#mic asks paper how he finally managed to pull it off and much to her chagrin the answer is persistence and being as obvious as possible

[numberonetacostan]

Taco has a lot to catch up on being back in the group including relationship dynamics, yeah? I think when she finds out that Paper and OJ have gotten together semi-recently she'd be surprised because wasn't Paper flirting with him since the desert episode (s1 ep10)?? And OJ would a bit embarrassed that it took his ass years to notice Paper was interested. Taco would call him dull or oblivious or something along those lines for not noticing, and then Mic can just. Break the fourth wall and stare into the camera like 'are you guys seeing this shit?' (rendition below)

because Taco can not fucking tell when Mic, or anyone else for that matter is flirting with her. She can tell other people are flirting with other people just fine, but when it's directed towards her? No bells are rung in her mind. 100% oblivious. Goes right over her head, like most things since she is teeny.

[emile-hides]

H*lding H*nds Imagines

I am once again making content for me and me alone because I have an unhealthy obsession for BNHA blond boys

BNHA Blond Boys X GN!Reader h*nd h*lding moments

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Twice, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

Knuckle brush

You handed him things before

Stacks of papers to grade, coffee after a long day, a napkin when he goes into a coughing fit

But something about this time turns his face a deep red

He withdrew quickly, in a jerking manner that dragged more attention than you’re sure he meant it to

He cleared this throat and thanked you quietly before shuffling off

It took a few moments to really set on you

You’d made contact

Such little contact you’d barely even felt it

He was cold, his skin rough and calloused, wrinkled and dry

How you managed to notice so much with such brief contact is astounding

And also incomparable to how much he noticed

He’s thinking about it all day, glancing at where the contact was made, shuffling, flushing to himself, holding his knuckles to his lips

Do it on purpose next time you hand him a stack of papers and he’ll drop them

Present Mic

In a crowd

It’s LOUD

You and Hizashi are trying to get home after a live show

The crowd is huge and still hyped from the concert

The quarters are tight, the space is limited, and without his towering hair spike it’s hard to keep track of your loud blond

Eventually a strong clasp from a hand horribly decorated in rings, fingerless gloves, and black nail polish claps on your wrist as your continued to be pulled though a crowd

When the world finally starts to calm and you have room to breath his hand slides to connect to your palm

Fingers intertwine with yours as a series of “Y’all good?”s start, followed quickly by an excited narration of the chaos that just ensued

He’d taken your hand so causally you barely even noticed

The two of you walked in a much calmer crowd, hand in hand, as Hizashi randomly picked bystanders out of his vocal range and made up their life stories to tell you

Fatgum

Big hands

You laid idly on the couch in Fatgum’s office, the interns long sense gone home

A pile of paperwork blocked your view of your hard working hero as he sat at his desk

You slumped and slid off the couch, boredom rising as you phone lie dead on the table nearby

A loud groan drives a “Just a bit longer, gumdrop” from behind the piles of unfinished work, a bit longer could be years for all you cared

Sliding across the hardwood floor on your back, you found yourself beside Taishiro’s desk, looking up at him from an angle you were rather use to

He was focused, with a smile still on his face as he worked, writing with one hand, the other causually turning Takoyaki in the grill built into his desk

You sat up, watching quietly. He was typically pretty observant, but he may not yet have noticed your approach

When his hand stopped turning and released, you took your chance

Both your hands snatched his wrist, sitting up a bit to rest yourself on his lap, you examined his large palm

He chuckled, “What’cha doin’, cupcake?”

His hand was massive in your own, enough to make anyone feel like a child. It could engulf you, hold half your torso and still have a pinkie to spare

You pressed on his palm, he hummed and returned to work, leaving you to admire as you pleased

His knuckles were scarred, several gashes and scrapes from punching at materials harder than even his fat could handle

Old burns from cooking, white spots on his finger tips from a time before he learned patients

You leaned back on him, holding his hand in your own, and watched him work

He seemed much more blissed from your company

Twice

Not enough hands

Jin’s a very physical person

He hangs off you every chance he can get, coddling and loving on you

He finds it annoying

So it’s not surprise as you two settled down for a movie night he was instantly on your lap like a cat

He lays over you like a blanket, limbs tangled every which way, head on your chest, looking at you more than the movie

One of your hands lay idly by your head, that one he has his own over, fingers tangled messily, almost uncomfortably

His other arm trapped under you, a hug from below, resting also uncomfortably against your spine

Leaving your free hand to tangle in his hair, a rare sight to have his mask off, though it probably wouldn’t last the whole movie, it should be cherished until then

When you notice his staring at you more than the screen, you choose to join him

You slide your hand from his hair to his cheek, he leans into it with the most lovestruck puppydog look a man his age could muster

He then starts to fidget around, moving like he’s stuck

It doesn’t take long from there for him to start getting frustrated with himself, splitting an argument for two between just him

You gently lift his head to regain eye contact and ask what’s wrong

He nearly starts crying

“I want to hold your cheek too but I don’t have enough hands!!”

He’s not willing to remove your hand from his hold or pull his other arm out from under you to compromise his own needs

He does eventually start crying over his lack of extra limbs to love you with

Aoyama

Standing ovation

Roaring applause rippled thought the auditorium

It wasn’t a big show, or a big stage, but it was your first written play, and seeing it go over so well was enough to bring a tear to your eyes

You joined the audience in standing to applause as the actors took the stage for the final bow

Only the lead, your star, wasn’t there with them

You blinked once, twice, three times before panic set in

There’s no way Yuga Aoyama would miss the chance to stand center stage in a spotlight. If he wasn’t on stage something must have happened

You tried your best not to look around too fervently, not wanting to startle anyone else

When a hand clasped yours

“And let’s not forget the playwright~✨”

Before you could question how he said that with his mouth, you were dragged onto the stage by your previously mentioned star, with his own mic in hand you don’t remember giving him

He held your arm up above his head as he runway walked his way along the stage, you closely in toe

You were going to go on stage eventually but you’d planned to be a lot more quiet about it, when more people had left early not wanting to sit though the applause

But instead, here you were, center stage, hand held high like you’d just won a boxing match by your own and only Aoyama

How he could stand being this bright all the time way beyond you

For now though, it was rather nice 

Ojiro

Lost and found

You stepped out of your class stretching, ready for a well deserved lunch break when you heard your classmates muttering

“Isn’t he from the hero course?”

“What’s he doing?”

Being nosy wasn’t usually your strong suit, but the mutterings has peaked your interest

You followed the eyes of those speaking to find a blond boy sitting in the floor of the hall, knees pulled to his chest to keep his legs from disrupting the flow of traffic, with his tail resting over his feet to protect them from being stepped on

He smiled and gave a light wave to your class as the dispersed

You alone approached him, curiosity peaking. Why was he sitting out here in the hall?

When question he very sheepishly answered, “I, uh.. I got lost on my way to class”

There was several things wrong with that

Number one being, he’d been at this school half a year now. He has one classroom, a big classroom, in the hero course. It’s not easy to miss??

Number two, it was noon. Lunchtime. He has one classroom. How long had he been lost???

These questions had answers and he was, while slightly embarrassed, happy to share he had, in fact, been lost all morning. Not just in finding his class, but also in finding the exit to the building, any teachers he knew, or his phone to call for help

You began to feel sorry for the guy, as this seemed to be a common occurrence in his daily life

With a sigh, you offered your hand to help him up

It was lunch, for all courses, so surely he’d see his hero course classmates in the cafeteria. No one turns up Lunchrush’s food after all

He smiled and took your hand, lifting himself from the floor with a thankyou

“I’m Ojiro, by the way. You are...?”

He was rather polite to talk to the entire walk, his grip on your hand was soft, gentle, and his smile never seemed to waver

Kaminari

Swing yer partner round and round

“Oh this is my JAM!”

Mina excitedly turned up your shitty little radio before kicking herself up off the floor, grabbing Sero all in one quick motion

The two danced horribly off beat, you quickly guess Mina had never heard this song before in her life, just wanted to get moving

“Come on you two, it’s dance break time!”

You found yourself enraptured with her energy, already forgetting the homework you all were doing

Kaminari took your hand much like how Mina took Sero’s and began to dance just as off beat and spuratic as queen pinkie had

You laughed, stumbling with every step, same as the others, the giggling energy filling a previously silent room

Denki’s fingers dug into your knuckles as he smirked, suddenly spinning on his heel and dragging you with him

The two of you became a tornado in your tiny dorm room, barely keeping from knocking into your tea table as you spun like a couple of children

You could hear Mina cheer and laugh, a brief glanced told you Sero was recording this silly moment

You looked across the way at your dance partner

Spinning, laughing his head off like this was the most fun he’d ever had, eyes closed, caring not for his surroundings

You decided to let go

The momentum sent you both toppling, you safely into Mina, who was more then ready to catch you

Denki got the much less desirable aforementioned tea table, which sent him toppling backwards over the also aforementioned homework

If you all could have laughed any louder, you would

Bakugo

Sweaty hands

You always knew when Bakugo was going to hold your hand

He may think he’s smooth, wiping his hand on the pocket of his pants before reaching behind himself to grab at you

But you’d always notice

It was a good indicator you were walking too slow for his liking, or the area up ahead was crowed, or that he simply felt you were too far away

You couldn’t initiate holding hands, when he didn’t actively want to be in contact he’d keep his hands shoved deep in his pockets

So you just had to wait for him to wipe himself off and reach for you

You were free to wrap yourself around his arm whenever, though

He’ll look pissed, but won’t say a word

And if you move away, he’ll wipe his hand on his pants, and offer it to you, a silent plea for you to come back

Honenuki

Magic hands

You stretched out over the couch of the 1-B common room with a whine, the rest of your class in a similar state

Training was hell today, sparing with class 1-A was never a joke, and with Monoma egging the whole game up to be more than it should have been, it all just escalated to a point you all wish it hadn’t

“Alright, next.”

Honenuki, a godsend, your blessed angel, helped Tsuburaba off the second common room couch, his typically wide eyes closed and relaxed as he wobbled his way across the room

You happily took his place, stretching out on your stomach before your classmate with the magic powers of massage

His hands pressed into your back and you instantly relaxed, letting out a low hum as you snuggled the pillow under your chin

Honenuki returned your hum, his hands pressing into all your tenses spots, almost instantly releasing them from their knots

You’d probably have fallen asleep, if it wasn’t over so fast

He had the entire class to get though after all, though he hated to rush an art form

You took his hand as he helped you stand, the actual minute of his touch enough to wobble your legs

Kissing his knuckle and thanking him for sharing his magic, you found yourself plopped peacefully on the couch beside Tsuburaba

Honenuki chuckled at you as he called next, happy to be of service

Monoma

He’s showing off

You’d known for a while now Monoma didn’t know how to shut the fuck up

He’d brag about anything, over anyone, to everyone

He’d always loudly bragged about how much better his class was, how much stronger his friendships were, how absolutely amazing his partner was

You being said partner didn’t make said bragging less annoying

The two of you had been together less than an hour and he was already boasting about your perfection to all who would hear

Some genuine, loving, almost gaggingly sweet comments

Others just to rub it in the face of class 1-A as much as possible

A week into this relationship and people were starting to think you must be come kind of god with how Monoma spoke about you

You’d been on two dates with the guy

Now here you were, holding his hand on the walk to class, and regretting every step

As every single person who passed must take note of the fact you were holding his hand

And also must be aware how blessed he is to be holding your hand in return

And really you started to understand the concerned look Kendo gave you when you told her you’d agreed to date Neito Monoma

Still his words were genuine, no matter how they came across, and he truly had a million and one things to say about you

So you could hold though the embarrassment his overexcited bragging may cause

He just wants to show you off

Mirio

Quietly

You sat by his bed side, holding gently to his limp hand

Moments ago he was inconsolable, crying and screaming his lungs out

His quirk gone

His teacher gone

Everything he worked so hard for seemed to vanish in an instant

His grip, still so strong, had left your hand bruised, circulation cut off

It wasn’t a concern you really had

Sleeping, his pain was still so obvious

Bags under his eyes, dried streaks of tears still down his keeps

And your hand still tightly gripped in his

What would happen next, where he would go, who you all would become

They were all problems for the future

Tomorrow you could work on a solution

Tonight, you could hold his hand

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus 

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub 

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor 

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

[legends-of-apex]

Can I get prompt 12 with ghostrider from the fluff list💀🔥 thx

Of course you can!!! This is a long one lol, here you go ☺️

Prompt 12. “Can I kiss you?”

Robbie Reyes/Ghost Rider x Reader (fluff)

Rating: T (mild suggestiveness, injury detail)

Word count: 3,000

Summary: You’re a SHIELD agent tasked with going on an undercover operation with Robbie. Things very quickly spiral out of control and you have to resort to desperate measures to keep cover.

Flicking a switch on the vast navigation console littered with all kinds of buttons and levers, you turned the mic of your comms on, “Quinjet now on autopilot. We’ll be back at base within the hour.”

“Copy that. Don’t have too much fun on your way home.” Came Daisy’s voice in your ear and you shook your head at her antics before turning off your comms for the journey ahead.

You ducked out of the cockpit and headed towards Robbie. He sat, car keys flipping in his hands as he stared off into space. You dumped the bag of medical supplies at his feet and handed him a tissue.

“It’s okay really, give it a couple hours and it’s all good.” He sat with his legs open, bouncing one knee as he sat but you saw the way he winced when he moved too much. He was trying to play it cool, like he hadn’t been shot.

You couldn’t help but smile just a little. What he thought you were asking him to do with the tissue you had no idea, “It’s for the lipstick,” you confirmed, and he let his fingers ghost over his lips seeing the slight pink residue that it left on his fingertips.

“Come on, let’s take a look at that bullet wound,” you said as you snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

Accelerated healing or not, he still had a bullet lodged in his chest.

That was your lipstick you’d transferred onto his lips less than an hour before and he’d almost entirely forgotten you’d even been wearing lipstick when you kissed. Which was strange given how much the colour caught his eye when first he’d seen it earlier that day before leaving for the mission. But he’d be the first to admit that he could get used to wiping it from his face.

He looked down at the crumpled tissue in his palm and saw that pigment peppering the stark white, eyes unfocused as he thought about the kiss. How your lips felt so nice against his.

He thought about how you still wore that same lipstick right now. And even if it was a little smudged he’d have loved nothing more than to taste it again. He liked seeing you with lipstick on, a sight that hadn’t graced his eyes until today. But he liked it even more when it was smudged, knowing that was because of him.

You got it bad, Reyes.

You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed, waiting for him to snap out of his daze and help address the problem at hand. When he didn’t after a few seconds, worry seeped into your pores. Just how much blood had he lost?

“Robbie?” You called his name softly, almost tasting the sound on your tongue, “You feeling okay? Apart from you know…” the bullet lodged in his chest? A seemingly mild inconvenience to him right now.

He blinked as if shaking some stray thought from his head and apologised before shrugging off his leather jacket and grabbing the hem of his shirt, bunching up the material so you could see the wound on his chest.

Your breath caught. Just not for the reasons it should’ve.

“See?” He asked, and to be fair the wound was healing but the skin was still torn and the bullet was definitely still in there.

You pressed a gloved finger on either side of the wound, “It still hurts?” You asked, trying to see how far in there the bullet was lodged.

“Like hell, but it’ll be healed by morning once I get it out.”

“Sure, let's do it.” You pulled down the seat beside him and slid right in it.

“You don't have to do that-” you cut him off before he could finish.

“You took a fucking bullet for me, Reyes! The least I can do is get it out of you.” You didn’t mean to snap at him, truly you didn’t but seeing someone getting shot for you has a way of shortening tempers, “Sorry, I’m just trying not to freak out right now.”

The mission was a disaster. But at least you managed to retrieve the files you were sent to find, even if they were now stained with Robbie’s blood. And his blood. His blood was everywhere. On his shirt, his chest. Even your palms beneath the rubber gloves.

He took your hand where it rested limply in your lap and gave it a soft squeeze. The look on his face was one of concern, a line drawn between his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything, he never was any good with using his words. But he hoped his actions told you precisely what he wanted to say: It’s alright, you’re okay, I’ll be okay.

He was comforting you. He was the one who’d been shot and he was comforting you.

He arched his brow, silently asking if you were alright and you let out a breath, his warm touch comforting and you remembered then just what you came back here to do, “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

And his stomach lept.

You helped him out of his shirt, carefully tugging it over his head so he wouldn’t have to aggravate the hole in his chest even further. The material now lay in his lap and his chest was once again bared to you. You tried not to let yourself get distracted, truly you did. But he made it very, very hard. His skin was smooth and sweeping. His chest broad and firm.

You dared not look any lower than that, not when you were about to be pulling a bullet out of him.

“So, we gonna talk about it?” He asked as you sterilised some tweezers, eyes catching yours for just a second.

“You mean you getting shot for no reason?” You asked, knowing damn well that wasn’t at all what he was referring to.

“No reason? Chica, I’d much rather be in pain for a few hours than you be dead.” He looked up at you again briefly, frowning at the thought, “But nah, I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about that kiss.”

You swallowed. Hard.

Almost hoping he’d forgotten just so you didn’t have to have some kind of terribly awkward conversation. You dabbed away some of the excess blood from his chest, noticing how he winced slightly at the cold of the alcohol wipe on his inhumanly warm skin, “What is there to talk about? It was just for the mission.”

Oh that was one massive lie and he saw straight through it.

“Was it?” He asked, “Cause you could’ve fooled me.”

Why you were landed with quite possibly the least stealthy of all the team for a stealth mission you had no idea. Instead they sent you with an untrained, unkillable man who’d never been on a mission of any kind before in his life. And he’d just taken a bullet to the chest for you.

That wasn’t quite true. You knew exactly why he was sent on this mission with you. He wasn’t known to anyone outside of his neighbourhood or SHIELD. You were both the least likely or the team to be recognised on an undercover op mixing with civilians.

Yet here you were, running for your lives.

You ran along the hallway, turning right where Daisy in your ear told you to go. As you rounded a corner you felt yourself being shoved forward and before you knew it you were in a closet of some kind, Robbie at your back.

“They were gaining on us, the Rider sensed them coming.”

You nodded, exhaling a breath. Now there were people on either side of that hallway and you were stuck in the middle of them in a closet. With Robbie.

You flung your head back when you sighed, the back of your head colliding with his chest. “Sorry,” you mumbled, not realising how close he was to you. It was a small closet to be fair.

“What do we do?” He asked, his voice a half whisper and sounding even raspier than usual. A detail you absolutely did not need to notice under such sure circumstances.

“The only thing we can do,” you swallowed thickly, “Wait it out.”

You turned around, trying to get a better look around to see if there was anything of note in there that you could use to put pressure on his wound. There was nothing. Just boxes of files and a few bottles of bleach. So you did the only thing you could think of and tried to tear the hem of your dress. But the layers were thick and there was no obvious seam.

“You’ve got enhanced strength right?” You asked, taking the bottom of your dress in your hand and holding it out towards him, “Tear it off.”

“What?” He asked, the whites of his eyes catching the light that streamed in from the hallway.

“Just the underskirt!” So he did, taking the material between his hands and splitting it like it was paper. The perks of being possessed by a demon, you supposed. He got a decent chunk of your underskirt ripped off completely, the back of his hand grazing your thigh as he did. And you knew it was an accident. Of course it was. But god, did you wish it wasn’t.

He handed you the torn material and you folded it quickly before pressing it to his chest, blood already soaking it through. It was warm beneath your fingertips.

“Guys, they’re closing in on your location.” Daisy's voice came through your comms, “You better think of a good reason to be there, fast!”

“Shit…” you cursed under your breath, trying to think but it was hard to with your close proximity to Robbie and the stress of the situation. You couldn’t go out guns blazing. It was too public a setting. You had to keep cover but how?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

Your eyes widened, looking up to him in disbelief. It took a second to realise why he thought that was a good idea then it clicked. It was a solid plan. There was a party going on a few rooms over so the two of you could just be a pair of very horny stragglers hiding in a storage closet for some privacy. It was an undercover operation after all, that’s why you wore a dress in the first place.

So you kissed him. Your hands pressed up against his chest as you did. And he let out something resembling a moan at the gesture, posture relaxing as he reciprocated.

Finally. Fucking finally. Weeks of stolen glances and flirting came to a head. Only this was for the mission, it wasn’t real. The release of tension never came, it only built up even more.

But he kissed good. A hand on your cheek cradling it so gently that you could’ve mistaken this for the thousandth time he’d held it. And his lips were so soft. So warm. So very, very warm. He moved against you with such a tenderness, a benevolence like nothing you’d never felt and if it wasn’t for the boots approaching outside you would have let yourself thoroughly melt into his arms. He held you close, the arm around your waist sat gently, just barely ghosting over your form.

You were both getting so caught up in each other that when the door opened and light washed over you, you barely had to pretend to be startled at all.

“Um, excuse me? What are you doing here?”

Thankfully there was no flicker of recognition on the guard’s face. No accusations falling from his mouth . The only one they’d gotten a good look at was Robbie and he’d had his head on fire at the time, the demon’s reaction to him getting shot in the chest when he stepped in front of you as you rummaged through files. You couldn’t make a scene, so against the demon's usual way of doing things, you had convinced him to run.

“Oh we’re so sorry! We were just trying to find somewhere to be alone, you know.” You joked. You made a good show of it too. The collar of Robbie’s jacket gripped firmly between your hands and your dress disheveled like he’d been trying to tug it off. Some of your lipstick was even smeared across his mouth.

The guard sighed and lowered his torch, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” You both agreed, all too happy to oblige him when he suddenly stopped you, an arm shooting out to block the doorway, “Just one thing before you go.”

You could feel Robbie’s grip tightening on your waist, his body tensed and ready to strike. You kept your hands on his chest to make sure the jacket stayed open and hid the distinctive white lines they might have noticed from the previous encounter. Your palm rested directly over the bulletwound he’d sustained just in case.

“Sure!” You answered, happy that Robbie was letting you do all the talking given how on edge he was. This was his first undercover rodeo, you supposed.

“Have you seen a…guy with a flaming head?” The guard huffed and shook his head, realising how crazy it was now that he said it aloud, “Nevermind, just get outta here.”

And so you did, your heels in one hand and Robbie’s hand in the other as you quickly shuffled out of the storage cupboard and past the guards that hunted for you.

Cover: maintained. All it cost was a bullet to the chest and a kiss.

“What do you want me to say?” You asked, catching his eyes for just a second too long.

“Whatever you’d like to say.” He shrugged and then immediately regretted it given the tweezers currently embedded in his chest.

“You kiss good.” You blurted out. There was absolutely no point in denying it. He was a good kisser, a great one even. But maybe that was just hormones talking. The flirting between two of you was getting to the point of borderline hilarity before the mission. Even Coulson had noticed.

He chuckled, “I do, huh? You too.” He smiled then, a faint but genuine smile. And you could’ve sworn that the faintest tinge of red covered his cheeks.

“Yeah, of course you do. No need to be modest, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of practice.” He looked at you like you were joking, “What? You’re a good looking guy. There’s no way you haven’t had practice.”

“I haven’t. That was my first in a long time actually.”

“Yeah? How long?” You asked. At this point you were keeping him talking to make sure he wasn’t tense or focusing on you pulling the bullet out of his chest, but you were also just a little bit interested in the answer.

“Since before I left high school. If that even counts.” You looked at him shocked and he laughed a little, “Yeah, turns out having a demon inside you doesn’t exactly make it easy to meet people. What about you?”

“Since working at SHIELD? No, none at all. Not really any time for relationships, especially not with civilians.” You finally had a good grip on the slug and slowly tugged it towards you. Robbie winced and groaned in pain so you took his hand and let him squeeze out some of the tension.

“Almost…done!” You slapped the bullet into a metal dish and immediately pressed some gauze to the wound, applying pressure to it to stop the blood from leaking so much.

His hand came to cover yours as he blinked away the pain. Rubbing his shoulder you looked to him for any signs he might faint, “You good?” You asked and he nodded, eyes locking with yours. You kept your hand on his chest and he kept his covering yours, his gaze never faltering until you looked away to rummage in your bag for some painkillers.

“There some rule about fraternising with fellow agents or something?” He asked and you caught on to his meaning immediately.

“Not that I know of, why?” You asked, dropping two pills in his hand.

“Cause I wanna know how much trouble I’m in when I ask if I can kiss you again.”

He popped the pills between his teeth, grabbing a bottle of water to down them with. His eyes never left yours as he did it, glinting with mischief. And you couldn’t help but watch his Adam's apple move so smoothly as he swallowed.

“Oh baby, you’re about to be in all kinds of trouble. Just not with SHIELD.” He liked the sound of that. It was written on his face clear as day as his eyes darkened, “And you can kiss me whenever you like…Just not here,” you jabbed your thumb towards the lense mounted on the wall of the quinjet, red light blinking and all, “Cameras. And the rest of the team can probably hear us too.”

The last thing you needed was a live stream of the two of you making out on a monitor at HQ.

“Oh, we can. Loud and clear.“ Came Coulson’s voice over the intercom. You could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said it.

“Another time then?” He asked with a grin, honestly delighted in the fact that you considered kissing him again at all.

But god did he want you, he wanted you so badly and you knew it. He knew you knew it.

And oh, how fun it was to tease him. To dangle the proverbial carrot right in front of his nose. You wanted him too but it was even more fun making him wait and so beyond worth it to see the way his jaw clenched.

“Another time,” you confirmed

Tagging: @icy-spicy @spring-soldier @theamalgamateplaywright (the horny for ghost rider squad ☺️)

[21burritoseavey]

Hahah sorry 😬I meant y/n as the reader and Daniel are in a secret relationship

hey! I'm sorry this took so long. It's a little unedited and long...and for what?? but anywaysss i hope you enjoy it i kinda went a little crazy.

Hollywood Fix (d.s.)

Daniel always loved to spend time with his girlfriend, but since Why Don’t We’s album release back in January, all of his effort went into making music at the studio. Out of sheer love and passion for creating, his thoughts would be filled with new song ideas or random melodies he hummed quietly before bed. Daniel and Y/n only met up sometimes throughout the past few weeks. Y/n was busy herself of course. With homework piling up (literally) and work right after school, she hardly had time to come over, and when she did it was for a little while. Daniel would notice her slightly less cheerful mood when they’d FaceTime before saying goodnight every night. He wanted to remind his girlfriend how much he loved her.

With his Friday night free of work, he made a reservation for dinner, sending Y/n a fake urgent message to surprise her when she’d come over that same evening.

Y/n, I need you please come over

The door burst open just ten minutes later. Y/n leaned her arm on the door handle, tired and breathless as she scanned the kitchen and living room. “Daniel!” She called; her voice wavered in panic. The eerie silence of the house only made her more anxious. Daniel was crouched behind the grey L-shaped sofa in the living room, biting back the giddy laughter that tried to fall past his lips. Kobe squealed and squirmed as he saw Y/n and Daniel tried his best to shush the puppy in his arms as he watched her quietly.

“Daniel? Where are you? You got me all worried!” She yelled again, kicking her shoes off at the door out of habit. She walked over to the counter to set her keys down and as she lowered her gaze, she noticed Daniel’s phone sitting on the tabletop, readily showing the confirmation email for his reservation at the restaurant he’d talked about on their nightly call the night before.

Daniel lingered behind the couch a little longer than intended just to see her neutral lips curve into a toothed smile and he let Kobe leap out of his arms when he stood up. “Surprise!” He shouted happily, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Y/n shot back in surprise, wide eyed and open mouthed. After a few seconds of trying to wrap her mind around the fact her boyfriend was standing right there, she ran into his arms with a squeal, pressing her hand to her mouth as she giggled. “Dani!” She exclaimed, snuggling into his warm embrace. “I missed you!”

“Hey, my love.” Daniel kissed the top of her head. He dropped the flowers onto the couch and smoothed out the wisps of her hair with his free hand soothingly. “I missed you too.” He said quietly, learning back to press a few soft kisses to her lips.

Y/n stepped back and smacked his shoulder playfully, her joyous expression veiled with annoyed furrows. “You scared me, you dummy! No wonder that text was sketchy.” She tisked.

“Hey! I had to think quick, okay?” Daniel defended. He pulled her back into a tight hug and Y/n let them linger in each other’s arms for a moment before rushing over to the flowers she glanced at.

The bouquet of tulips slipped slightly in the brown paper wrapping, as fresh and soft as the sunset that bloomed outside. Y/n looked down at them fondly. Her fingers stretched out to touch the petals and she stared up at Daniel with a pout on her lips. “These are so pretty,” She pressed a hand to her heart and wobbled on the tips of her toes to give Daniel a kiss. He gladly accepted, sliding his arms around her waist and dipping her down just a little to kiss her deeper.

---

“Thanks for taking me out, Daniel. I needed this.” Y/n said sweetly, squeezing her grip of his hand as they sauntered down the footpath. He looked beside him and gave Y/n a warm kiss on the cheek, “don’t thank me yet," he whispered into her ear.

Daniel made a reservation at a newly opened restaurant downtown and as soon as he finally told Y/n, she ran to her brand new, emerald dress she hadn’t even touched yet, nearly ecstatic that she’d finally have an occasion to wear it. Daniel thought her excitement was cute, and on their extra slow walk to the restaurant - just to savour each other's presence - he complimented and flirted with her every chance he could. Teasing glares, blushing cheeks and light chatter filled their walk, until Y/n noticed...a crowd of people in the distance, near the restaurant’s entrance. She’d thought that they were merely there for dinner, since the place just opened and all, but they seemed like they...were waiting. Suddenly, it seemed all too familiar. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and peered at the large cluster of people through a narrowed gaze. Daniel stood beside her, confused. Y/n heard the high-pitched screams of what must’ve been excited fans and saw their small signs held up by flailing arms.

“Is that Hollywood Fix?” Y/n asked, gently tugging at Daniel’s hand.

Daniel met her gaze. His white button up shirt rose and fell with the soft evening breeze that murmured along the lit-up trees around them. “Very funny, Y/n.” He tisked.

“No, seriously. Look over there” Y/n shot her hand up to point at the bright blinks of light getting closer and closer.

Daniel lifted his gaze, noticing the black exterior of the cameras peeking through the mass of people. “Wh-what? What do we do?” Daniel paused in thought for a second, “Should we hide?” He puckered his eyebrows towards his girlfriend.

“No, you dummy!” Y/n slapped his arm. “Just let go of my hand...” She spoke gingerly, unravelling her fingers from his and she stepped further to the side of the footpath, “and... we’ll just have to stand further apart.”

Daniel nodded after a few seconds and wrung his hands nervously. “Okay, okay. Act natural.” He cleared his throat and raked a hand through his hair.

“You call that natural…” Y/n giggled, pressing a manicured hand to her mouth.

Daniel glared at her with a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Baby-” He started, only to get cut off by the sound of photos and fans right in front of him.

The interviewer nearly ran into Daniel in excitement. “Hey, Daniel! How’s it going dude?” He spoke with a sort of enthusiastic haste, shoving the microphone just below his chin as he waited for an answer. Y/n walked backwards to follow behind the both of them. She left a decent space between the two young men who talked. She was silent.

“It’s going well,” Daniel started, “how are you?”

“I’m great. What’s going on with the band? Any music coming soon?” The interviewer pulled a grin towards Daniel as they both weaved through the group of young people. Multiple camera guys walked backwards behind them too, catching every word that Daniel uttered through the mic. Daniel paused at times to give a fan a hug, or take pictures and sign autographs, but Y/n kept her distance. She walked silently down the walkway.

“Yeah, yeah. You know, we’ve got some stuff ready..” Daniel shrugged with a cheeky smile.

“Anyone with you tonight, or…?” The interviewer piped up. Y/n couldn’t help but lift her gaze at the question and she turned to Daniel to hear his reply.

Y/n hoped with everything in her that he’d say the truth, what they both wanted to finally tell the world but felt too scared or anxious to say. She, at times, loved the secrecy of their relationship. It was freeing not to worry about what his fans would think, but at the same time, it felt almost humiliating, like she was a dirty secret that his management didn’t want to crawl out his band’s perfect boyband image.

Daniel looked towards the interviewer with a toothy smile and bowed his head as he racked his brain for a lie. He stuttered out a “Nah...n- not right now, the band should be here soon though.” and let a strained smile play on his lips.

Y/n gulped hard at his words and dropped her gaze to her feet walking over the cracks of the footpaths, precariously trying not to step on them. It was a little game she always played when she was nervous. Daniel and the interviewer exchanged conversation while Daniel continued meeting his fans. Y/n tried to plaster on a friendly smile as they talked just in case she might appear in the frame, but after a few long moments, she let her lips droop into a frown.

She quickened her pace and slipped past them with an expressionless glare that wandered anywhere but them. Daniel noticed her but shrugged it off, watching her walk to the host stand.

The autumn sky met Y/n’s gaze. It was the perfect shade of orange, coloured by the slanting rays of the setting sun and she let her face soften at the sight of it. “It says here the reservation for Daniel Seavey is for two people?” The hostess glanced up.

Y/n drifted her head back towards the lady and smiled. “Yeah, he’ll be joining me later,” Y/n replied quietly. The hostess nodded and continued checking her in.

“Alright dude, we’ll see you later!” The interviewer shouted.

“Nice meeting you, bye!” Daniel couldn’t have been more thankful that the conversation finally ended. He let out a relieved sigh and studied the crowd for his girlfriend, but she had already disappeared through the doorway. He huffed and walked over to the host stand, mindlessly tapping his foot against the concrete as another couple checked in. The cameras kept filming from a few paces away until they watched him enter the restaurant.

On opening night, the restaurant was bustling and glowing with overlapping chatter and vibrancy. Fairy lights were strung along the ceiling and across the freshly painted walls. Y/n had made her way over to the table Daniel had booked. She smiled down at the vase of tulips that sat on the centre of the table and stuck at her fingers to pick one out and smell it.

“Y/n!” Daniel called through the loud room behind her. His voice startled Y/n and she popped the soft pink tulip back in the vase, watching it slip back into the water as Daniel settled into the seat across from her. “Hey, where’d you go?” He asked, panting slightly from rushing in so fast.

“I...” Y/n paused and thought about what she would tell him, but merely sighed and shook her head seconds later. “Nowhere, it’s fine.” She said, fidgeting with the gentle, green silk of her dress. “I’m just so hungry that I couldn’t wait.” She pulled a smile towards Daniel, but of course, he wasn’t fooled.

“Y/n,” He glared at her teasingly. “You could’ve waited for me,” he said gently.

“Oh and watch you lie about our relationship?” She murmured, lifting her glare to Daniel. “No thanks,” she unfolded the napkin a little too harshly and watched the petals of the flowers shake.

Daniel frowned towards her. “Lie? Wh-what are you talking about?”

“You lied Daniel... said you weren’t with anyone tonight.” she mumbled. Daniel opened his mouth to say something but the waiter behind Y/n walking towards the table stopped him.

“You know I can’t say that we’re together, Y/n.” Daniel whispered as the waiter lingered between them, pouring their glasses of water.

“I know, but you said you talked to management about it.” She lifted her gaze to Daniel and met his eyes with an equally upset expression.

Daniel stayed silent.

“You didn’t talk to them, did you?” Y/n asked.

Daniel sighed and leaned forward in his chair. “It’s not that simple, Y/n. You can’t have everything the way you want it.” He slid his hand across the table to tuck his hand in hers, but Y/n drew her arm back and dropped her gaze to the table. “Y/n,” he spoke gently. “Hey, listen to me,”

Y/n didn’t look up.

“My love, please, I planned this date so we could have fun, and not have to worry about all this other stuff.”

“It’s not just all this other stuff, Daniel. This is our relationship. Doesn’t it upset you that we can’t post about each other? Or that I can’t be there for you when you perform? Or that I can’t even be within 3 feet of you when we’re in public ‘cos your fans will go crazy?!” Y/n hadn’t realised how loud her voice had become until she received awkward glances from other customers. She leaned back in her seat and huffed. A roiling anger took root within her, and even though she tried to hide it, Daniel could see the tears pooling her eyes. They both took a few moments to calm down amidst the lively buzz of the restaurant.

“Yeah, it bothers me, Y/n. You’re right, I’ll try...and talk to them. You know, maybe they won’t agree at first but I’m not gonna give up, okay?” Daniel spoke up gently. Y/n nodded and let a small smile tug at the corners of her lips. She let their hands meet in the middle and intertwine.

“I love you...and we’ll find a way to figure this out, okay?” Daniel said, pulling a fake pout towards her. Y/n giggled lightly and pressed her fingers to the corner of her watery eyes carefully.

“M’kay...I love you.” Daniel leaned in again and held her face with his palm. Their noses bumped lightly before their lips met. They kissed, softly at first, then as Daniel turned Y/n’s head slightly, their kiss intensified, kindled by the heavy emotions released seconds ago and love that radiated from them, as strong and vivid as the warm lights surrounding them.

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[vivisextion]

I first saw Slipknot at age 14.

No one knows how I managed it. I'm not sure I even remember. These days, you have to be 16 or 18 to get into Standing areas. I do know I had to buy tickets on the phone, back in the old days (2005, that is). A singular ticket, too - none of my friends, not even the classmate who had gone with me to see Linkin Park the year before, was that into Slipknot.

But I HAD to see them. This was the Subliminal Verses tour cycle, and Vol. 3 was my first and favourite Slipknot album, even to this day. It's the reliable old warm blanket for my soul whenever I need it. It's on right now, as I write this.

My memory isn't that good, but luckily I unearthed a livejournal (livejournal!) diary entry about the event I made the next day.

August 16, 2005. I went right after school. I went to a very conservative Anglican secondary school, too. I tried not to get caught in the bathroom, as I coloured my nails black with permanent marker (I know, don't laugh) and changed into my standard metalhead baby outfit - Slipknot band shirt, black cargo shorts, and my pride and joy: steel-toe boots I somehow managed to cajole my parents into letting me own.

I caught the bus to the open-air war memorial park where the gig was going to be. I got there at 4pm, 4 hours early. A couple other maggots were already hanging around. I found myself surrounded by tombstones, and I read them all. It was the middle of the Hungry Ghost Festival, too - a very fitting time for Slipknot to pay a visit to this godforsaken hellhole of a small town I lived in. (Especially given the paranormal circumstances surrounding the making of Vol. 3.)

While I wandered around the venue (no security or sound guys were around at all), I spotted two white vans pull up to the stage, in the middle of a clearing. It was them! I spotted Joey and missed him by a hair's breadth. I was quickly ushered behind the stone archway entrance by security then.

(Funnily enough, while walking around, I got mistaken for Joey more than once. I am the same height as him, had the same long black hair, same pale skin, and was wearing almost exactly what he had been. One person claimed from behind, I was a dead ringer, apart from when I turned around, and they realised I was Chinese.)

It was soundcheck time. A sound guy testing the mics would say random things, like "testing one two three two one.... fudge fudge, I like fudge...." The band even did Purity, so us earlybirds were given a rare treat, and we screamed along from the entrance, and drummed our fists on the sides of nearby porta-potties. I hope no one was in there at the time. Whenever we got a glance of any of them, we'd scream and cheer. Finally they left again, but were soon to return.

This was the first time I'd been a part of the metal community. I was barely allowed internet in those days. But here, random strangers were friendly, striking up conversations like they'd been friends for years. Two big guys, called Trevor and Ted, looked out for me the entire gig after, keeping other big dudes from crushing me too much (I'm 5'3, remember). Other people commented on me being so baby, because I was only 14, and said they would take care of me.

When we were finally let in, right after the usher cut the rope, I ran in, screamed "WOOOHOOO!" along with a few friends I'd made. I only briefly stopped to receive this RoadRunner Records compilation CD from a roadie, then resumed running like a madman screaming and dashing into the VIP cage.

I was right up against the barricade - the first time I would ever be at a gig. People from assorted magazines and press took photos of us, and I think I got my photo taken about 10 times at least.

(This is how I got in trouble with my parents the next day. My photo had ended up in a local paper - you can see examples of that here. They had no idea what I'd been to see the night before, and were horrified when they saw what Slipknot looked like.)

We saw Sid filming us from the stage with a camcorder and screamed at him. We saw Jim and screamed at him too, and he flashed the victory sign back at us. I remember Metallica playing at the time, another one of my favourite bands.

The concert was a brutal religious experience I will never forget. People with their arms outstretched, crying and screaming out loud, moving like the devil possessed them.

The new friends around me made sure I was alright after every song! There were huge guys fainting behind us who had to get carried out, but I endured, a tiny 14 year old child. We got a family speech as per tradition, of course. "Are you guys out there all looking out for each other? We're all one big family, and we gotta look out for each other." What Corey said held true - strangers hugged, shook hands, talked, and made friends. I was heartened by how close-knit the maggot community was. It really did feel like a family, and it's felt like that ever since.

Of course, I did my first Jump The Fuck Up. It is possibly the most euphoria I've ever experienced all at one go. (Later, in 2020, I was extremely disappointed that I didn't get to do it again in London.)

They did the death masks for Vermilion, and I remember Chris helping Sid fix his mask and shirt when they'd changed back. Sid hung out near Clown's drums for most of the time too, and hugged him from behind and just latched on at one point. It was pretty adorable.

Fun fact: The version of Eyeless you hear on the 9.0 Live album is from Singapore, as is Eeyore. There are very few photos and videos from the crowd of this gig, because in 2005, very few people had camera phones. The crowd at the Slipknot gig in 2020 was a sea of arms with phones, filming the gig rather than experiencing it. Yes, I'm going to be that cranky old geezer who complains about the good old days.

Joey as usual, was fucking amazing and never failed. However, due to the fact that I was right up front, only his tiny head was visible behind his vast drum set, I couldn't see him the entire gig.

Amazingly, the government told Slipknot they were not allowed to do obscene gestures, curse, vomit (possibly due to the decomposing crow pre-show ritual), simulate humping on objects, throw faeces, or jump off stage (looking at you, Sid). I don't think our totalitarian government knew who they were dealing with, because watch what happens next.

Near the end of the gig, Corey tells the crowd “your government has given us a laundry list of things we aren’t allowed to do, your government has told us we are not allowed to swear”. Crowd goes “BOOOOOOOOO” and Corey goes “BUT WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK!!” And they launch into Surfacing, the last song. Everyone riots. Best night of my life.

You can find the setlist from that gig here. It had everything I wanted and more.

This story later got immortalised when Kerrang asked maggots for gig stories, for an article which came out in 2020. I had forgotten entirely, until people began messaging me to tell me, and one friend sent me a scan of it!

On the way out, I managed to get a shirt. I remember calling my best friend at the time, and got everyone at the merch booth to go "IF YOU'RE 555 THEN I'M 666" for her. This shirt has since been lost to the landfill, because my Christian mother took it upon herself to dispose of it the first opportunity she got. Needless to say, our relationship is not very good.

After that, I even managed to get that Roadrunner compilation album they were giving out signed. The band was staying at the Carlton. Unfortunately, Joey wasn't there, neither was Clown, and Mick was swarmed by guitar nerds so, 6/9 it is. It is a great regret of mine that I'll never have anything signed by him, nor will I ever get to see him perform ever again.

The next day, I went to school, my head swimming. Yes, I went to see Slipknot ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. I was a giant bruise, from my ribs and my chest, to my hips and knees, from being slammed into the barricade like a screen door in a hurricane. Most of all, my sore, headbanged-out neck could barely hold my head up. Classmates thought I had been in a fight. I was torn between battle-scarred exhaustion and hyperactive ranting about the most amazing gig of my short life (it still is, to this day). When teachers spoke to me, I wanted to reply, "Fuck trigonometry! I've just seen SLIPKNOT. Do you not understand that my world is different? Do you not understand that *I* am now different?"

My country was a small, conservative town that Slipknot had graced with their unholy presence. Corey Taylor once said that where he grew up in Iowa had a way of making a 16 year old boy feel like a 36 year old man (or something to that effect). I felt that in my weary bones as a teenager, being from a place just like that. Years later, Watain would run into worse trouble, and wouldn't even be allowed to perform. The Christian stranglehold is stronger than ever. It was a good thing that back then Slipknot had the element of surprise, striking serpent-fast and choking this society by the neck for a too-brief time, before they departed.

After that, my desire to play the drums only grew like a weed. Joey Jordison had, has, and will always inspire me as a drummer, and seeing the beast live (or what little I could spy behind the massive riser) had only spurred me on. I had always been a noisemaker, be it driving my parents mad with chopsticks on pots and pans, or driving my teachers mad with pencils on my desk. But of course, my parents wouldn't have any of it. I'd have to wait a good 14 more years before I'd be able to afford lessons and later, a kit of my own. Better late than never, right?

There will never be enough words to describe the impact Joey has had on my life. And it isn't just Slipknot, either. I could write another essay on his time with the Murderdolls and its influence on my own gender-non-conforming ways. Suffice to say, my wardrobe doesn't look too dissimilar to his during the early Dead in Hollywood days.

I told my boss I could not come into work today. I was grieving. I said that my music teacher died, as I didn't think she'd understand the magnitude of my loss. In a way, it's true. And I am not the only one Joey has nudged on the path to being a musician, that much is certain. To the rest of us, I wish strength and love for you in this difficult time. The best way to honour Joey, who truly loved music, both the creation and appreciation of it, is to pass that gift on. Teach it to someone. He is the reason I picked up the sticks in the first place, and one day, they'll be handed on, the heavy metal baton for the next generation.

And finally: remember that the ones we have lost are never truly gone.

Vinnie

P.S. See if you can spot me in the crowd photos in this post!

[bright-molina]

Babylon - Everything I Didn’t Say (part 2)

synopsis: As the months go by you find that not everything is always easy. Bobby continues trying to make it big and you continue working on Luke’s song. Time starts getting away from both of you until one day everything changes more than you thought possible.

word count: 5.3k

pairing: Luke Patterson x reader

warnings: a little more of reader and Bobby working through the grieving process, mentions of a car accident

a/n: I’m so late but this is for @jatpx5sos​​ Week Day Four: Sad Song! The song I used was Babylon which is like, a vibe, but also the lyrics get me. Part two of the Everything I Didn’t Say Series and we’re definitely picking up now.

Also disclaimer, I know absolutely nothing about law so keep that in mind

part one

The songbook kept its place in your bag but it felt less heavy now. 

Every time you opened the book it got a little easier. Soon enough you were finishing your list and you could feel the spark that had nearly disappeared growing stronger once again. 

Getting back into music helped. At first it was just listening as Bobby messed around on his guitar when you finally dared to go back into the garage with him. It was one of those times that you’d stumbled across a shoebox filled with pictures and notes, much like the one you had in your room. 

“I forgot we kept those in here,” Bobby had spoken softly as he looked through all the pictures with you. 

“I didn’t know you guys had these.” You smiled as you flipped through polaroids and photo booth sheets and negative film strips. “Honestly didn’t think you were picture people.” 

“We weren’t,” It was then that Bobby recalled one memory in particular. “Alex showed up for rehearsal once with some pictures he’d gotten developed for you. Said you liked them cause they were reminders of memories that made you happy for when you needed them. After that we just kinda started collecting them.”

“I -” You paused as you thought back, now being able to recall dozens of little moments you didn’t think twice of at the time. “I never knew.” 

Bobby looked up from the picture he’d been looking at before walking over and handing it to you. It was one of all five of you the morning before a gig they’d gotten. 

“Keep it,” His voice came out soft and you were a little surprised but he quickly moved on after reassuring you that it was okay. “Let me show you something I’ve been working on.”

When the coffee place you and Bobby frequented started hosting open mics you were the one to suggest he sign up. When he finally decided to, you were always at the very front alongside Rose. And when she started performing with her new band you were just as eager to support her.

The two of you had gotten considerably closer over the last few months and she was the only one that knew you were working on the song Luke had started. She’d been beside you when you first tried and it had very quickly and very easily grown into talking and the occasional songwriting session you realized you had missed.

You were the first one she gave tickets to when Rose and the Petal Pushers got a gig at a particularly popular club. It was the day of the show as you were standing in line that you finally gathered the courage to tell Bobby. What you didn’t know was that he had news of his own.

“Guess what I’ve been doing”

“I need to tell you something”

The amusement laced with a bit of nerves was more obvious than ever. In both of you. Bobby was the first one to work through it, though, as he tried to put off telling you what he’d been about to say. “You first.”

“You know,” For just a moment you hesitated, thinking of the songbook you’d left behind for the first time since receiving it. “You know that song you said Luke was writing? I’ve been trying to finish it.”

For a moment Bobby didn’t say anything and you weren’t quite sure what was going through his head. Your worry only lasted for a second before he practically beamed at you.

“That’s amazing Y/N,” There was nothing but pride on his face as he spoke his next words. “Luke would love that you’re doing this again.”

“He really would.”

And for the first time in six months, right there outside a concert venue, you thought about Luke and Reggie and Alex and didn’t immediately feel a little broken inside. The cracks were starting to heal and though you knew it wouldn’t always be this easy, it was a start.

“Tell me your news now.” You were the one who grinned then as you took a couple steps forward in line. When you stopped to look at Bobby, though, you saw a look you hadn’t seen in a while. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and he was staring at the ground beneath his feet with concentration twisted on his face.

“I, uh,” He just barely managed to look up at you and you knew then something was bothering him. “Some guy called me after that open mic thing at the coffee place the other day. Said they were interested and now I have a meeting with some producer in a couple days.”

“Bobby that’s great!” You smiled right away but he didn’t seem to notice your excitement for him.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna go.”

The two of you took a couple more steps forward and you pulled out the tickets Rose had given you, taking a second to compose your own thoughts. Finally you asked, “Why not?”

“I don’t,” His stare once again returned to the floor. “I don’t want to do this alone. I wanted to do this with you and Alex and Reggie and Luke but they aren’t here and I just -”

You could see him spiraling quickly and so you reached for him gently, just as he had done for you dozens of times over the last few months. Bobby turned towards you then and found only the most reassuring look in your eyes. He was reminded then that no matter what thoughts filled his head he could tell you absolutely anything.

“I don’t think I can do this without them.”

“Of course you can,” You paused only to hand the person at the door your tickets, stopping just inside the door to make sure he actually heard the words you were saying. “You think those boys would let you bail out on this opportunity? They’d want you to do this more than anyone. You still have me and I’m telling you you’ve got this. Now what is it you always told each other when one of you got like this.”

Bobby laughed as the phrase echoed clearly in his head and for a second he was reminded of the last time he’d heard it. His smile softened a bit but it still remained as he repeated the words. “Own your awesomeness.”

“Exactly,” You nodded firmly, oblivious to the memory that was playing in his head. “You’re going to that meeting even if it means I have to force you there myself and you’re going to crush it.”

*

Three days later Bobby met you at the coffee shop that had become a safe haven for the two of you. You were sitting at the table right by the windows as always with his usual tea already waiting for him. It took no time at all for him to start telling you everything.

“Most of it sounds pretty okay.”

You knew right away there was something missing to the story, his eyes had moved to train on the table. “But?”

“They asked about experience and I told them about Sunset Curve,” He stopped bouncing his leg just long enough to take a long drink from the mug in his hands before resuming the action. “They want me to change my name.”

“I -” You frowned as you leaned forward on the table, not too sure if you’d heard the right thing. “What?���

“Apparently your dad did too good a job of keeping our names out of all the papers after -” You knew exactly what Bobby meant. Neither of you had even known any reporters were looking for you until you’d been cornered a few days after the accident. “Anyway they said something stupid about not wanting my name connected to the whole thing.”

“So they want you to change it in order to separate yourself?” You watched as he silently nodded. The only acknowledgement he gave of the proposition he’d been given. “What do you think about it?”

“I don’t know,” Bobby gave a heavy sigh before throwing back the rest of his tea. The cup clattered against the table and he leaned forward, thoughts racing back and forth in his mind. “I don’t want to separate myself from it. It happened and it's a part of me and it always will be. But changing my name doesn’t take that away, you know?”

You glanced at him and found him deep in his own thoughts. “Yeah. I guess not.”

When Bobby looked at you he knew. You’d always been able to read him easily but he could do the same thing now. Your fingers twisted the ring covered in butterflies that Rose had given you for your birthday back and forth and he knew. You didn’t know what to say and he wasn’t too sure how to tell you that was okay.

So instead he opted for changing the focus of the conversation. “Tell me how the song’s coming along.”

And it worked. Immediately you grinned and pulled out the songbook to show him your progress. It wasn’t long before you launched into an explanation of what you wanted to do, anything and everything else being pushed away to the back of your mind.

Only a couple of weeks later you were getting ready for his first show alongside Rose. The three of you had slept on the various couches in your living room the night before and while Bobby had left earlier, you and Rose were taking your time.

It was then, though, that you realized Bobby had taken your only means of transportation. When you brought it up Rose only smiled. “Someone’s picking us up.”

“Who’s someone?” You couldn’t help the smirk that flashed on your face, as you scribbled more notes in the margins of the songbook. “Like a date?”

“Just someone,” Rose looked over at you then only to find you with a pencil in your hands. It was the same position she found you in more often than not. “You know there’s a few people I know who I think you’d like.”

That comment made you look up and as hard as you tried, you couldn’t help the image of Luke that appeared in your head. You thought of him. Of flashes of moments. Hands held, smiles that were a bit too soft, looks that lasted a little too long. A collection of almosts that never turned into more for fear of ruining what you’d now lost either way.

You shook your head much too easily for her liking. “I’m okay.”

“Y/N, I’m telling you this because I love you,” Rose moved to sit beside you and gently set her hand on top of the songbook you barely ever let out of your sight. “Eventually you’ll finish the song and when that happens you don’t want to jump head first into something you aren’t ready for. You’re doing so good and I’m proud of you. There’s a lot more out there, though, and if you want I can help ease you into it.”

You knew she was right. She always was.

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready,” You promised her and she accepted the answer. Then you pointed to the page under her hands. One that was clean, sharp white pages as opposed to the well loved ones she was used to seeing. “If it makes you feel better this is a new one I’m working on for Bobby.”

“Can I see?” Rose looked at you excitedly and waited until you nodded to start reading the words on the page.

It was as you watched a grin grow larger on her face while she read the lyrics that you smiled and reached for the camera you’d invested in after finding the pictures in Bobby’s garage. You stood and dragged her out of the room with you.

“Come on,” You took her into the backyard where the sun was shining high in the sky, both of you ignoring the chill that came with the winter months. You started fiddling with the buttons of the digital camera you’d only just figured out how to work.

Rose watched you play around with the buttons for a few moments before shaking her head in amusement. “When’d you get into photography?”

“I’m not,” You moved to stand next to where she was and beamed at her. “I just like keeping the memories.”

You weren’t surprised at all when only a month and a half later Bobby was giving you tickets to a show he’d booked at the Troubadour.

“Bobby this is amazing,” You grinned as you hugged him, the envelope clutched tightly in your hands. The two of you were once again at the coffee shop but this time you’d moved towards the back.

The last time the two of you had been there a few days before several people had recognized him, cutting into your conversation more than once. This time you’d agreed to take precautions.

“Trevor.”

“What?”

“There’s lots of people around,” Bobby watched as your face fell and he quickly shook his head, twisting a bit in his chair to face you completely. “Just when we’re out like this. I’m still -”

But he didn’t continue. Nevertheless you knew what he meant so instead you gave a short, awkward laugh. “That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

There was a pause for a moment and you had no clue what to say. This was completely new territory and you’d be lying if you said the whole thing didn’t throw you off a bit. A sudden shrill beeping noise cut through the silence and Bobby pulled out his phone, frowning when he saw the number.

Instead of answering, though, he quickly pressed the red button and gave you his full attention. “Tell me about what you’re working on.”

He still knew you better than anyone and watched as you eagerly pulled out the almost pristine songbook. The one filled with new projects the two of you had started together. He shook his head though and nodded towards your bag. “Forget those. Show me what you’ve been writing.”

You knew exactly what he meant. The song Luke had started. The very one he knew you’d been struggling with recently. Your smile turned softer then and you pulled out the other songbook. “Alright.”

The two of you sat together for a while longer. It was different writing with him than it was writing with Rose. You bounced ideas off of him and he told you exactly what he thought, good or bad. He helped you think of how the melody could go and what might work better. It was simple and easy and an experience you had missed over the last few weeks.

That only made it a bit harder when someone came in and made a beeline for your table. Bobby introduced him to you as his manager and soon enough he was apologizing as he was dragged away with a promise to call you later.

Once the car he’d gotten into pulled away you let your smile fall as a sigh escaped you. Then you caught sight of the envelope on the table and you slowly reached for it. Inside was three tickets and you really couldn’t help the way your frown deepened as you read the words printed in big bold letters. Trevor Wilson: Live at the Troubadour.

*

“I have something for you.”

Two months after playing the Troubadour, Bobby showed up at your house at almost midnight looking wide awake and excited. You could count the number of times you’d seen him since then on one hand. You could understand the fact that he was busy well enough but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially knowing what was coming up soon.

“Hello to you too,” You sighed with a tired look in your eyes. His interruption was more than welcome, tearing your attention away from the exams you had been studying for. Where Bobby had jumped right into making music full time, you had been ambushed with work when you started school again a semester late.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes,” Bobby repeated his own words and waited until you did so. You could feel him reach for one of your hands, open it, and then place something in your palm. “Alright you can look now.”

You were met with a cd case that had a picture of him on the cover. Almost immediately you knew what it was and you gasped excitedly as you read the title and opened the case. “No.”

“Yes. That’s the very first copy of the EP,” Bobby laughed when you ran past him and towards the cd player, fumbling as you raced to put it on. “I wanted you to have it.”

Moments after you pressed play the sound of an electric guitar filled the room and your delight bubbled over. Soon you and Bobby were both jumping all around the room as the two of you screamed along to every song at the top of your lungs.

“You missed my favorite part though,” He announced a while later as he opened the cd case and removed the little booklet. You set down your camera, having insisted on taking a picture of him with it, and moved towards him, watching as he flipped to the first page.

Underneath the album art and lyrics was a list of credits. Bobby was quick to point out one line in particular.

Written by: Y/N Y/L/N and Trevor Wilson

“We did this together,” He said, watching as you stared at the words with wide eyes. 

He could very easily recall the dozens of conversations you two of you had had over the last several months. There had been more than a few moments he hadn’t been sure he could get through. Moments that he had powered through thanks to you. “I’m sorry I haven’t been the best at keeping in touch lately. That’s on me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” But as soon as the words left your mouth he was hugging you tightly.

“You didn’t have to stay,” He held you a little tighter as the realization hit him. This feeling, the one of having you by his side, was familiar. Welcoming in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. It reminded him of everything he had had before. Everything the two of you had lost. “But you did.”

You weren’t too sure where the sudden flood of emotion came from but you weren’t opposed to it. It was something you had missed. And so you held on a little tighter in an effort to silently show it. “I always will.”

Things were a little bit better after that. Sometimes it was just the two of you while other times Rose joined you. There were even a few occasions when she brought Ray along and the four of you just talked about anything that came to mind. That only lasted a couple weeks though.

A month after the release of the EP, Bobby was pulled away for a show and the visits became calls. Eventually even the calls became more sporadic. Show after show happened and while you tried to go to some you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to go to all of them.

Especially considering it was July again already.

Four days, you thought to yourself as you stared at the words on the pages of the now well worn journal. There were still a few bits and pieces that weren’t quite done yet. Nothing you had tried lately was working and you hadn’t been able to finish it. Not alone.

“You can take a break from it, you know.” Rose told you after watching you drop your head to the table.

“It distracts me.” Your voice came out muffled and when you turned to lay your head more comfortably in your arms she noticed the way you seemed off. And she knew exactly why.

“It makes you feel better,” Rose waited until you nodded in confirmation before disappearing from the room, returning moments later with an acoustic guitar she held out to you. “Do you know how to play it?”

“I, uh,” You slowly sat up in your seat again as you stared at the guitar. “Yeah. A little.”

For a second, though, you sat unnaturally still. The timing of the moment pulled a very particular memory to the front of your mind. When you reached for the guitar your hand was shaky and you gulped, recalling the event you were thinking of.

“Luke taught me,” You adjusted the guitar and you were almost certain you could still feel his hands moving yours to the right place on the instrument. “They - they all did. They taught me a little of everything for when I wanted to add music to the songs and they -”

As hard as you tried you couldn’t push away the stinging behind your eyes. You did, however, manage to keep the tears in. “For when they weren’t there.”

“Play then,” Rose smiled gently as she sat back down beside you. “Maybe it’ll help.”

You weren’t too sure if she meant with the song or with the overwhelming amount of feelings and memories that had overtaken you as the one year mark of the Orpheum show quickly approached. You listened to her though and soon enough you were strumming a few chords a bit warily.

The hesitation didn’t last long. It was easy to get lost in the music after only a couple minutes. You didn’t even notice when Rose snuck your camera out of your bag and took a picture of you working on it.

Only an hour later you were excitedly asking her if you could use her house phone. The number you dialed was Bobby’s, eager to tell him your news. You had finally finished the song. Yours and Luke’s last song together.

There was no answer though. Instead the voicemail message rang loud in your ear. Hey! It’s Trevor Wilson. Can’t come to the phone right now but leave a message.

Despite not being surprised to hear the name on the message it still threw you off a bit. With a quiet sigh you hung up the phone without leaving a message and turned back to where Rose was sitting. Your smile returned then and you walked back over feeling strangely at ease.

She looked up when you sat back down next to her and you paused for only a moment before asking, “Can I play it for you?”

Rose nodded and dropped the pen in her hands while pushing the sheet music away from her. “Of course.”

And so you played the song for the very first time. You were able to get through the part you’d written with little difficulty. It wasn’t until you reached the part of the song that Luke had written that you hesitated. The crack in your voice was evidence enough of the memories playing in your head. You focused instead on the words he’d written to you, pushing back the tears in your eyes.

The sheer level of emotion in your voice brought tears to Rose’s eyes. You were reliving one of the worst moments of your life, sure, but she was also positive then that you were going to be okay. This was the last step you’d needed to take and she was more than happy to be there with you in that moment.

Rose was quick to take the guitar out of your hands as soon as the last chord died out. You didn’t even realize the tears had fallen until she pulled you in for a hug. She held you close until she was sure your silent cries had stopped, waiting until your breathing evened and the tears were nothing but stains on your cheeks.

Finally she pulled back to look at you and nodded. “It’s ready.”

Three days later you finally saw Bobby again. It was near closing but the two of you sat in the coffee shop like always. Near the back away from people again, but still. He looked a little tired but for the most part he was still him. You had to remind yourself of that when he told you he would be busy the next day.

“I can’t do this alone, Bo -” You shut your eyes, shook your head, and gave a heavy sigh. “Trevor.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” Bobby - Trevor - whatever it was he insisted on going by leaned forward on the table, catching your attention again. “I tried to get out of this show, I really did.”

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a year since -”

“I know.” Bobby could tell what you meant even when you cut yourself off.

Frankly that had been the very reason he hadn’t minded being kept busy the last few weeks. But he’d been so caught up in shows and promotions and everything else that he’d forgotten he wasn’t the only one remembering that night a year ago.

“The second I get some time off I promise I will be right by your side.” He waited until you were looking at him again to continue. “We’ll go see them and you can play him your song. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” It took you a few moments until you agreed but you did. The knowledge that Bobby was still right there did in fact comfort you a bit. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

*

It took four weeks and a lot of rescheduling of Trevor’s schedule before finally the opportunity came up. To his credit, though, he did in fact start dragging you places with him if you were up for it. Especially the recording studio where the two of you and Rose had just spent hours in a few nights before messing around.

Finally one year and a month after the night at the Orpheum you were meeting Bobby to go see your boys together. You’d planned to meet him at the studio building though since the only thing he couldn’t get out of was a meeting they’d scheduled last minute.

You were on your way to the building, your old backpack on one shoulder, guitar case on the other, and a textbook in your hands. Every time you stopped you shifted them, trying to get more comfortable carrying everything.

You weren’t used to carrying that many things. Not at all. That was evidenced by the way you shifted everything on your person every single time you stopped at a crosswalk. 

Your backpack was falling off one shoulder, filled with pictures and lyrics you’d been collecting. The guitar case on your other shoulder at the very least stayed in place. The textbook in your hands you’d just picked up was quickly growing much too heavy when paired with everything else.

Meanwhile Bobby sat just a few blocks away in an office that was much too pristine for his liking. There wasn’t a single thing out of place and it did nothing to calm the anxiety quickly filling him up. 

The bouncing of his shoes against the linoleum floor was the only sound echoing loudly through the room. His focus was on his own reflection staring back at him from the glass table under his hands. He wasn’t too sure how he’d landed himself there in the first place.

Finally, he worked up the courage to speak, “No.”

“Trevor, these are good songs,” The executive he’d already forgotten the name of spoke in a tone that didn’t leave much room for arguing. That wouldn’t stop him though. “Perfect for your first album.”

“No. I’m not using them.”

“You will.”

“I’m not going to!” These were the people that held his career in their hands but Bobby couldn’t bring himself to care. He only cared about one thing. “They’re not mine. They belong to a friend that I lost and I am not doing that to him!”

One cold, emotionless smile paired with a chuckle void of any sort of empathy told him there was no taking anything back now. “You don’t really have a choice in the matter.”

You weren’t expecting your phone to ring so when you stopped in the crosswalk to dig it out of your bag you missed the walk light completely. People all around you grumbled as you shifted all your things again until finally you looked at the little screen to see Bobby’s number.

“I know, I’m running late. I’m almost there, B -” You were suddenly reminded of the people along with the building across the street. “Trevor.”

“They want me to use Luke’s songs for the album.” For a moment all Bobby heard was the sound of traffic on the other end as he paced the empty hallway. Finally, to his relief, he heard your voice on the other end of the phone held tightly to his ear.

“What are you talking about?”

“The songs Sunset Curve never recorded.” Bobby stopped pacing then and leaned against the wall, thinking of what the two of you were supposed to be doing instead. “I gave you the songbook back when you left it here after you and Rose visited but they saw it before then. Word spreads fast and they’re saying it’s in my contract.”

“Bobby, what are you talking about? What contract?” You didn’t even realize he hadn’t corrected you.

“The one that signed me to the label. There’s a section on writing and credits in the fine print and if I don’t take credit for the songs Luke wrote then they will. Y/N, I can’t let them do that. He worked hard on those. They don’t care though. As far as their concerned he doesn’t need the credit since -”

“Since he’s dead.” Somehow the words sounded harsher coming out of your mouth. Bobby only nodded despite the fact that you couldn’t see him.

“There’s no choice then, is there?” You shook your head as you adjusted the guitar once more, getting ready to actually walk across the street.

Your anger blinded you. You knew better than anyone else the effort that went into writing all those songs. Late nights drifting into early mornings until some semblance of a song filled every page in countless journals.

Even now you could still remember the spark in Luke’s eyes whenever he finally managed to work something out. The eager bounce in his step every time he declared he had something to show you. The ease with which the words just flowed out of him. You were never happier than in those moments you spent writing beside him.

“Bobby I have an idea.”

“What?”

“I wrote some of those songs with Luke, right?” You glanced down at the textbook in your hands and for the first time since you’d been forced to go into a field you had no interest in by your parents you smiled. Introduction to Entertainment and Intellectual Property Law.

“Yeah. What are you saying?” Bobby was already piecing it together though, already feeling slightly more at ease than he had been before.

“I’m saying we put my name and his together.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw the walk sign flash on and you started crossing the street. You opened the book with your free hand, oblivious to anything and everything else. “Partial credit is better than nothing right?”

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right.”

“I always am, aren’t I?” You grinned as you stared down at the table of contents, already knowing exactly where to look. “I’m right down the street just give me a couple minutes to -”

Everything happened too fast.

All you were focused on was the situation you’d found yourself in and how to fix it. You didn’t notice the commotion of people behind you and in front of you scrambling to get out of the way. You didn’t see the car skidding past their red light, screeching and honking from every direction left behind in their wake. You didn’t hear Bobby shouting for you over the phone from where it had fallen.

All you saw surrounding you when you opened your eyes was a dark room with no one else in it.

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[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Of Blushes and Butterflies

Pairing: Reggie Peters x Luke Patterson

Word Count: 1.8K 

Warnings: None? 

A/N: Happy holidays @penguin-writes-books! I’m your secret santa for the @jatpdaily Secret Santa event! I present you with a Ruke (with slight background willex) alive!au featuring Smart Reggie and a little bit of background Proud Dad Ray Molina. I really hope you like it!! <3

___

Luke knew he shouldn’t have left all his homework for the day after the band’s Orpheum showcase. His whole body felt ablaze with energy but none of it could be channeled towards his physics. Fortunately, he knew a certain green-eyed, dark-haired boy who was great at physics and would certainly help him out. So, he pulled out his phone and texted Reggie.

At the last second, Luke pulled his thumb away from the screen before pressing send on the message. Instead navigating to the call button. He faltered only briefly before pressing it, his breath catching in his throat as he waited to hear the boy’s soft and smooth voice.

“Hey Luke, what’s up?” Reggie asked cheerfully, picking up the phone after the first ring.

“Hey, Reg,” Luke responded, trying to fight back the heat in his cheeks just from hearing his friend’s voice.

He wasn’t entirely sure when the bassist had started making him feel so flustered all the time, normally Luke was cool, calm, and collected and Reggie was one of his oldest friends. Now suddenly he was finding himself at a loss for words in his presence, tongue tied and tripping over himself for the boy’s approval.

He blamed it on the chemistry incident. He never should’ve taken the guy’s bait while they waited for Julie to arrive for practice that day. They all knew that there was nothing but friendship between Luke and Julie and yet when Reggie and Alex had taunted him about their on-stage chemistry, Luke just had to prove them wrong. That’s how he had ended up staring deep into one of his oldest friend’s eyes, wondering how he’d never noticed the little flecks of gold and brown in them or all the tiny freckles dotting his nose and his cheeks.

“I, uh, might’ve put off my physics homework and need some help,” he answered sheepishly and he hear Reggie chuckle quietly on the other end, likely unsurprised. “D’you think you could come over?”

“I’ll be there in a few,’ Reggie responded before hanging up.

Luke flopped back onto his bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling dopily at the thought of the green-eyed boy on his way to him. Boy was he whipped.

___

Reggie was pretty sure Luke was going to be the death of him, but what a way to go.

He had spent his Sunday afternoon after their spectacular showcase at the Orpheum pressed side-by-side with the brunet, their backs pressed against Luke’s headboard while Reggie played physics tutor.  

He didn’t mind it. He knew everyone perceived him as the “dumb” one of the group and he understood why. He was usually the last one to catch on to social cues and he wasn’t the most observant of the group. However, Reggie was great at school and it was something he was really proud of. Science and math especially came really easy to him, enough so that he was on the advanced track for both at their high school. Ray had even started hanging his test grades up on the fridge with Carlos and Julie’s, the family practically adopting him when they learned about his poor home life. So no, he didn’t mind playing tutor to his friends. He actually really liked it, especially when it meant an afternoon spent pressed against a certain floppy-haired guitarist who only wore cutoffs.

He blamed Luke and his stupid, confident, mic-sharing chemistry for the butterflies that now swarmed in his stomach every time he saw the boy, though he wouldn’t trade that moment for the world. Their lips so close it took Reggie’s break away, and then the guy had the audacity to kiss his fingers and press them to Reggie’s lips with that cocky smirk as if Reggie wasn’t already aware he was bi.

It was with thoughts of how Luke’s actual lips might feel pressed against his own or how it might feel to thread his fingers through Luke’s hair that Reggie entered their Monday afternoon practice with running through his mind.  

Luke had traded the t-shirt he’d worn to school for one of his signature cut-offs (it was a shame the school dress code prohibited sleeveless shirts but it was probably better for Reggie’s grades this way) and his flexing biceps were on full display as he tuned his guitar. Reggie gulped before pressing forward into the studio, picking up his bass and fiddling with the tuning pegs as well, trying to keep his gaze away from his best friend’s arms. Fortunately, practice went off without a hitch, Reggie to focused on the music to be ogling Luke. It wasn’t until after practice that his brain decided to betray him.

“So, are we hanging out for a bit?” Luke asked flopping down on the couch after they’d put away all their instruments.

“Flynn is coming over in a bit so you guys are welcome to stay,” Julie shrugged, taking a seat in one of the arm chairs while Alex sat across from her.

“Is it alright if I invite Willie?” He asked, already pulling out his phone to send a text to his boyfriend.

“Go ahead,” Julie responded with a knowing smirk as Alex grinned down at his phone.

“So what’re we gonna do?” Luke asked excitedly and Reggie raised his brow at the bot.

“You have a physics lab due,” Reggie said, eyes flicking between Luke and his backpack.

“Not until Wednesday!” Luke protested and Reggie tilted his head as if to say ‘come on, man.’

“You should start working on it now, babe,” Reggie said, staring pointedly at Luke, only realizing too late what he’d let slip out.

“Did you just call me ‘babe’?” Luke asked turning to stare wide-eyed at him, both boys trying desperately to fight off the color rising to their cheeks.

“I, uh, I was just trying it out,” Reggie stammered, trying to hide the slip-up.

“I like it,” Luke smiled sheepishly and Reggie thought for sure that the butterflies in his stomach would burst out of him with how frantically they were fluttering.

“O-okay,” he responded, plopping down on the other side of the couch and burying his face in his notes to try to hide his red cheeks.

Despite sitting on the opposite side of the couch, somewhere along the line Reggie had migrated over to Luke, as if being pulled by a magnet, until they were pressed side-by-side once again. At some point Willie and Flynn arrived, the latter arriving first and forcing Alex and Willie to share the remaining armchair (though they didn’t seem to mind), but Reggie couldn’t have said when, too focused on trying to focus on his AP physics assignment and not the smell of Luke’s hair.

___

Luke was amazed that he’d been able to get any of his physics homework done with his thigh pressed right up against Reggie’s and their shoulders constantly bumping as they both scribbled down answers. He was pretty sure his mind had turned to goo, especially with how Reggie would stop working to peer at Luke’s paper when the boy stalled, unable to come up with the proper equation or solution, and would lean somehow closer to help him work it out. He was starting to wonder if he had died and was now being tortured in hell.

Reggie had just leaned forward again, giving Luke a whiff of his cologne? Body wash? Deodorant? He wasn’t sure what it was but it smelled amazing and he was trying to subtly bask in it while also listening to Reggie explaining something to him when Flynn’s phone rang.

She gasped loudly, slipping into her manager voice when she demanded, “Everyone stop what you’re doing right now.”

Luke froze, pencil slipping out of his hand and clattering onto the floor as Flynn took the call. Everybody in the room seemed afraid to even breathe as Flynn stood from her chair, beginning to pace in front of the band setup. Luke was trying to listen intently, hoping to glean any amount of information about the call from Flynn’s side of the conversation, but at some point Reggie had gripped Luke’s hand in his own and the contact was just about all he could focus on. Reggie was holding his hand.

When Flynn finally ended the call the rest of the group stood up to meet her with baited breath as she walked back towards the furniture. Even when they stood Reggie still kept ahold of Luke, their entwined hands now dangling between them.

“What was that about?” Julie finally broke the silence, giving her best friend a hopeful look.

“That was Andi Parker from Destiny Management and she wants to produce your first album!” Flynn announced and the studio erupted into surprised shouts.

The band of high school seniors had been steadily growing in popularity since it’s conception a few years back and they’d be lying if they hadn’t been hoping for this outcome after their Orpheum showcase.

“But wait, there’s more!” Flynn exclaimed. She paused momentarily, letting them anticipate her next words in silence before yelling, “Julie and the Phantoms are going on tour!”

If their reaction to the record deal was an eruption, this was an explosion of shouts and cheers as they celebrated. Luke was partially aware of Julie and Flynn embracing and Alex literally jumping into Willie’s arms but he wasn’t paying them much attention, his eyes flicking between Reggie and the boy’s hand still firmly intertwined with his. Even in the excitement of the moment neither had even thought about letting go. Luke was suddenly filled with a surge of emotion and before he knew what he was doing he had grasped Reggie’s face in his hands, pressing their lips together firmly.

It took a moment for Reggie’s brain to stop short-circuiting and remember to kiss back but when he did he did it with fervor, hoping to make up for the lost time. He brought his hand (the one that was not still firmly grasped in Luke’s) up to tangle itself in the brunet’s hair just as he had daydreamed about earlier. No. It was better than he had ever daydreamed. Nothing could compare to kissing Luke Patterson.

They only broke away when their friends erupted into cheers and wolf whistles, the two boy immediately reminded of the fact that they weren’t alone.

“Finally!” Flynn called as they pulled apart, faces flushed red. Luke started to pull his hand away but Reggie only gripped it tighter, silently assuring him that it was okay.

“Yeah, uh, I guess it has been a long time coming, huh Reg?” Luke said sheepishly, glancing shyly up at the boy.

Between the kiss, the hand-holding, and the hopeful look in Luke’s eyes, Reggie found himself at a complete loss for words, only able to nod feverishly in response. Thankfully it seemed to be enough for Luke, who grinned before asking,

“Be my boyfriend?”

Though it seemed an impossible feat, Reggie managed to croak out a “Yeah” before they were kissing again, their friends whooping and hollering in the background once more.

An album, a tour, and Luke and Reggie finally getting together. It was shaping up to be a pretty spectacular Monday.

[onyourzeus]

12:15 am | kyh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: 12:15am pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: fluff, small caps words: 2.4k

author’s note: extra fic for tonight, just all around fluffy bf!yonk getting a call from his drunk s/o in the middle of the night. do enjoy.

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

younghyun loves the grind. but if there’s anything else that he looks forward to during a hard and long day of working, it’s the feeling of coming home once he’s done. he makes sure to take off his shoes with as less noise as possible, knowing the fact that his roommates slash bandmates are enjoying their sleeping hours of peace and solitude. 

with just a loose shirt and boxers on, he finally feels less restricted and more comfortable in his own skin. the urge to clean himself of sweat, and polluted air that had clung on him with a nice, hot shower is tempting— but the exhaustion in his heavy shoulders and drooping eyelids convince him otherwise. 

he’ll hate himself for dirtying his sheets, but tomorrow is sunday which means it’s time to do his laundry, anyway. 

tossing his used clothes in the hamper, he prepares his body to get swallowed by the softness of his comforter, and the warm void of his thick blankets. of course, before he passes out entirely tonight, he doesn’t forget to send you a text. the one important thing he shouldn’t miss out on. 

really tired. gonna crash in 2 seconds. text you tmr, love you

usually, younghyun would wait until you respond because the many heart emojis that come his way act as his goodnight kiss while the two of you are apart. besides, you normally reply in an instant which is a habit he’s worried about, really, since you need some rest too. 

he tries to fight the sleepiness away from his senses, but the more he sits on his bed, back hunched and ready to collapse, the less energy he has left to wait for your message. he frowns, suddenly wondering about your whereabouts. you always tell him first hand if you’re too busy to check your phone throughout the day, and younghyun appreciates the thoughtfulness. even if he couldn’t reply “okay” right away, the two of you have a shared sense of understanding as to how your kind of long distance relationship works by now. 

sighing, he eventually puts his phone on the bedside table and plops himself in the covers. it feels really, really good to be in his own personal space now, and younghyun thinks he deserves to rest longer than normal tonight; it was a pretty productive day in the studio. he finished another collab with an artist he’s been meaning to contact for months, and he was glad it came to fruition with great success. he also managed to write a few arrangements for the band’s upcoming album, even if the group decided it was too early to work on it yet. 

younghyun believes it’s never too early as long as inspiration is present. if he didn’t so much as write down possible lyrics or harmonies on a piece of paper every day, he’d slowly feel his motivation being sucked out of him. if he was being honest, that was one of his worst fears as an artist, so every day is work for him, it just depends on how much he wants to get done in a day. 

as his thoughts fizzle out in his mind, his consciousness brings him to dreamland until a constant vibrating noise disrupts him from his end table. younghyun is about to pull the sheets over his head, thinking nothing of the sound but an annoying notification from something unimportant— but then he remembers you. 

with his second guess being right, younghyun has a twinge of guilt in his throat for believing you were not worth it to get up from the coziness of his bed. rubbing his eyes to seem more awake, he picks up the call and greet you in a whisper. 

“hi, baby, what’s up?” younghyun says, voice low and hoarse from multiple recordings in the studio. 

“cheese,” you mumble on the other end, voice rather solid and awake which causes younghyun to perk up a bit. 

“what was that?” 

“cheeeeese, brian,” you slur, elongating the repeated word as well as saying it in a higher pitch. immediately, younghyun senses the somewhat incoherent mumble in your nevertheless pretty voice, and judging from the fact you unironically called him by his english name, there was only one explanation: you’re drunk. 

he finds himself smiling as he answers, “are you home, babe?” he wasn’t angry about you drinking, he does remember you telling him a few days ago that you might go out with friends but you weren’t sure when. maybe tonight was the night and you just forgot to remind him; no big deal. 

“i think so?” you hiccup, followed by a soft chuckle. younghyun’s heart soars at the sound, and it pains him at the same time that he couldn’t be there to hold and take care of you. he leans against the headboard, making himself more comfortable as he listens to you ramble on. 

“all i know is that— burp— it was wendy’s birthday… or was it her cousin? cause she was there too, and i never met her before and— oh my god, i don’t even remember her name i’m such a bad new friend— whatever, anyway, it was someone’s celebration and we bar hopped to a lot of places and it became really sweaty and loud and at one point i had a flamingo shot in my hand and and—”

“hold up, flamingo? you mean flaming?” younghyun interjects, chuckling at your jumbled up story. he imagines you shaking your head as you whine at him for interrupting you. “no, nooooo. it was red and fiery and there was a lot of smoke and i’m sure it represented the beautiful, long-legged bird called flemings.”

this time, younghyun couldn’t stop himself from choking out a laugh, and in turn you huff from the other end, and refuse to continue further. 

“i’m sorry, go on. please, i’m interested with what happened after you took this mysterious shot that starts with an f.”

“are you sure you won’t laugh?” he hears you quip in a tiny, slurring voice, and it his chest tightens at the thought of making you go through this drunken state alone. younghyun cards through his hair in frustration towards himself, realizing how much he misses you in the moment. he doesn’t want you to stop talking, god if he can only see your lips move in person—

“i promise, babe. so, what happened next?”

“if you say so,” you mutter indignantly, but proceed with the story even though you’re unsure of where it’s going. “um, actually. that was it. i think i took everyone’s flamingo shots in their hands and next thing i remember, wendy or her cousin or whoever it was tucked me in bed and now i’m in the kitchen eating cheese.” 

the string of words you had uttered made younghyun feel three emotions in succession: one, impressed that you were able to down more than one shot while he’s not there to monitor you; two, relieved that you confirmed your safety inside your apartment; and three, plain confusion as to why you didn’t stay in bed and instead, eating what you say is cheese while on the call with him. 

“can we turn on the videocall?” he asks gently, and you hesitate.

“i don’t look cute right now…”

“you’re always cute. please?” he tries to sound convincing, knowing that you do get insecure when your face is flushed red from the alcohol. even still, he doesn’t tire from complimenting you otherwise. 

“okay,” you relent, and younghyun’s heart skips a beat anticipating the sight of you on his phone. he turns on his camera, and he’s appalled at what he sees: daar under eyes, no make up on, and a face that describes weariness to a T. in this case, it should be him who feels insecure looking the way he is, but he’d take the risk if it meant seeing your face. 

“hello? is this thing on??” after a few seconds of lag, your screen cleared up and younghyun watches you poke the camera repeatedly. “bri, it’s so dark in here am i even alive right now?”

you never fail to lift his mood up during an exhausting day of activities— as your schedules collide against each other, and there would be less time for moments like right now, younghyun only asks for a few texts sent his way as reassurance that you’re still with him. you always comply, and sometimes younghyun doesn’t get to uphold his side of the commitment during the rare days that he just want to shut off the world.

still, he’ll wake up from a text with your name on it, and the hearts he missed the night before. and he feels whole, and ready to take on the world again.

so this time, younghyun wants to make you feel heard— and seen, as these days work seems to occupy more of his time and burden him with the pressure of exceeding his own expectations. you don’t like seeing him worry about how he’s doing in the industry, so younghyun does his best to appear cheerful and curious in front of you— or his phone, at least.

“yes, you’re very much alive right now, babe. are you really eating cheese at this hour?” he shouldn’t have asked. it was obvious the thing in your hand was, in fact, string cheese being eaten in the most ungodly fashion, but it’s you— and younghyun would rather watch you bite into it, cringing inwardly, instead of passing out with another day longing for your presence. 

“let’s eat cheese together,” you suggest, shoving the half-bitten string cheese into the center of the camera as if it was a mic being handed over to younghyun. “do you want to eat cheese with me, bri?” you ask again, tone small but hopeful. you put your hand down, and younghyun finally has a full view of your face. 

you had taken your makeup off, judging from the bare skin and slightly smeared lipstick on the side of your lips. your hair was splayed out down your shoulders, a combination of curly and straight strands framing your beautiful face. he surmises you used a curling iron this morning, imagining the frustration on your facial features as you try to make it work. 

“briannnn, cheese?” 

younghyun focuses on the present, and he notices the glimmer in your eyes amidst the only light coming on your end was his screen’s brightness. he shakes his head slowly which causes you to pout. 

“no thank you, baby, you can have it all.” 

“but i saved some for you, right here. you get the other half. just like you’re my other half. hehe, get it?” 

“yes, baby, that’s very sweet and clever of you.”

“you should hire me as your lyrics… manager. maker? lyrics person? lyricist!” you grin widely after figuring out the right term, and take another bite off the string cheese. 

“i think you’re doing a great job at being my girlfriend, though,” younghyun tells you, and it takes a few seconds for those words to process until he hears the eventual whine, and covering of your face with your free hand. 

“babe.” no response.

“baaabe.” you mumble something he couldn’t hear. younghyun takes in how adorable you are, and doesn’t pester you for a minute. this bothers you, apparently, as you peek through your fingers and catch him doing one of his silly faces that corners you to laugh abruptly. 

“not fair!! you know that works every time,” you whine in defeat, and younghyun can only smile proudly in response. 

“you know,” you start off, and younghyun prepares himself for another stream of consciousness on your end before you continue, “even if we’re far away from each other, and that we can’t eat cheese together, you’re still the best boyfriend in the entire galaxy.” 

if there’s anything else that younghyun loves apart from the feeling of coming home after work, it’s the feeling of being loved by you. 

he waits for you to finish your string cheese, and you argue that you’d like to eat another one. but it was getting late, and younghyun didn’t want to look even more tired on call, so he urges that you two fall asleep while the call goes on. 

as he wiggles back inside the covers, he watches you struggle to get your whole body in the comfort of your blanket. his hand holds on the phone as he readies himself to sleep sideways. 

“stupid blanket,” you mutter in annoyance, deciding to take one leg out of the warm sheets and at last, feel content on your bed.”that’s better,” you sigh, eyes falling asleep before younghyun. 

“comfortable?”

“not really.”

“oh, why not?” younghyun asks. 

“you’re not here beside me.” and your answer breaks his heart. 

younghyun is pretty good at consoling you with his words at times when you need it, but you beat him to it this time. 

“it’s okay though, younghyun, i can get by like this for now. i know—” you yawn in between, “you’re working super hard for the next comeback— actually, you work no matter what project you’re doing, babe. you’re insane, i hope you know that.”

it was younghyun’s turn to blush, and hide his face in the pillow. the drowsiness is making him soft, and weak from denying the truth in your words. he can definitely agree with a lot of people in his life that he needs to take it slow some days. and when it comes from you, he then knows to take that advice seriously. 

“i do know that, baby.” 

“it’s not bad, though!!” you object, zooming in to your eyes as if to let him know you’re saying it as a good thing. younghyun chuckles again, lifting his face up so he can witness your goofy antics once more. 

“i think it’s… really badass. you go younghyun,” you yawn again, dropping the phone as sleep attempts to befall upon you. “sorry, my hand was getting numb.”

“that’s okay, go to sleep now.” 

“no, you.” 

“that’s literally what we’re trying to do, babe.” 

he hears you snicker, and with that he felt it was okay to lay his phone next to him, too. he probably wouldn’t see your face in the morning on the call anymore as his phone wasn’t fully charged at all. however, as he hears you quietly snoring on the other end gives him a sense of security, and the status of his dead phone battery doesn’t matter so much for now. 

“i love you,” he whispers into the night, eyes closing in, smile taking him to dreams where he can hold you tight.

“love you more, younghyun.”

[highonchocolate]

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 10

First   Previous   Next: Nonexistent   Ao3

Walking down the hallway, Jason felt his suspicion grow as he recalled the conversation he just had with Marinette. She had been fidgeting while answering his questions, repeated ‘homework’ several times, and given him way too much information when he had asked. All trademark signs of a liar. But why would she lie about having homework? As he mulled over the possibilities, he made his way down to the kitchen where Damian and Tim were (unsurprisingly) arguing. Alfred (surprisingly) was absent, probably doing something in another room. 

Jason thanked whatever power was up there for the small mercy. He didn’t think he could deal with the Alfred Disappointed Stare No. 5 (Trademark and Patent pending) today.

“Hey Demon Brat, Timbers, how’d ya like to do some recon on Pixie?” He called out, enjoying how they both immediately stopped arguing to turn and fix him with incredulous (Tim) and disgusted (Damian) looks. “Have you finally lost your mind, Todd?” Damian asked, fixing him with a derisive stare. 

“Yeah, why would we spy on Mari?” Tim agreed, a puzzled frown on his face. 

“Because she lied to me about doing her homework so that she wouldn’t have to play video games with us.” He responded, regretting it immediately. Only after saying it out loud, did he realize exactly how immature and stupid that sounded.

“Aw, is poor little Jason sad because someone didn’t want to hang out with him?” Tim laughed, tilting his head to the side as if talking to a small child. Next to him, Damian snorted into his cereal, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

“I didn’t mean it like that you little shit, it’s just...suspicious.” He finished lamely, trying to justify his reasoning.

“Besides,” he continued, “if you don’t, I’ll tell Alfred about that time you mixed Mountain Dew and two energy drinks into a large coffee with five shots of espresso just so that you could stay awake long enough to spite B.” 

“Drake you imbecile!” Damian shouted, turning to glare at Tim. “How could you be so vulnerable as to allow him to discover your secrets?!” 

Tim just looked at him in horror, eyes wide in shock. “You wouldn’t.” He gasped.

“Try me fucker!” Jason shot back triumphantly, knowing he’d won.

“Fine.” He groaned, dropping his head onto the table with a thunk. 

“As for you, Gremlin, if you don’t help I’ll show everyone the picture of you wearing your Nightwing pajamas and sleeping with that Batman plushie from three years ago.”

Damian turned his glare from Tim to Jason, the heat of a thousand hells burning in his furious gaze. “How dare you bring that up, Todd!” He snarled, seething with rage. “I will break your shins and use them to cut out your lying tongue!”

Jason simply rolled his eyes, too used to the threats to be bothered.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, brat. Can you just hurry the fuck up?” 

Damian’s glare somehow managed to intensify, but he still got up off his stool and stomped reluctantly over to him. Tim took his time finishing the rest of his coffee before flipping him off out of spite, and then walking over to them as well.

“Alright, so how are we doing this?” He questioned, looking expectantly at Jason.

“I don’t know, Timbers, you’re the genius. You tell us what you think you should do.” He drawled.

Tim glared at him, but refused to respond, brain already whirring as it came up with solutions. “Well vents are definitely out of the question, but I think there might be some secret passages in the manor we can use. We’ll have to look at the blueprints.” He sighed. “Remind me why I'm doing this again?”

“Because, Drake, he has blackmail.” Damian scoffed, still scowling at Jason.

“Yeah well in case you haven’t noticed, I have dirt on you too, kid.” Jason responded, rolling his eyes. 

“And anyway, Drake.” Damian continued, steadfastly ignoring his words. “Your idea is unreasonably complicated. We are dealing with a civilian, and she is incapacitated, so there is no need for you to devise such an intricate plan.” 

“Damn, Demon, you’re making it sound like we’re planning on murdering her after we already tortured her and cut off a limb or some shit. She just has an ankle boot, calm the fuck down.”

“Damian, you do have a point. Her room has a balcony, so if one of us can distract her long enough the other can climb up there and plant a bug in her room. But we’ll have to take it out after we make sure she’s not doing anything suspicious. We can’t just invade her privacy like that.” Tim conceded, contemplating the merit of the younger’s suggestion.

“You say that like we haven’t already hacked her fucking phone and listened to her calls.” Jason snarked back. “But yeah, we should take it back after we check.”

“Alright let us begin, you fools. I have no desire to be under your power any longer than I have to, Todd.”

Tim went to his room to grab one of the listening devices he had stashed there, while Damian and Jason fought over who was going to be the bait. 

“I can’t do it, I already fucking talked to her today, so it’d be suspicious!”

“Well me and Dupain-Cheng are merely acquaintances at best, and besides, I clearly have the more superior skill when it comes to stealth.”

“You little shit! I can totally be stealthy!” 

“The volume at which you are shouting begs to differ.”

“Oh shut the fuck u-”

“Enough!” Tim shouted, having heard their raised voices even before he had rounded the corner. “I’ll be the distraction, Damian’s the ninja, Jason you just listen to the feed since you’re so suspicious of Marinette.” 

“Fine.” Jason grumbled.

“That is an adequate arrangement, Drake.” Damian aquesied, looking as though it physically pained him to make such a statement.

“Whatever.” Tim rolled his eyes, already heading up to Marinette’s room. Damian slipped off in another direction, presumably to make the two-story climb to her balcony, and Jason sat down and opened up the laptop to connect to the live feed from Tim’s listening device. 

---

Tim knocked on Marinette’s door and waited. He heard what sounded like a crash, a thud, and a muffled curse. “You can come in!” She called out, sounded flustered and out of breath.

He opened the door cautiously and stepped in. Her desk chair was lying on the floor and some notebooks were spread out on the ground nearby. It looked as though she had fallen out of her chair when she heard his knock. But why would she be so startled? 

She was looking at him expectantly, and he remembered he was supposed to be distracting her. 

“Oh hey Marinette, I remember you saying last month that you liked to design,” he began, flashing her a faux-hesitant smile. 

“Um yeah, I do like designing. Why?” She questioned, looking at him strangely.

Time to tone up the acting.

“Well, I know it’s already the beginning of October, but I was wondering if you could help me make a couples Halloween costume?” He asked, giving her a sheepish look, and infusing the barest undertone of hope into his voice.

At the mention of costumes, she immediately perked up, looking a bit more invested in what he was saying. 

“Sure! Who’s it for, though?” 

Tim facepalmed mentally, forgetting that she had only been with them for two months, and hadn’t met Kon yet. 

“Oh, it’s for me and my boyfriend, Conner.” He laughed, “I guess it never really came up, but yeah, I’m bisexual and cassgender.”

Marinette smiled blindingly up at him. “So what did you have in mind for your costume?” 

At that, Tim stalled. It wouldn’t exactly hurt to have matching costumes for Halloween, would it? He did have a few ideas, but he didn’t know if Kon would like them. 

He must’ve voiced his thoughts out loud, because Marinette just grinned and said “How about you talk to your boyfriend and see what he has to say about matching costumes, and then I can design something for you?”

Internally, Tim began panicking. Why was he becoming so invested in this bullshit excuse? It’s not like he was actually going to dress up for Halloween. His plans were to eat chocolate covered espresso beans, watch shitty movies with Kon, and then go on patrol until 3 AM and write reports until he passed out from eventual sleep deprivation. Fuck Jason and his stupid suspicions. Now I have to actually put effort into my appearance. Isn’t putting on a suit for meetings at WE enough in the dress up department? Ugh.

But all he said was a quick “Sure! I’ll ask him what he thinks, and let you know.” Before turning and walking back down the hallway. I hope Damian had enough time to put the bug in there. He thought as he plopped down next to Jason on the couch. 

Less than a minute later, Damian was there, a triumphant smirk on his face as he settled in next to them to listen. There was a quiet crackle of static as the mic synched up, and then they were able to hear everything that was going on.

---

After Tim left, Marinette closed the door with a sigh. “Why me?” She sighed, looking over at her fallen desk chair and the scattered notes spread out across her floor. With a grunt, she picked it up and pushed it back over to her desk before bending down and collecting the scattered papers. Walk/hobbling back to her seat, she collapsed into her chair with a groan before turning back to the evil worksheet sitting innocently on her desk. “Fuck math. Who in the world decided we needed to study freaking triangles to pass highschool?!” 

With another sigh, she picked up her pencil and went back to working. 

Not even five minutes later, she slammed her palm down on the table and stood up, cursing creatively in Mandarin. 

“Stupid fucking bitch ass piece of shit! Does it look like I care if sine squared plus cosine squared equals one?! Does it look like I need to leard this stupid shit to become a fashion designer?! Newsflash I don’t, so why the hell do I have to study this absolutely confusing stuff!”

She shouted, glaring furiously at the question she had just come across. “I really, really, really hate math sometimes.” She said, switching back to English. 

Pulling out her phone, she clicked on something before raising it to her ear with an exhausted sob/groan. 

“Hey Buginette, how’s Gotham?” The familiar voice of her best friend/brother greeted her.

“Adrieeeen.” She whined in French. “Help meeeee.”

“Is it Math again?” He laughed, sensing her problem.

“Stop laughing!” She pouted. “It's really hard and I can’t call Max because Max hates me, actually everyone hates me, and now I want to cry, but I don’t have time to cry properly, so can you please just help?” Her eyes began to burn, and she swallowed around the tightness in her chest. “Ignore that. Just...remind me how to do this again?”

“We are coming back to this,” Adrien informed her sternly, “But I’ll let it go for now. So what you want to do is…”

---

Tim shut the laptop lid and glared at Jason reproachfully. “You happy now, Jay? She wasn’t being suspicious, she was actually doing her homework. And now we heard her have a small breakdown over math, and then another one over how her friends hate her. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take that bug back, and go do my work.” And with that he stalked off.

“Tt. Your concerns were unfounded, Todd.” Damian scowled, also getting up. “I am going to feed BatCow.”

Before Jason could reply, he had left, disappearing to go play with his pets. 

Slumping back on the couch cushions, Jason let out an aggravated sigh and ran a rough hand through his hair. There was something strange about Marinette, and whatever it was, he was going to figure it out.

---

@laurcad123, @liquid-luck-00, @toodaloo-kangaroo

[jungcity]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥.

genre: romance, fantasy, erotica

au: fallen angel, reincarnation

pairing: jung jaehyun x female reader

note: This is a work of fiction. The portrayal of the celebrities included in this story does not reflect their true nature in real life. I am just using them as a way to bring life into the story and to give entertainment to readers. Concerning the plot which is about Lucifer, I do not— in any means— sympathize with the devil and I do not intend to offend any religion. Furthermore, I discourage you to continue reading if you feel uncomfortable with this type of stories. I’d appreciate it if you'll leave some feedbacks! Thank you so much!

“he was the worse of his kind—

dared the Almighty with

pride in his mind.

banished from heaven,

the infamous fallen.

the one you cannot tame;

lucifer, that is his name.”

Unable to process the words printed out in the sheet of paper that was in your hands, you stare dat your termination contract with dread slowly creeping up into your face. Maybe you want to scream or to cry– heck, you have no idea what to feel as yet another hindrance towards a stable life lay heavy in your palms. An exhausted exhale of breath escaped your lips as the realization hit you– you were indeed terminated by the management of the fast-food chain you were working on for the reason that they could not meet their quota anymore and they had to terminate some employees. Unfortunately, you are one of those workers.

You have witnessed as the same dread fell upon your co-workers while they skimmed the paper in their hands. The fast-food chain stood as your only means to support yourself and your sister, so you never once took it for granted and did your work diligently despite the low wages and the awful workplace it had offered. Now, you have to find another job or else you will surely die of hunger.

You do have a talent in arts, and you graduated with a fine arts degree. But life after college was beyond what you had expected when you were still studying. You had anticipated to have a stable job suited for your skills, but life did not go as you planned. Your mother fell sick and died a year after you graduated, leaving you and your sister all alone. From that day onwards, you became the modern Atlas who carried the world in your shoulders. Yet you couldn’t complain. And despite all of the hardships, you only felt the need to take care of your little sister even more.

You continued walking the side streets like a ragged doll being pulled sluggishly by whatever force there was, thinking of other ways to get by tomorrow. Being jobless wouldn’t be so hard if you didn’t have another mouth to feed. Your sister will be a freshman in college next year, and that’s the sole reason why you needed to work your butt off harder than before. And life isn’t really helping right now. So you grabbed your phone and rang your best friend’s number. She picked up after fifteen seconds.

“Hey, gorge—”

“I am jobless,” you greeted Soojin. There was a surprised ‘oh’ in the other line and you could imagine your best friend looking at you pitifully. It made you bite your lower lip to fight the urge to cry in front of the judging eyes of the city.

“Tell me, is there something I can do to help?”

“I don’t know what to do anymore. I am deep in fucking debt and Yuqi’s going to college soon. I couldn’t possibly pay for our rent with my current situation— oh. I am a mess!” You heaved a deep sigh, your chest constricting from all the emotions you were keeping locked up inside you. Different set of eyes were on you as you tried not to crumple in the side streets. There were adults giving you sympathetic looks and children almost laughing at you.

“Hey! Hey, Y/N! Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale!” You did as you were told. Gulping a large amount of air, you didn’t even bother how polluted it was now that you were in the heart of the town. You have to get a new job before you lose your mind.

“Okay, is everything calmer now?” Soojin asked.

“Yes. Yes,” you replied, still taking deep breaths.

“I could recommend a job, Y/N.”

Your ears perked up. “I’m listening.”

“But it wouldn’t be an easy one,” she sighed on the other line before continuing, “The job is right here in Jung’s Fiscals. Luckily for you, the former secretary of Mr. Jung decided to resign today; rumor has it that it’s because of the cold and ruthless demeanor of our CEO. I know you’re fit for the job because you’re one hell of a hard working bitch. However, I want you to give it a thought. Mr. Jung is not someone to mess with. Heck, he does not even—”

You replied before she even had the chance to finish her sentence, “I’ll take it. I’m really not in the position to say no to a job right now, am I? I badly need one so whatever the character of this Mr. Jung, I’d cooperate with him.”

You heard your best friend sigh in defeat. She knows you too well to try to stop you. So she simply directed you to prepare your resumé and other documents for the interview tomorrow.

“God! Thank you!” You kissed the mic of your phone as thanks to your best friend-slash-life savior.

You were too desperate to even think about her advice and the possibility of the CEO mistreating you. As long as there is money in your card to support your sister and food on your table, you are always ready to serve anyone— even if that person was forged straight from the womb of the devil.

All energetic and ready to take the challenge of the world again, you blew your friend one last kiss before ending the call and trudging towards the bus stop.

It was a night of simple ready-to-eat-ramen pack. Your sister had already known about your termination and currently feels bad that there is nothing she could do to help.

“It’s okay. Worry about school and nothing else, Yuqi,” you told her. The younger girl pouted her lips, reluctance clear on her face. “And I could not possibly let you work. We know enough not to overwork you.”

She has a weak stamina. Asthmatic since she was a kid, you never allowed her to do any part-time jobs for the fear that it would take a toll on her health. You couldn’t afford to lose the only relative you have, so every attempt of hers to help you boils down to nothing.

“I mean, who am I in this household? I don’t want to be a leech, sucking all your money and energy like that.” She scrunched up her nose.

“Yuqi, it’s my responsibility to take care of you. This is nothing, really.”

Even though you had almost lost your mind earlier thinking about the fact that you were indeed jobless, you tried to show your strong façade and smiled encouragingly to your sister. The least that you want right now is to worry her.

“Not to mention that you have to work in that wretched company– where the CEO is Jung Jaehyun. I’ve heard a lot of rumors about him, you know. They say he fucks—”

“Language, please,” you warned with a glare.

Yuqi rolled her eyes before continuing, “They say, he brings famous models into his penthouse every single night. And some say he does it even in his own office.” She talked while pointing her chopstick at you, munching her food deliciously like it was the best ramen she has ever tasted.

“Well, let’s be glad I am not a model then.” You shrugged. The both of you laughed.

She rambled about Jung Jaehyun the whole dinner with you, half-listening to her. Yuqi almost sounded like she was a fan and you seriously couldn’t grasp the need to be cautious towards Jung Jaehyun. You were hell-bent to impress him tomorrow that you refused to indulge yourself around the bad rumors circulating his name and well-being. All that matters to you is you are going to get that job, and you will do your best to stay in that office long enough to support your sister’s education.

This is the day where your fate is divided into two. You have a chance to make everything better for you and your sister, or you can prove that your life has been cursed and there is no more hope to rescue it from the depths of poverty.

The fate is in your hands and right now, your palms are sweating and your hands are trembling. Shaking your head and clearing your mind— with a determined heart— you trudge inside the thirty-story building of Jung’s Fiscals.

You were greeted by your best friend, Soojin. She was wearing a slightly loose pencil skirt paired with simple white polo sleeves. Her hair was styled into a neat bun, just like any other girl at the front desk. You have presumed that that would also be your hairstyle once you got the job.

“You got this,” Soojin mumbled as she led you towards the elevator. Unfortunately for you, she couldn’t accompany you all the way to Mr. Jung’s office for the reason that the building is buzzing with work and she couldn’t leave her position at the front desk for too long. You wave her a nervous goodbye before pushing the button on to the 28th floor.

There was really something about CEOs preferring to locate their offices on the top floor of their building. It was not like you mind, but you truly couldn’t believe that it really happens in real life. You once thought that they only appear in televisions.

Surrounded by the shiny metal covers of the elevator’s interior, you decided to check on your clothes and overall appearance. You have picked your best set of formal clothes for this day because you obviously wanted to impress the CEO and look presentable on your possible first day of work.

After a few minutes of standing alone inside the shiny elevator, it finally dinged and opened. You step outside, eyes roaming around the surroundings before taking a step forward. A nice and wide room greeted you as you walked through. The secretary’s table was made of polished wood, with the company’s logo engraved in gold. There were sets of black marble columns at the back and two comfortable armchairs in front of the secretary’s table to serve as a waiting area.

A woman, with the same bun as Soojin, stood up from her seat to greet you. Unlike your best friend, she was wearing a brown blazer that slightly hugged her waist and a fitted black dress underneath it. In your own opinion, she was too young to resign in this prestigious company. Which made your mind fall back into thinking that maybe the rumors were true– that the CEO, indeed, mistreats his employees.

“Good morning, Miss. Mr. Jung is ready to meet you.” She greeted with a slight bow. Her whole aura screamed professionalism. Something that you were not acquainted with— being a former waitress at a fast-food chain. All you had to do was take orders and smile and obey inquiries but you had never, ever, worked in a place where those aforementioned skills were almost nothing compared to the huge building that you were— hopefully— going to work in. Although, you suppose you have a bit of advantage when it comes to noting something and smiling. The only difference is that, rather than French fries and diet coke, you would have to take notes about meetings and business trips.

You breathed slowly, calming your nerves. The woman must have heard your heart thumping against your chest since she hesitated to open the door.

“Just be yourself, Miss. Do not worry too much. You’ll get through this.” She offered you a kind smile. You couldn’t help but think that she was accompanying you towards your own doom. You returned the smile even as you felt your lips wobble. A few inhales and exhales later, you told her you were ready. She slowly opened the door to Mr. Jung’s office and Jesus Christ— you thought you would collapse by the expansive space that greeted you in.

Typical CEO, he was obviously sitting on his swivel chair, the back of it facing you and the secretary. You have guessed he was looking at the spectacular view outside. The interior of his office wasn’t quite different from the secretary’s. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked the skyscrapers and buzzing life outside. Light brown wood with grey walls surrounded you, partnered with black leather furniture. Hints of gold in the CEO’s table were also visible and there were minimalistic abstract paintings with the same hue as everything in the room.

Jung Jaehyun. CEO. — was printed on the glass plaque on top of his table.

“Leave us.” He said without turning his chair. The voice was deep and raspy— clean and masculine— the kind of voice from someone who knows he was in authority and that he owns the whole place.

Shivering, you almost begged the woman not to leave you with the predator sitting not two meters away from you. The secretary gave you an encouraging nod before turning on her heels and walking away. At the sound of the door clicking close, the swivel chair whirled.

You expected to see a grey-haired, middle-aged man to greet you. As a large company like this one, the CEO wouldn’t be as young as the man in front of you now. You tried to focus your breathing because fuck— the man is beyond gorgeous. It has been a while since you had encountered a creature as beautiful as him.

Hair, raven black against the white swivel chair that stood out in the whole room like a throne only for his to take, his lips were too red as a freshly plucked cherry against his pale skin— so white you could almost see the blues and the violets of his veins. And those eyes— the perfect dark brown; screams calmness after the storm and the rage of the hurricane fused together.

“Are you quite done staring?”

His voice shot you back to reality. You prayed to the saints that you hadn’t been drooling as you took in his whole features. If that was the case?You were absolutely doomed. Your chances of ever being hired beginning to thin.

“I… my apologies, Sir.” You bowed your head, suddenly confused as to why your body reacted that way. This is not a medieval fantasy where you were inclined to bow before the king, but the man in front of you exudes the energy of the likeliness of a monarch and it felt right to bow in front of him.

He didn’t answer. You could only assume that he was looking through your documents by the sound of the papers shuffling.

“Fine arts degree? To a waitress?” His words ended with a ‘hm?’. He almost sounded disgusted by your resume. It made the veins on your temple ticked but you really couldn’t blame him. The job that you landed on after graduating wasn’t really what you expected after those too many sleepless nights struggling to finish all your plates.

“And with this basic resume…” Your head automatically recovered from the bow and your eyes stared at him. He didn’t call your resume basic, right? But he did. It was crystal clear in your ears, ringing in your mind. And all your hopes of getting the job were gone in an instant. “… why should I hire you?” he finished.

His eyes were emotionless but his voice was taunting. Despite the insult of calling your resume basic, you smiled at him. It was your time to prove yourself and there was no stopping you now.

You cleared your throat, “Because I am a hard-working woman ready to give you her utmost effort—”

“You’re hired.” He simply declared with a wave of his hand.

You blinked, doubtful of the words that you have heard. “Sir?”

“You’re hired. Go and talk to Maggie about everything that you need to know,” he coldly stated, not looking at you but into his computer.

You could really jump from happiness, right in front of him. And you didn’t even care that he interrupted the speech which you practiced all night with the hopes to impress him. What truly matters is you got a new job not twenty-four-hours after you were terminated from that wretched fast-food chain. However, you wouldn’t provoke him to fire you on your first day so you remained calm.

“Thank you, Sir!”

Clasping your hands together was the only vessel you have to let go of a fraction of the happiness that you have felt. You turned on your heels with a smile that could reach your ears. But before you could open the door, he spoke again.

“Try harder when it comes to your clothes, next time. They don’t match mine.”

It was the best pair of formal clothes in your wardrobe. You inhaled sharply and faced him with the same smile, already not so fond of your newly-acclaimed boss.

“Alright, Sir. I understand.”

Then you dashed outside, instantly regretting being his secretary even before your job to serve him had begun.

The secretary, Maggie, introduced you your new workplace. She must’ve seen how happy you were when you departed Mr. Jung’s office that she automatically guided you towards the secretary’s table with a smile.

Her corner was neat, the folders clearly stacked on one end and notebooks at the side. The computer was placed on the right corner alongside the telephone. It was easy to move around since everything is in its place.

Then she guided you towards the pantry. It was decorated with the same brown, grey, black hues with a hint of gold accents. Adjacent to it is the meeting area, composed of the same black leather furniture and a glass table partnered with a minimalistic chandelier. Everything around you looks so expensive that you felt out of place all of a sudden.

“Mr. Jung wants his coffee a little bit warm in the morning. There’s a coffee maker ready, you just have to watch a few coffee making videos and you’re gonna be alright.” You shared a chuckle. It would seem as if Jung Jaehyun is meticulous when it comes to his coffee. So you mentally reminded yourself to watch some coffee making videos tonight.

“Sometimes he likes it cold. Plus, he usually drinks iced-americano. Easy to make,” she said with a wink.

Is working for Jung Jaehyun also requires you to be a barista? Cool.

“For his breakfast, you have to ask him every morning if he’d like to eat. More of the times he does not. And I think one of his personal pet peeves is when someone wastes food. So be careful about that.”

You listed everything she has told you, emphasizing the words ‘ask him’ to remind yourself not to impulsively make him food for there was no guarantee that he was going to eat.

“On the days that he wants to have breakfast, he usually likes to eat scrambled eggs with slices of bacon and don’t forget about the apples. He loves apples,” she exaggerated, “You just have to cut them in equal pieces or else he won’t eat them.”

Bringing a ruler with you won’t do any harm, right? So you listed it together with the reminders that Maggie informed you of. She continued walking you through the works that she does: from the emails that you need to go through to make sure no insignificant message would irate Mr. Jung, to her techniques in taking notes and arranging schedules for the boss.

“And there’s a proper uniform made for you,” she said while eyeing you from head to toe. But not in an insulting manner like what Jung Jaehyun did. Her scrutinizing was more on the calculating side. It would appear as though she was mentally analyzing your body size.

“On Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays– you will have to wear this same outfit as I am wearing.” By that, she means the dress and the brown blazer.

“Tuesdays, and Thursdays, you have to wear slacks the same color as this blazer. It’s paired with white silky polo sleeves. Nothing uncomfortable, don’t worry,” she chuckles. But your tongue wanted to ask whether you were going to buy your own set of clothes. The uniform looked so neat and expensive that by the lookds of it, surely you do not have the luxury to buy one. As if reading through your knitted brows, Maggie told you that all uniforms are provided by the company. Thank God.

“On Saturdays, you can wear anything you like. Just be mindful of it. Mr. Jung does not like it when his secretary—”

“Wears cheap clothing? And does not match with his?” You finished the sentence for her. It was the sentiment of the CEO before you exited his office.

Maggie’s lips was formed in a thin line, telling you to go along with it. “It’s not exactly like that. But you have to at least try to catch up to his fashion sense.”

Well— Jesus Christ— the man exhales the air of Balmain and Versace and you do not have the richest to afford a Chanel outfit to pair with him even if you sell your soul to the devil.

“Is that… really necessary?” You asked her, clearly agitated. If that was what the CEO wants, you would gladly go back and work in that cursed fast-food chain and wear the same uniform six days a week than thinking about robbing a famous clothing brands’ store every fucking day to match his highness’ clothes.

“Yes. But don’t worry. The clothes I wear every Saturdays were all thrifted. You just have to really dig every clothes to find a decent one.” She winked at you. You smiled at her nervously. You wouldn’t trust yourself thrifting clothes, simply because you do not have the patience for it. But your little sister, Yuqi, does. So you would have to trust her taste and maybe she wouldn’t feel so helpless anymore once you give her the task.

“That’s pretty much all you have to know,” Maggie declares while clasping her hands together. You suddenly felt the need to ask her the reason why she was resigning. But it seemed too personal to inquire. You shrugged and let the question die in your mind.

“How long have you been working here?” You asked instead. She smiled at you, looking around the place like she was reliving some kind of memories.

“I interned in this place when I was still in college. Mr. Jung applauded my performance so I decided to work here when I graduated. It’s been three years, to be exact.”

Jung Jaehyun must’ve been owning this empire at such a young age, based on Maggie’s story. He was the CEO when she was still in college until now. You wonder how old he was when he took this company.

“Mr. Jung’s must’ve been really young when he took over this company,” you voiced. Maggie nodded and told you she was impressed by how young yet clever Jung Jaehyun is to be managing a top company such as Jung’s Fiscals.

After a few minutes of small talk and reminders, Maggie bid you goodbye. Her things were all gathered and she was ready to go even before she walked you through the rules and reminders of the company. However, before she left, you asked the one question that you have been itching to know the answer to the very moment you walked out of Mr. Jung’s office.

“Is he… is he really terrible? Like in the rumors?” You know it was not pleasant to ask such things regarding your boss. But you need at least some warnings before you dive in headfirst to the trouble.

Maggie chuckled and you didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. “He doesn’t mistreat his employees. It’s more like, he doesn’t really care enough. I don’t know. He’s excellent in his field but he’s aloof towards everyone. Never really socializing and talking outside of business.” Maggie smiled and you hate to be the one to noticed it, but it seems like she adores Mr. Jung. With the possibility of romantic feelings bubbling beneath her weak facade.

Before you knew it, your tongue is rolling and asking the question you whispered only to yourself. “Do you like him?”

At your question, all the professionalism deteriorated from Maggie’s presence. She looked like a giddy thirteen-year-old lovesick teenager when she answered, “Who wouldn’t like him? The man is like, rich-rich. And that aura? That body? I’d let him spit on me.”

You were slightly disgusted by the latter but you were not going to argue that Jung Jaehyun is indeed the kind of man who could easily wreck you. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. He has that power in him and you know it the second you laid your eyes on that beautifully cruel face. Those eyes— oh boy— eyes that could make you feel alive but drown and capture you within the depths of them— yet his looks; looks that could almost kill. Men like him know their place, and that is above everyone else— including you.

Your first week went smoothly. There were new emails sent to Jung Jaehyun’s inbox that you need to check. There was also a telephone call, once, from a girl named Chaelin who wishes to visit Jaehyun once his schedule wasn’t too jampacked to bother. You silently asked your boss whether he would allow it, checking his schedules first before asking. He told you to insert Chaelin’s visit on one of his them. That made you wonder if she was one of those rumored models caught leaving Jaehyun’s penthouse and office. But you shook your mind off the thought. Clearly, you have no business wondering about those kinds of things. He is your boss and you are his secretary. You would never meddle in his personal life.

Maggie was right, Jung Jaehyun was indeed aloof. He eats alone and employees never really stay in his office longer than ten minutes. Maximum. And they would always come out with their hand on their chest, heaving a deep sigh. He didn’t welcome small talk and he was all about business. Slowly, you have grounded and reminded yourself exactly where your place was inside the office; and that is inside his territory, but out of his life.

It was easy to master the perfect taste of his coffee. And yes, you would admit, you almost collapsed on your knees when he first tasted your office-made americano. You even stayed for two minutes after he took a sip, hoping for some good comments but he just raised a brow at you. That was your cue to exit. Just like what Maggie reminded you, Jung Jaehyun does not eat breakfast often as a normal person would. But today, he finally ordered one.

Chaelin, who called you, finally arrived fifteen-minutes ago. If Jaehyun looked like a king, Chaelin was his queen — or so you assume. She carried the dominant female aura in her; ash grey hair, red lips, and red bottoms, with a 90’s silk dress hugging her body paired with a Chanel purse. Everything about her screams perfection. You were glad that she smiled softly towards you after you guided her towards Mr. Jung’s office; making you more comfortable in her presence instantly. Maybe that was why you were preparing breakfast for the duo.

The whole office is lonesome. The surrounding eerily silent with literally only the three of you on the whole floor. All you could hear was the crisp sound of the slices of bacon as you fry them, and the thud of the knife against the chopping board as you prepare his apples— fresh and pristine on the plate.

Everything was ready in twenty-five minutes. You placed the food on a clean tray before walking towards Mr. Jung’s office. Balancing all of it with your hip, you pushed the door slightly. The main office stood empty before you, but you heard their murmurs silently echoing from the meeting area that was adjacent to Mr. Jung’s office.

Reluctant to barge in without asking for their permission, your steps slowed. But Mr. Jung ordered for a breakfast today, he must have been hungry. You did not want to make him wait, or his visitor— so you inhaled and exhaled, continuing your walk towards the meeting area.

“So basically, this visit is to tell me to clean up your own mess?”

You heard Mr. Jung asked, contempt clear in his voice. It definitely felt like the conversation is not for anyone to hear. You hesitated in your position.

“This is not my mess. It’s theirs. How many times—” Chaelin was obviously frustrated by the tone of her voice. You heard a playful chuckle from your boss, interrupting the lady’s discourse.

“And how many times do I have to tell you that I. Do. Not. Give. A. Flying. Fuck.”

“Come on! You’re the only creature here on Earth who could do what needs to be done.” Chaelin sounded tired, worn out from the male’s large ego.

You were about to turn on your heel and walk away, the conversation clearly was between both of them alone, and you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were just torn between serving their food or walking away. You started doing the latter until Mr. Jung’s voice boomed in the whole office that you literally felt the plates in the tray shook.

“Who’s there?!”

You froze on your spot— and your breathing too. It wasn’t just a question. It was a scream of command to reveal yourself. You didn’t even know how he had known someone staying outside the meeting area. Before you could run away from the scene, you heard footsteps coming your way. You turned around to face your boss, you regretted doing so. He was looking at you with his emotionless eyes. And you felt a trickle ran down your spine as he continued walking towards you— grabbing your arms like he wanted to crush your bones. You were too shocked to even feel the pain but it was there, slowly slicing through your skin, certain it was going to leave a bruise.

“What did you hear?” He asked, rage evident in his voice. Chaelin was looking at the both of you, not enjoying the scene but also anticipating for your answer.

You squeezed your eyes shut because you couldn’t stand looking at his eyes as they seemed to burn you to ashes. “N-nothing, Sir.” You trembled.

He pinned you down with that same, deadly stare. His body only a tray away from yours, you could smell his spicy perfume mixing with the smell of portions of bacon and eggs. And his face, too close, so close he almost seemed familiar. He stared at you, not saying anything with his mouth but shooting you death threats with his eyes. You couldn’t stand it. Your knees began to wobble but before you could lose your balance, Chaelin decided to intrude.

“Jaehyun, let go of the girl. She’s telling the truth.”

His hand automatically slid away from your arms. He drew a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his raven-black hair. You let out a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived as he spoke with his toneless voice again.

“Get the fuck out of this room. Now.” His back facing you while he gripped the edge of the table.

You gathered all your strength, placing the tray on the small table two steps away from you. You were dumbfounded and beyond scared, you didn’t even bother to arrange their plates, you dashed towards the door like a contender in a marathon.

The moment the oak door closed behind you only did you allow yourself to breathe. It came out shaky. But surprisingly, there were no tears rolling down your cheeks. You simply clutched your chest; the pain in your arm numb because of your fear.

It was only your first week. Yet all you wanted to do was resign and get the hell out of the building.

With a glass of liquor in one hand, Jaehyun stared at the vast expanse of the city lights below from his penthouse; thinking that every twinkling light is his to conquer. He was always been fond of high grounds; it reminded him of his place before he was cast out of heaven and became the most infamous fallen in the history of mankind.

The fall. History had withered and repeated itself for millions of years. Yet he still could not forget how it felt like to fall into nothingness, with the gates of heaven closing in before his very eyes.

Did it hurt? The poets tried to ask the unknown; they bled ink trying to fathom the feelings of Lucifer when the Almighty and every angel declared him a traitor. Yet no poem had the exact metaphors to decipher his doom.

Did it hurt? Jaehyun sometimes asks himself the same question. Did it hurt when his wings started to smolder with fire as he plunged into the abyss of nothingness and into the Earth? Did it hurt when every bone in his body twisted and shattered as he landed into hard ground of a place too grave to be called heaven? Did it hurt when he was all bruises and blood and ill-fated to burn into the pits of hell? Just like the poets, Jaehyun has not found the metaphor to describe the feeling; but unlike them, he knew too well how it felt like.

He had lost count of the millennia that had past. He had lost count of his own age if he ever had one. The world made its inevitable change. And it continues to change, leaving him behind. Because he was still him; all wings and sins. Forever damned, forever unforgiven.

He was there when religion had been born, and he watched as the pious made different names to describe him; Prince of hell, the devil, Satan, the Fallen Angel. He watched them cursed him and condemned those who believed in him. And back then he realized that people were quick to describe and hate something they do not understand.

Kings and queens died. Kingdoms rose and fell, and he watched them all with obloquy in his face. Because he couldn’t believe that despite the spitefulness of humans against each other, the Almighty still loved them above all else.

They say he was destined to burn in hell, but his true punishment lay more grievous than being scorched alive. He pulled a locket out of his pocket with his too pale hands. Opening the little old golden thing, it didn’t fail to make his breath run wild every time he looked at the picture inside. The girl is smiling, the one thing she does not practice usually.

How many years has it been? He forgot the faces of his friends and of his enemies. Yet the one thing he could not forget is her ocean eyes and how her lips tasted salvation in his.

One hundred years, my love, he whispered.

One hundred years of her gone, and one hundred years of him keeping her closest to his aching heart despite the death that separates them both. And he would do everything to live; to keep her as his secret, to keep her alive in him.

That was when his thoughts weaved its way to you. A girl who has the ability to ruin everything he holds dear in his damned eternity. You might’ve heard things earlier; he wasn’t sure. The way your eyes looked at him frantically and how your body almost convulsed in his touch, he couldn’t explain why but he never wants to see that same reaction painted on your face again.

Drinking the last contents of his glass and with a touch of warning in his voice, he whispered your name against the miles that are separating you both. With the hopes that it would caress and remind you of the storm coming.

A mere mortal like you is nothing compared to his ancient greatness. Yet the thought of a human knowing his secret nagged in his system even if he didn’t want to. He couldn’t let you out his sight. Not tomorrow, not ever.

masterlist.

[notalwaysthevillian]

Parent Trapped

Warnings: Kissing, medication mention

Pairings: Romantic Remile, platonic LAMP

Word Count: ~1.7k

Masterlist

Chapter 14: What Do We Do First?

The Picani twins took to calling Remy ‘Dad’ almost immediately. Seeing how happy it made their own father, the Sanders boys did the same to Emile.

The first time Logan said it to Emile, he almost cried. Tears welled up in his eyes and he’d gently hugged Logan, making sure it was alright first. Logan hugged him back tightly and let out a soft sigh before heading up to his room.

Over the course of the rest of the boys’ sophomore year, Remy was working up the courage to have a very particular conversation with Emile. Every time he thought he was ready, he chickened out, opting for anything else.

Emile wasn’t stupid, and he could tell Remy had something he wanted to talk about. But the beginning of the year was a busy time for him. There were many people who decided that their resolution would be to finally go to therapy, and Emile was picking up clients left and right.

By the time everything evened out, and those who decided therapy wasn’t for them had dropped it, April had rolled around. The first time Emile truly had a break was the weekend of Roman’s musical.

“I’m headed to the school! See you after!” Roman was shouting into the house as Emile came home.

Emile ducked around him, giving him a high five. “Break a leg.”

“Thank you!”

Roman zipped off, hopping in with Tanya Task, who was waiting at the end of the driveway. The two of them headed off to the school.

Logan cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “We’re going to go hang out in my room until it’s time for dinner. Unless you want help?”

“No,” Remy cut in, realizing what Logan was trying to do for him. “We’ve got it. You probably don’t want to see us sneaking kisses anyway.”

“Is it sneaking if we know you’re doing it?”

Patton giggled at Virgil’s question before heading upstairs behind his brother.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as Emile and Remy expertly moved around each other as they made dinner. The routine was comfortable, the two of them “sneaking” kisses as they went along.

Once the sauce was simmering with the pasta noodles, Emile slipped onto one of their stools. “What’s been on your mind recently?”

“Should’ve known you noticed,” Remy said, before biting his lip. “There’s a conversation we need to have. But I don’t think we should have it while our kids are spying on us.”

A loud gasp came from the staircase, followed by scrambling footsteps as the boys darted upstairs.

Emile stood, taking Remy’s hands in his. “I’m hoping it’s a good thing we need to talk about, but whatever it is, we can have a mature conversation.”

“Oh, god, of course it’s a good thing, Em!” Linking their fingers together, Remy pressed a kiss to Emile’s forehead. “It’s about moving forward, not back. I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

Remy wrapped his pinky around Emile’s, looking at him with all the love in his heart. “Pinky promise.”

“Apologies for ruining the moment, but I’d rather not eat burnt pasta.”

Both parents dove for the stove. Remy clicked the knob to turn off the heat while Emile yanked the pot off, moving it onto a hot pad.

“Thanks, Logan.”

As the boys set the table, Remy ran a hand through his hair, huffing a little. He’d avoided the conversation again, even though it hadn’t been his intention.

Tonight. He thought to himself, smiling as Emile moved around the table, scooping out portions. We talk tonight.

After everyone had eaten their fill and they’d cleaned up, it was time to head over to get seats for Roman’s show.

“But it starts at 7, Em.” Remy said as Emile drove them over to the school.

Emile shook his head, but anyone could see the small smile on his face. “It starts at 7, yes. But we need to go now so we can get decent seats.”

“Yeah, the best seats tend to be taken by 6:15, if my notes are any indication.” Papers ruffled before Logan spoke again. “Of course, Roman may have gotten the privilege of saving seats for family, but that would technically only apply to the Sanders.”

Turning around, Remy noticed the look on Logan’s face. He simply gave him a nod, the two of them breaking into grins.

It wasn’t surprising that Logan had figured it out. It wasn’t as though Remy had been trying to hide it.

Emile pulled into a parking spot, everyone heading to the front doors. They were joined in the lobby by the other Tasks, the kids all paying for their tickets and heading in to save seats while the adults talked amongst themselves.

“Tanya has been so excited for tonight. I’m so glad she got cast as Elphaba, it’s been her dream role for years.”

Remy laughed. “Yeah, that’s how Roman was last year. He was so excited to play Cinderella’s Prince.”

They talked for a little while longer, before Emile tugged on Remy’s arm. “Rem, the lights are flashing, we’ve gotta go!”

Emile and Remy gave the Tasks a wave goodbye before hustling to their seats. As soon as they’d taken their jackets off and gotten settled, the lights were dimmed completely.

The show went on without too many issues. At one point Roman’s mic hadn’t been turned on, but he managed to project enough that the hanging lights picked up his voice.

During Dancing Through Life, Roman absolutely killed it. The crowd cheered loudly as the music faded, and everyone could see the giant smile on Roman’s face before the lights dimmed.

As the lights came up at the end of the show, the entire audience was on their feet, whistling and clapping.

The Picanis and Sanders made their way to the lobby. Within just a few minutes, the cast came out, making their way to their respective families.

Roman rushed over, giving Patton a bear hug. He gestured for the other boys to join, giving them space as they obliged.

“What did you think??”

“You did amazing!” Patton gushed, jumping up and down in place. “Fiyero is such a good part for you!”

Giving Patton another hug, Roman turned to Logan. “Thanks for the help with the choreography. That little rhyme you made up helped me so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

“V? What did you think?”

Virgil glanced up from fiddling with his sleeves. “You were really good. I can tell that your range has gotten better. Not that it was bad or anything last year, but-”

Roman laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping the explanation. “I get you, no worries.”

“Roman! We’re taking a cast picture!”

“Gotta go, can’t make Elphaba mad.” The joke got a laugh out of the family, and a few of the surrounding crowd. “I’ll meet you guys at home later, we’ve got that cast party tonight.”

“Be home by 11, and stay safe!” Emile called after him as Roman disappeared into the crowd.

“Can we go?” Virgil’s voice was nearly a whisper. He had pulled his hood up and was tugging on the strings.

Emile and Remy exchanged guilty glances before quickly getting the boys back out to the car. Once they were on the road, Remy saw Virgil’s shoulders relax from the rear-view mirror.

“I’m sorry we didn’t leave sooner.”

The two locked eyes in the mirror, Virgil nodding. “It’s okay.”

“Hey, it’s okay to be anxious, remember?” Emile said, his tone gentle. “Do we need to change your medication? You made it through the adjustment period.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll give Dr. McCall a call tomorrow and we’ll get an appointment set up.”

Remy just barely heard Logan whisper, “I can come with if you want. I’ve been doing some research.”

The boys ran upstairs as soon as they got back home. Logan and Virgil were going to look up some of the medications that Logan had looked into, while Patton worked on a diorama.

Swallowing his nerves, Remy grabbed Emile’s hand. “Hey, Em? Can we talk? Good things, I swear.”

“Of course.”

Emile sat down on the couch, watching as Remy paced back and forth. “Do you need therapist Emile or boyfriend Emile?”

That cut the tension, letting Remy get a laugh out. “Boyfriend Emile. And, that’s….kind of what I wanted to talk about.”

“Rem.” Emile’s eyes were getting wide. “Are you proposing?”

“No! I mean, not right this second.” Remy let out a deep sigh. He pushed his hair back, hand bumping into his sunglasses. Taking them off, he played with them in his hands. “But...if I were to do so in the future?”

“Oh, honey, I’d love that!” Grabbing Remy’s face, Emile pulled him into a quick kiss.

Resisting the urge to continue, Remy pulled back ever so slightly. “There’s one more thing. It’s about the kids. We...well, we already pretty much co-parent. I’d like to adopt them.”

That made Emile give him a soft smile. “While I wholeheartedly agree, and I want to adopt your boys as well...we should wait.”

“What?”

“I’m worried what Virgil might think if we adopted them before we were married.” Emile started to explain, threading their fingers together. “He might be afraid that you’ll leave me and then he’d have to deal with two households.”

Leaning so that their foreheads touched, Remy asked, “He’d be afraid or you would be?”

“...maybe a bit of both.”

“Emile Thomas Picani.” Remy started, dropping to one knee. “This isn’t a proposal, but rather a pre-proposal. I love you more than anything on this earth, second to my sons only. If I asked for your hand in marriage, what would you-“

“Yes!” Emile cut him off, pressing their lips together once more, but with more urgency. “Yes, Remy, I will agree to marry you whenever you choose to propose.”

“You’re perfect.”

“Uno reverse.”

The two giggled, falling into each other’s arms and talking as they waited for Roman to get home.

[gaarasgirlfriend]

helplessly in love - kaminari x reader

in which kaminari finally gathers up the courage to confess to you

god, that smile. it really brightened up his whole day. kaminari found himself sometimes barely listening to you whenever you were excitedly talking about something to just stare at the smile that was painted on your pretty face. that smile of yours always managed to provide him with some temporary amnesia for whatever tribulations he might have faced earlier.

“kaminari! there you are! i’ve been dying to tell you about the new switch game i finally got…” your voice called out to him but he was too far in a stupor to be pulled back into reality.

he looked into your e/c eyes that shone so brightly as you recounted your new game once more to the blonde-haired boy. whenever you gave a small laugh, the crinkles next to pools of e/c appeared, and kaminari felt his heart skip a beat. subconsciously reaching his hand up to his chest in a pathetic hole to calm the organ down, kaminari noticed you faltering in your words as you peered curiously at him.

“kaminari are you okay?” your soft voice asked him. you reached over to place a hand on his shoulder, your eyes slightly furrowed in concern.

“i-i’m fine! continue talking!” he insisted, noticing the way his heartbeat quickened when you placed your hand on his shoulder.

the concern still had not left your eyes, and honestly? it made kaminari happy. knowing that you cared for him. maybe, just maybe, he had a chance with you. but after taking a glance at your beautiful face that seemed to be what he saw in dreams, he decided that that wasn’t possible. a girl like you could never like a guy like him… right?

“class is about to start, you should tell present mic-sensei if you don’t feel well. i don’t want you to get sick kaminari, i care for you!” you said in a carefree manner, not realizing the effect those words had on the lovestruck boy’s heart. he was really whipped for you.

as he watched you take your seat he walked back to his seat which was only a few seats diagonal to yours— giving him a good view of you. in a daze, he sat back down and placed his chin on his palm, thinking.

thinking about what? thinking about you, of course! what else was there to think about? kaminari has been playing with the idea of finally asking you out on a date for a few weeks now. he even talked about it to kirishima, bakugou, and sero!

‘do it! you’ll never know if she returns your feelings if you never try! despite how much you err… ogle at ladies, you’re a great guy kaminari! i’m sure she’ll at least give you a chance! be manly and ask her out’ his redheaded pal had told him.

‘tch, like i care. i have no clue why y/n would say yes to a dumbass like you!’ bakugou said with an eye roll.

‘you guys have been close friends for awhile right? there’s a chance that she likes you back! based from all the movies i’ve seen at least….’ sero sheepishly said while rubbing the back of his neck.

‘could they be right? could she actually like me back?’ his mind raced as he subconsciously glanced over to you. you were soaking up all the words present mic spoke as he continued his lesson. your pencil moved furiously as you focused intently on writing your notes. kaminari gave a small pout, he couldn’t even focus in class because of you! truth be told, he probably wouldn’t retain the information anyways but still! he would like the option of being able to focus on aizawa’s words rather than paying attention to the h/c strand of hair that fell against your cheek as you tilted your head while writing.

‘not fair…’ he thought as he sighed while picking up his pencil, finally writing down notes. he had no idea what to do about you, but he would deal with you another time. he had more pressing matters to attend to. finally tuning into present mic’s babbles, his eyebrows furrowed. what the hell was an adverb?

kaminari soon gave up on the lecture, opting instead to just doodle on his paper, giving you the occasional glance. god, he really was living the life of a teenage boy in a coming-of-age movie. how lame. after adding finishing touches to the house he drew, kaminari felt someone poke his back. kaminari knew better than to turn and talk to kirishima, so he dropped his hand to the bottom of his seat, palm facing up expectantly. once he felt the folded piece of paper in his hand, he slowly unfurled it under his desk. present mic was facing the chalkboard currently, so he was safe.

‘hey bro, are you finally gonna ask y/n out?’

kaminari gave a small sigh before writing down his response and handling the paper back to the boy behind him.

‘i think i might, it’s just so nerve-wracking.’

after hearing kirishima scribble on the paper once more, he felt the familiar tap on his back before he collected the paper.

‘mina told me some second year student was thinking of asking her out on a date! you better hurry bro!’

kaminari’s heart stopped while reading that. you? with another man? that was just too much for kaminari to handle. he had to confess to you before it was too late! before he lost you to some cool, probably super handsome, super funny upperclassman.

as class went on, kaminari worked on his confession, writing some stuff down for kirishima to look over. it honestly wasn’t going too well. kaminari has so much he wanted to tell you, yet he couldn’t. the poor boy’s nerves were skyrocketing so much that he could barely form a proper sentence. he groaned frustratedly as he grabbed his hair. he felt kirishima pat his back in reassurance. class was about to end, and it was almost time for the students to go home. kaminari walked you home almost everyday, not wanting anything bad happening to you.

as the last teacher finally dismissed class, the students all got up and started to pack up their stuff. kaminari was scrambling to finish his confession letter.

‘what about her hair you idiot? how it smells like coconuts? or it seems so soft? no, no, no! don’t talk about her hair, that makes you sound weird!’ he thought.

he heard you walk up to his desk as he rushed to finish his paper. if only he worked this hard on his notes in class, maybe he would actually learn.

“you ready to leave kaminari?” you asked with that pretty smile of yours.

“y-yeah, just give me a minute.” kaminari said before getting his book bag and packing up.

“you still look a bit off, do you want to go see recovery girl before we leave?”

“haha, no i’m fine!” he chuckled unconvincingly, finally slipping his book bag onto his back.

before you made it out the door, kaminari made it there before you, quickly scanning the hallway in search of this mysterious second year that also harbored feelings for you. his eyes fell on a figure that was a bit taller than him, a brunette boy who was also clad in the ua uniform. he radiated a cool vibe and was also not to mention model worthy.

“nope, not today.” kaminari muttered before taking your hand into his and pulling you out of the door, power walking your way out of the school.

“k-kaminari- slow down! why are we running away? are you okay? what’s wrong?” you asked when you finally made it outside, standing beside kaminari as the two of you caught your breaths.

kaminari didn’t answer, he just focused on his breathing as he worked up the courage to confess to you. kirishima and sero’s words echoed in the back of his mind, urging the boy to tell the girl beside him of his feelings.

“kaminari are-”

“i like you. i’ve liked you ever since we talked during lunch on our first day of school! i liked the way you almost choked on your food because you were laughing at one of my dumb jokes! i like the way that your eyes crinkle whenever you smile! i like the way you do that stupidly cute dance of yours whenever you get food! oh god- don’t even get me started on your smile. that beautiful smile of yours… i just- i’ve liked you for a long time! and i’m tired of keeping it in! i won't wait for someone else to sweep you off your feet and be upset because i did nothing about it! y/n l/n, i like you! accept my confession!”

after he finished his speech it went quiet. kaminari could literally hear his heart beat with every passing second. oh god, bakugou was right, there was no way a girl like you would like him. he’d better start looking at other schools to move to. shiketsu was pretty good, right?

“kaminari… you like me?” your voice called out to him, breaking him away from his thought. he flinched at the mention of him liking you before nodding.

“yeah…” he said, twiddling with his fingers a bit as he waited for you to reply once again.

he looked at your face to see your mouth slightly opened in shock, your glittery orbs wide in shock as well. if he weren’t so terrified of rejection right now he would’ve laughed at that adorable look on your face.

“i-i can't believe it! you like me back!”

‘huh? like you back?’

“h-huh? does that mean...?” he trailed off, hopeful.

“yes! kaminari denki, i like you too!” you said, your face breaking out in the biggest grin he’s ever seen.

kaminari froze for a bit, taking a few second to register the words that you had just said. you, the girl of his dreams, liked him back? was this some kind of prank? no, you were too nice to do anything like that to him. kaminari could almost cry, his heart was overflowing with joy and pure happiness.

“y-you mean it? you’re not messing with me?” kaminari said while smiling, holding her shoulders.

the girl laughed while shaking her head, “of course not! i’ve liked you for the longest time! ever since you offered to charge my phone because it was dead! i thought you were really cute and funny!”

oh gosh, you thought he was cute? that’s it. kaminari could die happy now.

“i’m so happy right now y/n, you have no idea. i’ve waited for this moment for so long… this feels like a dream.” kaminari said while looking into your eyes.

you smiled before linking your hands together, “trust me, i know exactly how you feel.”

kirishima grinned as he saw kaminari and you walk out of the schoolyard while holding hands.

“looks like your plan worked bakugou! that note really did push him to confess to y/n! who knew that you were rooting for him…”

“tch stupid, i only got tired of him always talking about how soft her hair looks or dumb shit like that, not because i care for him.” bakugou said while rolling his eyes.

but maybe, just maybe, he did care for his friend who was so helplessly in love with you.

[offtopicoverload]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

Poppy messed up. Poppy messed up even if she doesn’t know it yet. But Bea knows it. Bea knows that Poppy messed up really, really bad this time. And Bea’s going to make her pay for ever even thinking about messing with Zoey.

Or, what should have happened at the bacchanalia if MC wasn't so stupid and  Zoey was respected and yes im still salty

also didn’t edit as much as normal so there’s definitely issues in this one but whatever

Zoey x MC (Bea Hughes)

~5.5k words

Bea rifles through the false bottom of Poppy’s dresser, searching for her credit cards that can be used against her, finding all sorts of blackmail and dirt to levy against the obnoxious rich girl. Bea eventually spots them buried beneath papers and folders, a phone, hard drives, all kinds of things that no doubt hold enough dirt to destroy Poppy for good.

But Bea’s only here for the cards, she doesn’t have the time to sort through everything right now. She grabs them, her hand knocking against a manila folder as she does. ‘Human Sacrifice’ is written in red sharpie, a paper falling out of the side, with a name at the top.

Bea’s eyes go wide as she reads every letter over and over and over again, every drop of black ink. She rips her phone from her pocket, fumbling to swipe and tap to her contacts and presses call on ‘Zo 😘.’ It rings for a minute, each tone sending panic spiking through Bea.

“Hey, what’s up? How’s it going?” finally rings from the speaker pressed to Bea’s ear.

“Get the fuck out of there,” Bea doesn’t bother with greetings, skipping straight to the point, “Get the fuck out of there right fucking now, Zo, fucking run.”

“Why? What the hell’s going on, Bea?” Zoey sounds on edge, no doubt concerned by Bea’s words and tone. Good.

Bea pulls her phone from her ear, putting it on speaker and opening her camera, “I don’t know, but it’ll be bad, so please leave, Zo, I’m on my way,” she hurriedly snaps pictures of Poppy’s stupid cards to use against her later.

“Okay, I’m seriously freaking out right now, can you please tell me what’s happening before I book it?”

Bea jams the cards and folder back in the false bottom, shoving it closed and struggling to her feet, “You’re Poppy’s ‘Human Sacrifice’ and you seriously need to leave, I’m not fucking around. I have no idea what she has planned but it’ll be bad, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going, I swear. But are you coming with?”

Bea rushes out of the room, darting for the stairs, “I’m coming now, I’m almost at the stairs and I’ll -”

“Fuck.”

“Zoey?!” Bea shouts into the speaker, not receiving an answer as she sprints down the hallway, tripping to the ground as she rounds a corner, desperate to get there in time.

“Put your hands together for this year’s sacrifice, Zoey Wade!” Poppy’s voice rings through the foyer as Bea slams into the railing, just to find Poppy standing on a makeshift stage to address the crowd and a spotlight on Zoey by the door.

“Bitch!” she swears under her breath, stumbling for the stairs as Poppy continues.

“A little backstory on New Money here. Once upon a time, Zoey grew up in a three bedroom home in… Brooklyn.” Bea can feel the steam coming from her ears as she barrels down the staircase, gripping the railing to keep from falling in her stupidly high heels that she should have never bothered with.

“Three? Where did you keep your clothes? And where was your dog’s room?” Trixie joins, only further enraging Bea with her incompetence.

Zoey's voice rings through the foyer, drawing Bea’s eyes as she stands her ground, “We kept our clothes in the closets and our dog didn’t have his own room. You know, how normal people live.”

“Not these people. I’m sure none of these people’s fathers worked as a banker either,” Poppy taunts, a sadistic smirk on her face.

“Like handling other people’s money?” Luis sounds as if it’s the most insane thing in the world.

The crowd erupts in laughs and jeers just as Bea reaches the end of the obnoxiously long staircase, already shoving through the crowd, elbowing everyone in sight.

“No! He… He was a senior manager! What the hell is wrong with all of you?!” Bea can just barely see Zoey across the room as she dives into the crowd, spotting a line of frat guys blocking Zoey from the door.

“I’m sure it must have been rough for him, working so hard to support you,” Poppy looks at her in fake sympathy. “Though I guess those paychecks weren’t enough to cover everything. Like say… a tube of peach flavored lipgloss? Sparkly pink nail polish? Maybe a pair of cubic zirconia stud earrings?” Poppy asks, feigning innocence or kindness, Bea can’t tell and she doesn’t care anyway.

“Poppy… Don’t,” Bea can barely hear Zoey’s quiet response anymore, can barely see her through the gaps in the crowd, and she hates what she sees. Zoey’s eyes are shining with tears, every muscle in her body tense as she trembles, glued to the spot.

Poppy turns back to the crowd, not even bothering to address her victim anymore, “That’s right, everyone. There’s a thief in our midst. A shoplifter.”

Bea pushes forward even more, jabbing everyone within arm’s reach until Michael grabs her, arms around her waist as he yanks her backwards to prevent her from reaching Zoey. She struggles, squirming and kicking in his grasp, shrieking as his arms tighten around her.

“Bea?!” Zoey’s voice sounds terrifyingly hopeful as she scans the crowd for Bea trapped in Michael’s hold.

“Zo!” she shouts back, pushing her head above the crowd to meet her eyes, just as a projector launches photos behind Poppy on her stage, drawing the entire crowd’s attention.

It’s a younger Zoey in an office, with red eyes and tears still streaming down her cheeks, a mugshot of sorts. Bea squirms even more, elbowing Michael in the ribs, but he still won’t fucking let go.

“Someone lock up the imported silverware!” Chloe’s shriek echoes in the foyer, providing a soundtrack to Bea’s struggles.

She jams her heel into Michael’s thigh, earning a yelp from her captor and pushing up enough to see the heartbroken expression on Zoey’s face, “How did you… Those… Those records were sealed! I never even had to pay a fine!”

“Oh, I know, I know,” Poppy nods with that same ridiculous sympathy again, “You may not have had to pay the price, and how could you have? Considering you clearly didn’t have any money. But this burden will live on with you forever,” her tone quickly turns malicious as she zeroes in on Zoey, “I will never let you forget that this is who you are. That you, Zoey, are a sad, little social climber who had to wait for someone with balls to cling onto to even make it onto our radar. Well, you’ve finally done it. You’re on my radar. Are you happy now?”

“Shut the fuck up, Poppy!” Bea screeches, jamming her heel even further into Michael’s thigh to rise above the crowd and glare at Poppy, flames in her eyes as she attempts to light Poppy on fire.

“Oh, Farmsville. Stupid, naive, little Farmsville,” she gives a saccahrine smile, hauntingly sweet. “Let the sacrifice begin,” she announces into the mic, eyes still trained on a furious Bea.

Zoey screams as tomatoes and wine fly at her, soaking her skin, her hair, her outfit, all of it seemingly coming out of nowhere as the crowd pelts Zoey mercilessly. She ducks her head, covering herself with her arms and backing away, only for the frat boys to shove her back in the spotlight.

“Betcha didn’t see that one coming,” Poppy mouths to Bea, right as Michael finally lets her go, rubbing his thigh and grabbing a tomato from Luis, hurling it at Zoey with a laugh.

And Bea can’t take it anymore, can’t take how powerless he just made her feel, can’t take how disgusting they all are, how cruel and heartless. She can’t take this shit anymore, she can’t deal with it, she can’t stomach it, not when her best friend is being assaulted across the room without her help.

She slugs him in the jaw, sending him reeling and staring at her in shock, but she’s already moving back through the crowd as the tomatoes fly, nearly tripping over people as she hurries as quick as she can. Zoey’s so close to the front door, she almost made it, she was almost safe. If Bea was only a few seconds quicker she could have changed this, she could have fixed this.

Bea shoves through the crowd to reach Zoey, receiving a few elbows to her sides and irritated comments, but she doesn’t stop pushing. She finally sees Zoey through the crowd again, the frat boys guarding the door throwing tomatoes at her without remorse as she cowers, arms raised to protect her head.

She grabs Zoey as soon as she reaches her, arm coiling around her waist and pulling her into her side protectively. Her hands are raised to hide her face as she leans into Bea, a slight whimper escaping her throat as Bea holds her. She pulls Zoey along to the door, shoving through those ridiculous frat boys and stomping on a few feet to do it, tomatoes still pelting them as she yanks the door open. She drags Zoey along, the other girl stiff at her side, arms still raised as they put the sorority house behind them, Bea running until it’s too far in the distance to be a threat.

She slides to a stop on shadowed grass, their heels ruined as she turns to Zoey, still tucked into her side. Her face is blank save for a few tears in her eyes and a quivering bottom lip, her eyes glassy as she stares into space. Bea can feel her body trembling under her arm and concern spikes within her, “Zoey, babe, what can I do to help? What do you need? To go home? I think we went in the wrong direction to our dorm, but we can still go. Do you want to get something off Postmates? Do you want to go and attack Poppy? I got the pictures,” Bea rambles, trying to catch Zoey’s glazed over eyes.

But Zoey doesn’t utter a single word, simply wraps her arms around Bea’s neck and buries her face in her shoulder, a sniffle muffled against her skin. Bea holds her tight, fingers scratching at the small of her back and swaying softly from side to side. She starts humming through random song choruses and verses stuck in her head until she lands on Uptown Funk. It popped up in their playlist earlier, as they did their hair and makeup, and the bathroom exploded in an impromptu performance.

“This hit, that ice cold, Michelle Pfeiffer, that white gold. This one for them hood girls, them good girls, straight masterpieces.” She pulls back, Zoey following and glancing up at her from beneath her lashes, the smallest smile on her lips as she watches.

Bea pounces on it, smiling and dancing goofily, jumping around in her heels, “Stylin’, wilin’, livin’ it up in the city.” Zoey laughs softly, Bea’s hands falling to hers and swinging her arms as she moves from side to side, “Got Chucks on with Saint Laurent, gotta kiss myself I’m so pretty. Too hot! Hot damn,” she echoes, “Called a police and a fireman, I’m too hot! Hot damn,” she fans Zoey, who rolls her eyes with a smile.

“Make a dragon wanna retire man, I’m too hot! Hot damn! Say my name, you know who I am, I’m too hot! Hot damn! And my band ‘bout that money, break it down,” she crouches low, pulling Zoey with her, “Girls hit your hallelujah,” she chants low, looking to Zoey expectantly.

Zoey meets her gaze with pursed lips and raised eyebrows, Bea tilting her head as she waits and waits and waits and - “Whoo,” Zoey cheers, Bea’s smile exploding as she launches forward, tackling Zoey in a hug and sending them tumbling to the ground. “Bea!” Zoey exclaims, even though it’s followed by laughter.

“What?” she asks cluelessly, pulling back from the embrace enough to meet Zoey’s dark eyes as she feigns innocence.

Zoey rolls her eyes, “God, you’re such a dork.” But she’s smiling fondly, even with tomato chunks stuck in her hair and dripping from her body. Bea beams wide at her success in cheering her up, her eyes nearly shutting as she just stares at Zoey, who shoves her shoulder, “Dork.”

“Yeah, but you’re smiling,” she singsongs the last word, still grinning down at Zoey beneath her.

Only that smile falls away as soon as it’s mentioned, her head falling back to stare at the sky blankly. Bea wiggles closer, flopping onto her back beside Zoey and staring up at the few stars they can see, her hand slipping in Zoey’s and interlocking their fingers. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Zoey sighs, staring up at the night above them, her thumb brushing along Bea’s knuckles. “I only did it because the group of girls I hung out with in middle school did. They never once got caught, so I thought it’d be okay.”

Bea turns her head to watch Zoey’s shadowed features, “And of course the one time they convinced me to try it with them, I got picked out and searched. Me, the only black girl in the group,” she scowls to the sky. “They all abandoned me there, not even looking back as I got taken with security,” she pauses to glare upwards, and Bea squeezes her hand in the silence. “But after I got off with just a warning, they wanted to keep pretending we were the bestest of friends.”

“I hope you told them you didn’t have time for snakes,” Bea grins, hoping the joke’s enough to lighten the mood, to help Zoey feel better.

“I’ve been dealing with mean girls, girls like Poppy, my entire life,” Zoey looks angry, rightfully so, “I don’t know why I thought for a second Belvoire would be different.”

Bea turns back to the few glimpses of stars they can see in the city, “I know it’s not much, but I’m always here. I’ve got you no matter what, babe.”

“I know,” Zoey whispers to the sky, silence settling between them easily, a familiar presence from study dates and weekends spent collapsed on the couch. From early mornings to late nights when they’re too tired to speak more than a few words, to do anything but smile or squeeze the other’s hand or shoulder. From haunting hours in the middle of the night after awful days to sunrises that promised a second chance, a redemption of sorts.

Bea sits up straight, squeezing Zoey’s hand as she looks down to her, “You wanna go home now? Wash up and get some sleep?”

Zoey nods stiffly, sitting up beside Bea and dropping her head to her shoulder, “Can we order pizza? And breadsticks?”

“We can order the entire pizza place if you want, babe,” she raises their interwoven hands, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Zoey’s.

---

Bea stalks into the courtyard the next day, determination boiling inside her as her gaze locks on Poppy sitting with Chloe and Veronica, tapping away at her phone and drinking a smoothie. She makes a beeline for the witch, fists clenching and jaw tight as she approaches.

She woke up early for this, made calls for this, went to the store for this. She went out of her way for this, and she’s going to relish it, relish the start of her vengeance. She’s not just going to forget what happened last night, she’s not going to move on or accept the revenge from posting trash about Poppy on The T after Zoey had fallen asleep.

She needs more, and she needs to make her suffer, to feel gross and less than, to feel loathed and despised. And Bea knows she can do it, that this is just the start.

She slams her palms on the table, startling Chloe, provoking Veronica to whip out her phone and start recording, and not even earning Poppy’s signature glare, “What do you want, Farmsville? I thought you’d have slunk off to your corn field by now.”

Bea doesn’t even say anything, just grabs Poppy’s smoothie, pulls off the lid and dumps it on her head with a neutral, unbothered expression. The only indication of her rage is the fire still in her eyes from the night before. Poppy cringes under the waterfall, her mouth falling open and arms raising to protect herself, “You are dead, Farmsville!” she screams as the liquid stops falling.

She stands, hovering above Bea in her ridiculously high heels and ruined pompous sweater and skirt. But Bea doesn’t back down, she meets her gaze, she squares her shoulder. She’s from the country, she could take this city bitch no problem.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Poppy spits through gritted teeth, her lips pulled back in a snarl as she glowers at Bea below her. “I will ruin you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Bea spits right back.

Poppy smirks, self-satisfied and disgusting, “I already destroyed your little pet. How come she’s not following you around? Still too mortified to leave your nasty little dorm? Or did she finally realise she’s not cut out for this life? That she belongs in Brooklyn?”

Bea explodes, shoving Poppy backwards and nearly pushing her to the ground, her heels stumbling beneath her and ankles almost collapsing, “Zoey’s off limits!” she shouts, face flushed in her fury. “This was between you and me, not a single other person!”

“Then how come you constantly messed with the Zetas? And Carter?” Poppy counters, regaining her balance and matching Bea’s anger.

“That was different and you know! I didn’t humiliate or harass them, I didn’t fuck with them, I offered them an alternative to her Royal Bitchiness!” Bea gestures at a smoothie-soaked Poppy.

“I don’t see a difference. Besides,” Poppy shrugs, feigning indifference, “Why do you care?” she flicks her hair over her shoulder, “I thought she was just a tool. She’s not even top 15, she doesn’t matter.”

Bea steps right into Poppy’s face, fury flowing off her in waves, “I will ruin you. I will wreck your stupid little reputation, I will crush your pointless popularity, I will make sure that you are nothing but an average, basic, heartless bitch. I’m going to take your crown and give it to someone who deserves it, someone who isn’t mean and cruel and evil. I’m going to make you nothing, Poppy.”

“Yeah? And who’s taking my spot?” Poppy taunts, “You? Midwest trash will never touch first place,” she scoffs.

“No, not me. I’ve sunk to your level and I don’t even care. I’ll make sure someone better than the both of us takes that stupid spot.” She takes a step back, putting some much needed distance between them to prevent herself from punching another person within twenty-four hours. “But until then, I’d watch your back, Pops,” she turns on her heel, striding away. “Go ahead, boys!” she calls without looking back.

A shriek sounds from behind her as Carter and a few of the football and frat guys that most certainly do not include Michael, dump a tub of crushed and mashed tomatoes on top of Poppy, juice soaking her clothes and chunks mixing in with her strawberry blonde locks. “Farmsville!” she shrieks, Bea smirking as she walks to her dorm, not once sparing a glance over her shoulder.

---

Bea sits on her bed, grading papers for Kingsley as Cutiepie lays flopped on his back beside her, his little legs sprawled in the air and his tongue lolling from his mouth, Bea occasionally breaking to scratch his exposed underside. She tosses a paper to the side, pulling up another as her door flies open, slamming into the wall.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Zoey asks, striding into the room and waving her phone crazedly.

Bea glances up, pen pausing above the paper, “I’m… sorry?” her brows knit together.

Zoey huffs, “You dumped a smoothie and tomatoes on Poppy?! In the middle of the courtyard?!”

Bea caps her pen and drops it to the bedspread, smiling as she leans back and props herself up on her hands, “Yep!”

Her amusement isn’t shared, Zoey glaring at her angrily, “Why the hell did you do that?! Are you trying to start a war?!”

“I’m trying to finish one,” her smile’s fallen away as she meets Zoey’s dark, furious eyes.

“Why?! She’s just going to retaliate!”

“Good.”

Zoey gestures wildly, as if she’s the only sane person left in the world, “Why is that good?! What is going on with you?!”

Bea leans forward, her elbows landing on her knees as she meets Zoey’s eyes, her expression stone and tone serious, “She fucked with you. She crossed a line and she’s going to pay. Every time she escalates things, I can, too.”

Zoey’s features soften and her eyes fall shut, a sigh slipping past her lips. She walks to the bed, flopping face first onto the comforter, frozen as Bea sets her papers aside and scoots closer. She pokes Zoey’s shoulder, moving up to poke the side of her face when she doesn’t move, “Zo?” she asks softly.

“You’re really stupid, you know?” she finally says.

“Probably,” Bea concedes, “But why exactly this time?”

Zoey exhales sharply, rolling over to her back and meeting Bea’s eyes, “She’s ruthless. She doesn’t care about you and she’ll do whatever she can. It’s a miracle you’re still here.”

“Then I’m going to take advantage of it,” Bea answers coolly, confidently.

Zoey’s eyes fall shut again and she takes a deep breath before wiggling further onto the bed beside Bea, her arm open for her. And she obliges, falling to her side and dropping her head onto Zoey’s shoulder as an arm tightens around her shoulders, “I know there’s no stopping you, but you’re not allowed to get kicked from school. I’m not putting up with a shitty roommate because you got expelled or quit or something.”

“Okay,” Bea nods.

Zoey continues, “Do you promise you won’t do anything that might impact your stay at Belvoire?”

“Is this a contract? Do I need to get a lawyer?” Bea jokes, smiling against Zoey’s shoulder.

“Bea.” Her voice is stern, “Do you promise or not?”

She raises her head to meet Zoey’s gaze, the jokes falling away she pushes as much earnesty into her eyes as possible, “I promise, Zo. I’m not going anywhere.”

Zoey releases a sigh of relief, “Good,” just as Cutiepie crawls onto her side, flopping on her stomach and the tiniest amused smile quirking her lips. Bea reaches down to scratch his head, picking him up under his arms and pulling him into her grasp. She settles back against Zoey, setting Cutiepie on her chest and scratching behind his ears. He turns, licking at Zoey’s chin as she laughs softly, “Little weirdo.”

“Yeah, but you love him,” Bea grins.

Zoey pauses for a beat, glancing at Bea below her, eyes on Cutiepie, “Yeah, I do.”

---

Papers and plans surround Bea and Zoey on the floor of Bea’s bedroom, the former plotting her next move against Poppy as the latter scrolls her phone, her head on Bea’s shoulder as she works. Bea sorts through her papers, scribbling notes as she scans the pages.

Zoey glances up at her, finding her brow furrowed as she taps her pen on a page, focusing intently. Zoey sighs, sitting up and cupping Bea’s cheek to draw her gaze. She doesn’t give it, fighting to keep her eyes on the mess before her, “Zo, I’m working.”

Zoey’s palm pushes Bea’s face even farther from her paper, and she gives in with a sigh, irritatedly meeting Zoey’s gaze. There’s a crease between her brows and a frown on her lips that makes Zoey smile. Bea rolls her eyes at the quirk in her lips, “What, Zoey?”

She raises her other hand, cupping both sides of Bea’s face and uses her thumbs to lift the corners of her lips, “Turn that frown upside down,” she murmurs softly with a grin.

Bea’s jaw falls open as she stares at Zoey, whose gaze is trained on her lips, fingers still brushing the corners. She swallows thickly, “I, uh, that’s why you interrupted me?” she chokes out through a throat that seems impossibly dry.

Dark eyes finally meet her own, “Yep,” she beams. “But now that I have your attention,” she drawls. Her hands spring from Bea’s face, grabbing her hands as she jumps up, “Movie night!” She drags Bea along before she’s even on her feet, pulling her out of the bedroom and into the common area. She sets her on the couch, pushing down on her shoulders to get her to sit.

“Zo, I need to finish -”

“Nope!” Zoey cuts her off, looking at her sternly, “Movie. Night.” She turns, grabbing the remote and pulling her phone from her pocket. She passes the remote to Bea, giving her a sharp look when she attempts to decline, and pulls up Postmates on her phone.

They spend the night on the couch, ignoring the problem of Poppy, ignoring the plans Bea’s been working on, ignoring their homework and all the assignments Kingsley needs graded. They ignore everything outside of the dorm for the night, gorging on Chinese takeout and watching bad movies that make them laugh until they cry.

---

Bea and Zoey sit at a picnic table on the courtyard, eating burritos and scrolling their phones, occasionally showing each other funny videos and posts. It’s a calm day in the courtyard for once, no events or billboards of hog calling.

Well, it was a calm day, but Poppy’s intent on ruining that. She storms across the courtyard with Chloe hot on her heels, eyes trained on the back of Bea’s head as she sips an iced coffee, laughing at a dog video Zoey just sent her. “Farmsville!” she screams across the space.

Bea glances over her shoulder, shrugging as she spots the fury on Poppy’s face, and turns back to her lunch, still tapping away at her phone. Poppy muffles a scream, striding directly to Bea, “Farmsville!” This time she doesn’t even get a glance.

She stops at the table, grabs Bea’s burrito, and throws it as far as she can, leering down at her. Bea stands meeting her gaze, “What, Poppy?”

“You leaked my credit cards?!” she hisses, snarling like a wild animal.

Bea grins, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bull. I know it was you.”

“Do you now?” Bea asks calmly, reaching for her coffee and taking a long sip, meeting Poppy’s gaze coolly as she does.

“This part of your little vengeance plan for New Money?” she leers at Zoey, still sitting at the table and eating quietly. “Why do you even care about her, Farmsville? I get that she’s a little useful, but she’s still replaceable, just like anyone else,” she scoffs.

Bea slams her drink on the table, startling Poppy briefly as rage immediately takes over features, “Is that what you think Poppy?! That no one but you matters?! You think you’re so important and above everyone else even though you don’t do shit!”

Zoey’s abandoned her lunch now, crossing over to the opposite side and hovering warily behind Bea, close enough to intervene if necessary but far enough to let Bea handle it. It’s part of her plan, after all.

Poppy scans the pair of women before her as if she’s unimpressed, “No need to get so worked up, Farmsville. This never would have happened if you hadn’t picked her. Just find someone that’s not a criminal,” she shrugs.

Bea flies forward in the blink of an eye, tackling Poppy to the ground and towering over her, Zoey shouting behind them in shock, “Bea!”

Before she can do anything, Bea punches Poppy right in the jaw, sending her head flying. She punches once, twice, and is rearing up for a third hit when Zoey’s arms slip around her torso and jerk her backwards, pulling her back as she squirms and fights in her grasp, “Let me go, Zo! Let me fucking go!”

“You’re gonna get expelled!”

“I don’t care!”

Zoey’s lips drop to her ear, “You promised me.”

Bea immediately goes limp in her arms, all the fight knocked out of her in a fraction of a second. “Thank you,” Zoey whispers again, Bea’s feet slipping beneath her body to hold her up.

“You fucking animal!” Poppy shrieks, still sitting on the ground as Chloe pokes at her jaw, only pissing her off even more.

“At least I can admit it!” The fight’s back as she stands properly, slipping out of Zoey’s grasp, even as the other woman attempts to keep her back. “At least I can admit that this is all ridiculous! At least I can admit that it’s pointless and stupid! Can you admit it, Poppy? Can you admit that your precious crown has no worth? That you have no worth?” She stands over the strawberry blonde, staring down at her intently.

“Fuck off, Farmsville,” she scoffs, stumbling to her feet by gripping Chloe’s shoulder and shoving the blonde to the ground. “Run back to your cave with your little felon friend. At some point you’ll realize just how little she matters,” Poppy spits.

Bea meets her gaze easily, jaw clenched tight, “She matters more than you. She matters more than me. She matters more than anybody, and at some point you’ll realize that, when she’s more successful than you, more popular, more wealthy, more respected. You’re a vile creature, and somebody you’ll lose your power and sit sulking as everyone stops caring about you. Because you. Don’t. Matter.”

“Bea, that’s enough,” Zoey slips an arm around her, carefully leading her away, their lunches abandoned. And this time Bea doesn’t resist, doesn’t fight back, doesn’t try to squirm away to fight with Poppy more.

She lets Zoey lead her back to their dorm, sit her at the kitchen counter, and make her a cup of tea. She lets Zoey turn on 90s music as she dances around the kitchen, trying to lighten the mood and resolve some of Bea’s anger. She lets her wrap her in a hug when the music and dancing doesn’t work, let’s her tell her to let it go and move on, to forget about Poppy and all her bullshit.

“I can’t just forget it, Zoey, I can’t let her get away with everything she’s done,” she meets dark eyes, her own shining as she silently pleads for Zoey to understand, to give her permission to carry on this path that will only lead to destruction.

Zoey sighs, her head dipping as she thinks. She looks back up after a minute, meeting Bea’s gaze, “If we’re doing this, we’re being smart about it.”

“I’m doing it, Zo. You’re staying out of this,” her brows knit together, her face serious as her eyes pour into Zoey’s.

“Nuh-uh,” Zoey shakes her head. “You just attacked Poppy. You need me to keep you in check, babe, hate to break it to you,” she smiles teasingly.

“She already -”

Zoey cuts her off, “I don’t care. You promised me you’d stay safe, and clearly you can’t do that on your own, so suck it up and get over it, Bea.” Her words are sharper than she meant them to be, harsher as she stares down the woman across from her.

Bea sighs, her head falling to the counter beneath her arms. “Fine,” comes out muffled against the countertop. “But if she ever throws another tomato at you, I’m killing her on the spot.”

Zoey laughs, “Alright, deal. Luckily, I don’t think tomatoes are her choice weapon,” she grins down at Bea’s hunched form, relief spilling over her at Bea’s acceptance of her plan.

A hand slips in her own, Bea squeezing tight as she weaves their fingers together, “They better not.” Zoey squeezes back, lifting their locked hands to kiss the back of Bea’s, her thumb tracing her knuckles gently.

They miss the rest of their classes that afternoon, Bea plotting intently as Zoey reels her in on the crazier ideas. They order more burritos and watch the chaos of Bea posting Poppy’s cards on The T, all the purchases people made, all the people complaining that the cards were declined, and all of Poppy’s messages urging people to stop and telling them off when they don’t.

It’s amusing, Zoey has to admit, watching Poppy suffer and face backlash, to be the one under the criticism of the Belvoire public, be the one struggling and hurting. It’s nice, to get revenge and not even have to feel an ounce of guilt.

And it’s nice that Bea’s the one that got it for her, the one that decked Poppy in front of dozens of students because she talked trash on Zoey, the one that took tomatoes to the head to help Zoey.

Maybe it’s just Bea that’s nice, Zoey decides as she watches Bea break from her work to grin at Zoey, butterflies whirring in her stomach as she meets that smile, a tornado of fluttering wings whirling in her gut, a sickening but thrilling sensation filling every ounce of her body, an overwhelming but welcome presence. Yeah. That’s it; it’s just Bea that’s nice.

[terrible-my-hero-academia-aus]

An AU Where...

Present Mic goes bald one day due to a quirk related accident. He had just rescued the small child from their blade-armed kidnapper when, with a terrified shriek, the child sneezed from the stress. 

Of course, living in a society of quirks, she couldn’t simply sneeze snot and germs like any other child. She had to sneeze her quirk. Hence the bald, shiny head he now sported.

On his way to buy a wig; disguised with hot pink sunglasses and a hoodie. He bumps into a runaway teen, who, in their panic stumbled and fell.

Reaching down to help pull the teen back to their feet. Present Mic stopped in shock. Over an otherwise pale face, spread deep purple scars.

“Shit, you ok kid?”

“What do you think” He snarled, yanking his arm from the heroes grip in a valiant attempt to scram. 

“Hey-hey, wait a sec kid,” 

And so~ Present Mic became the father of a smol dirty child.

Personal headcanons:

He drags the grimy kid home for a nice hot bath and stuffs a couple of cup noodles into his mouth. Oh, what’s this? Mic can cook you say?? No. I refuse.

Touya’s hair is floofy.

Mic gives him an All Might towel to dry it and Touya loves it.

Touya doesn’t realise his saviour is a Pro Hero at first because Present Mic is still bald from that kid’s quirk.

 Mic knows how to deal with his new kid, because, if he can handle the grumpy cat which is Eraserhead, he can handle this smol kitten.

Convinces Touya to stay for at least a little while he, “gets on his feet”-cough-adopted.

“Hey kid.”

“What?”

“You wanna come to work with me today?”

“What’ya do” *snaps chewing gum*

“Gossip hour on xxxRadio. Doing a whole segment on under vs overrated heroes.”

“...Y’know what? Yeah...I’ll come.”

A few hours later~

“So signing off now! This has been HeroDebate with your hosts: Present Mic and our guest for today, Dabi!”

...

“Wait what?”

“shh my smol son. I know. It’s the hair, isn’t it?”

“What.”

“It’s usually a lot longer, I swear! It’s not photoshopped! Do you know how much a week I spend on hair gel!

“WHAT”

........................................

*After a long and emotional conversation in which Touya spills the beans*

Mic takes Touya to UA to get paperwork quietly pushed through. Even through his faith in heroes is not completely lost, too many years and memories are based in the hero worlds failing, for him to continue there. With the help of Nezu, he takes classes as a business student at Shiketsu with, Y’know, the odd lesson from Nezu himself.

Nezu pulls some strings to get Touya to test a hormone cream in an attempt to make himself resistant enough that his flames wont further injure him. After many long trails and false positives it works, ans Touya is able, with the help of several support items, use his quirk without  burning himself.

By the time our famous class 1-A comes into the picture Touya has graduated into being Nezu’s “Secretary” at UA.  (And Present Mic’s Official SonTM)

Yes. He sits outside Nezu office and manages his meetings and emails. He's also Nezu’s direct link to bringing down his enemies via public reputation but who cares he makes a mean scone.

*Aizawa, going to meet Nezu after the entrance exams and spotting Touya’s ID* “Oh shit there’s two of them.”

Mic’s hair does finally grow back.

Somehow, none 1-A, even after occasions when they were sent to see Nezu, none of them picked up that the Hot Secretary is Todoroki’s brother. 

Touya hiding behind people to avoid being seen Endeavor when he come to see Shouto.

Shouto being sure that Someone is stalking him. 

Touya sent to give Aizawa some papers during class and walks in right when someone asks Todoroki has any siblings.

“Yes, I have a sister an one-” 

*Touya walks in*

“-two brothers...Where the have you been?”

“At work”

“Yes, but before today.”

“School.”

“I mean before that.”

“The womb.”

“Not that far back.”

“Doin’ stuff, don’t worry, i’ll be a bit late for dinner though.”

“...it’s been 84 years...”

“ Shaddup I’m not going grey yet.”

[prismatica-the-strange]

Au Zombie apocalypse (but more like the movie Fido

While I did watch the film (and absolutely loved it!), I didn't really know how to write it as an AU, so I went more for a 7 Days to die meets Tyler Posey's Alone.

Word count: 2014

Warnings: Blood, violence, swearing

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"Jackpot!"

"What'cha got?" Cam comes up behind her to look into the cabinet.

"Enough to last us a while," Bunny grins, shrugging off her backpack and shoving cans from the shelves into it.

"Dread found a buttload of nonperishables," he says into the radio on his shoulder, "What about you gu-"

He's cut off by the sound of gunshots from two floors up where Daniel and Vala are going through apartments.

Bunny freezes, hand gripping the worn, bloodstained handle of the fire ax on the counter next to her. Everything goes quiet.

They wait for what feels like forever with bated breath until Daniel's heavy breathing crackles through the radio, "We had a group of infected, but we took care of it... Keep an eye out, those shots could have attracted more."

Before she can even let out a breath of relief Bunny sees a figure shambling up behind Mitchell.

"Behind you!"

She manages to pull out her sidearm as the zombie tackles him. She fires a few times and prays she was quick enough to kill it before it bit him.

The infected goes limp and she nudges it with her toe before pushing it off him.

There's a lot of blood, she wipes away as much as she can but she doesn't see a bite mark, just the gash on his forehead.

"Mitchell's unconscious," she says into her radio, "Zombie took him down and he hit his head, I don't see a bite."

"Keep your distance, just in case," Daniel answers, "We'll be right down Bunny."

"Hey! It's just me!" Daniel says when she points the Glock at him.

"Announce yourself next time dumbass!" She snaps, pointing her gun to the floor. "There's infected around, I could've killed you!"

He glances up at her when he kneels next to Mitchell, checking him for bites or deep scratches. "We'll bring him back, but he'll need to be watched closely, are you okay?"

"'M fine, let's get him back to base." She assures him with a small smile.

"Guys!" Vala skids to a stop in the doorway, "We've got an entire pack of runners headed right for us, if we're leaving, we need to go now."

"Help me with him," he looks to Bunny and she slings one of Cam's arms over her shoulders, helping Daniel get him to his feet.

Vala takes point as they drag him down the, now darkening, hallways of the apartment building. The group makes it to the truck without incident, Vala climbing into the bed with Cam and the supplies they managed to raid.

The compound was a small, red-brick school that they had reinforced. Two floors, lots of rooms, a flat roof that was good for patrolling on, and a chain-link fence surrounding it that they had wrapped and topped with barbed and razor wire.

"This is Raid Team One to Base, come in Base," Bunny says into the radio hooked to the dash. "I Repeat, This is Raid Team One, we're coming in hot, ETA 8 minutes. Base, do you copy?"

She gets back nothing but static and she looks to Daniel in the driver's seat.

"We have a man down and sprinters on our ass. ETA 5 minutes. Base, please respond." Nothing, "Damnit Walter! You'd better have that gate open when we get there or I swear to fuck, I'm gonna kick your ass!"

... "This is Base to Raid Team One, what is your current Eta?"

"Fuckin' finally!" She holds the mic up to her face again, "One minute Walter! Get that gate open NOW!... And tell the doc to be ready for a bleeder."

"What in the hell happened?" Sam asks as they unload Cam from the back.

"One of those new silents," Bunny grimaces, wiping her sleeve at the speckles of dried blood from her cheek, "Fucker got the drop on us."

"Hey!" She stops the group just inside the gate, the sound of gunfire echoing from O'Neill and Teal'c in the watchtowers as sprinters hurl themselves at the fence, "You know the rules, I can't let you in until you get a bite check."

"Damnit, Sam! Mitchell's dying!" Daniel snaps, "We don't have time for this!"

"I won't be the reason we have another outbreak!" She argues, pulling her pistol from its holster.

"Both of you calm down!" Fraiser interjects, rushing in with a gurney, "Sam, put your gun away, and Daniel..."

She looks at him pointedly, "Roll up your sleeves. Rules are rules, no exceptions, not even you."

He does as she says as she scours Cam for bites, Bunny and Vala also rolling their sleeves and pant legs up for Sam to inspect.

After getting checked out, Bunny brings the raided food to the kitchens, Daniel trailing closely behind her.

Once they make it to their quarters, an old English classroom, he pulls her into his arms.

"You're sure you're okay?" He asks, looking her over again.

"I'm fine," she assures him, "A little irked that we had to leave before we finished looting, but physically, I'm okay."

"Good," he sighs, pressing his lips to her forehead.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"We should take the mountain." She says, fingers drumming against the table in the war room.

"Not this again," O'Neill sighed, running his hand over his face, "That place is swarming with infected."

"But it's also loaded to the teeth with Ammo, MREs, and medical supplies." She argues, "Enough to last at least a few years. Jack, we've nearly picked the rest of the town clean, there's not much else to raid, what do we do then?"

"And or med supply is running dangerously low," Fraiser cuts in, "The stock in that mountain could save a lot of lives."

O'Neill huffs and slouches against the wall next to the window, looking out in the direction of Cheyenne Mountain.

"We need to take inventory of our current ammo supply before we make any hard decisions," He says, "If you can get the floor plans from the town office and draw me up a workable plan for this, we might- and I stress the word might- be able to get this thing off the ground."

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"So you finally got O'Neill to agree?" Cam groans from the bed in the makeshift infirmary, "How the Hell did you manage that?"

"Persistence."

"You annoyed him into it," he clarifies.

"Something like that," Bunny laughs, "Daniel and V are prepping the truck to raid the town office to hopefully get the floor plan."

"Document snatching, I don't envy you there."

"Yeah... So how are you doing? Feeling hungry for human flesh?" She jokes, "Craving my sweet sweet bone marrow?"

"Nah, the doc checked me out, I am 'infection free' as the kids call it."

"That's good, I hope to see you up on your feet soon, I don't like being down a man." She pats his arm and makes her way to where the rest of the team is getting ready to head out.

"How's he doin'?" Daniel asks, lifting the weapons duffle into the bed of the truck.

"Cam is Cam," she shrugs, "Bit of a concussion but otherwise still the same, we lucked out."

"Yes, those new Silents are beginning to be quite the problem," Vala says, climbing into the back of the truck.

"We'll figure it out," Daniel nods, "We learned to manage the sprinters, we'll get a read on these ones too."

"You guys ready to go?" O'Neill asks, walking up with Teal'c, his hands in his pockets.

"Just about," Daniel says, "What's goin' on?"

"With this new variant out there, I know I'd feel a lot better if you took Teal'c with you." He tells them, "So you're taking Teal'c with you."

"Hop in," Bunny motions to the truck, and Teal'c nods before stepping into the bed and shutting the tailgate.

The town office is mostly empty, with only a few zombies stumbling around, easily incapacitated with melee weapons.

"Where do you think they'd keep the floorplans?" Bunny asks, scraping the blood off her ax on the side of a desk.

"Archives are in the basement if they had them at all," Daniel explains, "Uh... Teal'c and Vala, you guys take guard up here, Bunny and I 'll check out downstairs."

Their lights shine around the dusty folder-covered shelves as they try not to kick up any papers that litter the ground as they go.

"It's too fucking quiet," Bunny hisses, eyes darting over to Daniel, her knuckles white as she grips her flashlight, "Daniel."

He turns to look at her, but her eyes and light are trained on a spot on the floor. He follows her line of sight to a bloody bootprint on the cement floor, "That's not ours."

"It's still wet," she grimaces and he shines his light around their immediate surroundings.

"They're still here," his eyebrows knit together, "We should go."

"We need those plans."

"We don't even know if the plans are here," Daniel argues, "Even if they are, is it really worth risking our lives to a band of Rovers?"

"We risk our lives every time we leave the compound," she frowns, stepping past him to continue her search.

"Is someone there?" She calls out and Daniel rolls his eyes, grabbing his radio.

"Teal'c? This is Daniel, we think we could have a Rover situation here, keep your eyes peeled."

"Understood."

The sound of shuffling papers alerts them to another presence a few shelves over. Daniel pulls his gun, pointing it in the direction of the sound, pulling Bunny behind him without a second thought.

"Come out," Daniel orders, "Calmly with your hands behind your head. We're armed."

A small figure slowly shuffles into the light, hands clutched tightly around a raggedy-looking stuffed moose.

"Jesus Daniel, it's a kid," She tries to move past him, but he stops her.

"Are you alone?" He asks, "Is there anyone else here with you?"

Their eyes start to glisten with tears and they start sniffling.

"M-my papa he-" They hiccup, "He told me to hide. B-but he hasn't come back!"

"Honey, how long ago was that?" Bunny asks them.

"F-four days ago."

"Oh geez," Daniel slowly lowers his gun and looks to his wife who carefully approaches the child.

"Did your dad tell you anything else before he left?" She asks softly, unscrewing the cover of her water bottle and handing it to them.

"S-something 'bout getting bit," they pout, taking a sip.

She turns to Daniel.

"He can't be more than five," she whispers, "Daniel we can't just leave him here."

"I know."

"What's your name, sweetheart?" She asks as Daniel radios the new information to Teal'c and Vala.

"H-Henry."

"It's nice to meet you, Henry," she smiles warmly, "You're gonna come with us, ok? We've got food, water, and a nice safe place to stay."

"But... but my Papa!"

"Honey, I'm sorry but I don't think your papa's coming back," she tells him, "Now you need to come with us to where it's safe."

"Ok."

"I need to make sure you weren't bit too, can you roll up your sleeves for me?"

He nods and does as she says.

Once she's sure he hasn't been infected she picks him up and he clings to her.

"We just need to find something before we go."

"I think I've got it," Daniel calls from the other side of the basement, after a good 40 minutes of searching through musty old files.

He meets Bunny near the stair and unfolds one of the blue documents. Shining his light through it he smiles when they see the layout of one of the complex's floors.

"Hell yeah!" She grabs his arm, and grins, "Let's get these back to base."

"It's okay," she reassures the young boy when he whimpers, holding her tighter when she goes to set him in the front seat of the truck, "I'll be sitting right next to you."

"Base this is Raid Team one," she says into the dashboard radio, "The mission was a success. We found a new survivor and we're headed back. ETA 15 minutes."

○●○●○●○

There will be a part 2 (or even more) because I really love this AU and want to write more for it

Taglist: @mysg1spacemonkey @sgcprometheus @i-am-morrigans-apprentice @malcolm-reeds-pineapple @witching-things @reeseykins @abnormalvampire64 @girl-obsessed-with-things @gatez @myro-tse @just-a-si-fi-nerd