#There was supposed to be dot be an owl behind him too

[kayberrie]

Ugly ugly drawing that is not and never will be finished because I don’t care if those wolves look bad: I spent two hours on them and I refuse to ever look at them again

[butternuggets-blog]

Prompt: Teenagers scare the living shit out of me

For @adarafaelbarba 's "The Show Must Go On" song lyrics prompt list, and @leftenantjopson 😊

SAS Rogue Heroes Highschool AU

'He's quiet in his room' Mr Sadler looked up at the ceiling and sipped his cup of tea.

His wife looked up from her sausage roll and smiled. 'He was down at the post office earlier, picking up packages. He's ordered such a lot of stuff, I shouldn't wonder he'll be unpacking for while.'

'And there's his drill' Mr Sadler frowned thoughtfully at the high-pitched whine. 'What is that boy building up there?'

Mrs Sadler shrugged. 'Heaven knows.'

Noises continued to happen for the rest of the day, pausing only when Mike came down for dinner. He had black dusting his fingertips - 'Wash your hands please, dear' - and a paint streaked on one pant leg, but his parents didn't push him for answers.

'Could I go camping in the woods next week please?'

'I thought your friends were all scattering for the summer holidays?' Mrs Sadler raised an eyebrow.

Mike nodded. 'They are.'

'Well, please be careful dear, and do let us know when you are leaving. Oh, and remember to keep your mobile phone charged!'

'Of course, Mum.'

Mr Sadler waited until his wife had gone into the kitchen for a second helping of desert and leaned across the table towards his son.

'Is all that-' he jerked his chin up towards the ceiling, '- for the trip?'

Mike nodded, grinning.

'Don't get caught' said Mr Sadler, with a wink.

________________________________________________________________

Marc Halévy squinted at the map in the dying sunlight. He knew where the campsite was, he just...couldn't find it.

'Here.' Grapes leaned over, flashlight in hand, and tapped the black dot they were supposed to be hiking towards.

'Merci,' Halévy folded the map and pushed it back into the side pocket of his backpack. 'I do not want to sleep alone out here.'

'You're not alone,' Grapes nudged him gently with his elbow. 'You have me.'

Halévy chuckled and nudged him back as they continued walking down the dirt track. They were an hour behind their friends; the bus had broken down and although they had run as fast as they could to the meet-up point everyone was long gone. They had accidentally double-backed on themselves twice, but they had found the correct hiking path eventually.

The sun passed below the horizon and they put on their headlamps, huddling closer against the sounds of the night. A low-flying owl startled them when it swooped past after a mouse. The wind suddenly picked up, stirring the trees and causing the shadows to flicker ominously across the track; by the time they reached the second-to-last hill before the campsite Grapes had tripped on three fallen branches and Halévy had put his foot into a muddy puddle.

'I knew packing three pairs of socks was a good idea,' Halévy said cheerfully, untying his boots while he held onto Grapes' shoulder for support. 'André said I was being ridiculous-'

They froze as the screech ripped through the trees.

It was way too loud to be far away. It sounded inhuman but unlike any animal Halévy had ever heard before, with a sharp quality that hurt his ears.

He scanned the woods desperately for the source of the noise.

Nothing.

No, not nothing.

Two glowing red eyes were looking at him through the gloom. They were attached to a body that was at least six foot tall, but all other details of its appearance were lost in the gloom.

Then it opened a pair of wings as wide as Halévy's mother's car and screeched again.

'AAAAAHHHHHH!!!'

Halévy took off running, pulling Grapes along behind him. He lost his loose boot immediately but didn't slow down, leaving the shoe abandoned on the track as he ran for his life.

[feralforfrank]

── NOTHING'S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary reader gets injured while looking out for the team and simon riley worries.

cw descriptive scenes of reader getting injured, cod canon violence, stab wounds & blood loss, worried!simon riley. angst!!!!! hurt with tiny bit of comfort (from simon to reader) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. tell me if i missed anything!

note is this deserving of a part two? does it feel rushed? is THIS really how i want to enter the cod mw2 fandom!?!! so many questions.

part two | 1,3K | masterlist

"Ghost," you spoke his name in a hushed tone, mainly to hide from the enemy but also to hide the shake in your voice.

"I'm here, Owl. I'm coming to get ya." You could hear Ghost running, and you tried to focus on the sounds he made instead of the stinging pain on your thigh and side.

It was your fault. All of it. You were supposed to be on the roof, not on the goddamn ground. You're a sniper, for fuck's sake. But being above ground, you spotted two men making their way to where the team's getaway car was. You weren't allowing them to steal your vehicle, but if you shot at them, it would alert the others, and your position would've been compromised.

You knew how to fight. Although you never liked engaging the enemy face to face and your eyes were better used above ground, thus why you were a sniper and why they called you Owl, Ghost and Soap trained you to take down men as big as them. 

The first man went down quickly, he was skinny, and you surprised him. He was gurgling on his one blood in seconds. The second guy pinned you to the wall. You took your second knife from your right thigh strap and pierced his stomach twice. He was slipping from your grasp when you felt the knife you'd used on him puncture your thigh. 

You screamed. A shriek left your mouth before you could stop it. Your thigh throbbed as you landed a final blow on the side of the man's neck. You stumbled off the wall, blinking the tears and black dots away. You heard someone call your name through comms, but you didn't have time to answer.

The third man came behind you. He must've heard you scream. He circled his buff biceps around your throat and squeezed. Fight and flight kicked in. Andrenaline was pumping in your bloodstream, and, without thinking twice, you bit his bicep. Hard.

He cursed and moved away from you for a split second, and you got a chance to suck in a breath. You stumbled forward, but he caught you, spinning you around and pulling you so impossibly close. 

At first, you didn't feel it. A shot rang out, and his body slumped forward, distracting you. The man was dead in your arms, and his blood had splattered on your face and continued spilling on your shoulder. Your head shot up to your station—that's where the gunshot had come from. Gaz asked you if you were okay. You tried to nod, and that's when you felt it. 

Your ears started ringing. You stepped back, the man falling completely from your grasp and onto the ground. You choked on your breath. Your hand instinctively fell to your side and then rose in front of your face. You were bleeding from two places now.

Gaz called for you again, but you didn't answer. You felt dizzy, and as much as you tried blinking those black spots away, they just wouldn't go. You leaned against the wall. Ghost ordered your whereabouts, and Gaz answered him hurriedly, adding that he could see you losing consciousness. So, that's who shot from your position. Ghost confirmed that he was coming your way.

And that's how you ended up in this position.

"Please, hurry." Your cry of pain made the lieutenant's pace pick up.

Ghost always had some sort of a soft spot for you. Your kind-hearted, friendly nature and bubbly personality didn't help his growing infatuation. You were too sweet for your own good, and he swore your sarcastic comments directed mostly at Soap always managed to melt his heart.

The guys weren't oblivious—they could see how Ghost always stared at you. His hard eyes seemed to soften when looking at you. Actually, his whole posture changed when you were around. Ghost was always near you, a soft hand placed on your lower back and guiding you when you were in the dark during missions, and glances were thrown at you when you were too quiet to make sure you were doing okay.

Soap and Gaz had joked about his fascination with you, asking him why he never made a move. He'd shut them down and called them inappropriate before lowering his head to hide how flustered he felt. He thought burying those teenage sentiments at the very back of his mind would be the best. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, and for fuck's sake, he was your superior.

But as he heard your breath come out in gasps and Gaz telling him to hurry up through comms, he felt panic inside him. His steps became more urgent, and his grip on the gun tightened. He was almost there.

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you." Ghost's voice was filled with utter panic and anxiety, and he took a breath to get rid of the shake in his tone. "I'm almost there, darlin'."

Fuck. 

He hadn't meant for that to slip out. He heard your breath hitch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

He turned the corner, and there you were, slumped on the wall, holding your side with your palm and breathing heavily. He placed his gun in its holster and ran toward you. You collapsed with a groan, your forehead touching his vest.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I'm so sorry. They were—They were trying to escape with our c-car, and I couldn't let—I couldn't let them—" You gasped for breath as Ghost looked around at the dead bodies.

It was dark, but he could make out three silhouettes, definitely larger frames than yours, and they all lay dead in a puddle of their own blood. 

"It's okay, it's alright, love. I'm here now. I'm not goin' anywhere." A soft whimper escaped your lips, and he felt your body give in to the fatigue caused by the blood loss. 

Ghost picked you up, requesting the rest of the team to meet him at his location. The car was unlocked and untouched, and his heart swole with pride. You'd taken out three soldiers to protect the team and secure their getaway transportation.

You mumbled his name as he placed you in the backseat. He quickly got in, and pulled you in his arms again, one palm pressing on your wounded side and the other on your bleeding thigh. 

Soap slipped in the driver's seat, Gaz following right behind him. "How's she doing, Lt.?" The former asked, glancing behind him once.

"She'll be fine if you move this goddamn car!" Ghost's tone was sharp, but Soap didn't take it personally.

"Where to, Ghost?" John asked.

"The safe house. Make sure no one follows us. As soon as we're in the clear, Gaz, you call Price. Tell 'im to send evac." Gaz nods curtly, followed by a yes, sir.

"Simon." You shift, snuggling closer to his body.

The frown on your face deepens. Simon looks down at you. His heart hasn't stopped its rapid beating, and worry mixed with panic is still swirling in his blood. He wants to tell John to hurry the fuck up, but he knows the soldier is going as fast as possible.

You whine in distress, your eyes blinking ever so slowly. Your ears ring, your gaze is unfocused, and your eyes are glassy with tears ready to fall. 

"Shh, it's alright, love," Simon whispers. "You're goin' be okay."

"Am I dying?" You speak in hushed panic.

Simon shakes his head quickly from side to side as if your words burned him. "No, you're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed, okay? I can fix it." He's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince you.

"Are they after us?" He shakes his head again. "So, we're safe? I'm safe?"

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. As long as I'm here, no one's hurting you again, ya hear me?" The finality in his voice is the reassurance you need to soothe you.

You feel your eyes drooping again, and the ringing in your ears finally fades out. "Thank you, Simon."

› part two

[sergeantsporks]

Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 21/?: Storytime

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17,  Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21

In which none of the previous golden guards or wittebro died, actually, they're all fine and living happily together as one big dysfunctional family

Ao3

“Where’s King?!”

Phoenix swept one hand out. “Where you’ll never see him again! Unless…”

The Collector’s eyes narrowed. “Unless what?”

“I might give him back. If you do something for me.”

Oh, excellent, Odalia’s voice echoed in his head, Make him promise something as part of the game? What should our demands be?

“I’d never help you!” Collector shouted, “Never ever in a million years! Eda, now!”

Phoenix braced himself, but nothing happened.

“Eda?” Collector asked, “Hello?”

An older woman shuffled out of the trees, hobbling towards Phoenix. “Ah—you’re surrounded? Golden Guard?”

Collector heaved a sigh. “Awwww, you were supposed to drop out of the sky on him!!!”

The old woman shook like a leaf. “I’m s-sorry, I just c-can’t…”

Phoenix held out an arm for her to balance on. “Hey—maybe a break? Time out? Not everyone can—”

Collector sighed again, this time even bigger and more exaggerated. “Okay, I guess she doesn’t have to be Eda. Since she’s too old.”

The old woman’s spine stiffened. “No, please I can—”

Phoenix pushed her slightly behind him. “You don’t need to make her into a puppet—I’m sure she’d be happy to play another role, one that’s not so… active.”

“Nahhhhhh, being a puppet means her joints won’t be all hurting anymore. We can oil them, and they won’t be creaky and bad! It’ll be good! Boop!” The Collector snapped his fingers, and a moon shot out, zooming around Phoenix and hitting the old woman on her forehead. She stiffened, then fell into a relaxed position, her clothes dotted with stars. The Collector clapped his hands, and she disappeared. Phoenix’s stomach roiled.

Another loss.

“Where did you put King, Phoenix? This isn’t very fun now that we don’t have an Eda. I know! We can do one where you’re a good guy next!”

Phoenix squared his shoulders and turned to the blue tree next to him, holding up his hands. “King?”

King jumped out of the tree and into Phoenix’ arms. “Hey.”

“Aw, man, he was just in the tree?! Boy, you two are bad at hide and seek.”

“Why don’t we practice, then?” Phoenix suggested, setting King down,“We’ll hide, you seek.”

“Yeah,” King piped up, “Give us uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh five hundred seconds?”

“Better do a thousand. Just to be safe.”

“Hmmmm. Okay.” The Collector snapped his fingers, and about ten of his star spies appeared around him, blinking their red eyes in unison. “They’ll count, too!” He tugged his hat over his eyes. “One… two…”

Phoenix scooped King up and ran off into the trees. He took the necklace from Odalia off, hurling it into the trees.  “Test run, alright? Look for good places to hide in the area. Where will his spies have trouble seeing us, where he’ll have trouble seeing us—any hiding spot is good, but try to find some that will be big enough for all of us. If we split up, we’ll cover more ground.”

“Have you figured a way out of the archive house yet?”

“Working on it. Any chance Eda could fly us out?”

“Maybe? We need to turn her back first, though. The Owl Beast is unpredictable.”

“Which we need Lilith for,” Phoenix finished, “Right. Alright, see you in a bit.”

He set King down and ran in the direction he’d thrown the necklace, shaking the dirt off of it and dropping it back over his head.

What happened?!

“Dropped it,” Phoenix lied, “You know how it is.”

Mmm. What was that?

“What was what?”

Trying to protect that puppet?!

“She wasn’t a puppet yet.” Phoenix looked up, drawing a mental line from the archive house to his position. “The more allies we have the better.”

Yes, some help she’ll be. Don’t pretend you’re just ever so on board with my plans, you were outright refusing them two days ago. What’s your plan?

“Right now, my plan is to play hide and seek. And you’re noisy.”

Don’t you dare—

Phoenix lifted the necklace back over his head, tucking it in his pocket. Trees loomed on every side of him, but none of them offered much cover. Phoenix dipped his hand in a sparkling stream. Cold water. Definitely the Collector’s. Phoenix followed the stream through the trees. If they needed to stay in the Collector’s domain for long, they’d need a water source—and, at least, it was a feature that wouldn’t change.

The stream widened, turning to a rushing, roaring river that tumbled over a cliff in a waterfall. Phoenix squinted, shading his eyes. The river stretched onwards, snaking all the way out of the blue  trees and into the red.

“We can follow it out,” Phoenix mused out loud. Not that the world outside of the Collector’s territory was much safer, but it was a start.

“ONE THOUSAND,” Collector’s voice called, and Phoenix ducked back into the trees, scrambling into their branches.

He did not count to one thousand.

One of the Collector’s spies whirred through the air, sweeping the area. Its eyes fixed on Phoenix, blinking red.

And then it moved on.

Phoenix let out a deep breath. So. It’s eyesight is—

“Boo!”

Phoenix yelped, falling backwards. He locked his knees around the tree branch he was on, swinging upside-down. The Collector floated next to him, also upside down.

“Wow, you aren’t super great at hiding, my sentry spotted you in like. Four seconds.”

Phoenix reached up and grabbed the tree branch with his hands, letting go with his legs and flipping the right way up. He released the branch, dropping to the ground.

Never mind, then. Trees—not a good place to hide.

“Did you find King?”

“Mmmm not yet. He’s smaller, so I bet he found a better place to hide than you.”

“We should split up to find him,” Phoenix suggested, “Cover more ground.”

That way, I can keep mapping the area and looking for a way out of here.

“Oh, yeah, good plan! But how will we let each other know if we find him… Oh, I know!”

Collector snapped his fingers, and a bracelet appeared around Phoenix’s wrist, with a little pull string. “Pull it if you find him. It’ll let me know where you are! And I’ll send up a huge beam of light if I find him, you’ll definitely be able to see it. Okay, off we go! I’ll goooooo this way, and you go that way!”

Collector floated off into the trees, and Phoenix heaved a sigh of relief, pushing in the opposite direction. He looked up at the archive house again, judging the distance from the house to the tip of the titan’s horn. If he could find where the two were closest from inside the house, there would probably be a window. Maybe they could jump to the horn?

Risky. But if we can’t get Eda in flying shape, it might be our best bet.

Phoenix pressed onwards, trying to stick close to the stream.

I could run. Right now, I could run.

The thought hit him like a thunderbolt. The Collector was more occupied with King right now—he could follow this stream out to the regular isles and make his way back home from there before the Collector even noticed he was gone.

I bet King’s done it—I bet he’s already gone, he bolted for it while the Collector was looking for me.

Phoenix shook his head to clear it. “No,” he said out loud, “King wouldn’t leave without Eda and Lilith.”

Nothing’s stopping you, though…

“No,” Phoenix said more firmly, “I promised. I’m not leaving without—”

The bushes rustled ever so slightly, and Phoenix’s ears pricked up, moving up and down to pinpoint the noise.

Where… did…

A slitherbeast leapt out of the bushes, and Phoenix hit the dirt, rolling out of the way. He sprang back up to his feet, keeping his stance low.

“You’re far from home.”

Without the element of surprise, the beast paced in a circle, looking for an opening. Saliva dripped from its jaws, and it sniffed the air delicately.

Phoenix scooped up a thick stick, turning slowly to keep the slitherbeast in his line of sight. “You’re hungry,” he guessed, “The Collector’s been… well, collecting… all your possible prey. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have ventured out of the mountains, and you definitely wouldn’t have attacked an unfamiliar creature without provocation.”

It paced closer, and Phoenix swung, bringing the stick into its jaw. “I’m not dinner. Hunt something else.”

The slitherbeast yelped, scrambling away, but continued to pace a circle around Phoenix, panting. Phoenix glanced at the bracelet on his wrist. Would Collector actually come if he pulled it?

No. I can handle this.

The slitherbeast leapt again, this time turning its body midleap so that Phoenix’s retaliation swing glanced off of its side. A wall of fur slammed into him, sending him sprawling backwards. The slitherbeast pounced, and Phoenix had barely seconds to bring his feet up into its chest before it landed, pushing it up and over him. He scrambled back to his feet, looking for his stick and jamming it into the creature’s mouth before it could bite. Its jaws cracked straight through the wood, but its teeth scraped and screeched against the bracelet around Phoenix’s wrist, preventing it from biting his hand off.

Phoenix yanked his arm out of its mouth, but the pull tab snagged on the beast’s tooth, triggering the bracelet.

Fireworks shot out, one of them right into the slitherbeast’s mouth, and the others into the air. The slitherbeast shrieked, pawing at its mouth and whimpering. Smoke billowed out, but it still eyed Phoenix with that same dogged determination.

I’m the first living thing it’s seen in the last couple of days, Phoenix realized, It’s not going to give up, it’s too desperate.

Phoenix swung up into a tree, scrambling into the branches. It was too big to follow, hopefully it would—

The slitherbeast rammed its head into the tree, making the whole thing shake.

“Are you kidding me?! Fine! Knock yourself out, you—”

The trunk cracked up the middle at its next blow.

Great. Excellent, even.

Phoenix waited for it to ram into the tree again, and leapt out just as it did, landing squarely on its back. He wrapped his hands in its fur, yanking it to the side. “Just—” wham into a tree “—pass—” wham “—out!”

The slitherbeast dropped to its side, rolling onto its back. Phoenix let out a strangled yelp as all the air rushed out of his lungs with a whoosh. He clung to the beast tighter as it rolled over, shaking itself to dislodge him, then flopped on its back again. This time, Phoenix let go, wheezing for air. He scrambled backwards, hands clawing at the ground for something, anything to use as a weapon as the slitherbeast stalked towards him.

“HEY!” a familiar voice called, and a blue star landed between Phoenix and the beast. Collector crossed his arms. “Bad dog!”

“Get—away!” King yelled. A soundwave blasted out of his mouth, slamming into the slitherbeast and knocking it through the nearest tree. Collector held out his palm, and a crescent moon floated above it.

“Bye-bye!”

The moon shot out, slamming into the slitherbeast’s face. It dropped to the ground, a lifeless stuffed animal.

“WHOO! Got it!” Collector spun the star, kicking his feet over the edge. “Yeah!”

King hopped off of the star, rushing to Phoenix’s side. “Are you okay?”

“Just bruised,” Phoenix wheezed, “Thanks.” He glanced at the Collector. “Both of you.”

Collector put one foot out, stopping the star. “Yeah, I saved you! Again! You are very good at getting in danger. You know, King, you’re right, it kind of IS fun to save mortals who get in trouble. Anyway, should we play another round of hide and seek? This time I should hide.”

“Maybe—maybe we should go back to the archive house?” King suggested.

“Awwwwwwwwwwww, why?”

“Because we just had… a bit of an adventure.”

“But we go on adventures all the time!”

“We go on pretend adventures. Phoenix was actually in danger and could have gotten really hurt! After real adventures, we have to take a break. Right, Phoenix?”

Phoenix nodded. “ After serious missions, I always took a nap, or at least didn’t go back out in the field for a bit.”

“Wow. Being mortal sounds tiring. Okay, okay, we’ll go back.” The Collector’s star expanded. “Everyone on.”

Phoenix shuddered as the star rose into the air, pushing through the treetops. “This thing needs a harness.”

“Haha, are you afraid of heights?”

Phoenix gripped the edge of the star. “A little,” he squeaked.

The star tilted, then rushed forward with a whoosh, streaking towards the archive house and coming to a stop in front of the staircase and Odalia. Phoenix wobbled off the star, leaning against the stairs to balance himself.

“Hey, Mamadalia.”

Her lip curled. “Aren’t you a little old to be calling me ‘Mama’?”

“You’re saying that you’re not old enough to be my mother?”

King grabbed Phoenix’s hand while Odalia spluttered, leading him up the stairs. “Okay, that’s enough.”

Collector floated after them. “Whatcha doing? Where are we going?”

King tugged Phoenix back to the room with the tiny planet, pulling box of Band-Aids out from under his bed, and gingerly plastering them on all of the tiny scrapes from Phoenix’s fight. “Wow, you really got banged up.”

“Ehhhhhhhhhhh, I’ve had worse.”

King pulled up Phoenix’s sleeve to get at a scratch under a rip. “Hey, what happened to your arms? Have they been like this the whole time?”

“Oh.” Phoenix fidgeted with the bandage. “Belos. It’s… it’s fine, they’re healing on their own.”

King started to unwrap the cloth, and Phoenix batted his hand away. “Uh-uh, not a Band-Aid wound. Too messy. Here, look, right here.” He moved his hair out of his face, showing another little scratch on his forehead. “There’s one.”

King stood on his tiptoes to reach, plastering another Band-Aid on the wound. He tapped his own skull where bandages did their best to cover up a crack. “There. Now we’re boo-boo buddies.”

“Heh. Thanks.”

“Boo-boo buddies!” Collector exclaimed, “I want to be a boo-boo buddy! I want to do one!” He scooped up one of the bandages, removing the paper and pasting it on another scratch on Phoenix’s knee. He thrust another Band-Aid into Phoenix’s hands. “Okay, okay, now I get one!”

“Um…”

“You don’t… have a boo-boo?” King reminded him.

“Hrngh. I! Want! To Be! A boo-boo! Buddy!” Collector squinted at his arm, glaring viciously, and slowly, a scratch appeared, leaking inky blue blood that swirled with purple and glittered with starlight. “Ow!” His eyes bubbled up with tears. “Ow, ow, that’s… ow, I don’t like it, ow—”

Phoenix tore open the bandaid, carefully pasting it over the wound. “There. There, all better.”

“Now you’re a boo-boo buddy! Welcome to the club.”

Collector scrubbed at his eyes. “It hurts,” he whined, “It feels bad.”

“Uh-huh,” King agreed, “Doesn’t feel very nice.”

Collector squished Phoenix’s cheeks in his hands. “How are you not dead?!” he yelled, “You got like, a BILLION boo-boos, and you’re all soft and squishy and mortal!”

Phoenix shrugged. “You get used to it.”

Collector flopped backwards onto his bed. “I don’t want to get used to it,” he grumbled, “It feels horrible, and I hate it.” He rolled onto his stomach, kicking his feet. “Hey, Phoenix? Do you know any good stories?”

“Um… I know a lot of stories about… the golden guard before me and Belos and how they destroyed… you know what, come to think of it, those are not kids’ stories.”

“I don’t want a story about Phillip.”

“Yeah, me neither. Uhhh, let’s see… there was this one… I don’t know, legend? Fairy story? That they used to tell us before bed.”

“Us?” King echoed, “They?”

“Mmm.”

“Story,” Collector urged.

“Yeah. Right, story. Let’s see, how did it go… Once upon a time, there were two brothers, who loved each other to the sun and back. They did everything together, all their chores, their play, their walks... Then one day, the younger couldn’t find his older brother anywhere. He searched high and low. He asked the birds, ‘where has my brother gone?’ but the birds did not reply except to sing their song. He asked the boiling waters ‘where has my brother gone?’ but the sea only bubbled and hissed in reply.”

Collector snuggled into his blankets, watching Phoenix.

“Finally,” Phoenix continued, “the younger brother asked the isles themselves, ‘where has my brother gone?’ and the bones responded, ‘far in the forest, a witch with evil design has her in his grasp.’ The younger brother traveled to the witch’s home, but try as he might, he could never get past her traps. He cried out in frustration, and his tears attracted the attention of the stars. And the stars felt bad for him and gave him a single seed. ‘Plant this seed,’ the stars told him, ‘and surely, you will find your brother again. But do not speak to what grows a single word, or else your brother shall be lost to you forever.’ So the younger brother planted the seed, and out of the ground sprang a knight, clad in black armor and carrying a great sword.”

“Like the sky without stars?” Collector piped up.

“Like a sky without stars,” Phoenix agreed, “The brother didn’t say a word, only turned to go back to the witch’s home. Her first trap was a raging river that the brother couldn’t cross, but the knight in black armor dove in, walking through the river to the other side and lowering a bridge to the brother. And when the brother crossed the bridge, he saw that the river had washed away the black from the armor as if it had been soot, revealing armor of bronze. But the brother said nothing, not even a word of thanks, just as the stars had instructed.”

“Then what?”

“Well, then there was a thicket full of brambles surrounding the witch’s home. The brother couldn’t go into them without being scratched to death, but the knight waded through them, ignoring how they got into chinks in his armor and made him bleed, and he cut a path through for the brother. And when the brother got to the other side, he saw that the knight’s armor had been scrubbed of rust by the thicket, and was now silver. But he didn’t say a word to the knight, didn’t ask if he was hurt from the thicket, or even comment on the silver of his armor, just as the stars had instructed. Finally, they came close to the witch’s hut, when a ferocious dragon sprang out at them. The knight and the dragon fought for hours—”

“Hours?!” Collector interrupted.

“Yeah. Hours.”

“What did the brother do that whole time?!”

“He sat on a rock and watched, I guess.”

“That’s too long to fight a dragon!”

“Alright, alright, fine, the battle raged for fifteen minutes before the knight slew the dragon, is that better?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Glad you approve. Anyway, the brother saw that the fire of the dragon had molded into the armor, and the knight was clad in gleaming gold. Still, the brother said nothing to him, did not ask if he was burned, or say how beautiful his armor had become, just as the stars had instructed. The brother and his knight rushed into the witch’s home, and the knight quickly sliced the witch in two. The brother ran all over the house, but he could not find any sign of his brother, dead or alive. Enraged, he picked up the knight’s sword, and cut off the head of his faithful servant.”

“WHOA!” King protested, “What?!”

“Give me a second! Anyway, the knight fell to the ground, and from his armor, his brother sprang. ‘Finally,’ his brother said, ‘I am free.’”

“WHAT?!” Collector yelled.

“Do you want this story or not?”

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh. Keep going.”

“‘The witch cursed me into a seed, a curse that could only be broken if I slew her, and if you proved your devotion to getting me back, even if it meant staying silent and letting your actions speak for you.’ And so, the brothers returned home, and they lived happily ever after. The end.”

“Why did slicing his head off turn him back?!” Collector demanded, “That’s stupid! Why did he cut the knight’s head off, even though he did everything for him?! Why did being mean get him his brother back?! I think he should have never gotten to see his brother again after he sliced the knight’s head off!”

“It’s part of the story! He had to kill him!”

“Why couldn’t he talk to him?!”

“He had to prove—it’s just part of it, the brother had to go through trials, and the younger brother couldn’t say anything, and at the end, the witch and the knight… had… to…die…”

You have got to be kidding me.

Phoenix buried his face in a pillow. “Oh.”

“Phoenix?” King asked, “Buddy?”

“Ohhhhhhhh, my titan,” Phoenix groaned, “It’s a Phillip story. That’s a Phillip—urgh—the brothers—the witch is Evelyn, or maybe just magic—the golden knight—the golden guards—he kills the knight to get his brother back, the knight—it was all a—"

“Maybe you’re reading into it a little too much?” King suggested, “I mean, a seed from the stars?”

“Oh, no, that part’s totally real,” Collector piped up, “I’m the stars. I helped Phillip with the grimwalker recipe. You’re welcome.”

“What?!”

“He said he was going to make more players. And he did! And then he destroyed them. Which does not make very good playmates, you are much more fun alive.”

Phoenix got up, bouncing to the window. “Okay. Alright. Okay. I… need a moment.”

Odalia stood outside the door. “Well, wasn’t that an interesting little story.”

“I am not in the mood,” Phoenix snapped. He shoved her necklace back at her. “Take that, I don’t need you in my head right now.”

He stalked through the hallways, checking each window.

It was always him. Every second, it was always him, getting in my head.

There. The horn. It was a substantial drop, but not a deadly one. Phoenix leaned against the windowsill with a sigh.

Just don’t look down, and you’ll be fine.

“Phoenix?” King tapped his claws together, sitting on a star with Collector. “You okay?”

“Not really.”

“Where’d you hear that story, anyway?”

Phoenix twisted his hands around each other. “Some of the older kids. They heard it from the adults. Who I guess got it from some standard-issue imperial propaganda storybook.”

“What, older kids in… the coven?”

“No. In the orphanage where I grew up.”

“Oh. I… didn’t know.”

Phoenix shrugged. “A lot of people died in Belos’ crusade against wild magic. From both sides. There was… an imperial orphanage for kids whose parents died in the war. Turns out, I didn’t have parents at all, but I didn’t know that at the time.” He chuckled dully. “Now I’m wondering if the whole thing was made up just so Belos could keep me in one place and feed me stories about being a good little soldier who didn’t complain. Is that conceited?”

Collector hugged his knees to his chest. “What happened to the orphanage?”

“It burned down just before I joined the coven.”

King’s eyes widened. “Oh. That’s… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Phoenix moved away from the window. “When I was there, I was just a powerless kid that no one else wanted. Even they didn’t want me, but they had to keep me. I was glad to leave it behind.”

Collector jumped off the star, wrapping his arms around Phoenix’s neck and his legs around his waist in a piggyback hug. “That’s stupid. They were stupid. I want to keep you, even if you don’t have powers like me and King. We’re going to be friends forever and ever until the sun collapses into a black hole and swallows us all.”

Phoenix’s sore muscles and ribs protested at the weight, but he just walked back towards the bedroom, clasping his hands behind his back to support the Collector. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome! Your story was. Okay. I didn’t like the ending, though.”

“I’m thinking I don’t like it so much, either.” Phoenix let him down. “I’m taking a walk.”

“Don’t stay up too late. We have lots more adventures planned for tomorrow.”

“Right. Good night.”

King stopped just before he followed the Collector to bed. “Phoenix? What happened to everyone else? At your orphanage?”

“I… don’t know. Once I joined the coven, they told me not to look back. And I didn’t.”

“Huh. Okay. Good night.”

“Night, boo-boo buddy.”

Phoenix trotted back down the stairs, leaning against the wall with a sigh.

I want to keep you.

Phoenix patted his face. “No,” he said firmly, “You are not feeling bad about running from the crazy kid who is keeping you hostage and turning people into puppets. Not allowed. Besides, we need to check in on the others. And let them know we’re alright. And where Jason is, they are probably frantic about him right now. You cannot start feeling bad about leaving. He’s unpredictable and every day here is a risk you get turned into a puppet. Or worse.”

He destroyed Belos in an instant without any remorse.

What will he do to you if he finds out what you’re planning?

“We’re getting out of here,” Phoenix said out loud.

No matter what.

[suckerfordr3]

Priorities - II

Your week progresses as normal, you work a little glad you’re still allowed to work remotely so you can spend as much time as you want with your boy. Luke is a low maintenance kid he eats everything without complaining, he loves watching animated movies with you and doesn’t create much of a mess. Everyone told you raising a kid alone would be hard but you were lucky cause you had a fun kid. You didn’t like thinking it but you were glad his dad wasn’t in the picture. Luke was yours and you wouldn’t share him with anyone who didn’t want him.

2020 was hard, Luke was just one when the pandemic hit, the time in his life where he was supposed to start socialising with kids his age, play in parks and do things that one year olds do but he didn’t get the chance. He got something better he got you, you dotted on the boy, being stuck at home and being a night owl meant that you spent every one of his waking moments playing with him and working when he slept. You built forts, read to him, danced wildly and sang inappropriate songs to him, even built him a teepee for a reading nook for him to look over his picture books. You kept him entertained, when you realised that maybe this wasn’t a good precedent you weened him off having all of your attention all the time, turns out that it was you who had the attachment issues, your kid was alright being left alone whilst you worked as long as he had something to do.

Your favourite moments with him were when he had barely started speaking. Like most kids he learnt the word momma first, quickly followed by the word no. You’d seat him on his chair and complain dramatically about work and he’d give his remarks at the appropriate time rebuking your bosses behaviour with a dramatic ‘nooooo’ and cheer ‘momma’ when you’d tell him how badass you were in a meeting. You knew he didn’t fully understand what you were saying and had learnt to give appropriate responses to your tone but you still thought your kid was a genius.

The first few months of his life were hard on you, suffering through baby blues and being a single first time mom was more than overwhelming but you soldiered on. You knew that it would be hard and baby Luke was quite the challenge but the more Luke’s personality showed through the more your conviction grew - you would give your little guy the best life you could manage.

Ethan helped out a lot, he picked up the slack if things got too busy and even encouraged you to go out when he found you drowning. He was your best friend, before the pandemic you’d consider him an okay one but the last year and a half had brought you close. Ethan was the only one you trusted your kid with without having to worry even a little.

It’s almost a week to the day after you met Daniel when you hear a buzz from your intercom. There’s a delivery for you, you ponder as to what it could be, you don’t remember ordering anything. You open the door when you hear the knock and are shocked when you see a man hiding behind a bouquet of sunflowers. “Are you sure you’ve got the right apartment?” You ask the man as he hands you the flowers. “Yes ma’am” he says smiling, “Have a nice day!” And with that he makes his departure , leaving behind a mystery for you to decipher.

You take in the flowers and give it a whiff, it smelt like sunflowers but whilst the fragrance was pleasant you were more taken to its beauty. Sunflowers made you happy, aside from the obvious sun motif you were obsessed with Van Gogh and his painting of the sunflowers was a particular favourite hanging above your dining table.

You found yourself smiling at the sunflowers wondering who it came from when you notice a card attached to the bouquet. You open it, it reads in a scrawny handwriting ‘I don’t mean to be creepy, but the owner of the sandwich place gave me your address (apparently we made quite a cute couple). I couldn’t get you out of my mind and were wondering if you’d let me make you dinner? I have a bottle of white that needs an amateur pallet to be properly enjoyed if that is more tempting than the idea of me cooking.’

The card isn’t signed but you turn it around to see a phone number attached to it. You can’t help but smile as you finish reading. You want to call the number immediately to tell Daniel that you’d love to have dinner with him but then you hear a loud cry from Luke who’d been unusually quiet today. You drop the card from your hand and run into his room in a hurry. Luke is laying on his bed sniffling, the sight is heartbreaking. You crawl into his tiny bed with him and you feel it immediately, he’s running a fever. You go into mom mode immediately, taking his temperature, feeding him soup, coaxing him to take his medicine, cuddling him when he’s feeling especially poorly and clingy. It’s almost night when you wander back into your living room and notice the bouquet and the card. It’s been almost 9 hours since you’d received it. The time for dinner long passed.

You feel like crap when you read the message again. In another life you’d already be at Daniel’s, flirting with him, drinking wine and ending the night tangled in bed. But you had other priorities. You felt ashamed at the thought of wanting to leave your sick child for a hedonistic tryst with a man you barely knew. The guilt doubled over when you realised you were also being impolite aside from being a terrible mum. You mustered your courage and decided to call the number deciding that it was already too late to send a text, for the sake of social niceties you should at least apologise to the man over a call.

The phone rang, the dial tone ringed in your ears thrice when you heard an unsure hello.

“Hi… Daniel… it’s y/n”

“Hey” he said sounding slightly more jovial, “I wasn’t really sure you’d call. I’m sorry if I overstepped some boundaries..”

“No no not at all” you interrupted his apology, you continued “actually I was kind of calling to apologise, something came up but if we could reschedule dinner, I’d really like to see you again”

“Yah?” He asks sounding more like himself now “so you don’t think the flowers were creepy?”

“No not at all.. well a little I’m not going to lie”you say with a little laugh “shelocking your way to my address was a little alarming but the note and the flowers were very charming”

“I’m glad you thought so Mom told me to make to make a grand gesture if I wanted to capture your interest and flowers seemed like the right call”

“You told your mom about me?” Your heart soaring a little at the thought.

“Yah it’s a little embarrassing to admit but I’m a big old mamma’s boy” You laugh at the comment.

“Well the flowers were beautiful, good call on the sunflowers, it’s definitely a favourite”

You talk for a little while, glad to hear each others voices when you were both quite sure you’d never hear from one another again. He tells you about his week, how he’s spent most of it working out, attending meetings and eating bland chicken whilst dreaming of that jus with every bite, you tell him about the report you’ve been writing and how you’ve recently started watching the Office again. The conversation is mostly mundane run-of-the-mill life things, like two friend catching up after not talking for a week or so. The irony lies in the fact that aside from the surface the two of you really don’t know anything about one other. You don’t like deliberately hiding Luke from the conversation but you know there’s no need to mention anything to a boy you’ve met only once. At the same time only a few kilometres away Daniel has the same thought except he feels guilty about hiding his career from y/n. Usually he’s upfront about it, In fact it’s helped him land more woman than he’d care to admit but some part of his brain doesn’t want to scare her off. The conversation veers off to music you tell him how you have a shame playlist of country music that you reserve for when you drive alone. Daniel let’s out a rather high pitched ‘seriously?’ followed by a clearing of his throat when he find out that you listen to country cause apparently European prats turn their noses at it.

He’s very seriously asking you to wear your country music badge with pride and not succumb to peer pressure when an alarm goes off in a distance reminding you that you have to check Luke’s temperature again you only then realise that you’d been on call for almost two hours.

“I have to go” you mutter to him the disappointment apparent in your voice.

“Oh” he says his voice dropping several octaves from his own disappointment. There’s silence for a bit, a pregnant pause for the first time in the conversation. Daniel breaks it first. “Meet me for lunch tomorrow” he says, not as a question but more of a command. He then adds a please in a slightly whiny tone as if realising that he shouldn’t pressure you, it kind of reminds you of how Luke gets when he wants something.

“I’m not sure, I have things to do” you say trying to come up with an excuse, what if Luke’s fever doesn’t break by then. You couldn’t leave him.

“Y/n I really want to see you, so here’s what I’m going to do, I’ll drive by your place at 1 and wait for you for fifteen minutes if by then you come down then we’ll go out to grab lunch. If you don’t I’ll respect your decision. This isn’t an ultimatum, I’ll ask you again till you make it clear you don’t want to see me. This isn’t a one way thing right? You want to see me?” He says nervously.

“I do, trust me, I want you Daniel” you say simply reassuring him, he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Okay.” You say.

“Okay?” He asks.

“Okay, you should come by, but don’t get your hopes up in case I can’t figure my schedule out. If I don’t show up I’ll find some way to make it up to you that’ll make you a very very happy as an apology” you say trying to bring some levity into the conversation. It has the desired effect. Daniel let out a laugh.

You say your goodbyes, Daniel telling you to have pleasant dreams of him tonight and you head inside to check on Luke. His temperature is running lower, but you don’t want to take a chance, you cradle him in your arms carefully so as to not wake him and take him to your bedroom. He clings to you as he sleeps. You place a kiss on his forehead and run your hands through his hair knowing that it comforts him.

Before you head off to sleep you send multiple texts to Ethan.

911 need mom advice

Luke sick but doing better

Daniel called

come over first thing tomorrow

Love you

Also bring coffee

Link for part 3

Link for part 1

[sugar-quilled]

when stars align

a/n: this is fluff wrapped in unnecessary plot. my bad.

summary: star gazing date

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

pronouns: she/her

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spring came very suddenly this year. Many students had feared that there wouldn't be sunny weather to look forward to after exams ended, but the clouds parted on the last day, and there was a great hurrying to the castle grounds and enjoy a well deserved break. Quite a few students had taken to soaring around the Quidditch pitch, throwing around a Quaffle and chatting about summer plans. As you made your way out to the courtyard, absolutely determined to forget about the entirety of your Astrology exam, a very handsome owl came swooping down from a tree nearby to land on your shoulder. You quickly accepted the very small square of parchment clamped in its beak, and recognized it as Draco's eagle owl. You smiled at the bird, gave it a quick pet on the head, and turned the parchment piece around. In very tidy writing, it read:

Meet me at the courtyard? 8 pm. Send an answer back - Draco

"Date night?" a voice behind you said. You swung around to see Daphne Evergreen's eyes peering over your unoccupied shoulder and grinned.

"Seems like you know the answer to that question already, Daph."

"Sure do. Will you let me do your hair? I saw a Ravenclaw with a really beautiful half up half down kind of look and it'll really be gorgeous on you. Pity I could never pull it off."

"Don't lie to yourself," you said, swinging your bag off your shoulder, "bangs do grow out you know. And yes, absolutely." The owl readjusted its footing and tugged on your hair, as if telling you that it didn't have all day to listen to two girls talk. You walked quickly off the path, said goodbye to Daphne with the promise of meeting her in the dormitory in a few minutes, and dug around your school bag for a quill and ink. Unscrewing the bottle, you sat down on the grass and wrote back,

Answer is yes, pretty boy.

Draco's owl immediately snatched the parchment out of your hand, and took off towards the owlery.

time skip to 7:50

"Daphne you're brushing too hard," you muttered as she tugged forcefully on your hair. You two had been planning your outfit for about 4 hours now, taking a 30 minute break at 5 to shovel down perhaps the fastest dinner you had ever eaten and running right back up to the dormitory.

"I've never ever seen your hair with this many knots. Have you been crawling around some underbrush? There's a twig in here. How could you have possibly gotten a twig in your hair?"

"I don't know? Maybe it was Draco's ow- OW! Daphne, please, my head's attached to the other end of those strands! Couldn't you just use some Sleekeazy's? There should be a bottle in my drawer."

"NO! It'll ruin your natural waves!" she cried, frantic. "It's 7:52 already! You're due in 8 minutes! And we've still got earrings to choose and you didn't say which shoes yet!"

"I'll do without earrings! And I thought I said the oxfords were fine!" you answered, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as Daphne tugged harder still.

"Hang on, just give me one second, I'm nearly there, you've just got this big lump that I've been trying to get through this past half hour."

With the hardest tug yet, Daphne undid the knot, pulling out quite a few hairs in the process, and let out a very tired cheer. You stood up straight and turned back at her.

"Okay, well you've got your top," she said, dropping the brush and moving forward to tuck the black scoop neck into your jeans, "jeans, necklace looks fine, hair looks gorgeous, and do you want to borrow my purse? It'll fit th-"

"Daphne I'm just going to the courtyard! What do I need a bloody purse for?" You half-yelled, massaging a very sore spot on the back of your head.

"You're right, you're right," Daphne said as you stepped into your oxfords, "well then off you go! It's 7:56, you've got plenty of time. Tell me all about it when you get back!"

"Yes, of course. Bye, Daphne!" You shouted, already half-way out the door.

The trip out to the courtyard seemingly took less than a minute, but in your hurried state, there was no way you counted the seconds properly. It was almost completely empty, with only two or three pairs of students still playing gobstones. You spotted Draco, and immediately felt a rosy color creep over your cheeks.

Draco was wearing a white button down and some neatly pressed black pants, an attire that looked suspiciously like his school uniform without a cloak. No complaints were had though, as he looked impossibly handsome.

A large, grayish green picnic blanket had been set down on the floor. Several puffy pillows had been layered down on top of it, alongside a very big, very fluffy blanket.

He turned around, a very expensive looking bouquet of flowers in hand, and gave you a quick smile before striding towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

You blushed and placed a kiss below his jawline before entwining your hand in his. He gestured towards the blanket—"after you, dear"—and the two of you sat down.

"This set up looks lovely, Draco" you said, readjusting to face him.

"I'm glad you're impressed by my effort" he replied, handing you the bouquet. It was a darling little thing of daisies, baby's breath, and lavender. Pixie dust sparkled on each flower. "I'm sure you want to know what I have planned for today?"

You leaned closer to him, and answered mockingly, "What is it dear Draco? Do tell me!"

"Star gazing."

You leaned back and and noticed a small telescope placed beside a pillow to your right. Knowing his absolute disdain for Astrology, you smiled. "Why the sudden change in interest?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to be romantic. And anyways, stars are pretty when they aren't for analyzing. Come here, the sun's about to set." He pulled you fully onto his lap, facing away from him, and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

The sky was indeed dimming, brilliant strokes of orange turned pink, then purple, and finally gave way to an inky night sky. You had settled very comfortably, head against his chest, as his chin rested on the top of your head. The big blanket covered you both, and as you sat up, reaching towards the telescope to get a closer look at what seemed to be Scorpius, a very sharp "Malfoy!" startled the both of you. Professor McGonagall was storming towards you.

"What do you two think you're doing? It's nearly a quarter past ten and I feel the need to remind you that that is past your curfew. 5 points from Slytherin, and you best both be hurrying back to your dormitories."

Completely abandoning the picnic things and apologizing briefly to McGonagall, you two ran back towards the Slytherin common room, slowing only when you reached a familiar stone wall.

"Serpentine," you muttered to the wall, which then rumbled and shifted so that a corridor that lead to the common room appeared. As you walked down the passage, you thanked Draco for the flowers and date.

"It did get cut short, but it was very enjoyable. Thank you for planning it." You gave him a smile, a peck on the cheek, and made to turn for the girls' dormitories, but Draco grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards the boys'.

"Dray, what are you doing?" You hissed, "Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise are probably sleeping by now."

Draco looked back at you with a signature smirk and continued to drag you up the stairs, leaving you with no choice but to follow.

He opened the door to his dormitory to show it completely empty.

"They've got detention today. Convenient."

"Draco! You gave them detention?"

"Well, I didn't really give them detention, I just gave them the opportunity to be given det-"

"Alright, alright," you muttered, coming to the conclusion that one nights' worth of detention for the boys couldn't be that bad. You drew open the curtains next to Draco's bed, revealing a tall, arched window and the starry night sky, framed like a painting behind the glass.

"This view is incredible," you breathed, snuggling into Draco's bed, which smelt like cologne and mint, resting your head against the headboard, and watching Draco rest himself beside you and lay his head on your chest. He turned so that you both were facing the window, and then wrapped his arms securely around you. One hand tangled in his hair, the other resting on his lower back, you turned to look at the stars with him.

Each was dotted with precision into the inky background, looking nothing like a nature of the universe and everything like a craftsman's work of art. You'd heard so many people marvel at those that shone brighter, more captivating to the eye, but to you, it was the small little specks that were worth more. They filled the gaps that the larger ones couldn't, and made the skies irregular and breathtakingly beautiful. Stars move, so that no night sky is ever the same as the previous, and maybe it was that Draco was by your side, but no combination of stars had ever presented such a beautiful picture before.

"Draco, you see those four stars? How they're in a line?"

Draco looked up sleepily at the window, muttering "pretty" before slumping down again.

"Prettier than me?" You laughed, pushing a few strands of hair off his forehead.

"Nothing's prettier than you, baby, you know that." He muttered drowsily, rolling onto his back so that he could look straight up at you.

You leaned over and brushed the tip of your nose against his. He hummed softly in response and wrapped two arms around your neck, bringing you into a kiss.

"I love you," you whispered after breaking away, shifting yourself out from under Draco so that you two were now eye to eye.

He pulled you onto his chest. "I love you too baby. And I'll get you another bouquet tomorrow since todays' is probably wilting as we speak."

You giggled softly, and with the promise of, you both promptly fell asleep.

pov switch

When Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise entered their dormitory after two hours worth of scrubbing the floor, they found Draco entwined with a certain girl, her hand in his hair, his wrapping her close and snug against his chest. The curtains next to Draco's bed were still drawn open, so that the uncountable stars winked down at the couple. The boys knew better than to wake them up, so Goyle drew the drapes around the four poster closed, and they headed off to bed.

[tortillastar]

An Epilogue Nobody Asked For

As my reason would have it, the end of If We Were Villains was perfectly imperfect. It offers a sliver of hope, but leaves the mesmeric quality of flawed, incomplete love. Instead, I blame my deranged imagination.  I suppose I'm simply a hopeless chaser of happy endings at heart.

He left Meredith’s apartment before she returned, leaving a note on the kitchen table that he’d found work on the west coast and hoped to stay in touch. He wouldn’t fool her, but didn’t have the heart to tell her he’d once again chosen him.

His first stop was the San Juan islands, meandering down the crumbly coast, drowning in reminisces and only half-heartedly looking for clues, knowing somehow he wouldn’t find anything. For a few years, he wandered the country with a traveling Shakespeare company. The director, all too used to drug addicts and drunk drivers, slid his gaze right past the felony on his file to the Dellecher certificate, and hired him. At this point, he’d placidly accepted that his love affair with the bard would last a lifetime. He asked around at each stop, almost left behind on numerous occasions for the aimless detours he took, to coasts, lakes, boathouses. There was no real method to the search, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, with no clues to go on but rumpled memories and a scrawled note. 

He’d taken to carrying it in his pocket, reading and rereading until feathered creases bore into the paper and he’d learned the words by heart. He thought, naively, not quite able to help himself, that fate would lead him.

A colleague brought him the poem, “from a street poet on the corner of 54th street,” he said, sliding it across the elbow-greased bar table. 

The unconscious ba-dum, the rhythmic end rhymes, and clipped e’s were enough to intrigue him.

He sat in a sunken folding chair with a typewriter balanced on his knees. A sign by his feet in loopy cursive from another time.  “Poems to go -- your subject, your price.” His hair hung to the shoulders, a stubble dotted his chin, and he wore too-thick, owl-like glasses, but it was unmistakably him.

“A poem about being under water, please.” he said, handing over a $5 bill.

James reached out to take the note, pausing. His eyes traveled up his palm, recognizing, first his hand, then sleeve, then shoulder, and finally meeting his gaze. His lips parted, in shock or in speech he never found out. Oliver swung his fist and landed a sound punch to James’ companion’s nose.

They sat shoulder to shoulder on the rocky shore of Lake Washington, James with a splint on his nose, a bottle of vodka between them.

“I couldn’t do it anymore.” Throaty words muddled by blood-filled sinuses. “The only way to go on...and I thought I had to,” He threw a furtive glance at Oliver, who stared obstinately forward, “was to forget.”

“It was the only way to leave no strings attached.” He swallowed. 

“I changed my name to Erwin Olaf, paid some guy on the border to fake the docum...” A rumble of laughter tickled Oliver's lungs, and burst out in spite of himself.

“What?” 

“Erwin Olaf?” He turned towards James, for the first time since they’d sat down, scrutinizing his face with mirth in his blue eyes. “You don’t look like an Erwin.”

The bewildered look upon James’ face morphed slowly, muscle by muscle into a tentative smile.

He’d taken up street poetry -- “theater’s a small world” -- and vagabonded, never staying in one place for too long lest he be recognized, or become attached. Waiting. 

With the bottle drained and no more left to say, he turned to Oliver, expecting, waiting, hoping for some reaction. 

“I want so badly to hate you.” Oliver bit out finally, voice torn and ragged. His jaw was a hard line, knuckles bone-white, nails digging bloody crescents into his palm. “But I can’t.” 

He turned sharply, giving James the first good look at his face since he’d begun his rambling tale. There was a wild look in his eyes, red-rimmed and sunken, wearied by years of kindling dying hopes.

James reached out a hand and wiped a stray tear from his blotched cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t ghost again.” Said Oliver, unable to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“I won’t.” James grabbed his hand, and tentatively twined their fingers together.

“Cross your heart?” The question hung, pathetically childish.

“Hope to die.”

Their lips met, soft, tentative, unsure, like teenagers kissing for the first time. There was none of the frenetic energy of their first, when each had sought to transmit a thousand unspoken words with a single kiss. They lingered, dangerously close to the precipice, believing, if only in that moment, the promise would hold.

They crammed their life in a boxy three-wheeled RV and took to the road. James wrote poetry, the occasional essay, and perhaps a novel or two, under the pen name A.J. Finn - Erwin Olaf simply would not do. Shades of the bard flitted between the stanzas, iambic pentameter beat between the pages.

Oliver took up intermittent acting gigs, a dead soldier, a shadow in the crowd, a sidekick with the occasional punchline. A waste, Gwendolyn would say, but he’d learned his lesson, and kept the characters he played at arm’s length -- convincing enough, but unexceptional.

They made few impressions, held few attachments, and were content.

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet uglies, sternclay 60 sfw? OwO

Here you go!

60 Sterncly SFW. we’re both on a reality show (like the queer bachelor) where we’re told to be friends but the first time we met, you were incredibly rude and judgmental and I don’t know if I can do this for the damn cameras

“So, Barclay, now that we’re a few days in, what’s your impression of the other contestants?”

“They, uh, they all seem like great guys. We come from a lot of different backgrounds, so that’s kind of interesting to be around but, uh, I live in a place that’s like a big, chosen family, so being in a house with a bunch of types of personalities is kinda, uh, homey.”

“There’s no one you think you’ll struggle with?”

“Uh. Well. I, uh, I don’t like Joseph too much. He came in and he’s so, like, phony from all the years in the FBI. It’s like he’s trying to be polite and charming but really he thinks we’re all idiots for being here. Which, like, buddy, last I checked you signed up for this the same as the rest of us.”

------------------------------------------------------

“Joseph, any worries about the other contestants?”

“No. I mean, we’re competitors on a dating show, not enemies. I think we’re all trying to show Vincent the best versions of ourselves.”

“There’s no one you’ve had conflicts with?”

“........I, um, Barclay and I got into a small argument earlier about the house rules. But I’m sure if we both stick around long enough we’ll come to an understanding.”

----------------------------------------------------

“Gentlemen, this cannot continue.” Ned, the producer, sits on the couch across from them. Barclay glares at Joseph, but the other man keeps a cool demeanor. Great, he’s making Barclay look like the big, angry mountain even off camera.

“I thought reality shows needed conflict to thrive.” Joseph cocks an eyebrow.

“They do, but about big things, like love and rivalry. Not how to properly load a dishwasher.”

“I’m just trying to be efficient.”

“My way is perfectly fine.” Barclay snaps, “jesus, I worked in kitchens for years, I know how to get clean plates.”

“That doesn’t make it optimal.”

“Do you have to be right about everything?”

“Gentlemen, you recall we have a housekeeping staff, right?”

“It doesn’t matter” Barclay doesn’t take his eyes off Ned, “we’re supposed to all get along, not all try and prove we’re the smartest guy in the room.”

“See, this is your problem, you need everyone to like you, to see you like a big brother, but you’re missing the fact that at least three of them have decided your gentle giant persona is a threat and they’re trying to oust you.”

“It’s not a persona, it’s just how I am. We aren’t all government shams disguised as men.”

Joseph’s facade cracks for a moment, blue eyes trying to light Barclay on fire.

“Enough.” Ned shakes his head, “you may despise each other as much as you please behind the scenes. In front of the cameras, please try to act as if you’re not ten seconds away from coming to blows. Agreed?”

They trade a final, furious look.

“Agreed.”

------------------------------------------------------

They’re a little over three weeks in; Vincent is still doing lots and lots of short, individual dates between the group outings, so the contestants have ample time to hang around the house and get on each others nerves.

Case in point: Joseph was right when he warned Barclay that others saw him as a threat. Chad, Alex, Nico, and Rich have all decided to go after him. Just this morning he’s been told he’s not man enough for Vincent (he shooed a wolf spider out of the kitchen with a broom instead of squishing it), too girly (he offered to make cupcakes if people wanted), and too big (who'd want to fuck a six foot tall puppy).

His mood is not helped by Joseph chatting away on the couch about his former job with the FBI. Barclay swears it’s all the asshole knows how to talk about. Maybe it’s time for Barclay to play a game of his own.

“Hey, Joseph.”

The other man turns, black hair perfectly slicked back like he thinks he’s some kind of movie star.

“I bet you ten bucks you can’t make it until eight tonight without talking about your job.”

The other contestants in the room snicker, several even giving Barclay a thumbs up.

Joseph adjusts his shirt sleeves, “You’re on.”

Ten hours later, Barclay is forced to get his wallet. The other man never mentioned the FBI once. In fact, he did Barclay an even bigger favor; he didn’t talk at all.

He finds the agent sitting on the back steps leading into the garden. Stays standing as he holds out the cash, “you win fair and square.”

Joseph looks at the money, then looks away, “I did it to show I could, not for the bet.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to go, uh, quite so hard on the silence thing.”

“I didn’t mean to. But, um, every time I was going to open my mouth, I realized it was somehow related to work. So I kept quiet.” He sighs, stretches out his legs. He’s in slacks, because of course he is, “I must have been so tedious to listen to, no wonder I was driving you up the wall.”

“Joseph-”

“I really am married to my career. I guess it’s not surprising my last chance for love is on a T.V show.”

“Hey, I get it.” Barclay sits down next to him, “when I was first working in commercial kitchens my hours were crazy; I barely saw my apartment, my friends, my boyfriend who pretty quickly became my ex. But it was what I needed to do to build the career I wanted for myself. To do what I loved.”

Only the crickets and the distant waves reply. Then, “You said you were a private chef now, right? Along with writing cookbooks?”

“Yeah. Kinda surprised you remembered.”

“Listening is a major skill in my profession. Besides, it’s polite to pay attention to what people tell you.”

“What’s your job now? You only ever talk about the FBI stuff?”

“Paranormal investigation. I never bring it up because people assume I’m out chasing Bigfoot with a shaky-cam or trying to communicate with haunted dolls.”

“So...what is it instead?”

“Helping people figure out they’re homes aren’t haunted or the monster on their property is just some owls. I like the challenge of solving the mystery, and I like helping people feel safe in they’re homes.”

Loud voices form inside; the caterers must have refilled the bar. He doesn’t really want to go in. It’s too nice out here.

“You wanna hear about the restaurant my coworkers swore was haunted?”

Joseph perks up, turning to face him, “Yes, please.”

-----------------------------------------------------

He’d been really looking forward to beach day. Six guys are already gone, and Vincent has taken his fleet of suitors to the sunny San Diego shores. Barclay is dismayed to find all but three of the other guys have waxed their chests. Joseph hasn’t, but his happy trail is nothing compared to fucking black forest on Barclays torso. Nico’s gotten half the guys to call Barclay “bigfoot.”It makes him feel like he’s back in high school P.E freshman year, and his body image is rapidly sliding into that of a shy fourteen year old.

“Barclay!” Joseph comes jogging out of the surf towards the towels they lay down side by side when they arrived, “you should come in, it’s really the perfect weather for swimming.” He drops onto his towel, black hair a bit mussed. The swim-shorts that he thought were blue with green spots turn out to have not dots, but tiny UFOs on them.

“I, uh, I’m good. I, uh, I burn easily and I don’t think anyone wants to rub sunscreen on my hairy back.”

“Hey, Bigfoot, what’s wrong? Scared of what’ll happen if the cameras get a load of your gut?”

Barclay growls, stares at his toes. Joseph tracks Nico as he finishes jogging by. Then he calmly picks up a frisbee, aims a throw, and knocks his snapback off his head. He’s sitting down before the other man can work out who threw it. Barclay chuckles, but doesn’t get up.

“Bigfoot’s my favorite cryptid.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“And who gives a shit if you have a stomach.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re cut.”

Joseph grabs his sunglasses, “because I like that for my body. I happen to like yours just as much. Um I, I mean, it seems like Vincent likes it.” He tips his head towards the Bachelor, who gives them both a long once-over.

“...Will you do my back?”

“Of course, big guy.” The nickname sounds so right on his tongue it makes Barclay want to set his head in his lap and ask him to pet it.

It’s late afternoon when Ned herds them all onto a boat which promptly steers towards some cliffs. Joseph stays close to Barclay, pleasant expression noticeably tightening the closer they get to the rocks.

“I’ve been dreading this. Cliff diving is not something I’d pick to do on my own.”

“Heights?”

He shakes his head, “Deep water. I know it’s not rational, and I even checked to be sure there hadn’t been large shark sightings in the area, but I can never shake the feeling there’s something waiting just out of sight, ready to surge up and eat me.”

They all climb up together, Vincent staying on the boat to watch them jump (this is technically a friendly competition to show off how brave they are). As they’re turns get closer, Barclay sees Joseph doing deep breathing exercises.

They hit the edge. The agent freezes.

“Shit. I don’t think I can do this.”

“C’mon, where’s my daring special agent?”

Joseph still doesn’t move.

“You, uh, you wanna jump together? Maybe the megaladon or whatever will eat me instead.”

“Megalodons are extinct; we’d know if they weren’t, same as we know Whale Sharks aren’t.”

“They you are.” Barclay murmurs, smiling.

Joseph manages a smile back, “On three?”

“Yep. One, two” he grabs Joseph’s hand “three”

The water rises to swallow them with terrifying speed, but nothing is waiting for them except one very startled fish. They surface together, Joseph laughing triumphantly, hair plaster to his head and sun shining in his ocean eyes.

If Vincent doesn’t pick him, he’s out of his mind.

--------------------------------------------------------

“Ohmylord, we have to play this.” Joseph cannot believe his luck; he figured the barcade group date would mean a lot of solo time, but here’s his favorite game in the whole wide world.

“Monster Hunt?” Barclay laughs as he lets himself be lovingly shoved down into the seat of a cut-out Jeep, “very on brand.”

“They had this at the bowling alley near my house. I’d play when my parents had league night but couldn't get a sitter. I never could beat the Mothman level without a player two.”

He doesn’t have that problem tonight, even with Barclay distractingly delighted and handsome in the seat beside him. After that, they make it their mission to find every two-player game in the thrum of flashing colors and tinny music. He finds they both like the Bowser Bourbon Smash, and somewhere around their fourth, heated game of air hockey they each polish of one too many of them to stay upright without the support of a game, a helpful show staff member, or each other.

When they get back to the house (their fellow contestants all in a similar state to themselves) they manage to make it to Joseph’s room before collapsing into a giggling heap on the bed.

“That, hic, that was fun. Games are, hic, fun.” Barclay blinks at him, “what’re you laughing, hic, at.”

“You, you got the hiccups. S’funny because you’re so big, like, like watching a, a pitbull with a, um, a” he makes a squeezing motion that his sober self would recognize as “squeaky toy.”

“M’not big” Barclay pouts, “I, hic, maybe everyone else is, hic, just small. Ever think of th--hic--at.”

“S’not a bad thing.” Joseph shifts so they’re facing each other, “like how big you are. Makes you sexy.”

Barclay blushes, “you’re, hic, one to, to talk. You’re hot, so, hic, so fucking out. Got, got those eyes. That, hic, that face” He touches Joseph’s cheek, “love your face.”

“Love yours too.” Joseph says, stroking his beard. Then they’re moving in inelegant tandem, grabbing at each others shoulders and faces as their mouths find each other. Barclay is so warm, whimpering when Joseph rolls him on top, nipping his lips and pawing at him like a puppy hoping for a treat. Joseph is going to hold him close and let him have it.

A clatter from below, one of the other men knocking something over in the kitchen, breaks the spell.

“Wait, wait” Joseph reluctantly slides his hands of Barclays ass, “we, drunk, we’re drunk, too drunk.”

Barclay blinks down at him, pouting a little even as he groans “fuck, you’re, you’re right. Wanna, gotta remember this. Don’t wanna” he yawns, “regret it.” The instant he flops onto his back Joseph climbs into his arms and falls asleep to the slow rhythm of his breathing.

-----------------------------------------------

After that night, they agree to be more careful; they’re here for Vincent, to see if one of them is his true love. That’s what the contract they signed says.

“More careful” turns out to mean watching their alcohol intake around each other and only touching platonically (including falling asleep on the couch together. They wake up to cameras recording their nap. Barclay isn’t sure what Joseph threatens Ned with, but the footage never sees the light of day).

But unless they’re on a solo date with Vincent, they’re by each others side. Barclay teaches Joseph dominoes and how to make biscuits. Joseph introduces him to terrible old horror movies that they watch on his laptop and compliments his cooking every chance he gets.

They must be doing something right, because they move to the next round week after week, Vincent clearly enamored with both of them. Barclay certainly understands the feeling. Just not for the person who he’s supposed to.

“Joseph? If, uh, if neither of us win, what are you gonna do after this.”

“Go back to work. Maybe pitch my book about U.S cryptids.” Joseph’s smile goes shy for a moment before recovering, “but I wouldn’t worry, big guy; I think you’re the front runner for sure.”

Barclay knows for a fact that Joseph is a fan favorite and the suitor most people think will win. Which is why, when Vincent selects his final four, he’s not surprised Joseph gets the first rose. Then everyone but Barclay is holding one and Vincent is touching his shoulder.

“Barclay, please don’t take this as a sign I’m not deeply fond of you. This wasn’t an easy choice but I, well, I feel like your heart may not be in this anymore.”

He takes Vincent’s hand and squeezes it, “It’s okay. It was wonderful just to get to know you. All of you.” He looks at the final four, at Joseph’s calm, polite expression. He meets blue eyes as he says, “I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

With that he turns, all too aware of the cameras tracking his exit, his face, how he’ll have to do a final interview and not reveal that he’ll hate Vincent forever but not blame him in the slightest if he marries Joseph.

“Wait!”

Every eye, lensed or no, turns back to the gazebo. Joseph is at the edge of the steps, poised to run. When he sees Barclay stop, he turns to Vincent.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.” He hands the bachelor the rose, “I hope you understand.”

There’s no soundtrack on set, but strings swell in his ears all the same as Joseph descends the stairs and leaps into his arms, kissing him so hard he still has stars in his eyes when he opens them.

“It’s not a marriage proposal” Joseph whispers, kissing his cheek, “but I do have a question for you.” He pulls back, all cameras on them but his attention for Barclay alone, “would you like to be my boyfriend, big guy?”

Barclay rests their foreheads together, “Yeah, babe, I really, really would.”

[a-marlene-s]

Miraculous Chef

This is a... long.... one-shot, for  our @miner249er​! It was supposed to be shorter... but I got carried away. By a lot! Thank you so much for the Ko-Fi!!!

Please consider supporting my work! https://ko-fi.com/a_marlene_s

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Ships: Marinette/Adrien/Kagami/Luka Warning: Major Character death. (Off screen) and Lila salt. Summary:

Marinette walked down the steps and walked over towards a garbage can. Everyone watched in horror as Marinette opened the binder… and proceeded to rip everything up. She was methodical, precise and ensured nothing was salvageable. Not once did she blinked or flinched as she was doing so, unlike the others.

After destroying everything in the binder, Marinette proceeded to rip the binder too and shoved the binder into the trashcan with a loud thump. “Well… I guess I’ll stick with only making commissions for Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. At least THEY RESPECT MY WORK!”

Marinette looked over to see some of her classmates and Lila, giving her similar expressions of gob smack. “In all honesty, the candy cane peppermint suit should have been a clear giveaway he has no class.”

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There was no time to walk.

There was no time to take a moment of rest.

There was no time to double check her work.

Lila took that away from her. She took everything from her in one fell swoop. Marinette did her best to rearrange what was left of her portfolio. Lila had managed to take it out of her grasp and just… destroyed it completely. There was no coming back from it. She had destroyed it completely, even the most salvageable of pieces are unusable for being part of a portfolio.

And Lila knew that.

This resulted with Marinette having to run back home and scour through her room looking for old works she could place in her portfolio. She knew what she’s putting into her portfolio is still her best work, but not exactly one would call, in season. Hopefully, Mr. Agreste could see beyond it. Plus, he knows her work! He has seen it firsthand in competitions.

Running towards her destination, Marinette failed to see that there were two individuals picking the pieces of her destroyed portfolio. They were talking in harsh whispers as they quickly managed to salvage and run after Marinette.

-.-

Adrien paced back and forth, around the hall that was outside his father’s office. Phone in hand, either waiting for a call or wanting to call someone. Tension could be visibly seen all over him, Marinette is cutting it short. Nerves eating him alive and Adrien could not help it. He called her.

“Marinette? Where are you…? She did what…? Lila destroyed everything….? Everything…? Where are you…? You’re almost here…? Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.” Adrien’s features went from concern, confusion, anger, silent fury to well-practiced stillness. This is bad. No, that is not even the right word to use here. What Lila did is beyond inexcusable. A portfolio is an assemblage of work that showcases someone’s skills and knowledge. Showing all past, present and possibly future works and studies. It is their resume… and Lila ruined Marinette’s resume. By default, ruining her chances of getting an internship with his father.

Adrien made another phone call as he thought over what he needed to say next. “Kagami… You are doing what…? Oh, thank god… Marinette just called me and told me what Lila did… wait, why were you and Luka there in the first place… Uh-huh… Just, get here, the both of here… And please do no kill her… Oh, I want to do that too, but I want to use a different approach.”

The familiar sound of clacking against the granite floor had Adrien looking over his shoulder to see a clearly disheveled Marinette running towards him. She was dressed in a soft pink stripe suit, her hair in a high bun and Marinette looked like she’s on the edge of tears as she kept her portfolio close to her. Running behind Marinette are Luka and Kagami.

Seeing Kagami, Adrien hung up the call and put away his phone. He plucked out several tissues from Nathalie’s desk, who has been ignoring them, and reached over to wipe away any stray tears from Marinette. “I’m so sorry. I had made plans for Lila to be on the other side of the city. She should not have even been anywhere near you.”

“I’m not even sure what I have is enough.” Marinette managed to breathe out after managing to catch her breath. “How do I explain this to him? How do I explain this to anyone? What I have are my older works, I don’t even think it’ll be enough to impress Mr. Agreste!”

“Don’t worry about it. He has seen your work before. He knows you and your work. You are a shoe in for the apprenticeship. Just be yourself, kay?” Adrien attempted to help sooth Marinette’s mind. “Everything will be okay. We’ll be waiting for you here, kay?”

“We?” Marinette asked, her nose scrunched up as she took that in. She turned her head to see Kagami and Luka standing near them, both of them giving her encouraging smiles. “Oh…”

“We are rooting for you, Marinette.” Luka smiled, giving her a thumbs up.

“If Mr. Agreste doesn’t accept you as his apprentice then he is a fool.” Kagami gave Marientte a small smile, and she ignored the look Luka sent her way. A rather… smug one.

-.-

Adrien, Kagami and Luka watched on as Marinette walked into the office where her meeting with Gabriel Agreste is to take place. Once the door closed, Adrien rounded up on Kagami and Luka, he needed to know what they saw.

“What happened?” Adrien questioned; brows furrowed as his lips twisted into a tight frown.

“It looked like Rossi was waiting for Marinette.” Kagami mentioned, she tapped her chin in thought. “I had seen your text about her supposedly supposed to be at the other side of the city right after I had seen her around the bakery.”

Kagami couldn’t help but let out a sigh of defeat. “I should have shooed her away. I deeply apologize.”

“No, I should apologize.” Luka pipped up. “I had overheard Lila going on to Alya and Nino how she was supposed to help Marinette with her portfolio. I thought it was just another one of her lies. I didn’t think she would do something like this…”

Kagami and Adrien took note how Luka’s eyes seemed to glaze over, deep in thought. “Luka…?”

“…Did anyone tell Lila of Marinette’s interview? Did Marientte tell Alya?” Luka asked, trying to connect the dots.

Adrien shook his head. “Remember what I told her. That she shouldn’t tell anyone about it. Chloe had Sabrina steal her designs one time. Then Lila getting her expelled… I should have exposed Lila a long time ago.”

Luka reached over to place a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and gave him a good shake. “What we need to figure out right now, is why Lila wasn’t where she was supposed to be originally.”

The three teens did not take note how Nathalie shifted uneasily in her seat. She had to crane her neck to overhear the conversation. What she heard has her wondering if her boss’s plan is worth it.

-.-

Lila allowed herself to be coddled over by her ‘friends’ as they waited for Dupain-Cheng to walk out of building where Gabriel Agreste’s head office is located at. She was crying about how Marinette badly treated her when she tried to help her with her portfolio. Even after she was the one that got Marinette the interview between her and Mr. Agreste. Treating her so horribly so, after she had offered her an olive branch.

“…That doesn’t sound like Marinette.” Alya said after a moment of silence. “Marinette is extremely careful of her work. More so after Sabrina had stolen her sketchbook once time.”

The other girls murmured or nodded in agreement. Marinette is extremely careful about her sketchbooks, notebooks and well… everything about fashion. None of them could blame her. So, hearing that Lila had offered Marinette to help her with her portfolio… caused some red flags to spring up in their minds.

Flashing red flags.

“Girls! Look!” Mylene pointed over at the entrance of the building to see Marinette, Adrien, Luka and Kagami. What caught their attention is how… oddly calm Marinette is acting. She has a binder in hand, ignoring whatever Adrien, Luka and Kagami are trying to say to her. “What happened?”

Marinette walked down the steps and walked over towards a garbage can. Everyone watched in horror as Marinette opened the binder… and proceeded to rip everything up. She was methodical, precise and ensured nothing was salvageable. Not once did she blinked or flinched as she was doing so, unlike the others.

After destroying everything in the binder, Marinette proceeded to rip the binder too and shoved the binder into the trashcan with a loud thump. “Well… I guess I’ll stick with only making commissions for Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. At least THEY RESPECT MY WORK!”

Marinette looked over to see some of her classmates and Lila, giving her similar expressions of gob smack. “In all honesty, the candy cane peppermint suit should have been a clear giveaway he has no class.”

With that, Marinette walked away with her head held high with Luka and Kagami running walked after her. Adrien looked over at Lila, shooting her a glare. “I am done with your lies, Lila. Done!”

With that, Adrien turned on his heel and stormed up into his father’s building. He needed to figure out what had happened in that meeting.

-.-

Hawkmoth didn’t bother to hide his grin as he released an Akuma as he seeks out for Marinette. This is it; this is the day he will finally akumatize Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She would be a powerful akuma, one that could help him topple over Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Ah… there s….what is she doing?

She is destroying the remains of her amazing portfolio…

She destroyed her portfolio… And never once did she feel sad, angry or… anything he could use! Nothing at all! Ah! An outburst of anger… wait… she’s annoyed aga… What did she say?

Did she just insult his sense of style!

Hawkmoth willed his akuma to follow Marinette and her friends. This isn’t supposed to be happening! She’s supposed to be angry, sad or devastated! She should be annoyed! She should be breaking down! She should be akumatized by now!

Not this!!!!

Marinette and her friends arrived at the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, there, Hawkmoth’s akuma witnessed the following conversation.

“Honey, how did the interview go?” Mr. Dupain asked, watching his daughter taking several pastries from the display cases and placing them on a tray.

What she said next, has Hawkmoth falling to his knees.

“Gabriel Agreste is an asshole that just opened up my eyes to just how shitty the fashion world is like. I no longer want to be a designer.”

‘I think I made a mistake.’

-.-

Kagami, Luka and Adrien watched on as Marinette slowly and methodically put away the vast majority of her items that has to do with the Gabriel Brand, sewing supplies and so on. Her room is becoming barer by the minute and being filled with boxes. She did leave a small corner of her room to keep her sewing machine and some needed supplies. Fashion is her first love, but it will no longer take center stage of her life.

“What was he thinking!” Adrien ran his hands through his hair as he tried to process over what his father had said to Marinette. He leaned into Luka and Kagami’s touch as they tried to reassure him that it isn’t his fault. “He shouldn’t have said any of that!”

“Well… he did.” Marinette huffed out, she eyed a pile of fabrics and wondered if she could use them for Jagged or Clara. “Too young. Too inexperience. Unlikely to get my name out there… hah! Jagged and Clara have showcased my work.”

“Is that really enough to give up on your dream?” Kagami asked.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” Marinette nodded along with her thoughts. “I tried to explain to him that Lila had destroyed my portfolio then he went on how…”

Adrien’s head fell forward as Marinette recounted the interview.

“Of course, I don’t blame you Adrien.” Marinette quickly said. “I appreciate the interview. It… really opened my eyes on things.”

“Marinette!” Sabine called through the trap door. “Alya and Nino are here. Do you want me to send them up?”

Marinette looked over at the others, wondering what she should do.

“…Oh… crap.” Adrien looked over at the trap door with trepidation. “I might have called Lila a liar in front of Alya and the other girls there.”

“Do you believe she’ll deny it?” Kagami questioned it.

“Could be… or she finally put one plus one together.” Luka added in.

“Well, only one way to find out… You can let them in, Mamam!” Marinette called out, and a moment later, Alya and Nino climbed through the trap door. They looked apologetic… well, Nino more so compared to a pensive Alya.

-.-

Alya looked through the remains of Marinette’s original portfolio. She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Lila did this? Before your meeting with Adrien’s dad?”

“Yes. She made sure it was unsalvageable.” Marinette huffed out, she had her back towards her as she sat on her swivel chair. Her phone in hand as she texted someone.

“So now you see Lila is nothing more than a fox?” Kagami questioned, raising an eyebrow towards Alya’s direction. Giving her a look of warning, this caused Alya to look away with a flinch.

“…Lila mentioned she offered to help you with your portfolio to all of us. We all know that you will not allow anyone near it. We know you… dislike Lila, and even if she offered an olive branch. You still wouldn’t allow her to go anywhere near it.” Alya pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I told Alya about that one time you went completely off against Travis in Mendeleiev class when he purposely spilled grape juice on your sketches.” Nino pipped up. “Which were meant for an earlier portfolio.”

This caused Adrien, Kagami and Luka to turn their heads over to Nino then to Marinette. Marinette still had her back towards them, so they focused in on Nino for that story.

“Long story short, Travis used to be in Bustier class before being transferred to Mendeleiev’s class to ensure they were separated. Travis wasn’t allowed to be anywhere near her… due to reasons.”

“I… I don’t want to believe any of this! I just…” Alya stood up from her spot and started to pace the room. “I called Nino and what he said, made me rethink everything!”

Marinette slowly swiveled around in her chair to see Alya and Nino go on about their research on Lila and all her lies. Which resulted with them calling their classmates, all of whom have been doing their own research. They made a group chat to see what they should do, but the first order of business is to talk to her first. As they all grew massively worried over what many of them had witnessed earlier that day. Which resulted with having Alya and Nino be the ones to approach her.

“I do belive that all of you owe Marinette a sincere apology for your past actions.” Kagami mentioned, giving Alya and Nino a pointed stare.

“It could help fix bridges?” Luka mentioned.

“Marinette, I’m so-”

Ring~

Ring~

Ring~

“Oh… no…” Marinette bemoaned under her breath, before answering her phone. Someone decided that they needed to video call her.

“Marinette! What do you mean you no longer want to be a fashion designer? What did that moron say to you! How dare he say that to my niece! Penny!!!” Jagged Stone’s voice could be heard throughout the room from Marinette’s phone. “Let me get Clara and Penny be part of this call. They need to know!”

“Oh, Uncle Jagged…” Marinette couldn’t help but laugh at the man’s antics. She really needed a laugh. She didn’t see the looks of astonishment coming from Alya and Nino. Nino slapped his forehead while Alya pulled out her cellphone to something. “It’ll be more of a hobby now. I never noticed before just how stressed I’ve became because of it. I want to take a step back. Who knows… I might get back into it fully, but right now…”

“That is understandable.” Clara nodded in understanding. “As long as you do best by you, it is alright.”

“You know, there are other ways of getting a footing into the fashion world. We are more than happy to help you, Marinette.” Penny offered.

Marientte shook her head. “I rather not for now. I rather what I’m already doing. Doing amazing pieces for amazing people. But I won’t be making an actual career out of it.”

“Long as you are happy doing so~” Clara said. “Still, would you be apposed to Jagged and I doin-”

“Please don’t do anything rash.” Marientte shook her head at the sight of Jagged and Clara giving her pouty faces. “I rather let it go. I’m just done with it all. All I want to do now is make myself something to eat for dinner later and just get rid everything related to the Gabriel Brand.”

-.-

“Maybe… to help you get your mind off things, my mom is doing cooking lessons at the hotel.” Alya mentioned as Marientte walked her and Nino out. “It could keep your mind off things for a while? Who knows, you might enjoy it.”

“I’ll consider it.”

-.-

Kagami and Luka wave at Marinette and Adrien as they parted ways for them for the night. The two needed to talk about something and that involved Marinette and Adrien.

Once Marinette and Adrien were out of sight, Luka looked down at Kagami and gave her a smirk. “Have you thought over about what we talked about the other day?”

“The fact you encouraged me to possibly date both Marinette and Adrien? Or the fact you made mention you planned on doing the same.” Kagami huffed out, giving Luka a side glare. Her glare intensified at the sight of Luka’s smirk that looked like he could see right through her. Kagami let out a huff and looked away from Luka as she felt her face heating up. “How terrible of you.”

Luka could only shrug casually. He stretched out his arms and wrapped one around Kagami’s shoulders. “How terrible of us, indeed. Remember, there are several types of love and relationships. Why not give all of us a try? Who knows… you might find happiness with Adrien, Marinette and myself? Take a chance.”

Kagami snapped her head over at Luka with a glare, but that didn’t do much as her cheeks were a cheery red. “What makes you think that would be proper?”

Luka threw his head back with a laugh. With his free hand, he ran his hand through his hair as he looked down at Kagami with a grin. “My mother is a pirate. I learned to appreciate a woman with a blade over what’s “proper”.”

Kagami’s eyes widen and her jaw drop at Luka’s words. Her blush only seemed to intensify by the look Luka is giving her. She tried to put herself together and her voice wavered as she tried to put her thoughts together. “I should have never confessed to you my feelings for Adrien and Marinette to you in the first place. Now I have feelings for three!”

-.-

To say the least, Marientte ate up Marlena Cesaire lessons. Literally and figuratively. Marlena encouraged her students to the fullest. Offering advice, constructive critiques that never made anyone feel horrible and just… an amazing teacher and mentor!

“Remember, everyone! There is always room for improvement. Never feel discouraged.” Marlena called out to everyone that had attended her class. “We could always improve ourselves from our mistakes.”

“Yes, chef!”

Marlena couldn’t help but laugh as she watched on her students continuing with their projects/meals. Today’s task, making their own pasta from scratch. Once they make their own pasta, they are to create their own recipe to do go with the pasta. Simple right? Except for the fact they have to create their own recipe to go along with the noodles.

Marlena allowed everyone to do their own thing, and off them tips or insightful advice. Or to prevent someone from adding too much of a certain ingredient or be mindful with how much they use. Looking around the kitchen, she spotted Marinette kneeling over her pasta dough. Oh, it’s a different color.

“Hello, Marinette, what do we have here?” Marlena asked, giving the teen a warm smile.

“I wanted to see if I could add beet juice to the recipe to change the color of the pasta.” Marinette smiled up at Marlena, there was flour covering her face and clothing. Nothing out of the norm for someone that is working with flour. She then looked away from the woman, nervously, to look over to a bowl that had different batches, some looked too dry, too wet or not right. “It may have taken me a while to get it right.”

“That’s alright. Trial and error. You know what you did wrong, and improved. Nothing wrong with that.” Marlena grinned at Marinette, she reached over to give the new batter a slight pinch. Nodding at the texture of it. “This feels alright. But we’ll have to wait and see how it’ll taste like. With cooking, taste is key!”

“Yes, chef!” Marientte smiled, feeling elated by Marlena’s words.

“Such enthusiasm!” Marlena laughed. “You remind me of myself when I was your age. Dreams of becoming a chef, for people to eat and enjoy my food.”

“Did you always dreamed of becoming a chef?” Marientte asked.

“Honestly… no. I used to dreamed of becoming a boxer, but after an accident… I needed a change of scenery. Cooking became something I grew to enjoy and here we are. I traveled far places, trained under great chefs and… I think one of them was your uncle, Wang Cheng?”

“Uncle Wang?”

“Yes, he’s a wonderous teacher. I’ve learned so much from him.”

-.-

“I want to be like Uncle Wang! I want to become a chef!”

Sabine and Tom sat side by side as the former had her phone out with Marinette sitting across of them. Earlier, Marinette came home from her first cooking class and came back with sparkle in her eyes. One they haven’t seen in ages. Even before Marinette had firmly decided to no longer pursue fashion. They talked about how they could help Marinette with her new goal and dream.

More so when Marinette mentioned how Marlena Cesaire used to be Uncle Wang’s apprentice and how she traveled around the world to pursue her dreams. This brought up the idea of possibly asking Wang if he could take on Marinette as an apprentice over the summer. The couple asked their daughter if she liked the idea and see if it could happen.

Marinette agreed and she listens to her mother as she talks to Uncle Wang.

Several minutes later…

“He agrees... under the condition you learn Chinese and you are to spend the summer in China with him. Apparently, he needs help at his new restaurant he’ll be opening by then.” Sabine couldn’t help but smile as Marinette smiled brightly and lunged over to hug her and Tom.

“Thank you! Thank you!”

-.-

It feels like forever since that unfaithful day. The day that Marinette no longer cared to pursue a career in fashion. The day she started on a new dream that became a goal. That goal is her main focus now… and maybe some romance on the side. Well, that’s if she could figure out her feelings for certain people.

Marinette looked around the room and raised an eyebrow when she saw Lila sitting by herself at the front desk. Lila would occasionally send her a glare here and there. Marinette wasn’t bothered by it. If anything, judging by Alya’s constant snickering for the last couple of days and how the rest of the class were pretty giddy right now.

Too bad Adrien isn’t here today… more so when Bustier frantically entered the room with several folders in hand. A word that could best describe their teacher right now, is hysterical. She kept muttering under her breath about some paperwork that contained information on some projects and attendance. Finding it in a random folder, Bustier pulled it out and everyone swore they saw whatever light she had in her eyes… quickly diminish.

Bustier’s jaw fell in horror before she went back to look for something else in her folders. “Where is it? Where is it?”

No one said a thing. This is a first for them, they had never seen their teacher act so…

“I demand to know what is going on!!!” Someone shouted from outside the classroom. “What do you mean my daughter has a ‘lying disease’? She doesn’t have anything! And what do you mean we were are Achu? Lila has never been to Achu!”

Alya couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her lips. She leaned over to whisper to Marinette. “We’ve tracked down Lila’s mom and have been… planting distrust towards Lila. To the point we made her question the liar. Last night, Rose and Mylene ‘found’ her at the train station. They asked her about her supposed trip to Achu… and the missing months of school. I think that was the final nail.”

The door slammed open and there stood is a furious Rose Rossi. She scanned around the room to see her daughter giving her a look of despair. “Lila Rosario Rossi! What the hell have you been telling everyone? What have you been telling me?”

“Mama-”

“Don’t mama me! I am done! Done! And you!” Rosa rounded up on Bustier. “And you! What do you have between your ears? Dust? Cobwebs? Apparently, you have nothing but stupidity considering you allowed this to happen…”

“Please tell me you are recording this?” Marientte whispered to Alya.

“Nino, Kim and Max are recording this. Nino will edit later and send a copy to Adrien later.”

“Perfect.”

-.-

Marinette let out a sigh of content as she saw in a secluded corner of the library. Well, only for a brief moment. She pulled out her notebook and began to look through it in a panic. She has one month to figure out what she should do about her responsibilities as Ladybug for the entire summer. She’s tempted to have Viperion and Ryuko to become full time heroes to help Chat Noir. Then have Rena Rogue and Carapace to maintain their status of part time.

She could do that… the issue would be the Miraculous Cure. This is going to give her a headache…

Ring~

Ring~

Ring~

Marinette reached for her phone to answer it quickly. “Hello?”

“Marinette! Come to the Agreste Mansion!” Kagami said from the other side before hanging up.

Marinette blinked a couple of times as she slowly pulled the phone away from her. Kagami’s words didn’t exactly register for several seconds before she was next seen running through the library with bag and notebook in hand. Running through the school, ignoring everyone as she did so.

Reaching the front main entrance of the school, she found Nino looking frantically at his phone. When he saw Marinette running out of the school, he motioned her over to him. “Marinette! Do you know what happened to Adrien’s dad and his assistant?”

This caused Marinette to pause just enough to run over to Nino nearly out of breath.

“What happened? I got a call from Kagami to go to Adrien’s home.” Marinette manage to say, worry fill her as she saw how Nino looked distraught. “What’s going on?”

Nino took in a deep breath as he tried to put his thoughts together. “There was an accident…”

-.-

Time seemed to slow down for Marinette as she and Nino headed over to the Agreste Mansion. When they turned the block, they saw the front gate of the place littered with reporters. All of them wanting to get through the gates or demanding answers from the guards at the gates. When the guards saw the teens, they quickly ushered inside and there, they saw Gorilla on the phone, whispering to whoever was on the other line. He motioned for them to get upstairs, most likely to Adrien’s room.

They didn’t need to be told twice as they ran to Adrien’s room. They took a brief pause as they reached Adrien’s room. They could hear heart wrenching sobs coming from the other side of the room. Slowly, they opened the door to reveal a sobbing Adrien as he’s being comforted by both Kagami and Luka. When Adrien looked up to see who had entered the room, his expression broke and it shattered their own hearts at the sight. It didn’t take long for all of them to surround Adrien and doing their best to console him in his time of need.

-.-

“I do not know the full details. My mother informed me that Mr. Agreste and his assistant were in a car accident and died on the scene.” Kagami explained to Marinette as they walked down to the kitchen to retrieve food and drinks for everyone.

“I thought Gorilla was the one that drives them all over?” Marinette wondered aloud.

“Like I said, I do not know the full details.” Kagami explained. “Right now, we have to be there for Adrien. He needs us.”

“Of course.”

-.-

One week later…

“Gorilla has control of the Gabriel Brand and is my temporary guardian until we setting something with my aunt.” Adrien explained, to Marinette, Kagami and Luka as they looked through the blonde’s father’s office. “My aunt is coming by next month to figure out what to do next…”

Marinette reached over to place a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “We’re right here, Adrien. We’ll always be right here.”

“We’re all are here for you, Adrien.” Luka mentioned nudging Adrien with his elbow.

“We’ll always be here. All of us.” Kagami wrapped an arm around Adrien’s own. “We care for you deeply.”

“Thank you everyone… for being here with me.”

“We love you, Adrien. Of course, we’ll be here.” Luka smiled, his smile only grew when he took note how everyone blushed at his words. “Don’t ever forget that.”

-.-

“No… no… No, no, no!!!” Adrien flung a familiar box away from him. He looked at it with horror at its contents.

Everyone else in the room were quickly alarmed by this and turned to see what exactly caused Adrien to act in such a way. Marinette looked over to see an all familiar box that caused her to pale massively. She slowly walked over to the box as Kagami and Luka hurried over to Adrien help him.

Marinette couldn’t hear anything as she reached for the box and picked it up. The only thing she could hear is her own heartbeat as she opened the box to reveal the peacock miraculous. Her mind went a hundred miles a minute as she put several pieces together. She looked over at Adrien to see him sobbing and blubbering things out.

“This…THIS explains everything! Oh god…” Adrien heaved out; horror filled within him as he tired to make sense of things. The more the tried to wrap his head around it, the feeling of horror only grew. “They can’t! They can’t!!!”

“Can’t they what, Adrien? What did you throw?” Kagami held Adrien tightly against her, trying to make sense of things. “Marinette?”

“He found the peacock miraculous in his father’s belongings…” Marinette whispered as she turned around to show the others the miraculous in the jewelry box. The implication of it filled the air. More so for Marinette and Adrien. She headed over where Adrien had found it originally. It was the desk drawer that had a false bottom. There, is a matching box, sitting there innocently. Marinette slowly reached into the drawer and picked up the box and opened it. A faint gasp escaped her lips as this only finalized her thoughts. There laid the butterfly miraculous.

This only confirmed everything for Marinette. Her suspicious of Gabriel Agreste being Hawkmoth, in turn now with Nathalie being Mayura… well, they used to be Hawkmoth and Mayara… Oh no…

Marinette looked over at Adrien and felt her heart break. Three sets of eyes widening at the sight of the other jewelry box. “I’m so sorry Adrien…”

“I’ve been…. I’ve been fighting against him. My own father…” Adrien began to mutter to himself, causing worry to fill the others. More so when he began to laugh hysterically. Going on about how he should have known. It made so much sense! How his class were always the target. People that are close to him, always get akumatized. Why? Because of his father! “Ladybug is going to hate me… and I wouldn’t blame her! Who wouldn’t! We’ve been fighting my father! I’m the cause of everything wrong that has ever happened to anyone around me…”

“No… I wouldn’t hate you, Adrien. I could never hate you, Chaton.”

-.-

“Even with Hawkmoth gone, I feel that we need to continue to protect the city.” Marinette explained to Kagami, Luka and Adrien as they hanged out in her room. There were all on her bed and eating ice cream as they thought over the future. “I… I don’t know how to explain to Paris that Hawkmoth is no more…”

“The city does need it’s heroes.” Luka pointed out, pointing his spoon towards Marinette’s direction in agreement. “There are always something going on that doesn’t always had to with Hawkmoth.”

“I take it that Nino and Alya are the Turtle and Fox heroes respectively?” Kagami asked, raising her head to look over Adrien’s own to look at Marinette.

“I may have told Nino about everything…” Adrien explained just above a whisper. “I didn’t want to hide anything from him after…”

“…that would explain somethings…” Marinette wondered aloud. “Alya has been looking at me strangely and kept asking me about Ladybug… Then she became rather interested on my trip out of Paris during the summer. I don’t think Nino told her about… you know…”

“You’re still going to China?” Luka asked, wrapped an around Marinette’s shoulders, changing the subject slightly.

“Yep!” Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “I still aim to become a famous chef, like my uncle and Chef Marlena.”

“We’ll be by your side every step of the way.” Adrien smiled. Glad that Marinette is moving forward. Maybe… he’ll move forward when he feels ready to do so. On his own pace. At least he knows that he isn’t alone. He’s currently surrounded by people that love him and he loves them just as much. “I love you guys.”

Next thing Adrien knew, he’s being smothered in kisses by the others.

-.-

Several years later…

“And… Cut! Perfect!” Nino called out from behind the camera. On the other side of the camera is Marlena showcasing a dish she just created. Rataouille. As it was requested by the blog for Marlena to make the dish. “That was perfect!”

“Thank you, Nino.” Marlena smiled as she began to put everything back in place. “We must hurry, the reopening is today, and I do not want to miss it.”

“Got it!” Nino agreed as he began to put away his equipment. Doing so, he couldn’t help but think about to how he got to where he and the others are now today. He guesses it really started when Marinette changed her path in life and without realizing it, all of them followed suit in their own way. Her path went down the road of food and well… everyone more or less followed a path that surrounded food in their own way. Alya had created a food blog that became quite successful, more so when she included her family. Then he got into it, by creating videos for the blog. Which resulted with him becoming a director for Marinette’s cooking show after she had returned from her travels.

Nino couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. At that time, Marinette had already traveled the world, meeting a wide verity of people that are known in the industry and making a name for herself. It also didn’t hurt how she won multiple competitions that helped booster herself into the forefront of it all. (Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale helped made Marinette a household name with how much they gushed about her.) That didn’t even include how with the help of Adrien, Luka and Kagami, by expanding her empire. (Alya’s words, not his.)

Yet… Marinette asked him to possible produce and direct a cooking show. Him? Him… and he agreed! With the help of Marinette’s partners, a cooking competition was created! Good times… Which reminds him, he needs to get in contact with Luka after the party before he goes back on tour with Jagged. Need to ask him for the possibility of scouting out recipes and video ideas.

Ping~

Nino pulled out his phone to see what arrived. Kagami sent him several links of several independent vendors. Several of which sell various types of kitchenware. One that caught his attention is this one vendor that creates very good quality knives. Not surprising Kagami would send him that. Considering she’s been looking for a new set of knives as her old ones needed to be replaced. He’ll have to get in contact with them at a later time though. Right now, it’s nearly showtime.

-.-

“Hello, Paris! How is everyone doing today! Alya Lahiffe here waiting for the grand reopening of Dupain-Cheng bakery. Sources say, the name may change or stay the same, who knows! Stick around and see!” Alya livestreamed the event on her blog, she moved her phone around to show the massive gathering that are there to see the reopening. She could see several of her friends, many of them from her time on Dupont waving excitedly towards her. Alya waved back just as excitedly before turning her attention back to her phone to continue with the livestream. “As many of you know, Marinette Dupain-Cheng has made it her life goal to become a master chef like her uncle, Wang Cheng. What first started to be an apprenticeship to learn from a master, to her…”

Alya continue to list off Marinette’s achievements and accomplishments that lead to her creating an empire that surrounded around her famous cooking and baking. She didn’t leave out any details either. There were just as many downs as they were ups, but that never deterred Marinette from her goals. If anything, it made her more determined.

“Marinette’s just released her latest cookbook, “Ladybug’s Heart” is first being sold on my blog. Use the code LADYBUG for a discount! Stick around, I’ll be doing a raffle and giving out prizes. One of which is flight here to Paris to see the Marinette herself!” Alya waved at her phone before ending the livestream for now. Right now, she spotted a familiar red limo that is riding up towards the restaurant.

“Finally, they are here.”

Alya turned around to see Adrien walking up to her with a smile. She frowned at the sight of him. “Right, appear right when I stopped the livestream.”

Adrien only gave her a cheeky grin. He pulled on his tie and that only made Alya to roll her eyes. The blonde looked at the massive gathering that arrived for the reopening. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. This showcased just how far Marinette has come so far in her journey.

“Where are the kids? I thought they were coming?” Alya asked as she took pictures of the area and the ever-growing crowd.

“Arnaka are taking care of them. It’s her turn… and it’s music night…” Adrien couldn’t help but shiver at the thought. As much as he loves the woman, her need to feed the kids excessive amount of sugar… which resulted with Plagg hiding from everyone for a whole month in fear of Tikki’s wrath. It wasn’t a good month.

“Oh hush. I’m sure between you, Marientte, Luka and Kagami, it wasn’t so bad.” Alya couldn’t help but chuckle.

“They managed to take some of the miraculous’s.”

“…I take it back. Ouch.”

-.-

“I don’t know why I’m so worried, I’ve already opened several other restaurants, that warehouse, food trucks and…” Marinette started to ramble on, allowing her nerves to take over. She did, marginally, calm down when she felt familiar touch on her shoulder. She turned to see that Luka had placed calming hand on her shoulder. “I rambled again, didn’t I?”

Luka, sitting between Marinette and Kagami, who he had his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Gave Marinette a serene smile. “I didn’t notice, I got lost in the rhythm of your heart, Love.”

“Oh, ever the charmer.” Kagami rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. She reached over to kiss Marinette’s lips lightly. Pulling back, Kagami gave Marinette a determined smile as she squeezed Marinette’s free shoulder. “You did this. You. There is nothing to worry. We are here to make sure nothing goes wrong, got it?”

“Dearest is right. We are here with you, making sure this day goes perfect. Right now, Kitty Kat is taking care of things right now.” Luka smiled, he reached over to held onto Marinette’s chin. It had Marinette to look over to Luka and couldn’t help but melt at the softness he’s displaying. “A kiss for good luck?”

“I wouldn’t mind one.” Marinette began to say but the limo stopped, bringing them back into reality. “We’re here already?”

Luka reached over and kissed her nose. “For good luck.”

Marinette couldn’t help but frown before she reached over to kiss Luka on the lips before she quickly scrambed out of the limo. She needed her last nerves for this event. After all, the reopening is the reopening of her family’s bakery. When the door opened from the other side, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Adrien. Her Chaton.

“Ready, princess.”

[yanderemommabean]

A really dumb comfort scenario by Mommabean

Dabi x Reader fluff stuff

Dabi never used to see himself as a night owl. Standing out as the skies turn from a pleasant purple to a dark shade of black speckled with bright stars wasn’t something he saw himself enjoying, not until a few months ago when fate decided he needed to meet someone worth staying out late with.

Usually he prefers to just stay inside and do his own thing, be that scrolling through memes or simply just listening to music while he turns the lights off and drifts into his mind for a few hours. On rare occasions he’ll spend time with friends, but it drains him considerably and he has to recharge his battery afterwards.

It doesn’t mean he hates them, he’s just not a person with a lot of energy, but he knows people take it personally. Which can’t really be helped as he isn’t the best with words on explaining why he does what he does, honestly he doesn’t even know.

Typically his weeks goes like this - working with assholes who act like siblings rather than coworkers, then wanting to unwind as soon as he gets home because if he doesn’t he’ll snap or possibly have a mental break. Which probably already happened considering where he is now, but another break isn’t something to want to happen either.

But Dabi was forced out one night a few months back by Toga, who he can’t say no to often as she’s like a little sister and he adores her as such, and was dragged practically to a restaurant for drinks and food as a way to celebrate their hard work. Even Shigaraki got a stick out of his ass for a hangout, so he supposed he could suck it up for their sake.

Leave it to his soft heart to make him torture his own antisocial ass. However, this time he was seemingly gifted, as he heard laughter from across the room and saw you, giggling and almost snorting as you covered your face at the ridiculous joke a friend made. You looked absolutely precious, for lack of a better word. Not a care in the world as you laughed and giggled so hard you lost your breath.

He was drawn to the brightness you added to the dull restaurant, vaguely paying attention to the conversation his own group was having as you peaked his interest. Dabi figures he was being too obvious with his staring, as you looked over and met his gaze directly, but instead of flipping him off and acting like a full Karen, you waved and gave a shy smile.

That kinda hurt to not see that pretty smile. You’ve hidden it the entire time he’s been watching you, as if you hated it. Well, he’s got a plan for that, just you wait. He’ll get you to smile for him, just give him time. He remembers how he managed to greet you, both of you talking and surprisingly having a lot in common.

A total mindfuck to find out an adorable, fluffy person like you was into murder documentaries, scary stories, horror films, and loved to study obscure and odd mysteries. Color him pleasantly surprised. You two kept chatting away after the awkward ice was broken, to the point your friends were getting a bit pissy and telling you to hurry up to leave.

Fuck ‘em. He didn’t like them then and he doesn’t like them now. Out of spite he wanted to ask you for a drink so he could drag out the conversation longer, but he didn’t need to make a bad impression or make Shigaraki think he was pulling something. Which again, was fair, he was known for pulling some stupid shit every now and again.

Months. It’s been months and he hasn’t gotten tired of meeting you and being around you. You’ve had your arguments sure, had your moments where you and him were a bit tense, but that didn’t deter anything. Hell, you two have nicknames for one another now, and he allows you to play with his hair every now and again. He doesn’t let anyone get that close except Toga, you should be a little honored. Nothing is ever getting rid of him if you two are this close already.

It’s still baffling. Months! And all this time, you still hid that pretty smile. The very thing that drew him too you in the first place. What do you have to be ashamed of? Besides your search history, absolutely nothing! Dabi sighs as he sits on the steps outside of his apartment, looking up to the night sky, waiting for you to answer on if you wanted to hangout or not. Either way he began to enjoy this new sight, this addition to his schedule was something he looked forward to more than his late night music sessions.

He was about to text you again, thumb hovering over the keyboard as he thought of what to say, but three dots appear and he decides to wait and see. You, being the sweetheart you are, tell him to wait and that you’ll meet him in ten. A warm feeling fills his chest again knowing you’d be here. It’s been happening a lot lately actually, and he’s not an idiot. He knows he likes you, he’s just never liked someone to this extent. Should he be embarrassed? Excited? Happy? Who the hell knows. All he knows is he would do anything for you, and his feelings towards you are only growing.

Dabi flicks his phone off after a minute and looks around, waiting for you to show up. While scanning the area, he heard frantic steps coming up the sidewalk that were approaching fast, in a panic. He jumps up to his feet to see who could be running his way, more curious than in the mood to save someone.

However, seeing you with tears running down your face wasn’t at all what he expected. He felt rage and worry surge through him, an almost animal like possessiveness took over him and the idea that something happened makes him sick with anger. His body moves without him thinking, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tightly, listening to your shaking sobs as you cling to him and begin to apologize.

“Hey- hey what happened?!” He asked sternly, sounding more pissed than worried, cringing slightly at his tone. Smart move asshole, make them feel even worse. Genius.

You stutter and begin to try and talk, but your throat is tight and your eyes are still pouring like waterfalls. You shake your head and clench your eyes shut again, burying your face into his chest as your knuckles turn white from gripping his sleeves for dear life. Dabi tensed, breath hitching as you hugged him tightly and began to shudder and weep into him.

Hands gently rub your back as he slowly walks with you, guiding you to the steps he was just at to help you sit down and get yourself together. “Who’s ass do I need to kick?”.

You giggle at that, wiping your eyes as you shake your head playfully “No ones Dabi...I’ve just been feeling super fucking depressed and stressed out because of work and I feel I have no time for myself anymore and...well I just needed to be with someone who understands”.

He was touched that you saw him as someone you could come too. Seriously have you seen him? He’s the worlds most selfish asshole! He can’t even trust himself half the time, especially when it comes to bothering people and pulling pranks. You might wanna reconsider who you’re trusting there.

Although hearing no one hurt you was calming, he was still worried for your wellbeing.

“I get it. I mean I’m not the best with comforting but I understand what you mean. It’s frustrating as hell not even having time to rest, and then having to head back to work for nine hours or more over and over...it ain’t easy”. He rubs the back of his neck as he speaks, already feeling the anxiety over his schedule for tomorrow.

Sniffling softly, you nod and scoot closer to him, his warmth soothing and comforting compared to the chilling winds of the night. “Yeah. And it doesn’t stop for decades. I’ll never have free time again or I’ll always feel tired and drained and I hate it”.

Now that’s not necessarily true, but he knows where you’re coming from. Every day lately seems like such a struggle, he knows it all too well. It was clear you needed more than to vent and rant, and he has just the thing to help the mood. “It’s not all that monotonous. I think you’re just overwhelmed and need a break. Wanna come in? I think we both need a drink and a few laughs”.

You fiddle with your hands a bit, looking down at your feet with lips pursed in thought. “I can stay the night?”. What kind of question is that? Seriously what kind of question?! You literally just cried into his shirt no problem, now you’re worried about personal space? “Dude, you really have to ask? Stay a fucking week if you want, just get your ass inside before I drag you in” he jokes.

You look away as you smile, standing up and dusting off your legs before heading into his apartment behind him. Maybe tonight he’ll get you to stop hiding that smile, to bring those walls down even more and let him show how amazing you are in his eyes. Just maybe.

((This was bad I know I know I just needed a way to vent -Mommabean))

[keigoslovebird]

Three’s Company

Pairing: Sakusa x Atsumu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers and aged up characters, but that’s it. It’s very soft

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2.5k

Author’s note: This is just something short and sweet that I wrote for a friend who wanted some fluffy Sakatsu. I realized there’s not much on this blog, so I wanted to upload a little something. A much longer Ushijima fic will be coming soon, so enjoy this little taste for now~

It’s nearing the end of the volleyball season and the Black Jackals are finishing up one of their final practices. This season has been one of the best in the team’s history, so they’ve decided to go out for dinner to celebrate.

Bokuto is still sweaty and out of breath when he claps a hand on Atsumu’s shoulder. “Hey Tsum-Tsum, is your girlfriend still coming to dinner tonight?”

“Sure is!” Atsumu confirms, smiling and giving him a thumbs up.

He shouts across the court to the man who’s quickly retreating to the showers. “You have a girlfriend too right, Sakusa?” Sakusa stops and turns to nod to him. “Will she be there?”

“Yes, she will.” 

Their teammates don’t notice the knowing look he exchanges with Atsumu.

“Great! We all get to meet both of your girlfriends tonight!” Hinata exclaims, his eyes shining with excitement.

“Yeah. Both.” 

--

You’re standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment, questioning your boyfriends with your hands on your hips. “You still haven’t told them?”

The taller of the two speaks first. “Why should we? Our personal lives aren’t any of their business.” 

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Omi, you know how some people react to relationships like ours.”

Atsumu reaches his arms out, a wordless gesture for you to come to him. You do, of course. “Babe what they think doesn’t matter,” he says, nuzzling the top of your head with his cheek. “The only people’s opinions who matter are standing right here.”

You nestle deeper into his broad chest. “I know, but… What if they don’t like me? What if they don’t like me with you, with both of you?” When you look up, both of your partners are looking at you with soft, reassuring eyes. 

“They will love you, we know they will. You’re so smart and beautiful and funny and you keep the both of us grounded.”

Sakusa brings your hand to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. “Not that their opinion matters anyway. We love you and nothing they have to say will change how we feel.” It’s rare for him to speak so openly and poetically but when he does, it’s just what you need to hear.

--

Atsumu drives you to the restaurant, you in the passenger seat and Sakusa in the backseat. He initially protested when he was told he’d have to sit in the back, insisting that he’d drive by himself and meet everyone there. He eventually caved when the blonde told him how funny it will be when you all arrive together. 

Atsumu had also stolen his keys so he was forced to ride with you anyway.

When you pull up to the fancy restaurant your heart is in your throat and you’re nervously bouncing your leg. The man sitting next to you places his hand on your knee, stilling your anxious movements.

“Babe, don’t be nervous,” Atsumu reassures you, “They’re not nearly as intimidating as they seem.”

That’s when you spot a man, who you recognize is Bokuto, walking down the sidewalk. You assume it’s him based on all the times Sakusa has calls him a dumb owl with stupid hair. The rest of the team is following right behind him, each of the members looking more massive and daunting than the last. Each of them towers over the crowd of people, with the exception of the slightly smaller man with orange hair. Seeing them all in the flesh for the very first time causes insecurity to brew in your chest, feeling small and inadequate compared to the men who seem so much larger than life. They're so strong and talented and accomplished and successful and—.

Sakusa reaches for your hand from the backseat, lacing his long fingers with yours. “Everything will be fine. Don’t worry so much, alright?” You nod sheepishly and take a deep breath to steady your nerves and your racing heart.

The three of you step out of the car, making your way towards the restaurant together. When you enter, you aren’t looking where you’re going and end up smacking straight into a broad, muscular back. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You squeak, bowing and sputtering apologies as fast as you can. 

The massive wall of a man turns, giving you a reassuring smile. “That’s quite alright. Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

Atsumu comes up from behind you and offers his hand to the man, grinning. He takes it, giving your boyfriend a firm handshake. “Captain, fancy seeing you here.” He wraps a long arm around your waist, pulling you toward him. “I see you’ve already acquainted yourself with my lovely girlfriend,” he says, rubbing your shoulder affectionately. He turns to you, “Babe, this is Meian, the captain of the team.”

Meian bows at you and you return his gesture of acknowledgement. “It’s nice to meet you, Meian. Sorry for bumping into you again,” you say, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly.

Suddenly, there’s a flurry of activity and an outburst of shouts that makes you jump. Bokuto elbows his way through his team members, his spiky hair coming into view before his face.

“Hey hey hey! No fair Captain, I wanted to be the first one to meet Tsum-Tsum’s girlfriend!” He whines, pouting at his senior.

Atsumu pats him on the shoulder to try to calm him down. “Now, now Bokkun. Everyone on the team gets to meet her so it doesn’t matter who meets her first.”

You nod, bowing in his direction to introduce yourself. “Hello Bokuto, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You look over at your boyfriend, smiling.  “Atsumu has told me so much about you.” 

Bokuto puts Atsumu in a one-armed headlock, giving him a noogie. “All good things I hope!”

You giggle as your boyfriend wrestles out of Bokuto’s grip, grumbling about his hair as he fixes it. “Of course!” you insist cheerily. 

Hinata, Inunaki, and the rest of the Black Jackals introduce themselves, names and respectful bows passed among your group.

All eyes snap to Sakusa as he makes his way through the mass of bodies, face twisted in disgust at how densely packed the restaurant is. “Sorry, I left something in the car.” He thrusts his hand at you, offering you your purse. “You forgot this in there too.” You gingerly take it from his outstretched hand, bracing yourself from the flurry of questions that are sure to erupt.

“Oh Omi-san, you drove here with them?” Hinata asks and Sakusa makes a noise of agreement. He suddenly gasps, “Did you make your girlfriend drive here alone!?”

Sakusa sighs and shakes his head. “Not quite,” he replies, bending down to give you a kiss on the cheek. You go ramrod straight, a furious blush spreading across your cheeks.

You can feel the shockwave that ripples through the whole team, each member trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Omi-omi you finally made it! You really like to make us wait, don’t you?” Atsumu teases, planting a smooch on Sakusa’s cheek. He sighs, patting the blonde’s hand.

“I just had to get something from the car. I wasn’t trying to make anyone wait on me.”

You’re holding your breath, anticipating some sort of disgusted reaction from at least one of their friends at your unorthodox relationship. Your heart is thudding in your ears and you can feel how sweaty your palms are.

“Ohh I see what’s going on. Sakusa, Atsumu, and this fine little lady here are what’s called a manager of trost!” Bokuto exclaims, a confident look on his face.

Sakusa clears his throat. “I think the word you’re looking for is a ménage à trois.” He pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment, exhaling loudly. “It’s a crude way of putting it but I suppose that’s one way of explaining it.” 

Hinata’s eyes are bulging so hard you’re afraid they’ll pop out of his head. “Wait, hold on. Wait a minute. Hold up. Wait. I need a minute.” The three of you watch as the gears in his head slowly turn, trying to process this new information. “So you’re—” he starts.

Sakusa quickly cuts him off, simply giving a curt, “Yes.” He’s used to these types of reactions by now.

Pointing at Atsumu, Hinata attempts to connect another dot. “And he’s—” 

“Yup,” Atsumu replies, dramatically popping the ‘p.’ 

He gestures in your direction, waving his arms around haphazardly, almost smacking Bokuto in the face. “And you three are—” 

Atsumu grins and wraps an arm around each of your shoulders, hugging you and Sakusa to him. “That’s right! We're polygamists.”

Sakusa corrects him, rolling his eyes. “You mean polyamorus, Atsumu.”

Atsumu releases him and waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, same thing.” 

“They are most definitely not the same thing,” he grumbles under his breath.

Hinata turns to you, a serious look on his face. “So when you three cuddle at night, who’s the little spoon and who’s the big spoon?”

You nearly burst out laughing at how earnest he looks, eagerly awaiting your response so he can learn the logistics of three-way cuddling. You internally let out a breath of relief, thankful the team’s reaction seems so positive. “Ah, well, it changes. Sometimes I sleep between them, sometimes Omi spoons Tsumu and I spoon Omi. It depends on how we’re all feeling.”

For the next several minutes Hinata bombards you with question after question about the arrangements in a polyamorus relationship, including, but not limited to, who wears the pants, who cooks and who does the dishes, and who chooses what to watch on Netflix. His seemingly endless interrogation begins to exhaust you, but you do your best to answer all of his questions. Sakusa can sense you’re getting overwhelmed and puts his hand out in front of you, shielding you slightly with his body.

“That’s quite enough, Hinata,” he cautions, “If you have any more questions you can ask me.” The warning look in his eye says otherwise and Hinata visibly bristles, sensing Sakusa’s silent threat if he keeps bothering you. 

Hinata repeatedly bows in apology, clasping his hands together in a pleading gesture. “I-I’m really sorry if I was rude! I didn’t mean to offend y-you,” he stammers.

You’re flustered by his sudden change in demeanor, waving your hands emphatically and trying to get him to stand back up. “It’s okay! I know you don’t mean any harm, don’t worry. You can stop bowing now.”

You silently thank the forces above when the hostess calls your party to be seated, saving you from having to endure more the interaction that was quickly going south. Everyone takes a seat at a large table, all engaged in lively conversation as menus are passed around. You’re seated between your boyfriends, Sakusa to your left and Atsumu to your right. Bokuto is directly in front of you and Hinata is right next to him, both involved in a slightly too loud debate about whether or not ketchup is soup.

The waiter comes around and takes everyone’s food and drink orders and you’re appreciative that the attention has shifted from you to old stories from some of the team’s high school days.

Hinata reveals that Bokuto almost kidnapped him from their training camp one year by convincing him the Fukurodani bus was actually the Karasuno bus. He had been so tired and exhausted that he listened, not questioning why the entire Fukurodani team would be on the bus headed back to Miyagi. They had made it a couple miles down the road before Suzumeda noticed the redhead sleeping in the back of the bus, immediately notifying the bus driver so he could turn back around before the Karasuno team left. He made it back just in time, narrowly avoiding being stranded in Tokyo but unable to avoid Sugawara’s lecture about being more aware of his surroundings. 

Bokuto pouts, insisting he didn’t mean to steal Hinata away from his team, he just wanted to borrow him for a bit. 

The spiky-haired man eventually sets his eyes on you, propping his head up on his hands. “So whose dick is the biggest? My money is on ‘ol mask face over there but I’ve never been able to confirm because he’s such a stickler that he showers and gets dressed before we even get to the locker room!” 

Stunned by such a bold question, you stay silent for a moment, a slightly horrified expression on your face. Once you recover, you dodge his question by asking about how he styles his hair every morning and he takes the bait with enthusiasm, immediately sharing the various products he uses and stresses how it’s so important to deep condition.  

As Bokuto goes off on a tangent about scalp health you nudge Sakusa with your elbow, leaning over and whispering, “Are they always like this?”

Sakusa gives you a pained look. “Yes, they are.”

A few hours go by, dinner filled with laughs, more stories, and even a few tears when the men recall some of the tough times they had. Soon yawns and the rubbing of tired eyes becomes contagious, signaling everyone’s desire to go home and sleep. Once checks and cards are exchanged and each tab is paid, each person at the table looks ready to take their leave.

Sakusa stands and clears his throat. “I think it’s about time we headed home. Are you both ready?” he asks, looking at you and Atsumu. You both nod and get up to join him, others following your lead and heading toward the exit. Everybody lingers in the parking lot for a few minutes to exchange goodbyes, patting each other on the back and saying they’ll see them at practice on Monday.

Your boyfriends lead you to the car, each of their hands on your waist. Atsumu opens your door for you and gives you a kiss on the cheek before you get in, a dreamy look on his face. Once all three of your doors close you let out a tired sigh and lean your head on the headrest.

“I know babe, but you did so well tonight. I could tell they all really loved you, especially Hinata!” Atsumu smiles from the driver’s seat, patting your thigh lovingly. 

Sakusa huffs from behind you, “A little too much if you ask me.”

You turn to look at him, giggling. “Omi are you jealous?”

He crosses his arms, sulkily looking out the window. “I’m not jealous, he was just too enthusiastic.”

The drive home is peaceful, all of you too tired to carry on any sort of conversation. 

When you get to your apartment, you and Atsumu simply strip out of your clothes and flop into bed, Sakusa joining you after he brushes his teeth and takes a shower.

“You had nothing to worry about. You definitely charmed them,” Atsumu murmurs, dangling on the precipice of sleep. You cuddle further into his side so you’re firmly sandwiched between your boyfriends.

“For once Atsumu is right, you really had no reason to worry they wouldn’t like you,” Sakusa adds, wrapping his arm around your middle.

You hum contentedly, hugging the both of them tightly. “I love you both so much, you know that right?”

Sakusa kisses your shoulder. “I love you too, sweetness.”  

You wait a few seconds before realizing Atsumu is asleep, snoring softly. Giggling, you close your eyes and fall asleep quickly, comforted by the two solid, reassuring bodies next to you.

[okayshin]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴs

✉ how they choose their darling

⤹ yandere!au 

⤹ ft. bakugou, kirishima, midoriya, shinsou, todoroki 

⤹ tw. stalking, drugging, typical yan things

ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ >

═══ ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ ᴋᴀᴛsᴜᴋɪ 

▹    bakugou is very particular about who he chooses to spend his time with, and who he fixates on

▹    he’s very good at hiding his interest in others

▹    it takes a lot for someone to see through whatever facade he may create 

▹    bakugou wouldn’t pick someone he doesn’t know well 

▹    he’d hide behind calling them an idiot, dumbass, or other rude things, but if anyone knows bakugou, they’d understand these are basically terms of endearment 

▹    he’d make it a point to have himself around you as often as he can without making it suspicious or weird 

▹    he’s smart. he’d be able to watch you without anyone realizing it

▹    bakugou doesn’t take chances, though. if he thinks he’d be at risk by stalking you, he can hold himself off for a day or so until he feels comfortable again 

    ══

Bakugou loved watching you. He’d never admit it to anyone but himself. Watching you made him feel something. His heart race, his pulse quicken, his stomach churn- call it love, or whatever the fuck else you could lable it as, but he liked the feeling. He liked the adrenaline that coursed through his veins when you’d do your homework in the common area, and not notice his lingering stare from across the room. He liked when you would bring your pencil to your lips, and how you chewed on the eraser with your brows furrowed. Momo studied with you, pointing at something on the paper before explaining it with hand gestures while your brows only furrowed further until there was a hard crease. 

He wanted to take his thumb and work the crease away. He wanted to be the one to help you with your homework. He wanted to be the one to guide you through any problems you may come across in life. He wanted to protect you from the world. 

But not now. Not today. The time isn’t right. Soon, maybe. But not now. 

═══ ᴋɪʀɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ᴇɪᴊɪʀᴏ 

▹    kirishima inserts himself in your life in any way he can

▹    he’s very good at making you feel comfortable around him 

▹    he can guide conversation in ways you can’t fathom, and there’s never a dull moment when he’s around 

▹    he’s great at making you smile and laugh 

▹    kirishima cherishes your smile 

▹    he does his best to make sure he’s the reason you’re smiling. that he’s the reason you’re laughing. that he’s the reason you’re happy

▹    he’s not as sneaky as bakugou. he can’t plan like bakugou can, but he’s good at other things 

▹    he knows you trust him and he plays on that trust. sometimes he slips things in your drinks or food. makes sure you’re knocked out before he decides to visit you in your room at night

▹    kirishima is self-aware, though. he knows he shouldn’t be doing this. he knows he shouldn’t feel that way he does. but he just. can’t. stop. 

     ══

Kirishima pulled his lip between his teeth, hands clenching and unclenching themselves into fists. He tastes metal, and for a moment forgets whose door he’s outside of in favor of wiping at his lip, pulling his hand back to see dots of red decorating the tips of his fingers. God, he should just leave, right? That shit he gave you should be well on its way through your system. You’ll be waking up saying you just had the best sleep ever and it’s all because of him. 

He makes a face, wiping what little blood remained away and taking a deep breath. It would be wrong to intrude on your sleep, even if nothing would be able to wake you up. An invasion of privacy. But really, nothing stopped him from doing it before tonight. 

What’s stopping him from seeing you one more time?  

═══ ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪʏᴀ ɪᴢᴜᴋᴜ

▹    midoriya writes down everything about you

▹    he knows your schedule better than you do, and often has to remind you what comes next in your day-to-day life 

▹    he makes sure you’ve eaten. makes sure you’re feeling well. checks on you when you go through your rigorous hero training 

▹    midoriya listens to your problems, and sucks up to you in any little way he can, just to prove he is the perfect little friend for you 

▹    he can be your therapist, your companion, your anything.

▹    but most importantly, he wants to be your hero 

▹    midoriya is a dirty dirty boy 

▹    and he wants you to know he’s the only person you need 

     ══

Midoriya grinned behind his notebook, watching you stretch from the couch with a yawn and a nudge to Jirou with your foot. The monthly movie night is coming to an end, and now it’s time for you (and everyone else) to go to bed. Sure, there’s a few night owls; Tokoyami, Sero, and Shinsou, but they usually take to their rooms instead of dwindling out in the living space. 

He has everyone down to T- Bakugou left long before the third movie started, Kirishima and Denki fell asleep in the middle of the second cheesy romance Mina chose, Sato screamed when first horror movie played, and Dark Shadow tickled the feet of Hagakure and Ojiro, making the both of them jump so high you couldn’t contain your laughter. 

And now, you’ll go to your room. Pop your back as soon as you walk through the door and strip yourself of your pants. Your room seems to run hotter than the others, so you just sleep in your underwear and a t-shirt. Midoriya wonders if you’ll swap out the one you’re currently wearing for your usual worn out All Might shirt or if you’ll feel too tired to do so much effort and instead collapse on your bed. 

He supposes he can find out after everyone’s asleep. After all, you’re usually a heavy sleeper. 

═══ sʜɪɴsᴏᴜ ʜɪᴛᴏsʜɪ 

▹    shinsou is very secretive 

▹    he takes notes from his mentor on how to be like this

▹    he knows how to be quiet. light on his feet 

▹    you won’t ever know he’s there 

▹    shinsou loves taking the risk 

▹    he loves playing with the possibility of you catching him

▹    would you think he’s a freak? would you stop being his friend? 

▹    would you be into it? 

▹    he knows deep down you probably would be. i mean, you like him don’t you? so you’d have to enjoy it. 

     ══

Shinsou popped his knuckles, stifling a yawn while he watched you laugh with your friends. Some randoms he couldn’t care less to know. You don’t notice him. You never do. He keeps himself well hidden, with his hood pulled over his head and his hands shoved into his pockets while leaning against a tree. You decided to meet at a park, have a picnic, and if he had to guess, you’d be leaving in about five minutes with your social battery down and your spirits high. 

He’d be there to see you first at the dorms when you were ready, a lazy grin on his face as he greets you. It’s like clockwork; he’d ask if you had fun without him, you’d give him some dorky, flushed reply. The teasing goes back and forth, but really it’s just Shinsou prepping you for the real deal. For the real him. 

Maybe you’ll be ready when the time comes. 

═══ ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ sʜᴏᴛᴏ 

▹    todoroki is self-aware, but not to the extent of kirishima 

▹    he knows what he’s doing is wrong, he does, but he can’t help himself

▹    you’ve just... been so nice to him. offering to help him with classes, being a shoulder to cry on when he isn’t feeling his best, and you do it all with a smile 

▹    he can’t help but want to protect you, honestly 

▹    you just seem so fragile, compared to everyone else. so compassionate and considering of others 

▹    he knows that will be your downfall. just like his mother. 

▹    and he can’t stand the thought of losing you 

▹    he’s awkward. he won’t approach you unless necessary but hates when anyone else talks to you

     ══

Todoroki watched from the corner of the classroom, expression neutral. You scrunch your nose at something Bakugou says, before ruffling his hair in an endearing fashion and retreating just before he can catch your wrist- ducking out of his reach when he swipes at you and laughing when he attempts to take another dive. 

Aizawa lays slumped behind his desk, asleep and unbothered by the noise that surrounds him, and Todoroki wishes he’d wake up and tell everyone to sit down and shut up. Todoroki doesn’t like the way Bakugou looks at you. The way his stare lingers on your hips and thighs, or the way you seem to bask in his attention. 

It’s almost unfair. You should be touching him like that. You should be teasing him like that. 

Perhaps soon you will.

[kookoosbunnynose]

Pairing -> Officer!Reader x BadBoy!Jungkook (ft. Reader x Yoongi)

Genre -> Angst | Smut | Fluff

Rating -> Mature (18+)

Word Count -> 14.5k

Playlist -> Looks Red, Tastes Blue

Warnings -> Major Character Death | Grief | Poor Coping Mechanisms | Mentions of Alcohol Abuse | Mentions of Smoking (tobacco) | Unrequited Love | Emotional Constipation | Explicit Sexual Content | Unprotected Sex (stay safe losers) | Oral (m/f receiving) | Dom/Sub Themes | Dirty Talk | Praise Kink | Sir Kink | He Spit in Ur Mouth | Brief Sex with Jimin | Should I Even Bother Putting Cursing?

Summary -> You meet an old friend under uncomfortable circumstances, he brings with him memories you’ve tried to forget for years. Your past becomes your future before you can catch your breath. 

Excerpt -> “But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.”

—————

“We have a 10-51 at The Red Eye on Main.” Your radio suddenly booms in your otherwise quiet vehicle, snapping you out of your trance-like state caused by watching a mostly empty intersection run through light cycles for the better part of an hour.

“10-4, I’m 76.” You answered, pausing briefly to assess your location in relation to the hole-in-the-wall bar. “10-77, three minutes.” You finish, setting down your mic and flipping your lights on.

When you first started this job, getting a call for a drunk and disorderly would send your heart into overdrive, cause your breathing to shallow and your hands to shake. Mind filling with possibilities of having to contain a violent man twice your size. But after learning the patterns of the locals in town, and learning your own capabilities, you barely batted an eye. You’d probably just have to give the crotchety town drunk a ride back home and scold him for making you do this for the upteenth time. No biggie.

You sped down the empty street with ease, you could drive this town with your eyes closed since you were fourteen. The street lights around you against the night sky making everything appear untouched and serene, only amplifying your obnoxious siren.

Three minutes, nearly on the dot, when you pull up to Red Eye, and much to your surprise you see a young man sitting on the curb with his forearms resting lazily on his knees waiting for your arrival. The less than impressed security guard stops glaring at him in favor of filling you in on what happened.

“Hi y/n.” the guard greets, making the man pick his head up to confirm his suspicions.

“Well, fancy seeing you on that side of the law.” He says making you take in a stiff breath at the familiar voice, one you haven’t heard in years.

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Jeon.” you say with a steady breath, being very well versed in not appearing as shaken as you are. And you are. But you fight the way your throat wants to close because you’re wearing your badge, and you’re not here to dive nose first into your past. You’re here to take statements and do an assload of paperwork.

“The kid has been pretty cooperative,” the guard continues when you turn your attention back towards him. “didn’t put up a fight when I escorted him out. He’s had one too many drinks and threw a punch at a guy, who has decided not to press charges. But I got his information before he left to tend to his busted lip, if you need to contact him.” he informs, handing you a napkin with the bar’s logo and shaky ink etched into it.

“Thank you, I’ll take him off your hands.” you say glancing at the man in question, he’s still watching you with the kind of smirk only alcohol can provide. “I’ll take him to the station to sober up and get his story.” he nods, stepping back but staying close just in case.

“Are you gonna get in the car quietly or do I have to use these?” you question, holding your cuffs up with a hooked finger.

“Don’t make me any promises you won’t keep, sweetheart.” he winks lamely. You roll your eyes, and open the back door of your car.

“Get in Jeon, I won’t ask twice.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he says, raising his hands in defense and standing to climb in your backseat.

You shut the door behind him and make your way around the vehicle, giving the guard a wave goodbye. If he had been anyone else making a remark like that would’ve landed them a pair of cuffs, but in all your years of knowing him, Jungkook has never given you a reason to feel unsafe with him.

He was pretty quiet on your drive back to the station allowing your mind to wander to the time you two last spoke.

That day the air was heavy and unforgiving on your lungs, that no matter how hard you tried never felt full. You were both dressed in black, heads hung low in mourning. Before you departed you gave each other a long hug, whispering ‘I’m sorry’s and sniffling together. Giving each other as much comfort as you could muster even though neither one of you believed it would be okay yourselves. The hug was meant to be one of condolence but shortly after you would come to learn that, unbeknownst to either of you, it was a goodbye as well.

You don’t know if it was because you were pulling up to the station or if it was because he could sense your thoughts but he decided to break the silence.

“The asshole had it coming.” He spoke bluntly, as you opened his door and walked him inside.

“What did he do that warranted a busted lip?” you asked, slightly exasperated but mostly curious.

“He was making a girl at the bar uncomfortable, she asked him to stop and he didn’t. I stepped in, he swung, I dodged, I clocked him in the mouth, and he fell down.” He recounted simply, almost bored. He hasn’t changed, still ready to throw a punch for anyone in need. Just like-

Your stern look softens. “Why didn’t you tell security he threw the first punch?”

“Would he have believed me? I’m sure I haven’t been gone long enough for half the town to forget my reputation.” He says sitting in the chair next to your desk and crossing his tattooed arms across his chest. Those are new. Well, most of them.

“I suppose not, but at least I could have it on record that you tried.”

“I told you, didn’t I?” he raises his brows.

“Yes, you did.” you relent, grabbing a breathalyzer from your drawer. “Blow.”

He takes the device from you and does as instructed, presumably choosing to keep some sexual comment to himself.

“A .05?” You blink. “I thought he said you drank too much.”

“Probably assumed since I decked a guy in a bar.” He shrugs.

“I suppose, but how annoying.” you say slightly bothered by the fact that he had to tell you everything, and security didn’t even bother to ask people who started it. He chuckles at you.

You start typing away on your report, his story, his blood alcohol level, etc.

“Do you wanna press charges? He did try to assault you.” you question, pausing your fingers.

“No, but I think that woman should.” you smile.

“Okay, I have all the info I need. You have two options.” you turn to him. “I can drive you home now, or I could get you some coffee and you wait here until you blow a .02 then I’ll take you back to your car.”

“I take option B.” he says, tapping the corner of your desk as if to lock in his answer. “I don’t want to have to go get it tomorrow.”

“I’ll go get your coffee.” you go to get the two of you some much needed liquid energy. Normally, you wouldn’t just leave someone who was brought in for assault without cuffing them to your desk or asking someone to watch them, but you know him, and normally people wouldn’t voluntarily choose to hang out in a police station for any longer than they needed to. Tonight is full of many things outside the norm.

As you sit back down back down with your drinks, Taehyung returns from patrol duty, and beelines for Seokjin’s desk.

“Tag you’re it.” he says, patting Jin’s back, making him flinch.

“Officer Kim, don’t sneak up on me.” He says puffing out his chest.

“My apologies, Officer Kim.” they laugh. 

You miss the way Tae looks over at you, and his smile drops when he sees who is at your desk.

You and Jungkook sip your coffee with a comfortable silence, neither of you wanting or needing to address his long absence yet, not while you’re filling out a report with his name on it.

A couple hours pass like this, with you doing various paperwork, and him scrolling on his phone or staring into space. Yep, definitely hasn’t changed.

“Alright Jeon, once more.” you say handing him the breathalyzer again.

He does.

.01, good.

“Let’s get you to your car.” you stand, and walk out into the crisp dawn air.

The ride back doesn’t leave your mind swimming as much as the first time. There’s still a sizable elephant in the room, but the tension isn’t as unbearable as you’d imagined it would be.

You pull your car next to his, allowing him to return home. “Thank you.” He half smiles, unsure if he should say ‘see ya later’ or not, but you had a feeling you would soon.   — You awoke later that same day, when the peachy light of the sunset was flowing through your windows. Your shift at the station usually ran from midnight to ten in the morning, meaning you usually slept through most of the day. Though you didn’t mind, you’ve always been a night owl, nothing a little vitamin D supplements can’t fix.

Groaning as you roll over in your mess of blankets to check your phone, you find exactly what you were expecting.

Jimin (7:48pm): In need of stress relief, Doll? ;)

You (8:13pm): God, yes. When you couldn’t meet up last week I thought I was gonna implode :(

Jimin (8:15pm): Aw, you missed me? Cute

You (8:16pm): Don’t flatter yourself Park. I missed your dick

Jimin (8:17pm): I’m hurt :(

You (8:19pm): I’ll be over in 40. Be ready, handsome ;)

Jimin (8:19pm): :)

You toss your phone on your bed and get up to take a shower, a little hop in your step at the prospect of receiving an orgasm by someone else’s hand. And Jimin always delivered.

You wash your hair quickly, more concerned about shaving your legs for the first time in two weeks. After you’ve dried off, you lotion and perfume like normal. You slip on a tank top and leggings, knowing that he is a big fan of your ass. You take your uniform with you as well so you can head straight to work after your weekly dick transaction.

When you’re making your short drive to Jimin’s you find your mind wandering to Jungkook. How your heart skipped a beat when you saw him sitting on that curb. How he’s lost all the baby fat he used to hold in his cheeks, but his eyes still crinkle when he smiles. How having him stand in front of you for the first time in five years confirmed your adolescence wasn’t in fact a pipe dream your mind had fabricated after you decided to change everything you could. How though he’s jaded and may not know it himself, he’s the same boy you’ve always known. And how he still reminded you of-

But now wasn’t time to dwell, you’ve done enough of that. Tonight is supposed to be about the exact opposite. Free of stress. Free of thoughts. Only a couple hours of animalistic need. Then you could go back to reality.

“Hello y/n.” Jimin greets with a smile after your knuckles rap against his door. “Do you wanna talk? Before we…”

“Not really.” you answer a little too fast, crossing the threshold of his apartment.

“Works for me.” he says, noticing that you’re seeking more of the benefits than the friends side of this deal.

Without another word his hands are on your hips and his lips are on your neck, walking you backwards until your back is flush with the door. Noticing that you’re not in the mood for as much foreplay as normal, he immediately grazes his teeth against that spot on your neck that makes you sigh into his ear.

He’s always been very good at reading you, perhaps that’s why you agreed to this little arrangement. You’re not sure exactly how the two of you ended up fucking in the first place. Definitely had something to do with your collective blood alcohol level at the time. But when all was said and done that first time he told you he’d be more than willing to make it a regular thing. To make your shoulders relax every so often and it’s not as if he didn’t get anything out of it. Neither of you were in the headspace for a relationship, so the easy access to orgasms, with no strings attached was ideal for all parties involved.

Not that you weren’t friends outside his bedroom as well. You guys would hangout pretty often just as friends. You were fortunate that the line between your regular dose of stress relief and the platonic love you had for one another never blurred. Jimin was special in that regard.

Your hands find the hem of his shirt and he takes the hint quickly pulling it over his head. You do the same, and his hands eagerly cup your breasts. He reattaches his lips to the sweet spot on your neck biting down harder this time causing a small whine to fall from your lips. He smirks against your skin and runs his tongue along your reddened skin to sooth it.

Not wanting to waste anymore time than necessary you grab his hand and walk him to his bedroom. Once inside you put your hands on his chest and give him a firm push until his knees meet the edge of his mattress and he falls against it with a small bounce. When he falls back you remove your leggings and underwear, he does the same matching your urgency.

You climb over him planting your knees on either side of his hips, grinding your increasingly wet slit up his stiff length.

“You got hard pretty fast.” you say breath tickling his cheek and he slides his palms up your thighs to your ass, gently kneading the flesh in his hands.

“You said be ready.” he says smoothly, pushing his hips up to add to the friction on your clit. The extra contact catching you off guard making you place your hands on his shoulders for extra balance.

You feel his breath hitch beneath you when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock to guide him to your entrance. You sit down a little slower than you want to due you being a little less wet than usual.

It was your doing, he would’ve been glad to work you up properly, but you were seeking a quick release. Caught somewhere between wanting to take your time so your escape will last longer and needing to reach the cloudy peak as quickly as possible, putting as much distance as you can between you and the thoughts that lay in the valley of your metaphorical mountain. Though it seems your body was choosing the latter for you.

You rock your hips against his, enjoying the way his cock drags against your g-spot, sending heat from your core to your toes. You pick up your pace a little allowing yourself to let go as much as you can, jaw going slack and eyes closing tightly. Jimin groans at the sight, reaching up to toy with your pert nipples.

A light layer of sweat forms over both of your bodies, heating the room like a makeshift furnace. A furnace made of hot skin and moans instead of fire.

You increase the speed of your hips on his until your thighs start to burn, the dull ache in your limbs only adding to the fiery one in your pelvis. Your pants grow louder as your end is nearly in sight.

“Jimin,” you gasp with a mouth like cotton. “I need more.”

Your request straight to the point, he moves his hands to your hips, rubbing your clit one thumb and using his other hand to keep you in place while he thrusts up to meet yours roughly.

“Umph- fuck!” your voice cracks as you fall onto his chest, curling your fingers into his hair and pulling to keep you grounded as your orgasm rips through you.

Jimin groans deeply in your ear, you can tell how your fists in his hair and your walls clenching around him brought him to his end by how desperate his thrusts became. You can feel his cock pulsing as he coats your core with his cum.

You both lay like that for a few moments, his softening dick still tucked safely within you and labored breaths creating a fog around your heads.

“Can I use your shower? I don’t wanna go to work smelling of sex.” you ask and he chuckles against your shoulder.

“By all means.”

“Thank you.” you say, for both the shower and the sex.

He grabs your hand when you go to stand from the damp fabric of his bed. “Are you alright?” he decides to pry for the first time tonight. “You haven’t been that down to business since that fight with your mom a few months ago.” he says, concern laced in his features.

“Yeah.” you begin unsure. “Just, something happened last night that brought up some memories.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he treads lightly, knowing what that statement could mean.

“I’ll be okay. You let me turn off my brain for a minute.” you smile and kiss his cheek.

“Happy to help. I’m here if you need anything.” he says with a stupid wink. Though you know he doesn’t just mean sex. Jimin has been a shoulder for you to cry on as long as you’ve known each other. You’ve always been there for him as well. A mutual understanding that you can come to each other for anything.

“I know, thank you Minie.” — You take a deep breath and run your hands through your hair, cursing the clock above the captain’s doorway that ticks just too loud for you to think. You blink a few times, your eyes struggling to focus on the text on your computer screen. You’re relieved when the phone on your desk starts to ring.

“Hello this is Officer l/n.” you say putting the phone to your ear, unfortunately excited about someone being in distress, but you’re about five minutes of screen time away from getting a migraine.

“Hello Miss l/n, this is Mrs. Choi,” here we go again. “I was wondering if you could send an officer to the house across the street? I think I saw some hoodlums trespassing.” and there it is.

“Of course Mrs. Choi,” you hold back a lengthy exhale. “I’ll go check it out, myself. Did you happen to see anything that could provide a description?”

“I’m afraid not dear, I only saw some trees rustling.” ah yes, the wind. Nature’s trespasser.

“Okay, I’ll take a look. Anything to help you sleep better at night, ma’am.” you smile as sweetly as you can despite her not being able to see you.

“Thank you Miss l/n.” she says promptly ending the call.

You let your breath out fully for the first time since the interaction began. And try your best to ignore how tense it makes you when she always calls you ‘Miss’ but calls all your male coworkers ‘Officer.’ You once put Jin in a choke-hold over a granola bar, you’re more than capable of holding your own, but that’s neither here nor there. Really.

“Mrs. Choi again?” Tae asks peering around the filing cabinet between your desks.

“The one and only.” you state. “She ordered the usual; someone to check the old abandoned house across from hers.”

“Well maybe if someone didn’t break into that place all the time in high school.” he says looking anywhere but at you.

“And now I’m the one who has to get rid of them. The world goes round, balance is restored. Hooray.“ you say feigning awe, he chuckles.

“Hey, I know how you are about that old place, do you want me to check it out for you?” Tae asks his expression morphing into worry.

“I got it, I’m okay. I need to stretch my legs anyway. But thank you Tae, really.” for the first few months you were a cop, you couldn’t even take the patrol route the old house was on without crying. He was always really nice about taking care of it for you. Officer Kim, always ready to jump in at a sign of distress, perhaps why he’s so good at his job.

“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind.” you hum an affirmative as you exit the building.

Though the bubble of anxiety in your stomach grows as you approach the run down house, it doesn’t spill out as tears anymore. You’ve come to accept this is as healed as your wounds will get.

You unlock the chain on the gate and make your way to the front door, knocking harshly before opening it.

“Police! Come out now and I won’t tell your moms what you’ve been doing!” you shout into the empty house. You’re sure the house is empty because every time there has been a few teens in here you can hear them run before you can even shout ‘police!’ but, you still need to do a walk through just in case.

Your cautious steps make the floorboards creak below you, the smell alone flooding your mind with memories.

There’s a sliding glass door in the back, that’s long since been shattered, where you used to sit and get a perfect view of the stars for hours with your first, and thus far only, love. 

Your mind wanders to when you used to play music off your phones and slow dance in the living room, skillfully avoiding the gaps in the old wood floor. It’s truly a wonder this place hasn’t been torn down yet, but you’re thankful, you don’t know if you could bear to see it go.

As you make your way down the dark hallway you get a small craving for a cigarette, having quit years ago now, but you can almost feel the dry paper on your lips as you make your way to the last bedroom in the house. You pause at the door.

Your eyes scan until they reach the corner of the room, pausing at the small carving in the wall. Your breath catches for the briefest of seconds when step close to it, tracing the heart with your fingers, careful to not get any splinters. Your fingers continue their journey, tracing the initials at its center with care.

Y/I + YG

“Babe! Angel! C’mere!” Yoongi’s smile beamed, gums and all.

“What?! What did you need to interrupt my sandwich eating to show me?” you follow his voice slightly annoyed, though you wondered why he disappeared for a few minutes, leaving you to munch in solitude. You had met here for a picnic, not uncommon for the two of you during the summer. He brought a blanket and you brought the burgers. You set up the picnic in the living room, with summer sun’s rays spilling through the old cracked windows, it’s a lot more beautiful than sitting in the middle of an abandoned house sounds.

“Look!” he says gesturing to the freshly carved wood on the wall, tucking his trusty knife back in his pocket.

“God, you’re so lame.” you smile and walk over to him. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in close to admire his handy work.

“If I’m lame it’s your fault.” me chuckles running his hand through your hair. “I suppose, loving you makes me this way.” he hums jokingly.

“I never said it was a bad thing.” you look up at him, admiring the way the sun makes his bleached hair glow.

“You know I do right?” his tone drops a bit and his eyes search yours. “I love you.”

“Of course I know.” he only tells you everyday, yet you never tire of hearing it. You study his face, the slope of his nose and the little mole right next to it. His pink petal lips, that despite his reputation, you don’t know how anyone could be weary of a man with such beautifully delicate features. And his dark eyes that lighten only when he looks at you.

His gums return. He tilts your chin up to gently connect your lips. He tastes of the chocolate milkshake he drank not long ago, and you hum against his mouth.

“I love you too.”

The memory shifts, to one five months later.

“I love you too, angel.” his chilled lips peck yours, as he starts to climb out your bedroom window. The winter air makes you shiver when a gust of wind blows against your skin, with only your pajamas to keep you warm. Sometimes you’d sneak him overnight but with the first day back to school being tomorrow, it was too risky. If your mom caught him here again she’d have some choice words for the two of you, but she is a heavy sleeper, so as long as he left at a decent hour, nothing to worry about.

He hops down, his boots packing the snow beneath them when he lands. His head now a bit below yours as you lean out your first story window.

“Text me when you get home!” you remind him as he starts the small trek back to his car.

“Always!” he whisper-shouts back before disappearing around the side of your house.

You gaze up at the moon and take in a deep breath, trying to decide if the frozen air is refreshing or sharp on your lungs. You don’t take the time to figure it out before your window is shut and the air in your room feels hot against your cheeks.

You curl up in bed, and decide to scroll your various socials until your eyes get heavy.

You blink to help your eyes focus on the text on your screen, and decide to call it a night. You flick your eyes over to check the time.

2:30 am? Yoongi left at 2:00 and still no text? He’s always really good about telling you he got home, though he has forgotten a few times, no one is perfect.

“I’ll wait til he texts, he probably stopped for gas.” you mumble to no one.

2:45 am. You decide to text him.

You (2:46am): Love, did you make it home alright?

You (3:15am): I’m sure you just fell asleep.

You hit send trying to convince the panic knotting your stomach.

“He’s forgotten before, why am I freaking out so much?” you mumble to yourself rubbing your eyes. “I’ll just call him.”

My Love missed your call (3:23am)

My Love missed your call (3:35am)

My Love missed your call (3:42am)

“It’s Yoongi, leave your message after the beep.”

“Hi, I know that you’re probably just sleeping, and you’re gonna tell me that you’re fine in the morning.” you push out a laugh trying not to cry. “But I just can’t shake this feeling, so please please call me as soon as you wake up. I love you.”

My Love missed your call (4:01am)

You sit there staring at your phone in your hands, for a few minutes watching the clock on your screen change. Still nothing.

“Alright, fuck it.” you huff and grab your boots, shoving your feet in them and throwing on your jacket. You grab your keys and get in your car, you dial his number again while you start the engine, the route to his house flashing through your mind.

The dial tone in your ear stops ringing. “Thank fuck Yoongi!” the tears you’ve been holding back start to spill in relief. “You scared the-”

“This is Officer Jung.” a deep voice rings in your ear and your blood runs cold.

“What’s going on? What happened?” you ask frantic, the panic in your lungs turning into fire, the air feeling too thick to swallow.

“Ma’am, Min Yoongi was involved in an incident.” he says attempting to make his voice resemble something close to comfort. “The snow caught his tire and hi-”

“Is he okay?” you try to yell but your throat is closing.

“His car was pulled into a ditch, he-.”

“Is he fucking okay?!” your voice cracks and so does the dam holding back your tears.

“He didn’t make it.”

Your heart skips in a way you didn’t know it could, your body instantly too weak to hold itself or anything else. Your phone falls to the floor and your body falls against your steering wheel. You think you’re screaming but who can be sure with the ringing in your ears echoing in your skull. Your vision is blurred and your cheeks are wet. You were shivering when you climbed in your car but your skin has gone numb.

You don’t know how long you were crying in your car but by the time you were able to collect yourself enough to walk back to your bed your phone had no charge, and the sun had begun to rise.

When you finally turned your phone back on, you were flooded with people asking if you were okay, most of them you didn’t even know. After scrolling through your list of unopened texts, you answered only the one from his little brother.

Gukkie (7:38am): You okay?

You (8:44am): No

Gukkie (8:45am): Yeah, me either.

Now the ache is dull and the memories are faded. The anger and hurt that used to filter them turns more rosy as time goes on. And as with most wounds, there are scars. Love runs deep and Min Yoongi was your deepest river and your deepest cut.

You finish tracing the divots in the wood and smile bittersweetly. You place a kiss on the tips of your first and second fingers, you touch them to his initials and take a deep breath.

You let that breath go slowly as you walk out of the house, careful not to step on any of the less stable floor panels. Your lungs finally empty when you reach the gate where you can not-so-metaphorically lock up your past. — “Did you really need to cuff me?” you hear a familiar voice huff from behind you.

“Yes I did.” Tae grunts, you turn to see him holding Jungkook by the elbow before he  plops him down in the seat next to his desk.

“Alright, you’re the boss.” he says somewhere between sarcasm and defeat. He attempts to shift into a comfortable position, his cuffs against the metal chair hitting your ears in a less than pleasant way.

Jungkook glances your way and gives you a small nod when you catch eyes, and you do your best to pretend you meant to be staring at him. Though you’re sure he’s probably just as tense as you are. Police stations aren’t exactly the best place for a reunion. Especially twice.

“Name.” Taehyung states in a business-like tone.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Date of birth.” September first, 1997.

“September first, 1997.”

“Address.” 5235 west- shit I’m eavesdropping.

You shift in your seat and refocus on what you were doing before they came in. You try to at least.

Seokjin returns from his patrol route, entering the room the same as he always does, as loud as possible. “Tag you’re it!” he says with a childlike smile as he pats Tae on the shoulder.

“I’m kinda busy.” he gestures to Jungkook and his computer screen.

“I can take care of the report for you.” you butt in before you can think about the fact that you’re speaking. Tae slides his chair to your desk to get out of the other’s ear shot. “Do you really wanna deal with him? I know you’re not a big fan.” you lower your voice.

“Yeah, you have a point.” He thinks for a second, looking over at the man in question and grimacing slightly. “You sure?”

“Of course, I took care of him last week.” you say matter of factly. “And years before that.” you add after a beat. He nods in agreement, and grabs his jacket. “Change in plans Guk,” he smiles at the nickname he hasn’t heard from you in a long time. “You’re with me, Officer Kim has other business he needs to attend to.”

“Oh does he?” Jungkook mutters under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. He gets up from Tae’s desk and shuffles over to yours, his shoulders releasing slightly.

Without saying anything you unlock his wrists and set the cuffs on your desk, he rubs his skin a little too dramatically and you smile when he sits back in the chair looking more relaxed.

“Thank you.” Jungkook smiles. You miss the way Tae scowls at your gesture as he walks out of the building.

You start filing out the basics without question, as you know all the answers. He sits there tracing the walls with his eyes, far less entertaining than last week having already memorized the lack luster wallpaper.

“Alright Guk, what happened this time?” you say after a couple minutes.

“I didn’t fucking do anything.” he says widening his eyes clearly frustrated but not at you.

“It appears you did.” you say accusing him playfully.

“Seriously.” he relaxes a little. “I went to Red Eye again, I was minding my own business.” he points his finger at you in preemptive defense. “The same guy from last week-”

“The one whose face you busted?” you quip.

He stops, mouth slightly agape. “Yes, that one.”

“Continue.” you smirk and he glares at you slightly.

“I was sitting at the bar, he came up and started saying he could kick my ass for what I did. I told him to forget about it cause I wasn’t gonna fight him. He said I may look tough now but I’m still the same sixteen year old I was before everything. I got in his face, no fists mind you, and told him to fuck off. The security saw us yelling and told us we needed to leave, and I refused because I had done nothing wrong. He told me he would call the cops and the other guy left, but I sat my ass back down, cause The Man has never stopped me before. And bingo bango, Officer Pretty Boy cuffs me and I’m here.”

“You just can’t get rid of that rep of yours, can you?” you soften.

“I’m used to it, and it’s nothing I didn’t do to myself.” he shrugs. “Besides, I’d rather be feared than pitied.” his voice lowers, and your heart twinges.

“I don’t fear or pity you.” he smiles, not one of those smiles that’s big and all teeth, but one that’s small and warm. Jungkook had this way of saying everything he needed without speaking a word.

Silence falls over you while you finish writing the report. He didn’t do anything other than disturb the peace for a moment, no need for punishment harsher than a slap on the wrist.

“Ow!” he rubs his arm. “What the fuck was that for?” he questions, his brows furrow.

“It was a slap on the wrist.” you shrug. “You didn’t do anything that requires a fine or jail time, so you get a warning.”

“Aren’t you taking that a tad too literal?” he chuckles.

“I don’t think so.” you fight a smile. “I don’t wanna see you with flashing lights near you again unless you catch fire. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” he playfully salutes, but he knows you’re serious.

“Would you like a ride back to your car?”

“I can walk, that’s not necessary.” he says standing up and waving you off.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, the air will do me good.” his feet stutter. “Would you maybe want to get coffee on Wednesday? I didn’t imagine our reunion going quite like this.” he lets out a breathy laugh.

“I’d love that.” your eagerness to accept surprises you, and given the way he lights up, you surprise him too. — You mindlessly push the noodles you’ve been eating around on your plate letting the sound of other tables’ utensils clinking and your mother ramble on about her book club’s latest ventures buzz lowly in your head as you hum vague responses.

“… Jeon Jungkook moved back to town.” the mention of the name snaps you back into reality.

“What about Jungkook?” you ask, now at full attention.

“Have you heard he moved back to town?” she looks at you expectantly.

“I- um. I thought I saw him in the grocery store the other day, but I assumed I was seeing things.” you say keeping your voice as steady as possible.

“His mother is absolutely over the moon about it.” she says, wholly missing your lie as she was too excited at the prospect of telling you the latest gossip. Small town doesn’t leave one with much else to do.

“I’m sure she is.” you say and your chest can’t help but warm at the thought of Mrs. Jeon being so excited to see her son after he’s been gone for three years.

“She’s so happy he finally gave up on that god awful garage band.” she says, relief filling her face, and you roll your eyes. You had nearly forgotten he went to the city to make it big, you hadn’t ever doubted them, his voice alone was label worthy. “What were they called again? Red appendix?”

You blink. “Crimson Heart?” you offer her, knowing full well you’re correct.

“Ah right! That’s the one.” she says laughing at the, admittedly edgy, name. “I’m so glad he’s cleaning up his act, I expected better of him.” she adds, shaking her head. Your shoulders tense at her statement.

“Did you hear Jeon Jungkook got busted for spray painting the movie theater?” your mom questions as she leans on your door frame. Your face buried in some book you didn’t know the name of, as long as it had words in it. Mind numbing words.

“Um, no mom. I didn’t.” you mumble clearly uncomfortable with the subject. It was summer now, about six months since that night. The cold unforgiving weather that changed your world in an instant long since melted away, and as free as summer used to make you feel, it just feels hot and bitter against your skin.

“It just makes me sad, I expected better for him.” her voice solemn, clearly not ready to let the topic go.

You couldn’t muster a response that wasn’t yelling or trying to reason with her, which would get you nowhere.

“I never understood why you couldn’t have chosen the good brother.”

Your fingers clench around your book wrinkling the pages. She’d said that for years but sting you felt this time was far deeper.

“He was so studious and stayed out of trouble, but it looks like I was wrong.” she says, appearing more upset that her judgment was off, rather than the obvious issue at hand.

“Can we please not talk about them.” you plead softly, fighting your closing throat and watering eyes.

“Honey, I know you miss him, but look how much better you’re doing now! You’re reading for pleasure.” I’m reading so I can’t think. “You raised your GPA up almost a whole point before the year ended.” My test scores are the same, I just did my homework. “And I haven’t found cigarettes under your bed in months!” She seems most excited about that one. I’ll give her the smoking, they don’t fill my lungs the same way they used to. How can they when I can’t catch my breath?

Her attempt at comfort doing nothing but reminding you that you can’t be who you want to be anymore. You’d become someone who does any trivial task they can as not to spend too much time alone with their thoughts. Instead of someone who didn’t give a shit, did what they wanted to do, and most importantly had their love by their side. “Yeah, I guess not smoking anymore is good.”

“You know I always rooted for you two.” your mom says, her smile mischievous.

“I know, you always told me he was the ‘good brother’.” you try to conceal your eye roll at the same conversation you’ve had with her a million times.

“Before you and Yoongi got together, too.” she adds.

“What?” now this surprised you.

“His mom and I used to talk about how cute you’d be when you were all in elementary.” she remembers fondly.

You try to respond but you’re too shocked that her infatuation with Jungkook went past him being ‘so close yet so far.’

“Anywho, I just hope he can find the boy he used to be.” she hums.

You agree, but for largely different reasons. Your chest blooms at the thought of a smiling Jungkook.

“So do I, mom.” — Jimin (6:37pm): Hey Doll, in need of extra McLovin after lunch with The Wicked Witch of the West?

You (6:45pm): Actually, I feel okay Minie, but thank you

You (6:46pm): I’m doing better

Jimin (6:53pm): I’m proud of you, beautiful

You (7:04pm): Me too — When you walk into the coffee shop a few minutes before you were supposed to meet you’re surprised to see Jungkook already sitting at a small table by the wall of large windows with two cups of coffee placed in front of him.

“Hey Guk.” you sit down, shoulders relaxing.

“I got your old order, I hope that’s okay.” he smiles nervously.

“How the hell did you remember that?” you gasp, taking a long sip from your cup.

“You’ve had a caffeine addiction since you were like fourteen, and you practically lived at my house.” he chuckled.

“I suppose you’re right.” you nod in agreement and take another sip, the drink making your taste buds dance.

“Listen,” Jungkook begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I want to apologize for the whole you arresting me twice thing.” he hesitates.

“Technically, I didn’t arrest you the second time.” you correct with a smile, trying to ease his obvious guilt.

“Still.” his voice insistent, almost stern. “That isn’t exactly how I wanted us to meet again after five years. It didn’t feel right to not fix it.” his face seeking the approval that his apology did, in fact, fix it.

“There was nothing to fix really, Guk. But thank you.” you soften. “I don’t think of you any different. How could I, given my past?” he chuckles at that. “And you got the shit end of the stick in both situations. I still know you’d never do anything truly bad, you’re all bark and no bite.”

“Oh, you don’t think I can bite?” he tongues the inside of his cheek smugly.

“Would you shut up?” his face shifts immediately, his eyes crinkling. “I’m serious.” you groan, but the heat threatening your cheeks and ears contradicts you. Well, that’s odd. Anyway.

“Okay.” he says after a beat. “C’mon y/n, I know you’re dying to know why I came back. Just ask.” he states, less than smoothly steering the conversation.

“Why would I wonder about you inexplicably reappearing after three years of nearly zero contact with anyone? It hasn’t crossed my mind at all.” your mouth laced with sarcasm.

“You think you’re so funny.” he squints. “I am.” you wave him off. “Alright, spill Rockstar, since you want to so bad. Why’d you give up living it up in the city to come back to all this?”

“Actually.” he laughs. “They kicked me out of the band like two years ago.”

You blink. “What? Why would they kick out their only talent?” you say screwing your brow in offense.

He nearly chokes on his coffee. He sputters trying to catch his breath, wiping his mouth on this arm. “Thank you.” he clears his throat. “But they were definitely better off without me.”

“How do you figure?”

“I wasn’t in the best place when the guys and I moved over there, for obvious reasons.” you nod. “I was getting black out drunk every other night. And writing songs that were just, not good. The kind of sad that isn’t relatable anymore, it was just painful and would make the crowds go silent.”

You grab his hand wishing you could’ve been there when he really needed it, but now will have to do. He smiles.

“The last straw though, was one night I got absurdly drunk right before a gig, and I thought I could handle it because I had been tipsy on stage before. They told me not to but I didn’t listen, and when I got to the song that I wrote about Yoongi, I just broke down sobbing on stage. I was embarrassed so I just fucked off out of the venue and kept running until I didn’t recognize where I was anymore.”

“Guk, I’m so sorry.” you squeeze his hand, and he rubs his inked thumb over you knuckles to tell you not to worry.

“No it’s okay, the guys found me the next morning, passed out in a Denny’s.” he chuckles stiffly. “They brought me home and told me that I needed to get help, they didn’t want to watch me self-destruct anymore, and at the time I was hurt but I’m grateful. It still took me a fucking while to work up the courage to come home, but if I didn’t have anyone tell me to try, I don’t think I’d be home now.” his expression turned from bitter to sweet as he recounted his story.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too.” he smiles, the stars in his eyes multiplying when he looks at you. “My dumbass fifteen year old self thought if I went dark side I could fill the hole he left, but I didn’t know what dark side really looked like until it was too late. Then it just became something I told myself so I didn’t have to face the fact that I was doing shitty shit.”

“You sound like you’ve taken a lot of time to reflect.” you say impressed.

“Limiting your alcohol intake to a normal human level will do that to you.” he chuckles.

“My dumbass sixteen year old self wasn’t much better, arguably worse.” you counter. “I thought if I got rid of everything in my life that reminded me of him, I could force myself to forget.” your face falls slightly. “Which is worse? Diving in head first or turning your back entirely?” you push out a sound that’s supposed to be laugh.

“I think both are pretty fucking miserable.” you both laugh, he gives you reassuring look. “But, tragic backstory aside. I wanted to come home to face the music and make amends with my mom.”

“My mom told me she’s very happy you’re home.” you can’t help but feel her relief.

“Yeah, I really put her through hell.” his guilt present in his expression.

“But you’re here now, aren’t you?” he relaxes, his gaze fixed on yours for a moment. There’s those stars again.

He blinks, snapping his attention to his coffee. “I’m gonna get a refill” he says, disconnecting your hands, that you had forgotten you were holding, to tap his empty cup on the table. “Do you want another?”

“Yes please.” you say turning to rummage in your bag for a few dollars to give him, but when you turn around he’s already in line. You deflate setting the cash in front of you.

Your eyes wander around the cafe, inspecting the comforting eclectic vibe it produced. Your gaze stops on Jungkook standing in line, studying how his features have changed, how he has grown a few inches, his shoulders have broadened and how you can see the way his bicep flexes ever so slightly when he takes the coffee from the barista. What the fuck? Did I just check him out?

You inhale sharply, turning your focus on anything happening on the street outside the window.

When he’s seated back in front of you, you slide the small bills in his direction. He promptly slides them back towards you and you glare at him.

“When did you get so hell-bent on being nice?” he smiles.

You scrunch your brows and drop your jaw. “What do you mean? I’ve always been nice?” you question in defense and he laughs.

“You used to make fun of me all the time.” he states, crossing his arms.

“I mean yeah, but like in a sibling banter type way.” you frown. “Did you really think I was trying to bully you?”

“No!” he reassures. “I mean it kinda sucked because…” he trails off and takes a sip of his coffee in an attempt to abandon his sentence.

“Because?” You’re not getting away that easy.

“You know it’s funny.” he breathes. “I used to have a huge crush on you.” he admits nervously.

“And?” you blink.

“And?” he echos. “No reaction? Not even a slight inhale?”

“I knew, Gukkie.” you break as softly as you can.

Now it’s his turn to be surprised. “You did?” his furrows his brows in offense.

“We both did.” you laugh lightly. “Why do you think Yoongi left an obnoxious amount of hickies on my neck?” you can’t help but cringe a little at the memory.

“That asshole!” Jungkook’s jaw drops, and you snort. “I just thought you were normal slutty teenagers.”

“I didn’t say we weren’t.” you add trying to contain your laughter at the attention his outburst brought you.

He throws you an accusatory squint. “You guys suck.” — “You didn’t need to walk me back to work.” you beam at Jungkook as you walk through the doors of the station. “I don’t need protection.”

“I know you don’t.” he defends. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.” you laugh.

“What did he do this time?” Taehyung chimes in loudly from his desk.

You turn to face him. “Nothing, we just got coffee and caught up.”

His expression remains bitter and unconvinced. You opt for brushing him off.

“Thank you, Gukkie.” you smile when you turn back to Jungkook.

“No, you.” he says, patting your hair affectionately before he exits.

You stand at your desk, shifting various papers to pick up where you left off when you see Taehyung approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“What the fuck, y/n?” he asks angrily, and you widen your eyes in confusion.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

“Listen, I get it.” he ignores you. “You let him off easy a couple times because you have history together or whatever. But now you’re going on a date with him?” he accuses.

“Tae, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he scoffs, and your jaw tenses. “I would never slack on my job. And that most definitely was not a date.” your words sharp, hoping you’ll get him to drop whatever bullshit this is.

“Then why would you let him go both times?” he crosses his arms waiting impatiently for a response.

“I didn’t ‘let him go,’ because we had no reason to keep him. It’s not illegal to defend yourself or to be a bit of a stubborn ass.” you defend, raising your voice. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sure okay.” Tae says, clearly annoyed averting his gaze from you.

“I trust him, and you should trust me Taehyung. Why are you being like this?” your voice falling slightly. “Because, I care about you, and the kid is bad news. Do you not remember all that shit he pulled at the end of high school before he took off for several years? He can just show up and everything is heart eyes and open arms?” he says trying to convince you but all it does is make your blood boil.

“I appreciate your concern,” you bite. “But you don’t know him.” He shakes his head letting out a stiff laugh. “Figures you wouldn’t be able to read him, you always did know how to pick ‘em.” “What the fuck, is that supposed to mean?” you say all but seeing red, trying but failing not to yell.

He tongues his cheek and turns to walk back to his desk, very much done with the subject, but you were far from it.

“No!” you say following him. “You can’t just say that and then walk away. Explain yourself.” “I don’t know what the fuck is going on out here but it’s going to end right now.” Captain Kim Namjoon says sternly from his office doorway, arms crossed tight on his chest. “Our apologies, Sir.” you say, both of you bowing at him.

“Y/n, you look frazzled, go home and walk it off.” he offers pointing at the door. “Captain, we’ll drop it. I-” “It wasn’t a suggestion, Officer y/l.” he interrupts. “I expect you’ll be better tomorrow.” his voice a little softer now.

“Yes, Sir.” you bow again, and turn on your heals quickly, avoiding Tae entering your line of vision.

You white knuckle your steering wheel your whole drive home, you’re probably speeding but you can’t be bothered to check. What are you gonna do? Get pulled over?

When your car is parked, you fish your phone out of your pocket. You pull up Jungkook’s contact and your finger hovers over the call button for a second, but you can’t bring yourself to press it with him having been so happy when you two parted less than an hour ago. You opt for seeking comfort from someone else.

You (3:32pm): I need you

Jimin (3:35pm): I’m off in an hour <3 — Your chest rises and falls rapidly while you stare at Jimin’s ceiling, waiting for the normal relief that settles after you two have sex.

But even after you’ve caught your breath you still don’t feel it, the sweat covering your body starting to feel less like afterglow and more like guilt. Why won’t my chest unknot? We’ve hate-fucked countless times. What’s different?

You brush it off shaking your head in the hopes you can trick yourself into feeling normal, before you stand up to gather your clothes. You shudder at how sticky your skin feels against itself as you button up your shirt.

You decide some fresh air would do you good, and you open his bedroom window and take a breath and let the flowers outside fill your nose.

“You okay, beautiful?” Jimin’s voice sounds from behind you. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” you say before you can fully register what you’re saying. You turn to him, his towel hanging lowly on his hips and the hand tousling his damp hair stops in its tracks, his eyes widen. “Is the sex not good anymore? I thought you liked it when I bit your ass.” he chuckles through his worry. His joke makes you soften a little. “No, it’s not anything you did.” you say walking over to hold his hands. “Remember how I said I was doing better?” he nods, his worry fades into a smile. “Turns out that’s more true than I thought it was.” you say and as the words leave your mouth, your body finds that relief it was looking for. Feeling like, for the first time in forever you don’t need to escape your own mind for a minute to function. “Is there a guy?” he quirks a mischievous brow. “Are you ready to be monogamous?” he gasps dramatically. You shove his shoulder while he giggles. “No guy, I just…” you think for a moment. “Don’t need to forget anymore.” you breathe, lungs feeling lighter, and he smiles brightly.

He hugs you tightly. “I really am proud of you, y/n.” he says into your hair. You smile against his shoulder. “Me too.”

You break the hug and he frowns slightly. “Guess it’s you and me for a while now bud.” he says looking at his palm.

“Jimin, I just had an emotional epiphany, and it only took you two seconds to be gross again?” “That’s why you love me.” he laughs trying to give you another hug. You laugh, pushing him by the shoulders. “Fuck off, Park.” — The sun hits your skin warming it despite the cool breeze, music playing your ears as your feet keep a steady rhythm against the pavement below you. Your late morning jog becoming more of a nature walk with the changing seasons. The greenery returning and the sweet smell it provides makes your limbs feel a bit lighter. You nearly throw a punch when someone starts jogging next to you. You stumble slightly after you nearly run into a sign. When you pull your ear buds out he’s laughing at you.

“Careful there.” Jungkook laughs, continuing to match your pace. “You scared the fuck out of me.” you huff steadying yourself. “What are you doing?” “Um-” He looks at you and then his feet. “Jogging?”

“Astute observation,” you smile in spite of yourself. “I mean why are you following me, creep?” you laugh. “I was jogging on the other side of the street and when I saw you I thought I’d join.” he shrugs. “I guess that’s allowed.” Neither of you talks for a few minutes, nothing but your shoes fitting the sidewalk and your heavy breaths filling your ears.

Normally with a silence like this your mind would shuffle through the files of your mind, bringing a similar memory to the forefront, good or bad. But you come up blank. You inhale deeply deciding to file this under ‘Something New.’

“Are you getting tired?” He asks. “No?”

“Good.” he smiles and tries to wink before he picks up his pace, pulling ahead of you. “A race? What are you, twelve?” you laugh running faster.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over me winning!” he calls over his shoulder, and you groan at the considerable distance he’s put between you.

“You’re an asshole!” you pick up your speed fully running ahead of him.

You laugh and chase each other halfway across town, if you could see how you look you would probably be embarrassed, but you can’t be bothered to think about anything but the wind hitting your face and the idiot you’re running with.

He stops in front of a small market, and contrary to how you struggle to catch your breath, your lungs feel fuller than they have in years.

“Do you wanna get ice cream?” he questions, eyeing the banner in the store window.

“Won’t that negate all the exercise we just did?” you breathe, wiping sweat off your forehead. “And?” “You make a strong argument.” you say pushing the door to the corner store open and sighing when the air condition hits you like a refreshing wall. You walk straight to the large freezer to pick out your respective flavors.

You wordlessly decide to walk home in favor of more running, talking about nothing between bites of your cold treats, and you can’t help but think the flowers smell a little sweeter. — You have more work to catch up on than you normally do, you opt for having lunch at your desk so you can work through your break. You have your lunch to your side as your fingers click away on your keyboard.

Something being placed gently on your desk draws your attention away from your screen. You look over too a coffee cup with ‘I’m sorry’ written on it and with a sheepish looking Tae with his hand still wrapped around it. “I’m sorry.” he says looking guilty. “Tae-”

“I acted like a complete ass the other day.” he interrupts before you can even fully think of a response. “Well I won’t argue with that.” you soften and he looks the slightest bit relieved. “I just care about you, and I don’t trust him.” he reiterates his statement from a few days prior.

“This apology was going so well.” you half laugh.

“But!” he adds quickly. “But, I trust you. And if you trust him, then that’s good enough for me.” he says with large eyes, nudging the coffee toward you in the hopes you’ll accept his regret. “Thank you, Tae.” you say taking a sip of the bittersweet drink, appreciating his sincerity. Truth be told, you had already begun to forgive him, he just wants you to be happy. If he expresses his concerns in a less assholistic way next time, you’d be happy to listen. “And I won’t stand in your way if you want to date him.” he smiles. “Like you could, I can kick your ass Kim.” you laugh. “And what is it with you and us dating? I promise you, it’s not like that.”

“Awfully defensive for someone who has no reason to be.” he eyes you with a stupid smirk.

“I just forgave you, don’t push it.” you point a finger and he raises his hands in defense though he doesn’t drop the taunting smirk on his face. He walks backwards to his desk and sits in his chair giving you a nod as one last confirmation that you’ve forgiven him. You continue your work, the air feeling light in the station for the first time since your fight. So focused on your pile of tasks you don’t even notice it’s dark out until the phone rings and makes you look up from your computer.

“Hello, this is Officer y/l.”

“Hello dear, this is Mrs. Choi.” she says sweetly. It’s like clockwork with this fucking lady. “Could you possibly send an officer to this side of town? I saw a young man in a black hoodie hop the fence to the old place.” Well that is far more description than usual.

“Of course, I’ll go make sure everything is okay.” you reassure.

“It’s appreciated as always, Miss y/n.” she says before she hangs up.

“Mrs. Choi?” Tae asks lazily, not even lifting his eyes from his computer.

“Yep.” you say tossing your jacket on.

“Do you want me to check on it?” now he’s looking at you, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“No, I’ll be fine.” you smile. More than fine this time.

Your drive to the old house feels way more like a normal patrol than it ever has, the air feeling like a fog has been cleared. Or perhaps you’re just getting a little too used to Mrs. Choi’s usual request.

You walk down the familiar dirt driveway and your eyebrows furrow when you see a light in the window. Incredible, the old woman who cried wolf is actually right.

“Police!” you shout before you turn the doorknob, your guard not too high as you’re expecting a harmless teenager. Though you’re surprised when you find Jungkook sitting against the wall at the edge of the tattered living room, his legs bent with his forearms resting on them and a bottle of whiskey by his hip. “I’m not here to damage any property.” he says calmly, raising his hands above his head in a lazy surrender. “What are you doing here?” you ask and point your flashlight at the ceiling to better light the space, the light on his phone not doing very much by itself.

“It was something of a quiet place for me. I guess old habits die hard.” he said patting the dusty wall he’s leaning against.

“It was for me too.” you breathe, you look around the room taking in how it’s become even more run down and not quite as beautiful as you remember but breathtaking even without the fantastical dream cloud your memories have become muddled with. “Did he bring you here too?” he looks at you through his messy hair, much more practiced than you at bringing Yoongi up in conversation.

“Yeah he did.” you smile fondly. “We used to have picnics here all the time during the summer.”

“Sounds romantic.” he says, with a comedic scoff.

“Hey, for a sixteen year old? Peak romance.” you retort and he chuckles, letting his head fall against the wall. “He never told me he brought you here too.” you furrow your brows. “Makes sense though, it was his favorite place.” “Yeah, he brought me here a few times when he could ‘remove the stick from my ass.’” he laughs at the memory. “I never understood, there’s about three inches of dust on everything and all the windows are cracked.” he shakes his head. “But after he was gone, it was the most peaceful place I could find. There’s no place as serene as these four shitty walls.” he smiles looking up at you. “It was far less peaceful for me after the accident. The silence coming from this place was deafening for a long time.” you take a seat next to him. “But it’s not so bad anymore.” you hum, eyes scanning the room. You sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes letting the sound of the crickets fill your ears, doing your best to not disrupt the stillness around you.

“I want to thank you.” your mouth making the decisions for you once again. “I missed you a lot and spending time with you has been really nice. I’ve been able to face things again that I didn’t think I ever would.” you steady your breath. “So, thank you.”

“I should thank you too.” he begins, and you turn to watch the way his profile moves when he speaks. “I can’t recall a time I smiled when thinking of him. It feels nice to reminisce, not just remember and wish he was still here.”

“God, he wouldn’t recognize either of us.” you say looking down at your uniform and Jungkook’s dirtied jeans.

“He’d kick both our asses.” you laugh.

“You know for a long time,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I was upset because I lost the boy I was in love with.” he shifts a bit. “But somewhere along the way, it became less about being in love and more that someone I cared for so deeply was gone. I don’t know when or where I fell out of love, but it took me a long time to realize that I had.” “I don’t think falling in or out of love can be pinned to a single moment. You just kinda have to take a step back every so often to assess how fucked you currently are.” he laughs, leaning his head on yours. “How vulgar yet profound.” you smile and lace your fingers together. Your mind is running at a dull roar. You had never actually said you weren’t in love with Yoongi out loud before, not even to yourself. You suppose on some level you’ve known for years but saying it made you aware of just how true it was, like you’d been standing on a diving board for ages and finally took the leap that wasn’t so scary after all. You’d still give your left arm to have him there with you now, whether you were still just as in love or maybe just a friend. You still loved him but maybe… I’m not in love anymore. Before you have a chance to explore that thought further you feel Jungkook’s lips on yours, you gasp slightly and move your mouth with his, humming at how soft his lips are.

Despite your realization, when you close your eyes you’re overwhelmed with how familiar this feels. The stale smell of the wood around you and images of Yoongi kissing you right where you’re sitting flashing through your mind. Suddenly your heart is beating in your ears and just as quickly as it began you break the kiss.

“Fuck, y/n I’m so sorry.” he says when his eyes meet yours again. “No don’t be, it’s okay.” you say, trying but failing to keep your voice steady as you stand. He gets up to follow you but his feet seem to be stuck. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry about it.” you force a smile. “I should get back to work, I’ll see you Guk.” You say trying to ignore how your throat wants to close. He doesn’t answer, just watches as you close the door behind you, leaving him alone in the empty house. The sense of serenity he found within these walls fades as the light of your flashlight gets further away.

You pull out of the driveway, and remember why you were here in the first place when you see Mrs. Choi’s house across the street. You decide to say fuck it and drive back to the station and hope that she just went to bed. — You (2:30am): Sorry I left. I just need to think

Jungkook (2:37am): No I’m sorry, take your time

You read the same two texts over for what has to be the three hundredth time in the last few days. For a long time you stared at it unsure if you should respond, and then too much time had passed.

Not even texting could be simple with Jungkook.

But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.

Just like the texts you play the kiss in your mind on a loop, your lips tingling at the memory. The old house under your feet and Jungkook’s arms around you crosses too many wires in your brain for anything to make sense.

All you know is… when he kissed your lips you felt like you could breathe again. — You’re sitting on your couch when you hear a frantic knocking at your door. You jump at the sound and check the time. 11:30? What the hell? Your training kicks in and you approach your door and open it slowly.

“Okay listen, I’m so fucking sorry.” Jungkook rambles frantically pushing past you beginning to pace around your living room. “It was fucked up to kiss you, but I just- your eyes looked so beautiful and- shit that’s not the point.” he runs a hand through his hair trying to collect his thoughts. “Guk, it’s okay. You don’t need to-”

“I know what I did was shitty but we haven’t talked in days, and I can’t bear to not have you in my life again.” he’s on the verge of yelling at this point. “This time since I’ve been home with you is the most alive I’ve felt since I was fucking fifteen.”

“I’m not upset with y-”

“I know, I wouldn’t forgive me either, but I needed to try and-”

“Oh for fucks sake.” you mumble as he continues to ramble. You take in a breath. “I wanted you to kiss me!”

“I-” he finally stops, nearly out of breath. “You what?” “I wanted you to kiss me, that’s what scared me.” you clarify now that he’s listening.

He just blinks unsure of what to say. He imagined this going far differently, something more along the mine of you slamming the door in his face, but you didn’t and his heart swells as he takes in your words. “I want it too.” you continue though you’re unsure where you’re going. “I love you, Jungkook, and I can’t get your stupid pretty smile out of my head and-”

“You love me?” the words falling from his mouth softly, and his gaze fixes on your face.

“Yes.” you breathe realizing what you just said. “And it scares the shit out of me.”

“How do you think I feel? I’m in love with my deceased brother’s ex.” he counters, laughing at how ridiculous your situation is, and your heart can’t help but race at his bittersweet words. “But you’re the first time I’ve felt home in forever.” he says, his eyes hiding behind messy bangs.

“Me too.” you admit, and the air in your lungs feels lighter. “I know he would want us to follow our hearts but… like this?” you ask sheepishly, maintaining the distance between you as if neither of you are allowed to cross the invisible threshold.

“I think that even if you guys got the opportunity to break up like two normal ass teenagers…”  he begins, his face full of concern but his eyes filled with the hope that you’ll agree. “He always wanted everyone he cared about to be happy, and fuck y/n, you make me so happy. You always have.” There’s those stars again.

“But I feel guilty.” your eyes threatening to water for the first time in a long time, and your lips tingle at the memory of Jungkook’s lips on yours. “Me too.” he takes a step closer to you. “But we don’t have to. We can-” “No, you don’t understand.” you interrupt and he deflates. “I feel guilty because even though we’re talking about him… I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want you to kiss me again.” “Fuck, okay.” he says as if you had just stolen the air from his lungs. He quickly closes the gap between you and reconnects your lips. You put your arms around his neck and attempt to pull him as close as you can, his hands are warm on your jaw and the dream cloud in your mind feels as if it’s been wrapped around the two of you. A blanket of home that you didn’t know had been missing until you had it again.

You run your fingers through his hair and savor how it feels in your hands. He licks into your mouth and his heavy breaths feel hot between kisses. He feels almost frantic as you feel his nails gently dig into the sides of your neck, as though you’d slip out of his grasp if he doesn’t tighten his grip, the dull pressure making you moan into his mouth.

You put your hands on his and he relaxes his fingers. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging it lightly and he groans at the sensation, your thighs rub together at how you’re affecting him.

You wordlessly guide him to the couch and nudge him gently until his shoulders are flush with the back of the couch. You straddle him and his thighs flex underneath your ass, you resist the urge to grind down onto him in favor of kissing along his jaw.

His tense shoulders release under your hands as your lips continue their path to his neck. Your teeth graze his skin and his breath catches in your ear, you smirk and bite down harder. His hands quickly grab onto your hips squeezing them in tandem with your mouth, you run your tongue along his reddened skin and your sounds create the most beautiful harmony you’ve ever heard.

Your hips give into temptation and grind down on his hardened dick, the layers between you not doing much in the way of friction but the way his hands tighten around your waist send heat through you melting you from the inside out.

Your hand snakes between you to palm him through his jeans and you move your head up to face him, to see how sweet he looks with his eyes squeezed shut and lips parted from your touch. He reconnects your mouths and the kiss is messy as neither of you can properly think.

You break the kiss and quickly slip to your knees between his thighs. You tuck your fingers into his waistband and pause your movement, eyes searching for his. “Is this okay?” you ask with a slight tug to his pants, he answers by smirking lazily and helping you slide them down his hips.

You pull his boxers down and your mouth waters when you see his dick, the tip a frustrated shade of red. You run your tongue along the thick vein on the underside of this length, wrapping your lips around it when you reach the tip. He groans as if he’s relieved to finally have your lips wrapped around him. He grips your hair tightly, fingers flexing against your scalp as he fights the urge to push your head down to his base.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.” he says out of breath, working against his flexing abdomen to keep his voice steady. You hum around him in response making his hips stutter against your mouth, and arousal pools at your core.

You sink your mouth as far down as you can and he moans deeply holding your head in place beginning to thrust into your mouth to test the waters. You grip his thighs to ground yourself and do your best to ignore the way your lungs are beginning to burn. He picks up his pace and you take his cock in your throat until tears prick in your eyes. You tap his thigh and he takes the hint releasing your head so you can breath again.

“You like having your pretty mouth fucked, don’t you?” he questions as he wipes a tear from your eye with his thumb. You nod eagerly and move to take his cock back in your mouth but his grip on your hair stops you. “Patience beautiful,” his eyes darken looking at your swollen lips. “Open.” he says, his voice low. You oblige, flatting your tongue for good measure, he spits in your mouth and his cock twitches at the sight. He lowers your lips back on his dick, the extra wetness making him groan at how messy you look, and you try to keep your throat as relaxed as you can, doing your best to ignore the growing arousal between your legs.

He breaks his assault on your mouth, pulling your head up with a wet pop and you gasp. “Can I taste you too, sweetheart?” he asks sweetly despite how ready he looks to devour you.

“Yes Sir.” you answer and his pupils twitch at the name.

“You’re gonna ruin me.” he laughs stiffly, releasing your hair and you realize how sore your scalp is.

You stand on shaky legs, he sheds his shirt and you follow suit before laying on the couch in front of him. You tuck your fingers in your waistband but he stops you. “Let me.” He says his eyes softening and you relent.

He puts his large palm on your waist and kisses your lips slowly contradicting his previous actions. He leaves hot open mouthed kisses on your neck and down your chest, the wet trail he leaves behind feeling cold when the air hits it. He wraps his mouth around one of your hardened nipples, swirling his tongue and teasing his teeth on the sensitive skin.

Your moan catches in your throat as he bites down and your hand tangles in his hair trying to pull him closer. His free hand runs up your arm removing it from his head and pinning against the cushion gently, you lace your fingers together and you can feel him smile against your chest.

His mouth doing little to relieve the real fire you’re feeling growing deep in your abdomen. You give into the urge to move your hips against his waist and he chuckles deeply taking the hint and continuing his path down your stomach, nipping at your skin when he reaches the hem of your pants.

His breathing picks up again as he slips your pants down your legs and the wet spot on your underwear is exposed to his gaze. He takes his time removing your panties, reveling in the string of your slick that follows. “Such a pretty pussy.” he breathes quietly just to himself.

He tosses them on the floor and eagerly puts your thighs on his shoulders placing gentle pecks anywhere but where you need his mouth. You roll your hips to meet his face and he smirks darkly at your frustration. After properly enjoying your wordless plea he gives you what you want, licking a long flat stripe from your entrance to your clit and you whine at the small bit of relief he’s giving you.

“Did you get this wet just from sucking my cock, sweetheart?” you deflate slightly at his teasing and nod, clenching around nothing at his words. He swallows a groan at the sight in front of him.

He wastes no time wrapping his lips around your clit, swirling tongue in delicious circles. A moan rips out of your throat at the sudden stimulation and he groans wrapping his arms tighter around your thighs.

You move your hips against his face and he shifts his mouth to collect your juices on his tongue before moving back up to your clit. You fight how your thighs want to close around his head but he only presses himself further into you at the shaking against his ears.

You feel him at your entrance, stretching you slowly with two fingers as he continues his work on your clit. He curls his digits into you and your hips buck at the sensation.

“That’s my good girl, fuck yourself on my tongue.” he moans into your folds, flattening his tongue for you to use. He picks up the pace of his hand and you rut against his mouth. The sounds you’ve been swallowing down flowing out of your lips before you can stop them.

“Jungkook, fuck!” you whine and he scissors his fingers faster to bring you to your rapidly approaching peak. Your walls clench and your rhythm falters, he wraps his lips around your clit sucking as he does. Your orgasm rips through you and onto his fingers with a loud moan.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says breathless, he almost sounds amazed that someone can look so beautiful when they cum.

He quickly climbs over you, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand and reconnecting your lips as soon as he reaches your face, he can’t get enough of your lips and you moan at your taste on his mouth.

He slips his pants down his legs, and lines himself up with your entrance, gasping at your wetness on his painfully hard cock. His eyes widen “I didn’t bring a-”

“I’m on the pill.” you reassure, grinding up against his dick.

“Thank fuck.” he sighs, pushing his cock in as he does. Your eyes close at the stretch he’s providing. He pushes in rather slowly savoring every small clench and twitch your walls give him.

He’s quick to pick up the pace seeing as you were more than happy when he was rough earlier. You moan at how well he fucks into you, you hold onto his arms as you’re afraid you’ll float away if you don’t anchor yourself. He smacks his hips against you harder and you gasp at how deep he is, trying your best not to yelp.

He wraps his arm around your back and takes a handful of your hair, yanking against your sore scalp until your chin is pointing at the ceiling, and you can’t contain your moans with your neck so open. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Give me all those beautiful sounds.” he says into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck.

With your new position you’re a moaning mess underneath him and you feel him smirk against your skin as he delivers particularly hard thrusts, the sound of your moans and slapping skin filling the room..

He continues his relentless pace, watching you in awe. “Such a pretty slut.” he groans. “Look at you falling apart on my cock.” you can only whimper in response. He rubs your clit so he can watch your eyes roll back, doing his best to ignore his approaching orgasm so he can feel you cum again on his cock.

“I’m- fucking- I’m gonna-.” you try to warn doing your best to keep your voice steady.

“Good girl, cum for me, beautiful.” he soothes, lacing his finger with yours, mumbling praises into your ear as you clench around him, his hips work hard to keep their pace through your orgasm.

With his not far behind, he thrusts faster finally letting go. He reconnects your lips, the kiss hot and messy as his end is finally in sight.

His hips stutter. “I love you.” He breathes as he releases into you, falling against you shortly after and you laugh, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes while he catches his breath.

“I love you, too.” you whisper and he hums holding you tightly.

“I could get used to hearing that.” he smiles brightly, before he kisses you slowly. — “So…” you begin after the two of you are showered. Jungkook is sitting on the end of your bed ruffling his damp hair. “So?” he perks up, taking your hands in his. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you say squeezing his hands, still a little nervous despite the several ‘I love you’s and how your heart pounds when you look in eyes. Still a little nervous that if you hold on too tight he’ll slip through your fingers. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” he says leaning into your touch, and his words calm your racing heart.

“Okay.” you smile brightly, and he can’t help but mirror you.

“Hey.” he says, making sure you’re giving him your full attention, and you meet his gaze. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” — You stand next to Jungkook, fingers laced tightly together, as you stare down the familiar dirt driveway.

“You ready?” he asks, still looking straight ahead at the chicken wire fence.

“No.”

“Yeah, me either.”

He squeezes your hand in his as you walk through the dirt and into the old house, same as you left it. You walk past the living room into the furthest bedroom where Yoongi’s mark is most prominent in the house. You stop at the corner where he carved that heart in the wall that, besides some dust, looks just like the day he put it there.

“Hi Hyung,” Jungkook begins. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to talk to you in a long time.” he looks a tad nervous as if he’ll be reprimanded, he squeezes your hand and you rub your thumb over his knuckles. “I found her,” he says, sounding more sure of himself. “And I wanted you to meet her. Are you surprised?”

“We are too.” you breathe out a laugh. “Hey Yoongs,” your voice is a little shaky. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I just didn’t know how.” you breathe. “I miss you, and I want you to know that I’m happy.” you reassure, remembering how he always checked. “We’re happy.” you put your other hand on Jungkook’s.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” He adds, placing a kiss on your temple.

“And I’ll take care of him.” you say, and you both put your hand on the heart gently. That final breath that was taken from you those years ago returns and your lungs finally feel full again, and you open your mouth to speak.

“I love you, angel.”

————————

A/N -> Hello! I hope you liked it!!! I’m really proud of this one, feel more than free to send me an ask with your thoughts, I’d love to know what you thought. <3

Tag List -> @ancailinaerach​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @bunnyboyenthusiast​ @singularity-mp3​ 

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clans part 31! @scentedcandlecryptid

Donatello was incredibly bored and incredibly cold. Even with the heated gear that Bishop had provided for him, Donatello could practically feel his heart rate slowing and body temperature dropping lower than it ever had in New York. If he didn't have the coat and hat to keep him warm, he was certain that death would have been quick and painful in this environment. He knew movement was the best way to keep warm, but it took a great deal of effort for his brain to persuade his body to obey.

Donatello stood from the snow finally. This place still unsettled him, the unnatural shape of the campgrounds a constant reminder in his head that this place was not a good place. Perfectly circular and barren of life, as if trees and bushes and even grass refused to grow in the area, old tattered tents and even some makeshift shacks scattered around in no true order; Donatello was sure the shacks would provide better warmth than the tent he was given with his supplies, but some better part of him didn't want to step foot in any of them. Some were very old, wood rotting and peeling away, while others seemed much fresher and steadier; the tents were much the same way.

Donatello forced himself to find the place farthest away from the rest of the homesteads to start laying down the foundations that would form his tent.

“Hey. Hey kid.”

Donatello dropped the supplies from his arms. That voice could have feasibly been coming from anywhere, but Donatello’s eyes naturally settled on the cave. The cave was at the base of the mountain, the inside Vantablack in such an unnerving way that Donatello hadn’t dared venture anywhere near it. It was day out, yet even with the sun there was still only black. He could see no stone, no nothing inside except for a blank abyss.

“Come here. Come here.” The voice rasped once more, this time all around Donatello with no true origin. “I’m here! In the cave.”

Donatello grabbed his bo staff for security.

“Don’t do it!”

More voices— children's voices— made Donatello fall and turn quickly to face the forest behind him. The voices were much more pronounced than the first one, much more real.

“Don’t do it. He only lies.”

Donatello searched and searched until he found two black dots staring at him from a cluster of leaves. When the black dots blinked, Donatello quickly started to recognize more and more of those dots— those eyes— staring back at him.

“Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it…”

“Okaaayyyy creepy children of the trees. Something tells me I should listen to you.”

Donatello went back to his work, ignoring the further beckoning calls of the cave in favor of setting up his tent to get some shelter from the harsh elements. When the tent was up, he went to sleep, clutching his bo staff tightly.

His slumber was fitful and plagued with nightmares of varying severity. Buildings crumbling under the weight of something far bigger, something Donatello couldn’t understand. The sound of screams so familiar to him yet sliding through his fingers like dry sand. An endless abyss trying to swallow him whole. Then he was back in the campsite, swallowed by snow and haunted by the sounds of paws scampering across dead earth. The fabric of his tent ripping under sharp canines and powerful claws…

Donatello woke up sooner than he would have wanted. He could still see light outside the tent, just barely. The air was almost warm, but a sharp breeze alerted Donatello to the open tent flap. He thought, no, he knew, he had closed it! Giving a growl of frustration, he crawled forward in the hopes of sealing it again, but what he saw outside the tent made him stop in his place.

Foxes. Two foxes with his bag in their mouths, standing on their hind legs! Not like mutants or yokai would, but like an animal had just decided to walk that way!

“Hey!” Donatello called out as he scrambled out into the open air, colder than it was earlier in the day. “That’s my stuff!”

The emerald eyes of the foxes remained fixed on him for a moment before they dropped to all fours and took off into the forest. Donatello knew better than to go off the trail, but all the food and water he had to last him through the torturous trial was in that bag and it was being taken away! He paused at the campsite’s edge, staring off into the thick, snagging brambles and the low-hanging branches ready to reach out and grab him. He allowed himself only a moment of respite before he took off into the woods after them.

Donatello used the sharp of his new bo to cut himself a way through, but still the foxes were faster. Where Donatello had to hack and slash and strike a path big enough for him to pass, the foxes weaved through the brambles with expert knowledge, fur not catching and foxes not slowly. Eventually, Donatello forsook his attempt at making a path as he could hear the yips and hollers of the foxes getting further and further in the distance. If it wasn’t for their paths in the snow, Donatello would have lost them already. Instead of cutting a way through, Donatello forced his way through. The worst of the damage the brambles gave him was absorbed by the thick sweater that covered the entire length of him, and what the sweater didn't save him from, his boots and gloves and hat and scarf did.

Donatello realized far too soon that he was dreadfully lost. The yells of the foxes were almost gone now, and all that left him with was the hooting of the ural owls and the blowing winds. He had no flashlight with him, and the light of day had gone quickly. The night he was used to wasn’t like this night at all. The nights he had been raised on were illuminated with the street lamps and the shining windows of late work and disobedient children. This night didn't belong to people. This night belonged to nothing.

The moon was something that Donatello had never really considered beyond the scientific curiosity of a child, but in that moment he had hoped that maybe it would give him the guidance he needed to find his way back to camp. Looking up into the starless sky, no moon stared back at him. He felt truly alone.

Donatello wasn’t sure how he made it to morning, but he did. When the dawn light ended what seemed an endless night, Donatello rubbed his eyes to clear them of the ice trying to form and looked around in a quiet, defeated stupor. It didn't look like the same place he was in last night. The dark shapes no longer moved. The owls no longer called out. The winds still came, but not as powerful as before. Or maybe it was just the calls of the songbirds waking peacefully from the same night Donatello had painfully endured that warmed him. There was no use in waiting here.

It got brighter as Donatello tried to search for the path he had taken in his rush. He was hungry now, and thirsty. He wished he had something to store the snow until it melted. He knew better than to eat the snow as it was, but he would be lying if he had said that the thought didn't cross his mind. Luck provided Donatello a break in his aimless search and brought him to a path. Not the one he had made, but still a path. A path that might lead him back to the campsite! Instead, it led him somewhere completely different.

“A monastery?”

It wasn’t much. A small Vihara, smaller than any building Donatello had seen in New York. Faded white paint peeled and crumbled, and what Donatello assumed used to a golden roof had lost its point, cut off at the center, and lost its color; now it was the most unruly shade of yellow. Windows shattered, vines creeping over the walls and through cracks to spill into the building itself. It was a wonder the place was still standing! Featured on either side of the Vihara’s entrance were two identical kitsune statues.

Donatello gave a low whine. He wanted to just turn away, try to find his way back to camp and stay put just as Bishop had told him too. He was supposed to be watching the place while his brothers were gone! But the temple looked somewhat stable despite its many deficits. It looked like it could be warm, and right now Donatello was anything but warm! It would certainly be a better place to stay than the tent, and away from the unsettling feelings of being watched.

[japannkenn]

(Beta Owl House) I like (the idea of) You - japanken (Archive of Our Own)

Amity’s sitting alone at a cafe in the plaza, eating lunch before she had to be back on center of campus in twenty minutes. She wasn’t thinking about Luz, or, trying not to at least. She felt embarrassed almost, to be sitting here without anyone else she knew. Usually, she was with a group of friends or with Boscha at the very least. They were her defense mechanism, her shield to hide behind.

And it couldn’t have been a better time for something bad to happen. Or maybe Amity was just dramatic.

She’d been keeping an especially watchful eye on the glass doors, scanning each person that walked past. If someone walked by particularly slow then her heart would race, checking quickly for that navy green jacket or that stupid red beanie.

She never actually expected to see her, especially not when Luz was so notorious for being behind on her work. Surely, Amity expected her to be in her dorm during downtime to get some of it done. Or she might be in the gym taking another quick nap on the bleachers, which she had caught her doing one too many times in the past month. But not walking past the cafe, meeting her glance as she went past. No problem, Amity tries to calm herself. There’s no reason for her to come in here.

She flicks her eyes back down to her scroll where she was browsing Penstagram, casually flicking her thumb and her eyes failing to focus on anything. With her heightened sense of hearing, she acknowledged the sound of the door opening, a cool breeze gusting through the small cafe. With everything inside of her, she really, really hopes that it isn’t who she thinks it is. She keeps her head down even if she was dying to look behind her at the person who just walked by.

She squeaks when she feels a warm hand on her shoulder. It’s firm and strong, lingering on her skin for an uncomfortably long time. Amity’s heart thrums into overdrive, awaiting what comes next. And she knows exactly who it is.

“Hey, Blight,” Luz leans in close to her ear, her voice low and her breath hot on her skin. Amity shivers with repulsion, a weird tingle rushing up her neck.

She helps herself to the stool to the left of Amity, pulling it out to sit down. She leans on the counter, obnoxiously yet expectantly batting her eyes. She really just wants to reach over and punch her stupid face.

Even still, she was practically dying to hear what she had to say.

Amity curtly wipes the corners of her mouth with a napkin before clearing her throat to turn and acknowledge Luz, a pained grimace in her eyes. “Noceda,” she greets sternly. The girl laughs, satisfied with the powerful start.

“So… ” she begins playfully. “I had a question about the student council.”

“And what’s that?” Her heart races.

“I just,” her voice is high pitched and she grins as she folds the paper napkin neatly that was near Amity’s cup. “Oh, may I get some water?” She pauses to ask the guy behind the counter. She smiles politely at him and then turns to give Amity a sultry grin after he leaves. “I was wondering about… exactly how much power you have as head?”

That’s an odd question, but an answer she’s more than proud to flaunt. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what this was all about. It’s no secret that they’re sworn rivals and top students for drastically different reasons. If she was gathering information for what she thinks she is, it isn’t going to work. She hadn’t been here that long and she didn’t exactly have the best track record. If she was thinking of signing up… “Why do you ask?” She eyes her skeptically. Luz rolls her eyes.

“Just answer the damned question,” she groans.

Amity watches her incredulously. How dare she use crude language in her presence? “As head of the student council, I have immense power. My spot is just below the chief executive’s, the only thing I am unable to do is have anyone expelled, unfortunately.” She says and pointedly glares at her, thoroughly annoyed. “Is this the information you were looking for?”

Luz hums observantly. “Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “Good to know. Thanks, Blight.”

“Of course,” she struggles to keep her tone even, smiling politely. “Now I suppose you owe me an answer as well.”

“Oh, right.” She’s quiet for a moment. “I guess I was just trying to prepare for when I become part of the student council,”

“No worries about that, Noceda.” She stifles her laugh, amused by the thought of her false confidence. “You couldn’t enter the student council with grades like yours anyways.”

“Then I’ll raise my grades,” she says back, easily breezy.

“What’s the logic in that?” Amity blinks, trying to connect the dots in her mind. “Raising your grades just to enter something as high league as the student council? You’re too far behind to even consider that,” a little chuckle escapes her at the sight of Luz’s visibly growing annoyance. She absolutely cannot believe this girl. “You are aware of this, correct?”

“...Yeah and what if I wasn’t?”

“Then you’re incredibly foolish!”

Suddenly, Luz pushes back, the stool screeching against the tile flooring. She slams a fist on the counter, making Amity flinch. “I’ll show you who’s foolish. I’ll raise my grades and pass the requirements to join the student council!” She says and she bends down, leaning in and crossing way over the line of personal space. They stare at each other for one tense moment, Amity feeling the warmth of the human, a pleasant tingle rushing up her back.

Her eyes flick back down to her lips as an involuntary afterthought and Luz lets out a little chuckle. It’s almost self assured and like she’d proven something, something that they both already knew.

Amity fucking hates her. She wants to fucking kill her. Luz leans in further, dangerously close and even if Amity’s terrified, she doesn’t back down. She can’t. She won’t. She looks her in the eyes feeling pathetic and indignant when that stupid grin spreads across Luz’s face, and her face heats up, from the flame she’s summoning in her hand of course.

Finally, she pulls away, looking down smugly at Amity and crossing her arms. “Higher than you.”

And, there really isn’t anything else left for Amity to do except laugh.

She would believe it when she sees it.

_____

Read the full story here (incomplete): https://archiveofourown.org/works/32079613/chapters/79470223

[velvetkisscsxx]

It is all gone now.

Pair: Reader x Ronald Weasley

Warning: Angst maybe??? Cursing.

A/N: I hate this one. I don’t know but I feel like I can do better than this. But happy reading <33

{Play “Arcade” by Duncan Laurence cause why not?}

‼️: The first half was a flashback!

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The school was a mess. Hogwarts doesn’t look like Hogwarts anymore. Dead bodies were all on the floor. It was finally the end of the battle. We won. We finally won. After all those mess that were made, it finally ended. Nothing could describe the happiness and the victory that we felt.

“We did it...” the man that you love behind you said. You turned around, eyes met with a blue pair. He looked tired yet still charming like he always do. You smiled, you let out a sigh of relief as you were seeing the redhead in front of you. You hugged him tight, missing him. Your worries went away as he was standing there, still in one piece.

“We did it, Ron... We did it...” you muttered under your breath. You were relieved that all of this has end and you are finally in your loved one’s arms. It was warm and full of love. You felt a kiss was given on top of your head. Your heart melt by the sweet action from him.

“Hey, come on guys! Let’s go and see Harry” Hermione came from behind, tapping slightly at both of you and Ron’s shoulders. You guys slightly giggle. Despite the battle, Hermione still find a way to smile and cheer us up.

“There he is. Harry!!” you shouted, calling for the boy that was standing at the edge of the broken bridge.

“What is that, Harry?” Ron asked in confusion. Harry was holding a wand that looked familiar to your eyes but you couldn’t connect the dots as to when and where you have seen them before.

“It’s the Elder Wand. It’s mine, well I guess it’s supposed to be” and that’s when it clicked you. It’s one of the Deathly Hallows. You three nodded, already know how it became Harry’s.

“So are you going to keep it?” you asked. The scarhead boy shook his head. He, by mean all of us, didn’t want anything to happen anymore so it is better to break it than keep it. Harry break the wand in half and throw it in the water. You guys smiled at each other, knowing that this is the end of the nightmare.

“We should get going. They might be worried if they found us missing. Come on!” Hermione yelled as she was running, going into the broken castle. Before you could follow her, you felt a warm hand grabbing your arms. You turned your head.

“What is it, Ron?”

“Can I talk to you for a while? Alone” his gaze turned to Harry that was standing there while watching the scene. He smirked and nodded and finally made his way to the castle.

“K now we are finally alone. What is it? Are you thirsty? Oh my god...” you gasped dramatically “Did you break your bone?!” you put your hand on your mouth, acting like you were completely shocked.

“No, it’s not that!” he cried while stomping his feet like a little kid. You giggled at his behaviour.

“I was just joking, Ronald! Okay okay serious. What is it?” you asked him once again, still trying to contain your laugh. You looked at him.

“Uhm I... I... you know what, just forget about it. It’s not important anyways...” he said while walking away. You quickly grabbed his hand. You could see his body stiffened.

“Ron, it’s always important when it comes to you. You know that right?” you said, not wanting him to go. He turned his back, his eyes were wide opened. Maybe shocked by your action or maybe your words or maybe both. He cleared his throat.

“Okay... uh... I... I...”

“Ron! Spit it!”

“I love you!” he shut his eyes, scared that you might reject him. You widened your eyes, shocked at his words. Your heart was beating fast, your stomach was full of butterflies and your heart melt. It was very gentleman of him to say that since you know how Ron is like. You, then, smiled. You walked close to him. His warm body made you calm. You leaned in, his eyes were still closed. And finally, your lips landed on his. His body jumped but then he started to follow your movement. After God knows how long, you guys pulled away. His blue eyes were looking deeply into yours. He smiled and engulfed you in his hug. You smiled.

-Time skip-

You took a sip from your cup, enjoying the views of the busy New York city. You had a little ‘me time’ after weeks and weeks of works. The air was cold; but not too cold. You saw a couple was holding hands, with a little baby in the woman’s arms. You smiled to yourself, wishing that one day, it will be you instead. Holding a baby in your arms while having a husband beside you.

After the war, you followed your parents to Italy and you decided to live on your own and moved to the United States. It was a pain to leave your loved ones behind. And Ron... you told him to wait for you. You promised him that you will come back. And, he, promised the same thing too.

“You are going to be the death of me. I swear. I love you so much. Take care, my love”

You teared up a little, remembering how genuine his last words were. You tried to owl him a few times but there’s still no reply and you stopped trying after a while. Maybe he was busy or the letters were not given to him directly.

“Ah... too much memories” you sighed and packed everything up, ready to go.

You walked into a flower shop. The smell of roses and other flowers were lingering in the shop. The vibrant colours of the flowers there made you happy. As you were busy looking at the flowers, you heard a familiar voice. A voice of your loved one. A voice that you missed. A voice that you love.

“This looks quite nice, don’t you think?” he said.

You turned around, still smiling to yourself. But...

He was with someone else. His arms were around her shoulders. He was smiling, and so was she. They looked happy...

“Ron...” you whispered, but still loud enough for him to hear it. He immediately turned his head. His eyes dropped, so did his heart. He was looking at you.

He was still beautiful, still charming as ever. His blue eyes were still the same. His skin looked so fair. His hair looked so fluffy. His body still looked buff. He was still the same Ron.

“Hermione...” you whispered. You felt your heart sank down to your stomach as you saw the girl beside him, that he was hugging, was Hermione. Your tears filled your eyes. Pain. Hurt. Heartbroken. Betrayed. Everything.

“What is this...” you pointed at his arms that were still hugging her. He quickly removed his arms from her. And Hermione, she looked guilty. She was fidgeting with the ring on her finger. You immediately looked at his hand, finding the same one like the one on Hermione’s.

“What is this, Ron...” your tears escaped your eyes. You feel betrayed. She was your best friend. She should have known. And he was your lover. He should have kept his promise. You shook your head, still in disbelief.

“Can we talk outside. It’s a little inappropriate to talk here..” he said, guilt can be heard in his voice. You walked away, still trying to understand what was happening.

“Darling, can you give us some space?” he said as Hermione walked away.

“Darling... woah... okay...” you could feel a lump in your throat. Your heart was beating in pain. Your hands were cold and your head was killing you from too much crying.

“What’s all of this, Ronald?! What is this?!” you shouted, not caring at everyone that was staring at you. While Ron, you could see him gulping in his saliva.

“I’m sorry...” he whispered.

“I don’t need your sorry. I need an explanation. What was that? Darling? Matching rings? What is happening, Ron?”

“We... we got...”

“SAY IT!”

“We got married...”

You gasped, tears couldn’t stop falling off your cheeks. The pain doubled. You could even hear your own heart breaking and shattering in pieces. It was so loud. It was painful.

“Why...” you asked.

“After all those years you were not there, I sort of... fall in love with her. It was killing me to wait for you. And after a while, I... I realised that I am in love with her. I’m sorry. You were gone for too long. It started to pain me to the heart. I couldn’t help it... I’m sorry...” he said, his eyes were on the ground.

“Wow...” you couldn’t believe at what you just heard. Pain, my ass.

“And you think not having you here with me is such a pleasurable thing? Do you think like that, Ronald? Are you fucking kidding me? I am here, still waiting for you. Even after all those years that I spent, WITHOUT YOU, I still couldn’t find someone to fucking replace you. And you have the audacity to say that it was killing you? And how about me? It’s not killing me to know that you are married to my best friend? It’s not killing me to know that you are hugging her instead of me? You think it’s not killing me to see the ring on her finger when it should be me instead? You think it’s not killing me to know that my fucking first love is married to someone else? I fucking tried, Ronald Weasley! I fucking tried to contact you. I owled you, your family, but none, NONE of them owled me back. Where is your promise, Ron? Was that all just a word that you could throw away like a fucking piece of trash?” you cried out. It was all too much. It was all too much for you. He still stood there, his eyes were on the ground. You wiped away your tears. You were tired honestly. Tired of everything.

“You know what. Every story has an ending. We passed a lot of chapters but sadly, we have to pass this one separately. I love you, Ron Weasley. Will forever do. Good bye”

And you walked away from him, dropping the promise ring that he gave before you went away. It was a pain but holding on means nothing anymore.

Farewell, my love.