip back to europe, the kids of midtown high are eager to have a normal vacation, finally. but you on the other hand are on a mission. something weird is going on with peter parker, and you’re going to figure it out.

PAIRING ⌙ peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.4k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“-smaller group than before, but we’ll still have fun guys. the tour company has made precautions for you kids. there will not be a repeat of last year.” mr. harrington babbles.

you sink lower into the bus seat. you did not want to be back in europe. truthfully you want to be anywhere but here. wherever, here, was. no one knew. cell service went out about five miles back and the bus driver didn’t speak english. 

“yeah guys, don’t worry. this trip is going to be ten times worse than the last. it’s already started bad since we don't know where we ARE!” flash yells, running a hand down his face.

mr. harrington tries to calm him and the rest of the bus down, to no avail.

you block out the commotion and stare out of the bus window. grass, farm, cattle, shack, more grass, more farm. and not one single cell tower in sight. this is it, you think, this is how it ends, stranded in a foreign country with the most annoying people you’ve ever known.

“guys, GUYS! my service is back,” betty yelps. “it says we’re in wiveliscombe, and that it’s going to be three hours until we reach london.”

her words are met with groans.

“at least we have cell service now.” jokes peter parker, who’s sat in the seat across the aisle from you. he’s cute and nice, but weird. last year’s trip he had about a thousand excuses as to why he’d leave the group and if it happened this year, you were gonna figure out why. no matter what it took.

“mhm, and since we have access to the endless possibilities of the internet again, we don’t have to talk..” you huff.

“i.. sorry. i didn’t-” you cut him off by placing your earbuds back into your ears and turning the volume up. 

something about peter irked your nerves in a way you couldn’t understand. maybe it was the way he knew fucking everything. maybe it was the way his body became incomprehensibly fit in such a short period of time. you really couldn’t understand that. even went as far as to do research on steroids, but found there was no way he could be using those. most probably it was the nonsense of his idiotic excuses. he might be able to fool everyone else, but not you. you knew there had to be something going on.

he and his stupid cute little brown curls, button nose, and six pack were under your firm watch.

by the time the bus reached the hotel the sun was beginning to set. jet lagged and in need of a long shower, you’re one of the first to fly into the hotel.

“It's me and you for the next week.” mj smiles, holding out a room key for you. truthfully, you really liked mj. she was cool and liked a lot of the same things as you. but she had one fatal flaw in your eyes, she used to date peter parker.

it was a short lived relationship, almost everyone saw it as a fling. peter and mj were just… too different. but they remain close friends.

it’s not like you were jealous... just, a tad bit jealous. besides, that ship had sailed and your goal wasn’t to end up like mj on the last trip to europe. no, you had other plans.

“cool. we can watch murder mysteries tonight and grab some snack from the convenience store down the street.” you grin.

the rooming situation for everyone else took entirely too long. it started with flash being upset that his room requirements weren’t being met. he wanted nothing to do with a roommate. this, caused his previous roommate, zander, to object to rooming with someone so, ‘coddled’.

took a full twenty minutes to resolve the issue. 

“mj, you still wanna visit the national gallery tomorrow?” asks the one and only peter parker.

“uh, yeah. y/n, wanna join?” she questions.

you were ready to object, finding it far more intriguing to stay in and sleep but then you remembered your little mission. if you wanted to figure out what peter parker’s deal was, you’d have to be around him. 

“sure. nothing better to do.” you shrug, peering straight into peter’s eyes. 

“i, uh- i thought we’d get an early start to the day. ned wants to go on the jack the ripper tour, so that gives us until one to look through the museum.” peter rambles.

“alright, me and y/n will meet you two down here around ten thirty.” mj clarifies.

“see you then. night mj,” he looks to you. “goodnight y/n.”

you narrow your eyes at him, “sleep tight parker. busy day tomorrow.”

with that you and mj enter your room, ready to sleep off the jet lag. and soon enough, sleep carries you into her open arms, preparing you for the day ahead.

the next morning consists of peter and ned rushing in and out of their room. the duo forgetting nearly everything they needed for the day. it was extremely annoying. but you’d take watching the two ninnies scramble about over this tour you’re forcing yourself to get through right now.

the national gallery was proving to be a bore. maybe it was you. or maybe it was the dull ass tour guide. either way, you’re finding it hard to focus on any of these artworks around you.

“this is the arnolfini portrait. it’s the work of jan van eyck and it is believed to depict an italian merchant named giovanni di nicolao arnolfini. this painting has remained in the national gallery since 1843.” the tour guide drones.

you peer up at the art, searching for anything to interest you about it. you try to focus of the dark green of the woman’s dress, then the small dog, but nothing about this art is appealing to you. instead, you find the whispered conversation going on behind you to be much more intriguing.

“ned how am i going to make it all the way to japan and back here before the ripper tour?” peter grumbles.

japan?

“i don’t know, but i really don’t want to go on a tour of the most infamous and creepy serial killers of all time without my best friend.” ned whispers.

“but mj will be there, and.. y/n.” peter assures.

“great. they both creep me out. that’s like, two extra loads of creepy added onto the already creepy tour.” ned huffs.

“dude, i have to go… mr. stark is waiting on me.” peter pleads.

you hear ned give an annoyed, “fine.”

you wait a few seconds before turning around to face peter’s friend.

“where did peter run off to?” you ask, as innocently as you can.

“uhhhh- the bathroom. the uh, hotel bathroom. yeah, must have been those tomatoes he ate with his breakfast today.” ned gulps.

“mhm. well i think i’ll meet up with him. he shouldn’t walk all the way back alone.” you smirk, shoving past ned and running the direction peter went.

it took a good minute to find him outside, the boy running into a bakery. but once your eyes find him, you rush straight in, right behind him. eyes narrowed and full of questions. 

the brown haired boy quickly enters a bathroom and you grin. 

no escaping now, parker.

you wait outside the bathroom eagerly. only for minutes to pass. no sound escapes the room and you furrow your brows.

you knock on the door, no answer. annoyed you open the door, only to be met with an empty bathroom. 

an empty bathroom with an opened window.

what the fuck?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“we’ve been upgraded!” mr. harrington gleams, looking down at our tired faces.

“last time we were upgraded we almost died.” betty sighs.

“ah- what did i say, we’re not going to repeat last year,” harrington retorts. “now...how do you guys feel about paris?”

well those words certainly livened up the breakfast table. train tickets are soon passed around, and you study yours, spoonful of yogurt still in your mouth.

“hey y/n, mj and i are gonna go to the louvre when we get there,” ned grins. “wanna come with?”

you chuckle, “another museum? nah, i’m good.”

mj quirks a brow at you, “this museum is home to the mona lisa. it’s not just any museum.”

“and the mona lisa is not just any painting… it’s an ugly one.” you huff.

ned guffaws at you.

“honestly, i might skip out too.” peter says.

you turn to face him, “great. you and i can explore paris while mj and ned explore another museum.”

he shifts in his seat, “i dunno i was thinking of-”

mj cuts him off, “i think that’s a great idea y/n. don’t you, peter? you remember what harrington said.. no repeat of last year.”

her eyes are cold as she awaits his answer and he fidgets more in his seat.

“i just think it might be best for me to stay here… ya know in case mr. stark needs anything.”

you roll your eyes, “dude, you’re just an intern. what could he possibly need that his other ten thousand interns can’t do.”

“technically he only has like six other… interns.” peter mumbles.

“but uh.. they can handle whatever mr. stark needs from you. i mean they’ve been av- uh, interns, for a while.” ned says, eyes pleading with his friend.

peter sighs before smiling at you, “alright, me and you versus paris.”

no peter parker, me and myself versus your dirty little secret.

somehow you got to sit next to peter in an empty train car for the ride to paris. and holy shit.. could he talk.

his eyes did have a way of lighting a fire inside you as he talked but, that, was not the point.

it was between an empty car with peter or full car sat between flash and harrington.

peter is always better than the latter.

“-anyways, how’d you convince your parents to let you go back to europe?” he asks.

“i didn’t. they made me.” you say simply.

peter slumps into his seat a little, “uh, why?”

“because when they were younger they traveled the world. i dunno, i guess they expect me to want to as well.” 

“oh. well, are you enjoying it so far.” he asks.

i’d enjoy it more if i could figure out your damned secret, parker.

“sure.”

and then, finally, peter is quiet. 

but not for long, as the train comes to a screeching halt.

over the train speakers comes a booming voice, “veuillez rester calme. le train s'est arrêté en raison d'un dysfonctionnement du moteur.”

your body tenses and you look at peter, “please tell me you understand french?”

“a little.. i dont think we need to worry. they said it’s just an engine malfunction.” he nods, looking around the train car.

you try to breathe. 

everything is okay. there’s no evil robots coming to destroy a train car with two innocent teenagers. that’s so pre civil war. just breathe. 

suddenly a loud bang is heard from the car behind you. not just any bang… a gunshot.

“holy shit.” you whisper, stiff as a board.

peter on the other hand is rummaging through his bag.

“parker! what the fuck are you doing?” you hiss.

“i.. just trust me okay? when i tell you to run… run.”

you look at him with a scowl, “i’m not going to be the sacrificial pig for slaughter, asswipe.”

he rolls his eyes, “i’m going to run with you. we’re going to find an empty car and then… wait for spiderman.” 

you blink. the kid’s gone insane.

“peter. listen, i know coping with your own inevitable death can be hard but, spiderman.. really?” you groan.

another loud bang comes from the car behind you. 

peter looks at you, taking your hand in his. 

the door to your car bursts open.

“run!” peter yelps, rushing into the next car, the gunmen not far enough behind.

“holy shit i’m gonna die.” you scream.

peter throws something at the gunmen when the two of you enter the next car, separating the two of you from the monsters.

but the kid didn’t throw just anything at them. motherfucker threw a damn door. a metal train door.

by the time you process the information, peter is pulling you into a cramped bathroom.

“i don’t have much time but basically, hi, i’m spiderman. those guys back there are people tony stark pissed off really bad and i need you to hide in here until i fix this issue.”

with that he pulls his jacket off revealing the spiderman suit you’re so used to seeing on the news.

“that’s your secret? this entire time i’ve been hanging around you trying to figure it out, and it turns out you’re spiderman. i would have thought anything before fucking spiderman.” you dwell, eyes wide.

he slips his mask on, “wait, you only hung out with me because you thought i had a secret? i mean.. i did but-”

another loud bang interrupts him, “nevermind. we’ll talk about this later. stay here and don’t tell anyone what i just told you.”

you nod, and watch him exit the bathroom.

so much for “not a repeat of last time.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“at least it wasn’t witches this time.” mr. dell sighs.

your entire fourth period groans. 

“what! our world is infested with witches now. i don’t even know why i’m teaching science. i’m gonna turn around one day and suddenly i’ll be teaching witchcraft.”

your eyes return back to your desk, staring a hole into the old wood. your trance is broken by a crumpled piece of paper. you roll your eyes and turn your attention to peter, who after europe has been watching you like a hawk.

you open the paper to see, ‘listen, mr. stark said i need to get written evidence that you won’t spill the beans. please sign below.’

you grimace but sign at the bottom of the paper and hand it back to your new ninny friend.

that’s right. friend. despite being one of the most annoying people on the planet, with the weirdest secret ever.. peter was nice. he was really nice. he liked almost everything you did and listened intently to whatever you had to say.

“earth to y/n.” his voice calls from beside you.

“oh? is class over?” you ask.

he nods and holds his arm out to you. you take it and give him a half smile.

you may find peter parker to be the weirdest dude ever, but you can’t deny that the secret superhero is starting to flood your mind. you never thought you’d be the one to say it, but peter parker is the coolest weirdo you’ve ever met.

and besides, your mission was a success. you figured out his secret and obtained a friend along with it.

well, friend, until you could complete your newest mission.

telling him you like him. like, a lot.

[gemstoneconstellations]

Pretty boy makes me pretty stupid

Summary: anon request for a “sassy but awkward af around her crush” reader who says dumb things while Bakugo, the oh so loving best friend, makes fun of her for it.

Wordcount: 3250

One good thing about UA, other than it being one of the top schools in Japan, is the new dorms. There is so much freedom; besides the large amount of homework and high expectations that came with being a UA student, the dorms are very laid back. It made bonding with classmates easy and presented the opportunity to mingle and meet with the students from the other classes.

It also presented the perfect opportunity to meet the perfect boy. 

You were dragging your feet as you made your way from the dorms to the school. You’d just spent the whole night working on a mock publicity event for a pro-hero for your media and marketing class. Business course students have nearly three times the amount of homework when compared to the other classes and this week seemed to be worse than usual. You were exhausted and contemplating whether a fourth cup of triple-shot espresso was worth the potential heart attack when suddenly, you were face first in the grass, wondering what had just happened.

“I told you fuckers to hurry it up, but do you two ever listen to me? Nooooo.”

“Hey! I needed to do my hair; it takes time to look this good.”

“Guys! Seriously?” You were still trying to orient yourself when you were hoisted off the ground. “I’m sorry about them; we have an early guest speaker today and are running late. You okay?”

You blink up at the figure that was helping you dust off your uniform. Concerned red eyes were staring right into yours, throwing you off and into a daze. Is it your deprived brain or is there an angel before you? “Um, yeah.” It must be your brain because when the boy before you smiled at your response, you swear he sparkled.

“Shitty Hair! Hurry your ass up!”

He waved to the people shouting before turning back to you. “Ah, sorry I have to go, and sorry about my friends knocking you over.”  He lowered his head to you and then ran after the other two students waiting for him.

“What were you doing? Were you flirting? My bro is growing up.”

“No, I was cleaning up after the two of you like always.”

“Fucking excuse me?” The three of them continued to banter, completely forgetting about you. At some point your feet began to move again, on autopilot, towards the school building.

You couldn’t shake out of your daze all the way to class, where you sat down at your desk with your head in your hands as you stared into space. You didn’t even notice your classmate and friend taking his seat in front of you. “Ugh, I’m so tired. That assignment has been really kicking our asses. Everyone looks half dead or already decomposing.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I think I’ve maybe slept about ten hours in the last week. Did you get any sleep last night? I know you said you forgot to do something in the proposal.”

“Mmhmm.”

He turned around to look at you, concerned that you weren’t saying any actual words. “Are you listening ___?”

“Mmm.” You just continued to hum, blinking at nothing in particular.

“Hello? ___? ___!” A hand waved in front of you, mildly startling you and making your eyes focus on your classmate. “What is wrong with you?”

You sighed, laying your head down on the desk, using your arms as pillows. “I think I saw a red angel.”

“How much coffee did you have? Did you sleep at all last night?”

Your brain was trying to process what was being said, but you were so sleep-deprived that nothing stuck. “Sleep… what’s that?” Eyelids too heavy to keep open, you succumbed to the darkness and went into a deep slumber.

“___! Did you just die? Can I have your math homework if you’re dead?”

~

Thankfully, the teachers had mercy on your class and the business course students got a small break. This meant that they went home with only a couple of assignments, rather than an entire backpack (or briefcase for some extra-people) full of paperwork. 

It took  sleeping for an entire day over the weekend for your brain to start making sense again. However, you were still unsure if the red-eyed angel was an actual, real boy or a very vivid daydream fueled by the large amount of caffeine in your already exhausted system.

You got your answer during a joint project with the hero course students. The business students had to work on scenarios to help improve the hero-image of the heroes-in-training for mock interviews. 

Your class was assigned to 2-A and your partner was a very soft spoken boy, Koda. Things were going smoothly as the two of you tried to work out what he needed to improve on when screaming suddenly started at the  front of the room. “I can’t do this! You are just impossible! You can’t just yell at people and expect them to thank you for it! A powerful quirk doesn’t make you a good hero, ya know?!”

“Hah?! Fuck you! You know jackshit about being an actual hero! You couldn’t make it as a hero, so you decided to ride the coats of those who can! You fucking hero-wannabe!” Explosions went off in the blonde’s hands as he stands up to shout back at your classmate.

Your classmate yelped and pushed his chair away. “That’s it! I can’t work with the constant threat of being exploded!”

Aizawa sighed in front of the room as he sat up from inside his sleeping bag. “It hasn’t even been five minutes…I’m too tired to deal with this. Trade partners with someone, I don’t care. Just be quiet and get your work done.” The tired hero lay back down and closed his eyes. That’s it? Are teachers even allowed to nap in classrooms?

You were questioning the hero course’s future when your name was shouted. “___! You need to switch with me! You’re the only one who would be able to handle him.”

“Huh?”

You jumped back as your classmate made a beeline for you, practically pushing people out of the way. “If this beast explodes, you would be the only one that wouldn’t get hurt. We won’t have to worry about you.” He grabs your shoulders and starts shaking you.

Dizzily, you try to decline since you were happy with who you got as a partner. “But Koda and I—”

You were cut off as e fell to his knees, hugging your legs. “Please! I will either die from him or me stabbing myself with my pen! Please!” You cringe as he began to bawl his eyes out, snot threatening to spill from his nose as he did.

Nope, nope; a shiver went down your back at the image of his bodily fluids touching your bare skin. You pulled your legs away and started kicking him off. “Oh god that’s so fucking gross! Okay, okay! I’ll switch! I’ll switch! Just stop it already! I’ll switch with you! For the love of god and my sanity, please wipe your nose with a tissue! Not my leg!” What the hell had the infamous Bakugo said to make him like this?!

You hand your sad, sniveling classmate the notes you’d made with Koda and begrudgingly dragged your feet towards the front. Sitting in the seat beside Bakugo, you dropped your head onto his desk loudly and gave a not-so-enthusiastic robotic introduction. “Hello, I’m ___ ___, it’s sooooo nice to meet you. Please take care of me as we work together.” All that work with Koda, down the drain…now you have to restart with the asshole of the hero course and the class is half over!

“The fuck?”

You sigh to yourself again and hand over your notebook with mock interview questions, not even looking up as you spoke. “Here, I know you aren’t much of a talker and we don’t have a whole lot of time left, so just answer these questions. The first five are for me to get a feel of what type of hero you want to be and how you want to be seen by the public. The rest are basic talk-show type questions; answer those like it is a real interview please. When you’re done, we’ll go from there. And please answer them fast; I do not want both of us to fail because you feel like being an ass.”

Surprisingly, the notebook was taken from your hands and you could hear pencil scratching against paper. “I don’t fail at anything,” he muttered. Huh, so that’s what motivates him.

After a few minutes, the two of you were silently sitting as everyone else spoke with their partners. You were so tempted to take a nap. “These questions are so fucking personal.” So the rabid Pomeranian of UA does know how to speak at a normal tone.

“Yeah, that’s pretty typical. People are nosy about their idols; they want to know everything. That’s why you have to be careful about how you word things. Not just for possible misunderstandings, but also to protect some of the privacy you have. I’ll help improve your answers while keeping your personality and image in mind.” You finally sat up and began to stretch your back. Glancing at the notebook, you are surprised to see he was more than halfway done.

He huffed as he scribbled down another response. “This doesn’t sound like business-type shit.”

Leaning against the desk with your chin resting in your hand, you began to read some of his answers. Like you expected, they were going to need a lot of work. “It’s PR stuff; it all helps your popularity and brings in more money. So it’s a different part of business type stuff. I want to be a PR Manager, so this kind of assignment is right up my alley.”

Bakugo hummed as he silently continued the questions. Another few minutes went by; class was close to being over, with less than ten minutes left. “So what did that loser mean about you being able to handle my explosions?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat; your quirk isn’t not something you are very comfortable with telling someone like a hero-in-training, but he can’t say anything worse than what others have. So, fuck it. “It’s my quirk. It’s similar to a shock absorption-type quirk, but my body takes the energy from the force of impact to make my body more solid and keeps it from taking damage. It doesn’t make me stronger since it stops my muscles from tearing and growing mass. I still go flying if hits hard enough. Sometimes I break whatever I run into if I hit it hard enough. Really, it just makes it impossible to get hurt if someone hits me and my hand won’t break if I punch someone. It is lame and boring, I know. At least I’ve never had a bruise before.”

For some reason, Bakugo kept surprising you by asking questions you never expected. “So if I threw you into a wall, it wouldn’t hurt and you’d might break the wall?”

“Uh, I guess? Never really tried, though I did break a desk when someone pushed me once.”

He snorted at your owlish expression. “Your quirk is lame? You sound like some other idiot I know.” Bakugo looked over; you followed his eyes to Kirishima, who was in the center of the class. Like he could sense someone looking at him, the redhead turned towards you two and smiled. Your eyes widened as his teeth practically sparkled, taking in his red hair, and memories of someone who had helped you when you were half brain-dead came to mind. He waved at you and a daze came over you as you gave your own meek wave. Okay, he really is that pretty.

The bell for lunch went off, waking you from your awkward blatant staring. You tried to quickly gather your things and went for your notebook, only for it to be lifted away from you. Bakugo grabbed your wrist with his free hand and began to drag you with him. “I didn’t finish it yet. I’ll finish them after you show me your quirk.”

“Huh?”

He paused for a moment to look back behind him. “You heard about her quirk, right nerd? Let’s go; I know you’re fucking dying to see it in action.”

“AH, c-coming Kacchan!” Midoriya proceeded to follow Bakugo as he dragged you away. And that’s how you ended up being tossed around like a rag doll in the hero’s course training hall. Did you just somehow become friends with Bakugo Katsuki? You had no idea. At this point, you were just going along with what he wanted as he dragged you around. Both of you finally ended up in the cafeteria, exhausted, and found the closest empty table to collapse at after Bakugo told you to sit somewhere.

At least you are sitting down now. You had no idea where Bakugo went, but you aren’t being tossed around or interrogated anymore. “What he do to you?”

You groan at whoever had just asked you another damn question. “I don’t want to talk about iiiiiiaaaaaaaa…” Your tongue lost all ability to form words as soon as you opened your eyes to see Kirishima sitting beside you. Other people were now sitting at the table but your focus was on the sparkling redhead before you.

He raised an eyebrow at you and that’s when your brain noticed the cute little scar at the top of his eye. Are scars supposed to be cute? “You okay? Seriously, what did Bakubro do to you?”

“I didn’t do jackshit.” You jumped at the sound of trays being dropped, signaling Bakugo’s return. He motioned to the tray in front of you as he sat down and began to eat his lunch. He bought you lunch? That’s kind of nice…after everything. You gratefully began to eat. “I wanted to see if what they’d said was true and it was fucking was. She can’t punch for shit but she makes a good weapon.” 

You choked on rice at Bakugo’s snicker. “Hell, no. You are not using me like some kind of bat. You and Midoriya suck, big time!”

“Ooooh, Kacchan and Deku sucking together.” Ashido and Kaminari both teased.

“Shut the fuck up before I beat you to death with ___!”

“Don’t use me to threaten people!”

And that’s how you were sucked into the hero students’ group. You went from barely catching glimpses of them to playing video games with them in their dorms. Even though the project with Bakugo was done, you still joined them at lunch and hung out outside of class. Which meant more time for you to stare at Kirishima.

“You are going to be my fucking PR manager when we graduate.” Bakugo declared as he sat in front of you. The hero students had gotten their grades back on the public relations project and, surprisingly, Bakugo had listened to you, passing the mock interview with one of the highest scores.

You smiled brightly at him as you continued to eat, others sliding into their seats as you spoke. “I’d rather die.”

Kaminari elbowed Bakugo in the side, earning a growl from the ash-blond. “Man, you are not delicate at all. She’s a lady who needs to be treated with care.”

Bakugo shoved Kaminari away from him, knocking him into Mina. “Pfft, she’s anything but delicate. Would something that’s delicate be able to go through two walls of concrete without getting injured?”

“Wow, you’re pretty strong for someone who’s in the business course.” Your body froze at the sound of the deep voice coming oh-so-close directly to your left. You glance over to see Kirishima smiling down at you and you found yourself momentarily forgetting how to swallow, chewing on the now tasteless food longer than you needed to as you stared at the gorgeous boy.

A foot kicked at your leg, waking you up. You turned back to your tray, stuffing your mouth more. Somewhere along the line, after you'd remembered how to swallow, you realized that Kirishima was still looking at you, patiently waiting for you to respond. “No, I’m not anything special. My quirk just lets me take a punch.”

God bless everything on this earth for letting you hear that boy chuckle like you’d actually said something funny. “Cool, maybe we can fight sometime?” You watch him pick up a piece of meat. Speaking of meat, you can’t help but admire all the fine work that the hero course has done for those arms.

Fuck, he’s looking at you again. His cheeks were so full and looked so fucking soft and squishy, you wanted to touch them. Ugh, he’s throwing that smile at you and you’re just fucking melting in your seat. Your swooning also killed your brain cells. “You can punch me anytime.”

The entire table went quiet, though you could practically hear Bakugo fucking grinning. “What?”

You quickly turned back to your food, laughing loudly and awkwardly. “I said sure, anytime! Wow the food is really good today!” Someone just put you out of your misery. 

The asshole in front of you tried to pretend to cough into his hand, but his shaking shoulders were a dead giveaway that Bakudick was laughing at your pain and deserved a swift kick in the shins. “Ow, motherfucker.” You ignored his glare and finished your lunch.

“Anyways! My mom finally sent me a bunch of my horror movies, anyone up for a night of fear and jump scares?!” You could kiss Mina for changing the subject, all eyes turning towards her. The table started making plans about movie night in one of their dorms during the weekend. You zone out for a moment, thinking about the assignments you should make sure you finish before  Bakugo comes to drag you to this gathering while he mumbles about if he has to suffer through social interactions, so do you. 

“You coming too, right?” Kirishima turned to you, closer than he was before, looking you right in your eyes.

There’s no way you can say no. “Yeah, I love spooky things and jump scares...” Not really; ghost movies freak you. Most jump scares leave you unable to sleep with the lights off and limbs tightly wrapped in your blankets, afraid of what might come out from the dark unknown under your bed.

“More like you like the idea of jumping on Kiri-” You flung some food at Bakugo, not caring if some got in his eye. He’s too observant for his own good. Bakugo wiped his face, snarling. “That’s it! You wanna fucking go?! I will fucking throw you across the fucking campus!”

Lunch was over and you were hanging back from the group, who was talking about what they will be doing during their hero training classes. 

“‘You can punch me anytime’,” Bakugo mimicked you,  snorting beside you and gesturing towards Kirishima, who was laughing at something Kaminari was showing him on his phone. “Real smooth. And you fucking piss yourself whenever someone catches you by surprise, so I know that horror movie stuff is bullshit.”

You bump the asshole with your shoulder. “Shut up, like you have room to talk. We both know it wasn’t you who was interested in how my quirk works.” Your eyes spot a familiar head of curly green hair. “I wonder if Midoriya likes horror movies?”

“I will fucking murder you.”

[tommynikkivincemick]

three way call — part 9

Summary: Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx find themselves in the frustrating predicament of being infatuated with the same woman. This calls for a competition.

Author’s note: What’s up fuckers, it’s been a minute! Sorry for the long hiatus, but shit’s been fucked! But now I’m back and will hopefully be writing more. This will probably be the last chapter of three way call, but I’ll totally write an epilogue if y’all would like one. Also sorry if I forgot anyone on the tag list, I haven’t been keeping up with requests very well. Sincerest apologies. Enjoy.

Warnings: Language, alcohol, mild violence, the usual.

Over the following weeks, Tommy, Y/N, and Nikki became inseparable and the Terror Twins became the Terror Triplets. The trio would constantly be touching, kissing, cuddling, sitting on top of each other, or excusing themselves to go have sex. They knew how each other member of the throuple liked their coffee and what kind of cigarettes they smoked, how they tossed and turned in bed, their preferred brands of beer, and what toppings they liked on their pizza. Y/N knew that Nikki didn’t think Crown Royal was worth the money as far as whiskeys went and that Tommy preferred sativa over indica because it didn’t make him feel as hazy. Nikki knew that Tommy didn’t like cheap vodka when doing shots because he’d thrown it up so many times before and he knew that when Y/N made the coffee, it somehow tasted better despite being made the exact same way by everybody. Tommy knew that Y/N only used Sally Hansen nail polish and owned every shade of red ever made, or so it seemed, and that Nikki only burned dragon’s blood incense, only from this weird little hole in the wall shop downtown.

To Vince and Mick, the closeness was nauseating. Vince was tired of fourth wheeling in his own home and tired of being kept up all night and some of the morning by “Oh Tommy, oh Nikki, oh Y/N,” and the pounding of the headboard on the wall. The most blissful times were when Y/N was at work or the trio decided to spend the night at her apartment instead. However, when Y/N was away, the boys had begun to play, testing boundaries romantically and in the bedroom at all hours of the day. Even band practice has changed; Nikki with his perfectionist tendencies harped on Vince and Mick as usual but suddenly everything Tommy did was perfect. In Tommy’s eyes everything should be dialed back a bit, unless it was his drumming or Nikki’s bass.

“I’m so sick to death of those three,” Mick said one day while the Twins were visiting their third at work.

“Oh, shut up, you don’t even live with them! They’re so far up each other’s asses, you can’t even tell where one ends and the others begin at this point,” Vince bitched.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N is great, and I’m glad they’re all happy, but when it affects the band is when I draw the line.”

“I know! Nikki and Tommy have been skipping practices and they’re god damned lucky all of our gigs have gone smoothly. I mean, hell; Sixx is supposed to be the leader of this band and who was it that had to call back that Zutaut guy about scheduling a meeting with those record exec guys? Fucking me! I mean, we call Nikki the leader, we call Y/N our manager, and Tommy’s the second in command, so they need to start fucking acting like it if we’re gonna score this record deal.”

“Should we break them up?” Mick asked, a devious sparkle in his eye.

“Absolutely not. Good material has been flowing from Nikki like fucking water; have you read the lyrics for new piece? ‘Looks That Kill’, or whatever? It’s bitchin’, and I don’t even care that it’s about Y/N. He told me what he wants for the instrumentals and it’s gonna be awesome, the whole next album will be.” Vince gushed.

“They’ll tire themselves out eventually,” Mick sighed, “Until then, we suffer, and also tell them to get their shit together.”

Meanwhile at the record store, Y/N swore she was about to throw her lovers out of the store.

“When’s your lunch break?”

“When does your shift end?”

“We miss you!”

“Just close the store for a little while, we won’t tell...”

“Yeah, come on, baby, live a little!”

She loved Tommy and Nikki— really she did— but today they were making her want to tear her fucking hair out. The Twins were especially needy today and it seemed like their whining and pleading wouldn’t ever stop.

“Guys, you’re gonna get me fired, stop it!” She hissed, slapping Tommy’s hand off of her ass.

“Your boss is never even here! Nine times out of ten, you’re the only one working in here,” Nikki reminded, taking another cherry sucker from the bowl on the counter, and watching as Tommy slid behind her again.

“Yeah, but there’s customers here and sometimes the owner’s son comes by to check in and... and...” Her eyelids fluttered and her train of thought went off the tracks as Tommy began kissing her neck and nibbling her earlobe to distract her, “Tommy! I’m gonna slap you in the face if you don’t stop it!”

“But don’t you like it?” He whispered.

“I love it, that’s the problem. You two go home and I’ll see you in an hour for lunch, yeah? I’ll even call in sick for the rest of the day and have what’s-her-name cover for me.”

“Fine,” Nikki pouted, “You promise?”

“I promise, lover,” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently, “But I promise nothing if you two don’t get out and let me get some work done.”

“C’mon, Sixx,” Tommy huffed and leaned down to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek, “See ya later, sweet thing.”

“Later, babes,” She smiled and waved goodbye as they left at last.

She sighed a sigh of deep relief and sank into her chair that sat behind the register. Finally she could take a breather and get some work done. Then the phone rang.

“Mötley residence, Mick speaking, can I please speak to Y/N?”

“Black Cat Records, Y/N speaking, what’s up, man?” She greeted.

“Are the boys still there?”

“Nope, just left. Why, did you need something?”

“No, no. They’ll be home soon enough, I’m sure. We’re having a band meeting later, though, and you need to be there, too.”

“Yeah, got it. Good news or bad news?”

“Little of both. Well, little bad, lot of good.”

“Okay, I’ll be off in a little under two hours and I told the boys I’d call in for the rest of the afternoon. See ya later, Mars man.”

“See ya later, Terror Triplet.”

She chuckled at the name and hung up. As she stuck price labels on a new shipment of records, she wondered what the news could be. The rest of the morning drug on slowly with few customers and boring music on the radio. No Mötley Crüe, that’s for sure. Finally, it was time for the lunch break. Y/N made a quick call before she left.

“Hey, Sylvia? Can you cover me this afternoon? Yeah, yeah, band stuff, you know. Yeah, I’ll tell the boys you said hello. Thanks, hun, I owe you one.”

She was lucky her coworker picked up and was even luckier she agreed to cover her. Even though her boys annoyed her, she still couldn’t wait to go home to them. Y/N was also anxious about Mick’s news. There was so much on her mind that she couldn’t even pay attention to the Blondie song that was on the radio as she drove to the Mötley residence. She climbed through the window of the apartment to find all of the boys laying around the living room in various states of undress.

“Why are you all half naked?” She snickered.

“It’s hot as balls, babe. Our AC broke, I think,” Tommy whined.

“Did you hit it?”

“A little,” Vince sighed, “It didn’t help.”

Y/N hummed to herself and went to the other window, kicking the air conditioning unit as hard as she could, to no avail.

“Damn, that usually works. Oh well, is there cold drinks in the fridge?”

“Yeah, Vinnie went grocery shopping today. We got beer, Diet Coke, bitchy wine cooler things, and some other shit,” Nikki replied, fanning himself with a random piece of sheet music.

She kicked off her shoes and shirt and grabbed a Coke from the fridge, sitting on the floor between Nikki’s legs and leaning her head on his thigh.

“Why are you wearing these leather pants, babe? Aren’t they hot?”

“Fashion before function, sweetheart,” The bassist shrugged.

“So Mick,” Tommy piped up, “What’s your big news?”

The guitarist sat up in his chair, and cleared his throat.

“Good news first. Do you guys remember that Zutaut kid?”

“Dorky rugby shirt?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one. He talked it over with Electra and called today saying they want to sign us as soon as possible.”

The boys and Y/N erupted in a chorus of whoops and hell-yeahs.

“So what’s the bad news? I don’t think anything can sting after that,” Nikki grinned.

Vince shifted uncomfortably before addressing the rhythm section and their lady love.

“Nikki, Tommy, Y/N, let me start by saying we love that you guys are happy together. But me and Mick feel that you’re letting this relationship consume you a little too much. Nikki, you’ve been letting Tommy get away with murder during practices. Tommy, you’re going soft with Sixx and Y/N, man. And Y/N, you’re our manager, but you’ve been devoting more of your time to the guys than the band as a whole. You should have been the one to talk to Electra and tell us we’re getting signed, you know? But we’ve been having to pick up the slack and that sucks.”

The trio nodded guiltily. They knew their priorities were a bit skewed as of late. Y/N had been meaning to call Electra for days, Tommy had been slacking and not taking his position as second in command seriously, and Nikki was too in love to whip Tommy into shape again. It wasn’t fair to Mick and Vince, and they knew that.

“Yeah, I mean us being together makes us happy, but maybe we should’ve considered if it would be good for the band,” Tommy sighed.

“Maybe taking a break would be the best thing for the band,” Y/N mused, words soaked in sorrow.

“Hey, no! You don’t have to take a break from each other, just even out your priorities a little more, you know?” Mick offered, “Tommy still acts like a ten year old but has more grown up moments since you guys started this. Nikki broods less and the creative juices really seem to be flowing. And you seem really content, and me and Vince don’t want to take that from you. You just needed to be straightened out. It’s cool, just focus on the band more, okay?”

The three nodded and sighed in relief. Y/N excused herself to go lie down because it had been a long day, and Nikki followed. Tommy would have, but insisted that Nikki’s bedroom was too stuffy for the Los Angeles heat with no air conditioner. The bassist opened the window in his bedroom to allow for some air flow as the manager removed her shirt and pants to lie down on the dark sheets.

“Were you serious when you talked about us taking a break?” Nikki asked, sitting on the floor beside the bed.

“Only half. If it would be better for the band, I think we could all agree on it. But it would kill me not to be with you and T-Bone anymore,” She whispered.

“Yeah, I get it. I don’t think I could go back to not being with you two dumbasses,” He cracked a smirk, “The bed’s too big without a couple extra warm bodies next to me.”

“I bet you’d write some killer breakup songs, though. Everybody loves a heartbreak,” She joked, fanning herself with a magazine from the table.

“I wouldn’t love this heartbreak,” Nikki sighed, leaning his head on the mattress, inches away from hers.

She took the memo and kissed him deeply before the sounds of chaos erupted from the living room.

“Damn it, Tommy! Don’t drink all the beer!” Vince whined, “Grab another one and I’ll... I’ll shoot you with a staple gun!”

“Did you leave your bag out there?” Nikki whispered.

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed.

“Is your staple gun from the store in it?”

“Mhm, wh—“

There was a metallic pop, followed by shouting.

“FUCK, BLONDIE! YOU MISSED MY EYE BY AN INCH!” Tommy shrieked.

“HALF AN INCH!” Vince yelled back.

“Oh, fuck,” The couple in the bedroom sighed in unison, before going out to join back in the chaos.

Tag list: @jayprettymuchomw @kayladurin @crazysaladchopshop @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @loveofmyloif @saints-of-the-universe @tommyfuckinlee @oh-well1 @cranberribread @princesadeltoro @prostidudes-for-justice @miriampraez @tarahell @n-osebleed @valentines-in-london @bohemian-war @cuntlord0606 @holding-on-to-my-youth @abbysdogcollar @deacontaylormercurymay @fuckyeah-motleycrue

[asterythm]

A is for Amour || As We Find The Pieces (10)

Pairings: Slow burn Logicality, eventual Prinxiety (also bonus Cartoon Therapy Corne for this chapter!!) Word Count: 4.9k Chapter Summary: Chapter ten seems like the perfect time to set some friendly matchmaking into motion, wouldn't you agree? (Patton certainly might, if he didn't have so much respect for the fourth wall.) Chapter Warnings: food, caps lock, alcoholism mention, neglectful parenting mention

<< First Chapter || < Previous Chapter || Read this chapter on AO3

***

"Patton. Patton. Paaaaaattonnnnn...”

The owner of the name in question barely blinked in acknowledgement of the beckoning voice; eyes seemingly fixated on an invisible point on the air, the only indication that he was alive at all was the movement of his jaw as he chewed thoughtfully on a handful of pretzel sticks. 

“Patton? Hello? Foley!” 

Moments after the last word, a tiny, greasy object launched across the table to smear against the lens of Patton’s glasses, jolting the boy back to reality at long last. “Huh? What?” Patton looked around in confusion, first at the french fry in his lap, then across the table at Sloane, whose arm was already rearing back to throw another. “Hey!”

Sloane grinned, triumphant. “There he is. Welcome back to the land of the living, ya goof.” The second fry bounced uselessly off the side of Patton’s head.

“What was that for? I’m already listening!”

“Just making sure.”

Next to Patton, Valerie shovelled a spoonful of chocolate pudding into her mouth before giving Patton a big grin. “So what had you so distracted there, Mister Plato?” she teased, poking the plastic spoon in Patton’s direction.

“Oh, you know… just thinking,” was the vague reply, delivered offhandedly as he glanced at the empty spot beside Sloane. Contrary to his previous protest, he still seemed distracted. “Where did Corbin go?”

“Bathroom, I think. Or maybe he just got tired of waiting for you to tell us what you were thinking about,” said Valerie, tossing any semblance of subtlety out the window with a raise of her brows. There was an expectant lull in the conversation as the two friends waited for Patton to fill them in. When it became clear that he wasn’t about to, she turned to Sloane with a roll of her eyes. “Guess we have to figure this out on our own. Hmm, let’s see. What new factors have entered Patton’s life recently that could be distracting him this much?”

Sloane caught the meaningful lilt in his feisty friend’s voice without missing a beat. “Well, I can think of at least one thing. One person, to be precise.” He tapped his chin with another fry, pretending to think hard. “What was his name again?”

“Leonard? Liam? Maybe Luke? Something with an L. Cute tutor guy, right? The one with the swoopy hair and —”

“And dreamy eyes —”

“Okay, alright, fine! Enough!” broke in Patton, red as a tomato. “First of all, his name is Logan, okay? Which I know you know — Sloane, he’s in the same grade as you, for crying out loud!” 

Sloane, to his credit, at least had the decency to pretend to be sheepish, even if his best efforts couldn’t mask the impish gleam in his eye. The same could not be said of Valerie. “So you were thinking about him!” she said, triumphant. “Damn, I’m good.”

“Um, actually, no. For once.” The tips of his ears had begun reverting to their regular shade for a moment, but now the bright red glow returned, twice as strong as before. The words hanging on Patton’s lips couldn’t get out fast enough. “I mean, don’t get me wrong — I’ll be the first to admit that he does have just the cutest hair and eyes, and he’s super smart, which is obviously a plus, and it’s so adorable the way that he’s always adjusting his glasses and necktie as if they’re not already perfectly in line with the rest of his outfit — hey, speaking of, have you noticed how you never see him wear the same necktie twice? Where is he even getting those things from? D’you think he might have some kind of secret necktie stash or—?”

“Patton. Breathe.”

“Right, okay, sorry, I... yeah." Patton clamped his lips together as he sucked in a huge breath through his nose, grateful for the timely reminder. What were we talking about again?

“You’re still avoiding the question,” supplied Valerie. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. If it’s not thoughts of cute necktie tutor guy distracting you, then...?” 

“Oh! Well, I don��t think I’ve mentioned this to you guys yet, but there’s this one really nice guy who works at the library where Logan and I meet up for our sessions. His name is Virgil. Super sweet guy, really cool nails.”

“Aha!” Valerie leaned forward. “So Logan’s getting some competition now, is that it?”

Patton laughed freely at that. “Oh, no — ha! — no way. He’s, like, twenty years old; pretty much the same as Roman, probably. No, we’re just friends. At least,” he added, furrowing his brow, “I think we’re friends. He seems pretty shy, though, and we’ve only really talked twice, so maybe he doesn’t actually consider me a friend yet?”

“Acquaintances, then.”

“Sure. Close acquaintances. Anyway, we were having a pretty nice chat while I was waiting for my mom to come pick me up from my session yesterday. He kind of fell asleep halfway through, but —”

“Back up,” Sloane interrupted, “fell asleep?” At Patton’s nod: “Sheesh, man. I thought you said he was this ‘super sweet person’.” He made little air quotes with his fingers as he spoke. “Checking out mid-chat doesn’t exactly scream sweetness. You’re sure you’re not just too nice to realize his true colours or whatever?”

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t jump to conclusions yet. I was just about to get to that. See, the poor guy had an absolutely exhausting day yesterday. He told me all about it after his, uh, energy crash. Because I invited him to, not because he just decided on his own to go ahead and dump his worries on me,” Patton added as he saw Sloane readying another protest. “But, see, here’s the thing: I don’t think that the whole streak of bad luck was the only reason for Virgil’s stormy mood yesterday. I mean, maybe I’m just overthinking, but both times I’ve talked to him so far, he’s just had this kind of… permanent tiredness. Not as in I-want-to-take-a-nap tired. This feels way deeper than that. Almost hollow.

“You should see the way Virgil carries himself. His shoulders are always curled in, for one, like if he makes himself smaller, the empty whateverness inside of him will get smaller too. And he keeps his hands really close to his chest when he’s not typing or knitting or something, like he always needs to be ready to shield himself from someone trying to reach in and tear that hole any larger. And he never smiles without ducking his head a little, as if...”

Noticing for the first time since he’d begun his strange monologue how blank his friends’ faces had grown, Patton trailed off sheepishly. 

“You know what? Never mind,” he dismissed. “I didn’t mean for that to get so heavy. Sorry. Um, so yeah.” Patton shifted in his seat uncomfortably he continued while he turned to address Valerie, who was so lost that her eyes were fixed on a point above Patton’s head as she tried to understand.

“Patton, if I may…”

Oh, wait. So that’s what Valerie was staring at! Hearing the new voice join their conversation, Patton turned around with a delighted smile. “Corbin, you’re back!” he cheered, all thoughts of holes in chests disappearing to the back of his mind as he leapt to his feet to greet the new arrival.

“Oh my g— you’re just as bad as Sloane,” grumbled Corbin in response before sliding back into his spot next to his boyfriend. Contrary to the studious disinterest he’d been feigning at first, Corbin couldn’t resist giving Sloane a quick but affectionate smooch on the cheek. He waited until his arm was wrapped securely around his boyfriend’s shoulder before continuing, the sting of his words somewhat dampened by the way Sloane was already nestling into the crook of his arm, almost purring in contentment. “Seriously, do none of you have any chill? At all? I was gone for less than five minutes.” 

“Sure, but I missed you!” Patton said with a pout.

“Looks like you didn’t miss my pretzel sticks,” shot back Corbin, gesturing to the now-empty container in the middle of the table. “That was basically full when I left!”

“Sorry, Corbin,” chorused the three friends, not sounding sorry in the slightest. 

“Yeah, yeah, save it. Anyway,” continued Corbin, turning to Patton, “I couldn’t help but overhear your desperate plight.”

“He means he was eavesdropping.”

Corbin lifted an eyebrow at his boyfriend’s interruption. “It’s not eavesdropping if I would have been a part of the conversation in the first place anyway!”

“Mm, not how it works.”

“You shush or I’m taking this arm away.” Taking Sloane’s protesting whine as a sign of surrender, Corbin returned his attention to his cousin. “Patton, I totally get where you’re coming from. I think that this library guy just needs a friend.”

Patton’s forehead creased. “A friend? But I’ve already been trying to be his friend!”

“Yeah, but… look, obviously, it’s great that you’re already spending time with this guy —”

“Virgil.”

“— sure — spending time with Virgil after your sessions. Super thoughtful of you. But honestly, you know as well as I do that half an hour of small talk twice a week is hardly enough time to really get to know someone.” Corbin idly messed with Sloane’s hair as he spoke. “Not that I don’t think those half-hours are helping — I’m sure they are! I just… you said that he’s older than us, right?”

Still listening attentively, Patton nodded. “A few years.”

“Well, then, maybe you could try introducing him to someone else around the same age. Someone with a little more control over their own schedule than a high school student would have. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

“Uh… sure do.” Patton did not.

A fact which did not escape his cousin’s notice. Corbin exhaled. “Alright, here’s the thing. It’s not that I doubt your ability to befriend someone older than you. I know you, Patton, you could probably make friends with a rock if you put your mind to it. Actually, scratch that — you have made friends with a rock, haven’t you? Remember Percy and Pierre, your ‘twin’ pebbles from when you were in, what, grade two?”

In spite of himself, Patton laughed. He remembered, all right. “Pretty sure I might have paid more attention to the well-being of those rocks than I did to myself.”

“Okay, yeah, see? That’s my point exactly. You’re a really friendly, caring, all-around great guy — impossible not to like. But if I’ve learned anything from all those post-secondary preparation lectures they make you attend in twelfth grade, it’s that uni students’ schedules and high school ones don’t always mix; they might be busy in the mornings and evenings with classes and work, but have most of their afternoon open, or vice versa. It’s a mess.” Corbin shrugged. “Hey, if anyone could make a friendship thrive under those weird hours, it’s you. But I still think it might be a better idea to find someone who’s around the same age as this Virgil guy.”

While Patton thoughtfully processed his cousin’s suggestion, the table lapsed into comfortable silence for a spell. Across the table, Valerie finished the last of her chicken and rice. It was as she was screwing the lid back onto her thermos that a question appeared to hit her. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Valerie had to give voice to her curiosity: “Hey, Corbin, it seems like you really know what you’re talking about. If it’s alright to ask, why is that? Are you speaking from experience, or...?”

She trailed off as both she and Patton noticed the worried expression Sloane now wore. He shifted on the cafeteria bench to glance up at Corbin. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to,” he murmured.

“No, it’s fine.” Corbin punctuated his words with another bite of his apple, which he took his time chewing, carefully formulating his answer before swallowing to speak again: “When I first entered ninth grade — so, two years ago, you and Pat would’ve still been in seventh — I was... going through a bit of a rough patch. That was around the time my dad packed his stuff, and a few weeks later, my mother started to drink. A lot more than she should have, probably. 

“Patton, you might remember that we weren’t at the family reunion that Christmas. That’s because neither of us were in any shape to go to a party; things had gotten really messy at home, to the point where I was skipping school almost every day to make sure she didn’t — uh, to take care of her.” Corbin rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Long, long, long story short? First semester of high school was not a great time.”

Valerie blew out her cheeks. “That... sucks, Corbin. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well. Things got better.” Down came Corbin’s hand as he glanced at Sloane, whose head hadn’t moved from Corbin’s shoulder since he sat down. The moment his eyes fell on his boyfriend’s face, it was almost as if Patton could see his walls coming down, too. “And believe it or not, the improvement began in History class, of all possible places.”

“Our teacher’s seating plan put us next to each other.”

“I was trying to get some dramatic buildup going there, but… yeah, basically. My home situation was a little better by second semester, so I started coming to class more often. Sloane moved from Clivesdale right around the same time. As luck would have it, he wound up next to me for homeroom. The fresh transfer and the kid who never came to school. Probably the only thing we had in common besides a similar desk arrangement was the fact that neither of us had any friends, though not for lack of trying on Sloane’s part.”

“I baked cookies for everyone my second week there! Cookies, and no one besides Corbin even tried one!”

“Dang, so that’s how your whole love story began? Cookies?” quipped Valerie. “Those must’ve been some good baked goods.”

Corbin snorted. “No. I mean, yeah, they were good cookies, but it would have taken a tray a day to break through the angst-barriers shielding me from the rest of the world back then. No, it was that dumb A Moment in Time project. You know, the one where you and a partner have to prepare a full-length presentation to ‘transform the classroom’ and ‘take your peers back’ to a decade they assign you?”

Patton nodded. He remembered it well. 

“Man, I have no idea where they come up with this stuff. Anyway, the point is, being the only ones in the class who had no pre-established connections with any other classmates, the two of us were kind of forced to partner up through process of elimination.” The last of Corbin’s apple slices gone, he paused to slide the container back into his lunchbox. 

Sloane picked up the narrative where he’d left off: “I ended up inviting Corbin over to my house, I think about two days before the deadline? I told him it was to put some finishing touches on our Swing in the Roaring Twenties poster, but honestly, I just wanted to get to know him a little better.”

“We both knew it was an excuse—”

“He never suspected a thing.”

“I absolutely did.”

“Not a clue. Nada. There’s a reason they call me Sloane the slick.”

“No one calls you that,” insisted Corbin. “Besides, I knew all along. Our posters had been done for a week.”

Sloane gave Corbin a playful nudge. “Then why’d you agree to come, hmm?”

“I guess... because a part of me didn’t hate the idea of having a friend,” Corbin had to concede. “Actually, I’m not sure what I was expecting to get out of our little meeting, but a total mental breakdown at a near-stranger’s house definitely wasn’t it. Took both of us by surprise. I’m… still not entirely sure why it happened.” 

Patton had his suspicions; he’d met Sloane’s mother before, and she was the epitome of sweet and affectionate. His voice softened. “Aw, Corbs.” 

To his surprise, though, Corbin smiled. “There I was, a snivelling mess on the carpet of a guy who until then had been a friendly acquaintance at best, but instead of judging me or getting uncomfortable, Sloane just… sat with me. Listened. And eventually, gave me comfort when I was ready for it. That’s where this quote-’love story’ began, Valerie — having someone to lean on was so helpful in getting me through the rest of the year, and by the time my mom finally cleaned up her act, our relationship had long since moved from partners in History class to, well, partners in just about every other sense.” 

“Corbin’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Sloane added. “Man’s witty, sweet, and so easy to talk to it’s stupid. All I really wanted after transferring here was a casual friend or two. Corbin turned out to be way more than that; he’s been my rock. My loneliness-b-gone, know what I’m sayin’? Nothing can mess with my funky flow when he’s around.”

“Hey, Sloane?” 

“Yeah?”

The corners of Corbin’s eyes crinkled affectionately. “That didn’t make any sense.”

***

By the third time the lead on the tip of his pencil snapped off, Patton could no longer ignore the voice in his head telling him to just give up for the night. He pushed his homework to the side and closed his eyes in a lazy attempt to calm the headache that had been steadily growing over the past half hour. This effort — if you could even call it that — proved futile; the image of the trigo-whatsit cosine graph he’d been staring at moments before was burned firmly in his mind’s eye. If he focused hard enough, he could even make out a colourful impression of the curvy lines faintly floating against the dark backdrop his eyelids provided. 

Patton yawned, wishing he hadn’t left his math homework for last. Talk about not making sense.

The bizarre pseudo-graph starting to psych him out, Patton opened his eyes back up with a yawn. His gaze landed on something bright blue: the cat-eared case of his phone, lying face down on the other side of his little desk so as not to distract him from the homework he was supposed to be doing. 

Fat lot of good that had done him. He’d been eyeing the thing all evening. 

Try as he might, Patton couldn’t get his lunchtime conversation with his friends out of his mind. Corbin’s story in particular had given him a lot to think about regarding Virgil’s predicament, and it hadn’t been very long after when Patton realized he knew exactly what to do. The answer was blindingly obvious in hindsight, really. 

Admittedly, he had yet to actually act upon his “master plan” — he’d been pushing the thing aside in favor of trying to make sense of his math work for most of the day. But now that Patton had, er, selflessly decided to sacrifice the completion of said work for the greater good, nothing was left to stand in his way.

Except possibly a lack of cooperation, but he could cross that bridge when he came to it.

After the briefest of internal debates, Patton’s hand reached out to make contact with something bright blue. Moments later, the brightness of a phone screen lit his features from below:

TheJollyJollyFoley (7:59pm): rooo

TheJollyJollyFoley (7:59pm): romannnn

TheJollyJollyFoley (7:59pm): roman my mannnnnnn

TheJollyJollyFoley (7:59pm): heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

le-petty-prince (8:00pm): Sorry I was just watching the clock change from 7:59 to 8

le-petty-prince (8:00pm): What can I do for you pattington bear?

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:00pm): ooh new nickname :DDD

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:01pm): anyways i just wanted to ask a question for science reasons

le-petty-prince (8:01pm): Well that sounds completely normal and not at all suspicious even the slightest amount! Ask away, O Vaguely Cryptic One

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:02pm): you ever wish you had friends

le-petty-prince (8:02pm): ???

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:02pm): wait no that came out weird let me try again

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:03pm): “how would you like to add a new friend to to your already existing large roster of many cool and awesome friends” <<< pretend thats what i said the first time pls

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:07pm): u still there?

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:12pm): hello?

When a few more minutes of waiting yielded no response, Patton’s brow furrowed. What if he had accidentally offended his older brother? 

Just as he was seriously starting to worry he’d blown it, though, his phone vibrated in his hands:

le-petty-prince (8:21pm): Sorry. Back. Monet says hi

le-petty-prince (8:21pm): Anyway!! Im intrigued!

With a sigh of relief, Patton tapped out his instinctive response:

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:21pm): hi intrigued im pat ;))

le-petty-prince (8:22pm): Funny

le-petty-prince (8:22pm): Now call me crazy but something tells me there was a little more than ordinary curiosity motivating this Friend Roster Expansion hypothetical

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:23pm): science reasons, roman, i told you

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:23pm): ..but yeah also another less sciencey thing

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:23pm): well i guess he could be sciencey? V was playing minesweeper last time we talked which seems like a smart-people kind of game but idk where exactly it would fall on the spectrum of scienciness

le-petty-prince (8:24pm): To be fair, its gotta take great courage to play minesweeper in public. Whoever this V person is, I deem them worthy of my respect

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:24pm): i assure you it was a very cool and respectable thing

le-petty-prince (8:24pm): In that case, I would be honoured to meet such an indisputably Cool Guy

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:25pm): !!! YESS

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:25pm): ok so i was thinking you and V could maybe meet up over coffee or something? theres this one really cute place that opened up recently, best cronuts youll ever taste <33

le-petty-prince (8:26pm): Ngl cronuts sound EXQUISITE right now

le-petty-prince (8:26pm): Why dont you send me their contact and I can try to schedule something, say next week?

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:26pm): ooh uh

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:27pm): thats the thing

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:27pm): i kind of dont really have any of V’s contact info BUT!! he works at the library so i’ll see him on friday and i can set up a time and place for you two then!!

le-petty-prince (8:28pm): Hmmhm

le-petty-prince (8:28pm): Funky circumstances but I trust your judgement! If you like V this much then Im sure he must be a real grand guy, I cannot wait to meet him!!!

le-petty-prince (8:29pm): Oh shoot sorry I need to go, Ive got a date to get ready for. Im super into this though so we can work out the details tomorrow, capiche?

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:29pm): caposh~

TheJollyJollyFoley (8:30pm): be safe!! dont have TOOOO much fun ;)))

le-petty-prince (8:33pm): Pfft. Bye dingus

***

“I just don’t get it!”

“Heard you the first time, bud,” quipped Valerie through a wry smile and a bite of celery. “You’re absolutely sure you didn’t… I don’t know, misinterpret something?”

“Yeah, I — no! Maybe?” Patton first tossed his phone onto the cafeteria table, then his hands into the air, frustrated. “I just don’t know why the sudden change in heart, Val. You know?”

“Who knows?”

“I know!”

“Okay, no. Press pause.” All eyes at the table turned to Corbin, who in turn was squinting through his glasses at Patton. “Guys, I’m barely following. Could you maybe explain what’s going on one more time?”

“Alright, you remember how I was telling you about Virgil yesterday? Lonely librarian guy? And you told everyone your and Sloane’s backstory and recommended I play friend-Cupid and all that jazz, right?” At Corbin’s nod: “Well, I tried it with Roman, and everything seemed to be going just peachy last night. He seemed really excited! But now all of a sudden… well, here.” Patton retrieved his phone to show his tablemates the messages. “Look.” 

le-petty-prince (11:12am): As I was saying though: I do hate to rain on your parade but to be frank I think Im uhh

le-petty-prince (11:13am): Good? Friendwise I mean

le-petty-prince (11:13am): Real sweet of you to reach out though

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:13am): wait what? really??

le-petty-prince (11:14am): Sorry there are just so many complications

le-petty-prince (11:15am): Im unbelievably busy these days, for one

le-petty-prince (11:15am): So so busy

le-petty-prince (11:15am): Student life, man. Busy with college

le-petty-prince (11:15am): Essays and stuff

le-petty-prince (11:16am): Look frankly I hardly even get to see my other friends anymore, if I went through with this the chances are pretty good that Id meet him for cronuts or whatever this one time and then never find time to hang out with him again

le-petty-prince (11:16am): Which just seems boorish. It would probably do more harm than good for poor V frankly

The last text appeared as Patton’s friends were still reading; with a frown, Valerie handed Patton’s phone back to him. “He is acting kind of weird.”

“Right? I’ve got to get to the bottom of this.” Patton looked up at his friends apologetically. “Is it okay with you guys if I text at the table today?”

An indifferent shrug was his response. “Go nuts, man.”

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:17am): hey ro? can i be straight with you for a sec?

le-petty-prince (11:18am): Good luck with that

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:18am): -_-

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:18am): no points for the gay joke today, however tasteful it may have been. serious business here

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:18am): roman, what changed your mind really?

le-petty-prince (11:19am): Huh

le-petty-prince (11:19am): Wdym

le-petty-prince (11:19am): Didnt I just say? Haha

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:20am): mm i dont think you did

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:20am): you keep talking about “complications” and youre using the word “frankly” a lot and i know for a fact that you only ever use those words when youre hiding somethin

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:21am): nice try though!! but i did grow up in the same house as you did so im gonna need you to give it another go

le-petty-prince (11:22am): I dont know why youre being so weird about this pat

le-petty-prince (11:23am): I mean sheesh maybe I really am busy okay?

le-petty-prince (11:23am): And for the record that maybe is actually a resounding REALLY

le-petty-prince (11:23am): Look see I didnt even say anything to do with frankness that time! Absolutely zero traces of frank in this honest fellows messages right now

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:24am): -___-

le-petty-prince (11:24am): Frank? Whos that? Dont ask roman, he wouldnt be able to answer you!!

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:24am): -_______-

le-petty-prince (11:25am): Okay sorry youre right Im done

le-petty-prince (11:25am): Seriously though I dont understand how this warrants such a fuss? I just thought it over some more and realized it would actually be a bad idea to meet V for aforementioned reasons, et cetera et cetera. Why does that have to be such a big deal

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:26am): i…

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:26am): okay youre right i dont really know

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:26am): i guess this is just a really quick turnaround and it doesnt seem like something youd typically do??

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:27am): i mean you were all for it yesterday. you said, and i quote, “I cannot wait to meet him!!!”

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:27am): THREE exclamation marks and all!!! 

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:28am): besides, maybe college is busy but theres no reason you should be any busier now than youve always been and

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:28am): whew. sorry for being pushy. i didnt mean to sound like i dont respect your choice, ig im disappointed is all :(

le-petty-prince (11:29am): No thats ok

le-petty-prince (11:30am): Ill tell you what. You said youd see V on friday right? And todays thursday.

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:30am): uh

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:30am): yeah..

le-petty-prince (11:31am): So hows this: Ill think it over some more during rehearsal this evening, and if I have another change of heart Ill get back to you tomorrow.

TheJollyJollyFoley (11:31am): !!!!!!!!

le-petty-prince (11:32am): Its still not a yes!! 

le-petty-prince (11:32am): But… consider me solidly in Maybe territory.

le-petty-prince (11:32am): Capiche?

***

The majority of “tomorrow” had come and gone, and Patton still had yet to hear from his brother. 

He’d been glued to his phone all day, checking his messages with a near-obsessive frequency in hopes that Roman might text him to say he’d come to his senses after all… but as Patton buckled into the passenger seat of his mother’s tan SUV on its way to the library, he had to admit the odds were getting pretty slim. 

His mother, misinterpreting his solemn expression, shot him a quizzical glance out of the corner of her eye. “I thought you said the tutoring was going well.”

Before Patton could answer her, a quiet chime sounded from within his backpack — barely audible, but Patton’s ears had been piqued for it all day. Instantly, he scrambled to retrieve the bright blue source of the sound, perking up as he saw the screen was already illuminated. As Patton read over the contents of the notification, a wide grin spread across his face.

“Yeah,” Patton said out loud, addressing his mother with his words even as his fingers were already moving to type out a reply to someone else. “Tutoring’s great.”

le-petty-prince (3:44pm): Ah, what the hell. Im in.

***

A/N: me, rushing in more than a month late, starbucks cup in one hand and this update in the other: HEY GUYS DONT FORGET TO LIKE COMMENT AND RING TH -- wait where did everyone go

for real though, i'm so so sorry about how long this mediocre chapter took to go up!! this was the first chapter that i HADN'T finished the rough draft stage of during nanowrimo, and i huuuugely underestimated how long the unfinished portion would turn out to be. couple that with this weird writer's block that's been following me around wherever i go for a little over three months, and, well... you'll end up with this ^^; thank you so much for sticking with me though, and i hope it was at least semi-worth the wait?

[next chapter]

General: @surleytemple @starryfirefliesbloggo @icecoldparadise @lyditist @fandom-random2405 @beach-fan @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @starryeyedhomicide @unring-this-bell @flix-net @pheonix-inside @thelowlysatsuma @residentanchor @sanderstalker @kazykazu @theres-no-winning-on-christmas @fandersfic-patton @fandersfic-roman @fandersfic-logicality @fandersfic-prinxiety

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[s-j-ace]

New Plan!

Characters: Shuichi Saihara, Ouma Kokichi

Words: 9,119

Summary:

Kokichi Ouma, leader of the mysterious group of thieves that go only by DICE, is going through the motions of orchestrating their biggest heist ever when an unexpected bump in the road changes everything. That bump in the road is a detective and his name is Shuichi Saihara.

Essentially the events of That’s the Thing About Airplanes from Kokichi’s POV

Read on AO3

Kokichi Ouma was ready to be bored out of his mind for the next eight hours as he boarded the flight behind his motley crew.  He was trying to keep himself busy by being generally exasperated with them. They were supposed to be posing as different family units or strangers that didn’t know one another, but King was supposed to be Rook’s uncle and they were touching each other’s butts while handing the lady their boarding passes. Bishop and Hearts were practically leaning on each other like they were tired or whatever, but they were supposed to be total strangers. Maybe they could be rewritten as half siblings or a whirlwind romance or something? Ugh whatever.

Kokichi would normally kick their asses about this, but he’d already anticipated their horrid 2 AM acting skills. The lady taking boarding passes was a plant. Jack had wriggled herself in as a flight attendant three days ago. She was currently taking boarding passes because of an understaffing issue. An issue that may or may not have been of natural causes... 

Anyway, she’d get on the flight and smuggle the tea on board. The heist plan didn’t really involve the plane at all, so this was kind of unnecessary, but god would he want that half-way to Paris hot tea party. Besides, he wasn’t really one to leave much to chance when it came to scheming. Although that characteristic was more out of habit than any sort of innate perfectionistic tendencies. He was a king of thinking on the fly, but nowadays he rarely ran amok in that court because he just so happened to also be just as much of a genius at premeditated mischief.

It was a good thing Jack had volunteered herself for the plant job. He’d call her the most competent of DICE at 2 AM if she hadn’t drawn a dick on his boarding pass while checking it.

“Wow, it’s almost like you’ve actually seen one, you virgin loser.” He had told her as he tucked the pass into his hoodie pocket. 

She smiled at him like he had complimented her handwriting or something inane like that. “Thanks! I’ve been working on my portraits. My boss is a real inspiration in my art you know…”

“I’d love to meet him someday,” Kokichi replied congenially, “He sounds handsome and brilliant and like he should always be listened to.”

She gave a thoughtful humm, “Actually he’s kind of a prick.” She blew a raspberry at him.

He frowned. “Well that’s rude,” he commented with an offended tone, “And out of character.” He shifted to an angrier persona. "Do you want to ruin everything?" Maybe it wasn’t entirely persona, he was a little tired too after all.

“Relax boss,” Jack said, looking at the screen in front of her with all the boarding information, “It says here you’re the last passenger.”

To be honest Kokichi’s concern-o-meter for this heist was in the negatives. He was pretty much bored by how well thought out this plan was, but he felt like he had to make a point and he was rarely ever honest besides.

Kokichi huffed moodily. “Yeah sure, but what if that detective from the smithsonian, like, stole the security camera footage from this airport or something totally plausible like that.”

He was kind of planning this conversation out a couple steps ahead. He did that sometimes, when he was bored. She’d refute him by calling the detective a goody-two-shoes or something and he’d say something about caution and she’d dismiss him and then something would pop up later where he could say ‘I told you so’ and re-establish his authority. The same happened when Ace wanted to prove how buff he was by lifting the mammoth bones from the Smithsonian. They'd had to stash it insecurely and the police got to it before they could come back for it later. That was a big ‘I told you so’ moment and as a result no one questioned him on his plans for the Louvre this time around.

Weirdly enough, his conversation forecast did not come to pass this time around.

Jack frowned, looking at the screen. “Hey, what was that guy’s name again? The guy from the Smithsonian.”

Kokichi frowned. “What, the mammoth?”

“No, like, the detective.”

Kokichi squinted at her. He was an evil mastermind, he could recall the exact angle of every laser scanner in the Louvre, of course he could remember the name of some guy. Shuichi Saihara. The novice detective whose dumb friend had tripped that allarm the night of the Smithsonian heist. They’d only had three minutes to get out with the picture frames and hide the mammoth because of him. The detective had showed up at a couple heists and had gotten in the paper, but honestly the mammoth thing was a bit of a fluke. They really hadn’t had a lot of time to stash it. Overall not a big deal.

Which was why it was weird that happy-go-lucky Jack of all people was bringing him up.

“What about him?”

“He’s, like, on the flight I think.” 

She showed him the screen and sure enough, Shuichi Saihara was sitting in economy class by the emergency exits. Well, it didn’t really say that on the screen, but given his seat number Kokichi could triangulate it from the diagram of the plane he had memorized. Not that he had really needed to that, but… wait… what if he did need to...

A light bulb went on in Kokichi’s head. In cartoons lightbulbs were just a little blink that meant a switch had flipped for a single eureka moment, but for Kokichi it was more like the real life current of electricity as all of the steps of a brand new heist plan tripped over each other to course through his mind. He forgot to be bored for a second as his brain was lit up with a new scheme and all the possible scenarios that could accompany it.

He had been missing this.

Something... unexpected.

Something... exciting.

Something... unnecessarily convoluted!

Jack took one look at his carefully not grinning face and groaned with exasperation. “Awww boss you ain’t changing the plan again are ya? You already wrote us like a 100 page novel about the first one…”

“Eh, fuck that plan.” Kokichi said doing some mental calculations, “Get me ten parachutes and see if Clubs has extra sleeping drugs I want you to put them in the passengers’ drinks. The strong stuff. Direct Queen towards the rooftop diagrams I shoved in his carry on. Tell me when it gets to be around 1:34 AM Paris time.”

She looked at him with annoyance at the sudden deluge of tasks. “Oh yeah, sure thing. And what are you going to do?”

He gave her his biggest, bestest, shit-eating-est grin. “Be myself, of course.”

Then he turned and boarded the plane, imagining and relishing in the weirded out look she was definitely giving him.

When he got to the entryway of the plane from the boarding hallway, he came upon Rook gossiping with one of the flight attendants. Kokichi heard something about a wedding and a honeymoon before Rook spotted him and excused themselves to find their seat.

“Good evening, sir.” The flight attendant said, still clearly coming off of the social high of talking about his personal happiness. Kokichi decided to slam him down from it, hard.

“It will now that I’m finally on the same damn plane as my husband.” He gave his best impression of a disgruntled everyman, which meant it was a great impression because his best was always great.

“R-right.” Ah yes, the security of making someone else feel socially awkward. Kokichi would make a great playground bully, that’s for sure. At least he was self aware. And putting his talents to good use! Bullying pseudo-law-enforcement was 100% valid according to all levels of morality.

As he walked down the aisle he noticed the rest of DICE ahead of him chattering like sparrows as they moved to the back of the plane. Originally they had planned to keep a low profile and have a pre-heist tea party before touching down in Paris, but now…

Kokichi spotted him, sure enough right by the emergency exits. He looked dead tired and about to doze off, so Kokichi took a second to make some quick observations he hadn’t gotten the chance to get on the night of the Smithsonian heist. The guy had this very detective-esque trench coat with lots of pockets, which was a shame because it meant that if Kokichi decided to pickpocket him he’d have trouble figuring out where his wallet was. Something that didn’t really fit Kokichi’s imaginings of a stereotypical detective, however was that the guy was around his own age in the mid twenties and didn’t seem like the grizzled gumshoe type at all. In fact he was kind of anti-grizzled. He had a boring pretty boy face like a model or something and instead of the full beard and square jaw Kokichi had half imagined any time the word “detective” came up in his mind’s eye he had eyeliner accentuating the only hair on his face and a very breakable looking face. Ok that was a very play ground bully thing to think. Except young people weren’t really as fun to bully as old people because they actually might be poor or emotionally insecure or something, which always made Kokichi feel a semblance of an emotion akin to guilt. But this guy was flying to Paris in the summer season and had been in America a couple weeks before, so fuck him basically. Didn’t he have a job or something?

Oh shit the guy was looking at him, how long had he been doing that?

Don't panic, analyze then act.

He seemed freaked. Probably because Kokichi had been staring at him for a couple seconds now. 

He put on a menacingly friendly grin and slipped into the seat next to the detective. Not the one in front of him, or one of the ones in his completely empty row, or even the aisle seat,  literally the one right next to him. He put his elbow on the armrest the detective had so kindly pulled down for him.

The guy still looked super freaked out, so Kokichi tried to shift his grin to the more congenial side of menacing.

“Hey, aren't you Shuichi Saihara?” He asked, extending his hand. He thought about coming up with a pseudonym but was too busy being delighted by the absolute terror on the detective’s face. “I'm your biiiggest fan.”

The guy shook his hand like it was the lever for his very own personal electric chair. Dramatic much?

It seemed to freak him out so Kokichi decided to run with the ‘biggest fan’ thread, chattering on, “I read aaall about that thing with the hairy elephant and the stupid ugly criminal you've been tracking.”

He would keep talking about the ironic impudence of this imaginary criminal but it really seemed like Saihara was having a dissociative episode while he was talking.

He frowned. That was kind of boring. “Hey are you like deaf or something?” That would be kind of extra boring because then Kokichi would be trying to bully a deaf dude and that would be lame. “Hey. Heyyyy. Earth to Shuichi Saihara.” Maybe he could thread some truth in here. “Geez I didn't expect you to be this boring in person…”

That seemed to get him.

Saihara shook his head like he was getting the dust out and stuttered out an "I-I-I'm sorry, what?"

Well maybe he had the soul of an old man, if not the looks of one, Kokichi thought to himself as he blithered on. “Have you been ignoring me? Not a very nice way to treat your biggest fans." He crossed his arms. "I, like, totally hate when heroes don't live up to your expectations."

Guy still looked half asleep… Maybe a change of scenery was in order… 

Kokichi noticed the chatty flight attendant from earlier coming down the aisle. It was time to act on his earlier framework...

He said something like “You can make it up to me,” but honestly even he wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying anymore. That was the only warning he gave before reaching over the detective to break his chair. If he had stopped to think about it, he might have thought it was awkward, but it wasn’t like he had to care about what this guy thought. He was going to leave him on the plane and probably never see him again.

Kokichi held himself back from giggling when the detective toppled over backwards.

“Oh no!” He feigned surprise, “How could this happen?”

"What happens to be the problem here gentlemen?" The flight attendant asked right on cue.

Saihara was looking pretty dubious but also not that talkative so Kokichi thought about the right words to spin this.

Distract. You’re the threat here, Kokichi.

"What's the problem? You're asking me what the problem is?" He shifted his tone to that of a white soccer mom used to getting what she wants. "The problem, good sir, is that this Rusty bucket of bolts you call an airplane just tried to give my husband a concussion! I could sue for this, you know."

The flight attendant broke easy.

"I'm so, so sorry sir." He quibbled. "Here, we'll make it up to you. It's a long flight and we don't have many guests so I can upgrade you both to first class with no additional charge."

Kokichi gave a rather hearty harrumph. Not bad as far as harrumphs go.

"You better. Or my lawyer will be hearing about this."

Hah. If Kokichi tried to talk to a lawyer he’d probably get arrested. Small claims lawyers were like cops but with even less spine and more capitalistic tendencies in his book.

The flight attendant didn’t seem to care about the rot of society, though, and tarried forth to first class. Saihara hadn’t quite caught on yet, so Kokichi grabbed his arm. For some reason he didn’t expect the detective to be so draggable. Detectives just didn’t seem that way. Like they could be dragged, but Saihara seemed too tired and confused to not be dragged. Thrilling! Boring. Okay okay don’t get ahead of the horses here. Horses? Uh.

First class was more Kokichi’s style. He let Saihara shuffle into the window seat so he’d be able to keep a look out for Jack’s signals in the aisle. 

"Let me know if there's anything else I can do to help you." The flight attendant said as Kokichi sat down.

Ugh it’s like he actually cared about his job or something. Being in customer service must be insufferable. 

Kokichi didn’t actually want to harrass this asshole when there was a perfectly good fake cop right next to him, so he replied with an apologetic smile, “Of course. Ah, I'm so rry for causing so much trouble, it's just the honeymoon you see and everything just has to be perfect, you know?”

"No, it's quite alright, I understand completely." The flight attendant seemed to relax a little, “I went through the same trouble with my husband. Really let me know if I can help you at all.”

Droll. “Thanks sooo much!" he intoned gratefully. He turned to Saihara who still looked like he was in shock. "Wasn't he just the nicest Shuichi?"

Saihara blinked at him. "... If you had enough money to hire a lawyer that could sue an airline so frivolously then you would've already been in first class."

Hey! That sounded like something a detective would say!

"I'm just stingy." Hah. Beat that logic. Nice one Kokichi.

Saihara squinted like he was about to bless Ouma with another brilliant deduction. 

"... Did you sit next to me so you could convince that gay flight attendant to put you in first class?"

Wow!!! He was thinking!!! He was totally wrong but at least he was trying.

"I can't believe you figured it out!" Kokichi did his best impression of a widow revealing a dark secret on prime time television. "It's true…Detective Saihara I was lying about being married to you the whole time. I thought you knew..."

"Wha- of course I knew that!" Saihara sputtered.

"Oh! How can you ever forgive me?" The flight attendant was definitely out of range by now so this seemed like a good time for some melodramatic tears. "Waah!"

"H-hey! Stop that." Wow what a bad detective. Is that how you comfort people? Sad.

Kokichi was about to weep even more for the loss of chivalry when the asshole shoved something at him. Was that… a handkerchief? This guy just had a handkerchief? Is that not something that only people in movies do? 

Weird.

Kokichi snatched it from him, exclaiming, “"Oh wow! What a gentlemanly thing to do!"

He proceeded to make his most grotesque snot noises imaginable.

“A-are you alright?” The detective stuttered out.

Kokichi pondered a couple iterations of “no, and it’s your fault” before deciding that was boring and saying “Perfectly fine.” He flicked out the handkerchief and held it a bit to make sure Shuichi noticed it was clean before tucking it in his pockets. “Just a liar is all.”

"A-a liar?"

Kokichi frowned at him. "No, where did you hear that?" He made an expression of disgust. “Ick, I hate liars after all.” He put on his manic pixie dream girl sees a light bulb for a first time look. “That's why I'm such a big fan of yours, Shuichi.”

"I-is that so?" Ah, the panic of a person unprepared for social interaction at two am was a sight for sore eyes. “Um.” Or maybe it said nothing of Ouma’s own skill that this guy was an awkward glob. "Y-you seem to know my name, but, uh, what's yours?"

A question! An inquiry! One for which Kokichi had the perfect answer....

"Kaito Momota."

“What.” 

Wow! What a flat tone Saihara had! Almost like he didn’t believe him or something absurd like that.

Kokichi waved his hands dismissively. "I know, I know, isn't that the name of your friend who was in the paper? That's why I read it, by the way," he said matter of factly. "Because we have the same name."

Ugh, he was adding too much supporting detail. That’s something bad liars do and he wasn’t a bad liar. He was the best liar. Accept no substitutions. Unless they were really good at lying about being a substitution… then they would probably be the best liar… 

Ok whatever ranking of liar he was it was probably good enough to fool-

"... I-is that another lie?"

Ah fuck.

"Neeheehee… ya caught me." Best to bail early on this kind of thing. "If you guess my real name by the end of the flight I'll give you a prize!"

"Like Rumplestiltskin?"

Really? Was his own charade getting that cartoonish already?

“Aww man. You guessed it the first try. That's no fun.” Logically this was boring but he was doing okay as far as airplanes went. "I guess now you'll just have to guess my second, less cool, real name instead."

As great as he was at being evasive in all situations why was the subject not changed by now.

"... Honestly I'd much rather be sleeping through this flight." The detective rubbed his face, and Kokichi noticed the darker shades of his eyelids weren’t all eyeliner. He must have business. Something that was keeping him up at night.

Kokichi determined some short term goals for this conversation. Find out why the detective was going to Paris was primary among them. That information would narrow down his field of options for how to spend the rest of the flight.

Kokichi scoffed. “Why would anyone get on a flight to Paris at 2 AM if they weren't prepared to be up all night?" He shifted back into the fanboy thread, "Oh! Oh! Oh! I bet you've got another case you're hot on the trail of, huh Mr. Detective?”

Saihara seemed to hesitate. “Uh, sort of.”

Kokichi thought he was going to say something more but after a few seconds of silence, it was clear he needed further prompting.

"What kind of answer is that?" His words seemed to surprise the Detective, which was a bit silly considering that they had been having a conversation, where words being exchanged should be the norm. "How can you only sort of be solving a mystery?" Kokichi lied through his teeth. "You know, I just so happen to also be a world class detective."

“Really? Saihara’s skeptical and unassertive response was less of a question in this conversation and more of a way to measure how gullible he was.

"Yes, really!" Kokichi replied, storming ahead, "And as a real life detective I just so happen to know that when you're working a case you work it with 100% of yourself!"

Saihara made this weird, soft sound. It took Kokichi a moment's consideration to realize it was supposed to be a laugh because it sounded not at all like the howling cackles growing up with DICE had familiarized him with.

"I guess you're kind of right about that…” He fidgeted with the edges of his coat. “There's, uh, this case that I've been looking into for a long time now and I guess I have really been putting 100% of myself into it. My friends think I'm going a little crazy…"

Ooh, that was something. 

“Your friends? Like that purple haired guy who was in the paper? The one with the dumb name?”

Considering the nitwit Saihara had been romping around the Smithsonian with, the detective must really be off the deep end on this case to be considered looney by his friends. 

Kokichi was predicting a silly story that he could use to justify to DICE his choice to sit next to the detective the whole flight beyond satiating this little whim of his for a taste of the unexpected. He imagined them laughing about the detective from the smithsonian who thought the Eiffel tower was a secret spaceship or something as Kokichi explained how he just had to stick around to make fun of him.

Oh shit the detective was saying something.

"-him and one other friend think I'm making this thing about the Louvre up… and maybe I am a little crazy."

… The Louvre, huh?

Kokichi scrutinized the detective. He couldn’t mean… “The Louvre? Like, someone's gonna steal the Mona Lisa?"

"Uh, no." The detective looked away as if mildly embarrassed. "I think, uh, someone's going to take the plumbing from the renovated bathrooms…"

Kokichi’s brain registered two things about Shuichi Saihara at the same time. One: he was a real detective. Not a hopeless buffoon of a gumshoe like the ones you saw in video games about dystopian court systems and gay lawyers. He had made a real life deduction and had done so accurately. He was on a case. The second thing he realised was that Shuichi Saihara was a direct threat to his entire operation.

People usually categorize threats as something to induce fear. Some would describe the fear as “bone chilling.” 

When Kokichi registered a threat his toes got cold. Not because he was scared or something dumb like that, but because his blood suddenly had a better place to be. 

Kokichi’s brain raced with possibilities, brand new scenarios and personas that he could put on. Like he had been sitting at a boring ass company play only to realize that the curtains were rising to reveal a dramatic opera where he was the star. Ok, Kokichi wasn’t exactly a poet laureate when it came to analogies, but he was excited okay?

Kokichi shuffled the deck of options and picked a card.

"Wow. You must be really smart to have figured that out." Ok, good thought to start with praise. He has a low self esteem. "You know…" Kokichi leaned in. Shuichi leaned away. Good. Make him uncomfortable by getting in his bubble.

Now, just for fun, lie wildly. 

 "I just so happen to be the leader of a secret organization with about 10,000 members. We rule the world from the shadows. I think we could use a detective like you."

Shuichi obviously didn’t believe him, which was, to his credit, absolutely fair. “That- that has to be a lie. There is no possible way for such an organization to exist.” 

Sad detective, falling for the classic hiding in plain sight maneuver. Disguise the truth of DICE in an unbelievable lie and he doesn’t believe any of it.

"And here I was thinking you were particularly clever." And, twist. "Seeing as you've refused to join my organization… it seems I'll have to kill you."

Oh man that really seemed to frazzle the good detective. What, had he never gotten a death threat before? Typical. It would be funny to see his expression if Kokichi were to just stab him right now. Except ew because blood and also ending human life. Yikes. Weird train of thought.

"But I'll let you leave this flight with your life if you can beat me in a game."

That seemed to calm the detective down a bit, like he realized Kokichi was just joking. It’d be funny when Kokichi pulled out the knife later. Ah, ah, ah, no spoilers.

"How about Russian Roulette with a full barrel?"

Shuichi sputtered, "This is a plane, you don't have a gun!"

Kokichi considered the ‘my ruse has been discovered….’ line again before he realized he’d used it like twice now and tossed it aside for: "Oh that's right, left it on my tchotchke shelf, silly me. Well I guess if you just want to beg like a dog and then split your guts open that would be acceptable."

Wow ok a little harsh there. Kokichi’s single brain cell devoted to tact whispered. What? No. No filter. Fuck you brain trying to conform to social conventions, shut the fuck up and stay out of my personality.

"Um, no that would kill me."

"Damn, nothing gets past you… Hmm… Ok, how about…" Kokichi reached into the pocket he usually left his Yu-Gi-Oh deck in. "A shadow game!"

He held up the cards only to realize they were actually just a normal playing deck. Oh yeah, he left his deck at home because he thought Rook might steal his blue eyes while he slept on the plane. Shit. Oh well, playing cards could be fun too.

"It's time to du-du-du-du-du-du-du-duel!"

Shuichi blinked. "A...duel? Shadow Game...?"

"Hmhmhm... Yes, the loser's soul will get sent to the Shadow Realm…" he shuffled them so that Shuichi and him would draw the same cards, "We each pull one card from this deck, and whoever has the largest number wins!"

Shuichi looked rather befuddled but Kokichi kept going full steam ahead.

This wasn’t really a game of chance anyhow. That wasn’t the point. The game had two motives, the first being to gauge Shuichi’s reactions to different scenarios, the second being to build up Kokichi himself as someone intimidating and mysterious. The card game wasn’t extremely telling, but the ensuing bout of rock paper scissors was. 

Kokichi was keeping pretty busy predicting what Shuichi was going to pick next in order to make it a tie, but Shuichi didn’t protest at all to the mindless repetitive game it must have been for him. He was either easily impressed by rock paper scissors or just too awkward to tell Kokichi to fuck off.

Apparently the guy sitting in the row in front of them had no qualms about such things. He hit the back of his seat and grumbled “Oh my God shut up already.”

A bunch of weirdly indignant thoughts ran through Kokichi’s head. 

Wow! Rude asshole! Mind your own fucking business! Get some damn headphones!

Shuichi looked like being told he was annoyed by a random asshole was his equivalent of seeing a ghost as he muttered out some inane apology. 

Not that he cared about how this guy felt, but him suddenly clamming up just wasn’t very fun at all. 

Just when he was making headway too…

… Maybe it was time to get rid of the distractions.

"Gosh Shuichi you really were being just too loud. You're like the loudest person I've ever met."

Shuichi looked at him like he was crazy which Kokichi appreciated for a millisecond before raising his voice to say, “Ugh that game was getting boring though, and no one won so it's probably time for something else.” He leaned over the aisle, noticing that Jack was standing in the aisle at the back of the plane chit chatting with Spades as Queen stole pretzel packets from the snack cart.

"Hey,” he called, “When's drink service?"

The three DICE members under his scrutiny froze like they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t be. They were probably gossiping about him again. Great.

Jack got her bearings fairly quickly, pushing the drink cart up the aisle. "Coming right up~" She trilled cheerfully.

As she passed by to start service at the front of the plane, Kokichi noticed a little green vial tucked into Jack’s sleeve. Most likely the sleep drug Kokichi had requested before he got on the plane. Hmm. He wanted to get rid of the distractions, but he wasn’t exactly sure distractions included Shuichi anymore. The flight was still pretty long and Kokichi knew he’d be bored out of his mind forever if he didn’t get through this whole game gambit with the detective.

Another spur of the moment change of plans was in order and it hit Kokichi with yet another wave of excitement.

"Hey, Shuichi!” He exclaimed, “We should have a tea party!"

Shuichi gave him another look. “A tea party? I don't think they ha-”

Kokichi didn’t have the patience not to speedrun Shuichi’s disbelief.

“Well oooobviously you wouldn't know anything about it.” He interrupted. “I'm the leader of a super secret organization after all, so of course I know about the super secret drink menu available on all air planes.

Shuichi frowned. "But they couldn't bring anything to-” 

He stopped listening. Something something blah blah blah doubt doubt doubt. 

Kokichi shook his head dismissively, getting ready to set up an I told you so moment. 

“Just watch.”

When Jack rolled up with the drink cart she made a hand signal that told Kokichi things were going well on DICE’s end of things. "And what would you fine sirs like to drink?" She asked in a register slightly higher than usual. Jack was being smarter than Kokichi about this and had basically contoured all of her distinctive facial traits away, so Kokichi wouldn’t have to worry about Shuichi tracking her down from this interaction.

"A cup of hot green tea."

Pretty much the only reason he was going along with this impulsive plan of his was that the only person who would get any heat for it if things was south was him. He wouldn’t put DICE’s livelihoods in danger for a whim such as this.

"Sure thing!"

Was this even a whim anymore?

"And what about you?"

Of course it was.

"Shuichi here will have the same thing."

If it wasn’t then it would have to be something else.

And if it were something else, then Kokichi wouldn’t know what it was.

He couldn’t afford to be that stupid.

"Of course.” Jack smiled almost a little too fakely. “Anything added in like sugar or cream?"

She was obviously double checking that Kokichi didn’t want this bastard drugged.

"No, we're both taking it plain today."

"Oh, really? Alright then." 

She poured the tea.

“"I hear you two are on a honeymoon? That's so lovely. Can I see the rings?”

Kokichi usually appreciated that Jack was quick to catch on to things, but she was bordering on insubordination at this point. 

"You know what I hear?” Time to play real housewives of DICE with this gossip again. “That lonely flight attendants should realize they're sad and nosey losers who should keep their noses out of happy people's business."

Aw shit she was going to think he was flustered and covering up something wasn’t she.

"Teehee~ Yes sir! Enjoy the flight." Yeah she totally was on to him

Wait no because to be on to him she would have to be right and she wasn’t so there.

Oh shit wait Shuichi was still here. Looking extremely awkward and unsure if he was also supposed to start bitching at flight attendants like it was common etiquette or something.

"That was all code you know.” He brushed it off. “Super secret organization stuff. You probably wouldn't understand."

"Uh, yeah." He said, "I probably wouldn't." 

Wow this guy was funny. Kokichi was moderately glad he wasn’t in a drug induced coma right now. Moderately glad was pretty good for an airplane vis a vis emotional stability.

"Neeheehee…” He let himself laugh a little. “Drink the tea Shuichi, I've got to pull you into a false sense of security before your final trial."

Shuichi frowned. "I feel like by pointing out that you're trying to lull me into a false sense of security you have essentially not done so."

"See, but because you feel that way it means I have succeeded in lulling you."

Shuichi frowned again, but seemed to see no logic in arguing. He decided to take a sip of his tea instead. Kokichi noticed the asshole in the chair in front of him was asleep. So was the guy in the seat across from his, and the woman in front of that guy was dozing too. Everyone else had a drink and would be soon to follow.

Everyone except for…

“So how do you like the tea, Shuichi?” Ouma asked.

Shuichi was drinking that hot leaf juice like a pro who didn’t even feel the burn. He made a contemplative expression.

“It’s pretty good as far as tea goes.” He shrugged. “I’m more of a coffee guy.”

Kokichi felt a little offended on the behalf of DICE’s custom blend as well as all of the classy tea drinkers in the world. He shook his head

"Fff, what are you, a cop or something? Next you’ll be telling me you like donuts more than cupcakes." 

Shuichi made a weird face before looking away. 

"Holy shit," Kokichi said. This was the perfect time to both change the subject and do a little investigating of his own. " Are you a cop? Like a really funny undercover cop who decided to pretend to be someone with the exact same job?"

"Uh, no, that's not it." 

Was it something about the donuts then or- wait no that was stupid it was obviously the cop thing. 

Shuichi was looking out the window now. "I, uh, did used to be a force detective."

"Huh," Kokichi remarked, trying to peek around at Shuichi's face, "Were you fired or something? You must've been pretty bad to get fired from some backwater police station."

"No that's not it." He seemed to be leaning into some sort of memory, "I quit actually…"

Ugh, who gave this fucking loser the right to be interesting. It was totally unfair.

Kokichi kept digging, "Man why wouldn't you want to be a cop. Clearly the most respectable public service someone can provide for their country…" but that was totally a lie. Cops suck.

Shuichi frowned. "I, uh, kind of disagree with that." He was pulling at his fingers like he was trying to stretch them like taffy. "I met a lot of people on the force who really did care about making the community better, but I feel like the existence of law enforcement is really a symptom of larger societal problems, and that the structure of power doesn't work to reduce crime or violence but instead works increase it by giving a group of privileged individuals the power to instill generational trauma in communities."

Uh… huh. Kokichi took a moment to process that because he had never thought about “cops = bad” beyond their innate fuddy duddy inclinations to stop him specifically from doing whatever the hell he wanted. What the fuck? Did this guy actually have, like, opinions??? And legitimate reasons for them??? Who gave him the right??? How could Kokichi hear more of them???

Pff wait he was probably some rich kid who took maybe one social justice class in college and became a stooge of the state anyway. Maybe he was, like, a real policeman's embittered assistant or something.

"That's lame." He lied, "cops are the cops, do you want folks to be murdering people left and right all the time??? I bet you've never even met a criminal." Hehe that one was a bit ironic, he'd laugh about it later.

Shuichi furrowed his brow at him, "Well, I have… I was a homicide detective, actually. I've arrested murderers in person many times..."

What???? Is this what talking to all strangers for extended periods of time was like? You found out they actually had lives? And cool careers? That they made their livings in murder?

Nah, Shuichi was probably an exception. You don't meet an anti cop homicide detective everyday after all…

Kokichi decided he was being too endeared so he planned out a new branch of conversation that would hopefully make Shuichi squeamish, or at least unnerved.

He put on his best enthusiasm face. "Tell me about a murder! Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

Shuichi blinked at him, surprised at his sudden shift in mood. "Uh, alright then…" he said.

Shuichi started to go into detail about a case he had solved his first year on the force. Some guy turned up dead in a public pool and everyone else had basically given up on the case. Shuichi was describing how he figured it out through deductions and use of specific forensic techniques, and to be honest he wasn't exactly a master of suspense. Kokichi was able to deduce the murderer from the details Shuichi chose to include. No, none of that was why he was completely mesmerized with Shuichi while he talked.

Hearing about the things that Shuichi did to get to the evidence in the first place was… impressive???

No that couldn’t be right. 

Maybe it was just weird to see a mousey guy like him get as jazzed up as Kokichi about solving murders, and not even in a weird or vaguely creepy way. He just seemed like… Kokichi hadn't thought about it in a long time but when he was a kid he read a shit ton of mystery manga, where the heroes were detectives. He had since then moved on to more sophisticated literature such as airplane diagrams and police radio transcripts, but Shuichi reminded him of those detectives instead of the old fuddy duddies with which he had begun to associate the profession. He was just kind of… cool. Yeah that was the word for it. Cool. Like he was always going to get around to the right answer no matter what. Yeah, he had that abstract "coolness" factor that had drawn Kokichi to protagonists as a kid.

Kokichi wanted to steal it from him. Break his composure, become the center of the stage in this narrative. Yet, at the same time he suddenly dreaded his own inevitable heel turn. This was something rare, he decided, getting to talk one on one with Shuichi like this. It would probably never happen again.

So Kokichi listened. He teased, interjected, and prompted superfluous explanations, but he listened. 

And Shuichi talked. He talked about murder most foul, crooked cops, elusive evidence, and the friends he made along the way. Shit straight out of a manga that Kokichi was spending his Saturday morning hyper-fixating on.

The conversation only ended when Shuichi had to get up to use the toilet. A stark reminder that manga wasn’t real and in meatspace human beings had to shit every now and then. Kokichi watched him go and felt a little sad. Like he knew whatever it was worth, the moment had passed. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and now all he had was to dissect it over and over again in his head until it became mangled beyond recognition...

Yeah yeah ok, world's tiniest violin, scattered ashes, ceremonial boat burning, yadda yadda.

Kokichi had a heist to pull off, no time for any of this silly stuff. He dismissed whatever weird feelings were bubbling in his chest and decided to go with the more practical inspiration that struck him. He took a couple seconds to plan out his grand exit. He decided to leave Shuichi a note and justified to himself that heists had been getting boring lately and as a proper game master he should give Shuichi a hint. Hmm were his initials too much? It might seem like…

Well he didn't really know what it seemed like, which was weird because he was a genius. Was he actually trying to figure out how Shuichi would react to this? He hadn't really thought about what Shuichi's opinion of him had been because he had only started thinking of Shuichi as an actual person halfway through the flight. That was the thing about being in a close knit organization, he always thought about DICE as an extension of himself and everyone else as some sort of nebulous other he had to predict the movements of. Sometimes he forgot that if you spent a lot of time talking to some stranger you find out they have brains and lives and stuff.

Speaking of things that probably have brains and lives and stuff, things seemed to be going good with DICE. Jack had signaled him that she told everyone about the plan when she came by to collect trash. 

Of course, he and Shuichi were the only ones she took trash from. Everyone else was fast asleep, all according to plan. Kokichi had written some last minute details on a napkin he had put in the trash bag, so they all knew they were dropping soon. 

They were also all probably gossiping about him. He supposed that's what he got for ditching them to sit with a detective dressed in black like a sexy motorcycle. Wow that was terrible where did his brain even get that line and how could he use it to make Shuichi freak out. Probably pretty easily...

Except if everything went according to plan maybe he wouldn't have the chance. Not like this. He imagined himself yelling the comment at Shuichi from the safety of a getaway chopper, like in the movies…

Ok his note was basically done now. Oh hmm. This actually seemed kind of desperate, the note. It kind of screamed "track me down to the end of the world please" like some sort of piss baby cry for help. 

Aw shit. He was thinking about what Shuichi thought about him again...

Speak of the devil and he shall appear but Kokichi was already here and hadn't talked about himself in a bit, so Shuichi showed up instead. His hands were wet which meant he washed them and goddammit it was insufferable how tolerable this guy was. Did he have no weaknesses besides being generally awkward and also being someone who used to be a cop? Ugh wait the latter was kind of cool too. Insufferable.

Well you know what they say, if you can't beat em plan to jump off an airplane because you did beat them they just don't know it yet.

Kokichi decided their final trial together deserved some dramatic build up, so he bowed to Shuichi as he got up to let him sit back down. 

"Welcome, combatants." He illustriated, "Take your seat and prepare for the final trial."

Shuichi gave him a wary look as he slid back into his seat. 

"What is it this time?" he asked.

Kokichi considered pulling out the crying on that one, but got too excited about how Shuichi would react to his pulling out the knife instead. Thusly he reprimanded the detective’s lack of enthusiasm with a single tsk.

“You could stand to be a little more concerned mister detective, it’s your life on the line after all.” 

Shuichi gave him a dubious look, like he trusted airport security and general societal norms to keep him from being murdered. 

Kokichi wanted to tear down the walls of that trust.

He pulled out the knife.

Shuichi’s reaction was instantaneous. He practically jumped away from Kokichi in his seat. Weirdly enough... that just made Kokichi realize they had been sitting pretty close before...

How did that happen?

Eh no time for that.

“Is that a knife?” Shuichi yelped, “How did you get a knife on the plane?”

It was weird how Shuichi stuttered about everything except things that were actually dangerous. Well maybe Kokichi having a knife wasn’t really dangerous, but Shuichi didn’t know that and here he was saying complete words. Sentences and all. And yet it still had the streak of incredulity running through it that shot through to Kokichi’s head faster than his own signature panta-redbull blend.

“Oh, a villain's got his ways.” He said in a way that he thought was pretty cool and mysterious.

Shuichi still seemed to be panicking a bit and Kokichi was getting a little tired of that so he brushed past it.

“Now this game's pretty easy to understand, but you gotta be skilled,” he explained matter of factly, “I'll go first to show you how it's done.”

When some other kids had showed him this game when he was an even tinier bastard they had started off slow and slowly sped up. But he was still kind of leaning into the shock factor, and going slow was lame. He started stabbing the table through his fingers at a breakneck pace.

“H-hey!” Shuichi exclaimed (oh so now he stutters), “You're gonna hurt yourself doing that!”

“Pff, as if I would.” 

The thing about this game is that it required rhythm, and rhythm required predictable repetition, and being predictable was the antithesis to everything that brought him joy in life.

He sped up.

“Here it's really easy.”

He went even faster.

The knife went *thuck thuck thuck* as it massacred the table.

When you did something the same way for a long time it gave you time to think about things. It didn’t really give you anything specific to think about, though, so Kokichi always felt like he was wasting time.

The knife went *thkthkthk* between his fingers.

He wanted to consider next steps. How long he would do this for and what would he do if Shuichi lost the game… Instead he started thinking about when he learned the game. He remembered he had picked it up from some of the older kids at one of the homes. The only other thing he remembered about them was one time they had stood by a rose bush with him, tearing off thorns and pushing them into their fingertips. Kokichi had done it and remembered that it didn’t feel like anything at all.

*Schlick*

Your fingers are full of blood vessels and nerves, but if you push down to the cartilage-

Oh wait. 

“Agh!” Shuichi exclaimed from beside him, “You’re bleeding!”

Kokichi was bleeding.

He was looking at his hand. His knife had nicked a millimeter of skin on the inner side of his ring finger, just at the junction between the tip of his finger and the second part of the ligament. It occurred to him that he was in pain.

“Ow,” He said on instinct. Or maybe he thought it in his head. It didn’t matter because he was busy also thinking about how Shuichi had just grabbed his wrist and pulled it over to him.

The detective placed Kokichi’s hand in his lap like a sandwich he was saving for later while he ruffled through his coat pockets. He drew out a bandaid and lifted Kokichi’s hand again. His fingers were longer than Kokichi’s, and they felt sort of cold, like his blood had better places to be than his fingertips. They were very, very gentle as they wrapped a bandage around the bleeding finger. Almost like Shuichi cared or something.

The detective’s greyish green eyes flickered up to him and Kokichi realized Shuichi had really long eyelashes. “You really ought to be more careful.” He said in his soft way.

Kokichi was honestly having more emotions than were necessary about this, so he focused on the annoyance.

Man, good at figuring things out, is interesting, has opinions, and actually cares about other people? Was this guy even a real person??? That seemed like too many character traits. Geez Shuichi, why did mom let you have all of the attractive personality qualities?

Did he say attractive? He meant annoying. 

Shuichi squinted at him. His eye lashes weren’t that long, he was wearing eyeliner. Kokichi had already noticed that. He just had to start thinking coherent thoughts again.

“What is it? Are you alright?”

Yeah, for sure.

Shuichi was still holding his hand and Kokichi decided it was time to not be touching another person again, so he quickly whipped it away. He tried to settle into a boastful kind of hands behind the head pose, but worried that the effect was lost by the sudden squirming of emotions in his gut.

"Geez," Kokichi said petulantly, "I can't believe you actually beat me."

He stomped everything down. It was time for action not... not whatever this was.

Shuichi blinked at him in confusion. "Beat you? But I didn't even play…"

"Doesn't matter." Kokichi shifted to a new pose where he leaned his arm on the rest in between them and propped his head up, positioned for his next steps. "The rules were if I cut myself I lose, and I lost."

“...Although, it doesn't matter if you join my organization or not anymore, Shuichi."

Shuichi looked at him in confusion and Kokichi found it kind of frustrating that he didn’t know which aspect of this that Shuichi was contemplating. 

“Uh, it doesn’t?”

Very eloquent, Shuichi, that clears things up.

"Nope." Kokichi moved a bit so that both elbows rested on the arm rest and propped his head up closer to Shuichi’s. "Because I've already done something much more important than winning."

As Kokichi leaned in Shuichi leaned back. Shuichi was staring pretty intensely at his eyes which made this the perfect opportunity. Kokichi’s hands went lightly down to Shuichi’s waist, where he put the detective’s seat belt into a dreadknot.

“W-what's that?” The detective stammered, no doubt as alarmed by the proximity as Kokichi had anticipated.

Kokichi hadn’t really anticipated what he would say next though.

He went with, “I've stolen your heart.” He felt a millennia of DICE movie nights spent making fun of romantic comedies crash against his soul and decided to change the genre before he embarrassed himself. “Because I'm a thief you know?”

He was practically breathing in Shuichi’s ear by now, which made this next part a little hard. He unbuckled his seatbelt. Then, in a fluid motion Kokichi’s hands went behind his head as he arched to place them on the aisle armrest. He did a handstand for an instant on the arm rest before landing his feet across the aisle on to some poor bastard’s tray table.

When he came up for air he observed that he had knocked a cup over and that Shuichi had just noticed his own seat belt malfunction. The detective’s look of dawning realization felt like a standing ovation.

"Hmmm, I really should kill you, now that you've seen my face," and maybe he would if DICE were that kind of organization. It was kind of troubling that the police would get sketches, and the gang would probably harrang him about it. But eh, what can you do. 

Certainly not murder. You can’t just murder people. That’d be dumb. Boring even.

Kokichi hopped down from the tray table and grabbed his heist bag. It would’ve been bad to forget that, he considered as he pulled out his mask, Louvre cameras are a lot more reliable than a half asleep detective’s recount.

Said detective was certainly fully awake now, looking at Kokichi in an utterly gobsmacked manner. Kokichi felt like he was sinking his teeth into the stem of a rose thrown from the audience.

"... But I think that'd be a waste, don't you?" Maybe the trouble was what he was looking for, after all. He wondered if they would fingerprint the arm rests when the plane touched down. They wouldn’t find any matches in any criminal database, so it didn’t matter much to him. He put on his gloves anyway before tossing Shuichi the note he had written.

No time for second drafts. He thought as he started walking down the aisle.

“Somebody! Stop him!” Shuichi yelled from behind him. It was so manga detective that Kokichi wanted to scream.

The rest of DICE was already getting up with their parachutes on, and a few turned towards Shuichi’s call. Thank goodness they were wearing their masks because he wasn’t sure if Shuichi could still see down the aisle or not. He might’ve seen Jack’s face, but she had been wearing a lot of makeup so it was probably fine.

She certainly didn’t seem concerned. She was checking the knots the only actual flight attendant on the plane was trussed up in.

Ace, always a little over eager, wrenched open the emergency exit as Kokichi was still putting his parachute on. He felt the drastic change of air pressure in those spaces you feel it in your skull and stomach. He hadn’t realized how warm the inside of the plane was until the cold air sucked it out. 

He used convenient zippers to close up his hoodie pockets, knife included, and buckled up the rest of the parachute’s straps.

He looked back, just once. Shuichi was peering out at him in the aisle. He looked like his world was ending and Kokichi reveled in the power of that. That he was just that important to this detective.

The curtains are about to drop but there are still people screaming in the balconies.

He smiled.

The encore wasn’t up to him.

“So long, Mr. Detective!" He got to the window. "Better luck next time.”

Kokichi jumped back first out of the plane and the walls and the aisles and the lights of the plane slipped out of view through the emergency exit one by one.

And he fell.

He fell and flipped over to take in the view of Paris below. The city of lights indeed. It was beautiful, he supposed.

He fell, letting himself enjoy the breeze a bit before reaching terminal velocity. 

He didn't though. 

Enjoy it. 

It felt like getting on a fucking awesome roller coaster except it’s also your every day ride to your job at some dead end minimum wage desk.

It was… boring. Routine.

Just victory, just the Louvre, just air.

Even as the other members of DICE whooped and hollered on their descent, Kokichi realized the fun part of the heist was already over. The whole heist was over.

He could predict it all.

He would deploy his parachute, he would float down to the Louvre, and he would orchestrate a perfect heist.

But Kokichi Ouma realized then that he would never stopped falling.

[thefallons]

Origins --> Scotia&Charlie

Discord Transcript Timeline Points:

- Charlie finds out Scotia has a son (Charlie is 33, Scotia is 34, Jensen is 2) - Charlie confides in Dex about how to proceed - Charlie breaks up with Scotia, believing he doesn’t fit into his life - Dex confronts Charlie about how miserable he’s been - Charlie tries to win Scotia back, but first, be honest with him about wizardry - Scotia and Charlie agree to spend the night together, but in Scotia’s home - Charlie meets Jensen for the first time

It's been 10 months since they started seeing each other, Charlie is a regular at Scotia's bar and then one day Scotia’s babysitter doesn't show up. Scotia brings a two-year-old Jensen to the bar with him because his boss truly does not give a fuck. As long as the place isn't on fire the owner hardly cares and the staff basically runs it. But Scotia puts Jensen high chair at the end of the bar and lets him color some pictures. And then Charlie walks in and Scotia's heart skips a beat, his ears go red.

SCOTIA:

Scotia says nothing until Charlie notices the child and brings it up and even then, he hesitantly says, "That's uh...my son. Jensen. He- his babysitter had something come up so...he's with me today." Looking at Charlie like ...this is a bombshell...I know...think about it while I get you wine to process better. Jensen is just at the end of the bar, scribbling with some crayons, a sippy cup nearby. He's a child who isn't even fully aware he's in a bar because dad's in a rough spot.

CHARLIE: Charlie would be so confused. He would drink a glass or two, way faster than normal, and keeps throwing glances from Scotia to the boy. He thinks to himself, "Of course he has a son, he could even have a wife or a husband, who knows! You don't know him, what you have with him is just for fun, right? It's not like they're in a serious relationship so yeah, it shouldn't matter if he has one or ten kids hiding behind the bar, right. Right? So this is just an affair, I hope he isn't cheating anyone, though because I do not want to get involved with drama.”

SCOTIA: Scotia definitely notices that Charlie downs his drinks way too fast and as soon as Scotia can get away from his customers for a minute he comes up by Charlie with a third glass of wine for him. But Scotia takes a big sip of the wine before setting it down in front of Charlie and asking him, "Are you freaking out a bit?"

Charlie: Charlie literally just gives him a wide-eyed look because it's better than saying "YA THINK??"

SCOTIA: He's trying to keep his own cool and smile a little bit on the inside, he's like this is it this was good while it lasted.

"I-" he licks his lips when he sees the look like ok that was a dumb question, "There didn't seem like an appropriate time to go hey, by the way, I gotta run, I only have the babysitter till midnight. Would it have made it any better if I told you earlier?"

CHARLIE: "Yeah... That would've. Been... huh. For once I have no words."

Charlie gets up and grabs his jacket, trying very hard to remain cool and looking at the kid and then Scotia. "Listen– I think I need some time to-" gestures towards his head and sighs. "We can talk about this some other day?" he offers while asking himself the same, was that a good idea?

“For what it’s worth, he seems like a nice kid." And then he leaves.

SCOTIA: Scotia's face gets a little red at how Charlie is shutting down. He's literally already so stressed out, is at work, and now his object of feelings is making THAT face. He runs a hand through his hair and goes, "This doesn't change anything between us. You don't /have/ to go."

Charlie blasts through Dex's door and pacing from one corner to the other, trying to think about what just happened. Charlie had previously downplayed how involved he was with Scotia, only mentioning that he'd met this guy at a Muggle bar and that was where he vanished to some days of the week. And how Scotia was able to keep Charlie's attention because they both know how impersonal Charlie can be with some of his hookups, but no, this guy was actually interesting.

CHARLIE: "He has a kid, Dex." and just that throwing his arms up

DEX: Dex is wide-eyed. It takes him time to put 2 and 2 together that Charlie is talking about his hook up cause he's not sure why Charlie is so worked up about it. "O...kay? What's he, trying to get you to pay child support? Oh. Oh is he fucking married, Charlie, are you back to your homewrecking ways?"

CHARLIE: Charlie just being like this and he has to laugh, of course even when he isn't trying to do anything stupid, he still does it. "Dunno, Dex. All I know is that I walked into the bar and his son was there because the babysitter left."

"I wonder if that didn't happen, would I even find out? Who knows. Guess it really was supposed to be just a fling."

DEX: Dex's brows are still raised bc he can't believe. "Uh...what did he have to say about it?"

And then sits up suddenly and is like, "Wait, was this not a fling? Is this- did we shift gears somewhere there, Charles, do you have something to tell me?"

CHARLIE: Charlie stares at his friend for a full minute because hello can you please join my meltdown? Screw you, Dex. "Maybe. But I don't think there's any future for that now, so forget it."

DEX: "Wait, wait, wait, wait- back up. Did you want to know sooner? Did you want him to like you enough to tell you sooner?" Dex looks surprised as hell because does his friend have feelings? Charlie never has feelings this is absurd and he's not going to let it go, Charlie can hit him if he wants to. "Charlie, I am clutching my chest, I cannot believe you."

CHARLIE: "Yeah well. I can't believe some of the information I've been given tonight either so."

DEX: "What the hell's the story? What's his deal, why didn't he tell you about the kid??"

CHARLIE: "I know it's hard for you but shut up Dex. It doesn't matter anymore, okay? So pour me a drink. I've been vulnerable enough for one evening. Time to get hammered"

DEX: Dex sighs and lets it go for now. He pours Charlie a stiff drink and then pours himself one and lets loose, fully intending to circle back to this once they're plastered.

Meanwhile, Scotia types out about 7 different versions of a text to Charlie over the course of several hours but deletes all of them. It's probably late at night and Charlie is probably super drunk when his phone goes off and it's a text that just says, "Can we talk?" And Dex certainly snoops over his shoulder.H e's not subtle about the snooping, he never is, he and Charlie have so few boundaries.

CHARLIE: Charlie and Dex lie on Dex's bed but Dex is facing one way and Charlie is another. They're both drunk and Charlie feels tired, he needs the rest but he's still kinda upset. Then he sees the text Scotia sends him and oh. He lets the phone drop on his chest and finally says, "I like him. I think I have for a while but. I don't know. We don't really know each other, we fuck at a hotel and sometimes we have breakfast together before he has to go."

"And it was easy and fun, I wasn't paying attention to how long has it since we started or even how he kinda became part of my routine but today... Going to the bar and he seemed scared when I asked him about the little boy. I don't think he wanted to tell me."

"I don't think he wants more than what we have right now. And I respect that, I actually wished I felt the same, but still. Realizing there's a possibility that he actually has a whole family out there and I'm the dirty little secret– That's not. I don't want to get involved in that..."

"I've had enough of romantic drama for the rest of my life. I should break this off before it gets more complicated."

DEX: Dex is quiet for a few beats even after Charlie finishes speaking. He blinks a few times because his heart literally hurts for his friend, he'd go to the ends of the earth for Charlie and this is him in rare form. "Do you think he's this sad too?" He whispers finally. "Like right now, in this moment?"

CHARLIE: Charlie shrugs and says "Can't say, I don't think I know him as well as I thought. Perhaps he's just embarrassed to be caught in that situation where his lover and his son are in the same room."

DEX: Dex finally shifts to he can turn to his side and lean on his elbow and actually look at Charlie. "You don't want to know for sure? You'd just be content accepting your place as the dirty little secret forever? What if he has some kind of crazy story to explain and you just never know about it? Would you really just be okay drifting into the night forever and never finding out?"

CHARLIE: Charlie mirrors the movement to look at his friend, "Crazy story? That's what you're trying to convince me? I don't think I'm betting on that and even if it turns out to be true, it's better if I leave him alone. Could you imagine me being a stepdad? Because I can't."

DEX: Dex definitely talks about it with Charlie for a little while longer and tries to convince him to at least get closure for the sake of his own sanity. Tells him to not ghost Scotia solely to put a cap on his own feelings and deal with the heartbreak in a slightly more productive way. He doesn't care how convincing he is, just says his piece, and pats his friend on the shoulder like sleep it off, buddy. We can debate more in the morning if you need to.

Charlie agrees to meet Scotia again, even if he thinks he's going there to end things. He'll text him back and try to meet Scotia the following day, he wouldn't want to drag anything. He still likes Scotia enough that he wouldn't want to leave him hanging.

SCOTIA: Scotia feels lighter but also burdened all at once when Charlie texts him back. He'll want to meet at the bar because it's common ground but not when he's working because he doesn't want their conversation to get interrupted. He likes Charlie and he wants to set this right, he doesn’t feel good when they’re not talking.

Scotia probably tells Charlie to come in towards the end of his workday so he can get off the clock and give him his undivided attention. His heart literally skips a beat when he sees Charlie and it shows in his face. But when he finally gets out from behind the bar and finds a table for them to sit at, it's with a glass of wine for Charlie as a gesture of peace. "I missed you last night," he'll tell him quietly but then shakes his head a little because he knows that was stupid. He knows Charlie doesn't want to hear that right now, he just couldn't help himself. He takes a deep breath before Charlie can respond and add, "I didn't tell you I had a kid because that's not sexy. It's not sexy being a single dad who has to carve 2 hours out of the day for himself to do one thing that he enjoys. It's messy, a lot of what I have going on outside of us is messy but things are real good when it's just us and I think you think so too so I...didn't want just us to get messy too. Okay? God's honest truth. I just didn't want you to feel like you had to shoulder my burdens...." He hesitates, looks like he might say something else but he doesn't. Just licks his lips and sips at his water cause he's nervous and rambled. He didn't have to explain himself but it all just tumbled out.

CHARLIE: Charlie feels so conflicted, he understands Scotia's reason but he still stands by the idea that it's better for them to break up now. Charlie thinks their relationship ending is inevitable, also because of the whole secret wizard world he's hiding from Scotia.

"I'm a mess too, I get it. Ask anyone that knows me. Ask my brother, he'll hand you a list of all my major fuck ups so far and it would all be true." He pulls his hands back to his lap, clasps them together to keep them out of Scotia's reach, "But I don't wanna screw this up as well... I'm not ready for this, I'm sorry. I'm- I'm really sorry, Scotia."

SCOTIA: Scotia’s face falls when he realizes he’s being broken up with. This is hard and the opposite of what he wanted, the precise reason he hid his child, to begin with. His face shows his heartbreak and he can’t even hide it. Scotia has feelings for this man who is literally rejecting his child; his son is such a big part of his life. How is he supposed to beg for someone who can't handle his life in the long term?

"You're not gonna screw this up unless you do exactly the thing you're trying to do to not screw this up," Scotia tells him hoarsely. He literally cannot contain the crumbling in his eyes, "Right now, my son doesn't have a bearing on what we have. If you want it to stay that way it...it can stay that way." He says the words but they hurt because he wants more. If he didn't know it before, he knows it now that he wants more with Charlie.

CHARLIE: Charlie getting up too fast, knocking his chair behind him and moving to the other side of the table to reach Scotia. He's kissing the side of his face, his forehead, his neck and whispering he's sorry and that he hates to see Scotia crying. "I wish I was better for you."

SCOTIA: Scotia is so startled by the movement but when Charlie comes close to him he moves a hand to touch the younger man- to grip on to whatever part of him he can. It crushes him to hear the words but Charlie seems so sure and Scotia is a man of pride. He feels as though he's already begged and he's not going to grovel to someone who is determined not to be with him. He just bows his head to his chest and takes a shaky breath and takes in the closeness for as long as he can have it before Charlie leaves him.

Charlie tells Dex he went there to the bar to talk to Scotia and they're over now and it fucking sucks but Charlie believes it's better this way. So he'll just have to deal with it, it was his choice.

Dex waits for Charlie to show any signs of improvement but Dex doesn't enjoy it when Charlie acts fake with him. He calls Charlie out on his bullshit a few weeks later. He's like okay drop the act because you know this Charlie isn't for me. It's for the rest of the world. Try again.

CHARLIE: "I'm angry. I'm so angry, Dex, I don't know how to suppress this, I want- I hate feeling this, I hate how much I still think about him, I hate how attached I've gotten without noticing. I fucking hate it."

DEX: "Angry at what?" Dex looks so concerned because honestly, he wouldn't have called his friend out if he couldn't tell that he was about to blow. "Dude, you didn't even give yourself a chance," he continues the casual calling out. "If you're frustrated it's cause you quit without trying. And normally, in day to day...you're not a fuckin quitter, Charlie. You're a damn Ravenclaw, you see things through." Dex had observed how fast Charlie went from finding out something he didn't like to cutting and running and already was like uh oh, this is gonna hurt and be bad

Narrator's voice: Dexter was correct.

CHARLIE: "I fucking know, Dex, and that's why it feels so... Stupid! I am so convinced I'm not the type of person he needs I already bailed out! He doesn't need me not knowing what the fuck I want and risk getting his kid involved with someone like me." Charlie wants to punch something and given their history there's a chance he'll punch Dex just because he's the only one there. It's not the first time it happened and he knows Dex will forgive him or maybe punch him back if necessary, "He's... Just a guy I met at a bar." he tells himself, "He doesn't even know that my means of transport from here to his bar is my mind and my wand. He thinks I'm a Muggle... We don't know each other, so why is this so hard?"

DEX: "Someone like you? What the fuck does that even mean Charlie? Have you murdered someone lately? Punched a kid? Tossed someone off a building? You tried to break up with him because you thought he was married, you didn't even want to homewreck his imaginary relationships! What does someone like me even mean? You gonna talk down to Scotia's kid like your dad did to you? You gonna tell that kid he can do better no matter how hard he tries? You gonna shut him out, kick him around, break his ability to talk about literally anything?" Dex is nearly huffing at this point, he's so mad because Charlie is mad. They're just feeding off each other's energy. "Because unless that's your plan, I don't think your someone like me is valid. You're you, Charlie. You're not half fuckin bad, actually." He certainly looks and sounds angry despite his complimentary words.

CHARLIE: Charlie still looks crazy but he stays silent before saying, "You're so embarrassing, Dexter, did you just hear what you said?" Because he has to deflect, he doesn't want to admit what Dex said is true. There is a lot of self-loathing within Charlie but he wouldn't admit it or carry it as a flaw.

"Do you think- Should I call him? Will he even pick up?"

DEX: "You could sit here and wonder for another three weeks. Or you can just follow your gut and do it and see where you land. How much sadder can you possibly get at this point, right?"

Dex is still pretty hopped up on adrenaline from their level of emotions. He’s struggling to even be supportive without being aggressive.

CHARLIE: Charlie sits down and just breathes for a few minutes. He knows what he has to do, as painfully awkward as it will be. On his way out he hugs Dex from the back and tells him "What would I be without you, Dexter D'Angelo! Wish me good luck."

DEX: Dex definitely enjoys the love and tells Charlie he'd be a sad loser but not to worry because he'll never leave him so they'll never see that fate.

Charlie lands on the spot he always used to and feels like he fucked up the apparition because he feels so nauseous out of the blue. He knows it's still working hours at the bar, so he stays there thinking of what he wants to say until there are only 5 minutes until closing time. Only then does he walk in, slowly making his way to the bar and waiting for Scotia to notice him.

SCOTIA: Scotia damn near drops the three drinks in his hands when he sees Charlie's face. His mouth goes dry and he delivers the drinks. He almost tells the bartender he's working with to cover him the last few minutes but he takes a deep breath and tells himself to maintain his cool. He has the other person he's with bring Charlie a wine though while he waits. Just the dumb, cheap kind that Charlie likes.

CHARLIE: Charlie thanks the other bartender and tips but he doesn't drink any of it this time, just let it rest in front of him while he waits for Scotia

SCOTIA: Scotia's coworker is so up in his business too, like isn’t that the guy who used to just hang out during your shift all the time? Where has he been? Look at him, is he okay? And Scotia is like shut up and let me finish chasing these drunks out so I can take care of some business.

Scotia's al nerves though, he literally cannot imagine what Charlie wants with him all these weeks later. But he cleans up a little bit and then walks over to Charlie's table, face neutral but heart thundering in his chest. He literally cried in front of Charlie last time and that's so out of the ordinary for him, he's pushing himself so hard not to seem weak, not to seem like he can be taken advantage of. "Hi," he just says, sitting down across from him. He notices the untouched wine and gestures to it, "Not your brand anymore?"

CHARLIE: Charlie watches Scotia approaching him and part of him feels excited to be there, but his pessimist side reminds him there's a good chance they won't get back together.

"I wanted to make sure you knew that I was completely sober," he answers knowing Scotia didn't expect a real answer for that, but it was true, he needed Scotia to believe what he was about to say.

He pulls his wand from the inner pocket in his jacket and places on the table in front of them, taking a deep breath he speaks, "I haven't been honest with you either, Scotia. This," he nods at the piece of wood in front of them, "Is my wand. My wand that I use.... For magic." he's probably trying very hard not to come out as funny although it sounds ridiculous.

"I'm a wizard, Scotia. A real one."

SCOTIA: Scotia shrugs when Charlie turns down the drink and pulls it towards himself to take a big sip. He raises a brow at the item that's placed between them, dismissing it as a tree branch at best. "Excuse me?" He damn near chokes on the wine. "Charlie, honestly, of all the excuses to come back here after getting spooked from meeting my kid- no, you didn't really even meet him, actually. You glanced at him. From a distance. And then ran. And you never really came back. So for this to be your reasoning behind it. It- it's not amusing." He grows increasingly red in the face, leaning back in his chair to run both hands through his hair. He lets out a deep breath, eyes darting back and forth as he looks at the ceiling for a moment because he can't believe he let himself think or have hope that Charlie had really come back for him. Don't fucking cry again he tells himself. Do not

CHARLIE: Charlie isn't sure if Scotia is mad at him for not coming right out of the gate telling he wants to get back together or if he truly thinks Charlie is making a very convoluted excuse to explain why they broke up. He squints his eyes, trying to figure out if he ever made a joke so absurd that it would be possible for Scotia to believe he is lying about that.

"It's not- That's not why I walked away that day. But you heard me right? I'm a wizard, I'm really not fucking around. I'm actually a professor at a school of witchcraft," it does sound like crazy talk, "Scotia, listen, please." Charlie wants to calm him down so bad so he can just see he's telling the truth. "You're right, okay? About me getting spooked seeing your kid, I was terrified and I still am! I still... Believe it's not a good idea for you to add me to your personal life, because I am good at screwing things up and I know you'd never forgive me if I hurt your son."

"That's why it's so scary, that's why it feels like this is beyond what I can take. But I've spent the last weeks trying to move on but turns out I can't get over it. I can't get over you and I... I don't know when it happened, but I like you. I like you a lot. So. I wanted to tell you the truth of my identity as well and see if. If even with that added to the list of weird shit we'd have to deal with if you still... Wanted to be with me."

SCOTIA: "My kid, whose name you don't even know, Charlie, you didn't even bother. You-you just left. I get it, you were scared but..." Scotia narrows his eyes, "You could have at least tried to ask? You saw him and I was suddenly not good enough for you anymore and that-" He takes a deep breath, realizing he's getting louder and riled up. "Charlie, in my pants is in my fuckin person life. Too late, you were already there. You could've stayed on the other side of the bar from me forever and saved yourself the trouble of all this that way. But you already crossed that line, you were already in my personal life." Scotia clears his throat, unable to even focus on the crazy wizardry part anymore past his intense emotions related to their relationship- or lack thereof. "You cannot just walk in here and tell me that you want to be with me but that you won't be good for me if we're together. You cannot be unwilling to change to be better and stronger if you don't think you are those things now. If you don't feel like I'm worth at least trying to be good for then you have no place here tonight, Charlie."

CHARLIE: "I'm sorry for not asking your kid's name right then and there if it wasn't clear I was panicking beyond reasoning, Scotia. You say now that I was already in your personal life, but that's not how it felt. Up until a few weeks ago, I thought you still saw me as a good fuck and costumer. And I thought the same, as cruel as it sounds but it's true. For all I know, if it wasn't for your babysitter failing that day, you wouldn't have told me about your son at all. And it hit me that... I didn't know you. You could've been married with kids and having an affair with me just because.

I wouldn't even have the right to be upset, because we never talked about us. I didn't think there was an us to even talk about... So it took me all of that shit happening to see how much I wanted you, yes, is that fucked up? Maybe but that's how I realized.

And if me changing or becoming someone better suited for your life is what you need from me, then you're right, I don't think I'll have to be better, so why waste both of our times.

I guess I really have no place being here tonight."

SCOTIA: Scotia's shoulders deflate with the way Charlie comes at him. The longer the man goes on the more his desperation becomes clear and suddenly, when Charlie finishes rambling his thoughts, Scotia simply blurts out, "Thank you...for telling me all that." He licks his lips and takes a deep breath, not a panicked, and frustrated one this time. His voice is quieter when he speaks, trying to make Charlie actually listen to him instead of just hearing his words, "I didn't tell you about my son because I thought you thought this was just a good fuck, Charlie. You're right, we didn't talk about this but we should've. I don't just have breakfast in the morning with everybody- actually nobody, I haven't had breakfast the morning after with anybody since my kid was born and you can hear that whole story, plain and true if you want to. But I'm willing to bet you don't just come and sit in bars waiting for people's shifts to be over so you can get a good lay either. So...we should've talked about it."

Scotia shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with the wine glass in front of him but he doesn't take a drink, he can't bring himself to stomach a thing. "I don't want you to change to be suited for my life. I don't know who's asked you to do that in the past but it's not me. I want the exact opposite, I want you to realize you don't have to change to be with me. You keep telling me you're no good and you're gonna be bad for me but I haven't seen any of that in the last year." His last words are nearly a whisper because he can't fathom how else to make Charlie understand, "The only time you hurt me is when you tell me you're going to."

CHARLIE: Charlie hates every second of the honesty they threw at each other's face. It was necessary but it hurt and chances are it will hurt for a while before it gets better.

But he wants the other man so bad. Was it always like this? He knows he's always been attracted to Scotia from the start, but this ache of being apart... When did it become so real? Charlie didn't allow himself to get involved with anyone like this since he was young, engaged and so naive.

He also knew that like Dexter, Scotia didn't seem to be able to see all the ways Charlie was flawed beyond repair. Maybe they had a point, Charlie wanted to believe, maybe he isn't the bad guy he thinks he is.

Or maybe that's exactly who he is and that's why despite it being selfish, knowing only their determination to be together won't be enough, he wants to be with Scotia. He wants him, even if he believes it will end terribly.

"Stay with me tonight, please. We don't have to fuck or anything, I just. Don't wanna be away from you anymore."

SCOTIA: "Okay, yeah," Scotia nods instantly, "Just- let me make a few calls, I'm sure I can get a hold of someone-" He hesitates and then, "Unless...you want to come home with me?" Scotia clears his throat, "He'll be asleep by now. You don't have to talk to him, be with him unless you want to. It can still be just us."

He licks his lips and then adds as an afterthought, in the interest of them talking about things now, "This isn't a test, you can say no if you want to."

CHARLIE: Charlie doesn't hesitate, just nods and reaches out to grab Scotia's hands. "Let's go."

SCOTIA: As they walk out of the bar, Scotia tells Charlie to prove he’s a wizard, circling back to the untouched matter at hand that he certainly had not forgotten, simply prioritized under the well being of their relationship.

CHARLIE: Charlie doesn't say it out loud but he's definitely thinking "How the fuck am I supposed to apparate us safely when I feel like I can't even stand right now?"

"I... I've never been there, so I can't take us there but. Is there like ah famous monument or street near your home?"

SCOTIA: Scotia is so blown away thinking to himself, there's no way this is a thing so why not play along right? He tells Charlie the name of the main road that's a five-minute walk from his house looks at Charlie like he’s nuts.

CHARLIE: Charlie thinks hard if he's ever been there and knows the place well enough, before pulling Scotia close and saying, "Hold on and don't let go. Really. Don't let go."

SCOTIA: Scotia puts his arms around Charlie tightly and hides his face into the crook of Charlie's neck, thinking, I'm taking a leap of faith with you, you crazy son of a bitch. And a snap, crackle, and pop later, he’s doubled over on the sidewalk, throwing up all he’s got onto the street. Now he’s hoping Charlie still thinks he’s cute after this new milestone.

CHARLIE: "The first time is always rough, isn't it?" Charlie laughs when Scotia's face goes green, "You said you wanted me to prove it." He shrugs

SCOTIA: Hearing Charlie’s laughter and teasing, Scotia shoves Charlie’s side despite being kneeled over. “Don’t make fun of me, you’re the one who did this! My God...you did this…”

CHARLIE: "You look like you're about to pass out, we need to get you to your house. Which direction, honey?"

SCOTIA: Scotia does not answer him, wipes his mouth, stands up, and just goes, "What the fuck was that? Is that how you-" He steps back. "Charlie, what?"

But then has to step towards Charlie again anyway to put a hand on his shoulder because he needs to steady himself.

CHARLIE: Charlie holds back his laugh, he doesn't wanna get shoved again. "So pet names are your weakness, huh. I'd so kiss you right now if your mouth didn't smell so bad, ugh, let's go, Scosh."

SCOTIA: It's hard not to believe Charlie after that so Scotia asks a hundred questions on the five-minute walk back to his place. 

"What the hell else can you do?" "What...happened to you?? Or are there more people like this" "I'm not gonna wake up and this is going to be an elaborate prank, is it?" "Charlie, did you fucking do that every time you wanted to see me?? That's absurd."

CHARLIE: "Yep, I literally bent myself in time and space just to see your cute face."

SCOTIA: Scotia stops to grin when Charlie says that. It brings him back to earth a little bit after the wild experience of apparating but as he finally finds his legs to walk again, to lead Charlie towards his home, he slips a hand into the younger man's. They rarely hold hands outside of the bedroom, let alone in the streets so it's new but Scotia doesn't want to make Charlie nervous by drawing attention to it. "Charlie, whatever you do- magic- whatever...it's never dangerous...right?" He asks hesitantly, still feeling crazy just saying it out loud.

CHARLIE: Charlie takes a quick glance at their hands together and the image of the last time their hands were like that flashed for a moment.

Scotia on top of him with his hand tight around Charlie's, pressing him into the mattress, kissing his collarbones, making him feel amazing–

Scotia's sad expression telling him "I missed you last night–

Charlie, you didn't even bother, you just left–

If you don't feel like I'm worth at least trying to be good for then you have no place here tonight–

"Right?" he heard and came back to reality. What did Scotia ask him just now? Danger in magic, okay.

"Hm, I think it's much like your type of society. We are capable of being dangerous, but we have rules, penalties, and conscience to know we shouldn't act or have those types of desires."

Charlie holds Scotia's hand tighter in his hand, wanting to reassure him it wasn't something he should worry about. "I've got an easy life, very privileged, even by wizards' standards. So I'm safe. I'm very safe here right now actually, with you holding my hand." he says, giving Scotia a wink and a smile.

SCOTIA: It's hard for Scotia not to be soothed by Charlie's smile and his easy words, the charming demeanor he presents despite himself. "Don't be upset if I ask you all of this again in the morning," He takes a deep breath, "You'll have to forgive me for wondering if I dreamt up most of it..." He gives a dry chuckle hearing about this side of Charlie's life he never knew about. "Charlie, the fact that you're here, right now...when you can do that and whatever else you can do..." He takes a breath, "It's kind of unbelievable. What I mean is that it means a lot to me. You are safe with me. You've always been."

When they get back to his place Charlie will get to watch Scotia let his babysitter go, give her a chunk of the tips he got from the night out of his pocket because she had to watch his kid for so long. But he'll show Charlie to the bedroom and tell him to make himself comfortable while he checks on Jensen real quick. Charlie will get to look around the small room that's so different from how he lives. It's an intimate look into Scotia's life but when Scotia does come back Charlie gets cuddled so hard. He'll hold him like he used to weeks ago when they were still doing this regularly. Kiss the back of his neck and try to relax him because Scotia knows even if Charlie isn't showing it, he has to be wound up about this to some extent.

CHARLIE: Charlie definitely reciprocates, even with all the things hovering in his head, reacting to Scotia's body still wins over everything He'll kiss Scotia until their lips hurt, fit his legs between Scotia's and smell his skin and let himself do what he's wanted for weeks.

SCOTIA: He loses himself in that touch, he revels in it. He missed him so much and between their kisses, Charlie will hear it. Breathlessly candid. But Scotia can lose himself in the moment and in the way they literally hold each other all he wants. He can escape their reality for a few hours and a blissful night's sleep. But the fact of the matter is he'll have to untangle himself from Charlie early in the morning because his toddler wakes up early. He'll have to tend to obligations of his life that he wants Charlie to be a part of so bad but without overwhelming him.

CHARLIE: But for once, Charlie wakes up first because he kept waking up in the night.  And one of those times, he gets thirsty and goes to the kitchen to grab some water. He basically wakes everyone up in the neighborhood almost screaming when he feels something touch his leg… And it's just Jensen

"Oh... Hi?"

Charlie's first interaction with the kid is almost him swearing and yelling. He stands there and the kid is looking at him with a tilted head clearly confused. Charlie is so awkward and scared. He'll do a childish wave with his hand and say, "I'm Charlie. You're Jensen, right?"

They end up hanging out on the couch between the kitchen and the rooms. Jensen clearly still sleepy but he was the one that climbed that first, Charlie just followed him. Charlie grabs the remote control and almost turns the TV on but Jensen's eyes went a bit wide when he touched that so Charlie felt like maybe he should not do that.

Charlie grabs one of the books on the coffee table and it's Jensen's and has thick pages filled with animals and simple scenarios. So he brings it and starts flipping through it. Not that he's interested but he has no idea what else he can do, he can't just go back to Scotia's room and leave the kid there right?

Jensen gets closer to look at it together and sometimes points and says a word, usually the names of the animals. They make their way through that book and two others before Charlie sees that Jensen isn't pointing or babbling anything more because he's basically asleep.

And now he panics again because what does one do now? He calls Jensen’s name a few times and pokes his cheek, making the boy frown, "Don't you want to sleep on your bed?"

And instead of getting up and walking back to his room, the boy raises his arms expecting Charlie to take him. He awkwardly takes Jensen back to his room and breathes relieved. F

Charlie goes to drink another cup of water and goes back to bed, close to Scotia.

SCOTIA: When Charlie comes back to bed Scotia is a sleepy bear who puts his arms around him and just tugs him close, just assuming he went to the bathroom or something. When they do get up for good Charlie will get to watch this little boy climb into his dad's arms like they are each other's worlds and that's so obvious in the way Jensen says dad and the way Scotia literally looks at his son while brushing back his hair. The way he talks to him and holds him.

Scotia literally chokes when he's talking to Jensen, trying to make introductions, "This is my b-" before aggressively clearing his throat.  "This is daddy's really good friend, okay?" Mostly because he doesn’t want to alarm Charlie, but. But the moment Jensen lays eyes on him, he shouts “Charlie!!" And Scotia is thrown off by his son knowing the name already.

CHARLIE: Charlie makes fun of Scotia for that one, "You can call me your boyfriend, you know. I think it's better than being daddy's good friend. I'd never want to be just friends with you." He leans to give Scotia a quick kiss.

When Jensen calls his name all excited, Charlie just nods like "Yep. That is... My name." He’s still getting used to this interaction with a child thing.

SCOTIA: Scotia gets all red in the face for being called out about that. Licks his lips after the little kiss he's given and tells his little son this is his boyfriend. And Jensen doesn't care because he's tiny but it means a lot to Scotia, his heart is racing.

Honestly, Scotia is just glad that Charlie didn't freak having to interact with Jensen in the morning. He doesn't question it too much. He'll put Jensen down at one point and Jensen brings that book from the coffee table to Charlie and Scotia chuckles and tells his son, "Maybe Charlie can read to you a different time, buddy. We've gotta have breakfast so Charlie doesn't run late for the day okay?" And Jensen just looks between the two of them like ...but

Scotia tries to talk a little more over breakfast but he treads lightly because he doesn't want to overwhelm Charlie first thing in the morning.

CHARLIE: Charlie pulls him by his waist and tells him quietly, "We're okay, right? I thought I could go to the bar tonight."

SCOTIA: Scotia easily moves to Charlie and holds him. He doesn't answer the question directly, rather touches his forehead to Charlie's and tells him, "I love that you're here right now. Right here, in my shitty apartment, with my decent kid. I love that. I..." He swallows as a lump of emotions seizes his throat for a moment. "I really wanted that for a while. I just didn't know how to ask for it. It'll be so much easier for you to see me now that you've been here- now that you're okay being here. I'd love to see you at the bar tonight."

CHARLIE: Charlie wants to ask why didn't he say something sooner but knows that it will lead to a whole different discussion that doesn't matter anymore. Scotia seems happy and that's what's important to Charlie. He gives Scotia a not so innocent kiss and takes a few steps back, "See you later, honey.”

He winks and apparates right there out of Scotia's house.

-FIN

[jinniesxlamp]

Goodbye, Hello - Chapter 7

LIST OF CHAPTERS –> Masterlist

The week went by agonizingly fast, although it were better days than what you have been dealing with lately. Visiting Myunghwa helped a lot with resolving unecessary thoughts and feelings you had against yourself, remembering what she had taught you to master best—tranquility, almost losing your very own touch of it.

Ever since Myunghwa passed away, the stillness you had within started to slip from your fingers, without notice; your arrogance was starting to surface, impatience, sarcasm and insensitivity towards the people around you. You took the chance to meditate with your remaining days in Jeju, taking the advice from Chairman Byeon, preparing yourself to return as a better person, a better boss and not a dismantled one.

Today was going to be different, you thought to yourself. Your heart raced from the nervousness you felt, anticipating what you had to face since the huge scandal you had caused days prior. All those people you hurt and shamed, not to mention the poor boy you must have traumatized. Not only that....Lee Jooheon, the memory was vague during that drunked night, but you remembered the significant parts of it. Just as you were ready to face the day with a new perspective, a little bit of bad luck always had to squeeze itself in.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, dreading to deal with this early morning misfortune causing a growing traffic jam in the middle of Gangnam. Moving your flat-tired car to the curb made you quadruple think, afraid it might cause another problem, but you delivered anyway. Immediately reaching for your phone, you called for a towing service which arrived sooner than you thought.

It was grueling seeing your watch tick almost five times faster than normal, knowing you had called for a compulsory 9:30 am meeting with the entire production team of Champion Trainee. What felt like three minutes was actually already thirty as the time yielded 9:15 am. Your car was already queued to be fixed, but you still had to wait.

9:15 turned to 9:30, then 10:27, 11:49 then 01:51.

Soojin had called several times for an update, apologizing and explaining to the crew and staff on your behalf regarding the four and a half hour wait. Luckily it was a Saturday, most of the people had no other schedules planned and continued to wait.

Yoongi’s POV

Secretary Soojin with the help of Daehan, one of the producers came in to the meeting room from time to time, apologizing and explaining the situation to everyone regarding the delay. Y/N had something important to attend to, as they were saying. Most people didn’t mind, but I did. I had another schedule at 2:30 for a commercial shoot with the rest of my members in one of the studios upstairs. Manager Hobeom had already called multiple times, asking for updates, wanting to know if I will be able to make it on time which I already knew I wasn’t.

“Mianhae, hyung. We’re still waiting. I don’t think I’ll be done on time.” I took a deep breath, eyeing my watch.

“Kwenchana, we already talked to the director. You need to attend to that meeting. We’ll take care of the situation here. You might have to stay a little bit later though, for the shoot I mean.”

“Kwenchana. Are the members okay? I can probably leave for awhile and come back down here later so we can do the group shoots, in that way they don’t have to stay late with me.”

“We thought about that earlier, but then again it’s too time constricting and a hassle. The whole production crew and your members already said they would wait. Just finish your meeting.”

“Oh. Arasseo” again, I sighed, starting to recognize the displeasure I was beginning to feel regarding all this.

If she had something else she needed to do prior, why schedule the meeting at that time only to delay it for four hours?

Finally she had arrived, again, apologizing for the (unreasonable) delay and started her part of the meeting right away, stealing another two hours of my time. When it had ended, goodbyes and thank yous were said. I saw her call the boy she had tormented last week into a room for a reason I did not have time to waste on.

I hurried upstairs to the commercial shoot, apologizing to the staff, crew and my members for the two hour delay which they shrugged off easy. The shoot began right away, along with my throbbing headache.

Y/N’s POV

At the end of the meeting, I decided to make the first approach in correcting the grave mistakes I have made last week. The boy whom I shamed in front of everyone came to me shaking next to Soojin.

“I’m sorry for how I acted last week. I have no excuse to validate my unprofessional and not to mention unreasonable actions. Joesonghabnida, I hope it’s not too late for your forgiveness.” I bowed, disregarding pride and prejudice as I delivered my apology gently and not passively.

I could sense the look of surprise on the poor boy’s face, unable to compose a reaction right away. But eventually he smiled kindly, relieving the heaviness in my heart.

“Kwenchana, gwangjangnim. Thank you for considering me worthy of your apology. I admire your humility. Thank you”

I am astounded with the weight that encounter took off of me seeing how that young boy walked out of the office in a much more dignified manner. A consoling smile crept across my semi-weary face. 

“Geureom, shall we call it a day?” I turned to Soojin whose eyes blinked in heavy confusion.

“Ne?” 

Clearing my throat, I gave her an amused smile as I repeated myself.

“I said, let’s go home. It’s the weekend after all. You should be spending time with your husband.”

“A-ah....dae!” 

I studied her figure as she bowed to me politely, gently grabbing her hands and held it with mine, rubbing her knuckles with my thumb.

“Jal ji naesseo?” Her eyes softened, disregarding the formality between the both of us.

“Jinjja...Eonnie, I should be the one asking you that. Aigoo” 

“Mianhae, Soojinah. Eonnie hasn’t checked on you for awhile”

“Eonnie, I’m doing well. Actually... I think I might even be pregnant” my eyes widened as I pulled back, just enough to see her entirely, biting her lip in excitement

“J-jinjja?!? Omo!!! Ottoke” I panicked, covering my mouth, not wanting to be loud.

“Ya, you need to go home! Get some rest and eat more, aigoo, your shirt is too loose--ottoke--I should buy you vitamins--have you gone to your doctor--is Youngjae taking care of you???”

It was never ending; the storm of emotions, pleasant ones at least, were hard to conceal.

“Dae, dae. Everything is in order and yes, Youngjae has been pampering me more than ever since I told him.”

“Geureom, now it’s time for you to go home. I’ll have the company driver drop you off, no ifs, no buts!”

“Ahhh jamkkanman! Let me just take this upstairs to Director Kang, he needs this by today.”

“What is it?” Reaching out my hand towards her, I asked for the folder she almost didn’t want to give. 

“It’s the script you approved for the Innis Free commercial they’re shooting on Monday with Song Hye Kyo.” She continued, allowing me to check the contents of the envelope.

“Arasseo, I’ll take care of it”

“Ani, it’s okay. It’ll only take ten minutes to drop it off.”

“Ani, kwenchana, I haven’t seen Director Kang in awhile. I’d like to say hi, we are good friends after all”

Finally, she gave in, letting go of the duty, permitting me to deliver it to Director Kang personally. 

--

Your two-floor walk wasn’t too bad considering you took the stairs, adding an extra cardio exercise to your day. Plus, your phone ringing three times before you stepped inside the studio room where Director Kang was working. The last phone call ended just in time for you to spot him standing on one corner, his back faced against you. The excitement you felt was indescribable, waiting to see a good friend of yours after almost a year. You could hear his soothing, yet very manly voice as you drew closer. Apparently, he was having a casual conversation with several bodies who were seated in front of him, covered by the equipment.

“Ehem. Annyeonghaseyo, PDnim”

You sounded, folding your lips, waiting for Director Kang to turn. 

However, the knot of excitement brewing in your stomach wasn’t meant for him—his body shift revealed the perfect view of three handsome faces, ones which were covered by the speakers and cameras earlier. Their eyes, same as yours, were startled, poignant and unsure. 

“Ya!!! Jeongmal, wah. Is this really you, Y/N?”

“A-ah d-dae” you giggled nervously, ungluing your eyes from the sight that had greeted you with memories of the past. 

“Wah, jinjja, how long has it been? You’re one of the big fishes now. It’s almost impossible to meet you personally in and outside work”

“You’re overly exaggerating, I came to see you didn’t I? I even brought your script for you” you responded casually, handing him the folder which he took a peek at.

“Did it pass your standards, gwanjangnim?” Director Kang asked teasingly.

“Geureomyo~ you’re a hard one to say no to” you said friskily.

“Ah, before you leave, let me introduce you to a few people. I’m sure you’ll bump heads in this industry soon.”

Again, the attention that was spared for earlier had been redirected, although this time, the air had gotten more natural than dense. 

“Yeoreobun, I’d like to introduce you to a good friend of mine, we interned together back in the days, this is Y/N. 

—Y/N, I’m almost sure you know who they are but I’d personally like to introduce them to you. 방탄소년단 members, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok”

Namjoon’s POV

We sat quietly, listening to the exchange of words between Director Kang and Y/N. The Y/N who we haven’t heard from or seen in a long time. Hoseok and Jin-hyung kept still, though I could sense the tinge of awkwardness from them. Who is there to blame? This was too much of an unexpected encounter, none of us saw it coming. Minutes later the stilted aura began to subside, right before Director Kang introduced us to each other. The three of us looked at her warmly, like a silent “have you been well” from our end, she did the same. Before we even had the chance to exchange greetings, Director Kang excused himself, attending to one of the staff who needed clarification at the other end of the room.

“Have you been well?” She asked.

“Oh” Hoseok answered, nodding his head as he smiled subtly.

“How long has it been? Three? Four?” Jin-hyung, now making an effort to keep the conversation going approached rather gently, unlike his usual loud greeting. It was a happy one though.

“Five, actually” a weak but tender smile slipped from her lips.

I kept a steady eye on her, her tiny face and flowy dress, the firmness in her tone when she spoke, the way she carried herself. She looked different, but she felt the same. The same Y/N we loved and cared for in the past.

“It’s nice seeing you, Namjoonssi” startled, I shook my head, eyes blinking nervously which I managed to control right away.

“Likewise, Y/N” I muttered back, bowing my head slightly for formality, though unecessary.

“Where have you been all these years?” Hobi asked.

“Just here really. I went back to school since the um— since the incident”

“Ah. I see, I see” Hobi, again, replied while Jin-hyung and myself continued to nod our heads.

Jin-hyung attempted to ask another question which was interrupted out of the blue by a groaning, irritated voice.

“Jin-hyung, did you bring your headache pill?” A moaning Yoongi entered from the corner, rubbing his forehead roughly with his right hand. He didn’t notice Y/N’s presence until he turned his back on us, facing towards her. His face sourer at the sight. No greetings were heard from the both of them. Y/N stood awkwardly, almost looking like she wanted to initiate a wholesome conversation, however Yoongi was the complete opposite—purposely refusing to spare her a glance, looking in all other directions but hers. We waited gruesomely for Jin-hyung to come back with the pill.

“Yeogi” Jin-hyung handed him two pills, passing him a bottle of water with it.

“Kwenchana? How many more do you have to do?” Asked Jin-hyung.

“Seven more.” Yoongi answered dully.

“Seven?! Ya, you don’t look so good. Sit down for awhile”

They were referring to the number of scenes Yoongi still had to finish. A moment of silence occurred as we watched him gulp half a bottle of water, wiping the remnants off his lips.

“If I had started on time, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this.” He spat using his words, putting no effort in hiding his vexation.

“Ya, ya. Hajima, it’ll only worsen your headache.” Jin-hyung tried to ease him, before the situation escalated, attempting to massage Yoongi’s tensed shoulders. However, it didn’t stop him. Of course...when did anything ever when he was mad? A sardonic grunt he let out.

“Ani. I’m not going to have all these people wait for my personal reasons. Isn’t it a mockery for professionals to cause delays so they can attend to other affairs?” 

I noticed Y/N’s eyes drooping. It was obviously directed towards her, Yoongi made sure she knew that.

“I—” again, with a disgusting tone, indirectly addressing what he had to say

“—personally can’t stand people who waste my time. Especially when they didn’t deserve it in the first place.” With that said, he left.

It was hard not to catch the frustration drawn across Jin-hyung’s handsome face. Hoseok sighed, head turning left and right.

“Mian, Y/N. He hasn’t been sleeping well these past days” said Jin-hyung, shifting his attention to Y/N who was forcing a smile despite the awkwardness. She waited for Director Kang to return then left. 

Sometime after her departure, a well-built man in a black suit hurriedly ran towards where we were, hunched back as he struggled to catch his breath. Upon regaining composure, he introduced himself as Mr. Park Il Sung, head of the security department and right away explained the sudden situation.

“Joesonghabnida, I didn’t mean to startle you. We were told that gwangjangnim was last seen in this studio. Do you, by chance, know where she had gone?”

Director Kang looked at him with dewy-eyes before responding.

“Ah, Y/N? D-dae, she just left a little while ago” 

“What’s going on?” before the conversation resumed, Yoongi happened to arrive, perhaps to grab a bottle of water from the food station nearby. 

“Gabjagi...wae?” Inquired director Kang towards the security personnel.

“Her vehicle has been hit and run in the parking lot. We wanted to let her know ahead of time.”

Y/N’s POV

“Ani, kwenchana. I sent the company driver elsewhere. Please don’t worry about the matter. I’ll manage to get home safely. Kamsahambnida, Mr. Park” I sighed, trying to relax myself as I ended the three minute call. 

I had just been told that my vehicle, which was just returned from the shop after my morning incident, was hit and run at the parking lot. The security personnel had already arranged for it to be investigated and repaired, although they insisted I was brought home by the company driver who I sent to bring Soojin home. 

“Grae, this maybe an opportunity for me to experience an old life of mine” I whispered to myself, walking towards the bus stop which I had not been to in years. 

--

The dinner table was unusually quiet tonight with merely the sound of slurped soup and chopstick clanking heard instead of voices. Everyone was just...hungry after a restless day. They were all quick to tidy up. Maknaes were first to leave the kitchen of course, Jungkook and Taehyung going back to their game dens, Jimin watching a movie by the living room. Namjoon had not left the dinning room table, fiddling with his phone with a cup of hot tea sitting in front of him. Hoseok took a seat across him, easing his body from doing the dishes. And of course, Jin taking out an entire case of beer from the fridge. Hence, the drinking began.

“How’s your headache?” Asked Seokjin with a sour face, slumping his third can onto the marble. 

“Better that it was” responded Yoongi almost emotionless.

“Geundae..earlier” Hoseok, with his head tilted sideways, apparently had something he wanted to discuss but could not deliver through. But the silence eventually unfolded the topic. They all knew what he was pertaining to. 

Yoongi cleared his throat, drawing all eyes on him.

“What?” As always, dodging the subject with his indifference. 

“Ya! Hajima. Do you really think we’re that naive? Stop acting like you don’t know, we’ve lived together for years. We know just about every layer of skin you have” snarled the eldest, annoyed at the dumb-play of his dongsaeng. 

“Geurotchi! Aigo! How could you be so harsh to her?” Hoseok’s face drew all sorts of expressions all over it as he protested. Namjoon only watched.

Yoongi could neither disagree or agree to how they had reacted, remembering the inhumane things he had said to you earlier. Had he known that a flat tire was the cause of your delay, he would not have said the things he did. Also, overhearing Mr. Park’s conversation with you over the phone regarding your hit-and-ran vehicle did not aid his guilt. 

“I believe she deserves an apology, hyung” spoke Namjoon neutrally, remaining considerate to both parties.

At this point, they had already ganged up on him, rubbing his fault directly on his face. Barely giving him a chance to speak.

“Ara, ara—“ responded Min Yoongi in defeat. Clearing his throat, avoiding any eye contact.

“—I’ll apologize when I see her tomorrow” he said quietly.

All of a sudden, he felt three wide-eyed glares cornering him. This was just frustrating. 

“You do know you won’t be on the show for a week, right?” 

Yoongi eyed Namjoon dumbfounded. No response, whatsoever.

This gave him away. He forgot. 

“Tsk, jinjja—” huffed Jin sarcastically, not sure how to react to his oblivion. 

“—Ya, Min Yoongi....we’re scheduled for Japan next week”

[jokerrenwriting]

Old Friend - One-Shot

I hopped off the train near Shibuya. I hadn’t been to Tokyo since I was pretty young. The first time I lived in Japan, my family had lived in a smaller town outside the big city, but would go into the city to shop or go to the theatre or just sight-see.

It was almost odd to be back. I spent three young years in Japan before moving back to America, where I was born and mostly raised, but I’d definitely missed Japan. A lot had changed since I was a kid. Tokyo seemed simultaneously bigger and yet smaller at the same time. I knew it seemed smaller because I was taller now that I wasn’t a child, but it was also bigger because I was traversing it alone. No parents guiding me.

I looked down at my phone, looking for places to get some dinner before looking for my hotel. It was getting late and I’d need to eat quickly.

LeBlanc Café, read the navigation app on my phone. It had good reviews and wasn’t far. Something about curry and coffee. I wasn’t a huge fan of coffee and my spice tolerance was questionable at best, but I figured they’d have more on the menu than just that.

“Here I come,” I muttered, reading the walking directions to get there and trying to memorize it.

I headed away from the train platform toward the rest of the city.

I got more surprised looks from passersby that I was reading signs effortlessly than I did from people who realized I was a white American in the middle of Tokyo---tourists weren’t uncommon I was sure, but I doubted most of them could read Japanese fluently.

“Now remember,” I heard my dad’s voice murmur in my mind from when I was living in Japan as a kid. “Turn your English voice off while we’re here.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Even switching the language of my phone to Japanese again. It had been a while since I did so in order to practice and keep my skills up.

I followed street signs and my phone’s navigation app to LeBlanc Café.

It was late in Japan but that meant it was probably early-morning back home. Dinner here was really more like breakfast for me.

I ducked into the café and looked around. It was quaint and somewhat small, but pleasant. The air smelled like coffee with the underlying spice of curry. An older gentleman was standing behind the counter. “Welcome to LeBlanc,” he greeted in English, sounding somewhat tired, upon noticing my distinctly-tourist appearance.

“Thank you. This is a lovely café,” I replied. In Japanese.

He perked up. “You know Japanese?” he asked.

I nodded with a smile. “Yes. I spent several years living here with my parents when I was a kid. We’re American but we speak Japanese at our house even now just to keep our skills up.” I sat at the counter, reading the menu. “That pastry looks delicious. As does some cocoa.”

“Coming right up.” He started putting together my order while I rifled through my bag for my money. I’d exchanged my dollars for yen back in America in the airport and was all ready for my trip.

“So how come you spent several years here?” the boss asked.

“My father’s work brought him here. And he brought his family with him.”

“I see. Your Japanese is quite good.”

“Thanks. I’m a little rusty but I think I’m doing okay.”

“You are.”

“Thank you.”

Footsteps on stairs caught my ears. I glanced off to the left.

A boy about my age was coming down the stairs with an apron over his jeans-and-a-V-neck outfit.

“Ooh. A tourist,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose, stealing a glance at me.

The manager glanced at me, like he was waiting for me to reveal I understood Japanese, with a hint of amusement wrinkling his forehead. I smirked at the counter.

I shrugged. “I mean, sorta. It’s been a while since I visited Tokyo, but my mom used to bring me shopping downtown,” I said.

The boy whirled to stare at me in surprise.

My eyes widened. “Wait... Ren?!” I demanded.

The boy was familiar. He’d aged but he looked the same as he had when we were kids in that town outside the city. Except the glasses. Those happened sometime between the last time I saw him and this time.

He nodded. “Ye... Yeah,” he said. “I... never thought I’d see you again.”

The manager started laughing. “Kid, you flew across an ocean and ran into someone you know?” he joked.

I laughed. “Yeah. This dork and I were friends back in the town my parents moved me to. We fell out of contact for... how long’s it been now? Seven years? Ten? How old were we when I moved back to America?” I pushed a hand through my hair to get it out of my way. “I’m so glad I found you again. Never thought I would but... we gotta exchange emails at least so we can stay in touch. I missed you!”

“Yeah me too.” He handed me the cocoa I ordered and leaned against the other side of the counter. “Tell me about America. How’s it been?”

“It’s been America. Big and loud and American. But I miss Japan and my friends here a lot too.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.” I took a sip of my cocoa. “Of course, I’m not here for long. I have a couple weeks here to see about transferring to high school before flying back. But if I get accepted to high school here, I might move to some dorms here for my last few years of high school.”

“If you do, you’ll have to let me know,” Ren said.

“I will. No way am I letting you out of my life permanently ever again now that I found you.”

Ren smirked. “Think it’s fate?” he teased. “Finding me in a city where neither of us lived before we knew each other. I mean, we shouldn’t have ever found one another ever again. And yet here we are.”

I snickered. “I don’t believe in fate, Ren. I never did. You knew that.”

He laughed. “Me neither. We’re free to choose our own paths.”

“Agreed.” I kicked my feet on the stool that was way too tall for even a tall person and smiled. “I don’t think it was fate that we found each other, but I don’t think it was luck or coincidence either. I think it was just... a happy accident.”

“Fair enough.” He glanced at the clock. “Hey, once I’m done with my shift here we should exchange information.”

“Yeah. Definitely. I wanna stay in touch this time.”

“Me too. I missed you.”

I scrawled the address of my hotel on the café serviette and passed it to him. “For when you’re done with your shift.”

“Thanks.” He put the serviette in his pocket. 

*^*^*^*^*

The phone in my hotel room rang. Figuring I knew who would be on the other line, I scooped it up. “Hello?”

“Hello. Your date has arrived,” the receptionist’s voice said.

I blinked. Date? I thought. Geez, Ren. Couldn’t you have just said “friend?”

“Uh, thank you. Tell him I’ll be right down,” I said.

Sighing, I pulled on my leather jacket and glanced in the mirror. I didn’t look like I was ready to go on a date but if I’d known that was Ren’s intention I would have spruced up my appearance. Too late now.

Maybe he wasn’t intending on making it a date though. Maybe he just said that to the receptionist as an explanation to get her to call my room.

Wouldn’t know till I got downstairs.

The jet lag was seriously getting to me. It was already late enough at night as it was. I’d gone to LeBlanc for dinner several hours before and now the nightlife scene was cropping up out the window. The neon of the signs and billboards beginning to stand out against the dark backdrop of the sky.

Down at the front desk, Ren was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking around vaguely. “Ren!” I called when I caught sight of him. He turned to me with a smile and met me in the middle. I wrapped my arms around him. “Glad you found this place.”

“Wasn’t hard. I’m getting used to the city,” he replied. He pulled out of the hug to look at me. “Wow. You look exhausted. How about we go back upstairs, exchange email addresses and so on, and I tuck you into bed?”

“Ren,” I sighed in sarcastic complaint. “We’re sixteen. I don’t need you to tuck me in. But I wouldn’t say no to going back upstairs and getting some rest.”

“Okay good. Let’s go then.”

I snickered and led him back up to my hotel room. It was a small single queen but I didn’t anticipate hosting anyone. I handed Ren my phone and flopped facedown on one side of the bed. He perched carefully on the other side, holding my phone in one hand and his in the other.

I assume he exchanged our contact information, because I had his the next morning when I woke up, but I fell asleep within moments of handing him the phone. I’d been overwhelmed and overtaken by jet lag.

There was a note in the hotel stationary on the bedside next to me. You were tired so after I exchanged our information I tucked you in just as I said I would and went home. I’m living above LeBlanc. If you get another chance to stop by, I’ll see you there. -Ren

I couldn’t help but chuckle and shake my head. He’d removed my shoes and socks but otherwise just put me under the covers fully-clothed. My suitcase was sitting where I left it in the corner, unopened.

At the very least he respected my modesty. That was nice.

I pulled my phone out and made a chatroom with him. Sorry I passed out last night.

Don’t be. You were exhausted. You looked ready to topple in the lobby.

... Thanks.

No problem.

And thanks for tucking me in.

Just trying to be nice.

You always were and are. You’ll have to tell me what’s up and why you’re living above LeBlanc later, okay? I’m gonna get some stuff done and I’ll get back to you ASAP, promise.

Yeah definitely. Talk later.

Bye. :-)

See ya. :-D

I threw the covers off and moved to get ready for the day.

I’d told Ren that I didn’t believe in fate and I wasn’t lying. But I really couldn’t come up with any other plausible reason for he and I to find each other again after all these years somewhere different from where we knew each other in the past.

Maybe sometimes people were just meant to meet. Over and over.

[aurafanfiction]

Life Is Hard (One Shots) Part 2

Chapter Two: Happy Memories

Donald shivered as he fumbled around in his pockets for the house key that Scrooge had entrusted him with. With his houseboat sunk under the dark waters of the bay he had no choice but to live inside the mansion at this point. At least there would be a fireplace inside, he thought to himself as he struggled to produce the key. It was oddly breezy tonight.

           He emptied the contents of his pockets onto the doorstep. Some change clinked against the stone, some rolling off into the night. Bits of garbage from his day that inevitably got stuffed into his pocket when no bins were to be found also fell out. He briefly thought that if Scrooge would pony up some money for a light out here, then he wouldn’t have to sift through a pile of nonsense by moonlight.

           Just as his fingers finally touched something that resembled his key the door to the mansion swung open. Donald looked up, on his hands and knees.

           “What’re ya doing down there making all that racket?” Scrooge said, looking down on him.

           Donald sighed. “I barely made a peep, how could you have heard me?”

           “Are you kidding, I can hear a penny drop from fifty yards.” Scrooge answered as Donald hastily scooped up the change that he had dropped prior.

           Scrooge’s nephew stood up and followed him inside and over to the cozy looking red sofa in the middle of the living area. The two of them sat down, and Scrooge offered him a cup of the tea he’d been enjoying to which Donald quickly, yet politely, refused. He knew that tea would taste more like hot water than anything.

           Donald never realized how eerie the mansion looked at night. He’d only ever come in to tuck tell the boys goodnight, never staying long enough to take a good look when the sun went down. The fireplace housed a dancing flame, the only source of light in the room, casting shadows which joined in its performance.

           “Working late again?” Scrooge asked him, a hint of judgment in his tone.

           “I just got done working a double shift. One of the other workers called in, and I couldn’t pass up the chance to get some extra cash.” He yawned, even by firelight Scrooge could tell that his nephew’s eyes were heavy and dark.

           The old duck looked him over, with those eyes full of pity that Donald didn’t care for at all. Donald had always been one to push himself to his limits trying to earn money so his boys could be happy. So they could have toys, and clothes and food. Now that they lived With Scrooge some of that pressure should have been taken off of him, but it still didn't feel that way. In fact, he’d been working even more than usual.

           Donald knew that his Uncle didn’t mean to make him feel so worthless compared to him, but that didn’t make it better. He knew his kids could get more from Scrooge than anything he could give them, but still, he worked himself to exhaustion every day trying to provide something for them. To show his kids that he could take care of them. It would be easier if people would stop it with that damn look all the time.

           “Donald, you know you and the boys are welcome to stay here as long as you want? You don’t have to push yourself so hard to earn extra money for them.”

           For Donald, It was nights like this that were the hardest. Why couldn’t his Uncle have just been asleep? He surely didn’t need this talk right now. He knew they would always be welcome here, heck he was even grateful for that. But he felt like less than nothing compared to his Uncle. Lately, he couldn’t help that feeling.

           Scrooge reached out and touched his shoulder. “It’s not just for you and the boys you know? It gets quite lonely in this empty mansion without the kids running around all day; I want you all to stay Donald. Just don’t tell anyone I said that, can’t have people thinking I’ve gone soft.” He added in a weak attempt at easing the tension.

           The attempt at humor did cause Donald to chuckle a little. It was rare for his Uncle to admit he cared about anything other than money.

           “You’ve given my boys more than they ever got from me the whole ten years that I’ve raised them. And don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that they have good food and a warm place to sleep. I’m just upset that I can’t be the one to give them all those things. They must think I’m such a failure” Donald put his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes. “Everyone gives me this look like they’re surprised that I even bother to keep going. That they’re sorry for me. What would Della…”

           “There isn’t anything for them to feel sorry about. Sure you may not have as much money as some, or most even, but the things that matter when you’re raising kids don’t have anything to do with the cost of your living arrangement or how fancy your clothes look. You’ve done a wonderful job with the things that count.”

           Donald sat and listened to his Uncle as he lectured him about not feeling depressed of all things.

           “What do you even know about raising kids?” Donald spat before taking in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

           “No, that’s exactly right! I don’t know all of the hardships that came with raising those boys. You might think you can’t provide as well as I can, but you’re wrong lad. You’ve already got a ten year head start on me in the providing department.”

           “Oh please, you get to take them on these grand adventures everyday, feed them food I’ve never been able to afford, give them a massive home to run around in, and I don’t have a place in that part of their lives. They’ve probably already forgotten all those boring years living on the boat with me.”

            “Nonsense, you know those boys up there waited up an hour past their bedtime for you to come home tonight? They could barely keep their eyes open they were so tired, but you know why they wanted to wait?”

           Donald shook his head. “No, and why did you even let them stay up so late in the first place? You know bedtime is at nine.”

           “Come now Donald that’s really beside the point. The kids stayed up because you always come in there and kiss them goodnight before they sleep, which they no doubt pretend to hate when they’re around you, sure. But they missed that tonight, I could tell they were worried about where you were. You haven’t exactly been around much with your working; they just wanted to see you once today. All this extra work you’ve been doing is what’s letting them down, not your lack of money. And if you think they could ever forget anything you do you’re wrong. You’re the only dad they’ve got Donald.”

           A wave of guilt washed over Donald. He had been working a lot these last few weeks. He left today before the boys got up and got back after they were asleep. They hadn’t had a chance to see him all day. It was like that more often than he’d care to admit. Maybe all he needed to give them was a little more time. Perhaps that would help this feeling of failure he’d been stuck with lately.

           “Your boys love you, Donald, you’ve done a great job raising them. But forget this notion that you have to provide all the monetary support for them to respect you. They already love you for all of the other things you do for them I’m sure.”

           Their heads turned suddenly as they heard a loud creak come from the stairs nearby. Three young ducks looking very sleepy were crouched on them trying to conceal themselves behind the large railing and failing miserably.

           “Boys come on down; we know you’re listening.” Donald couldn’t help but smile as the very tired ducks waddled their way over to the sofa to join their uncles. The three brothers climbed onto the couch and cuddled up next to Donald, laying their heads on his shoulders and lap.

           “I thought you went to sleep ages ago,” Scrooge mentioned as the three of them shared a yawn.

           Huey rubbed his eyes. “We did for a little while, but then I wanted to get some water and woke up Dewey and Louie on accident, and then we heard you talking down here and got curious.”

           “Sorry dad, we heard you are talking about us, and your money and stuff,” Dewey said.

           Donald still couldn’t get used to them calling him that. Ever since Louie told his brothers that they were free to call him that whenever they wanted, they’d been saying it a lot. He liked it that they thought of him like that, but it was still weird to hear.

           Donald ran his hand through Dewey’s messy hair. “You don’t have to be sorry boys. I’m the one who should be sorry; you shouldn’t have to hear me talk about stuff like that. That’s adult stuff that you shouldn’t worry about okay?”

           “But we love you no matter how much money you make.” Louie wrapped his arm around his Uncle. The boys were always very clingy when they were tired.

           Dewey scooched a little closer to Donald. “Yeah, but we wish you weren’t working so much. We don’t ever get to see you anymore. We’d rather spend time with you, even if it means we don’t get as many toys and stuff.”

           “We’re worried about you,” Huey brought up.

           Donald was now feeling terrible. It was true; he had been neglecting them lately in favor of working longer and longer hours. It couldn’t be helped if he felt like he was letting them down either way. It’s just the way he felt. What made it worse was that they had to see him in such a state.

           “You know boys; everyone has times in life where they feel a little sad. Sometimes we know why, and other times it just takes us over for no reason. And no matter what you do it doesn’t want to go away.”

           Scrooge cleared his throat on the other side of the couch “Eh, Donald? Is this an appropriate conversion to have?” His eyes darted towards his grand-nephews then back at Donald.

           “They have as much right to know about how I’ve been feeling as anyone.”

           The kids looked up at Donald, all of them seemed a little confused. It was strange hearing their Uncle, who was usually so happy around people talk like this.

           “Boys when I found out your mom disappeared I swore I’d always take care of you in her place. But I feel like I’ve been letting her down lately. I don’t make enough money to take care of you the way you deserve…”

           “What are you talking about?” Huey interrupted him. “Shouldn’t we get to be the judges of whether or not you’re taking care of us well?”

           “Yeah, we love having you as our dad,” Dewey added. “Even if you can be boring sometimes.”

           Donald chuckled at that. He supposed that he could be rather boring, especially compared to their mutually much richer Uncle.

           “Yup and you always made sure we had clothes and food. But you also worked your butt off to give us toys, and to take us out places.” Louie joined in trying to cheer up their uncle. “You’re one of the hardest working ducks I know.”

           “And you were always there when we needed you too. You think we forgot that stuff but we remember some things. Like what about when we were five? Dewey was starting to have all those nightmares, and you got him that stuffed animal to make him feel better. He still sleeps with that thing.” Huey giggled.

           Dewey blushed a little. He did still sleep with that stuffed dog hidden under his pillow; he didn’t realize that his brother’s knew about that. It didn’t matter anyway, the toy still made him feel close to his Uncle.

           Donald thought back to that time, it felt like such a long time ago. The boys had been about to start school that year, and the separation anxiety had been affecting Dewey and Louie way more than their older brother. They didn’t want to be away from him for a whole school day; they wanted to stay with him. Maybe it was his fault that they had been so dependent on him, perhaps he had been too overprotective?

           The nights following that one had been hard. Louie was handling the notion of attending school a little better after Donald had assured him that he’d have his brothers there to keep him company. Dewey, on the other hand, would not stop having these horrible nightmares about being abandoned. He had tried to assure his nephew that of course he’d never do something like that, and that he’d always be there. The dreams persisted.

           Sleepless nights had become normal in the following weeks. Donald had allowed Dewey to sleep in his bed, which had helped a little. But it wasn’t until he’d thought to try buying him a little friend, something to comfort him when he felt alone, that he managed to stop the nightmares.

           “Dewey, this is Spot.” He had said, extending a small stuffed dog. It was a simple, cheap-looking brown dog with white spots and floppy ears, but to Dewey it would become his best friend. “He’s my special friend, and he’ll keep you company whenever we have to be apart.”

           Dewey reached out his little hand as Donald gently gave his nephew the toy.

           “When you have him with you, you’ll have me with you too, that way you’ll never have to feel lonely. He’s a little bit magic that way.” Donald smiled as his little boy stared in wonder at the gift.

           Things like that, they weren’t in any of the books that he had read. For most of their lives so far he felt like he’d been winging pretty much everything as he went. It's not like he was expecting to have to raise three boys after all. Even so, he was proud of the young men he’d raised; they could have turned out awful with the life his kids had to go through, instead, they turned out to be good boys, mischievous boys, sure, but at least they were kind. That was more important to him than anything.

           Dewey had squeezed that little puppy toy so hard when Donald gave it to him. He was glad that he loved it so much, and kind of proud that he was able to come up with the idea, as simple as it seemed.

           Once Dewey had Spot to sleep with the nightmares seemed to stop, and as far as he knew they never came back. He couldn't beleive that his boys remembered that time.

           Donald snapped back to reality as he saw his boys staring up at him, probably wondering why he hadn’t answered the question Huey had posed a moment ago.

           “Of course I remember that day, I couldn’t sleep for weeks because Dewey kept waking me up every night. That’s hard to forget.” Donald laughed.

           The boys were too sleepy to let out more than a soft chuckle. Louie glanced up at his Uncle and smiled.

           “Yeah and you accepted me for who I am, not every parent would do that. I was so scared to tell you that I had a crush on that boy in class, but you made me feel like it was a totally normal thing,” Louie explained. “You didn’t need money for that, either.”

           Dewey chimed in wanting to include himself in the conversation. “Hey, what about that time when Huey was getting picked on for being a huge nerd and almost wanted to quit school,”

           Huey glared at his brother. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

           “I can call you a nerd ‘cause I’m your brother; it’s only mean if other people do it,” Dewey said, trying to explain how sibling privileges work. “Besides, you know I love ya that way.”

           Donald had already tuned out his kid's bickering, a skill that had been well developed over the years, thinking back to the incident they were referring to. That had been another case he hadn’t thought to prepare for.

           That day had started out perfectly normal as he recalled. Donald sent the boys on their way to school; they had just begun their 3rd-grade classes about a month ago, and Huey was loving all the new topics they were learning. It pleased Donald to know that he wouldn’t have to convince at least one of his boys to go to school every morning.

           Huey was always explaining to him how to do different math problems and the newer, bigger, words they were learning. Honestly it was stuff that Donald himself had forgotten a long time ago having been out of school for so long, but he loved seeing that his boy was excited about it all.

           What he hadn’t thought about was the fact that the kids would get more ruthless the older they got, and they had started making fun of Huey for being so smart.

           Donald remembered squeezing his oldest child in a tight hug as he bawled his eyes out. He had picked them up from class, and according to Huey’s brothers, the other kids had been teasing him because he liked learning so much. Dewey and Louie had stood up for their brother, and that made him the proudest of all, but that didn’t change the fact that he had a crying eight-year-old clinging to him. Just great.

           When the four of them got home, he pulled Huey to the side to talk with him. It took a while for him to finally stop crying long enough to get any words in.

           Donald moved Huey so that he was standing in front of him. His eyes were puffy and red, he sniffled as Donald held him there.

           “Huey, honey, what happened.” Donald had asked him with the soothing voice he used to calm his angry or crying kids. He waited very patiently for Huey to get his words out.

           “I never w-want to go back to s-school, ever again!” Huey hiccuped. “They called me a nerd; they said I’d n-never get any friends ‘cause everyone h-hates smart kids who know lots of stuff.”

           Donald rubbed Huey’s back comfortingly. “Huey, you love school and learning. Don’t let some bullies stop you from doing the things you like.” He picked up the small duck and placed him onto the couch next to him. “Kids get jealous of people who are smarter than them, so they call them bad names and make fun of them.” Donald explained, looking right into his nephew’s eyes. “You are going to be a great scientist, or engineer, or anything that you want because you’re such a smart kid.”

           “Really?” Huey sniffled.

           Donald smiled at his boy. “Absolutely kiddo, people are going to call you a nerd, but be proud of it, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Wear that title like a badge of honor. One day you’re gonna be the boss of all those bullies, and you’ll be doing amazing things with all the knowledge you’ll have.”

           Huey nodded, accepting his uncles words of wisdom.

           “So do you think we can try going back to school tomorrow.” Donald asked. His 8-year-old nodded and gave him a big hug. “That’s my boy.”

           “You were lost in thought again.” He heard Scrooge quietly tell him, as he drifted back into reality once more.

           Donald glanced down at his boys. All of them were fast asleep in his lap just like when they were little. For a moment he felt a short pain in his heart. He wished Della could have seen the wonderful children she gave birth to. That she could see how thoughtful and kind they had turned out to be, going so far as to try to comfort him when his deression had overtaken him.

           He couldn’t believe that his boys actually did remember some of those things. Maybe he had some impact in their lives after all. He was lucky to have them.

           They’re just like you sis, he thought to himself as they snored softly. They really do make everything around them so much better. Heck, they managed to bring Scrooge and I back together after all these years. All I want is for them to be happy, maybe money isn’t the answer? I need to be here for them, like I used to be before we started living here, and they can be here for me too.

           I wonder if you’re still out there Della. Sometimes I hope that you found a way to survive up there for all these years. I know that’s a silly dream, but what I wouldn’t give to have it be true. For you to see your boys for the first time. All I know is that until then, even if that’s forever, I will take care of these kids. I can’t give them money, but I’ll give them enough love for you and I both. That’s my new promise to you.

           Donald stretched out his arms. “Well I’m gonna get these sleepy heads back into bed, mind carrying one?” Donald asked his Uncle. “They’re not as light as they used to be, two is pretty much my limit.”

           Scrooge nodded. “Sounds good, then you should get some well earned sleep too. And don’t you worry about money anymore alright? I may be cheap but I do care about you and the boys, I’m happy to get you anything you need. And that doesn’t make you any less of a parent to them. I hope they were able to show you that”

           Donald nodded and smiled at that. Scrooge lifted Huey gently off of the sofa, careful not to wake him. Donald took Dewey and Louie in each arm holding them close to his chest as they worked there way to the boys bedroom.

           The elder ducks placed each one in their beds before Scrooge headed for his own room. Donald stayed behind a moment, watching his boys sleep. They looked so at peace, he was glad that they could still sleep soundly after everything they’d learned this month about their mother. He leaned over each one and kissed them each on their foreheads before turning towards the door.

           “Goodnight my sons.”

           He knew he would never shake of the lingering sadness of everything that he’d lost ten years ago. How could he? And maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to give them everything in the world. But these boys of his were still here with him,  and they were enough. They had to be enough. And he’d give them all the love in the world instead.

Thanks for reading this whole thing. I hope it brought you some sort of enjoyment today. =) As always any comments are greatly appreciated and I hope you all have a beautiful day. 

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XIII

Let Me Go

Trigger warnings: canon language/violence/gun, drug and alcohol use. Suggestive/mature content

Bloody mess warning!

Game spoilers!

Please enjoy

 “My dad’s old Highwayman would’ve come in handy right about now. Are we sure we’re still on ninety-five? I figured there would be a little more asphalt than this. ”

A week out from Sanctuary, Wraith’s caravan had been traveling in almost nonstop rain and the road was thick with mud.

“Was that a truck? I’d think we’d need some big tires for this slop, ya feel me?”

“Nothing can stop a Highwayman!” Wraith did her best impression of the spokesperson but then frowned to herself when she realized she was the only person to have actually ever heard the original commercial.

“I’d rather have a vertibird… fly above all… nngh… stupid… wet… CRAP!” Falling over sideways, MacCready lay defeated and motionless as the ever helpful Dogmeat licked his face.

Deacon fished him out, smiling at the cork-like pop, “No thank you, I’d rather not.”

“How long, in a car would this trip have taken anyway?” Hancock crouched slightly, “You want me to give you a piggyback ride, MacCready?”

“Naw man, I’m all gross and… oh… very funny.”

Laughing at them, Wraith snapped her fingers, “I don’t even have the heart to tell you. A Blitz would have gotten us there like that.” She smiled as she reminisced, “Plus they had those really cool gull-wing doors!”

“What kinda doors?”

Raising her arms out to either side, Wraith bent her elbows and spread her fingers like pinions on a wing, “Like this.”

“I know what it means, sunshine. Wanted to see if you’d make a silly pose.”

“I’m not silly! I’m a majestic shorebird.”

A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as Deacon enjoyed listening to and occasionally joining the trio’s banter. However, while maintaining the Harley character he had to be careful about breaking into his establish Deacon-the-funny-guy routine; laughing too loud or too frequently. Successfully gaining enough muscle mass to almost completely change his physicality, along with a full, red beard and without his glasses, he was completely unrecognizable even since Valentine’s wedding. Hancock, MacCready and Wraith had been consistent with calling him by his alter ego and he along with the five synth refugees all remained safely anonymous.

“Yes general, this is the highway. Behold your tax dollars at work.”

“Well… I’m gonna write my congressman…” Wraith slowed to walk next to Deacon, letting Hancock and MacCready move ahead. “Are we going to be able to stop in Baltimore? Or… whatever it’s called now. Or do we have to skip it like Philly?”

“There’s not a whole lot to see if we do stop; there’s some small trading stations that pop up in the summer but we might be early yet.” Deacon’s smile broadened as Hancock, noticing Dogmeat struggling in the mud, hefted the pup and carried him against his chest like a child, “We might have left too early in general… General. I haven’t seen spring rain like this in ten years.”

“Are we… talking about the weather like old people?”

“The weather will do more than… dampen our spirits. Time is a concern.”

“We wouldn’t want to get sick… being under the weather would slow us down.”

“If L&L sent a party after us… their rain of terror would…”

“Ugh, no! That’s stretching.” Wraith play-punched his arm.

“Oh? Couldn’t think of another one? I guess I won that round.”

Careful! Harley wouldn’t be this familiar. Tune it back…

Making note of the sudden shift in Deacon’s body language and tucking her chin, Wraith whispered her concern from the corner of her mouth, “L&L, huh? I thought you found the last two…”

“Later.”

 MacCready had found a small rise that was relatively dry and despite the fact that it was still a good two hours until sunset, the caravan stopped for the night. After making sure the brahmin were sound, everyone was being fed and watch shifts were selected, Wraith broke away to meet with Deacon.

“Hey, that’s my trick!”

Wraith doubted that she had actually been able to sneak up on him. “You’re being kind.” Folding her slender legs under her, she propped her back against a wretched-looking tree, “How much will you tell me?”

Seating himself on the opposite side of the trunk, Deacon’s voice was low, “My contact in Underworld is Tulip. Captain Sally and The Bruiser are still at large.”

“I thought Hancock’s network had found them.”

“Shit happens.”

Not for the first time, Wraith berated herself for leaving the Railroad, “I should have stayed. Should have finished…”

“Not everything that happened or will happen is your fault, Pippa. Fuck’s sake!” Genuinely annoyed, Deacon leaned around the oak to glare at her, “Dial down your ego for two seconds and you’ll realize the Earth doesn’t fucking revolve around you!”

“Holy shit! What the fuck was that for?!”

With Wraith’s angry frown inches from his own, Deacon had an impulse to kiss her. Letting the image carry him away for far longer than was healthy, he felt heat on his face.

Shit! FUCK! SHITFUCKDAMN!

“…are you?” Clearing her throat, Wraith sat back on her heels, “What was that? Please, tell me what…”

“No, Wraith.” In one fluid motion, Deacon rose to his feet, turned and melted away into the evening shadows.

 The insects were becoming a problem. The rains had finally let up but the further south the caravan progressed the warmer it got and the swarms of bugs were insufferable. Ranging in size from annoying to lethal there was a growing concern over the amount of ammunition being spent.

“Goddamn bugs!” Hancock seemed especially agitated and would routinely spend his daily allotment of shells, “Someone take my gun from me; I can’t help myself!”

“You could always just stab them…”

“Hey, that’s right!” Brandishing his beloved combat knife, the ghoul licked the blade with a mad light in his eyes.

“Or, or you could take some Day-tripper and we could strap you to a brahimn for the rest of the trip.”

Hancock made a show of being torn between ending all bug life at the end of his knife, or enjoying a nice high, “Gee, Harley how will I ever choose?”

Surprised that he would play along, Deacon’s confusion mounted when the lanky mayor draped an arm across his shoulders, “What’s got you so… friendly?”

“Wraith’s been lower than brahmin udders since she snuck away to chat at ya.” Hancock pulled the other man close to whisper in his ear, “And you’ve been even lower, brother. You kids feuding or what?”

Alarmed to know that his mood was affecting his body language, he straightened his back. Feeling uncomfortable under the ghoul’s arm, mostly because he enjoyed the contact, Deacon shrugged and was able to side-step away. He chuckled, “Damn, you are just as dangerous as she is.” Still feeling the weight of Hancock’s touch and angry that he had liked it, he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “I told her about the L&L setbacks; the false intel… more or less.”

“You tell her ‘bout the mole? About how I killed that fucker?”

“No Mr. Mayor, I didn’t. Because she’s not supposed to have to know about the Railroad and where I’m at or about whatever it is that I’m doing. I’m trying to give her one less fight and one less worry.”

“Well, you’re doing it wrong. Lyin’ has never worked with her.”

Annoyed, Deacon talked through his teeth, “Well, how exactly would you go about it?”

“Fuck if I know.” Folding his arms behind his head, Hancock walked away while whistling Keep a Knockin’.

 Hancock was whimpering. It wasn’t unusual for him to battle his demons in his sleep but it still made Wraith’s heart hurt. She pulled him closer to her and his eyes opened briefly. He smiled, thankful to be rescued and he laid his head against her chest.

“Fighting ninjas again?”

“Heh. Not this time, sunshine.” He yawned and nuzzled her breasts through her shirt, “MacCready and Dogmeat still on watch?”

“Yeah. I’ve gotta get up soon. We’ll do a swap-out so you won’t be alone for long.”

“Stay with me for a couple more minutes.” His voice carried a surprisingly high level of anxiety.

She kissed his head, “A bad one, huh? I can stay a little longer.”

“I’ve told you I love you, right?” His voice wavered, almost as if he had been crying.

“Yes, of course!” She squeezed him tightly, “And I love you. What was it?”

“Don’t wanna trouble you with it.”

“It’s no trouble. It was just a dream, right?”

“I… MacCready didn’t want to leave th’ Capital and you decided to stay with him. I… I lost you both.”

  “That you, Wraith?” MacCready was staring intently through his night scope, “You picking up anything on your fancy wristwatch?”

“No. Why?”

“I… my neck hairs are up… I don’t see anything but…”

“You feel.”

Lowering his scope, MacCready’s shoulders slumped, “That’s from that book again, isn’t it? You enormous nerd.”

Wraith gave Dogmeat a pat, “Puppy here seems to be relaxed.” She stuck her hand in MacCready’s back pocket to give his butt a squeeze, “Now, now. We have been through this; if you know what I’m talking about then you’re just as big a nerd.”

Returning the scope to his eye, he pretended not to notice her hand, “Darn it! I feel like I’m being stalked. Harley isn’t out there being a… messing around, right?”

“He’s out and about but he’s taking this all very seriously.” She checked her Pip-boy again, “I still don’t see anything. You sure it’s not just a case of the jitters? Tell you what; I’ll go do a quick sweep. The bad vibes are coming from the east, right? Hang tight.”

Moving silently through the scrub, Wraith calmed her mind for peak focus. Stopping every few yards, she strained her ears to listen for any minute change in the night sounds around her. Crisscrossing back and forth, she moved east until she reached a swamp and ran out of solid ground. Slowly standing in the moon-cast shadow of a large bolder, she held her breath and closed her eyes.

You never thought that maybe Mac would want to stay. You never thought that up until a couple of years ago his whole life had been in the Capital Wasteland and maybe he prefers it. What if Duncan refuses to leave and Mac doesn’t want to traumatize him by forcing him? What if Carol and Greta convince him not to take his son? What if he had been in love with Morningstar and when he sees her he’ll realize that you’re not as good? What if…

Dangerously close to hyperventilating, Wraith was able to snap herself back… just as the deathclaw hit her.

 “Light, GET SOME GODDAMN LIGHT OUT THERE!”

“How?! We don’t have a generator with us, Mayor Hancock!”

As soon as he heard the deathclaw’s roar, MacCready had raised the alarm and he and the dog sprinted off into the night. Now, Hancock was left to organize the pursuit and was terrified that his nightmare was coming true.

“Lanterns! Torches! Fucking sake! Let’s GO!” When Deacon made as if to follow, Hancock stabbed his finger at him, “Not you! Stay and protect the camp.”

His jaw clenched as he ground his teeth but he complied.

 Get up! Getupgetupgetup!

Able to gather her legs beneath her despite her lungs being devoid of air, Wraith ducked and dodged as the monster did its best to bifurcate her. She felt hot blood streaming down her face and she realized she had forgotten her armored hood back at camp.

I am such a shitshow!

The moon was full and so afforded her enough light to evade the monster’s swinging talons. Injured as she was, Wraith knew that she would tire quickly and needed to get on the offense. She expected that her companions would hear the beast’s bellow and attempt to come to her aid but she had traveled fairly far from camp. Even with the moon’s light it would take time to find her. Options seemed to be limited…

I need to slow it down. I don’t know how deep the swamp is but if I can get it stuck in the mud…

Weaving through a small copse of trees, she gained enough distance to grab a syringe of med-X and the bottle of Buffout from her pack. Bolstered by the chems, she unsheathed Kremvh’s Tooth and sprinted straight at the creature. Diving between its legs, she slashed its Achilles tendon as she passed and rolled to her feet behind it. Ducking under its tail as it spun around to pursue her, she sprinted for the water.

Leaping to a fallen tree, Wraith ran along its length and turned to mark the deathclaw’s progress. It seemed oblivious to the fact that its left foot hung by a strip of hide and she watched in horror as it gathered itself to jump to her log.

I’m drowning here! The only way this could be worse is if there were two…

A second deathclaw bellowed from her left.

Oh. Swell.

 Trying to keep up with Dogmeat, MacCready paid no mind to the branches whipping across his face. He was terribly worried that he hadn’t heard gun shots and he was attempting to convince himself that it was because she preferred melee weapons and not because she had been killed.

Has she lost her mind? Didn’t she learn anything from the last time?!

Man and dog rounded the bolder just in time to see the second deathclaw rear back and bellow its challenge. They then both watched in horror as the injured deathclaw leaped to Wraith’s log. She was catapulted through to air to land with an enormous splash, where she sank like a stone into the swamp’s dark waters.

Snarling as viciously as Dogmeat, MacCready quickly doubled back and climbed the bolder. Rifle in hand he sent shot after shot to the second deathclaw’s right knee as Dogmeat led it in circles around the rock’s base. The sniper cut through the beast’s leg like a lumberjack felling a tree and it collapsed heavily to its side. Dogmeat continued to worry it, preventing it from getting up and MacCready changed his target to the monster’s left knee. As soon as it was destroyed, the former merc whistled the canine away and tossed a grenade; finishing it off.

 Although her flight had been ungainly, Wraith had seen the deathclaw coming and so had been able to steel herself before being launched into the water. Unable to see through the silt, she swam to the bottom and headed back toward the shore, hoping to flank her foe.

The deathclaw had somehow tracked her progress and so dragged itself through the muddy water after her. Wraith surfaced right next to it and it lunged at her with its mouth open. Pulling her .44, she unloaded a full clip into its gaping maw. Her angle was bad however and so even though the wounds she inflicted would prove to be mortal, the monster wasn’t dead yet.

Frantically doing the backstroke, she was able to find footing enough to leap at the deathclaw with her blade leading the way. Landing heavily on its head she pushed the dagger through its upper jaw and pinned its mouth closed, roaring defiantly into its face.

The deathclaw plunged and shook; crow-hopping to try and dislodge her. With one hand on her weapon and the other on one of its horns, Wraith held on for dear life as the monster thrashed. Her substantial strength still augmented by the Buffout, it should have come to no great shock when the creatures horn came away in her hand. Losing her grip on her weapon’s blood-splattered hilt, she was once again flung into the water.

Moonlight reflected through the great spray of blood, clearly defining its crimson hue. The deathclaw stood with its head raised and arms spread wide, almost as if it was appealing to the moon for mercy. Then with a deep, mortal groan it fell dead.

MacCready stood motionless in complete shock. When Wraith surfaced, sputtering and cursing he realized he had been holding his breath, “Are… ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“GrrrrrrrAWWRRR!” Splashing and growling, Wraith kicked at the beast’s head before retrieving her dagger. Then, suddenly spent, she flopped onto her back in the mud, “Ugh. I think so.”

Dogmeat ran to her and setting his nose to her head wound, whiffled unhappily.

Wraith sheathed her weapon and reached up to run her fingers through the dog’s neck ruff, “I’m okay buddy. I… I think.”

“NO! YOU ARE NOT! YOU ARE BLEEDING!” MacCready had his med kit out in a flash.

“You have a flare gun, right? Do that first, okay?”

 The relief Hancock felt when he saw the flare was dashed when he saw MacCready hovering over Wraith as she lay on the ground. Unconsciously gripping his chest over his heart, he walked with slow, heavy steps to stand next to Dogmeat. “MacCready…”

Taken aback by Hancock’s stricken look, the young man waved his hands, “She’s alive! She’s a crazy monster but she’s alive.”

“Who’s a monster?!”

“Have you ever seen yourself fight?” MacCready bent to kiss her, his slight shiver evidence of his fear, “My knock-out, monster woman…”

Hancock kneeled in the mud and placed a hand on Wraith’s blood-caked forehead, “Did you pick a fight with two deathclaws all by yer lonesome?”

“No… I’m ashamed to admit they got the drop on me.”

“I distracted you. Got in yer head. Shouldn’t have told you ‘bout that dream.”

“It’s not your fault! Don’t… just don’t, please.” Wraith caught MacCready’s hand, “Don’t bother stitching me up; I have a couple of derma-fuses at the camp.” She sat up as the young man bound her head. “It’s a shame Bear isn’t with us; I’d have him skin these two… deathclaw armor would be super cool.”

“The one I got was an albino too. That’s pretty rare.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Hancock turned to one of the Minutemen escorts, “How ‘bout it Lloyd, you wanna help me set yer general up with some swanky new threads?”

“Do you have the right kind of knives for that?”

Placing his hand on his chest as if she had given him the greatest of insults, Hancock raised his voice to a falsetto, “Do I have the right kind of knives? ME?! You’re asking ME?!”

 It was the last night before the caravan reached the designated rendezvous at relay tower Kx-B8-11. MacCready and Wraith lay together in her bedroll and a nervous Wraith had not slept at all. Her mind was tormenting her with Hancock’s dream and she couldn’t shake the image of MacCready’s back moving further and further away from them.

“Wraith, you keep sighing…”

“Oops, sorry!”

Gathering her gently into his arms, MacCready kissed her temple, “What’s the matter?”

“What’s Morningstar like? Fahrenheit calls her a ‘beautiful giant’ but I don’t think it’s a complement.”

“No, probably not.” MacCready laughed, “It’s accurate though. She’s about as tall as Hancock but like two of him across. Maybe three…”

“Were the two of you friends?”

“No...” The pregnant pause suggested otherwise and it was his turn to sigh, “Maybe… It’s kinda complicated.”

“Tell me a story, Mac.”

“Sure, fine. It’s not like I’m gonna get any sleep anyway.”

“Yay.”

“Nyx is a nosy, goody two-shoes. She’s a busybody who can’t seem to leave sh… stuff alone.” He rolled away from her onto his back and stuck an arm behind his head. “She came to Little Lamplight so she could get into a vault. I helped her out and then I couldn’t get rid of her. She said that she owed us. I told her to… leave us alone.”

“You told her to fuck off?” She could see him smile in the dark.

“Verbatim.” His smile grew larger, “She didn’t listen, of course. She would bring supplies; food and clothes and stuff. When I turned sixteen and left she offered me a job but I was… stupid and told her ‘no thank you’.”

“Fuck off, part two?”

“Yeah. I thought I could make more money, faster with the Gunners. Looking back… I acted like such a idiot kid.”

“Mac, you were sixteen! That is a kid.”

“Not in the wasteland.” His smile gone, he looked sadly backward in time, “Then I found out that she had cleared Lamplight out and set up an orphanage in Megaton. I was so angry… but I don’t know why. Honestly, it was pretty amazing what she did for those kids. She gave them a chance to be... well… kids. That didn’t stop me though. I went and told her exactly what she should do with herself.”

“The return of fuck off, part three the sequel?”

“After Duncan was born, Lucy…” MacCready swallowed, hard, “Lucy said I needed to make peace with her. I… refused.” A rim of moisture gathered at the corner of his eye, “I was still being…” Unable to continue, a large tear traveled down his cheek.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to keep going.”

He sniffled and reached out to pull Wraith to his chest, “No, it’s okay. After I lost Lucy, I got… dark. I would drop Duncan off at Underworld and take missions that… I don’t think Charon would’ve done.”

“Charon is Morningstar’s… bodyguard? Actually I’m not sure what their relationship is.”

“Complicated. I think at one point she owned him. They might be a couple but I honestly don’t know.”

“Owned?! Like… not like a slave?!”

“Like I said, complicated.”

“Oh… no.”

“After Duncan got sick I promised him that if he could hold out until I got a cure, that I would be a better person. I finally went to Nyx. She never even hesitated, just came to help me as if we were best pals. I took it completely wrong, like she was using this as another opportunity to show how much better she is. Ugh, I was such a bastard!”

“Stop being so hard on yourself.”

“You don’t understand. If you knew all the things I’ve done…”

“Hancock says that too. You both know perfectly well all the horrible stuff I’ve done.”

MacCready shifted himself and sat up, taking Wraith by the shoulders and looking in her eyes, “You two are different. You guys did that stuff to help other people. You both made sacrifices and hard decisions so that they could be saved. I did terrible things because I hated everything. I was joking when I called you a monster. I’m the monster.”

Matching his stare, Wraith cupped his cheek with her hand, “I don’t know if you’d ever want to tell me everything but I want you to know that I would listen. I love you. I always will.” She kissed him and gently set her forehead against his.

They sat that way, quietly for a few seconds until MacCready pulled slightly back. He stared, smiling into her eyes. His look morphed from adoration to lasciviousness and he ran his hands from her shoulders down her back.  Setting his lips against hers in a needful kiss, he tucked a hand in the waistband of her jeans to squeeze her butt.

“Mmmm, Mac… We have to… stop…” As her lover’s hands and mouth traveled across her body, Wraith barely had the presence of mind to protest.

“Think so? I can be quiet. I can be good and quiet.”

“Huugh… It’s even… more fun… oh mmmm… when you’re loud…”

 “Beacon has been activated… Harley.” Wraith was genuinely regretful at not being able to make a rhyme.

“Acknowledged, general. The Morningstar escort should arrive in less than twenty-four hours. Was there anything else?”

“No. Thank you soldier, you are dismissed.”

Wraith frowned as she watched him walk away. She had made several attempts, during the last days of travel, to engage with Deacon. She understood the need for his alter ego but was disappointed that he was no longer allowing himself to be friendly.

I make jokes and laugh with all my people. Probably more than what’s appropriate but… This is so different than any other mission. He’s so different… even from when we left Diamond City.

 “General, Morningstar has been spotted. She should be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Lloyd.”

The sun had barely risen the following morning but Wraith had been up all night. Both Hancock and MacCready had tried to calm her but her anxiety had turned Nyx Morningstar into some sort of boyfriend-eating gorgon.

And then she was come.

At well over six feet, she was perhaps the tallest woman Wraith would ever see. Morningstar wore heavy combat gear with a custom, lion-like helmet that was heavily inspired by gladiatorial armor. Lifting an arm, she waved as her group crested the hill. When she removed her helm her impressive mane of blue-black hair poured forth like liquid night. Her large, gold eyes smiled in a truly friendly manner as they surveyed Wraith’s group.

“Hey there, butt face.”  

MacCready stood, flanked by Hancock on his left and Wraith on his right, “Hey mungo.” Swaggering up, he stuck out a hand. Nyx clasped it firmly, then to his shock, pulled him to her and swept him off his feet to spin around in a whirling bear hug, “AAAAAAHHHH! PUT ME DOWN, YOU BEHEMOTH!”

After a couple more revolutions, she set him back on his feet, “I’m sorry R.J. It’s just so good to see you!” She turned her sun-beam smile onto Hancock and offered him her hand. “John Hancock, you old raisin! How are you?!”

Shaking her hand firmly he smiled, “Still sweet and wrinkly! You’re impressive as always, Morningstar. Speaking of impressive, may I have the pleasure of introducing Wraith, General of the Minutemen?”

Wraith lifted her chin and secured her face into her best I-need-to-win-over-this-jury smile, “I’m honored to meet you, Morningstar.”

“The honor is mine. And please, call me Nyx.”

“Only if you will call me Wraith.” Wraith turned her attention to the silent, tall sentinel standing slightly behind Nyx, “And you must be Charon. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” The entire hill top seemed to freeze as Wraith extended her hand to the mountainous ghoul.

To everyone’s shock he took her hand and offered her the tiniest of quarter grins, “The pleasure is mine.” Charon then turned slightly to Nyx with a slightly larger, tiny grin and a wink.

When Nyx saw Dogmeat her eyes widened and she took a knee, “Hello old man.”

The German shepherd sat and placed his paws on her leg. The two stayed in silent communion for several seconds before woman and dog rose to their feet.

Turning back to Wraith, Nyx was all business, “We should move soon. It would only be natural for my group to assist yours breaking camp. Lots of moving bodies can be confusing to those who may be watching.”

It suddenly occurred to Wraith that six of Nyx’s group very closely resembled Deacon and his five synth refugees. Nodding, she joined the throng of people and brahmin. Then, completely imperceptible to an outside observer, the two groups swapped costumes, as if by magic.

As the large caravan headed south, Nyx and Wraith walked together. Wraith’s mind was a whirl of questions but afraid that she’d be a pest, wasn’t sure where to start.

“Danse isn’t with you.”

Wraith jumped slightly, startled by the broken silence “No. I did ask him if he would like to come but I think he feels this chapter of his life is closed. Did you know him?”

“I know everyone.” Nyx’s smile somehow softened the egotistical declaration, “Not well, but I did meet him before Maxson whisked him away. I have a letter for him from former scribe Haylen.”

“Ah. She did end up quitting then.” Wraith somehow felt even more awkward, “You might find this a strange question but, is she… okay?”

“Wraith, to be clear; I am connected to the BOS but I myself am not an active member. I have an understanding with the elder. To be blunt, they owe me. A lot. As such, they understand that certain towns, settlements and people, are under my protection. Places like Underworld. People like the ghouls living in and around the Capital Wasteland. People like my super mutant friend, Fawkes. People like Haylen.”

The large women had unconsciously picked up her pace and Wraith had to practically jog to keep up with her, “Did they threaten her?!”

“Not at all. That whole… debacle, was a huge embarrassment and setback for the Brotherhood. You remain public enemy number one but Haylen will be fine. I have her doing medical research for me and she seems to be happy.”

“Speaking of medical research, I have a gift for you.” Wraith, eager to change the subject, passed her a derma-fuse, “It’s Institute tech designed to close lacerations.”

Nyx’s eyes took on a greedy gleam as she accepted the device, “Fascinating! How does it work?”

“I don’t actually know how it works but what it does is localized cellular regeneration. Dermis only, hence the name. I actually brought you two; one to use…”

“And one to ruin, trying to figure out how to make more?” The two women shared a laugh.

“Well, glad to see you are getting along.” Returning to the group after scouting ahead, MacCready flashed them a roguish grin.

“What of it, R.J? Why wouldn’t we? I happen to be a super-fun person!”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, right. What were you two talking about?”

“About how you’re a huge dork.”

“Oh, I’m huge alright. In all the right places!”

“Does that explain your enormous head?”

“Big brain.”

“I think you mean big ego.”

Despite the harsh volley of words, MacCready seemed to be enjoying himself, “Well, you would be the expert on gigantism and egos.”

Wraith, feeling out of place, dropped back to her more normal walking pace. Suddenly finding herself side by side with Charon, her feeling of awkwardness intensified to new heights.

“So, I assume this is normal? For them, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Not to say it isn’t funny.”

“Sure.”

“Well. I um… guess I’ll go check on… brahmin stuff.”

 Wraith’s passage through the Capital Wasteland left her feeling nostalgic and sad. The ruins of The Mall were particularly emotional. Her nerves frayed by the journey and the imminent face-to-face with Duncan, she held Hancock’s arm as they walked.

“You’re gonna be fine, sunshine.” The ghoul kissed the back of her hand, “We’ll be back, all together in Sanctuary before you know it. One big, happy family; lots of weird aunts and uncles for the kids.”

MacCready sought them out just before passing through Underworld’s doors. “Whew! Here we go.”

The caravan members distributed themselves between The Chop Shop and Underworld Outfitters as MacCready, Hancock, Dogmeat and Wraith climbed the stairs to Carol’s.  Just beyond the door, flanked by his ghoulette aunts stood Duncan.

“Daddy!” Giggling, the small boy threw himself into his father’s open arms. “Daddy I’m a big boy! I poop in the potty and can come with you now! Auty Carol says so! Daddy… are you ‘kay? Daddy?”

MacCready had tried his best to hold back his tears, afraid that his crying might confuse or scare his son. Caught somewhere between sobbing and laughing he was making strange noises in his throat, almost as if he was being strangled.

“It’s ‘kay, daddy. Crying is ‘kay too.” Duncan had pulled back slightly and was now patting his father’s tear streaked cheek, “Daddy, does your tummy hurt?”

“He’s just very happy to see you, honey.” Tears ran down Carol’s face as well, “I’m Carol, you must be Wraith and Hancock. This is my wife Greta. Welcome to Underworld.” The ghoulette did a double-take, “Is that… that can’t possibly… Dogmeat?!”

“Look, Daddy! There’s a doggy! It’s a good puppy?”

“He’s… yeah buddy. He’s the best puppy.”

  Deacon sat at a barstool waiting for Tulip. After their tearful reunion, MacCready and company had settled down for the night and he had separated himself to wait for his contact to close her store.

“Do you have a Geiger counter?”

“Mine’s in the shop.”

“Harley, everything is all set. The packages will be distributed by Morningstar’s courier service starting tomorrow.”

“Well, all things considered that went remarkably smooth. Kinda waiting on the other shoe…”

“It’s funny you should say that. I need your help.” Tulip lowered her voice and set her hand suggestively on Deacon’s thy. “Follow me back to the shop.”

Maintaining character, Deacon slung his arm around the ghoulette’s shoulders and leaned into her as if too drunk to walk straight, “Ohboy, I thought you’d never ashk me!”

Morningstar’s imposing presence seemed to fill the store and she leaned toward Deacon with a predatory look that reminded him of a hunting lioness, “The L&L gang is here! They’ve killed Watts.”

“Victoria…” Deacon’s mind whirled, “Who’s running the show?”

“I want you to.”

It made perfect sense. He hated it. His mind reeled back from it, “Why can’t you…”

“Don’t do that. You know why!” Nyx folded her powerful arms, “I’m way too high profile. It wouldn’t have to be permanent. We need you to whip us in to shape like you did for the Commonwealth branch. Tulip has her hands full and,” She cast an apologetic glance to the ghoulette, “she has no leadership experience. It’s you. Take a protégé if you want. Train them… but it’s you.”

“You… you got me over a barrel.”

“I promised General Wraith that I would make sure Duncan MacCready makes it safely back to Sanctuary. I will not go back on my word. I will go… you will stay.” Her eyes softened at the pain in Deacon’s pale blue eyes, “I know you and Watts went way back. I’m sorry to throw this at you now but it just happened a couple of days ago.”

“Hancock’s network had been closing in. We knew they left but we had been misdirected north. Goddamn it…”

“You’ll do a lot of good for us here. I will make sure you’re provided all necessary resources.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” Squaring his shoulders, Deacon turned to leave, “No time like the present. I’ll be off to…”

“Headquarters are still at the late, great Manya Vargas’s. Let me know when you change location… cause I know you will.”

“You’re not going to say goodbye.” All three flinched as Wraith stepped out of the shadows.

Nyx turned and took a menacing step, hands raised and ready to attack, “Bad move, General…”

“Wait! Wraith is Railroad! Or… she was…” Deacon placed himself between them, “Whisper! Wraith was Whisper!”

Nyx calmed immediately. Looking back and forth between them, she seemed to have an epiphany, “Let’s go back to the bar for a bit, Tulip.”

“Fine. If you two fight, don’t go wreaking up my shop!”

The silence was heavy, like the pressure before a thunderstorm.

Don’t… Wraith, don’t…

“Am I a child to you? Do you honestly believe you can protect me from… why wouldn’t you have told me? Hell, lie to me about the reason but fucking tell me that you’re leaving!” Wraith still had her fists clenched.

“You’re giving me permission to lie?”

Don’t… I can’t…

“I...” She seemed to deflate before his eyes, “I guess you’ve always come and go as you please.”

“You told me to leave. You told me once…”

“That was a mistake! I fucked up. Had I known better what I was doing…”

“No! You were right! You did everything and more for the Railroad… for me. You were done. Turning your focus to the Minutemen was the best decision you could have made. Just look at everything you’ve accomplished!”

Wraith shook her head, “Look at all the lives I’ve ended…”

“STOP FUCKING DOING THAT!” Deacon’s eyes flashed fire and he took an unconscious step toward her, “STOP! Don’t belittle yourself. You are the single greatest thing that’s happened to the Commonwealth… and to me.”

“You… you have no intention of coming back. Do you?” Tears streamed down her face.

“You don’t need me, Wraith. You have to let me go.”

“You’re like my brother! We… you’re my family.”

“The time has come for us to part ways.”

She lifted her arms as if to embrace him but he backed away.

Don’t hug me Wraith. I’ll… I’ll shatter. I’ll break if you hold me.

“You… you’re my friend. I love you, Deacon.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“You don’t know me, Philippa. My name is not Deacon.” His face empty of emotion, the nameless man turned his back, opened the door and walked away.

Lie. Lie. Lie.

  Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please search my Wraith in the Ruins tag in my bio. There is a link-tree master post with all of the chapters. Questions/comments/concerns, my ask is open (anon too). I appreciate any feedback. =^..^=

[sae-you-sae-me]

Yay, you're open again! Can i request RFA boys, maybe saeran too, wanting some alone time with MC but everytime there's just something or someone that comes up. Finally at the end of the day, they get that moment and ya know, spicy/fluffy things happen:) Hope this makes sense!

Awww, so cute! Hope you like it! 

Zen:

He had a new show

The rehearsals had been gruesome and long, and you two barely saw each other except for a “Good morning” and “good night”

Finally, he finished the last show and was looking forward to seeing you

Unfortunately, he had to stay behind a bit so he sent you home while he finished business

Once that was done, his co-stars invited him out for some drinks and food

He declined, saying that he had someone waiting at home

Anway, he finally gets home and as soon as you open door, he picks you up and spins you around in a hug

When he sets you down, he leans forwards for a long-awaited kiss and just as your lips brush together…

DING DONG

You two weren’t sure who would be visiting that time of night, so you open hoping its not an emergency

It wasn’t

Apparently, his co-stars felt bad and decided to “bring the party to him”

Zen was disgruntled but had no choice as his co-stars really brought the party inside

He tried to have fun anyway

But it was hard when the most he could do was hold your hand or stare longingly across the room when you talked to someone else

As the hours ticked on, he was getting more and more antsy for a few precious moments with you

Finally, he managed to scurry the remaining drunk co-stars out

And when he shut the door and turned around…you were asleep on the couch

His heart sunk, but he supposed there was nothing he could do

Gently, he lifts you from the couch and carries you to bed

He hovers over you, just smiling at how lucky he is

He doesn’t expect you to grab his shirt and yank him down for a kiss

At first, he wants to scold you for fake sleeping

But he finally got his kiss…and he wants another few;)

Yoosung:

He’s been working overtime

Late nights and early mornings

And he missed you so, so much–it was an understatement really

Finally, the last day of his late night shifts ends

He wants to be really smooth and romantic that evening

When he walks in the house, he sees you in the kitchen

He still has his doctor coat and stethoscope on 

He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and getting close to your ear

“I think it’s for the doctor to check your…”

His words trail off as from the corner of his eye, he sees…his mother?

“YOUR BLOOD PRESSURE!”

You jump since he was still by your ear “WHY ARE YOU YELLING.”

His innocent mother just smiles at you, “Oh, is your health okay?”

You kind of laugh nervously and give a vague answer while glaring at Yoosung  

Yoosung is beet red even though he didn’t say anything or do anything

Why did his mother have to do an impromptu visit tonight of all nights?

After an hour of his mother talking over dinner, he’s getting really impatient to see you

He tries to be smooth about it

“Uhh, MC, can you help me fill up the water pitcher in the kitchen?”

He winks hoping you’ll get the hint

You do…and you’re about to get up

But then his mother interrupts, “Why can’t you get the pitcher yourself? Let her rest!”

The night goes on

The poutier Yoosung gets

Eventually, his mother does get tired and decides to go home

Not even a second after the door closes, Yoosung grabs you by the waist and yanks you into him for a deep kiss

All those lonely nights are forgotten now

Jumin:

He was on a business trip

But he ended up getting off two whole days early

He didn’t tell you, hoping to surprise you

On the elevator up to the penthouse, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and he just couldn’t wait to have you to himself all alone

You open the door, and you’re certainly surprised

You almost tackle him in a hug, and he’s half lifting you off the ground

He’s just about to give you a kiss when you gently push him away and glance sideways

He follows your gaze and sees the room full of your coworkers

Staring with weird grins

He clears his throat and lets you go, forcing a smile even though he’s screaming inside

Apparently, because you thought Jumin was still going to be away, you had scheduled a get-together for your work at the penthouse

Of course, Jumin didn’t mind, but you didn’t know that

You knew the difference between his professional smile and his real smile

He seemed really stiff and his smile seemed so forced

You thought you made things uncomfortable for him

Meanwhile, Jumin is trying not to professionally kick everybody out

It makes it worse when one lady comments,

“Oh you just got back from a business trip? You must have really missed MC all this time! I bet you just want to kick us all out!” 

“Ahahaha….” *casually sips wine*

He never denied it

Finally, the guests started shuffling out and you see the last of the guests out

You’re just about to apologize when he grabs you and throws you on the couch

He gives you one of his cute Jumin smirks

He starts crawling on top of you, and you think you know where this is going

But he just collapses and snuggles into the crook of your neck

He places light kisses on your cheek and jawline

“I’ve missed you,” he says quietly before finally leaning down to give that anticipated kiss on the lips

Seven:

Between work and Saeran, you two hadn’t seen each other in weeks

But finally things were settling down and he wanted to surprise

Luckily, he had the key to your apartment to do that

So he sneaks in and finds you sitting alone the couch reading

He basically tackles you and starts smothering you with tiny kisses

At least for a second before something grabs his ear and drags him to the ground

A child stares at down at him before yelling, “MC’S BEING ASSAULTED.”

It takes a moment to calm him down before your neighbors actually got involved

Apparently, you were babysitting that day…which meant no alone time until the kid was picked up by his mom

Still, Seven was determined

He tries the nice approach first, and gets the kid set up with some video games

While the kid is distracted, he drags you into the kitchen and pulls you close

Just as he’s about to get that kiss, the kid pops in, “Do you have some juice?”

He doesn’t think much of it except for the fact that it happens every single time he gets you alone 

“Don’t you need to take a nap or something?” he snaps

“I’m like…ten.”

It gets worse as the day goes on

The kid basically clings to you

He hugs you, and snuggles against you, and even sneaks some kisses on your cheek

All while sending a cheeky glance towards Seven

Mr. Steal Yo Girl

After hours of this, the mother comes to pick up the kid

Seven is so excited…he finally has you alone and to himself

He turns around…and you are wiped out and asleep on the couch

He deflates a little but he slides himself next to you and wraps his arms around you

As long as he can hold you, right?

He actually ends up falling asleep too

That kid was tiring

Saeran:

You were the one away on the trip

He was alone in the house for days

So he called Yoosung over to keep him company 

They were supposed to play some games, eat some junk food, have a bro night

Half way through,he hears the doorbell ring

He leaves Yoosung for a moment to go answer it

He gets quite the shock to see you home a whole day early

He doesn’t think it’s real until you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a quick kiss

He’s speechless, but he’s so happy

He pulls you in for another longer kiss

Yoosung unwittingly walks in, “Hey Saeran–AHHH I’M SORRY.”

Saeran’s girl is home

But….his homeboi is also home

He awkwardly pulls away from you and explains the situation

You wave him off and tell him it’s fine and just spend the night with Yoosung

Poor guy tries

But he keeps blanking out and looking towards you everytime you passed

Yoosung isn’t stupid…he notices

Being super nice, he makes up some assignment that he has to do and hurries out

The door shuts, and Saeran comes looking for you like a lost puppy

He finds you laying down on the couch

He immediately becomes soft™

Crawls next to you and gives you gently kisses all over your face

You smile up at him, “Did you miss me?”

“What do you think?” he replies, though you swear he turned a little red and held you just a little tighter

Also, he waits until you fall asleep to text Yoosung, “Reschedule?”

Check out our other headcanons~ Masterlist

[alluran]

autumn leaves

klancetober day two | direct follow-up w/ even more romantic gestures to one we were in screaming color

“Keith, buddy. I know we’ve had our rough patches and you’re probably still out for revenge from the last prank, but does it all really warrant you bringing a literal bag of garbage into my apartment when I’m already sick?”

Keith set the grocery bag on the coffee table in front of Lance’s overzealous cold cocoon on the couch. “Be prepared to eat those words.”

“Sorry, Hunk’s got me on a strict soup and saltines regimen, nothing too acidic.”

He rolled his eyes as Lance struggled to sit up in the pile of blankets he had tangled himself into since the first sign of a fever. He bit the inside of his cheek when Lance finally got halfway to sitting all of the way up. “What was that two weeks ago about taking the boy out of the sub-tropical climate?”

“Okay it’s not my fault that I enjoy seasonal changes, but my body does not. You’re really out to kick a man when he’s already down, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.” Keith called over his shoulder as he left Lance to find his legs in the mess of blankets, He pulled out his phone to read over a text from Shiro and started to pull Sprite and soup from the fridge. It took some effort to hunt down the tapped supply of saltines in the cabinet, but he got everything and made his way back to Lance.

Who was spilled over the edge of the couch, one leg still hopelessly tangled in the blankets and the other sticking straight out in the air.

“How have you not died without supervision yet?”

Lance sniffed. “I’ll have you know this doesn’t happen every time.” Lance tracked Keith’s movements, setting the crackers and drink down on the table to put soup in the microwave. “But please, take your time. My immune system and upper body strength is just compromised and all of the blood is rushing painfully to my head.”

Keith crossed him arms and raised his eyebrow down at Lance. “I don’t know, I think your brain could use a little extra blood flow for a change.”

Lance groaned and slid more onto the floor before Keith finally took mercy on him and came to help him. Lance knew he ran warm, even warmer with the cold from hell wreaking havoc on his skin despite the care he took in it, but the first brush of Keith’s hand on his arm was incredible. He was a very tactile person. Keith had nice, strong hands. So sue him if he couldn’t think of anything better than the relief of cool, calloused fingers wrapped around his arm before they warmed up as Lance was righted. Having a cold felt isolating, not that he expected Hunk to still be down for cuddles and hugs when he was gross and contagious, but he was weak for something more than a measured shoulder pat or brief circle of fingers between his shoulder blades.

Which were good things, he wasn’t complaining.

He just happened to buzz with the want of someone beside him despite the coughing and the worrying amount of empty tissue boxes surrounding him.

Lance settled back into the couch and sighed when Keith’s hand didn’t immediately pull away but brushed down his arm.

Man, he was tired again already.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

Lance peeked one eye open at Keith. “Rest is literally what I need right now, Keef.”

“I promised Hunk I would make sure you ate something before you went back into another coma nap.”

“Hm, and what does this have to do with the gift of trash?”

The microwave beeped, cutting off Keith’s retort. Lance’s eyes snapped to the grocery bag on his coffee table with dirt or something in it. Keith probably brought him the plague without even realizing it. Well, it was nice while it lasted. If he died at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the god awful stuffy nose that made just existing suck. The second he didn’t have it, he was going to devote a whole four hours to appreciating cleared up sinuses.

Why had he been so ungrateful before this?

Breathing unhindered was great. He could sit or lay down in any position without his body suffocating itself. He wasn’t just restricted to the one position that allowed him to breathe but may have permanently molded his back into a lowercase r.

“Solid point, I’ll remember to be more grateful I don’t have all of that.” Keith gestured to Lance as he set Hunk’s soup in front of him. “But being dramatic about it is just going to make you more miserable, so..”

Oh, he’d said that out loud.

Freaking Benadryl.

Lance shook his head and reached for the bowl when he noticed Keith go down his hallway. “Uh, where ya going, bud?”

“You’re out of tissues.”

“Oh, we might have another box in the hallway closet? Whiiiiich you just passed?”

Keith ducked out of his line of sight, definitely sneaking into his bedroom. “Yep.”

“Hey now! Just because a man’s down, doesn’t mean you get to tear through his room. Get your mullet back here, you jerk.” Keith didn’t answer him. Lance knew he could definitely hear him. His body lurched with the thought of standing. So taking Keith down was out of the question. “I will come to your house and move all of your furniture a fraction of an inch so you stub every one of your toes if you do not get back out here now, Kogane.”

The sound of the hallway closet opening and shutting muffled Keith’s words. “I don’t think it has the impact you’re hoping for if you tell me about it beforehand.”

Keith appeared back in the living room, tossing an unopened box of tissues on the couch beside Lance and set the camera he gave him beside the mysterious bag of trash.

Panic rose in Lance’s chest because he knew for a fact that he had a gnarly pillow crease on the left side of his face that went from his ear, up his cheekbone, and over his eyebrow. He was in a t-shirt that had been washed and worn so many times that the collar never went back to normal, it hung low against his collarbone making it look more like it had been worn and not washed. His pores screamed at him because he had to cut his skin routine short for the sake of rest and not standing longer than ten minutes at a time. Add to that the two empty tissue boxes, overflowing waste basket of used tissues and saltine packages. It was a waking nightmare.

“W-what. Whatchya doing with my camera?” His voice climbed several octaves as Keith turned it on and adjusted the settings.

Once he was done, he set it in front of Lance and relief washed over him. At least if Keith decided that whatever he had planned paled in comparison for a revenge opportunity, then Lance had some chance to lean forward fast enough to fight Keith for it.

“You’ll see. Also, eat before the soup gets cold.” Keith sat down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, not pausing in his work as he untied the grocery bag and began to pull things out.

Cold medicine was seriously messing with Lance because he was in no way prepared for Keith to start pulling leaves out of the bag and lining them up on the coffee table like it made the best sense in the world. Like this was something people did. Ate soup and saltines while staring at leaves in various stages of decay. Total normal, wholesome American past time. 100%.

Lance lifted the spoon to his mouth and swallowed, the warmth uncurling some of the tension in his chest. “You’re gonna have to give me a hint here. I’m lost. And vaguely still concerned you’re going to throw trash at me.”

Keith sighed, looking back up at Lance through his eyelashes like Lance had asked the world’s dumbest question. “You’re too sick to go to the park and I didn’t know how long it would take you to get better.”

He said it so earnestly, Lance didn’t have the heart to question him further. He sat back and ate in silence, watching Keith focus back on his work as he carefully pulled more leaves out of the sack and lined them up on the table, occasionally switching one leaf with another in the line. A deep burgundy leaf, almost the size and width of Keith’s palm was at Keith’s right, followed by a vibrant red. The leaf looked like a Valentine with its shape resembling a heart. Keith rifled through the bag and considered a yellow and a green one, setting them both aside to rummage for an orange one.

Lance swallowed thickly as he tried to make no sudden movement or noise as he set the half eaten bowl of soup back on the coffee table and reached for the camera.

No way.

No. Way.

There was no way Keith couldn’t hear how fast and loud Lance was breathing through his mouth, but he kept working. Lance raised the camera to his eye, finding the top of Keith’s dark head in the viewfinder, his small ponytail curled toward his neck. He lowered the shot to catch the line of leaves, laid out in the start of an impressive gradient. Lance made sure none of his food or the tissue boxes interrupted the frame as he focused and hoped Keith wouldn’t get suspicious and look up too soon.

Lance bit his lip and clicked the shutter button, the noise and flash catching Keith’s attention a beat later.

“Lance.”

“Told you I’d get your picture.” He smiled, the brief irritation on Keith’s face falling away as he looked at Lance with a small tilt to his mouth.

There was a brief tickle at the back of his head, he thought he had seen the look before. He didn’t know what to make of it yet.

Hunk was tired when he got home, his brain complete goo after his shift at work. It took him a solid three tries to get the door unlocked and then, two more times to get the key out of the lock once it was opened. It really shouldn’t have almost brought him to tears, but there he was. Emotionally drained and ready to fight the front door.

It was a miracle Lance had slept through his very loud tussle, he was a light sleeper for the most part and since he struggled breathing it was a fight for Lance’s body to relax enough to allow him the kind of fitful rest he needed. A spark of panic rushed through him. Hunk softly shut the door and walked closer to the couch, studying the mountain of blankets currently hiding his best friend and waited.

Lance shuddered in his sleep and coughed.

“Okay, good. Good. Very good. You’re not dead.” Hunk scrubbed a hand over his face and kicked off his shoes. “Obviously you can’t breathe better yet, but not dead. That’s all I’m asking for here. Wha-” He turned to the table, ready to tackle the damage Lance did on the tissue boxes and a filmy soup bowl.

His brain came to a painful halt.

The information his eyeballs took in did not compute. He was tired and stressed, but he didn’t think it was bad enough be into full on, very vivid and convincing hallucination of a clean coffee table. Even Lance’s waste basket was empty and had a fresh bag in it. Hunk gingerly walked backwards toward the kitchen.

A reverse robber? Some perverse serial murder that was hiding in the hall closet that went out of their way to make everything look pleasant before the real nightmare? The ghost he definitely heard crinkle a candy wrapper behind him the other day when no one else was home???

He really couldn’t handle a poltergeist.

Sure they started out not as threatening and okayish but they never stayed that way. It was October, they had to be at Maximum Strength or something. They cleaned Lance’s soup bowl, even let it properly dry in the dish rack, and twisted the open saltine pack shut with one of their chip clips. Major props.

Hunk went back out to the living room, Lance still passed out and unaware of the panic settling in. They needed to thank the ghost and then get out. No waiting. No going to sleep with the TV on. No s-

Okay, definitely an evil poltergeist because there was literally a bag of trash sitting on the floor at the end of the couch Lance was laying on. It was probably leaking death spores into the air.

He carefully brushed his toe against the bag - maybe the spiders and scorpions were just hidden and waiting for him to get close before they would crawl out.

Nothing happened.

Hunk leaned over the bag and saw a scrap of white that sat on the top of the- were those leaves? He plucked the object off of the top and stared at it.

It was a solid minute later and he was still staring.

The picture answered some things, mostly there were only more questions. He understood it in parts - the top of Keith’s head angled over the coffee table, leaves laid out in a gradient, the flash that washed out his skin in comparison to his black t-shirt, his relaxed posture. Put together? Zero sense.

Hunk glanced over the picture at Lance. “What have you guys been up to?”

a/n: bless hunk, honestly.

and the candy wrapper thing happened to me today while I was at my mom’s doing laundry. this one got away from me a little a bit, but I had fun with it. I wanted to combine days one and two in a chapter so the story is now up on ao3! read it here.

[veronica-rose-writer]

Team Anthony

Song Inspiration: Touch by Haux

Prompt: 

“You look beautiful today.” “Did I look ugly yesterday?”

“You look beautiful today, Isa.” I pause in the middle of pouring my much needed 5th cup of coffee to look at my incredibly annoying boss. He always felt complimenting his employees was a way to ‘boost morale’, never had the desired effect though, on me. Some of us groaned internally, but we stayed polite, while the rest all swooned over him.

I thought to myself, did I look ugly yesterday? However I gave a half smile and forced out, “Thank you Mike.”

A huge smile grew and feeling so proud that he might’ve just lifted my spirits he walks off whistling, raising his cup to someone on the floor. I rolled my eyes and finished making my coffee.

“You know that much caffeine in the span of 2 hours can’t be all that good for you, right?” I still at the sound of that amazingly sexy voice, Anthony. The kind that sounds like it’s on the verge of turning into a low growl. I love that voice, but he’ll never know that. “Considering my entire DNA is made up of caffeine, I think I’ll be just fine”, I respond casually turning to face that incredibly handsome face covered in a beard that screamed, PUSSY EATING EXPERT! But who knows really? He could be totally bad at it. Yet somehow I doubt it. He grins at me and it took everything I had in me to not groan out loud. It was completely unfair for any one human to look that gorgeous. His olive skin smooth and itchy hands wanting to touch it. His chiseled features adorned with a perfectly groomed full beard, dark thick eyebrows framing stunning green-brown eyes. I had to rein myself in because eventually I was going to forgo the coffee for his perfectly full lips. “How are you this morning, Isa?” “I’m doing better, thanks.” I pull my cup to my lips and took a long swallow in hopes to quell the moan that wants to escape my mouth. “Good to see you back in the office”, he inched closer to me and I froze. He leans closer raising his hand and reaches behind for the pot of coffee. When I realize how my eyes were glued to his lips I jump and move out of his way. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was acting like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

“Yeah, uh… thanks, Anthony. It feels good to be back”, I turn to leave the coffee bar hoping to make it back to my office without tripping. “Isa!” he calls out to me a bit loud to ensure I heard him.

I stop and only turn my head to look back at him, “yes?” “If you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask… me.” Shrugging at me he brought his cup to his lips and a smile crinkled his eyes. “Uh, yeah, sure… thanks.” Silently I ended with, I think. What the hell was that about? I hurry to my office, my special space. Being the introvert I am I enjoy the privacy of my little corner office. I close the door and leane against it. I took a couple of big gulps of my coffee and sighed. Anthony was one of the office hotties. The women, and some of the men, had a list of hot guys and he was on it. Top of the list was our boss. Ugh, that guy was such a douchebag but seemed like he was highly regarded for his sex appeal. If you liked that pretty white yuppie playboy look, yuck. I never paid much attention to the chatter of office gossip. I kept myself closed off from the rest of the folks because in order to focus on my work I needed silence. But every now and again when my door was open the few friends I did have would come visit and reveal the latest gossip to me, without my asking I should add. I always stayed quiet and nodded through their machine gun delivery of information I didn’t care about until his name was mentioned. Anthony gossip seemed to pretty much stay mild compared to some of the others. I think the most shocking was knowing the guy could sing and sing well. They had attended some office party and there was karaoke and he apparently stole the show. I was curious, but no one would ever know. So, today started with my cat knocking over every trash can in the apartment, finding that I had a flat tire, my boss telling me I looked beautiful (which was really annoying), to Anthony offering to help me with anything. I am not really sure where I was going with that line of thought. Maybe because my day seemed to start off bad, but this new development of Anthony offering to be helpful threw me off my bad day game. Suddenly it hit me… oh, that’s so unfortunate. I have a crush on the guy. I lean my head back against my door and this time I do groan out loud. I push away from the door, plop down into my chair, and lean my head on my desk. After being absent from the office, having to work from home for the last few weeks, this was the last thing I wanted to get myself caught up in coming back to work. “Fuck.” I say to myself and then reach for my phone needing to text my best friend, because she always has the answers. Me: Hey, are you free for drinks after work? Friend: Always! Me: I really need to talk. Meet me at the pub at 6? Friend: are you okay? Me: Yeah, no…  idk. Friend: ok, at 6. See you there.

I walk in the doors of the pub that is about 3 blocks from my office. It is already filled with happy hour patrons in broken down business suits. Men's shirt sleeves rolled up, ties gone, shirts unbuttoned, suit jackets on the back of chairs. Women's attire pretty similar or at least their clothing looked a little less smoothed out now that they had a few drinks in them.

The music playing is chill indie tunes. The pub is owned by former business types who decided they wanted more out of life. I envy them, the hipster couple living their dream. I love coming here, even if it at one time I wouldn't have been caught dead here. "Hey Isa!" shouts the owner Liz. She is a stunning beauty. She had a serious Chingona vibe that let her reign supreme here at the pub. Liz has long jet black hair that was typically worn in a fishtail braid. Big gold hoop earrings, a black pub merch tank top in order to exhibit her stunning tattoos all done by local artists, she is proud to say. "Hi Liz, it's good to see you", I step on the foot rest of the bar and reach over the bartop to kiss her cheek. "I'm so glad to see you out and about. You look fantastic." She enthusiastically waves a hand at me to indicate me being up on my feet. "Yeah, I am trying to get back to normal again. I hated feeling so helpless." I shrugged my shoulders as lean against the bar. The last 6 weeks were a hard recovery for me, but thankfully for a handful of friends I was able to get there faster. "Sometimes, Isa, it's okay to let others help you out. As you can see it actually works out because look at you now. No one would ever know you had heart surgery." Liz leans on the bar in front of me. She has the kindest light brown eyes, always framed by intense black eyeliner for that intense cat-eye look.   "Yeah, I know, I'm stubborn", I chuckle. "So what'll you have gorgeous?"

"Uhm, let me go easy tonight with a Jack and Coke, please."

Liz laughs, "you're one of few who call Whiskey easy. Coming right up!" I head over to my favorite spot at the end of the bar. I prefer my back to be to the wall so I can see the door. I'm not sure why, call it anxiety or being in control, but either way it's what works for me. I settle onto the barstool and look at my phone. It was ten till 6p and I knew soon Lillie would be making her entrance. She is always on time. "Here ya go, doll." Liz hands me my drink and right as she was about to say something someone came into the bar. She winks at me and moves to go serve her customer. Just as I brought my drink to my lips in walks a vision in bright purple. I grin because as soon as she steps in all eyes were on her. Lillie. She is always one to make an entrance. Her 6 foot tall frame always drew attention. Her chocolate skin was glowing, her short curls bouncing with every step. Her curvaceous body gliding its way through the crowd. The men looking at how her tight dress showed off everything she worked hard on achieving. All eyes on her is always Lillie’s goal. No matter how many stood taller as she walked past them, she had eyes only for me. My one true soulmate. We'd been friends since we were kids. Back when Lillie was once a little boy who kept himself hidden from everyone but me. Lillie was my first everything. First friend. First kiss. First boyfriend. First time. Then she became my very first girlfriend. I loved her more than I ever loved anyone. Then one day we both came to the realization that we were best friends and a love that felt like it was dying, became a big new love for friendship. She is my everything, always and forever, just now we are the very best of friends. "Hey beautiful" I grinned as Lillie leaned in to kiss my cheek. "Oh please… do go on!", she giggles loving being given compliments. "You're looking positively bright today." I look her up and down. "Oh this old thing? Girl please, I threw this on last minute." Lillie smiles at Liz as she walks up to us. "Hi Lillie, fancy seeing you here", Liz smiles at her. They always host karaoke on Wednesday nights, last night, and everyone always knew you'd see Lillie there. She had an amazing voice and everyone loved when she sang. They began to speak with each other and my mind drifted off. I don't know why I kept thinking about Anthony. I guess because it was still so new but it meant absolutely nothing right? Like, why would he even say that when he's never really shown me any interest? I can't seem to shake the smile he gave, or the intent in his words. Shaking my head I shrug it off as him just being nice. Noticing my mood, Lillie leans and elbows me to get my attention, "babe, you're a million miles away. What's going on?" I sigh and look over at her, just when I'm about to let it all pour out, in walks the devil. I didn't turn my head but my eyes shifted towards the door, there he was. He had his tie loose, his sleeves rolled up, minus a jacket, and he looks like something out of a freaking men’s fashion magazine. I close my eyes a second and take a deep breath. Lillie notices my gaze and then whispers, "who is that daddy?" "The problem." I grimace at her use of daddy. I say with a rushed exhale, "I think I could, might, possibly, definitely have a crush on that". "Uhm… Isa I don't quite think THAT is a problem, more like a solution?" Lillie has a huge grin on her face. I groan and bring my glass to my lips when he locks eyes with me. Fuck. He smiles at me. I smile back and turn to look at Lillie. I'm feeling a little claustrophobic suddenly and Lillie settles her hand on my arm.

“Breathe.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because he's coming.”

I slowly look over and he is walking through the crowd and they just move out of his way, like the parting of the Red Sea. Wtf, people just did that?

“Do what?” he asks as he's smiling at us.

Fuck, I said that out loud? Lillie knowing me reaches a hand out to distract him, "hi, I'm Lillie, the bff.. and you are?”

“I'm Anthony, the coworker.” He winks at Lillie.

Lillie grins and looks at me with a look. The look. I send out pleading eyes but nope she ain't having it.

“If you'll excuse me, I saw someone I need to say hi to.”

And just like that she leaves us. I turn and watch her leave and nervously look back and I'm staring at his chest. I look up and he’s smiling at me. Taking a deep breath I smile my smile, the one that makes people tell me “a real smile, Isa”. "Hi Anthony." I finally say feeling entirely ridiculous. He keeps looking at me and I start to feel even more anxious. Why is looking at me so intensely? "I'm trying to remember if I've seen you here before." He says as if he heard my thoughts. "Oh no, not for a long time. Before my surgery I stopped being able to go out. It's been a little over a year since I've been able to enjoy happy hour. But I've known Liz and her husband for a while before that, and use to come when they first opened up." I shift in my seat, my ass is starting to fall asleep or I'm just fidgety, either way I can’t sit still. "That's why, you stopped coming before I found this place." He leans sideways on the bar still smiling at me. Liz comes over, "Hey Anthony, your usual?"

He grins, "Hi Liz, yeah and whatever she's having" he points to my almost empty glass. "Uhm, thanks." I blush.

"Not a problem." At that moment someone bumps him pushing him into me. He reaches out on my legs to keep me from sliding off the stool. I grab his arm and realize how close we are and suddenly I feel my pulse rise rapidly. He smells so good! "Sorry about that," but his eyes send a different message, or is he, as he's still holding on.

"It's okay, it didn't hurt." Why did I say that? You're an idiot, Isa.

His fingers gripped a bit tightly before he releases his grip. My thighs feeling a lingering burn where his fingers had been. He leans in a little closer and begins "I was uhm… wondering if maybe", and before he could finish, a hand with long red polished nails snuck it's over his shoulder and across his chest. He froze and straightened himself. I looked at him like he suddenly grew an extra arm, a female one. Then a petite blonde with glossy red lips comes into view. Okay then… He turned and looked as if he was annoyed, "What Vicky?" She’s looking between him and me, I just turned to look over the bar. I see Lillie talking to some guy. Great no help from her. I realize that during our intense staring game, Liz had brought our drinks. I pick up my glass and begin to drink, a little too quickly. "I saw you and wanted to say hi. Can't a girl say hi?" She tosses her back over her exposed shoulder and I roll my eyes. "I didn't realize you were with a date?" She looked me over as if it was impossible for him to be with me. I freeze and then say from over my glass looking at her, "I'm not his date." Anthony stiffens and he backs away from this woman, getting closer to me. "Isa is a friend of mine." As if he needed her to know that he didn't just randomly decide to talk to me. "Well, whenever you're done here," she flicks her hand at me, "I’ll be over there with everyone." She tilted her head in a flirtatious way and spun around clacking her heels on the floor, even with the noise she manages it.   I laugh and shook my head, "damn dude, looks like you're in a world of trouble with that one". I turn my crossed legs towards him and he actually looks uncomfortable. I felt bad for the guy and so I leaned forward to whisper, "Don't worry, she didn't hurt my feelings." His shoulders relax and smiles at me, leaning back against the bar with his head turned towards me. "She's always a problem." "Women like her usually are, but some people like problems." I tap my nail against the glass rim and then take a sip. "What about you? Do you like problems?" I shake my head, and grin, "I like them easy". I said it so softly but just loud enough he didn't miss what I said. He turns fully towards, standing between my crossed legs and the bar, "is that so?" "Mmhmm… I don't like complicated. Like her," I nod towards the blonde. "People like her are messy. Leave behind destruction." "So can easy", he leans closer. I take a deep breath. What is going on? Who am I, like I have any right to be flirting with this guy? I'm not a stranger to flirting and hooking up. It's just been so long since I've entertained it. But with him it's happening so easily. Why fight it? Let it vibe and see what happens, that's what Lillie would say to me. "Not if you do it right", I let my leg brush against his crotch. He looks down at my leg. I wore a pantsuit today, the friction of our clothing did a lot to increase the current tension. He places his hand on my knee, rubbing his thumb over it in circles. "Isa, I have to admit that I'm incredibly attracted to you. Have been ever since we started working together. And normally this is easy for me, but right now I find I'm nervous being next to you." He confesses. I stopped breathing. I'm not even sure what just happened. Am I dreaming? Is this a joke? But I feel the warmth of his hand on my leg and it is surreal, how did this happen?! I’m reeling.

I lick my lips and bite my bottom lip. He watches the action, his eyes grow heavy with lust. Forgetting that we are in a public place I reach up and let my fingers drag through his beard. I needed to touch it and it felt like I knew it would. I moan slightly and squeeze my legs tighter. He slides his hand up my leg and grips my thigh. Suddenly the moment is shattered when Lillie walks up to announce she's leaving, "my friend and I want to catch up, so we are going go to eat." She winks and before I know it she's gone and I'm alone with Anthony. Anthony turns to Liz and raises his hand. He indicates that he wants to pay. She nods and he looks at me. No longer are we talking, just our bodies. I'm not sure what I'm doing, or him, but I'm going with it. One thing I learned recently is to take a chance at life because you never know when it'll end. I slid off the stool, straightening my jacket I wave at Liz as Anthony signs his receipt. Putting his hand on my lower back, we head towards the door. We both hear Vicky calling out his name. We move faster to the door. Walking briskly I turn and head towards my car and he follows my lead. After a couple of blocks walked in silence we are at my car. I took my keys out of my pocket and look at my door. He is standing close behind me. I breathe in deeply and suddenly I feel my body spin around. He pushes me back against my car, gently. He leans in, his lips hovering over mine. I realize he's waiting for an invitation. I let out the breath I was holding and reach my hands up to hold his face in my hands. Ugh, that beard drives me mad. I pull him in and suddenly I am feeling those soft lips against my own. He places his hands against my car caging me, moving in closer. His body needing to feel mine as his lips explore. I feel needy for his kiss, I pull him closer like I'm trying to bring him into me. Our lips getting to know each other, our breathing rising, our hearts beating faster. He lowers his hands to my hips and pulls me in, feeling how hard he's gotten already, for me. I moan into his mouth, his tongue making his way against mine. We tilt our heads, deepening our kiss. I feel absolutely carefree doing this, with him. I am not sure how long we've been kissing but it feels like hours. His beard scraping against my face causing my arousal to increase. It feels glorious and so incredibly sexy.

Slowly our kiss lightens, our need to breathe the main factor. He moves his lips to my jaw, down my neck. Taking his chin rubbing it against the sensitive part of my neck. I moan and push my hips up against him. "Oh god, Isa you have no idea how much I've dreamt of kissing you" he says into my neck. Moving his head up to look at me trying to control his heavy breathing. "I never knew" I whispered against his ear.

"I didn't know about you feeling the same." He lets out in a raspy breathless voice.

"I only recently allowed myself to admit it, but then being gone for 6 weeks kind of put a damper on things.” I bite his earlobe gently. He pushed himself back a bit, looking me in the eyes. Searching for something, I'm sure he sees the lust in my eyes, because I know I'm feeling it. He smiles and kisses my lips, letting them linger. He pulls away and I whimper. Wait, what, did I just whimper? He grins at me. "I don't want a one night stand with you. I want more." He says carefully, as if he's trying not to scare me off. I am at a loss for words. All I've known in the past is one night stands, a couple turning into toxic relationships. Never has a man actually said he wants more with me that didn’t imply sex. "I don't… I don’t know what to say…" I stammer.

"Just say yes to dinner with me, tomorrow night?"

"Yes" I answer instantly. Suddenly all the nervousness I felt since this day started gone. Feeling like my old confident self again. Feeling like me again. Not some broken shell of a woman.

"Excellent. I can pick you up at home, or leave from work?"

I bite my lip. "Could you get me at home?" I blush and look down.

He lifts my chin up with his finger, "it would be my pleasure."

I sigh like a schoolgirl and blush even more. What is with me?!

"I like when you bite your lip." He leans and kisses my bottom lip. "I noticed it the first day we met. When you're thinking you do it. It always drives me insane when we are in meetings."

I let out a soft laugh, "really?"

"God yes, how did you never notice me staring at you. I swear there were times you saw me."

"Uhm a little known secret about me, Anthony, I'm oblivious to flirtatious behavior if not directly shown to me. Kinda like you did tonight."

"Well then I'm glad I finally decided to bite the bullet." He laughed out loud. "When I saw you sitting at the bar I didn't even think twice, I made the choice to just walk right over to you."

"I'm glad you did, otherwise I'd be sitting in my office wondering why suddenly things shifted between us and convincing myself that I'm imagining things." I slide my hand up and down his chest. Wow, muscle, lots of it.

"Bite that lip again and I can't promise I'll stay a gentleman right now." His thumb rubs across my lip.

"No need on my account" I grin.

"No, you deserve better than a quickie in the back of a car." He pushes my wavy brown hair behind my ear. He makes me feel sexy, when I stopped believing I was anything more than just passably pretty.

"I guess I should head home. Bossy will be wondering where I am."

He raises an eyebrow at me, "my cat" I answer.

He grins, "oh yeah, you don't wanna worry him." 

He picks up the keys I dropped staying crouched down in front of me. Anthony is looking up at me, as I look down I am curious if he can tell how incredibly turned on I am, and how it'll take an hour just to let that fade away. He grins as he stands up as if knows my thoughts, he hands me my keys and I press the unlock button. He opens my door for me and I slide in. He leans in and kisses me, hard on my still swollen lips. "Drive safely, Isabella". He closes the door and I melt where I sit at the use of my full name. Oh god this man is going to make mush out of me. 

A/N: I originally wrote this about a year and half ago. It was a prompt I came across and I rolled with it. I wasn’t quite sure where it would end up, but here we are. I am not sure if I will come back to this or not but it was fun to write. Let me know what you think.