#you know ever since we adopted tangie

[headgehug]

varying degrees of cat doneness

[imagineclaireandjamie]

What’s done is done.

It Does My Heart Good: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2

–

Jamie Fraser had enjoyed many things in his life.

The fire and burn of a good whisky.

Beautiful sunsets over the fields at Lallybroch.

The tangy crunch of his first fish and chips after leaving prison.

The thump of Claire Beauchamp’s heart against his.

But the first time he held his daughter - Brianna Ellen Grey - in his arms, he realized all these things were mere shadows.

How tightly he held her, there in the arrivals area at the Boston airport. Stroking her hair - so much like his. Enjoying the simple feeling of having her close to him - his bairn, his babe. And savoring her own tight hug, and how she rubbed his shoulders, trying to soothe his sobs.

“This is the greatest day of my life,” he sniffed, when he could finally pull away and just look at her.

She grinned - Christ, it was a mirror of his own! “I know. Isn’t this crazy!”

“It is.” He wiped his runny nose on the sleeve of his coat. “Are your parents here?”

“Yeah - they’re waiting just over here. I wanted it to be just you and me, first.”

He clapped her shoulder. “Wise lass. I - I hope they dinna think I’m here to take their place. I would never - ”

“No. Never.” She took his hand, squeezing it. “They’ll always be Mom and Dad to me. I’ve always known I’m adopted - they never kept it from me. They explained it as, my birth parents loved me so much but they weren’t able to take care of me. So Mom and Dad were able to choose me as their child, and take care of me, until I was old enough to take care of myself.” She paused. “You have a special place in my heart. Now that I’ve found you, I’ll never let you go.”

“Aye.” He nodded. “Well then - can ye take me to meet them? I have a lot to thank them for.”

–

“No, no, no! That can’t be true!” 

Brianna laughed, and Jamie sputtered around a mouthful of mashed potatos.

“Tis true. The schoolmaster decided he had to give me a whack wi’ the paddle, right there in front of the whole class!”

“Well if it’s any consolation, Bree could be quite the handful when she was a little girl.” Isobel Grey - kind, gentle, every inch of the perfect mother that Jamie could have had for his daughter - shook her head. “Her school didn’t have paddles, but she was a frequent flyer at detention.”

“I remember having to pick you up after school,” John Grey added, his dark eyes creasing with laughter. “You were so mad! I couldn’t reason with you. And you’d just give me the silent treatment in the car on the way home.”

“My mother called it the Fraser temper.” Jamie swirled his tumbler of whisky, which the Greys had thoughtfully set out with dinner. “She said that there’s no use reasoning wi’ a Fraser, when we get our dander up. She observed it at close proximity wi’ my Da, at first, and then wi’ me and my sister.”

“A wise woman,” Brianna smiled.

Jamie nodded. “She died when I was twelve. Your middle name - Ellen - is after her. And your first name is after my father Brian. He died when I was sixteen - dropped dead of a stroke.”

Isobel’s hands flew to her throat. “Oh, Jamie. How terrible.”

Jamie sighed. “It was hard enough losing Mam. But then to lose Da, too…when I look back on it, that’s when I really started to spiral. I ran wi’ a bad crowd. Trying to run away from my life, I suppose.” He paused, then looked directly across the table at the Greys.

“I want to thank ye for keeping her birth name. I knew that of course it was your choice, whether to change it. But it means so very much to me, that in her I have a piece of my parents, still alive.”

Brianna squeezed Jamie’s work-battered hand on top of the table. 

“We loved her name.” John Grey reached over to his wife and took her hand. “We loved everything about her, from the moment we first saw her.”

“How old was she?”

“Two months. Bright eyes, ruddy hair. She stole our hearts.”

Jamie swallowed. “Did ye ever meet Claire, then? Did she…give her to ye?”

Isobel pursed her lips. “Yes, she was there. She had been with Bree since she was born. She dressed her up in a pretty baby dress, for the occasion.”

“She asked us to keep her name, in tribute to her father.” John’s kind eyes bored into Jamie’s. “All she told us about you was that you were in Scotland, and had fallen on hard times, and that neither you nor she could be a proper parent.”

Jamie closed his eyes, heart racing, breath heaving.

“She also asked us to never contact her.” Isobel’s eyes softened, and she smiled sadly at her daughter. “That she wanted to start a new life. She asked us to send a photograph of Brianna on her birthday each year, and we forwarded it to the agency. But we never heard back. We understood at the time - or at least, we thought we did. But now that I’ve been a mother for so many years, I just can’t imagine doing that. And when I look back, I regret not contacting her.” Isobel sighed. “But what’s done is done.”

“She put you as my father, on my birth certificate. Between that, and what she told Mom and Dad during that meeting, it was easy to find you.” Brianna’s thumb traced the back of Jamie’s hand. “But I can’t find any trace of a Claire Beauchamp living anywhere in Massachusetts, let alone the Northeast.”

“I remember some facts about her family history.” Jamie opened his eyes, gaze intent on his daughter. “The names of her parents. I believe one of her uncles was a professor at Harvard. Things like that.”

Brianna beamed. “I knew you’d remember something! That will definitely help us narrow down the search. The Internet is great, too - I’ll show you all the different sites I used to find you.”

“She did it all on her own.” John smiled, clearly so proud of his - their - daughter. “We encouraged her. Though we warned her that there was a chance you wouldn’t respond.”

“Never,” Jamie breathed. “Never. And it may have been several decades since I last saw Claire, Brianna - but trust me. If you find her - ”

“If we find her,” Brianna corrected.

He smiled. So proud. “Aye. If we find her, she’ll be overjoyed.”

“Well then.” Brianna pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “Let’s get started.”

[daydream-hobii]

Routine | Poly!TaeGi | Part 1

Genre: Hybrid!AU; Angst with some Fluff

Pairing: Yoongi x Taehyung x BassetHound!Reader

Summary: You were used to the routine you had: beating, cleaning, beating, bed. It was your life for months, almost a year. You became almost numb to the pain, but never the fear. You constantly lived in fear, and when your Master changed your routine, you felt almost hopeful, until you realized his motive. That’s when you met two men, who would save you from your horrible routine.

Warning: Mentions of Abuse(Physical&Emotional), Sexual Assault, Depression, and Anxiety; Read with Caution~ <3

Word Count: 1,355

// Part 2 [FINAL??] //

Author’s Note: Thanks for the request!! Writing Angsty pieces is always so therapeutic to me, just because it relieves some of my own turmoil. This will also be a Parter, because I just have too many ideas! I hope you like it!! ^_^ @missyoueverysingleday

        Life became a routine. There was no living, no happiness, just constant fear and numbness. Your Master would leave at eight in the morning, not before he woke up and beat you for making the eggs wrong - you always made the eggs wrong - then he’d be gone for eight hours, but not without turning the cameras on, which he could watch from his phone. You’d clean the entire house on your hands and knees, then, around five, he’d return home just to continue screaming and hurting you.

        When he was out of the house, even with the cameras on you, that was your favorite time of the day. The peace and quiet, no fear of getting hit or talked down to… it was nice… then that world you created would shatter as soon as he walked through the door, his loud boots stomping towards you. He’d grab your hair and throw you down, scratching your ear in the process, making it bleed.

        He’d tell you everything he hated about you: from your human to your animal side. You were a basset hound hybrid, which meant you had long brown ears that reached the middle of your neck and a thin tail that had a white tip. You had stretch marks across your thighs and stomach, your arms having small ones too. Basset hounds normally have wrinkles, but as a human, you got stretch marks in replacement. You did have a longer face, however, and your Master always made sure you knew all of these traits were bad.

        This was the routine: he beats you, leaves for work, watches the cameras, then comes home to beat you some more. Pain just became a thought after a while, you’d been so used to it by now, there was just a numbness to your soul. Fear was still there, however. You never knew what abuse you would go through in the day… you've been through all of it, every kind…. You didn’t know anything else.

        One day, as you were cleaning the kitchen, your Master came home early, making you wide eyed and tremble - this wasn’t part of your routine. Once he saw you shaking and staring, he backhanded you, making you yelp silently. You cursed at your sound, because he just hit you again.

        There were no words between the two of you, just actions. He went and grabbed your leash and collar, making you surprised. Your collar was a choke collar, which was meant to keep a hybrid from pulling, but he used it for pain. He put it on you, dragging you outside.

        There was excitement in your heart, your tail wanting to wag, but you wouldn’t let it. You were worried he’d take you back inside. You hadn’t been outside in months, or was it a year? What day was it? The warm sun made your skin tingle and, for the first time in months, you felt something other than numbness. 

        He put you into the back seat of his trashy car, getting in and driving. You watched out the window in wonder. Everything looked so different since the last time you were outside. The drive felt all too short and, when he parked his car, he dragged you out. It was a strip mall type place, everyone looking clean and fancy while you just had ragged clothes on, dirt covering you. You felt embarrassed, which is something you felt every now and then.

        Everyone stared, grimacing at you, which made you thought it was about your looks, but really, it was your owner they were wincing at. You didn’t know any better, you thought everyone felt the same way about you as your Master did. He sat you on the bench, making you look at him curiously. That’s when he started offering you away…. You didn’t understand what he was offering, but it didn’t sound nice. Maybe he was trying to sell you away? The thought of a new family raised your hopes.

        That day, no one got you. You still had no idea what he was offering you for, but when you got home, he beat you. It was the worst he’s ever done. There were bruises all over your face and body, bottom of your long ear slightly ripped. This was your new routine, and each day, no one wanted you… until they did.

        That day, a man was looking at you and was holding money. Hope ran through your veins, making you sit up slightly. Your tail was wagging, you were getting adopted! Out of that hell hole!... until you sniffed the air. His smell was musky and he had hungry eyes, making you shiver from fear. Your eyes widened at your Master, who took the money. You had a feeling that this new man wasn’t going to be your owner… you would go home to the same life after this….

        You slammed your eyes shut, whimpering softly as your Master handed over the leash, making the new man tug. You grit your teeth, still sitting, making the new man upset. Just as your Master grabbed your hair to pull you up, there was a voice.

        “Hey!” A new man was in the picture. This was someone who was clean, with brown hair. He had on a blue headband and his face was furious, almost scary, but his scent revealed something else. 

        He smelled kind, almost concerned, for you, but you didn’t know what that was. He just had a sweet scent, making you feel light and warm. Your Master gripped your hair tighter, making you release the bench to hold his wrist, trying to relieve some pain. This new, sweet man reached in his pocket, taking out his wallet. He had a lot of cash, making you frown. He was buying you too.

        “Wait your turn, buddy,” The first man growled, making your Master smirk at the money.

        “I’ll pay double right now,” The sweet man said, staring hard. “I want to buy your hybrid.”

        “Oh, you’ll get your turn,” Your Master said, looking like he had heart eyes at the cash.

        “No, he wants to adopt your hybrid,” Another man came over. At this point, the man who originally paid money snatched his money back and walked away frustrated.

        This new man was ethereal, a beauty you’d never seen before. He had blonde hair that looked a bit unkempt, but still looked gorgeous. He was much taller than the sweet smelling man, and was wearing a black headband with a pair of glasses resting on them. He looked just as scary as the first one, but he had a more calm scent. There was a sweet smell like the first, but his was a bit more tangy, spicy even.

        “She’s not for sale,” Your Master said, gritting his teeth.

        “You were just selling her!” The blonde man exclaimed, frustrated.

        “Listen, this isn’t us asking,” The brown haired man growled, shoving some cash towards him. “This is all the money we have on us, I’m sure it’s enough.”

        Your Master thought for a moment, staring at the large amount of money. He looked at you, before nodding and smirking. He loosened your hair, making your hands drop as you sighed in relief. The brown haired man watched him walk away, looking more threatening, while the blonde leaned down in front of you, making you stare.

        “Hi,” He said, gently. He had on a small, patient smile, making you move your head to the side, large ears flopping along. “I’m Taehyung. This is my boyfriend, Yoongi.” You looked at the brown haired man, who turned to you and instantly softened. You nodded you head in hello, not speaking. You were so used to staying silent, for your Master.

        “We’re going to take you to our home, alright?” Yoongi said, frowning as you looked nervous. “We’ll get you cleaned up… get some medicine.”

        “You’re not going to be in pain ever again…” Taehyung whispered, staring at you. You moved your head to the side, almost cockily. You didn’t show any emotion, but you thought you’ll believe it when you see it.

[meganshinsou-tm]

Sugarcoated. (m)

↳ chapter twenty-two: midnight snack

❧ genre: pro-hero hitoshi, adoptive siblings, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings:  none

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

Hitoshi started to toss and turn somewhere in the middle of the night after the two of you had fallen asleep. After struggling to relax, he realized that he was no longer wrapped around you, in fact you were nowhere near him in the bed.

Slowly he sat up, a hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes then scratching at the scruff that was growing on his chin. He looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was nearly three in the morning, one of the blankets from the bed was also missing. 

With a smirk Hitoshi crawled out of the bed, he grabbed the remaining blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders while a hand came up to scratch at his bare chest, lips smacking after he yawned and stretched. His feet lazily dragged across the floor as he left the room in search of you.

It didn’t take long for Hitoshi to find you in the kitchen, sitting on the counter with legs swinging as you nibbled on one of the cupcakes you baked for dinner that night. On the counter next to you was a glass of milk and a napkin where you dumped a majority the icing from the treat. Hitoshi silently chuckled as he watched you looking off while eating the cake like some little mouse. 

It always amused him how you were so amazing at making sweet confections but didn’t care to eat them, in fact sweets weren’t your thing. You preferred salty and savory foods compared to the heavily iced and sugary treats you made. Thankfully you had Hitoshi and Eri there to eat everything you baked, if not, he was sure the goods would go to waste.

Hitoshi cleared his throat before walking towards the counter, making you aware of his presence so he didn’t startle you. Your eyes glanced over to him and you smiled while wiping a small dab of icing from your mouth that was leftover on the cupcake.

“You caught me,” you giggled as he stood between your legs and kissed your forehead.

He looked down and dipped a finger in the icing on the napkin and sucked it off with a hum.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Hitoshi asked as he continued to snack on the purple goodness.

“Yeah. I tried to lay there and go back to sleep but I got hungry so - here I am. You?”

“Same, I can’t sleep at all when you aren’t with me,” he smiled before eating a piece of cupcake you offered him to go with the icing.

You pouted and brought the hand that fed Hitoshi up to tousle his purple hair.

“I’m sorry Toshi. I know you’re probably exhausted, I’ll finish up and we can go -”

“Baby I’m fine, there’s no rush in getting back to bed. We have nothing but time today.”

Smiling, you leaned forward and rested your forehead against Hitoshi’s. His hand came up and cupped your face, tilting it enough so he could get a kiss. Your heart flipped from how sweet and soft the gesture was, his lips tasting sugary from the icing and making the back of your skull buzz. Your tongue briefly swiped at his bottom lip when the kiss broke and he smiled, amethyst eyes gleaming down on you with overflowing adoration.

“W-why are you looking at me like that Toshi,” you blushed.

“I just love you so fucking much. I haven’t really been able to just stand here and admire you lately with how busy I’ve been.”

Your blush grew deeper and you tried to look away from the overwhelming attention but Hitoshi grinned and kept your face looking at him. The pad of his thumb brushed over your cheekbone as he leaned in and kissed it, nuzzling you with his own before pulling away again.

“Toshi, you have multiple pictures of me in that damn classroom.”

“That doesn’t mean a damn thing. Looking at your face, this cute dimple, scrunched up nose or beauty mark right here,” he spoke and kissed a spot on the bridge of your nose, “all this on a piece of paper doesn’t compare to the real thing. I can’t kiss all these adorable features and feel how you smile or blush beneath me with a picture. I know you said you missed me, but I swear I’ve missed you so fucking much more.”

Your lips jutted out in a pout, suddenly you felt like crying from how sweet and honest your Hitoshi was, like always. The man had a way with words, with buttering you up and having you melt and swoon. The best part of it all though was that he wasn’t spouting out bullshit, it was all genuine and his most absolute and deepest feelings. Things had been rough lately but it was moments like these that made you realize you could always and would always get through it, this man loved you with every vein, every cell, every fiber of his being and soul and he would never let you think any less.

You sighed contently and cupped Hitoshi’s face between your hands, bringing him in for another kiss. This time it was him that was melting. His hands fully released the blanket wrapped around his body and it fell to the floor with a soft thud, desperately his hands wrapped around your wrists as you kissed him lovingly. Lips leading his own in a passionate dance of lingering pecks, soft bites and feather light licks. You broke the kisses long enough to catch a breath and speak.

“I love you Hitoshi, more than anything in the world. And I know I’ve been a little grouchy lately but please don’t ever forget that. I’m so proud of you, of all your hard work, how you’re pursuing your dreams and how you still manage to make me feel like the only thing that matters. You’re my everything, my heart, my life. You’re mine, forever okay?”

Hitoshi smiled as he held your sweet face in his hands, feeling his heart thrumming away in his chest. He didn’t want to admit it, but there were some times in the past few weeks that he doubted if what he had been secretly doing was right, if you’d be happy about it. Right now though, he knew more than ever that this plan he had, it would be so worth it in the end. The hero kissed your forehead and hugged you close to his chest, your face nuzzling into him and arms wrapping around him.

“I love you so much more sweetness. As long as you’re mine forever as well.”

You smiled and looked up, chin pressing on his chest. “Of course Toshi.”

Hitoshi smirked and pinched your cheek before you both pulled away. He lifted you up and off the counter and told you to make a nest in the blankets on the floor while he grabbed the remaining cupcakes, the jug of milk from the fridge and a bag of your favorite pickle flavored chips. You sat on the kitchen floor, propped against the cabinets and watched him with a smile while wrapping up in the blankets. Soon enough, Hitoshi was making himself comfortable on the floor next to you, placing the items before you and smiling. He leaned over, cupping your face again to pull it closer and kissed you sweetly.

“How about a little midnight snack and some catching up?”

You laughed and grabbed the bag of chips, “It’s way past midnight Toshi but I get what you’re saying.”

“Same difference sweetness.”

For the next hour and more the two of you sat on the kitchen floor together, polishing off the cupcakes with Hitoshi eating the icing you didn’t want and you eating the chips in between to wean off the sugary sweet taste. Both of you would drink straight from the gallon of milk together while catching up on what Hitoshi’s students were making in his class, the funny things Eri had said and done when he wasn’t around and eventually your failing job search. 

For the past two weeks you searched high and low for that perfect job, refusing any positions that were held in cafes of any sort. As you went on and ranted, Hitoshi could see how frustrating it was and how the stress of it was getting to you - also how he didn’t even fucking realize it until now.

The hero had been so caught up with his own work, his plans, that he didn’t even bother to ask about what was most important to you. While he was out there living his own dream of being a teacher, here you were struggling to start your own. Suddenly the sweet taste in his mouth was turning sour and Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. You licked tangy salt off your finger and looked at him with a hum.

“What’s wrong handsome?”

Hitoshi looked over to you and smiled, still so bright looking even if you were aggravated from the subject at the moment. He took your hand in both of his, his thumbs brushing the skin of your palm as he held it in his lap. 

“Baby - I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with this job hunting alone. I didn’t even think to ask if you needed help or how it was going. You know my own opinion about it, that you don’t even need a job but I also know that just sitting here wouldn’t make you happy either, so I should be helping you!”

“Aww, Toshi. You’re troubled with enough already, I’m not going to add onto it, plus I know that I don’t have to exactly rush and can take my time since you take such good care of me.”

The hero smiled and brought your hand up to kiss inside your palm.

“You’re right, you don’t have to rush, you can take your time. But at the same time, you should trouble me with it, you trouble yourself with my own problems, like you carry them as well. I want you to share your own troubles with me and let me help you carry that weight. We’re a team.”

You smiled and reached over to run your hand through the mess of purple hair you loved so much. “You’re absolutely right love. Teamwork makes the dream work!”

Hitoshi chuckled and shook his head, leaning back on one palm and holding your hand with his other. His head tilted and he smiled. “Speaking of dreams, what is your own? Tell me what your dream job is, your main goal.”

Your brows rose and you smiled.

“Well my dream is to have my very own bakery of course. Somewhere in the city where I serve civilians and heroes. I’d have fresh products made each day, also take orders for events like birthdays, weddings, parties. I’d make cakes, cupcakes, cookies, macarons! Every holiday I’d have special items. Oh - I’d also want to make hero themed items as well that are staples in the bakery. Like a lavender flavored Hitoshi cupcake or a green tea Deku inspired milkshake! Ah, a spicy ice cream for Shouto!”

Hitoshi laughed and listened as you went on and on about this bakery. He knew you wanted one but never truly sat down and had a talk with you about it before now. The way you kept coming up with ideas of the top of your head and practically gleaming as you spoke was making his entire year. As he listened, Hitoshi was also thinking, the wheels in his head turning at a grand idea.

“Hey baby,” he spoke out, causing you to stop and blush from the overflowing word vomit. “You really want a bakery right, that would make you happy? It’s your dream?”

Your head tilted as you giggled at Hitoshi and nodded. “Yeah Toshi, other than being with you for the rest of my life, owning a bakery would make me very happy and is a dream of mine.”

“Okay, hear me out,” Hitoshi began and pulled you into his lap, making your legs wrap around him as he held you. “Let’s open a bakery!”

You blinked and looked into the purple eyes staring back at you, your brows furrowing.

“Uh - babe,” you chortled and brought the back of your hand up to his forehead, “Are you sick? I mean it is nearly five in the morning so you may just be delirious or -”

“(Y/N) I’m serious, let me help you!”

Your head shook frantically, an almost mad expression on your face.

“Absolutely not Hitoshi! Help me out, sure, by helping me find a job.”

“This would give you a job!”

“No that’s not what I mean! You know I don’t like taking from you, you know I want to earn this on my own! I appreciate the offer but no!”

Hitoshi glared at you, only causing you to glare back at him. His eyes rolled and a growl rumbled through his chest as he gripped you tighter.

“Why are you so god damn stubborn sometimes huh? Why can’t you just let people help you, let me help you! Let me do something for you (Y/N)!”

“If you want to do something for me then take me on a date or buy me a gift - and not a bakery! Look Hitoshi, I let you get me that vehicle and that’s where I draw the line.”

“You let me huh? You can’t stop me from going out and buying a building and making it a bakery myself and legally gifting it to you!” Hitoshi snapped back.

Now your eyes were rolling and you tried to squirm out of the hero’s lap as you grunted. “Don’t you fucking dare Hitoshi Shinsou, I won’t take it! Don’t waste your money on me, I don’t deserve something like that!”

Hitoshi groaned and had finally had enough. Just as you slipped from his hold, he grabbed you again and had you pinned down on the floor. His hands held down your wrists and his knees caged your legs. There was a look he wore, something you hadn’t seen before. It was something that he rarely ever was, and that was mad, pissed - fed up.

“Look here princess, you’re gonna listen to me and you’re gonna keep that pretty mouth shut got it? No rebuttals, no protesting, nothing. Understood?”

If you could physically shrink two sizes smaller you would have. Hitoshi had never spoke to you this way before. You weren’t afraid of course, he wasn’t trying to scare you, he was trying to make you actually listen to him and take him seriously. After a very loud gulp, your head nodded and Hitoshi’s loosened his grip, not fully letting go.

“I don’t ever want to hear you say that you’re undeserving of anything ever again. Especially something that comes from me. (Y/N L/N), you’re one of the most deserving people on this entire fucking planet you know that? I of all people should know that, look back on all the shit you’ve gone through, all the trials you’ve faced and overcame - all the hard work you’ve done! Not just with school, jobs, family, but with me! You’re practically playing the role of mother to a child you didn’t even know three months ago. You cook, clean, bathe and dress Eri, take care of her when she’s sick, take care of me when I’m sick, bathe me - okay, I retract what I said, you’re a mother to two kids!”

You were already slowly tearing up as Hitoshi ranted, snorting at his last statement. Hitoshi smiled and cupped your face upon seeing you smile again and continued.

“Baby, I know you want to earn this all on your own and that’s one of the countless things I admire about you so fucking much but it’s perfectly okay to accept help when someone is offering it! Especially with something this big! You would be asking for help anyway from banks, so why not ask the personal bank of Hitoshi Shinsou huh? Not only would this be your dream but it would be a good business investment even for myself - granted you want my name associated with it, even if you don’t I’d still happily do this for you! Let this be my repayment for everything you’ve done for me, this job, being here and being with me! Most of all let me just do this because I fucking want to. God - I love you so much it fucking hurts and to be able to do this, to make your dream come true, it - it would just make my entire life.”

As Hitsohi finally finished his speech you couldn’t stop the steady stream of tears flowing down your face or the quiet sobs you tried to push down. Still hovering over you, Hitoshi smiled softly and rubbed the tears away with his thumb, leaning down and placing kisses all over your face, cheeks, eyes, forehead, every inch of he could possibly cover. A smile finally formed on your own lips and you asked for him to finally let go of your other wrist and he did. Immediately you wrapped both arms around his neck and he did the same, pulling you up with him as he sat back on his calves and buried his face into your hair.

“T-Toshi, I don’t know what to say or how to thank -”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything or say anything other than that you’ll let me do this.”

Sniffling into the crook of his neck, you pulled away and cupped his face in your small hands. He smiled and turned to kiss the insides of your palms and placed his hands on your hips.

“You’re sure you want to do this for me? This is something so major Hitoshi, there are literally contracts involved! What if ... you don’t want me any-”

Hitoshi rolled his eyes and squeezed your hips.

“Shut your mouth with that. (Y/N), you’re it for me, you’re my own dream okay? I don’t ever plan on not wanting you, I told you already that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Question is, do you want the same thing?”

Your lips pouted and you looked into Hitoshi’s luminous eyes, those same eyes you could most definitely see yourself staring into for the rest of your life.

“I’d want nothing more.”

The hero smiled, bigger and wider than you’d ever seen before that it was almost creepy. Quickly he kissed you and took your hands in his. “So is that a yes to the offer?”

“Yes Hitoshi, let’s open a bakery!”

The both of you nearly squealed together and hugged each other again. Exchanging thankful and loving kisses with massive smiles. Once you were calmed down, you made Hitoshi promise not to make any rash choices without you knowing first, going as far as to make him pinky-promise. With a smug grin Hitoshi agreed, one pinky wrapped around yours as his other hand behind his back crossed its fingers. Hitoshi Shinsou kept his promises, but this was one promise he just might have to break.

“Oh I smell takoyaki!” You smiled and sniffed the air as Hitoshi squeezed your hand before letting it go.

He smiled back and dug out his wallet for the millionth time that day before taking out enough cash for you to get as much of the treat as you desired. You hummed and kissed his cheek before skipping off and towards the food stand on the side of the busy street. The hero only shook his head before lifting an unsuspecting Eri from the ground and sitting her on his shoulders. She giggled and crossed her little arms on top of his hair and laid her chin on them.

“So was I good last night?” Eri questioned with a giggle.

Hitoshi chuckled and lightly hopped, making the girl laugh as she bounced.

“A little too good! You know I got my butt chewed out because of your acting, I thought I was going to have to sleep on the couch!”

“You’re welcome, now what do I get in return Sou-Sou?”

Rolling his eyes and smiling, Hitoshi shrugged. As if the zoo, park and outrageous amount of food he had bought so far wasn’t payment enough. He couldn’t help but applaud and admire how his little sister dealt business though, she was keeping up her end of the deal anyway. 

Making sure to keep you occupied when he was late and being understanding with why he hadn’t truly been around a whole lot lately in her last days with you and him. As the two waited on you to return, Hitoshi walked in big circles as they talked.

“What does your heart most desire princess?”

Eri sat and thought for a minute, tongue sticking out as she scrunched her face.

“A new Chimmy, one of the big Chimmy’s!”

Hitoshi grunted and turned his head towards her, “What the hell is that?”

“What the hell is what?” You asked with a mouthful of food when you walked up on the two.

Eri smiled as you handed her one of the sticks of takoyaki while she pat her brothers head.

“Sou-Sou said he’s gonna buy me one of the new Chimmy’s!”

You quirked a brow and looked at Hitoshi who looked dumbfounded since he still didn’t know what the kid was talking about.

“Oh really, the new big ones? Well if you’re feeling so generous handsome can you get me an RJ?”

The hero sighed and smiled, not bothering to try and figure out what language you and his sister were speaking. Instead he walked closer to you and kissed you softly before you fed him some of your food. 

“Whatever you two want, just lead the way!”

You and Eri both smiled and you walked together to the nearest store that sold the gifts you were seeking out. Fifteen minutes and nearly a whole bill payment later, you and Eri were walking down the street with massive plushies of RJ and Chimmy, Eri’s being the same size as her almost. Hitoshi followed behind with a massive smile on his face, watching as the two of you walked hand in hand and window shopped at the other stores you passed. He didn’t care how much money this day was costing him, it was nothing, he had two stable and very well paying jobs, along with a savings account that had been accumulating more and more since the day he opened it. The man knew that money couldn’t buy happiness of course, but sometimes it helped to make you and his sister smile.

As you continued to walked, Hitoshi glanced over to a store that looked like it sold baking and kitchen appliances. Quickly he caught up to you and Eri, suggesting that you venture inside to look around for fun. You didn’t object, in fact you practically bolted across the street and into the store, leaving the two siblings behind to try and follow. They spotted you pacing up and down the aisles with wide eyes, ‘oh’ing’ and ‘ah’ing’ at the shiny appliances or bakeware. Hitoshi chuckled and rubbed the side of his neck as Eri went to you, he was on his way as well then suddenly stopped when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. There was a display, showcasing multiple mixers of all kinds of colors with a sign that read ‘ Kitchen-Aid Stand Mixers ’. Quirking a purple brow, the hero remembered the night you explained how you never had enough money to buy one of the mixers for yourself and how they were like a holy grail to bakers.

“Hey sweetness, come here for a sec.”

Your head turned to look at Hitoshi and you and Eri strolled over to him. When you saw what he was looking at, you smiled and sighed. 

“Ah - they’re beautiful right?”

Hitoshi smirked and reached over to grab your hand, pulling you to him and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as he kissed the side of your temple.

“What color do you want?”

“Pardon?” You blurted and whipped your head to look at him, hugging your RJ plush close.

“Don’t ‘pardon’ me, pick a damn color. I may sound biased but I like that purple one!”

Your head shook and you went to deny the outrageous offer, “Hitoshi no -”

“Sorry ‘Hitoshi no’ isn’t a color. Now choose one before I do. You’re walking out of this store with one of these things because it’ll make your job easier and well - because I fucking said so.”

“Language Sou-Sou!”

You giggled and looked at Eri who was glaring at Hitoshi as she looked at the mixers. He apologized and let go of you so he could stand beside the display and motioned to them patiently with a grin.

“Color, now or I’ll get it out of you myself!”

You smiled and knew that it would be of no use to talk the hero out of this and if it came down to it, then he’d use his quirk against you. After looking over all the pretty and shiny color finishes of the machines you couldn’t help but keep smiling at the pastel purple one. One of your arms uncrossed and a finger pointed.

“That one.”

Hitoshi smiled and grabbed a box that held the one of your choice in it, he looked satisfied with himself and strutted to your side. Your eyes rolled and you cupped his cheek, pulling his face close and placing a kiss to his lips. He kissed back with a happy hum. After pulling away, you ran your hand through Hitoshi’s hair and smirked.

“Thank you Toshi, maybe I’ll make you a ‘special’ dessert tonight since you’re being so generous today?” You teased and walked past him after taking Eri’s hand and heading towards the cash register.

His violet eyes were now darkened as they zeroed in on you walking away and he chuckled. “Hmm, I’m suddenly in the mood for a certain kind of pie.”

[primatechnosynthpop]

A Rose Shall Bloom (And Then Shall Fade)- part 8

It was all well and good for Claire to tell herself she wasn’t going to spiral back into depression, but it was easier said than done. Truth be told, despite all her years of experience, the right balance between bottling up her feeling and falling into despair still eluded her. When Tracy finally passed away, Claire attended her funeral because it was held relatively close to where she lived. She felt kind of bad about the fact that she wasn’t able to attend all her friends’ funerals, since many of them had lived far away from her, but being there was in many ways just as bad as not being able to be there. It always forced her to fully acknowledge the loss of life. No matter how long and full and content that life had been, it was still a person who wasn’t there anymore.

Micah made a nice speech at the service about how, although Tracy hadn’t been his mom, she had still been important to him. After the service, while the attendees were milling about and reminiscing, Claire approached Micah to compliment him on the delivery of his speech. She tried not to look at the gray creeping into his frizzy hair. Claire would never get used to seeing people who were younger than her looking so much older than she did. He offered her a glass of wine, and although alcohol didn’t effect her, she took the glass anyway. She had fallen into a habit at this point after decades of drinking out of pure social expectation, and she saw no reason to stop now. It was bitter and rather unpleasant in taste, but Claire was growing accustomed to it at this point.

“She owed a lot to you, you know,” Micah said. “You and your dad. You guys really helped turn her life around.”

Claire wasn’t sure whether the dad he was referring to was Noah or Nathan–what he said could have applied to both of them. She supposed it didn’t really matter, since it was true either way. She nodded and took a sip of wine, resisting the urge to screw up her face at the tangy flavour.

“My dad definitely helped,” she agreed. “But ultimately, I think it’s up to people to redeem themselves. Outside influence can only take you so far. Anyway,” she added hastily when the corners of Micah’s mouth quirked into a frown, “I’m glad she had such a good life.”

“How are you doing these days, by the way?” Micah asked. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Yeah, it’s, ah, been a while since the last time our whole gang had a get-together,” she sighed. “But I’ve been doing pretty good, and you?”

She didn’t mention any specifics of her life–such as the fact that business at the restaurant was dwindling again, or that Peter was considering moving into an old folks’ home, or that Gretchen’s sight and hearing were getting progressively worse. Micah was just asking out of courtesy, and even if he did genuinely care about Claire’s life, she didn’t want to make him more depressed. He was already at his aunt’s funeral; the last thing the poor kid (no, he was over sixty now, she reminded herself with a slight wince) needed was to hear about how miserable things were in Claire’s corner.

“Thing are about the same as always,” he said with a shrug. “I’d like to retire soon, but I don’t know if I can afford to stop working yet.”

“Are you still working at the electronics store?”

“Yup. You still a waitress?”

“I run the restaurant now, actually.”

“Ohh.” Micah raised his eyebrows, chuckling. “We really haven’t talked much in a while.”

“Yeah,” Claire said, setting her wine glass down and stuffing her hands in her pockets. “I guess we haven’t.”

*

A few months went by. Peter moved out of the house he and Emma had lived in for almost forty years and into a nursing home. It looked eerily similar to the one Noah had ended up in–much of the layout was identical, and the walls were painted the same shade of light yellow that managed to be both cheerful and subdued. It was a completely different building, of course, in a completely different city, but Claire always got a pang of nostalgia when she went to visit her uncle there.

Not long after, Natalie announced that she was pregnant. This took Claire a bit by surprise, since Natalie was rather old to be having a child; she hoped there wouldn’t be any complications.

“You know, I always wish we had adopted a child,” Gretchen mused when Claire told her the news. “I mean, I get why you didn’t want to, but… you would’ve made a great mom.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Claire replied.

She had been thinking, lately, about the prospect of having kids one day. Whether she liked it or not, she had all of eternity ahead of her. Eventually, she would almost certainly take on another romantic partner–probably quite a few, over the centuries. Having children wasn’t completely out of the question for her in the future. It would hurt like hell, of course, to see that child grow up and eventually grow old while she remained the same as always, but if that ever-present anxiety wasn’t reason for Claire not to get close to people, then logically it shouldn’t have prevented her from having kids either. Still, even if that did happen, it wouldn’t be until quite a ways into the future (Claire thought this as if she hadn’t already lived through so many vaguely distant futures becoming the present).

Thankfully, Natalie had her child without complications. It was a boy, who they named Julian after Victor’s grandfather. Natalie sent Claire some photos of the baby, and sure enough, the photos were pretty adorable. For a while, everything went pretty smoothly in that corner, or at least as smoothly as raising a child could be expected to go. Then, just over one year after Julian was born, Natalie called Claire up in the middle of the night.

“Something is happening to Julian,” she said, speaking so quickly that Claire could hardly parse what she was saying. “He was sniffling a little earlier today, so I took his temperature, and… well, he hates getting his temperature taken, so he started crying, and the reading on the thermometer started… started just glitching out. When I put my hand on his forehead, it was like… it was scalding! I don’t, I don’t even know what’s going on… I couldn’t even pick him up to cuddle him–I burned my hands on his skin!–so I couldn’t get him to stop crying… Victor finally put on some calming music and got Julian to sleep, but there’s still just this, this insane heat radiating off him… what should I do?!”

“Woah, woah, okay.” Claire pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to process everything her cousin was saying. “Julian must have a power! Like, super-heat or something. It makes sense, right?”

“I don’t have a power, though,” Natalie said.

“The gene must have skipped a generation with you, then,” said Claire. “I don’t know, I’m not a geneticist, ask…” she trailed off when she remembered that Natalie couldn’t ask Mohinder, because he wasn’t alive anymore. “Um, why don’t you ask Peter?”

“I called the nursing home and they said Dad is asleep, and I didn’t want to wake him,” Natalie explained. “I know you have powers–I mean, uh, obviously–so I just thought, I don’t know, you might be able to help?”

Claire grimaced, feeling a pang of sympathy for her cousin. She wished she knew how to help, but she honestly had no idea how to best handle such a situation. However, she could think of another person who just might be able to help.

“Hang on for a moment, Natalie,” Claire said. “I’m going to make another call.”

When it came to people whose powers had manifested at a very young age, Claire was only familiar with one: Matt Parkman Jr. Only problem was, she didn’t have his number saved to her contacts (although she’d had his father’s number saved, she and Matt Jr had never really hit it off). However, she did have all her employees’ phone numbers, and that included one MacKenzie Parkman.

The phone only rang once before MacKenzie picked it up. Claire figured this must have meant MacKenzie was still awake, and quite possibly scrolling through social media. She considered scolding the young woman about this, since it was past midnight on a work night, but Claire would have been lying if she said she wasn’t guilty of that same action on many occasions.

“Y'ello?” MacKenzie mumbled sleepily. Then, as if she had just realized who was making the call: “Boss, you ain’t calling to tell me I’m fired, are you?”

“Oh, no,” Claire assured her. While not her best worker by any stretch, MacKenzie was still a good kid (adult now) and Claire wasn’t the type of boss to just lay people off without good reason. “I’m actually calling about your dad… about his parents, technically, but since they’re not around anymore–”

“Oh, actually, grandma Janice is still alive,” MacKenzie said. “Do you want to talk to her?”

“Um, if you could give me her number, sure.”

A few minutes later, Claire was on the phone with Janice Parkman. Not wanting to stop and explain her entire situation, she simply introduced herself as a friend of MacKenzie’s.

“Now, Ma'am, your son’s powers manifested when he was just a baby, right?”

“That’s right, dearie,” said Janice. “Not that I had any clue what was going on. Why do you ask?”

“Well, my cousin has a baby,” Claire said–she might as well tell the truth about that part, at least– “and that baby has powers that just manifested. So I was wondering if you had any tips as to how to, er, deal with that.”

“Afraid not,” Janice told her. “Parenting is different for everyone, you know. With Mattie, I barely had any idea what I was doing half the time, even before I knew he had powers. That’s just what parenthood is like, especially the first time around. I’m sure your cousin will be able to work things out in time.”

Claire wasn’t completely sold on that, but she thanked Janice anyway and passed the advice, such as it was, to Natalie. She wished she had better advice to give than “just do your best and hope it works out okay”, but for the more unpredictable aspects of life, she supposed it was the best advice one could get. And, sure enough, Natalie grew more confident in her parenting skills as time went on. Once when Claire was visiting her, she saw Natalie pick Julian up with a pair of oven mitts. It was unconventional, certainly, but the Petrellis had always been an unconventional family. It was honestly really comforting to see Natalie, despite not having any powers herself, carrying on that tradition.

*

Claire was staying late at work one evening, wiping down some tables so her employees could go home early, when she heard a familiar sound, somewhere between a woosh and a flash, behind her. It was a sound she hadn’t heard in quite a while. She flinched when she heard it, clenching the wet rag she held and squeezing a couple drops of water onto the table she was cleaning. When she turned around, Hiro was standing there, hunched over the old wooden cane he used to get around nowadays. Claire was surprised to see that he was smiling. Of course, there had been a time when it had been rare to see Hiro not smiling, but that had been a long time ago. He certainly hadn’t smiled in Claire’s direction since… well. Not for a long time, that was for sure.

“Hello, cheerleader,” he greeted her, a faint twinkle in his eye. He donned an old-fashioned pair of reading glasses on a chain around his neck; Claire wondered what time period they, along with his cane, were from. “It’s been a long time.”

“That’s just what I was thinking,” said Claire, for lack of knowing what else to say. If he was here, and smiling at her, he couldn’t have been angry, right? And yet, he still had every right to be angry at her for what she had, albeit indirectly, taken from him.

Hiro blinked slowly, like an old cat sitting on a windowsill. “I know I don’t have very much time left, so to speak,” he said. “I’d like to spend the end of my life… elsewhere.” He nodded toward the clock on the restaurant wall. “Before I leave, though… I just wanted to tell you, I don’t blame you.”

Claire swallowed hard, a lump rising in her throat. “You mean it?”

Hiro nodded. Taking a shaky step forward, he laid a hand on her arm.

“I never–” he broke off, biting his lip. “I don’t blame you for what happened, not anymore. I don’t think Kimiko blames you, either.”

“…What about Satoshi?” she asked quietly. “I mean, take it from me–it isn’t easy to forgive someone responsible for your parent’s death.”

Hiro was quiet for a moment. He gazed out the window at the traffic passing by in a blur. The current models of cars were much sleeker than the ones of the past; the one Claire drove now barely looked like what she would have once considered a car. However, the occasional passionate collector out there still took pride in showing off their vintage 2006 Versa.

It was easy for Claire to get caught up in her thoughts while looking out the window–she had a lot to reflect on, after all. When she finally snapped back to attention, Hiro was gone. Maybe he hadn’t known the answer to Claire’s question, or maybe he had known and it hadn’t been the answer she would have wanted. Either way, she supposed she would probably never see him again. Another of her friends gone–but now she knew that there were no hard feelings between them. That was a significant weight off her chest, at least. Standing by herself in the empty restaurant, Claire let out a long sigh and went back to wiping down tables.

*

A couple years after Peter moved into the nursing home, his health began deteriorating, and his mind along with it. Claire made sure to visit him as often as she could. Sometimes he remained in bed during these visits, but other times he got up and moved about a little. Once, as they were sitting across from each other in chairs which were surprisingly comfortable despite their metal frames, he stared at her with a tinge of confusion in his eyes. When she asked him what was wrong, he blinked at her and asked, “Where’s Nathan?”

Instantly, Claire’s heart seized up. What was he talking about? He knew Nathan had been dead for… how long had it been now, fifty years? Peter’s memory had been fine up until now–why would this happen now?

“Nathan isn’t here, Peter,” she told him, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. “He… Peter, you know he hasn’t been around for a long time.”

Peter flinched, then shook his head like he was clearing a mental etch-a-sketch. “…Of course,” he muttered, brushing a lock of scraggly gray hair out of his eye. “Silly me. Now, what were we talking about?”

“I…” Claire gulped. “I guess we were just talking about the weather.”

“Oh, yes,” Peter said, his shoulders slumping down as he relaxed into his chair. “It’s been so cold and rainy lately… not so good for these old bones, eh?”

“Yeah,” Claire echoed flatly. “Old bones.”

This couldn’t happen, not again. It had broken her heart so much when Sandra had begun to lose her memory. She wasn’t strong enough to go through it all again, not now. Not with Peter. Apart from Gretchen and Lyle (who barely came around anymore, and rarely even answered her calls when she tried to keep in touch) Peter was all she had left. She needed him, and although she’d known for a long time that she wouldn’t have him forever, losing him like this, to a slowly deteriorating memory, would be too much for her to bear.

“Peter, take my power,” she told him, tightening her grip on his hand. “I know you don’t want to live forever. Neither do I, Peter, I just… I need you to take it, okay?”

She expected him to resist, to shake his head, to calmly explain why he couldn’t do that. Instead, he smiled vacantly and nodded.

“Of course, Claire,” he said. “Anything for you.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, his eyes, which had grown clouded with age, were as bright and clear as they’d been decades ago. A shaky breath spilled out of Claire’s mouth, and she wiped tears from her eyes that she hadn’t even realized had been there. Peter smiled–not a vacant smile this time, but one that spread throughout his face and lit up the room. Then he glanced down at Claire’s hand, still clamped tightly around his own, and his mouth quirked into a frown.

“This… this can’t be forever, alright?” he murmured. “I’ll keep your power for as long as you need me to, Claire, but it can’t be forever.”

Claire nodded, keeping the smile on her face even though tears still pricked at her eyes. “Just until…” She swallowed hard. “Just until I’m ready.”

That was, of course, a lie. She would never, ever be ready to lose Peter. She hadn’t been ready to lose anyone. She didn’t think it was possible to be ready for that. At least with Peter, though, she got a bit of extra time. That was something, right? But however much extra time it was, it would never be enough.

*

For the next few years, Peter remained in good health. Julian grew fast, as children often did, and every time Natalie and Victor sent Claire a new photo of him she was shocked by how big he was getting. Her work life continued on without much conflict or change, providing a refreshing counterbalance to how fast other aspects of life moved. A few of her best workers retired, and she hired some new people to replace them, but other than that nothing of note happened regarding the restaurant.

Lyle dropped by to visit a couple times, which was nice even though he never stayed long. He’d settled down in a small town near the California border; Claire asked him if she could visit him there sometime and he replied that he’d rather she didn’t. She had half a mind to ask him if he’d move to Costa Verde so he wouldn’t have to drive across the state to visit her, but moving house was such an ordeal, and it would be a lot to ask of him, especially at his age. Once, he and Claire drove across town to the cemetery to visit their parents’ graves. As they stood next to each other in a moment of uncomfortably silent contemplation, Claire cleared her throat and tried to come up with something to say.

“It… it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“What, since Mom and Dad died?” Lyle but his lip, brow furrowing. “Yeah, what’s it been... thirty, forty years?”

“I guess so,” Claire mumbled. “Time really does fly, doesn’t it?”

“Well, for most of us,” he said with a sideways glance at Claire. “Not for you. Shit, Claire, you still look like a college student, you can’t go complaining about the passage of time!”

Claire clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, look at you,” he continued, taking a cigarette pack out of his pocket and lighting one up. “You’re coming up on eighty and you’ve got no gray hairs, no wrinkles, perfect eyesight and hearing, no arthritis, nothing! You’ve got nothing to complain about!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Claire demanded. “I may not be aging, but I have to watch everybody else grow old and die around me–including you! That’s not lucky, Lyle, that’s… that’s…” She broke off as her voice wavered and tears welled up in her eyes. “Damn it, I don’t want to fight you about this. Just trust me, it’s not lucky, okay?”

Lyle fixed her with a cold stare as he took a drag of his cigarette. Claire hated to think about the state his lungs must have been in by now. It was a miracle he was even still alive. Regardless of his smoking habit, though, he probably wouldn’t be alive for too much longer. Why he would resent Claire for that fact, though, was beyond her. She was fairly certain he was still at least somewhat religious. Wouldn’t he want to be able to see Noah and Sandra in the afterlife? She knew she did–or would–if such a thing existed.

“Whatever,” Lyle muttered after a minute. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled away, leaving Claire standing alone among the gravestones.

*

A few days later, Claire got a call from a frantic-sounding Natalie. At first Claire thought it was something to do with Julian again (he was nearly five now, and apparently still quite a handful for his parents). However, Claire quickly realized that this was not the case.

“H-he was fine at first,” Natalie sobbed. “Then Jules hugges him, and suddenly he started coughing, and… and it was like all of a sudden, he’d forgotten where he was! I don’t understand–Dad’s been so healthy these past few years, I don’t know what happened!”

Claire sucked in a breath. She knew exactly what had happened, of course, but she didn’t think her cousin would be too happy if she told her.

“How is he?” she asked, holding herself back from jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

“The nurse said he’s likely not going to come out of it… oh, god, Claire, I just don’t get it!” Natalie said again. “His eyes, they just… just clouded up, and he fell back into his bed… I don’t know why–”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Claire assured her even though it was blatantly untrue. “Just take a few breaths, try to calm down. How bad is he?”

“I… it’s bad, Claire,” she whimpered. “You should probably come up to see him soon–while you still can.”

Natalie didn’t have to tell her twice. After ending the call, Claire grabbed her keys off the counter and her coat of the hanger. Just as she was about to head out the door, though, she stopped and looked over her shoulder to the living room. Gretchen was asleep on the sofa (she’d fallen asleep while reading, which seemed to happen more and more often nowadays) and Claire didn’t want to wake her, but she knew Gretchen would be worried if she woke up to find Claire gone without explanation. Claire grabbed a post-it note off the kitchen counter and scribbled down a note that read:

“Going to NY to visit Peter. Be back soon. Love you, Gretch.

She taped the note to the refrigerator and bent down to kiss her sleeping wife on the forehead before heading out the door.

Claire got to New York by midday. As she pulled up in front of the nursing home and hopped out of the car, she saw Victor’s truck parked nearby–he and Natalie must have been there as well. Sure enough, they were there visiting with Peter when she walked in (Julian wasn’t with them; they must have left him with a babysitter). Peter was lying in bed, eyes closed. There was a beeping machine next to him that he was hooked up to, and a nurse hovering nearby monitoring the readings. Somebody else was in the room as well–somebody Claire had gone out of her way to avoid seeing for a long time. He looked up at her when she walked in the room, and as they locked eyes, a cautious smile spread over his face and he gave her a sort of half-wave.

“Hello, Claire,” Sylar said amicably.

Claire immediately tensed up. She knew that Sylar was no longer the man she knew him as; she knew he’d grown and changed since then and was a nice, well-adjusted person now. She could accept that, but that didn’t mean she had to personally forgive him for everything he’d put her and her friends and family through. She certainly didn’t want to see him now. Still, she knew Peter and Sylar were close, and it would be rude to tell him to leave… gulping, Claire suppressed a shudder and returned Sylar’s wave with a strained smile.

“He’s been like this for a few hours now,” Natalie murmured as she stroked Peter’s arm. His loose-hanging skin was nearly translucent, with a snaking pattern of veins visible underneath. “I don’t know if he’s going to wake up.”

Head swimming with emotion, Claire pulled up a chair and sat down next to Peter’s bedside. She observed the faint rise and fall of his chest, and the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. She wondered if he was dreaming. If so, what fantasies could have been filling his head? At his side, his fingers twitched; Claire reached out and took his hand. It was limp and frail, terrifyingly so, but it still felt warm in her grip–a reassurance presence, just as Peter had always been to her.

“You were right, you know,” she whispered. “Life after high school… it did get a lot better.”

And now it’s getting worse again, she thought but didn’t say. Just in case he could hear her, she didn’t want to say anything that would worry him–or the other people in the room, for that matter. Her life, like any other, had ups and downs. Now, though, she didn’t see how things were going to get any better ever again. Her heart ached when she looked at her uncle lying there, unmoving, and yet there were no tears in her eyes. She wasn’t sure why–she wanted to cry. She should have been crying, but she didn’t. She kept waiting for him to wake up and sat something, some kind of last words. Instead, he just lay there, and she just sat there staring at him. She wasn’t sure exactly how long she sat there, but eventually, the beeps coming from the machine gradually grew quieter and then finally stopped as a final shaky breath exited his lips.

Natalie let out a sob and turned to cry into Victor’s shoulder. Sylar sucked in a breath, pushed his chair back away from the bed, and got up and left without a word. He awkwardly patted Natalie on the shoulder on the way out, but he left Claire alone altogether. Claire appreciated that, at least. In her grip, the heat seeped out of Peter’s hand.

She squeezed his hand harder as it grew cold. Come on, she thought desperately, take my power. I don’t care if it’s what you want or not, just take it! Nothing happened. Peter was completely unresponsive. He was gone. And still, no tears came to Claire’s eyes. She just gripped his hand, tighter and tighter, as though doing so might rekindle his pulse. The nurse placed a hand on her arm and murmured something that Claire didn’t really hear. She couldn’t process anything except for the hand in her grasp. All the warmth was drained from it now. It was so lifeless, utterly and completely lifeless. For a moment it was like it was forty years ago all over again, and Claire was standing in the living room hearing about her father’s death over the phone. She drew in a shaky breath, stood up from her chair, and let go of Peter’s hand. As it fell limply onto the bed, Claire exhaled and then finally broke down in tears.

[sheithlentines]

Sheithlentine's Gift Exchange - Lionheart

This is my submission for @lace–prince. I hope you enjoy it. Happy Valentine’s. 

  “Come on, Little Brother. You know this is the way of things.”

“I honestly don’t see the point. No one will want to serve me, and no one wants me to perform any of these royal duties anyway, Allura.”

Allura sighed, fixing the lay of the cloak over his shoulders, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear so his circlet would show more. “I know, Keith. But you’re nineteen soon, and this is how we do things. And perhaps in fulfilling your duties, the people may come to like you better.”

He had huffed at her, but said nothing. Nothing would change, not even with all of his adopted sister’s love and kindness. It hadn’t with her father’s, and King Alfor was the most loved and revered king of Altea for generations. Keith was no fool: he knew their father had been questioned and scrutinized when he’d decided to rescue a half-Galra orphan all those years ago. King Alfor’s smile could only hide so much.

“Will Papa be there?”

Allura gave him a heavy shake of her head. “No, my darling. The doctors want him to rest, so he is confined to his bed for today. Perhaps you could see him after. He would love the company.”

“I will.”

It would have been easier if King Alfor had stood there with him, too. There would have been more weight to the situation, mild as it was. Allura was formidable in her own right, already assuming many of her father’s duties, already well-loved as the future Queen. But the knights before him weren’t here for her.

“I bet they’re nervous,” Lance, Allura’s knight, whispered to him, voice carrying enough to not warrant leaning closer. For all his frivolous nature, he was well-suited to his role, unwavering and strong. “I was.”

“I doubt they are. You wanted to serve Allura.” Keith sighed, looking over the collection of fine men in arms and armour. It looked as though they’d all spent the last week polishing every last piece to rival the sunshine. Swords shone, leather gleamed, every curve and carve of armour radiant in the throne room. And all of them smart, sharp, powerful men.

Not a one with a smile that reached their eyes.

“These men don’t want to serve me. They’re here for the position and the title, nothing more.”

Because people could barely look at the young half-Galra prince. People could barely call him prince. It had sent shockwaves across the kingdom when King Alfor legitimized him when he turned seventeen, and if he’d had a chance of a kind look or smile then, his rise to princedom shattered all such hope. Altea had been at war with the Galra since before King Alfor’s time, when Altea became a final bastion of defence and reason against the Galra’s insatiable appetite for war and power. Alfor had led the charge to victory, driving them out and keeping them back, but there was little love for the Galra amongst the people of Altea.

Keith had grown up amidst whispers and mutterings, things he wasn’t supposed to hear. But he could, and he did, because that was Galra magic.

And now, he watched the knights as they readied to present themselves at Lance’s call, and he heard whispers among them, too.

But they weren’t about him.

At the end of the group, quiet and alone, stood a knight in shining silver armour and black garb. He was tall, broad, handsome despite the white in his hair and the scar across his nose. He had but one arm, and a sad, haunted look in his grey eyes.

Keith knew that look well, and pushed out soft tendrils of his magic to listen.

“Why is he even here? Why bother?”

“You’d think, given what the Galra did to him —”

“No good knight keeps his honour once captured. He’s wasting his time.”

“Just as well. With only one arm he can get himself and the whelp prince killed —”

“ — brought shame to his family. You know his parents died destitute? Pauper’s graves, both of them —”

Keith knew well the hurt of whispers. He knew what it was to have words whittle away at pride, at honour, at a sense of self.

So he hid his self-satisfied smile at the ripple of disbelief that swept across the room when he announced that he would take Takashi Shirogane as his knight.

“Please, Your Highness. May I speak?”

The young prince stopped ahead of him, and slowly turned around. Shiro caught up with a single long stride, and stood before him, uneasy. It was the first that he was finally able to catch up with everything that had just transpired, from his unlikely and potentially controversial selection as the prince’s knight to their now strident journey to… he still wasn’t sure where they were going. They’d taken a path through the palace, wound down at least two staircases and were now travelling a quiet corridor lined by torches. All the prince had said after choosing him was, “Come.”

And he’d gone along, swept away. He hadn’t even had a good look at the prince, until this moment.

He looked younger than himself, with pale skin, night-black hair and strange, glittering purple eyes. Everything about him seemed knife-like, from the arch of his eyebrows to the corners of his mouth, his cheekbones, his jawline. But all of that softened into something… else, when the prince took a good look at him.

Shiro thought him lovely, even though he knew he shouldn’t think anything like that at all.

“When you are in my company, you may call me Keith,” he said, his tone soft and smooth, so unlike the sharp barking order he gave when he told the other knight candidates to leave. “I am no one’s prince.”

“Forgive me, Your Hi —” there was single quirked brow, and Shiro corrected himself “— Keith, but, I am your knight, and therefore you are my prince. Is that not so?”

A strange look seemed to pass over the prince’s face, and then he smiled, a small melancholic thing, before he nodded. “If that is what you wish. And what shall I call you?”

“Shiro.”

“Shiro,” he repeated, and Shiro tried not to shudder at the way the prince seemed to taste his name on his tongue. “Very well. Shall we move on? There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

He’d already met Lance, Princess Allura’s knight, and was glad that he seemed very amicable and friendly, given that the two of them will be spending a lot of time together when they are not with their charges. It had surprised him: most knights didn’t look kindly upon him, but Lance had welcomed him like a brother, and promised to divulge the prince’s darkest secrets before the day is out. The prince had thrown a grape at Lance’s head, and Lance did nothing but laugh.

So Shiro could not help but be curious as to who he was about to meet, and why the meeting seemed so urgent.

Eventually they came out to a courtyard, sheltered by old trees and the shadow of the palace. Hedges marked out a training yard, and targets and dummies lined the far wall. Set towards the back was a middle-sized building with smoke billowing out from the chimney and sounds of ringing metal. It looked to Shiro like a workshop of some kind. Not one he’d ever seen before. “What is that odd light?”

Almost on cue, green sparks flashed out of the door, and Shiro would have got a face full of it if the prince — Keith; he had to remember: Keith — hadn’t stuck his arm out to stop him moving any further. “Pidge! You nearly hit my knight!”

“Don’t blame me! Blame Hunk! He distracted me!” came a female voice from inside the building.

“Me? I’m just hammering along here!”

Keith sighed, shaking his head, but it was in fondness rather than frustration. “It’s always like this. Come,” he said, gesturing for him to follow.

There were many things that should have taken Shiro’s attention: the wall full of swords, spears, glaives, axes, and daggers; the beautiful furnace, alight with fire; the tools of a blacksmith, worn, well-used, but of excellent make; the books strewn all over a large table where things bubbled and smoked in glass vials, tumblers, and carafes; that tangy, sparking hint of magic in the air.

Instead, his eyes were fixed on Keith, who upon walking through the door, undid his cloak and tossed it casually on to a hook, as if he did it every day. And he could not ignore the long lines of the prince’s legs, the strength of his back, and the precise spot where his hair curled at the ends, just past his shoulders.

Shiro coughed, and hoped no one noticed.

Hunk, a large barrel-chested man with powerful arms, was a blacksmith of some renown, but people disliked working with him because he always wanted to try new things, grew bored of the same old axes and swords. His work grew thinner on the ground once word got around that he was working together with Pidge, an alchemist of some talent who’d learned to imbue metals with magic. Together, the pair’s work was considered untrustworthy, even cursed, and they had nowhere to go until Prince Keith came along and appointed them his personal armourer and weaponsmith, complete with King Alfor’s sponsorship.

“Shiro. How do you feel about having a new right arm?”

He gaped at the notion, but listened intently as Hunk and Pidge talked him through it. An arm made of metal, imbued with magic to make it light but strong. They wouldn’t be able to give him fingers, not as such, but a closed fist at least that will help him in combat. To match, a new sword, forged to complement the arm. Where the arm would act as a shield, his sword would have the lightness, strength, and reach that would equal his skill and stature. Both Hunk and Pidge had heard of Takashi Shirogane, of his swordsmanship and how he had many students once upon a time, but in his absence his students had sought other masters, and those masters poisoned his name to them.

He’d returned to less than nothing, but here Shiro sat now, a new arm, a new life, new friends, and, setting his eyes on the young prince, perhaps, a new purpose.

“I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Just… thank you.”

Keith only smiled.

Perhaps he could never be truly whole, not the way he once was, but in time, Shiro’s heart was full once more.

Pidge’s imbuement allowed him to raise his new arm of gleaming metal and magic, roll his shoulder with it, bend it at the elbow. It weighed as it should, the same as his remaining arm, almost as if he never lost it at all. As Hunk had said, they could only manage a closed fist, but they would continue to work so that they could give him fingers and the tiny joints that would make it as good as the hand he’d lost. To match, an elegant one-and-a-half handed longsword, perfectly balanced for his fighting style, absolutely complementing the arm that was now his shield.

Shiro hadn’t wanted to hope: true wholeness would never be his, but this was a close thing. If anything, he felt more in balance again, felt closer to his old self, and with that, his mastery with the sword returned. There was pride swelling in his chest once more, truth in his smile and light in his eyes. He had purpose, and though he will forever be left-handed, he could reconcile his worth as Prince Keith’s knight.

Days were spent training himself back up to fighting as a true knight. Often it was with Lance, who had similar off-duty times as he did, but his best times were spent sparring with Keith himself. He hadn’t expected the lithe young prince to be quite so adept, so elegant, or so deadly in combat. He danced easily with his one-handed sword, and always kept a dagger close, so Shiro learned to never underestimate him. Sometimes they would spar for hours, goading and challenging each other until either duties called, or they were an exhausted pile on the training ground.

Time passed, and they learned a lot from, and about, each other.

Shiro found that when he accompanied the prince, they would be either on the training ground, or in the library. The prince read voraciously, and often earned the praise of his tutors. The extent of Keith’s intelligence only surprised Shiro in how quietly he kept it.

One day he asked what Shiro’s interests were, and he’d admitted that while literate, his education was limited, his skill with a sword more in demand than his intelligence. Keith frowned at that, and asked again.

“History,” he said, at last. “I wonder about the people who were here before us, where we came from, where we’re going. Where we learned what we’ve learned.”

Evenings were since spent in the library together, Keith pushing one volume after the next at him, patiently answering his questions, even teaching him new words he’d never seen before. Shiro cherished those evenings, not only for the education he was gaining, but…

It was during those evenings that Keith wore his more comfortable clothes, dressed only for himself and not for ceremony. And Shiro could not stop himself from admiring the young man. He could not deny what it was. Everything from the way he moved, the lilt of his voice when he spoke, the way his brow furrowed when he was cross, his rare and priceless laugh: Shiro loved all of it.

So he showed it in the one way he could: with his unwavering devotion and loyalty.

Keith hated performing his royal duties, as most of them took him out of the palace, away from his safe places and into the kingdom of Altea that sneered at him and spoke behind his back. But despite his disdain, he went forward as he was expected to. Shiro had spoken to Lance, and Lance had very little to offer. “They don’t know him, Shiro. You know by now he’s a good man, one of the finest. But if not even Allura or the King’s love can convince the people, what can?”

Shiro shielded him as well as he could. Not just from the hateful eyes of the people, but also from their words. He spoke to Keith in low tones, just loud enough for him to hear — and by now, he’d grown to detest referring to Keith as ‘Your Highness’ in these circumstances — so that all Keith would hear were his words, his assurances. If he could, he would try to make him laugh, in the hopes that others would see how lovely he was when he smiled.

It never worked.

Children were the cruelest, acting on their parents’ poison. Shiro grew adept at deflecting thrown stones, quietly bore it when the wet splat of old fruit hit his cloak instead of Keith, because he’d moved just so. His eyes were set firmly on his prince, and nothing anyone said to him or of him could drag them away. If it meant they would curse him, too, then so be it: they would be cursed together.

Still, enough of the whispers made him curious. Keith was half-Galra, and with that, did he have any of their devastating magic?

“I don’t use it much,” Keith answered, one day when Shiro was brave enough to ask, as they walked the gardens. “I have little use for it.”

Shiro nodded, but he was still only partially satisfied. They were friends now; surely he could ask for more? “Is it because of what it does? Steals the life force of everything around it?”

Because Shiro knew about that. When he’d been captured the Galra druid who held him needed to fend off an attack, and they were deep in the lifeless realms of the Galra by then. The druid had grabbed his right arm, and he’d watched the limb shrivel and wither away. So many nights he’d wished the druid had kept going, just taken all of him, because the nightmares plagued him ever since, and he found himself constantly checking for all his limbs, all his fingers and toes. Sometimes he wondered if his sanity had shrivelled away, too.

Keith stilled in their walk, and Shiro fought to bring an apology to his lips. He pushed too far. He should never have —

“It’s because of their greed,” Keith said, not turning to face him, his eyes on the ground. “They could be content with the innate power granted them, content with the natural system that would replenish them. But they weren’t. They wanted more, so they took, until there was nothing left in their kingdom, and so they went to take from others. That is how we are where we are now.”

They were silent, for a while. Only the wind rustling through the hedges and trees, and faint birdsong filled the space. Then: “Will you show me?”

Keith snapped around then, meeting the earnestness of Shiro’s steely eyes, the openness of his smile. Because Shiro did trust the prince, with his very life, and he wanted him to know that. He wanted Keith to know that he accepted all of him, all he was willing to offer and whatever he would give him in the future. He wanted Keith to know that he, too, was a safe haven, not just the training ground or the library.

His heart had broken, the one day they’d returned from the city and he had failed to hide the stains on his cloak from thrown fruit, or the small scratches on his flesh arm from stones that missed their intended target, and he’d watched the way the prince’s face fell, crumpled like a child’s, watched him flee into the palace without a single look back. It had taken hours before he located the prince, and he’d found him at the King’s bedside, face buried into King Alfor’s side and Shiro had felt nothing but envy for the King, who’d gently carded his hand through Keith’s hair.

The prince had been crying.

“— he shouldn’t have to! I never wanted this! I never wanted this for him!”

“He proves to be a good knight for you, my child. You chose well, and it is clear that he, too, has chosen you.”

“He’s so kind, Papa. He doesn’t deserve the hate the people have for me. Let them hate me, I don’t care, but he doesn’t deserve this…”

King Alfor reached a hand down to cup Keith’s jaw, lift his head up so he can see him. “Perhaps that doesn’t matter to him. We do a lot of things out of loyalty, devotion, love, regardless of what others may think. I do not regret raising you, my darling, not for a moment. And I am more than certain that Shiro does not regret becoming your knight, no matter what you may think. Do you see?”

“There is only regret when it comes to Galra,” Keith murmured, low and sad, and the King tsked him for it.

“The child in my hands is no Galra. Just Keith. That is who I see. That is who Allura sees, and Lance. And Pidge, and Hunk. And that is who Shiro sees, too. Your heart is purer than your blood, Keith, and we who love you are more than blessed.”

Keith said little more, but remained at the King’s side.

Loyalty, devotion. Love.

“Will you show me?”

Keith blinked, and very slowly, a corner of his mouth tipped upwards, almost against his own will, and a chuckle escaped him. “Well. I meant for this to be a surprise gift, but I suppose…”

He lifted his hands, so Shiro could see, and he could only watch as the prince’s fingers danced before him, shaping the air until golden tendrils of light leaked from his fingertips. Shiro caught how his eyes flashed like stars, the purple brighter and more vivid, before a small animated lion sat in the palm of Keith’s hand, pacing upon it as if it were real. He barely stifled his laugh, delighted at the spell Keith was showing him, when the lion let out a huge roar — far bigger than expected for its size — and leapt forward towards Shiro’s chest. Shiro had no time to react, and the light hit him harmlessly; when he looked down, there was a black lion emblazoned upon his chest plate, head held high and proud.

It matched the red lion that adorned Keith’s ceremonial armour.

What was more, the garden remained unchanged. Every flower was still in bloom, every leaf remained green, and the wind and birdsong never ceased.

Shiro looked back up, and found Keith blinking almost sleepily, as if he was coming back from somewhere far away. He had to ask. “Keith? Are you all right?”

Keith shook himself then, and nodded. “I’m fine. Nothing that perhaps a glass of wine wouldn’t cure,” he said, smiling easily now.

“You said this was to be a surprise gift?”

“I wanted to show it to you on the sixth moon of your knighthood,” he said with a shrug. “But, as you asked…”

Shiro shook his head, smiling incredulously at his prince. “You should not indulge me.”

“It pleases my heart to indulge you, Shiro.”

It was some moments before Shiro processed Keith’s words, and by then Keith was further down the garden path, and Shiro had to catch up, lock away the bubbling feeling in his chest even as his hand came to rest upon the lion that now resided against it.

Loyalty. Devotion. Love.

The attack, when it came, took them all by surprise, but not so much that Altea could not defend or fight back.

Before the second wave of raining fire could hit, Allura was already at her tower, activating the shields around the kingdom, her priestesses joining her in their towers. Lance was already leading the knights into battle, clashing outside the gates.

None of that mattered to Shiro. The attacking Galra, the defending Altea: none of that mattered.

The first volley of fire struck while he and the prince were out in the city, and the walls trembled and one of the lower watchtowers fell. People scattered all around them, making for the lower shelters, knowing that the more exposed buildings would do them no good. He stuck close to Keith, waited for his instruction, when another tower was hit and came crashing down near the square and Keith disappeared from his side.

“Keith, no!”

His voice was lost in the thunderous noise of falling stone and terrified screams, his vision clouded by dust and debris and confusion. When it all cleared, there were cries of despair, because the square was buried beneath the remains of the tower, and children had been there moments before when they’d evacuated their school building.

Keith had been there moments before.

Shiro pushed through the crowds, refusing to believe. Refusing to admit that he’d failed his prince, that he’d failed his singular duty, after everything Keith had done for him, everything that Keith had given him… everything Shiro had yet to give in return.

And there, between the cracks of the rubble, was a golden glow.

Keith.

“Keith! Keith, hold on!” Shiro turned to the crowd behind him, the crowd who wanted their children to be alive but feared the magic-touched knight and the half-breed prince he served. “Your children are alive under here! Come help me!” When no one moved, he let out a furious roar, and with a single strike of his glowing right hand, a stone block crumbled, scattered around his feet. “Help me!”

With some hesitation, some of the men came forward and began to dig, began to shift the debris, forming chains and levering rock with whatever they could find. Shiro used the strength of his arm to easily smash and shunt pieces of the wreckage until the glow got brighter, until he got closer.

Close enough to see Keith crouched low to the ground, his hands held up and burning fiercely like the sun, holding the remains of an entire tower away from himself and the children with him. The same children who aimed stones and fruit at him now curled and cried beside him.

“Keith! You’re all right!” Shiro couldn’t stop the grin from bursting across his face, willed his heart to stay in his ribcage. His prince was alive.

But Keith only shook his head. “No time, Shiro. You need to… hurry. Take them. Quickly…!” Everything shuddered violently, and Shiro saw the weight of the wreckage shift down but an inch, saw the golden light go brighter, Keith’s arms trembling with the effort. “Please, Shiro…”

Shiro called for the men to come round to where he was, and together they began to dig, close and deep enough for the first child to crawl out from under the tower remain. Then a second, a third, a fourth…

“Wait!”

Keith’s voice stopped everything. Everyone held their breath, and the weight groaned and sagged, the unearthly light of Keith’s power flickering. “Stay… stay,” Shiro heard Keith growl, and he had no idea if he was talking to him, or to himself. He’d fallen from his crouch now, still upright but barely. “All right. Now. Keep going. Hurry.”

Someone had called for the schoolmistress, so she could tell them how many they should be expecting. One by one they appeared, running straight for their parents with barely a look back. Shiro could do nothing more than talk to Keith, keep him steady, assuring him. At the third-to-last child, however, when Keith was visibly paling, Shiro remembered.

Galra magic consumed.

All the children who’d escaped so far were unharmed. Not a scratch or a withered hair. All around them was stone and dust.

A cheer rang from beyond the walls. The Galra were driven back. It meant nothing to Shiro.

“Keith! Keith, you need to get out!” He found himself clawing into the rubble, pushing and hefting and pulling, trying to clear more of the weight away from Keith, because if he didn’t, if Keith’s magic failed — he didn’t want to think about what it meant, if it did fail, because Galra magic consumed…

The prince was gasping for air, his shoulders shaking with exertion that was fast waning. “No… you need to make sure they’re safe. Shiro. You have to.”

The last child slid out from the collapse.

“She out, she’s out, Keith, please, just hold on. I’m almost there.” He was babbling now, he knew it. But he’d tasted the terror of failure not moments before, felt his heart hollow at the very thought of Keith being anything but alive. His right hand gleamed, his left hand bled, and he wasn’t going to give up. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you!”

Keith let out a pained scream, his body buckling. “I can’t… Shiro, I can’t!”

Loyalty. Devotion. Love.

Shiro poured it all into his right arm, watched it glow the brightest silver, and brought it down on the last of what kept Keith away from him.

The arm shattered. The golden light winked out.

In the seconds between, Shiro reached, wrapped his one arm around his prince, before everything that was held aloft came crashing down.

Not once did Shiro leave his prince’s side.

At best, he stood at attention whenever King Alfor or Allura came to visit, but he knew no respectful distance. He hovered, always by the prince’s head, always only slightly behind his royal visitors. He made greater allowances for the King, who willingly rose from his own sickbed to see his son every day, who had stumbled to the palace gates when he’d heard, shouldering away anyone who tried to coax him back to his chambers. Who had wept as he took his son out of Shiro’s arm and cradled him to his chest.

The banner of the white lion, the banner of King Alfor, was lowered to half mast.

The court had visitors. The families that were kept whole, who weren’t mourning their children, asked for an audience. They all came together, a small crowd of people, uncertain but grateful. They asked for the prince, then the princess, then the King himself.

They got Lance. Lance, who stood before them, his fine features marred by the deepest frowns and the darkest smudges around his eyes. Gentle, smiling Lance, who turned to ice and venom when he spoke: “The Prince is dying. Your children are safe. That should satisfy you.”

Perhaps that had been cruel. But Keith had known nothing else from the very people he served, so Shiro could only feel bitter thanks for Lance’s words.

Pidge and Hunk were hard at work rebuilding his right arm, but Shiro could not find it within himself to care. What was an arm compared to his prince? What was the point of being physically restored if his heart was hollow?

“Will he recover?”

Allura’s mouth drew into a taut line, though the tears shining in her eyes betrayed her heartache. “It… is unlikely. He drew from his own life force. He has never expended his power with such urgency and fire. And he is only half Galra, nowhere near as strong as if he were full-blooded.”

“So… he’ll die.”

“Keith will not willingly take the life force of another, from any other,” Allura said, the tears slipping now. She was proud of her little brother, but she did not want to lose him. “And he is too weak now to pull himself back.” She reached for Shiro’s hand with both of hers, squeezing it tight.

“Love him while you can, Shiro. It is all we can do.”

The glittering stars in his prince’s eyes were gone, now. When they were open, they were shadowed pools of indigo, and his smile, the one he reserved for Shiro and Shiro alone, could do nothing to light them again. His breathing was a thin, laboured thing, and cocooned in the pillows and quilts of his bed, Keith was pale, small, young, fragile, and Shiro tended to him as if he were the most precious, delicate treasure.

“Shiro?”

“Yes, Keith?”

“You should not have to stay here,” he rasped, barely above a whisper. But they spoke so often in whispers that Shiro had no trouble hearing every word. He hung on each one, as if they would be the last in that voice he held so dear.

“I would be nowhere else, my prince,” Shiro replied, and he wondered again about his sanity, if loyalty and devotion had now moved on to delusion and desperation. “I am yours, and my place is here.”

Keith hummed, a faint smile on his lips. “My knight.”

“Yours,” he said, with conviction enough to break a heart. “Always.”

The prince reached out then, and Shiro was quick to meet him, curling the small elegant hand in his larger, rougher one. He bent down then, brushing the fingertips with a breath, more daring now than when he thought he had all the time in the world. The tip of one of Keith’s fingers skimmed his lower lip, and he fought the urge to kiss, to cry.

“What would you ask of me, Shiro, if you could ask anything at all?”

A kiss. A night. A forever. Anything. Anything if it meant —

“That you would live.”

Keith tipped his head then, so he could meet his eyes, and Shiro wondered if they appeared as dull and empty as he felt. Keith must have seen something, because he asked, “Is that all?”

“What more could I want?” Shiro said, the cracks now showing in his broken whisper. “If you aren’t here, where am I to be? Who am I to be? I am your knight, and you are my prince. Is that not so?” An echo, and he found Keith staring at him just as he had before, careful, silent consideration. “I pledged my life to you, and I would give it so you would live. So you would stay with me.”

There was a flash, a single star, in the corner of one amethyst eye. Keith’s breath caught; Shiro held his.

When Shiro let his breath go, he stood from his seat by the bed. Took a step back, and piece by piece, removed his armour. It took time, one-armed as he was, but he was a good knight, and he set his armour down carefully, orderly. His leathers, too, came away, until he was left in only the soft linens of his shirt and breeches. Keith’s eyes never left him as he stepped forward once more, and slid into the bed beside him, lying on his right side so he could rest his arm on his prince, pulling him close to his chest.

“Shiro… I could hurt you.”

Shiro shook his head, burying his nose in Keith’s hair. “No. You would not. I know you. I love you. From the moment you called me ‘Shiro’, I have loved you. And I would ask this of you.”

For a moment, he thought he saw another star appear in his prince’s eyes, but it escaped out a corner, and slid down his cheek. Shiro reached up, wiped it away, running his thumb over that cheekbone he thought was so sharp the first time, but was so very soft to the touch.

“Take of me what you will,” Shiro murmured into his hair, bleeding all his promise and love into his voice. “My place is here, as your knight. As whoever you wish me to be.”

Keith burrowed into Shiro’s chest, weak hands grasping at his linen shirt, and even through that, he could feel that smile, that smile that was his and his alone, against his skin.

“And what shall I call you, when I wake?”

“Takashi.”

“Takashi.” And Shiro felt it, then. That first taste, like a hummingbird drawing nectar, the tiniest of sips, testing and cautious. Nothing at all like the druid in his past: this was warm, quiet. He felt himself drift, and in his arms he felt Keith grow heavier, too.

“It would please my heart… to call you that.”

A last act, a kiss upon his prince’s brow, and an answer: “When you wake, then.”

Allura found them, the following morning, bathed in soft golden light in each other’s embrace. Shiro breathed deeply, asleep, and her brother… breathed. There was faint colour to his cheeks, and the smile on his face alone was enough to tell her that her father’s banner would not stay at half mast. Her hand came to her mouth, stifling a laugh or a sob, she was not sure. It made no difference.

“You chose well, Little Brother.”

A week later, and King Alfor’s banner of the white lion rose to its full height. Beside it, another banner rose, a red lion, the emblem of Prince Keith, and all of Altea rejoiced.

[j-ungkooky]

Facade (Yoongi)

Angst/Fluff/Suggestive Smut (I think?) Badboy AU 8072 Words of pure garbage

Bad Boy Series: Namjoon/Seokjin/Hoseok/Jimin/Taehyung/Jungkook

Summary: Yoongi was nothing more than her cocky, sarcastic, and alluring regular that she had a crush on. When he finally asks her out on a date, she finds out that Min Yoongi is more than what he seems as she is thrown into a world she never thought she would be apart of. 

The chimes rang signalling that someone had entered the café. She glanced up from the pile of garbage she was sweeping to the clock hanging on the wall, it read 6:57 and she knew exactly who it was.

“Pretty quiet today huh?” his deep voice chuckled. 

“Well you obviously can’t read because the sign on our door says closed.” She rolled her eyes turning around to face him. 

He gave her a sly grin before leaning against the counter. “Actually it says you close at 7, which means you’re still opened for 3 more minutes. Should your manager be concerned that you close up shop earlier than you’re supposed to?” 

As much as her face showed displeasure for his presence, she secretly looked forward to seeing him almost every night. 

“My manager should be concerned but not for that reason,” she sighed getting out the ingredients for his drink, “the usual again?” 

He winked and stifled a laugh when he saw her face slowly turn pink.

 Yoongi had been stopping by her café for a little over 2 months now and he always came either 3-5 minutes before she closed. The first time he did was an accident; he didn’t see their sign on the door and walked in absentmindedly looking for a washroom. There was something about the way she reciprocated his sarcasm, looked at him straight in the eye when she spoke and kept her doors open for him even though it was past closing time that made him want to continue coming back. By the second week, Yoongi came to see her every night ordering the same thing: a medium latte. He didn’t even enjoy the taste of coffee, he just wanted to see her.

 “Your hair looks nice like this, sugar.” Yoongi complimented, his voice carrying that signature lazy tone to it. 

He had his chin resting on his hand as his eyes wandered her body. She immediately felt self-conscious and prayed that she wouldn’t drop his drink on the floor in the process of making it. 

“It’s how it always is but thanks.” She replied unable to look back at him. 

The sound of the espresso machine grinding the coffee beans stalled their conversation for a bit but that didn’t bother Yoongi as he continued to admire her through hooded eyelids. 

“Well then it always looks nice.” Yoongi grinned. She ignored him and mentally scolded herself for blushing against her own will.  

If she could scold herself for something of her own doing, it was gaining feelings for this boy. In the 2 months she had known him, she had grown to appreciate his signature grin, his all black outfits, his sense of humor and his unique way of speaking. He had a habit of slurring his words and mumbling the end of his sentences but, she found it endearing. How quick she was able to adopt feelings for him was shocking because she only saw him for about 5 minutes each night which, was an impossible amount of time to get to know someone, yet here she was.

“One medium latte.” She announced placing his drink on the counter before patting her hands on her apron. 

She noticed that Yoongi had yet to move an inch, in fact, he was still standing in the same position. 

“What?” she asked and he only chuckled grabbing his latte. 

“You’re cute.” Was all he said before bidding her a farewell and exiting the café making her 5 shades redder and missing his cologne immediately.

Yoongi stepped outside and took one last glance at her figure before turning around and going down the sidewalk. The smile he had on in the café was still lingering on his face and he scoffed at how ridiculous he felt. He lifted the cup to his lips and grimaced at the taste of his drink. It was bitter, slightly tangy and all around indigestible to him. Saying a quick apology to her in his mind, he threw his cup into the nearest trashcan and continued his way back home with full intention of visiting her again tomorrow and ordering his usual.

_______________________________________________________________________

Yoongi didn’t flinch like the rest when Namjoon slammed his fists on the coffee table in frustration. 

“How short are we?” Namjoon sighed running a hand over his face before leaning his forehead against it. 

“$4000.” Jungkook muttered keeping his head hung and his hands clenched tightly in his lap. 

The atmosphere in the living room became tense and no one dared to take a breath. 

“Can someone tell me how the fuck we’re going to come up with $4000 by the end of this week? Jaebum and his group are not ones to mess with when it comes to money.” Namjoon asked through clenched teeth. 

His hand was still against his forehead and his eyes were closed. Yoongi took noticed of Namjoon’s clenched jaw indicating that he was beyond furious at this point. Yoongi darted his eyes towards Taehyung and Jungkook who were situated quietly next to each other and prayed on their behalf that they don’t say anything witty or dumb. 

“Let’s not forget that Wonho and his group still owe us about two grand.” Yoongi finally spoke. 

“We’d still be two grand short.” Namjoon retorted immediately. 

Yoongi shrugged and leaned back in his chair, “Not like that had ever been a problem for us before.” He had to bite back a smile because he found this entire situation just so amusing.

Hoseok had once told Yoongi that he envied his ability to stay so unfazed no matter what was happening. Yoongi was the one who laughed in the face of danger. It wasn’t because he was a positive person, in fact, positivity was not in Yoongi’s dictionary at all. It was because nothing was important enough for him to get worked up over. Unless one of his friends were dying in his arms, one would never see Min Yoongi shed a tear or show even an ounce of anger. This trait of his benefit him greatly considering his lifestyle. His oppositions could never tell what he was thinking or sense what he was feeling, making lying and manipulation second nature to him.

“We still have a week,” Jin jumped in and shot Yoongi a look before turning his attention to Namjoon, “if anything, Jimin and Jungkook can force out more than two grand from Wonho and them.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and yawned while they awaited Namjoon’s decision. 

“Do you think you can handle that?” the leader asked finally placing both his hands on the table and facing the younger ones. 

Jungkook’s face lit up with eagerness and Jimin reciprocated his determination with a nod. 

“Alright, I guess that’s settled. We’ll deal with this situation more as the day gets closer.” Namjoon sighed and the atmosphere immediately lightened. 

Taehyung stretched his arms and plopped down on the couch, his feet kicking Namjoon’s thigh in the process and he only smiled as an apology for doing so. The living room that was once full of tension and doubt just a few minutes ago was now replaced with jokes, and the familiar sense of belonging.

Yoongi checked the time on his watch and threw on his leather jacket. 

“Going out for coffee?” Taehyung called with a knowing grin plastered on his face. 

All eyes were now on Yoongi who was busy putting on his shoes. Ever since his friends knew about his little getaway at her coffee shop, they seized every opportunity to tease him about it. Yoongi got up and brushed the nonexistent dirt off his jacket before shooting his friends a forced smile and walking out the door.

_______________________________________________________________________

As someone who was known for being stoic and unmoving half the time, Yoongi could not deny the small bubbles of nervousness he got in his stomach every time he went to see her. She made him encounter feelings he used to make fun of others for having, yet here he was, craving more of it each day. Checking his reflection one last time, he inhaled a sharp breath before getting out of his car.

“Wow, 5 minutes earlier than usual.” She commented without looking up from the sink. 

Yoongi felt the corners of his lips tug up into a genuine smile and he breathed in the aroma of the café that he was so familiar with now. He was sure the café usually smelled of fresh coffee beans and pastries but because he always came when she was about to close, it smelled of floor detergent and dish soap. 

“Aw, sugar, you say that as if you’re disappointed. Don’t you want to spend more time with me?” Yoongi cooed taking his usual place against the counter. 

She rolled her eyes and put down the dishes she was washing to make his latte. 

“Can I make a confession?” she sighed tightening her ponytail as she waited for the milk to steam. 

Yoongi raised a brow and hummed in response as he leaned in towards her. It was such an innocent question but it peaked his interest greatly. 

“You’re the highlight of my shift because everyone sucked today and all the customers were so difficult.” 

Although it wasn’t the kind of confession he secretly wanted to come out of her mouth, it still did wonders to his heart. 

“Is that so?” Yoongi asked hating the fact that his cheeks were hurting from smiling so hard and how transparent he was at the moment. 

He watched her carefully pour the steamed milk on top of the espresso and finish the drink off with a flower pattern. A slight twinge of guilt tugged at his heart knowing that he wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate her craftsmanship as he wasn’t going to drink his latte at all. 

“And here it is with a minute to spare.” She chimed placing his drink on the bar with a playful smile. 

Yoongi paused for a second burning the image of her smile into the back of his brain. 

“Can I make a confession as well?” he asked. 

She held her breath as she avoided his eyes and pretended to be occupied with cleaning. 

“I absolutely despise the taste of coffee but I come here every night asking for one because it’s my only excuse to see you.” 

And with that, he left her alone to aid her own hammering heart.

_______________________________________________________________________

As the end of the week was approaching, everyone, including Yoongi, was starting to feel the pressure of their time constraint. 

“You can keep counting that over and over again but we’re still a grand short.” Hoseok pointed out. 

Jin ignored his comment and continued to count the pile of money they had conjured up in the past few days. All around the room, dark circles rimmed each member’s eyes from the lack of sleep and a strong sense of paranoia emanated from everyone. Yoongi and his friends learned yesterday that if they didn’t want to end up in the hospital, it was a good idea to have Jaebum’s money down to the cent paid on time.

“Let’s just go into hiding.” Taehyung suggested. 

Though his remark sounded like a joke, the look on his face said otherwise. 

“Anyone else have any better ideas? Come on, think guys. We only have 2 days left.” Namjoon said. 

The impatient tapping of Yoongi’s foot seemed to echo through the now silent living room. Not being able to handle the heavy and somber atmosphere anymore, Yoongi made his way to the front door. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Namjoon asked. 

“Getting some fresh air, it’ll help me…think.” He replied and began making his way towards the one place that had the power to take away all his burdens.

 ______________________________________________________________________

“Wow you just keep coming earlier and earlier huh? 5 minutes yesterday and 15 minutes today.” She exclaimed sarcastically while clapping her hands. 

“The things I do for you huh, sugar?” Yoongi grinned. 

He felt like he had walked into another store when the scent of coffee beans filled his senses instead of cleaning agents. As much as he hated a lot of things to do with coffee, the rich smell of the beans mixed with her warm presence settled on his tongue pleasantly and he found himself wanting more. 

She furrowed her brows when she heard Yoongi making a ruckus. 

“Are you actually serious right now?” she gawked when she saw him disassembling a table she had put up for closing. 

He glanced at her for a split second before continuing to place the two wooden chairs back down onto the floor and taking a seat. She processed the situation before her eyes for a few more seconds before shaking her head.

“You are so unbelievable.” The small smile she had on her face contradicted her harsh tone and sarcastic words. 

Yoongi occupied her mind when she was at work and when she wasn’t at work. If that weren’t enough to convince herself that she did indeed have feelings for him, she would be left feeling extremely disappointed whenever he didn’t stop by. It was as if her day wasn’t complete without seeing him and with him coming by so much more frequently, her desire to get to know him only grew.

“The last time I checked, I’m still your customer.” Yoongi called out. 

She looked up from her cleaning duties, “Your point?” 

“Where’s my usual?” he asked. 

“You said you don’t like coffee so I just assumed…” her voice trailed off as she was embarrassed to finish her train of thought. 

His ego soared to heights he never thought was possible due to how quickly her attitude changed all because of something she remembered him saying. 

“I wasn’t lying but won’t I look like a creep if I just sat here?” he asked, barely able to reduce the size of his smile. 

She immediately scoffed and shot him a look, “There are many other reasons why you are a creep my guy. For example…” and she began to list down reasons to support her statement but Yoongi was too busy admiring her to fully listen to what she had to say.

To say that she thought about what Yoongi had told her the other night was an understatement because it ate away at her brain every second. She couldn’t make any lattes without thinking about him and when she did think about him, she’d break into the biggest smile ever. Even her coworkers kept pointing out how much more lively she seemed to be.

“By the rate you’re going, you might as well repaint the wall and floors.” Yoongi commented when he saw how vigorously she was working. 

He couldn’t tell if it was because she was trying her best to distract herself from him or if she was actually properly doing her closing duties. 

“Unlike you, I have a job to do.” She shot back and glanced at the clock. 

With Yoongi’s presence in the café, she subconsciously worked quicker and harder than she usually would out of nervousness. Simple tasks like emptying the coffee filters or putting away dishes were done with such precision and skill as to impress the boy. She was so focused on getting the job done right and not making a fool of herself in front of him that she had finished what she needed to do with 7 minutes left until the café officially closed.  

“Well looks like your job here is done, so why don’t you come over here and have a seat with me?” Yoongi called out. 

His chin was resting on his hand like how he usually had it and she so desperately wanted to brush his bangs away from his eyes. 

“The café isn’t closed yet.” She sighed not meaning to sound as disappointed as she did. 

With a cocked eyebrow, Yoongi got up from his seat and walked over to the front door before flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. Once again, she could only watch him with awe and bewilderment. 

“Now will you join me for a coffee that I will pretend to enjoy for you?” he asked her and his expression softened, “Please?”

Within the span of half an hour, Yoongi had completely given his entire heart to her. He didn’t understand how someone’s laugh could evoke such feelings of joy and tranquility but, he knew he wanted to make sure she smiled forever. 

“So what happened to pretending to enjoy that cup of coffee I so kindly made for you?” she asked nodding towards his full cup of now cold coffee. 

Yoongi sighed dramatically and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“You want me to drink a cup of something I hate despite the fact that I so selflessly visit you whenever I can amidst my busy schedule?” 

If anyone were to tell her that Yoongi was in fact very witty and mischievous under his aloof façade, she would have laughed, but here she was, laughing at his jokes instead. 

“Are you saying that trying to fit in 3 minutes with me every day is a burden?” she teased. 

Feeling a rush of excitement and boldness course through him, Yoongi leaned in closer. 

“Are you disappointed with the small amount of time we’ve spent together?” 

“No way! I’m so honored that you are able to see me for 3 minutes every night even though you’re so busy apparently!” she bit her lower lip to keep from laughing as she tried her best to mimic the serious look Yoongi had on. 

“Would you feel better if we spent 3 hours together instead of 3 minutes?” he challenged. 

She looked as far into his eyes as she could trying to read his mind. 

“How exactly can we spend 3 hours together?” 

Checkmate. “I pick you up after work, we go for dinner, stroll through the city and end the night at this great dessert place I know?”

_______________________________________________________________________

The boys watched as Namjoon paced around the living nervously. Today was payday and they failed to come up with all the money they owed. It wasn’t the fact that they had failed that was gnawing away at Namjoon’s brain but it was the absolute silence they were receiving from Jaebum. Yoongi’s eyes darted back and forth studying everyone’s body language. Neck rubbing, lip biting, a tucked chin, and the absence of eye contact let him know that all his friends were feeling scared and uncomfortable. He was the only one sitting comfortably with his legs spread apart and head leaning against the couch. He knew that they were in extreme shit but in about 20 minutes, he was going to pick her up, take her out to one of his favourite restaurants, maybe go for a late night drive and hopefully score a second date.

“Maybe this is an intimidation thing.” Jungkook spoke breaking the silence. 

Jin nodded in agreement, “Knowing Jaebum, he’s going to jump whenever he feels like it. We just have to be on our toes and be extremely aware of our surrounding.” 

Jin’s words were not enough to reassure Namjoon as he began to go on about how dangerous Jaebum is. While Namjoon was warning his friends about Jaebum, Yoongi was busy counting down the seconds until he would see her. 

“If you guys don’t hear anything from Jaebum tonight, let me know. I’m sure if he doesn’t try anything tonight then he will definitely try to kill us tomorrow.” Namjoon warned. 

An unsettling feeling began to form within Yoongi. He grit his teeth and tried his best to push unwanted images of Jaebum interfering with his date with her tonight. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Yoongi found it hard to speak when he saw her exit the washroom wearing her casual clothes instead of her uniform. The feeling that washed over him was something he never thought he had the capability to feel. Something about her in ripped jeans, a plain t-shirt, and her hair freed from her elastic band made everything feel so much more…real. Min Yoongi, notorious for wreaking havoc through the streets of Seoul with his friends was about to go on an actual date with his barista that he had been eyeing for a couple months now. If he weren’t so smitten at the moment, he would’ve chuckled at how ridiculous the entire situation was.

“What?” she asked feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze 

“You look good is all.” He replied. 

And there it was, that gummy smile of his accompanied with his hooded eyelids. She muttered a ‘thanks’ and cursed her heart for beating so quick at his words. She put on her jacket and followed Yoongi to the door. 

“After you.” He grinned while holding the door open for her. 

She wanted so badly to keep her cool façade but something about maneuvering past Yoongi in a cramped space with the smell of his cologne so much more stronger due to how close they were made her lose all confidence. She couldn’t help but find pleasure in how her shoulder brushed against his chest and she had to mentally repeat ‘left, right, left right’ to keep from tripping in front of him.

If the smell of his cologne alone was able to give her butterflies, the smell of his car made her senses go into overdrive. Everything in his car screamed ‘Yoongi’ from the red leather interior, the fresh scent of mint, and a leather jacket thrown carelessly in the backseat. 

“I like your aesthetics. All leather everything huh?” she commented while putting on her seatbelt. 

“I like you.” He immediately replied and chuckled at how quickly her face turned red. 

He had spent hours cleaning his car the other day making sure there were no smudged fingerprints anywhere, no trash hiding in the cracks or crevices and absolutely nothing that would indicate his lifestyle laying around. By the end of it, Yoongi was quite shocked to see just how much crap he had hidden in his car. He had counted 10 concealed weapons and 5 other miscellaneous things that she didn’t need to see or know about.

“Wow, your car is extremely clean dude.” She said while tracing her fingers against his dashboard. 

She had always thought guy cars were full of trash and smelled bad but Yoongi’s car was just like him: clean, fresh and kept together. 

“Well I like my car to be spotless, unless of course you want to change that.” He teased and she had to avert her gaze. 

If it were any other guy, she would’ve gotten out of the car and slammed the door in his face but because it was Yoongi, her mind betrayed her and started racing with lewd images of what the two of them could do in his car. The feeling of Yoongi’s rough hands on top of hers brought her out of her shameless thoughts. 

“Hey you know I’m just teasing right? I really do like you and I want this night to be enjoyable for the both of us so if I ever say anything out of line or anything that makes you uncomfortable, please don’t hesitate to call me out on it okay?” the usual confident glint he had in his eyes was replaced with something a little more genuine. 

As quick as he was able to make her nervous, he was also able to make her feel secure and wanted. 

“Do anything weird tonight and your car gets it.” She replied while giving his hand a quick squeeze. 

Yoongi raised an eyebrow in amusement before leaning in towards her, “Do anything weird to my car and you get it.” 

The sick part of his brain loved how small and meek she became every time he said something that bordered suggestive. But if he wanted her to be a writhing mess under him with the same skittish expression she was currently wearing, he had to make sure their date went well first and that meant being on his best behaviour.

The car ride to the restaurant was full of flirtatious innuendos, friendly banter and a personal question thrown here and there. He didn’t move his hand and kept it intertwined with hers the entire way. She found her hand fit perfectly and comfortably in his though his were heavily calloused and dry. Yoongi kept a small smile on his face as she told him an unfortunate story that happened at work between her and a customer. His content mood was quickly replaced with an unsettling feeling in his stomach from an unwelcomed appearance. His gaze alternated between her face and the black car that had been following him for a while now in his rearview mirror. He bit his tongue to keep from cursing when his phone vibrated in his pocket. No one contacted Yoongi unless it was important and by putting two and two together, he guessed the text he had just received had something to do with the car behind him. When they stopped at a red light, he immediately took out his phone.

Namjoon [Sent 7:22pm]: Hoseok and Taehyung were jumped. Jaebum knows where you are so be careful. Yoongi it’s not just you at risk right now, she is as well.

She jumped in her seat when she heard him cuss and slam his hand on the steering wheel. 

“Yoongi?” she called out in concern. 

She placed a hand on his arm and almost gasped at how much he was trembling. 

“Yoongi what’s wrong?” she turned her body so she was fully looking at him. 

Yoongi tried his best to get a good view at the driver in the black car behind him and cursed again in annoyance when he couldn’t make out a face. It was too dangerous to drop her home because Jaebum and his boys would follow him and find out where she lived. Stepping out of the car and confronting whoever it was back there was a definite no-go and pulling out the one gun he decided to keep in the glove box for emergencies would probably traumatize her. 

“I’m going to have to make a little change to our dinner plan tonight okay, sugar?” Yoongi said. 

Before she could ask him what he meant, he made a sharp u-turn and sped down the street like a madman. His tires screeched loudly every time he turned and cars honked angrily whenever he switched lanes without signalling. Despite all the chaos he was causing, Yoongi stayed calm with his eyes trained on what was ahead and behind him.  

“Yoongi what the fuck!” she screamed holding onto her seatbelt as if her life depended on it, because it did. 

She almost passed out when she saw him pull out his phone in the middle of speeding through the highway.  

“What is it Namjoon?” Yoongi growled not wanting any more things to deal with. 

“Are you safe?” Namjoon asked. 

Yoongi laughed at the simplicity of that question because yes he was safe at the moment but who knew what would happen 10 minutes from now.  

“Well we have our seatbelts on so we’re pretty safe,” he answered sarcastically, “I’m taking her to my place tonight because the hideout is too risky. How are Tae and Hoseok doing?” 

She stared at Yoongi in bewilderment. How he was able to carry on such a normal conversation while trying not to kill the both of them with his insane driving skills was beyond her. After a few more exchanges, he hung up his phone and threw it onto the backseat. He could feel her eyes boring a hole through his head and all he could do was swallow the dry lump forming in his throat. Yoongi was able to swerve and speed with complete control, avoid bullets, lie to mass amounts of people but he had no idea how he was going to explain what was happening to her and still keep her in his life after. 

“I’m okay if you do something weird to my car after this.” He cringed at his attempt at humour amidst everything but felt his heart completely crack when she didn’t reply. He was already losing her.

_______________________________________________________________________

She hugged herself and tried to stay as small as she could on Yoongi’s bed. His studio room was quite compact and cozy but with the absence of Yoongi’s presence, it felt cold and big. Yoongi had sped through the highways ignoring every single traffic law out there and didn’t say much to her the entire way. When they got to his studio, he told her to wait and muttered a quick apology before leaving her all alone. The uneasiness sitting on her shoulders grew heavier and heavier as the seconds went by. Feeling herself growing more and more anxious by sitting still, she unfolded herself from his bed and carefully explored his home.

Just like his car, his home was very tidy without a single thing out of place but that could be because it was quite empty. It seemed like his studio room only consisted of a bed, a closet, a lamp and a few knick-knacks here and there. There were no photos of friends or family, no decorative plants, no couch, no books, no tv and no dining table; it didn’t give off any feeling of home. She crouched down and looked under his bed to see if he had any secret boxes under there or even a board game but was not shocked to find it empty. The sound of the door unlocking amidst her exploration made her heart leap to her throat. 

“Hey sorry for making you wait.” Yoongi came through holding bags of snacks and food. 

As if it were instincts, her arms immediately wrapped around herself again and she took a step back even though he was nowhere near her. Yoongi of course took notice of her actions but chose to ignore it. Technically, their date was not quite over and he still had time to redeem himself.

“Now I know it’s not as fancy as where I was going to bring you but I hope takeout sushi and cans of coke will suffice.” He waved his to-go bag in the air and set it down on the floor in front of his bed. 

“Sorry I also don’t have a table or chairs or any fancy dinnerware or anything really but…here.” 

He grabbed the pillows from his bed and placed it on the floor immediately feeling pathetic at the sad set up. He kept his eyes on the floor and felt his chest tighten when she still wouldn’t reply. This was supposed to be a good night. This was supposed to be a night spent with the girl who made him understand what all the sappy love songs meant and this was supposed to be a night where Yoongi would finally feel normal. He was so close and now it was slipping through his fingers and he was sure he would never feel something as remotely close to what he had for the past few months again if tonight didn’t work out.

“There are a lot of things I have to explain and apologize for but I meant it wholeheartedly when I said that I liked you. I am so fucking into you it’s insane and I swear when all of this clears up, it won’t be like this at all.” Yoongi continued to keep his eyes on the floor and her heart stung when she heard his voice quiver. “I still owe you this night and the nights not over yet so-I just want-I mean-” he continued to stammer, his spirit deflating bit by bit every time he had to reword his sentence. 

Her body betrayed her when the corners of her lips slightly curved up. Though it had only been a couple months, she could never deny Yoongi. Still feeling a bit hesitant, she kept her arms wrapped around her chest but found the courage to finally look at him. 

“The next time we hang out, can we go furniture shopping because your home is so sad looking.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she shot him a timid smile. 

Yoongi’s eyes widened in shock and a small gasp escaped from his lips. 

“A-are you serious?” 

She couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how unfitting his attitude was. 

“Only if you promise to explain what is going on over our fancy dinner because we were supposed to have dinner at 7:30 and it’s already 8:00pm, Yoongi.” She said feigning anger only to break character a second later. 

Feeling his heart grow at the sight of her trying to stifle her laughter, he knew that he wanted to protect that smile for as long as he could.

Time became nonexistent as the two talked. During Yoongi’s revelation, he was frank with her and held nothing back. While he explained his life to her, she listened attentively and only asked questions when he finished speaking and he answered all of them truthfully. Yoongi appreciated how she still treated him like how she always had instead of feeling the need to walk on eggshells. The conversation naturally moved on to other things like each other’s favourite movies, the latest trends in fashion, and where they wanted to be 10 years from now. Yoongi leaned back against his hands and watched her sip the last bit of her drink. He couldn’t help but feel like he had known her for years despite the fact that they never held a conversation longer than 5 minutes in the past two months they had known each other. He also didn’t know how badly he needed to see her sitting on his studio floor eating take out sushi with her hair draped to one side and a sleepy smile on her face until now. 

“Aw man it’s already midnight? I think I need to get going.” She sucked her teeth while getting up. 

The last thing she wanted to do was leave but she had an early shift tomorrow morning. The heavy burden that was long forgotten during their conversation came back as he remembered that Jaebum and his boys were still on the lookout for the two of them. Her actions came to halt when she noticed that Yoongi was still sitting on the floor with a troubled expression. 

“What is it?” she asked. 

“You’re going to have to stay the night and call in sick tomorrow,” He replied, “Jaebum’s still out there and I don’t want to risk anything now that you’re involved. Especially now that you’re involved.” 

Pondering her options for a minute, she realized that Yoongi was right. If this Jaebum guy was as dangerous as Yoongi painted him out to be then it was best that she listened to him. And like that, the burdensome thoughts of Jaebum were quickly replaced with thoughts of spending the night with Yoongi that were equally as troubling.

“I’ll sleep on the floor and you can take the bed.” Yoongi said while cleaning up their garbage. 

“Oh no you don’t have to! We can share the bed.” She said and quickly felt her face heat up at her suggestion; the smug grin on Yoongi’s face didn’t help either. 

“Don’t get any ideas!” she snapped trying her best to hold onto the last shred of dignity she had. “It’s just that you don’t seem to have any other blankets or pillows so you’ll have nothing to sleep on tonight if you take the floor.” 

Yoongi chuckled in amusement before digging through his dresser in search of something comfortable for her to sleep in. She had no idea that he’d already cycled through all the inappropriate ways they could share his bed together  many times. 

“Washroom’s just over there.” Yoongi pointed out and handed her his shirt and a pair of sweats. “If my sweatpants don’t fit you’re more than welcome to sleep without them, I won’t complain.”

If there was something else Yoongi didn’t know he needed to see besides her sitting on his floor eating, it was her wearing his clothes. He was busy setting up her side of the bed when she walked out of the washroom. He’d seen lots of posts on social media about girlfriends wearing their boyfriend’s hoodies or shirts but never understood the hype regarding it until now. 

“Your sweats are too big but I’d rather die than go to bed without pants on around you.” She muttered but Yoongi was too mesmerized to process her words. 

He just stood there with his mouth slightly agape admiring her while trying to find a logical explanation for the feeling he currently had in his chest. She cleared her throat to cut the silence that Yoongi had created. 

“So um is that my side of the bed?” she asked. 

“Whatever you want.” he replied not caring about the bed at all as he made quick strides towards her. 

Logic left his brain when he stood in front of her and cupped her cheeks. 

“Tell me if I’m moving too quick.” His voice was barely a whisper as his face inched closer towards her. “

You basically told me your entire life story, I think by now we should get married or something.” She tried to joke but her voice came out just as quiet as his. 

“Tell me if I’m moving too slow then.” He said before closing the distance between them. 

She was quick to reciprocate his desperation and neediness as her hands immediately found their way around his waist. His decision to be tame faltered when he felt her hands travel up to his head and tug on his hair. She was pulling him closer asking for something more than gentle kisses and he was willing to give her anything that she wanted. He deepened their kiss while pulling her frame towards him until she was straddling his lap as he took a seat on the bed. 

“Oh you can’t be shy now.” Yoongi teased when she pulled away and looked up at his ceiling to hide her embarrassment at the position they were in. 

“Look at me.” He demanded, his voice raspy and low. 

She hesitantly did as she was told only to meet her gaze with a pair of sad eyes. 

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” Yoongi apologized, “it was not my intention at all.” He sent shivers up and down her spine as he kissed her collarbones. 

“This entire situation with Jaebum was out of your control, Yoongi.” She tried to reassure him. 

He hummed in response and leaned his head against her chest as he tightened his embrace. Her heart ached at his vulnerability and the realization of how much weight he carried on his shoulders. 

“You look so good with my clothes.” He muttered making her laugh. 

He resumed placing kisses on her collarbones before travelling up towards her neck and then her jawline. 

“I’ll treat you well, I promise.” He whispered against her cheek and finally pressed his lips against hers. 

Her heart swelled at his promise understanding the deeper meaning behind it. She was only able to swoon for a few seconds before she felt his tongue swipe against her bottom lip pushing her against the edge. Each stroke and touch from Yoongi went straight to her core and she desperately searched for some sort of release as she grind her lower half against his. Yoongi groaned as he gripped her waist and aided her movements. But as eager as he was to advance things between them, he knew better than to ignore the annoying voice in his head that was nagging at. A whine emitted from her mouth when he halted her hips and pulled away from her lips. He brushed her hair to the side before resting a hand on her cheek and smiled while stroking her jaw with his thumb.  

“You should get some sleep.” He said and didn’t allow her to argue when he hoisted her up only to lay her back down on the bed. He found his position between her legs and rested his forearms beside her head.

“Just wait until all this shit with Jaebum clears up okay? Once it does, we can do anything and everything that you want-I’ll even let you redo my entire studio and I won’t complain if you completely fuck it up.” He reassured her. 

“I’m going to paint your walls hot pink and bedazzle your dresser.” She joked. 

Yoongi kissed her forehead and smiled, “You think about how you’re going to destroy my room while I take a shower.” With that, he got off her body leaving her defenceless to the lull of sleep.

_______________________________________________________________________

It had been 2 weeks since the night Yoongi saw her. He had instructed her not to contact him until he reached out to her for her own safety. Yoongi wanted to make sure Jaebum was out of the picture until he was able to see her again so they could continue their relationship normally. He missed her to the point where it literally felt like a piece of him had been removed. Something within him felt misplaced and the growing emptiness inside of him made him realize just how much he needed her in his life.

“Still healing huh?” Jimin whistled at the large gash on Yoongi’s abdomen. 

Despite it being on his body for a week by now, it was still raw and stung horribly. 

“At least I can hide my injury.” Yoongi scoffed turning his head to face Jimin who had a bruised cheek and a cut lip. 

Unfortunately for Yoongi, Jaebum and his gang were able to track down every single person in Yoongi’s group but fortunately no one walked away with life-threatening injuries. 

“You and Jungkook took a damn beating, poor guy’s still recovering as well.” Jimin sighed placing a backpack beside Yoongi’s bed. 

Yoongi ran a hand over his face as he tried to suppress the memory of their fight with Jaebum. 

“Anyways, this is your share of what we seized from them-who’s that?” Jimin’s voice changed into a hush when he heard someone knocking on the door. 

Yoongi slowly sat up from his bed and furrowed his brows, “I’m not expecting anyone.” 

He whispered as he grabbed his shirt from the end of his bed. Jimin nodded and pulled out a glock from underneath his jacket as he approached the door before swinging it open. “Oh…I-I think I’m at the wrong room. Sorry.” Her eyes that held anticipation became the size of saucers full of fear when she saw someone who was not Yoongi with a gun in his hand open the door. 

Jimin was able to distinguish her from the beverage she was holding, which had the name of the café she worked at plastered on it. Before she could get a move on, he had already pushed her into Yoongi’s studio. 

“Min Yoongi!” Jimin sang with a bright expression on his face. 

She was completely baffled by what a dazzling smile this boy had when just a minute ago he looked like he was about to murder her. She tore her eyes away from Jimin when she realized that Yoongi was standing right in front of her. 

“Could you please put that away?” Yoongi sucked his teeth and nodded towards the gun Jimin was still holding. 

Jimin muttered a quick apology before placing it back where it was before. She continued to stand frozen where she was with her hands gripping the hot beverage she had brought for Yoongi, so hard that her fingertips were turning white. She kept her eyes glued to her feet as she didn’t know where exactly to avert her attention to: the boy that had scared the living shit out of her earlier or the boy that she had not seen for 2 weeks.

“Jimin can I give you a call later?” Yoongi asked trying to rid the awkward atmosphere. 

Understanding the gist behind the situation, Jimin gave a curt nod before apologizing once more to her and making his way out the door. She held her breath when Yoongi walked past her to lock the door as she wondered if ignoring his orders and visiting him was a good idea. All doubt in her mind disappeared when she felt him embrace her from behind. 

“I missed you.” Yoongi sighed. 

He should’ve been upset that she didn’t listen to him and went seeking for him on her own, oblivious to the danger that could have presented itself but, it was just impossible to feel anything unfavourable when just her mere presence made him feel whole again. 

“I missed you too, Yoongi. It was weird not seeing my regular for 2 weeks,” she smiled finally exhaling and leaning back against him, “I know I wasn’t suppose to see you but I was getting really worried.” 

He elicited a small yelp from her when he picked her up and walked towards his bed before sitting and setting her down on his lap. 

“Is that for me?” he raised a brow at the drink she was holding in her hand.

She nodded, “It’s tea so hopefully you actually drink this one.” 

Yoongi chuckled and set the drink aside before capturing her hands in his, “Thank you, sugar for waiting. Jaebum got ahold of us last week and we’re still trying to sort some stuff out this week but I swear I was going to go see you the moment everything was done.” 

She leaned her head against his shoulder and watched his fingers play with hers. How perfectly her body mold against his and how perfectly content she felt with him was something she would never be able to express with words. 

“Everything should be done by tomorrow afternoon and you’ll have my full undivided attention.” Yoongi said between the kisses he was placing on her face. 

“Can I stay the night again then? I don’t have work tomorrow.” She asked sheepishly. 

Yoongi swallowed her gasp when he caught her off guard by locking his lips with hers. His lips didn’t leave hers as he maneuvered her off his lap and onto his bed. She circled her arms around his neck bringing him closer and deepening their kiss. She fought the urge to laugh at how familiar this scenario was. 

“Yeah you can stay the night, but I’m not holding back this time.” He said breathlessly. 

She was about to respond when his face contorted in pain after her hands landed on his stomach. Not waiting for him to explain, she pulled up his shirt and gasped when she saw his wound.  

“Yoongi!” she cried pushing him off of her. 

She slapped away his hands that were trying to cover his injury and looked up at him with concern.  

“Did you get that check out? It looks really bad.” She gnawed her bottom lip when she heard Yoongi chuckle in amusement. 

“It’s not funny Yoongi! Did Jaebum do this to you? I swear one day something even worse is going to happen to you and you’re-“

“Nothing is going to happen to me .” Yoongi interrupted. 

He leaned towards her and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I’m not going to do anymore stupid shit now that you’re in the picture...or at least try my best not to.” he pulled her back on his lap before lying down and looking up at her with a coy smile. “Besides did you really think something as small as that would stop me?” his voice dropped an octave and his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip, “If you’re that worried about me being in pain then you can take control tonight.”

***I honestly don’t know what this is and I’ve been working on this oneshot for 2 weeks and it still came out bad so I apologize for it. 

[jillmckenzie1]

Bites with Blondie: 5 Food Trucks to Try this Fall

From chuck wagons to push carts, food trucks have gained huge popularity in recent years, and as a result, transformed the way Americans dine. Food trucks have evolved from being just being a trend, to an official restaurant concept that millions of hungry diners seem to love. Although the food truck phase got its start in Los Angeles, many cities have adopted the curbside way of life. Listed as one of the “Top Towns” in food truck nation, Denver has certainly made a name for itself, with over 113 food trucks cruising around the city as of April 2018.

Being a foodie, I have been to my fair share of food trucks – and I am obsessed. In fact, it’s been a dream of mine to open one myself. Until I can figure out how to make my dream a reality, I’ll stick to noshing at food trucks all over the city – one delicious meal at a time. This year, I have sampled a wide array and so should you. Here are my top favorites to try this fall:

  Dos Gringos –   Newest to the food truck scene, Dos Gringos has been a truck in the making since 2016. Two longtime friends decided it was time to embark on the most delicious journey and show Colorado what tacos are all about. But this isn’t your average street or restaurant taco. Using all natural and local ingredients, chefs Darrow and Aaron craft Mexican-American style tacos and bowls, to cure any craving.

Each street taco was filled to the brim with all the fixing’s, featured perfectly seasoned meats, a colorful presentation and tasted deliciously fresh! I opted to try the 3 tacos for $10, which was perfect in size and oh, so good! The carnitas’ taco – was the favorite! The menu also features tortas, nachos and signature bowls, showcasing their famous Pork Green Chili – which is the trucks top seller. Clearly their menu is well planned and executed as each item is sure to impress your taste buds!

The passion for their craft is showcased through the innovative menu items, which changes weekly, and is impressive for this small truck. With its ability to move through the city, it’s easy to live every day like it’s Taco Tuesday!

Finding their niche at breweries, farmers markets and various festivals throughout town, Dos Gringos was my 2nd stop at The Big Wonderful and did not disappoint!

Farm to Truck – Featuring fresh, organic and sustainably grown products, this little truck whips up some of the best tasting meals to date! Sure, the farm to table concept has been around for years, but no one offers this level of quality, on wheels.

The truck itself is large and the menu is massive, serving up a variety of wraps, sandwiches and salads for any palate! I opted for the pork belly BLT sandwich that was loaded with bacon, arugula, fresh tomatoes and garnished with a creamy pesto aioli. Ingredients are locally grown, and grass fed, which the owners take great pride in. Highlighted on their website indicates the farms associated with each menu item, their growing processes and farm locations. Let’s face it, knowing where your food comes from is not only great, but tastes even better

When Steven, Bronson and Jon started the truck in 2017 the goal was simple – create locally sourced dishes for all to enjoy – which is easily reflected. These men are committed to their mission, while creating mouthwatering meals, proving not all food trucks are created equal.

  Goin’ South – Y’all, let’s be real.

I am a sucker for all things southern. Give me all the hush puppies, shrimp grits, po’ boys and fried green tomatoes, and I’m one happy girl. Throw in some sweet tea and I’m in Heaven.

Making his way from the South to the Mile-High City, chef Scott decided to share his classic southern dishes with Denverites, offering his take on “fine dining.” Conveniently located curbside, this truck can be found at local farmers markets and various events throughout town, serving up the classics from Louisiana.

After drooling over the delicious menu at the Federal Center farmers market , I opted to try the fried shrimp po’ boy with a side of traditional potato salad. Traditionally served on a hoagie (but sold out due to popularity) the sandwich was placed on the most deliciously toasted brioche bun. The corn meal dusted shrimp, fresh arugula, tomato and smoked aioli made the sandwich delicious and full of flavor! The side of potato salad was a nice touch, tangy and featured just the right amount of seasoning.

The menu is truly one of a kind featuring all the Southern classics – everything from Muffuletta’s, fried catfish and hushpuppies to smoked BBQ pork and house-made coleslaw! They even have vegetarian options – with fried eggplant!

Fresh from the smoker or fryer, there is literally something for everyone! Prices are insanely reasonable for all you get, and staff is ultra-friendly. Want to see where they are headed next? Check out their website or social media channels updated locations and brewery stops!

Roll it up Sushi – I know what you’re thinking. Sushi, from a truck?! I must admit I was a little skeptical myself, but that changed, quickly. Co-founders Mathew Yamali and David Jagodzinski have always had the dream of trading in their fifteen-hour work days and creating a one-of-a-kind food truck, and finally took the plunge in 2016. Enter Roll it up!

Roll it up creates restaurant grade sushi and appetizers, without the traditional sit-down experience, creating a more casual and unique style. After first hearing about this little gem at the DTC Eats, I knew I had to try it.

Upon entering the line, I was immediately taken with the staff in the truck. Cracking jokes, laughing and exuding positivity, which made the experience fun! Both Mathew and David work in the truck daily, rolling sushi and creating dishes to create relationships with their customers, which is truly genuine.

I ordered the crispy gyoza dumplings, which featured a blend of chicken and veggies, fried and topped with young onion, sesame-teriyaki and white sesame seed. With the perfect amount of crunch and killer sauce, I couldn’t resist ordering more! The menu features a variety of delicious options ranging from poke’ bowls, traditional and fancy sushi rolls, to unique street tacos! All ingredients are fresh, prepared upon order and gorgeous in presentation.

Need an even bigger reason to try this truck? They offer reasonably priced catering options, are available for any private event AND offer sushi rolling classes! Head to their Instagram for updates on locations and events!

Chicken Rebel – Hot Damn! It has been my sole mission to try this spot ever since the OG truck drove from San Diego to Denver for the entire month of July in 2017. Because the boys behind this operation have discovered just how much Denver loves its fried food, they are here to stay – for good!

Primarily parked at Finn’s Manor in RiNo, I hit up the “food truck pod” to experience Chicken Rebel’s famed fried chicken. Upon arrival, staff instantly greeted me, were outgoing and beyond helpful in choosing from their limited, but seriously-can’t-decide, menu. The boys frying up the goods, perfectly craft each sandwich by hand and ensure its quality before alerting diners their meal is ready via pager.

I opted to try the famous “rancher,” which features a thin layer of avocado on the bottom of a perfectly toasted bun, crisp bacon, and the largest piece of fried chicken ever drizzled with buttermilk ranch dressing! HOLY DELICIOUS! Another popular favorite –  the “Hot Mess,” which was deliciously spicy topped with house made jalapeno slaw. My favorite part? The tots – which are as fancy as they come! Try their feature of the day, which ranges from “animal style” and sweet potato to garlic parmesan and herb dusted with lemon zest! Wait time for each sandwich can be a bit long, but each sandwich is all well worth the wait.

Can’t make it to Finn’s? The truck does venture to surrounding breweries in the area and regularly updates Instagram of their whereabouts. Even better – the brick and mortar location is coming soon!

With food trucks checking all the boxes for diners, it’s easy to see why they are popular, and not going anywhere! Now – we eat!

from Blog https://ondenver.com/bites-with-blondie-5-food-trucks-to-try-this-fall/